Chapter 59: Chapter 5: Blood work

> “Finding an heir was a harder task than one would think. So many of the old families have daughters who they bred with the sole capability of being sold off like show cows. It is a shame that they wasted such beauty and physique without also cultivating their minds. Such women in ages past have ended dynasties and empires. The spare sons fared no better, spoiled beyond usefulness, like a rotten strawberry.”

Everyone started shouting all at once. Out of the six people present, it was me, surprisingly, who took this new development in stride. J.P. rose to my defense first, followed by my tablemate, Lucca.

“I insist, Dalia, we put Ms. Peters through her paces and-”

“We’ve adhered to the protocols to the letter,” interrupted Lucca, “and she satisfied them. It is not your place to-”

“Are you serious with this shit?”

Emma was the most indignant, and I suppressed a snicker as she too made her piece known. It was then that I realized they were not so much defending me and my status as a Guild member, but the process itself. After all, if Dalia could undo all their hard work on nothing more than a whim, what else could she do? Demote them? Revoke their membership entirely?

All three continued on for some time before Gilbert finally brought the meeting attendees to heel again with several bangs of his gavel.

“Order,” said Gilbert, before turning and whispering something to Dalia, who nodded and then stood.

“Let’s try that again, shall we? As I was trying to say, I cannot accept the Committee’s recommendation at this time. Ordinarily, yes, your initiation would have been sufficient. In fact, it might even have been a bit overzealous,” said Dalia, looking briefly at Emma, before continuing.

“But this is not an ordinary induction. You,” she said, pointing at me, “have somehow discovered what was once thought lost forever: the twelfth token and with it, the claim to the Third Seat of the Breuckelen Table that has been vacant for hundreds of years. So the normal set of protocols will not be enough, particularly when you have refused to tell us where it was you found the gold token.”

I stared at her, unblinking, wanting more than anything to slink down into the robe and let it carry me away from here. I had done everything that was asked of me, and then some, even when it had seemed impossible.

“What will be enough, then?” I finally said, the anger rising in my voice. “How about I cut off my own arm and offer that on a silver platter? Would that satisfy you?”

Dalia laughed, followed by a smattering of nervous chuckling from the rest of the room.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jade,” she said. “That would be a waste of a good limb. And you’re going to need it, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You all were so quick to yell and snap and shriek, like a bunch of yapping dogs, that you didn’t let me finish. I only said that I was rejecting your recommendation that Jade be admitted into the Guild now. I never said anything about turning you away entirely. ”

“Dalia, this is not proper,” said J.P. “The Committee’s recommendations have always been respected. You cannot just-”

“What, run the Guild on my own? No, unfortunately not. Maybe if I could, then things would be different.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Lucca.

“Enough bickering,” Dalia said. “Jade, your admission to the Guild is suspended pending one final task. Complete it and you will be welcomed with open arms. No more hoops to jump through and no catches. You might even find yourself moving up a Seat in the process.”

“What would I have to do?” I said, not really wanting to know the answer.

“Simple. All you need to do is fetch a vial of Dragon’s blood.”

“You’re joking, right? Dragons aren’t real.”

“Not that kind of dragon,” said Gilbert, removing an envelope from his robe and placing it on the table. “It’s a red resin, been around for thousands of years. We want you to take the one from the Emerson Pigment Library up in Boston.”

“So you were in on this the whole time?” said J.P. “Why then did you make us engage in this charade? Why are we even here tonight? You both know that our resources could have been spent dealing with-”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Stop,” said Dalia, her voice suddenly thunderous. “If you must know, J.P., you were the one we were going to ask to retrieve the vial. But you’ve just convinced me it would have been a mistake to give you this task. So it will be up to Jade and Emma instead.”

“I’m sorry, Jade and Emma what now?” said Emma. “You’re daft if you think I’m going anywhere near that vial. You wanted J.P. to get it, have him go to Boston with the new girl and leave me out of it.”

“Emma,” said Dalia, “your father was the one who located the vial in the first place. It seems only fitting that his eldest daughter and heir to his Seat be the one to finish what he started.”

“Is that supposed to make me all sentimental or something? You think you can manipulate me that easily? Well, piss off!”

Dalia arched her eyebrows and was about to say something when Gilbert intervened.

“Emma, do not let your father’s work die in vain, he wouldn’t want tha-”

“Don’t pretend that you speak for him. Or for me.”

With that, she pushed herself up from her chair, threw the hood of her robe over her head, and with a squeeze of the gold clasp, she was gone.

