New York City isn’t just a place. It’s a lifestyle. Here, all sorts of things don’t make sense. The fact that you slept late because you were out partying all night isn’t something to be ashamed of. The dark circles under your eyes are a badge of honor. Every New Yorker needs a side-hustle plus a hobby project that’ll help you make it to the big leagues.

  The finance bros, the project managers, and your girlfriend in marketing are all part of this diverse ecosphere, which is a living breathing organism in and of itself. Money is the blood of New York City and the people living in it are all the tiny little worker ants that perpetuate the cycle of plastic wastes and vegan pizza (which I personally think no one should have to try. Ever). A loud, obnoxious machine that never stopped chugging along.

  But here… the lights in the parking lot were off. No other cars pulled in after us. Even the valet parking was left unattended.

  It was unsettling.

  “You said these guys are family.” I said, trying to break the uneasiness that had settled over my shoulders, “What does that mean?”

  “It could mean many things.” Emyrith replied, his eyes focused on the elevator doors. “You must remember the context with which the word is used. Theirs, and many of the others that you will deal with, live in a world where tradition is kin to law, when one’s wellbeing was married to the customs of that time. Magic is deeply tied with such rituals, which you’d do well to remember.”

  “I like how you answered my question without really answering it.” I deadpanned.

  Was that a smile I saw on his face?

  “In our world, the concept of family seldom refers to consanguinity. Related affinities such as tradition, apprentice and discipleships, long-forgotten birthrights, oaths and even friendship.” I shot him another look, and he hurried, “In this case, one of the contenders is bound to you by ancient blood, and the other by oath.”

  “Two?!” I exclaimed.

  “Oh, there were more.”

  I thought of a scenario. Me, standing in front of a judge and facing a crowd of people, all chanting ‘Rabble, rabble, rabble!’. Considering my luck, I was lucky it was only two and said as much.

  “No, Mr. Hallow.” His eyes bore into me, “That means that these two families are the most adept and cunning amongst those who have set their sights on you. And that makes them infinitely more dangerous than the others.”

  That shut me up real quick.

  The elevator dinged.

  Emyrith straightened his tie. Even Ruth stopped dangling off Emyrith’s shoulder, sitting up on it instead, crossing her knees and resting her fingerless hands on them. “Let’s both do our best.”

  We walked out of the elevator and into an office building. Fancy tile floors, leather couches in the waiting room, glass-walled conference rooms; it was the stereotypical image of what I’d come to expect of New York corporate life.

  At the same time, my Third Eye was dinging me with every little detail that it deemed was just wrong.

  Small little nightmares.

  Like the woman in the painting whose eyes shifted to track my movements. The spot of shadow outside the window that disappeared, which I could’ve sworn had humanoid figures, except we were on the thirteenth floor. Or the way Ruth whirled around and glared behind us, though when I turned back, there was nothing there.

  I needed to learn more about this Third Eye thing, and fast.

  Emyrith led us into the deepest part of the office. He stopped before a pair of large wooden doors leading into the only room that didn’t have glass panels.

  “Are you ready, Mr. Hallow?” Emyrith said quietly, “Our goal is to make a good impression.”

  “Besides the half-serving of spaghetti and milk on my clothes?” My voice cracked halfway. “Yeah.”

  Ruth cackled.

  He opened the door for me, “After you, Mr. Hallow.”

  The first thing I noticed was a huge screen that took up most of the wall furthest from the doors. There were long conference tables, forming a perfect square, of which two sides were occupied. Large windows gave a glimpse of the snowpocalypse outside. In contrast, the room was deceptively peaceful, like a bomb just waiting for the fuse to be lit.

  “Mr. Hallow, meet Charlotte Valentine, Senior Councillor of the Valentine family.” Emyrith pulled out a chair for me, “And her grandson, Victor Valentine.”

