Lyro closed the door behind them.It was a rather small room with Plain walls and a table with two chairs. Percy sat as Lyro leaned against the wall.
"Tell me everything you felt."
Percy did. The three presences. One like the pendant. Two Haunted.
Lyro listened. When Percy finished, he nodded.
"Three presences. Could be patrols. Could be something else." He picked up the case with the finger. "I'll take this to Charles. They'll figure it out."
Percy pointed at the case. "What about that?"
"Not your problem right now." Lyro moved toward the door. "Go home. Sleep. I'll find you tomorrow."
"Alright."
Lyro paused at the door. "Stay safe, Valemont."
He left.
Percy sat for a moment, then stood and walked out. He didn't think about what he hadn't said. There was no point.
He was on his way out when his stomach growled.
"Oh, right. Haven't eaten in a while."
Then he remembered the empty pouch and sighed.
"Haven't eaten, and I have to walk home. And tomorrow I have to go to the orphanage and bring Dana back how am I supposed to let her walk all the way to Fereom district. Why did I even act like I had everything under control in front of Beatrix."
He facepalmed and stopped mid-step.
"Something wrong, Mr. Valemont?"
Percy looked up. Marco was walking toward him.
"Mr Cooper ." Percy greeted him.
"Something bothering you?" Marco asked.
"Is it that obvious on my face?"
"Quite so." Marco's tone stayed easy. "What is it?"
Percy didn't bother dressing it up. "Money problems."
"I see." Marco nodded slowly. "A man has to feed his own stomach at the end of the day, no matter how dangerous the things he survives."
"Well, if that's the case " Percy hesitated, then asked. "Why not just ask for an advance payment, if it's urgent?"
Percy's eyes widened. "How do I do that?"
"Try asking Mr. Norman."
Percy went quiet for a second.
As Marco added " The old man at the counter."
Percy nodded as he thought. "So that's his name ".
"Your help is much appreciated, Mr Cooper"
Marco waved a hand already turning to go. "Don't worry about it."
Percy watched him walk off, then turned and headed toward the counter himself.
Marco stepped into the room and let the door shut quietly behind him.
Twelve people were already gathered around the table, the conversation low and clipped, the kind that didn't pause for new arrivals unless they had something to add.
The finger sat in the middle of the table on a sheet of plain cloth, Craig leaning over it with a magnifying lens which was rusty at some edges , turning it slightly under the lamp.
" This seems to be some kind of a temporary Anchor created just support the actual Anchor."
"Does the finger belong to a real human or just a shape of an Anchor ?" Another added
To which Criag replied " This is a real human finger belonging to a women probably around 16 to 18 years old , might be connected to the overnight dissapearance incidents ."
"The garden it was buried in belongs to House Randal," a third added, She flipped through a thin stack of papers. "The fourth son. Timothy Sathrew."
Marco's eyebrows rose slightly at that, though he said nothing yet.
"Sathrew is a frequent face at the cathedral," the she continued. "Attends most ceremonies. Donates generously. If the church has any hand in this, that garden being his isn't a coincidence."
"Could also mean nothing," Craig said. "Could be someone wanted to drag his name into it deliberately. Convenient scapegoat."
"There's a third possibility," Lyro said. He'd been quiet until now, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. "Hereth descendants. Or someone working under the Cursed Bloodlines of Curtiana."
The room went a degree quieter.
"That's a significant leap," Craig said.
"Maybe. But the two I ran into tonight were sloppy in a specific way." Lyro pushed off the wall.
"One of them was a Shade. He never sensed me. Not even a flicker of doubt and my Anchor i had on me was only a Second Oath Anchor. A Shade with any real strength should've felt something through that regardless. He felt nothing. Which means he's still First Oath."
Margarette, seated near the end of the table, gave a slow nod, her gaze still fixed somewhere past the finger on the cloth.
A man near the back who seemed to be in his late forties, greying at the temples, a folder open in front of him that he hadn't touched in several minutes , he finally spoke.
"If they're First Oath," he said, "then whoever's running this operation is treating them as expendable. Low members. Possibly a wider organisation. You hand a task like this to a First Oath Haunted only if you don't mind losing two or three of them along the way."
" Mr Jornan you seem to be the most experienced regarding this area , so i don't think this is the only reason you came to this conclusion is it ? " Craig asked .
"There's something else." Jornan's tone shifted slightly. " If im not wrong" he looked towards Lyro "you said the cursed child felt the same thing on Marco Street too right? "
"Percy," Lyro replied, flat and immediate.
Jornan stopped.
"His name is Percy," Lyro said, without looking up from where he sat. "Please address him as such."
Jornan frowned, glancing toward Lyro first, then letting his gaze settle on Charles, who simply looked back at him without expression.
Jornan coughed once.
"That was unbecoming of me. I apologise."
-------
Percy stood near the counter, watching the old man finish a stack of paperwork.
When the old man finally looked up, Percy gave an awkward sort of half-wave.
"Mr. Norman?"
The old man studied him for a second. "Valemont."
"Yes. That's me." Percy cleared his throat. "I was wondering if it is possible to get an advance on payment? Just, ah, in case of urgent need."
Norman didn't look particularly surprised by the request as his face did not even shift a muscle.
"How many months worth?"
Percy hesitated. "Two. Just in case."
Norman nodded once, reached beneath the counter, and counted out a stack of silver coins without much ceremony.
"Thirty-five silver crowns."
Percy blinked at the amount sitting in his palm. He hadn't expected quite that much for two months, not from an organisation he'd barely been part of for more than a few days.
"Thank you," he said, recovering quickly enough to sound normal about it.
Norman gave a short nod and went back to his paperwork as though the conversation had already ended.
Percy turned and made his way toward the exit, the coins sitting heavier in his pocket than he ever had . His thoughts went astray.
"How does the man behind the counter have the authority to approve payments like that?"
"And that too for an eclipse syndicate."