Three people filed back in through the door the lectern man had recently vacated. Two college-aged, a bored-looking guy and an unusually tall girl, and one kind-looking old woman—like a stereotypical friendly grandma. They took the three seats at the front of the room, while the man in the suit entered and set a few sheets of paper on the lectern. He cleared his throat and put on a pair of reading glasses, then began to read in a strong resonant voice, but with a bit of a stammer that undermined his attempted gravitas.

"This meeting of the Awakened is now opened, et cetera et cetera. Look, are we all good if I skip over the boring parts?" he asked, glancing at the head table. They nodded, though the old woman did so a bit reluctantly, her eyebrows creased in irritation. "All right, there's a few new faces here tonight, so I'll just give a quick reminder to everyone that as of now—"

The man made a gesture with his fingers and murmured something under his breath, then tossed a pile of tiny objects into the air that vanished before Alden could spot what they were. He didn't feel anything, but the rest of the room seemed to almost imperceptibly flinch in a wave spreading outward from him, like ripples in a pond. Rika in particular recoiled from his action.

The lights in the room stuttered to black, leaving only the flickering glow of the candles. With the drawn window shades and blocked door windows, the room became reminiscent of a outdoor campfire meeting, lit entirely by dancing firelight. This, of course, only worsened Alden's discomfort.

"—all electronics in the room no longer work. You are not allowed to write down or record anything that happens here. I'll restore your phones as you leave, or you can just wait about eighty minutes and they'll fix themselves." The man coughed and cleared his throat again. "I'm still new to this, so bear with me." He glanced down at the sheet. "...The Three Gods will now—"

The man was interrupted by a snap from one of the Council members. He glanced up confused, and the girl in the center shook her head. Alden assumed that made her the leader. He tried to take more note of her, but beyond her shoulder length stringy brown hair and large dark eyes, Alden couldn't discern anything particularly notable about her from a distance.

"Uhh, right. Sorry. The Council will now propose any new amendments to be voted on during this meeting. Does the Council have anything to propose?"

"We don't," answered the guy on the left.

Did that put him in charge? Alden wondered. The suited man seemed to be taking more direction from the girl in the center, yet the old woman seemed to have seniority or at least was the most predisposed to follow the rules, based on her disapproval from earlier.

"Okay, then I think we open the floor for anyone who has a topic of discussion?" He looked out over the room. The little girl in the front popped to her feet like a cork shot out of a bottle.

"Has anyone seen—" she started, but the male Councilor cut her off.

"Still nothing new there, Natalie. I'm sorry."

"But he's still missing!" she cried petulantly.

"And as soon as we find out anything, we'll let you know. I promise you that our reader's doing their best."

"You said the same thing last time," she said, frowning.

"We know he's definitely still in town, dearie. I'm sure he's fine. Okay?" the old woman chimed in a comforting but somewhat condescending tone. "We'll find him, don't worry."

"Natalie, never fear," came a voice from the back corner, floating through the room like a faint melody. It was somehow both at the volume of a whisper and yet louder than anyone who had yet spoken.

Alden's eyes snapped around to the leader of the robed group, who had lowered her hood. On the right side of her neck, Alden could see the edges of a tattoo with the same eight-pointed star as the clasp on their robes, and from her ears hung silver earrings with the same design. Multiple necklaces hung low around her neck, with pendants and charms Alden couldn't quite make out, but he had a pretty reasonable guess they'd be themed with that same star. As she rose from her seat, Alden saw the cloak shimmer ever so slightly, quite distinctive from the rest of her group's more plain attire.

"Huh?" Natalie said, turning around.

"She will protect your father, as she has protected us all," the girl continued.

Her voice faintly echoed in an unnatural way, and it had an accent—eastern-European, maybe, but he wasn't exactly an expert on accents. Alden couldn't see her clearly from his position and the strange light dance emanating from her robe, but he had to guess she was about his age, or perhaps a year older. At her response, however, most of the room seemed immediately to dismiss her. Alden swore he even heard an audible groan. Rika snorted loudly, drawing a glare from the girl, but assorted chuckles from the remainder of the room.

"But will she bring my dad back home?"

