“Alright, you should be set. There’s your ink, quill, parchment, associates list—which should be self-updating—and a company phone.” Milli, the clerk at the front of the office has been stacking papers in front of Albert for what felt like half an hour and he had been overwhelmed after the first two. “And, starting tomorrow, you’ll be going out on assignment with Graham. He’s an old hat at this, so you’ll be in good hands.”

“Yeah, Graham is good at what he does.” Amy said with a nod. “Just treat him like you treat me and you’ll be fine.”

Albert wanted to ask questions and object to what was being laid out in front of him, but something about the way Amy was patting his shoulder told him that he should shut up and accept what he was being given. He had accepted the terms already, he just thought it wouldn’t work out precisely as it was.

“Thank you.” Was all he managed to squeak out.

“And don’t worry about your file, nothing on there has really changed apart from your status as a permanent associate.”

Amy’s comment actually calmed Albert down some. He knew what she was talking about. His file, which, now that he was thinking about it he had no idea what that actually was, would still specify that only Amy could show up at his house. Which meant that he was still probably going to have some level of contact with her. After all, she was the only person in the whole building he actually felt like he could trust. Even if she wasn’t entirely trustworthy.

“Right.” Albert nodded along with Amy. Somehow, the motion helped him calm down and process what it was he was actually doing. “So, I can go home now?”

Amy checked her watch. “Yeah, it’s been long enough. You should probably be fine.”

She said that, but she was still fully reclined in her chair. It looked like she had no intention of going anywhere. Amy was, however, his ride and he had no other way of getting home apart from walking through one of the worst parts of town. And he really didn’t want to do that. Walking down the street alone wasn’t something Albert was eager to do again for a while.

“So…” Albert started, tilting his head down towards Amy.

“Oh, heck. Right. Your quill.” Amy gestured to the, rather plain, feather quill sitting on the stack of papers in Albert’s lap. “You don’t need me to get around anymore, so long as you have that. And I’m warn you now, never lose it.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s the same kind of quill I have. It’s imbued with power specifically to aid people that do what we all do. It can put people in arbitration rooms, write contracts, and it can take you places. But yours will have some limitations since you haven’t contracted that many people.”

“So I can just hold it and think home and I’ll go home?”

“You’ve got three destinations to use. One of them defaults to your collector, which is Graham for now. So you can pop in on him whenever you like, not that I recommend doing that. I suggest you make the office another set point, probably somewhere out back where no one will see you pop up. And I also suggest you make another set point somewhere close to home; again, somewhere where people won’t see you just pop up.”

“Does this thing come with a manual?” Albert joked, but the look on Amy’s face said that it actually might but it was complicated.

“Would you like the manual, dear?” Milli asked, inserting herself back into the conversation.

“Maybe… later?” Albert was confused as he was taking in Amy’s facial cues, but it looked like he’d given the right answer.

Amy nodded in encouragement. “You can read the manual on your own time, but you should probably get home. So, I recommend you go out back and I’ll show you how to set a location.”

Albert nodded and began to pack all of the things he’d been handed into his backpack. He was hesitant at first to touch the quill, but he wasn’t getting any sort of direction from Amy not to. It didn’t do anything when he did, but something told him that it had to do with the quill being his. Once everything was in the bag, apart from the quill and the phone he’d been given—an extremely basic looking flip phone—which was now in his pocket. As soon as he was packed up, Amy rocked forward from her chair and onto her feet and led the way out of the building and around behind it.

Once they were both in the cramped space behind the building, which was about four feet wide and sandwiched between the grubby exterior of the structure and the chain link and barbed wire fence behind it, Albert had intended to ask what he needed to do. But Amy, in an act that shouldn’t have surprised him at all, signaled for him to be quiet. She was peering around the small space intently, head craning towards the barred windows on the back of the building. It was a minute before she turned back to Albert and spoke.

“I need to level with you, this isn’t going to be pleasant.” Amy’s expression was severe. “And I don’t just mean the quill. But you need to be a lot more careful with everyone else that works for Death. You’re going to need to be comfortable with lying on a regular basis. Milli seems nice, but she works here for a reason. Graham won’t care much what you do, but he can be reigned in like Hope can control me. I’m betting Death will have him reporting back on almost everything you do.”

“Thanks…” Albert wasn’t sure how to respond to what he was hearing, but he felt grateful for the heads up. “Is that why you’re being so secretive?”

“No. That’s just the unpleasant part. I want to catch you up a bit. There are some things you should know that no one else is going to tell you, and I might get in a little trouble for telling you. Like not to ask for help.”

“What do you mean? I’ve asked you for help a bunch.”

“Yeah, but I’m not about to try and take advantage of you.” Amy pressed her index fingers to her forehead in a little steeple. “When you ask for help with things that don’t directly pertain to work, it can be take as an unspoken debt. Like if you’d asked for Milli to get you the manual for the quill, she might use that as an opportunity to have you owe her a favor.”

“And that’s… bad?” Albert wasn’t quite sure how owing someone a favor could be bad. Yes there were bad favors that people could ask him to do, but they couldn’t have been that bad.

“It can be very bad. Because you can’t exactly say no to that kind of favor. As long as there’s a reasonable correlation in value, people that work here could bind you into almost any kind of arrangement. And the refusal to do so can be very bad.”

Albert paused, something about what Amy was saying didn’t seem to add up. “What about my contract? Didn’t it specify that Death’s associates wouldn’t be able to harm me?”

“Harm, yes. Hold you accountable for your actions and agreements… not so much. If you default on an agreement, without establishing some sort of default baseline on defaulting on the agreement, you get held to the natural standards of contracting. And that means you lose all your spiritual holdings. For you, that can include your own soul.”

“Oh.” Albert whispered, more to himself than Amy. “That’s not good.”

