Page 44 of Harmonic Pleasure


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“Bidders at auctions can make choices, well-educated ones, based on who is bidding. The Carillons will bid up on high-quality incunabula. The Mortons on silver boxes with enchantments, anything that might be suitable as a gift for someone they know. The Devon Howards bid up to a certain point on porcelain ware in sets. If they are in the room for such auctions, people will bid accordingly. Some sellers might have a false bidder in the room to push the bids higher. If, instead, it’s someone bidding for them, that evaluation is much harder. The banks all offer it as a service. If you see one of the Scali, you don’t know who they’re bidding for or how high they might go.” Then he waited a perfect beat and added, “Of course, if you know the players and the art, you can make better judgements on this point. But it takes a lot more observation.”

“Huh.” Aunt Ancha nodded. “So if he were here buying for a client in America, you’d expect him to be at the auctions. But possibly working through someone hired to make the bids according to instructions. Someone better known to the auction house.”

“Just so. There are a number of checks and balances. No one wants a sale to go to someone whose agreement turns out to be made of false coin. Coins that turn to crumbling leaves.” It was a gesture at some of the old folklore about Fatae gifts.

Aunt Ancha snorted now, and she was relaxing. That was excellent. “I see your point, Farran. And you don’t have a way to find out who he’s working with.”

“No, ma’am. The banks keep confidentiality, barring the proper sort of request from the Courts or Guard.”

“People are allowed to bid on art. Even excessive amounts,” Vivian said, dryly. “Is there any way to find a list of the actual buyers for recent auctions?”

Farran nodded. “There is, and I brought the lists, but they’re not terribly helpful. Obviously, there are a limited number of late Roman or Anglo-Saxon items auctioned at any given time, just due to their general scarcity.” He reached into his satchel, pulling out a set of notes clipped at the corners. “The top sheet summarises items from the period, as well as any where they might plausibly have been meteoric iron.”

Vivian took them, scanning them. “How long did this take for you to put together?”

“About three hours over the last two days. And I owe two people a dinner out.” Farran replied. “About half of it is chargeable to the current work, though.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow, and Farran shrugged, though Vega was almost certain he was deliberately not making much of it. “Can you explain, Vivian, please?”

“This is an exceedingly tidy bit of work, tedious to put together. Though I will grant, Farran, that at the moment you have excellent access to the relevant lists. Along with a demonstrated knack for cheerfully chatting to clerks.”

“I learn from the best, Vivian,” Farran replied, though he was definitely smiling now. Vivian seemed amused, which was all to the good.

“What does that mean about what we do?” Vega asked. Vivian handed her the list summary, and Vega peered at it. There were perhaps twenty different names, stretching over the past few months. Four were starred, with a note that those were not people known to be interested in the period.

“It gives us a possible angle on a business contact or two,” Vivian said. “I have someone seeing if she can arrange a casualmeeting in the hotel.” She added to Aunt Ancha, “Gratis, in this case, given other interests.”

“Huh.” Aunt Ancha nodded once. “All right. Can we be of any help? Certainly looking at patterns, constellations, is something we have skill in.”

“Oh, since you’re offering.” Vivian stood, crossing to her desk and bringing back a portfolio, held closed around a stack of paper. “These are pieces that might or might not be related, a complete copy of the working files, with some attached notes. Eleanor can lend a hand if you can’t make sense of something, by journal. I’ve told her to keep an eye out to give anything related priority.”

“You’re taking it seriously, then.” Aunt Ancha leaned forward, taking the hefty set of paper.

“I don’t like the feel of it any more than you do. You said he made you feel uncomfortable, Vega. Have you been able to give any better label to it? I ask because there are two plausible directions for his background, and the precautions would be different.”

“I’ve heard descriptions of people,oh, on safari, something like that. Someone who turns around and realises some lioness or cheetah has crept close and is watching them. That kind of danger,” Vega said immediately. “Then there was something in his magic, but I’m not sure if it was there the first time. Or if he were modifying whatever it was, since it was an entirely public bridge.”

“Presumably he didn’t want you fleeing, first thing,” Vivian agreed.

Farran cleared his throat. “May I ask what the two directions are, or is that the sort of question that won’t be answered? At least for me?”

Both Vivian and Aunt Ancha began to speak before Vivian waved a hand and Aunt Ancha continued. “Here, I think wemight share the basics to make certain we all have the same understanding” She took a breath and went on. “There are lines of Cousins in the Americas, but they are distinct at this point from the lines in Albion. The Pact has an ongoing impact, but it is not the same agreement, not with the long indigenous Fatae, for example. Over the years Cousins descended from Fatae on the continent have migrated to the Americas as well. Some of them are touchy about certain matters.”

“I had explained that, Aunt Acha. Also, some of us are decidedly touchy,” Vega pointed out. “But we have, what was the word Aunt Mera used? Agreed on territories. When someone crosses the ocean, those lines are much fainter and easier to cross.”

“Just so. And if there is some reason this Vandermeer thinks he might have some connection to this piece, or to a similar piece, or the person he is working for does...” Aunt Ancha let her voice trail off. “The other option is that he is someone who is aware of Cousins and our magic, but because he hunts it out, seeking it. They are rare in Albion, because the Pact protects us from interference. But if he is a short-term visitor, he would have not made the full oath on the Silence, perhaps.”

Farran was quick enough to see it immediately. “Keeping his own magic private is a different matter than the full agreement with how things stand, upholding the treaties, and so on. If he didn’t seek out going to Trellech or Dinas Emrys or any of the demesne estates, he just intended to stay in London, too...” He shook his head. “I see the problem. May I ask your recommendations?”

“There’s a third option, actually.” Vivian cut in. “There is a chance— small, but real, I think, in this case— that he is also doing some work for the American government of some form. Or possibly some other foreign government. It’s hard to tell. Iinquired of a few sources, but my sources for that sort of thing are not strong, and they take time.”

Farran blinked. “Well. That would be complicated, yes. Does that change what we do about it?” He addressed that more to Aunt Ancha.

“I would recommend speeding up your research as much as you can. The sooner you can find this piece, the better,” Aunt Ancha said. “We are glad to make a couple of protective talismans available to you.”

Farran coughed. “We have found they have an odd reaction with my magic unless specifically tuned.”

“Oh?” Vivian didn’t say anything, but she arched an eyebrow, and Aunt Ancha subsided. “Vivian, in that case, whatever you might recommend.”