The ledger before Elise Harwood told a story of gradual decline that no amount of creative accounting could disguise. Three generations ago, her family had controlled timber harvesting rights across five major forests. Now they managed a single modest lumber yard and brokered shipments between actual producers and buyers. The numbers marched across the page in her precise handwriting, each column another step down a path her grandfather would have found unthinkable.
She closed the book with a sigh and pressed her fingertips to her temples. The headache that had been threatening all morning was finally asserting itself, a dull pressure behind her eyes that she recognized as the aftermath of yesterday's verification work. Four separate contracts had required her bloodsight, each merchant more nervous than the last as they sought assurance that their trading partners weren't concealing information.
"More tea, Miss Harwood?"
Elise looked up to find her assistant, Lina, standing in the doorway with a steaming pot. The girl was barely sixteen but already showed the sharp mind and discretion essential for work adjacent to blood magic.
"Please," Elise said, pushing aside the ledger to make room. "And I've told you before, it's just Elise when we're alone."
Lina smiled as she poured the fragrant liquid into Elise's cup. "Your brother says maintaining proper forms is important for business."
"My brother says many things," Elise replied dryly. "Not all of them worth heeding."
As if summoned by mention, Markus Harwood's voice carried from the outer office, his tone carrying the particular blend of charm and intensity he reserved for business prospects. Elise couldn't make out the words, but the cadence was familiar—the pitch that preceded either a profitable venture or another of his spectacular miscalculations.
"Shall I tell him you're occupied?" Lina asked, clearly also recognizing the signs.
Elise considered it. Her headache argued for delay, but experience had taught her that Markus's schemes often required immediate tempering. "No, send him in. But stay close. I may need rescue."
Lina's knowing smile suggested she understood perfectly. The girl withdrew, and moments later Markus burst in with the barely contained energy that seemed his natural state.
"Elise! Just the person I needed." He was dressed in what she thought of as his merchant-prince attire—quality materials cut in a style just fashionable enough to impress without suggesting extravagance. The effect was somewhat undermined by the ink stain on his right cuff and the wood shavings clinging to his boots.
"I'm your only sister, Markus. Who else would you be looking for in my office?" She gestured to the chair across from her desk, hoping he would take the hint to settle.
He did sit, but leaned forward immediately, elbows on her desk. "I've just met with Casimir Voss."
The name was familiar. "The Nordmen trader? The one bringing furs through Frostford?"
"The very same. But he's expanded his interests." Markus's eyes gleamed with the excitement that always preceded his riskiest proposals. "He has connections with a logging operation in the northern reaches. Old growth timber, Elise. The kind shipwrights pay premium prices for."
Elise sipped her tea, using the moment to organize her thoughts. "The northern reaches are contested territory. The Nordmen clans have been raiding each other's timber claims for generations."
"Which is why Voss needs partners with established shipping arrangements," Markus countered. "The timber itself is secure—his clan has held that territory for three generations. It's getting it to market that's complicated."
"Complicated," Elise repeated. "An interesting choice of word for what I suspect involves bypassing at least two tariff stations and possibly violating the Frostford Treaty."
Markus waved a dismissive hand. "Legal technicalities. The treaty only restricts military movement, not commerce."
"That's a creative interpretation that the League's trade council might not share." Elise set down her cup with deliberate care. "What exactly are you proposing, and what does it have to do with me?"
Her brother had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Voss wants assurance that we can be trusted. He's suggested a bloodbound contract."
And there it was. Not just a business proposal but one requiring her particular skills. Bloodbinding was among the more complex applications of blood magic, creating tangible consequences for breaking agreements. Such contracts weren't technically illegal in Salthaven, but they existed in a gray area that the Guild of Blood Artisans preferred to regulate carefully.
"A bloodbound contract requires Guild registration if the value exceeds fifty silver marks," she said. "Which means documentation, inspection, and taxes."
"Unless it's classified as a preliminary agreement rather than a binding contract," Markus countered. "Preliminary agreements only establish terms for future negotiation. They fall under the personal practice exemption."
Elise raised an eyebrow. "You've been studying magical contract law?"
"I've been studying how to rebuild our family's position," he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "This timber could do that, Elise. One successful shipment would generate enough profit to secure three more. Within a year, we could be operating at grandfather's scale again."