“And that might be something Death is counting on. He can deprive any of his associates he has under contract of their position and lay claim to their belongings through arbitration. He may have even encouraged some of the associates to make get you to default as an easier way of getting your spiritual property.”

Almost immediately upon hearing Amy describe the situation, Albert realized that she had known this all along. “And you didn’t think to warm me about this before?”

“It didn’t even occur to me until you asked about the manual. It’s not something I really have to worry about, since I don’t own any spiritual property. Not anything anyone could lay claim to anyway.”

Frustration was boiling up in Albert’s mind, and he could feel himself getting red in the face. The trust that he had been counting on, while still being there, was proving to be too confident. Amy was knowledgeable, and she seemed to have his best interests at heart for some reason, but she was also in a side of the world Albert was entering that he wouldn’t be interacting with. Her experience, while large, didn’t full encompass what he needed to know.

“Calm down, please.” Amy held her hands out as she spoke, her eyes again darting around the back of the building. “I’m sorry, all right? I’m not exactly great at helping people. But you’re… you probably shouldn’t have gotten wrapped up in any of this. But I don’t see a way out for you. So, you need to be smart. Smart, and calm.”

Albert took a deep breath in and out before he spoke again. “Alright. This is going to suck, but I can do it.”

Amy smiled, almost proud as Albert repeated the mantra. “You got it. Lucky for you, you are absurdly lucky. Lucky, and you’ve got me in your corner. Just remember, no favors.”

“Right.” Albert said with a single nod. “No favors. What about this quill then?”

“Already quick on your feet, aren’t you. You’re going to have to phrase things like that. Be non-committal. If your phrasing doesn’t actually ask for help but still takes the form of a question like that, you’ll be a lot safer.”

Amy gave Albert a pat on the shoulder in encouragement and produced her own quill. Albert followed suit.

“Okay. Two things you need to be aware of with your quill. Intent, and consequences. Your quill functions on your intent, but there are consequences every time you use it. Like this.”

With her left hand held out in front of her, Amy jabbed the quill down into her waiting open palm. As she did so, the moment the nib pierced her skin, she vanished.

“The price is pain.” Amy said, her voice now coming from behind Albert. “Of blood. I’m not entirely sure. My blood doesn’t stay outside me very long anymore. And while there isn’t a price to get into an arbitration room, just intent, failing arbitration is kind of the price.”

Albert had spun around at the sound of her voice, only to see her standing behind him in much the same pose she had just been in. But now the quill was above her palm and there wasn’t a scratch on her.

“You’ll have to be more careful. I don’t think you’ll heal quite as fast as I do, so any wounds you make should be easy to conceal and small.”

“So, I can prick my fingertip… or jab my shoulder?”

“Both good options, but your fingertip will be a bit more obvious. Your mom might ask why you always have a bandage on your finger if you need to cover it up. Just find something that works for you.”

“Okay, how do I set a location to show up at?”

“It’s intent. You have to intentionally want to go somewhere and set it as a fixed point for you to travel to. And when you pay the price, it’s a set location.”

“So, I just think, I want that spot to be my location… and I just—” Albert held his quill absently and as he pressed his thumb down gently on the nib he found himself standing somewhere else. “Hell, that’s sharp as—gah.”

Amid his hissing and moaning, Albert realized that he had appeared where he had indicated. It was exciting, in a sense, though it would have been better if it hadn’t come with an equal amount of pain. As he stood there, thumb in his mouth to stop the blood that had begun to drip, he thought it was probably pain that was the consequence, not blood. He had plenty of blood, but the amount that was dripping out wasn’t as bad as the pain.

“Careful, it’s sharp.” Amy warned, smirk on her face. “But yeah. As long as you’ve been somewhere and you can visualize it with the intent to go there, you can make it a destination. I also recommend not jabbing yourself on any of your finger pads, it hurts worse.”

“You didn’t warn me on purpose that time.” Albert hissed, the pain slowly fading. “But I’ll take your advice into account for next time.”

Amy’s smile, and it was odd to see her smile so much, wasn’t fading. Albert felt like he was her student and she was enjoying his successes as much as he was; though, without the pain that accompanied them.

“One last thing, before you prick yourself again and accidentally wind up somewhere you don’t want to be.” Amy held up her own quill as she spoke. “Your quill is part of your role as an arbitrator the same way mine is part of my role as a collector. The more success you have in your role, the more places you can set as a destination and the more impressive it will look. Both are important. The way it looks might not sound like it’s important, but it is. Trust me. People judge you a lot by the tools you use.”

Albert looked down at his own quill. It was a plain looking speckled feather that looked like it could have been bought at a craft store, and the nib was a small tarnished brass tip without any detail to speak of apart from the slit the ink moved through. It didn’t look as large as Amy’s either, though that could have been entirely circumstantial.

“I think I got it.”

“And my number is programmed in your phone, so if you need help you can text me. Hope can ask to see my texts at any time, or just ask me what I’ve been texting, but you can ask generic questions.”

It was starting to feel like Amy was behaving more like a worried mother than a teacher. And while they was more than a little silly to think about, because she still looked like she was about the same age as he was, it was also reassuring. She felt like she genuinely cared, though he doubted she would be as open about the way she felt any time soon.

“Hey. Maybe you should calm down. Luck is on my side, remember?” Albert joked. “And I thin I’ll be able to make it a day or two without you looking over my shoulder.”

“You had better.” Amy growled, not in anger exactly, but it felt protective. “I’ve put a lot of effort into keeping you alive. You had better not squander it.”

“I won’t.”

Albert gave Amy one last reassuring smile before he poked the nib gently against his shoulder. The quill poked through the sleeve of his shirt effortlessly, and as soon as it touched his skin he was gone.