"Retrieve a mirror?"
In Pope Pontiff IV's office, Jenkins asked, baffled, as he took the offered file.
"I've noticed you have so free ti on your hands. Since your official debriefing isn't until next week, I've arranged a small task to keep you occupied. The Church has received intelligence suggesting that a mirror in this viscount's collection is a restricted item, and it must be recovered. The funds have been arranged. All you need to do is approach him under your own na and purchase it. Once it's in your possession, deliver it directly to the Office for Special Item Handling—you know the building. Consider this a special assignnt, which is why I'm giving it to you personally. However, your operational budget will be the sa as it was in Nolan."
"I understand..."
Jenkins was glad for the work, a welco distraction from his boredom. As he leafed through the file on the mirror, he had no idea what lay ahead.
Since it was an assignnt ant rely to keep him occupied, the task itself wasn't difficult. The Church provided no backup, but they did grant him a generous budget for expenses.
On Saturday morning, Jenkins visited Papa Oliver to arrange a ti for them to go out. Afterward, clutching the slip of paper bearing the viscount's address, he set off to purchase the mirror.
According to the Church's file, it was a long-handled, silver-frad vanity mirror. It was double-sided and adorned with small gemstones. How the mirror had co into the viscount's possession was unknown, but its properties were partially docunted. The front face, identifiable by its distinct pattern, could absorb curses and diseases from a person's reflection. The reverse side, however, could drain a person's ntal energy by projecting illusions.
The mirror had surfaced briefly in the annals of history and been recorded, currently designated B-10-04-3977, the "Mirror of Good and Evil." Its danger level was not high; as long as one wasn't deceived by the illusions from its reverse side, it was actually a rare, therapeutic Series B Extraordinary item with no side effects.
The viscount's surna was Gurus, which was not an old, inherited noble title. According to Jenkins's research, the elderly man had earned his rank through distinguished military service on the border in his youth.
He had assud the assignnt wouldn't take long, figuring the most ti-consuming step would simply be persuading the viscount to sell the mirror. To his surprise, after he knocked and stated his purpose, a servant ushered him inside to wait. Following the manservant, Jenkins was led into a study where he found three other gentlen already present.
"These are the other guests interested in purchasing the mirror," the servant explained. "Mr. Gurus is occupied upstairs but will be down to see you all shortly."
The servant gestured for Jenkins to find a seat wherever he liked.
Viscount Gurus's study was not particularly large. Of the three well-dressed gentlen who had arrived before him, the eldest stood by the window, gazing out at the street. A man with a small mustache perused the bookshelves with interest, while the only one who hadn't removed his hat sat sipping tea in a chair by a small table against the wall.
As Jenkins entered, all three n turned to look at him, their expressions far from friendly.
"Don't tell ... all these people want to buy that mirror?"
He wondered if he had brought enough money, then worried that the mirror's nature as an Extraordinary item had sohow been revealed. He blinked, studying the sour expressions of the three n, and confird that they were all ordinary humans.
All four n were there for the sa prize, but it was obvious the mirror wouldn't be sold to all of them. Consequently, there was little goodwill in the room. After the servant departed, they stood or sat in silence, none inclined to chat. After a long wait with no sign of Viscount Gurus, one of them finally broke the silence.
"Quite a coincidence, isn't it? Still, I'm rather confident that the mirror won't be falling into just any hands. Forgive , I haven't introduced myself. I work for the auction house on Owl Cross Street. Here is my card."
The speaker was the man with the small mustache. Although he only ntioned the auction house on Owl Cross Street, everyone knew the one he ant—the prestigious establishnt on that bustling downtown street held royal shares. Even City Hall and the police departnt used it to auction off confiscated goods and foreclosed assets.
Jenkins accepted the card with a polite nod, glanced at it, and slipped it into his pocket. The man was a competitor; there was no reason to be overly friendly. The other two n apparently felt the sa, as they simply took their cards with a nod and said nothing more.
"And what of you three gentlen? May I ask where you are employed?"
The mustached man, feeling a bit awkward in the silence, pressed on.
Though they were rivals, basic courtesy was still expected. After all, anyone permitted entry to the viscount's ho was clearly a person of so standing, and it would be rude not to answer a direct question.
"I work for Count Paramount. His lordship wishes to procure a birthday gift for the young miss."
The eldest man spoke. The others had already surmised from his deferential air that he was a senior servant or steward.
"I'm a history teacher at the Bel Diran Public Academy. The school recently allocated a substantial grant to our departnt."
The man in the black hat said.
Jenkins understood. Professor Burns had once ntioned that whenever the history departnt received funding, their first thought was always to acquire new "teaching aids" to enrich their collection.
"I'm a collector," Jenkins said. Seeing the others looking at him, he added:
"You may call Baron, if you wish. Few people do, but I never forget my noble standing."
There was, of course, a touch of bravado in his words. But coupled with his youth, even the title of Baron was enough to command a certain respect from the others.
Jenkins offered them a small smile, then pulled a cat from his pocket and set it on his lap to play. Chocolate, of course, was not a cat to be trifled with and quickly won the "bout" against Jenkins's right hand. Victorious, it hopped onto his shoulder, happily wagging its tail and tickling the back of his neck with the tip.
After waiting a full hour, the four of them were finally t by Viscount Gurus himself. He looked to be at least sixty, and though he didn't require assistance to walk, his gait was so frail that it seed he might collapse at any mont.
He slowly settled into the chair behind his large desk before finally lifting his head to look at the four standing n. Jenkins was sure the others were as displeased as he was. While one ought to respect the master of the house, making them wait an entire hour was excessive.
"The fact that you all had the patience to wait for suggests that entrusting the mirror to one of you would be a worthy decision."
The viscount's voice made him sound even older than he looked. It was a hoarse, strained sound, as if he had to force the air from his lungs with every word. He paused after each sentence, struggling to catch his breath.
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