"I'm sure that if it is part of her plan, it will be done," the girl answered confidently.

"You said that before," Natalie answered petulantly. Clearly she held little stock in the group. The council, too, seemed mostly irritated by the interruption, rather than intrigued.

Natalie stormed out of the room after it was clear she wasn't getting what she wanted. Every head swivelled to watch her leave, murmurs following her out the door.

"What was that about?" he muttered to Rika. He had so many questions, and the room seemed to be at a bit of a lull.

She shrugged. "Cult of the Grey, bunch of weirdos. Leader calls herself Cinza, but I don't think that's her real name."

"Why not?"

"It's Portuguese for 'grey'." Rika rolled her eyes.

"And Natalie?"

"Seemed fine, last time I saw her. No idea what's up."

"What's a reader?"

"Someone who can find out things with magic. Tightly kept secret who can do it though. People guard that shit like gold. Only Josh, Rachel and Mabel up there probably know who any of the readers are."

Alden was about to ask more, but someone else had stood up. As he did, his hood fell away and Alden saw it was Ryan, now apparently devoid of cronies and standing alone in the row of chairs.

"Ryan?" the male Councilor (Josh, Alden concluded) asked.

"Here we go," Rika muttered to Alden.

"I'm here to request assistance in settling a debt," Ryan began with aplomb. The councilor suppressed a laugh. "What?"

"You sound ridiculous. Anyway, go on."

"Fuck you, Josh," Ryan shot back.

"Moving on, Ryan," the younger female Councilor (Rachel?) interjected sharply. "What's the debt and why should the council intercede?"

Ryan dropped the fancy tone. "Rika owes me for some gems and won't pay up." The eyes of the Council and Ryan both swung around to their corner of the room. Alden shrunk involuntarily with the sudden attention, back pressed firmly to the wall.

"I told you I would when I could, dick," Rika snapped, unphased. "Besides, it's Seth's fault my topaz got burned away earlier. You should be paying me back for pain and suffering."

"No one got hurt," Ryan said dismissively.

"Because I'm a fuckin' badass, but he was aiming for my eyes. Almost hit my friend, too. We're lucky he's got such a shitty windup."

Another snicker from the council table. Josh clearly wasn't taking any of this seriously. Alden glanced around the room, trying to take the temperature of everyone present. Rika and Ryan were glowering at each other, but maintaining their distance. The rest of the room looked either bored or impatient. This wasn't anything new. From the defensive posture the man at the lectern had assumed, Alden feared where this might lead.

No one else stood within ten feet of Rika. In fact, there was a clear circle of space around the two of them where no one had dared stand or sit. Alden was suddenly very aware of the apparent pariah status of his newfound companion. He felt the urge to intervene, and so far following his urges had turned out pretty well.

"Rika…" Alden whispered.

"What?" she hissed.

"We've got people to find here tonight. Maybe don't piss them off?"

To his surprise, she actually seemed to calm down a bit. She took her hand off her bag, which she'd already unclasped without him noticing. At the gesture, the rest of the room seemed to relax as well, except for Ryan still glowering in the center of the rows of chairs.

"Sorry," she said to the group at large. "Ryan, I swear I'll get your payment to you, one way or another."

"There, she'll get it to you. Are we good now?" Rachel asked calmly.

"Fuck no. I want something more solid. This was a Market deal, it should have Market consequences. Professor Lau—" Ryan stopped in his tracks. Half the room seemed to take a collective breath.

Ryan glanced at her for only a moment, but it was enough. The well-dressed woman with the fiery curls got to her feet. She was even taller than he'd expected. At least six foot easy, if he had to guess. Only Ryan and the female councilor at the front of the room managed to top her. Her red hair fell in waves down past her shoulders, accenting her neck and shoulders in an attractive blaze of fire. Alden fought to keep his eyes on her face, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Rika had no such compunction.

"It's fine. Most present here know who I am by now," she spoke with a strong London accent. "Ryan is correct, however distasteful that statement may be. Rika and Ryan entered into a transaction in the Market, and Ryan held up his arrangement. Rika must complete the transaction or be temporarily banished from the Marketplace."

