Alwell leaned on the rough spruce counter, ignoring the ominous groan of the planks beneath his thick forelegs. Before him, a pale blue Spiral wrung a shapeless knitted hat between his forepaws. By the dirt under his claws, he was probably a farmer. Behind him his mate, a greenish dragon of the same species as her partner, browsed the crates and shelves that lined the walls nervously. The female’s body undulated softly as she explored, a slow movement that was unnatural for her usually active breed. The male’s claws gripped the edge of the counter, body stiff and alert while his tail, seemingly unnoticed, tied itself in worried knots behind him.

Alwell glowered at the smaller dragons. The two had wandered into his shop, a cramped den at the end of Breakrock Alley, with wide eyes that almost made it seem they were lost. That was unlikely. Dragons didn’t make their way to the Heart Tree’s deepest and most disreputable market tunnel by accident.

“So… can I help you?”

The male Spiral jumped, almost as if he had hoped the hulking Snapper had forgotten about him. “W—well sir, I—I was hoping to show you some items. To—to make a trade, you know.”

Alwell raised an eyebrow.

“H—here,” the Spiral said, thrusting a small canvas bag toward him. Something clinked inside.

Alwell hefted the rough sack. Pitifully small, but it had a promising weight to it.

Moving deliberately, he brought out an oil lamp and sparked it to life. The Spiral flinched again when the spark caught, Alwell noticed with satisfaction. Unhurried confidence, he had found, was an easy way to intimidate flighty breeds like Spirals and Faes. And intimidated dragons didn’t bargain very well.

Once the lamp was lit, Alwell dumped the bag unceremoniously onto the counter. He liked the feeling of the cramped, gloomy shop but sear it, it made things difficult to see sometimes. The tangle of sticks, feathers, and scraps of paper that tumbled out was even less impressive than he had expected.

Alwell snorted in derision. “What do you think I am, a wind dragon?”

The Spiral cowered down even further, if that was possible. Alwell poked at the pile with one broad, stump-like foreclaw, and as the mess shifted he noticed something glittering underneath. This was more like it. Tangled in the refuse of the other ‘treasures,’ several lumps of unworked metal and several more of coloured crystal glinted in the lamplight.

Alwell grunted at the gems. Great, he thought. At this rate, I should open a searing jewelry shop.

“LUX!” he bellowed, not bothering to pull aside the moth-eaten red curtain that separated the dim shop from the rooms behind. She was probably listening in anyway.

After a few seconds of silence a pastel pink Wildclaw, resplendent in violet garlands and delicate jewelry, swept the curtain aside and strode into the room.

“You needed something Alwell?” Her voice, as always, was too chipper, her manner too carefree. Alwell started to shake his head in disapproval, then stopped himself.

No, he thought. She only seems that way. Beneath that lighthearted exterior, Lux was the most dangerous thief in the lair. Besides himself, of course.

He gestured toward the counter, and Lux’s crest rose in excitement when she saw the crystals lying on it. “Oooh,” she breathed, pulling a set of standing magnifying lenses down from a shelf behind them. Deftly, she examined the gems.

“This quartz is a lovely colour, but I’m afraid it’s got quite a few cracks in it. And if you look there, there’s a cloud of small impurities that turns it from clear to smoky. Really quite unfortunate.” She held the largest of the crystals out for the Spiral to see. He leaned in hesitantly but she had already whisked it away, moving on to several small red gems. “And these—I bet whoever you got them from told you they were rubies. A shame, really. They’re just almandine. Pretty, but not nearly so valuable. We could give you a decent price because of the colour, but the cut’s poor as well… oh dear.”

As she spoke, one wicked hind claw tapped out a frantic rhythm on the shop’s stone floor. The tapping would sound like a nervous tic, or perhaps excitement, to any listening dragon, but Alwell knew she had spent years practicing and refining the language of those taps. As many years as he had spent learning it.

The quartz is pure, he interpreted, keeping his face carefully blank. Completely unflawed. Who’d have thought? And the red stones are rubies, nice ones too. But of course, if he knew that he wouldn’t have brought them here.

It only took Lux a few minutes to appraise the stones. The metals, unfortunately, were heavy, natural nuggets that showed no signs of being worked, so there were only so many ‘flaws’ she could find with them. Still, it was impressive how little the Spiral seemed to know about his collection.

As Lux talked, Alwell wrote up a receipt of appraised values. When she was done he held it out to the Spiral. “Now these stones are well cared for, all things considered, and we should be able to find a buyer for the quartz pretty soon in spite of the impurities. As for the rest, they might sit in the back for years before someone can be found to buy them. A pity, really, since there are some decent colours here, but there’s nothing I can do.” Colour was the hardest quality to undersell in a gem. Even rural nobodies like this Spiral could see colour.

The Spiral twisted his hat in his claws at the words, looking worried. His mate glanced at him and seemed about to say something. Alwell wasn’t done with them yet, however. He would not let those rubies find their way to a more reputable buyer.

“Now friend,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I can see that you and the missus are a little hard up at the moment. If you’re willing to repack the merchandise and leave the sack, I suppose I could throw in an extra five percent. Trying to get this one,” he jerked one claw at Lux, “to sort inventory in a, hem, timely fashion is a nightmare all on its own.”

Lux hissed in outrage at the insult, and Alwell was pleased to see the Spiral’s terror shift from him to the Wildclaw. The smaller dragon would be more trusting now. He’d have to thank Lux later.

“I—I think that’s okay. Brisdly wanted to check a few more places, but if the rubies—er—the almandines are what you say then there’s really no point, is there?”

Alwell shook his head somberly.

“I—I guess this is the best offer we’re going to get?”

This was almost too easy. “Well, you could try Silail’s, but he’s a bit more, shall we say, exclusive than I am. I’m afraid you’d just end up coming back here anyway, and by then I might have Lux convinced she needs to sort the stones right away. No need for the bag.”

The Spiral sighed. “I—I guess we’ll take your offer.” His mate’s long form looped up over the counter beside him as he spoke. She gripped his forepaw in hers, but did not speak. Her tail brushed the large piece of quartz fondly.

Alwell opened the till, a sturdy iron box, and counted out the appropriate amount of treasure. Even with the price increase, the gems were worth several times the small heap of gold he paid for them. They really were fine stones. With his contacts in the underground, he would be able to resell most of them before the week was out.