Chapter 20: An offer that’s too good to refuse

Chapter 20: An offer that’s too good to refuse

The receptionist at the guild gave me an incredulous look when we arrived. “You brought more orphans with you? I thought we talked about this.”

I laughed while rubbing the back of my head nervously. “Yeah. They want to help out.”

She motioned for the guards and pointed to the room in the back. “You know the deal. They will both need contracts.”

Beth flinched visibly when the man grabbed her while Gordon tried to fight back. The man holding him pinched his neck and he sagged to the floor. Then the man hoisted him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes while Beth and the other guard followed.

“Now that that’s out of the way, your identification card came in,” the woman announced, sliding a thin paper card across the table to me.

Adventurer’s Guild

Rank F License

Guild Fame: 0

Next Rank: 1,000

Name: Oliver Evans

Class: Craftsman

Level: 2

Crafting Association: Registered

Crafting Guild: Undrafted

Sam and I looked over the details on the card. There were a lot of things I was unfamiliar with.

“What is guild fame?” I asked, looking up at the receptionist.

She smiled as she explained. “You gain fame for every quest or task you complete for the guild. There are other ways of gaining fame, so spend time here and do everything you can to help people if you want to rank up.”

“What about me?” Sam asked. “I’ve done quests too.”

The smile she gave Sam was slightly different, a sad little smile. “I’m sorry. Unawakened can’t register. Any fame you earn will go to Oliver.”

“It’s not fair,” Sam pouted. “Why did you get to awaken and not me?”

“Be careful,” a voice behind us called out. “If you truly value your friendship, you won’t hold it against him. Oliver didn’t choose to awaken. These things just happen.”

Leslie walked up beside us and punched me softly on the shoulder. “You ditched me yesterday!”

“I didn’t…” I began but Sam cut me off.

“Can I still awaken?” He asked, rushing toward her, his wide eyes making him look manic.

Leslie took a step back, hiding behind me while I rubbed the spot where she hit me.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Have you hit puberty yet?”

“Of course I have!” He bellowed, earning a giggle from the woman behind the counter. “I’m a man!”

Leslie sighed and explained. “They say most people awaken at the onset of puberty. That’s why girls tend to awaken before boys. We just mature faster. It is possible for it to happen later but if you don’t have awakened parents, it isn’t likely.”

Sam slumped against the counter. “Drat! I want to go on adventures too, you know.”

A commotion from the back where Gordon and Beth had gone made us all look up. Gordon was physically shoved out the door followed by a giggling Beth. They made their way over to us and Beth explained.

“He’s already on his last strike.”

“I just asked a few questions,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Well, you are now all guests of Oliver and the guild,” the receptionist chirped. “Welcome and enjoy your visit.”

“Where’s the food?” Gordon grumbled.

Leslie eyed Beth suspiciously and looped her arm through mine, tugging me toward Mishun’s Southern Grill. Beth rolled her eyes and followed along, leaving Sam and Gordon to bring up the rear.

The smell hit us all at once. Gordon and Sam raced ahead, yelling. “Food!”

Beth rolled her eyes and said, “Boys.”

“Where were you yesterday?” Leslie asked, squeezing my arm. “You promised to help me hunt rats again.”

“Sorry,” I replied. “Something happened and I ended up in Brooklyn.”

“What happened?” She asked, looking just as concerned as Beth had the night before.

“Have you ever crawled into your shadow?” I asked, sure Leslie would understand since she was also awakened.

She frowned. “What? No! Is that even possible?”

I shrugged. “That’s what I did, and I came out of my sister’s shadow on the other side.”

“Oh my!” Beth squealed. “So that’s what happened.”

“Uh, yeah,” I admitted, remembering Beth was also listening. “I didn’t know how to explain that to you.”

“Because I’m not magical?” She asked with a frown. “I get it but you can trust me. I’ll believe you.”

I felt bad for leaving Beth out, so I lied. “You asked me when Gordon was there. There was no way I’d tell him that.”

“Tell me what?” Gordon asked, already seated at the bar.

“That he has a crush on Beth,” Sam answered for me. “That’s my guess.”

“That’s not…” I stammered, looking at Beth who was blushing profusely. “I don’t…”

“He doesn’t…” Beth started to say, frantically looking at me as though she was trying to read something in my expression.

“Are you two…?” Leslie trailed off, looking back and forth between us.

“It’s not like that!” I exclaimed. “We just live together. We’re family.”

“Yeah! Family,” Beth echoed.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” Miss Aires asked, poking her head out from the back. “Who are these people?”

“Orphans,” I replied, thankful for the distraction. “We were hoping for some breakfast.”

“What makes you think I’m going to feed you after you stood me up yesterday?” Miss Aires asked while giving me a stern look. “You promised to work with me and you played hooky on your first day.”

“He was unavoidably detained,” Leslie spoke up from behind me. “Magical malfunction. You know how it is?”

“Is that so?” Miss Aires said, looking down her nose at me. “Fine, let’s see if you can’t make it up today. I have some things in the back I’d like you to taste.”