The room went silent, save for the slam of the side door that the now-invisible Emma had just slammed shut, and we all glanced around the room awkwardly waiting for Dalia to continue with the meeting’s agenda. Instead, she whispered something in Gilbert’s ear, who nodded, before retreating out the backdoor without another word.

“We’re done for tonight. Next meeting will be in four weeks,” said Gilbert and J.P. and Lucca too rehooded and vanished. “Jade, stay so I can give you the specifics.”

The side door opened and shut again and only then did Gilbert traverse the length of the table and sit down in the empty Pavonia Third Seat.

“Do these meetings normally go like that?” I asked, and Gilbert let out a chuckle before sliding the envelope toward me.

“Only on days ending in y,” he said with a half-smile. “You get a room full of people who are used to not taking no for an answer and sparks inevitably start to fly. It’s a wonder the Guild has gotten anything accomplished in the last hundred years.”

I opened the envelope and withdrew a single sheet filled with typed letters.

“The pigment library has over 2,000 specimens,” said Gilbert, as I scanned the paper. “We’ve been able to narrow down the location of the Dragon’s blood vial to the fourth floor, but the library’s index is, unsurprisingly, not publicly available. You’ll have to see what you can come up with once you’re on the ground in Boston.”

“Ooohkay,” I said.

“Any questions?”

“Only a million. Like, for starters, where the heck are we?”

“Ah, I suppose that would naturally be the first question after we basically blinded and kidnapped you? You can see for yourself when you leave, but we’re currently in the south tower of the Madison Avenue Armory. It’s been the Guild’s headquarters since the mid-60s.”

“You mean that abandoned brick castle on 96th Street? I used to walk by here every week in high school on the way to chess club. Never thought it was anything more than an old relic that the city refused to let anyone tear down.”

“And that’s why it makes the perfect headquarters for our organization,” said Gilbert. “This tower has the meeting room, the library, and Dalia’s study at the top. If you go down to the basement, you can reach the north tower, which has office space for each member. We’ve also got some auxiliary locations scattered around the city that we’ve collected over the years, but unfortunately you’ll have to wait until you actually become a member to get access to those.”

“Fine. But now that I know about this place, you’re just going to let me come and go as I please?”

“Yes, and you can keep the robe too, for now. Put it on somewhere safe and activate it, and then you can enter through the door on the corner of 96th and Madison that we took you through tonight.”

“So you guys really are just walking around with invisibility cloaks like it’s no big deal. Do I have that right?”

“Ha, yes. It’s actually a pretty complicated piece of alchemy, but for your purposes, just pull the hood up over your head, grip the gold clasp for a second, and then, voila, you’re invisible.”

I tried it for myself and nearly fell backward when my entire body vanished below me. It took me a moment to locate the gold clasp again and undo the alchemy, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the outlines of the robe reappeared along with the rest of me.

“That … will take some getting used to,” I said.

“They’re mostly useful at night when there aren’t so many people around,” said Gilbert. “During the day, you’ll probably make it about five feet before bumping into someone. Also, walking about Manhattan in a full-length black robe in broad daylight will still draw stares, so try to use it sparingly.”

“Understood,” I said. “All that talk earlier about getting me properly equipped, that went out the window, I assume?”

“Yes, for now. But take the robe. It might be useful for your task, but don’t think you’re just going to waltz into the library with it on and walk out with the vial. There’s a reason that Emerson has been able to hold onto it for so long.”

“That’s super helpful,” I said. “You got any more pointers? Should I duck when the booby-trapped metal blade comes swinging for my head?”

“Go talk with Ms. Patel. Despite her performance tonight, she’s got a cracking mind, as she would tell you, for sneaking into places where she’s not welcome. If you hurry, you can catch her at her usual haunt down in the Village.”

“Fine, I’ll do that. It’s not like I wanted to go to sleep anytime soon.”

“Good,” said Gilbert, ignoring my sarcasm. “I would suggest that you two head up to Boston as soon as possible. Dalia will expect you to have retrieved the vial by the next Guild meeting.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic. Just so I know what the hell I’m getting myself into, what’s so special about this vial anyway?”

“It’s the only known remaining sample from the 1652 batch made by George Starkey,” said Gilbert, as if I should recognize the name as readily as the president of the United States. Thankfully, he acknowledged my bewilderment without comment and continued.

“One of the most accomplished alchemists of the past half millennium. And, in a strange coincidence, one of the former occupants of your Seat.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s, umm, interesting. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

Gilbert’s demeanor suddenly spun on a dime, the somewhat friendly chat we were having turning deadly serious.

“We believe that it’s the key to creating a new Philosopher’s Stone.”