Chapter 3: The Weight of a Deal

The soft hum of distant city life did little to pierce the heavy tension hanging in the alley. Cassian stood with his arms crossed, his cold gaze fixed on David as the man began detailing the job. His tone was casual, but Cassian didn’t miss the slight edge of excitement in his voice.

“The crown,” David began, pacing a little, “is in a private collection owned by Lord Fenric. You’ve heard of him, I assume? The kind of aristocrat who has more money than sense.”

Cassian nodded slightly. He wasn’t much for mingling in high society, but the name rang a bell. Fenric was notorious for hoarding rare artifacts, and his estate was said to be more fortress than home.

“The crown is kept in his estate,” David continued, “locked behind some of the best security money can buy. Magical wards, guards patrolling around the clock… the works. But don’t worry, I’ve got some insider intel. There’s a window of opportunity—two hours tops—when the guard rotation shifts, and the magical wards are temporarily lowered for routine checks.”

Cassian listened in silence, his expression unreadable.

David smirked, clearly mistaking Cassian’s silence for interest. “Now, the tricky part is getting past the wards. They’re tied to an ancient rune system, and those runes… let’s just say, they’re not your average, run-of-the-mill protection spells.”

Cassian arched an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me,” he said flatly, “that you’re sending me into a death trap without even knowing how the wards work?”

David chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, that’s where you come in. You’re good at figuring things out on the fly, aren’t you?”

Cassian’s glare was enough to silence whatever half-hearted excuse David was about to spout.

After a moment, Cassian spoke again, his tone laced with suspicion. “Tell me this, David—why the hell does your client want this crown? It’s just a piece of jewelry. Fancy, sure, but useless. What’s the catch?”

David hesitated, his smirk faltering for the first time. He glanced around the alley, as if to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in slightly. Not too much—he knew better than to test Cassian’s boundaries.

“The client didn’t say much about why they want it,” David admitted, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But…”

Cassian’s curiosity piqued despite himself. He tilted his head slightly. “But what?”

David’s grin returned, sly and self-satisfied. “I heard a rumor,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “They say there’s a pearl embedded in the crown—a magical one. Apparently, it came from some ancient dungeon. Who knows what kind of power it holds?”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information. A magical pearl? It sounded like the kind of thing people would kill for. Hell, they’d kill just to get close to it.

David, sensing Cassian’s hesitation, pressed on. “Look, I don’t know what the client plans to do with it, and honestly? I don’t care. What matters is the job—and the payout. So, what’s it gonna be, Cassian? Are you in or out?”

Cassian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, his mind working through the details, weighing the risks against the reward. He pictured the estate, the security, the wards. Every angle, every possible complication. He had a knack for this kind of mental exercise, mapping out contingencies in his mind like pieces on a chessboard.

Finally, he spoke. “The risk factor outweighs the reward on this one, David.”

David opened his mouth to argue, but Cassian cut him off.

“And you,” Cassian continued, his tone cold, “will be doing nothing, as usual. You expect me to take all the risk while you sit back and collect your share. That’s not how this works.”

David frowned, but Cassian wasn’t finished.

“Seventy percent,” Cassian said, his voice firm. “That’s my price. Take it or leave it.”

David’s expression shifted from irritation to something closer to disbelief. “Seventy percent?” he repeated, as if the very idea was offensive.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Cassian didn’t flinch. “You want the job done right? Then that’s my cut. Otherwise, the deal’s off.”

David stared at him for a long moment, the gears in his mind clearly turning. Then, finally, he sighed and threw his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he said. “Seventy percent it is. But you’d better deliver, Cassian. My neck’s on the line with this client.”

Cassian didn’t bother responding. He simply turned and started walking, his mind already shifting to the task ahead.

David called after him, his tone laced with faux cheerfulness. “I’ll send you the details later! Don’t disappoint me, Cassian!”

Cassian didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He knew what kind of game he was playing, and he knew exactly how high the stakes were.

As he disappeared into the shadows, a single thought lingered in his mind.

A magical pearl. Why did that sound like more trouble than it was worth?

The night wrapped itself around the estate like a thick, velvet cloak, shadows pooling in every crevice. Cassian crouched on the edge of a nearby rooftop, his sharp eyes scanning the vast property below. Lord Fenric’s estate was every bit as imposing as the rumors had suggested—a sprawling manor encased in high stone walls, with watchtowers stationed at every corner. Lanterns dotted the grounds, their flickering light casting eerie shadows that danced across the cobblestones.