  They struck an interesting juxtaposition: the granny wore one of those ridiculous oversized hats decorated with webbed ribbons and flowers that would attract bees in a second. The rest of her outfit was the same, outlandish but still considered ‘formal’ in other parts of the world. Her posture was impeccable.

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

  The grandson on the other hand, slouched, kept his hands in his pockets, and had the top three buttons unbuttoned. He had unruly blonde hair falling in natural curls to his shoulders, with an expression that just screamed everything here was beneath his notice, and he could care even less if he wanted to.

  Both of them gave me a look, and dismissed me entirely. Unworthy of their attention.

  I took a seat, and remembering Emyrith’s words, shoved down my stupid pride. “Hi. I’m Jain Hallow.” Then my mouth added in, “Ruling elder of the Hallow family.”

  I thought I heard the beginning of a laugh quickly turn into a cough, but didn’t have time to figure out who.

  Emyrith continued, “Taejin Baek, First Elder of the Baek Family and his granddaughter, Mina Baek.”

  A wizened old man wearing traditional Korean garbs called a hanbok. I recognized it, because my mom had one. He tipped the hat to me, which I think is called a gat, in greeting. He leaned forward in the chair, weight supported by his cane.

  Mina Baek looked like she popped straight out of an anime, or one of those K-pop idol competition shows. Large eyes, double eye-lids, full lips, straight black hair that hung to her lips, a dancer’s body –she graced me with a smile which had probably broken more hearts than I had friends, that any other member of the male race would be blessed to receive.

  “Hi.” Her voice was soda-pop, strawberries, and billboard charts.

  “Hey.” My voice cracked again, and definitely not because I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I ever saw.

  It was more due to the fact that her familiar was staring right at me.

  I had no idea what to make of Mina’s familiar. It looked like a cross between a dog and a leopard, both dipped in blue paint and given armored scales. The thing’s tongue lolled out, and it grinned at me with an impressive row of fangs. Right above its ears were two nubs, which it went back to scratching, reminding me of a cat grooming itself.

  A flaming lizard no bigger than my thumb was nestled between the collar of Victor’s uniform and his neck. I’m afraid you understood it as fire-colored, or bright red. No. It was made of fire. It was a living ember incarnate, giving off bits of fire every time it breathed.

  There was no hint of Granny Valentine or Old man Taejin’s familiars. I looked around, and in doing so, caught Emyrith’s eye. He had been doing the same, though much more subtly.

  The fact that their familiars weren’t visible was making him nervous.

  I increased the list of things I needed to find out more about. My Third Eye, Familiars, just this whole magic thing in general.

  But first things first, there was a chance that we could end the discussion of my mom’s inheritance right here and right now.

  I doubted it though. The fact that they came this far meant that they thought their chances of getting their grubby mitts on it were pretty good. And my extensive napping in AP History class came with the free knowledge that people like them never got to their position by being charitable to someone like me.

  Right now though, I had to place my faith in Emyrith; he knew what he was doing. I didn’t.

  Wary of their stares, I slipped my backpack off my shoulder and leaned it against the chair.

  “Pffft.” Victor muffled a laugh.

  Heat rose from my neck, and I almost reached down to flip my bag around to hide the ‘Girl Power!’ logo. But people pick up on things like that. They perceive it as weakness. So I tried to look casual about the whole thing, not giving Victor the satisfaction that he had some hold over me.

  Granny Valentine shot him a glare, and he sat up straighter.

  Emyrith took a seat next to me, taking out stacks of papers from his briefcase that possibly couldn’t all have fit in there. “I’m Emyrith Lin, counsel for Mr. Hallow. For the record, I am additionally designated as arbitrator in this dispute over Miru Shin’s Will. We are convening today to discuss each family's involvement.” He gestured at the Valentines then the Shins, “The Courts have determined that your grounds are just, but wanted to explore the possibility that an introductory meeting with Mr. Hallow may assist in alleviating certain concerns.”

  Charlotte Valentine didn’t waste a second.