"Holy shit, Kendra Laushire's running the Market?" Rika asked. The last name sounded familiar to Alden. He felt like he should know it. Someone—or something—famous.

"Was that not common knowledge?" Cinza taunted from the corner, still in her unique wispy voice. A spiteful one, apparently.

"Yes, the Market is a venture of mine," Kendra replied, ignoring Cinza. "I would appreciate discretion," Kendra added pointedly, glancing around the room, "but it was bound to come to the light of day eventually. Now, Rika."

"Yeah?" Rika replied warily.

Alden was taken aback at how easily Rika seemed to cave in for Kendra, but he dismissed the feeling. He didn't know Rika, or any of these people. He'd only just entered this world a few hours ago. There was still way too much to learn for him to start making judgment calls on people's relationships. Alden had to try and catch up as quickly as he could, if he was to make any headway with his own goals.

"Come discuss a payment arrangement with me in the Market after this meeting. Ryan, is this acceptable?"

Kendra was clearly issuing a command, but her voice spoke with such a calm cadence that she never came off harsh or belittling. It almost sounded like a friendly computer from an old sci-fi show before speech synthesizers, strong British accent and everything. In fact, she did sound artificial to Alden, though he couldn't put his finger on how exactly. There was clearly something off about her. He resolved to bring it up with Rika later, when there weren't two dozen pairs of eyes on them.

"Yeah, fine, Professor," Ryan muttered.

The power dynamic was obvious even to a newcomer like Alden. Kendra had command of the room, possibly even above the councilors at the front. The only person who didn't seem to visibly relax when Kendra took her seat was the man at the lectern, but Alden couldn't tell if he was even paying attention. After a few moments of silence, it became clear to everyone he was not.

"Hector?" asked the girl on the council patiently.

"Oh, sorry." Hector scrambled to his feet again behind the lectern. "Is there anything else that needs to be brought before the assembly?"

A few moments of silence passed again. Alden wasn't sure if everyone was reluctant to speak or just bored. He saw a few furtive looks shot at Rika from various members of the crowd, which didn't seem to faze his companion one bit. Was this all there was to the meeting? He felt even more underwhelmed than when he'd first arrived.

"Is this it?" he murmured to Rika.

"Nah, give it a minute," she whispered. "Gotta get some boring stuff out of the way first."

Alden leaned back against the wall, trying his best to be patient. Rika was rummaging through her bag, thoroughly unconcerned with the rest of the room. As Alden watched, her hand dipped further into the bag, and further again. Way too far. He leaned forward eagerly, craning his neck to see, and—sure enough—her hand wasn't coming out the bottom side.

"Wow," he breathed aloud. Rika looked at him curiously.

He shook his head. She shrugged and resumed digging through her bag. A minute later, she came up with a tube of chapstick.

"Okay, I think that's enough time," Hector called out. Focus returned to the front instantly, anticipation building. "Before we continue, I just want to be clear. No one's seen Alpha or Omega anywhere, right? They're still out of town?" He glanced at the female councilor, who nodded. A murmur of agreement swept around the room.

"Who?" Alden whispered to Rika.

"Later."

"Right, good. Okay then. Councilor DuValle?" Hector continued, glancing awkwardly at the head table.

"Thank you, Hector," the girl replied kindly. She glanced at her two companions before standing. "I know you're all impatient to hear the news we called this meeting for, but before we continue I must reiterate the need for secrecy here. Our little society depends on it. Those of you who've been around for the last year don't need reminders, I'm sure, but I see a few newcomers here tonight. You've probably got a lot of questions, and if you stick around after the meeting I'll be happy to answer them as best I can." She took a breath, mostly for dramatic effect. "If you tell anyone, we will find out. We will find you."

DuValle smiled. "Sorry, that was unpleasant. Let me make it up to you."

She produced a small piece of paper from her bag—yet another leather bag similar to Rika and Kendra's. It was a scrap of old, burned parchment. It couldn't have been more than six inches on each side, and the edges were frayed and scorched beyond repair. Fairly unremarkable under any other circumstances, but at its reveal, everyone in the room seemed to lean forward eagerly. Even Hector seemed far more interested in the proceedings.

"We've recovered another Scrap."