Cassian let out a slow breath, his thoughts sharp and focused. *David said around now, the security would ease up. The guard rotation shifts from day to night, leaving a brief gap. The magical wards should also be temporarily lowered for routine maintenance. That’s my window.*

He adjusted the straps of the small satchel slung over his shoulder, ensuring it wouldn’t hinder his movements. The tools inside were few but essential—lockpicks, a grappling hook, and a small vial of powdered obsidian for disrupting weaker magical spells.

*Still,* he thought, his gaze lingering on the estate’s main entrance, where a pair of guards exchanged idle chatter. *The tricky part is getting past the rune system. David claimed it was ancient, and knowing him, that probably means it’s just old enough to work halfway. But if it’s as tough as he said, maybe this won’t be a boring trip after all. Can’t really trust that guy, though.*

Cassian smirked faintly at the thought, his mind replaying the earlier conversation. David’s eagerness, his sly grin—it all reeked of someone withholding more information than they shared. But a job was a job, and Cassian had already accepted it. There was no backing out now.

*Let’s go,* he decided, slipping into the shadows.

---

Cassian moved with practiced precision, sticking to the darkened edges of the estate. The first barrier—a section of wall half-hidden by overgrown ivy—posed little challenge. He scaled it effortlessly, his fingers finding purchase on the worn stone. Once at the top, he paused, surveying the grounds below.

The guard patrols were exactly as David had described. Pairs of men wandered in predictable patterns, their paths crossing briefly before separating again. Timing would be crucial here. Cassian waited, his muscles tense, until the nearest pair turned a corner. Then he leapt down, landing soundlessly on the grass.

He crouched low, keeping his movements fluid as he darted between patches of shadow. The manor loomed closer with every step, its towering silhouette stark against the night sky.

When he reached the main structure, Cassian pressed his back against the cold stone and tilted his head upward. The second floor was his target. That’s where the crown was kept, locked away in a reinforced display case according to David’s intel.

His fingers brushed the grappling hook at his side, but he hesitated. *Not yet. First, the wards.*

He circled the building until he reached the rear entrance. There, etched into the stone just above the doorway, was a series of runes glowing faintly in the dark. Cassian studied them carefully. The symbols were intricate, their patterns flowing like the branches of a tree.

*Ancient, alright,* he mused, pulling a small notebook from his pocket. Inside were sketches of similar runes, along with notes he’d gathered over the years. He compared the symbols, his brow furrowing.

The rune system wasn’t as straightforward as he’d hoped. It relied on a layered design, with each symbol reinforcing the next. Disabling one wouldn’t be enough—he’d need to disrupt the entire sequence.

Cassian reached into his satchel and retrieved the powdered obsidian. He poured a small amount into his palm and carefully blew it onto the runes. The powder clung to the glowing symbols, causing them to flicker and dim.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a faint hum, the light in the runes faded entirely.

*That’s one problem solved,* Cassian thought, tucking the empty vial back into his satchel.

He glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear, before using the grappling hook to scale the side of the building. The second-floor window was unlocked, just as David had promised. Cassian slipped inside, landing silently on the thick carpet.

The room was dark, but moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating rows of shelves lined with trinkets and artifacts. Cassian’s gaze swept over the collection, searching for his target.

There, in the center of the room, stood a pedestal encased in glass. The crown rested atop it, its golden frame gleaming faintly in the dim light. Even from a distance, Cassian could see the pearl embedded in its center—a smooth, iridescent orb that seemed to pulse with a soft glow.

*So, this is what all the fuss is about.*

He approached cautiously, his steps light and deliberate. The pedestal was surrounded by more runes, these ones carved into the floor. Cassian crouched, examining them closely. Unlike the ones outside, these weren’t active.

*The maintenance window’s still in effect. Good.*

He retrieved a small glass cutter from his satchel and began working on the display case. The tool made quick work of the glass, leaving a neat opening just large enough for him to slip his hand through.

Cassian reached in, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of the crown. For a brief moment, he hesitated. The pearl’s glow seemed to intensify, as if it were aware of his presence.

*Don’t think too much. Just grab it and go.*

He lifted the crown from its pedestal, careful not to disturb anything else. But as soon as he did, a faint click echoed through the room.

Cassian froze.

*Damn it.*

The runes on the floor lit up, their glow spreading outward like ripples in water. Somewhere in the distance, an alarm began to blare.

Cassian cursed under his breath, shoving the crown into his satchel. He sprinted for the window, his heart pounding as footsteps thundered down the hallway outside.

The guards were coming.

And Cassian was out of time.