“Excuse me, Mishun,” an old man interrupted our conversation as he walked through the door followed by an entourage. “Do you mind if I borrow the boy for a bit? I promise to return him to you in one piece.”

Miss Aires stiffened for a moment before turning on her planting her hands on her hips. “The least you can do when you drop by is order something, Director Chrysler.”

“I will, I will,” he conceded, eying Sam and Gordon before settling his gaze on me. “I’ll drop by for a spot of breakfast just as soon as I’m finished with the boy.”

I didn’t have much choice in the matter as his assistant took me by the hand and pulled me after him like a small child. The other kids complained but I didn’t get a chance to hear them as I was quickly whisked across the guild hall. We went up five flights of stairs before stopping at a set of double doors near the domed glass ceiling.

“Tell me something,” Mr. Chrysler began. “Why do you insist on bringing your unawakened friends up here? It would be quite problematic if word got out about what we’ve made. Can you imagine the Lookie-Lous that would befoul my elevators?”

“Are you the Mr. Chrysler?” I asked, gaping at the man. He wore an expensive-looking suit and had perfectly combed hair.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said with a flourish of his arms. “My name is Walter Percy Chrysler and I own this tower. I am also the director of the Manhattan Adventurer’s Guild.”

“Do you do this for every new member?” I asked, wondering why I’d been dragged up to what I presumed to be his office. “Am I in trouble for bringing my friends?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You’re a bit of a conundrum, dear Mr. Evans. You’re not the first to bring unawakened friends to the guild. That I can handle, provided you don’t bring the entire orphanage here, of course.”

“How do you know I’m from the orphanage?” I asked, wondering if he also had an appraisal skill. Or a mind reader skill.

“If you want to keep your home life a secret, I suggest you don’t talk about it,” he replied with a smug look on his face. “In answer to your question, I was alerted to your friend’s presence both the other day and today. Additionally, several of my confidants pointed out to me that not only do you have your friends coming to the guild with you but you also have them doing your quests.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, wondering if I was about to get kicked out of the guild. “I won’t do that anymore, I promise!”

He sighed, shaking his head. “That won’t be necessary. Your friend has been quite helpful in taking care of some of the delivery quests. Quite a few adventurers believe simple parcel delivery is beneath them. It’s about time we recruited someone hungry. We can talk about that at length later though. The reason I brought you up here is another matter entirely.”

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, wracking my brain to remember if anything else I did broke guild rules. Could he know about my shadow? “Was I supposed to deactivate Monster Vision?”

Mr. Chrysler laughed. “No, my dear boy. What do you know about your class? Tell me about it.”

“Craftsman?” I asked, wondering why he’d want to know about that. “I don’t know. It’s pretty normal. I’m guessing I’m going to be a crafter of some sort. It’s in the name, right?”

He sighed and opened the door. Several men and women stopped talking the moment we entered.

“This is the boy I told you about,” Mr. Chrysler began. “Oliver, these are the heads of the Manhattan Crafting Association. They have all reviewed your application and we are here trying to decide what to do with you.”

“He’s too scrawny,” an extremely short and burly man bellowed.

Dreyfus Strongaxe

Class: Blacksmith

Level: 59

Age: 52

Weight: 185 Lbs

Height: 4’6

That was one guild down. I listened in as several of the others complained amongst themselves about me.

“Craftsman sounds very generic,” one woman complained. “In the past, baseless classes are typically useless.”

“Do you have any skill with tools?” A kind-looking woman asked. “Or perhaps an affinity to an element.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly. I can Analyze things.”

“But can you do anything?” Mr. Strongaxe asked.

“I’m good at cleaning,” I replied. “And I can cook pretty good too.”

I was tempted to show off my magic bag but if I was going to join one of them, I wanted them to teach me, not just exploit my skill. That wouldn’t do me any good at all.

Mr. Strongaxe grunted and looked away. “The Blacksmith guild extends a grade ten offer. That’s the best I can do until the whelp proves himself.”

Most of the other guilds followed suit, each making a grade ten offer. One of the men flanking Mr. Chrysler scribbled notes as each one rendered their verdict. One by one they left the office until there was only one left.

A woman wearing a crumpled top hat and a monocle remained. She wasn’t looking at me. Her attention was firmly affixed to Mr. Chrysler. He nodded.

“The Tinkerer’s Guild would like to present you with a grade one offer,” she began. “We will cover your every expense and provide you with a generous stipend. Any resource we can acquire will be yours. What do you say? This is the best our guild has to offer.”

Mr. Chrysler nodded approvingly at me. “This is a very generous offer, Mr. Evans. The Association only recognizes one or two grade one offers every decade. You will be nationally recognized the moment you say yes. So what’ll it be?”

My heart raced as I heard the offer. It felt like a dream come true. I remembered Mr. Penderblast and his flibberjublet and magic car. Those were things I wanted to make.

I took a deep breath, surprised at myself by what I was about to say. “Thank you so much for the generous offer but I have to decline.”