The appeal to family legacy was calculated, but no less effective for its transparency. The decline of Harwood Timber had begun before either of them was born, but its consequences shaped their lives daily. Their parents had managed to maintain appearances while gradually selling off assets. By the time Elise's magical talent had manifested, the family had been reduced to a respectable façade covering increasingly desperate finances.
Her Guild training had stabilized their situation, providing reliable income that kept creditors at bay. But stability wasn't restoration, and Markus had never accepted mere survival as sufficient.
"Tell me about Voss," she said, neither agreeing nor refusing yet. "What do you know of him beyond his business proposal?"
Markus relaxed slightly, recognizing the shift from rejection to consideration. "He's third-generation Nordmen settler in Frostford. His grandfather came south during the migration after the Great Freeze. Family operates a successful trading post specializing in northern goods—furs, specialty woods, certain minerals. No political entanglements that I could discover. Married with two children. Keeps his word, according to three separate sources."
The thoroughness was impressive and somewhat reassuring. Markus's enthusiasm sometimes outpaced his diligence, but not today, it seemed.
"And the timber claim itself?"
"Approximately twenty miles north of the formal border, in a valley controlled by the Bear Claw clan. Voss married into the clan, which gives him harvesting rights. The trees are old growth redwood, some over a hundred feet tall. Perfect for shipbuilding."
Elise considered the information, weighing risks against potential rewards. A preliminary bloodbound agreement would create magical consequences for deliberate deception but wouldn't commit them to the full venture until they could verify Voss's claims.
"I'll meet with him," she decided. "No promises beyond that. I'll need to assess him myself before considering any binding, preliminary or otherwise."
Markus's face split into a grin. "That's all I'm asking. He's waiting in the outer office."
"Now?" Elise's headache pulsed in protest. "Markus, I've already conducted four verifications today. Bloodsight requires recovery time."
His expression fell. "He leaves for Frostford tomorrow morning. This is our only chance to secure terms before he accepts another offer."
The convenient urgency was a familiar tactic, but the opportunity itself might be genuine. Elise closed her eyes briefly, centering herself and assessing her reserves. The headache was uncomfortable but manageable. A simple verification wouldn't strain her capabilities, provided she kept it focused and brief.
"Send him in," she said finally. "But only for an initial meeting. Any actual bloodwork will wait until tomorrow morning before he departs."
Markus was already on his feet. "You won't regret this, Elise."
"I frequently regret indulging your schemes," she replied, but without heat. "Go on, before I change my mind."
As he hurried out, Elise opened her desk drawer and removed a small wooden box inlaid with silver wire in intricate patterns. Inside, nestled in velvet, lay her professional tools: a silver lancet for bloodletting, glass vials for collection, and a polished obsidian disk for bloodsight work. She placed the disk on the desk before her, its black surface reflecting the room in distorted miniature.
The door opened again, admitting Markus and a stranger who could only be Casimir Voss. The Nordmen trader was tall and broad-shouldered, with the fair coloring typical of his people. His beard was neatly trimmed rather than worn in the elaborate braids some Nordmen favored, and his clothing blended northern and southern styles in a way that suggested practical adaptation rather than cultural statement.
"Miss Harwood," he said, bowing slightly. His accent was present but mild, indicating long residence in the south. "Your brother speaks highly of your skills."
"My brother speaks highly of many things," Elise replied, gesturing to the chair Markus had vacated. "Please, sit. I understand you're interested in a business arrangement."
Voss settled into the chair with the careful movements of a large man accustomed to navigating spaces designed for smaller people. "Direct. Good. Yes, I propose a timber venture that would benefit both our interests."
"So I've heard. Before we discuss specifics, I should clarify my role." Elise folded her hands on the desk, deliberately not touching the obsidian disk yet. "I'm a licensed practitioner with the Guild of Blood Artisans, specializing in verification and binding. My work ensures that agreements are entered with full disclosure and maintained with proper commitment."
"Blood magic," Voss said, nodding. "We have similar traditions in the north, though less formalized."
"Indeed. Different applications, same fundamental principles." Elise studied his face, noting the weathering that spoke of time spent outdoors despite his merchant status. "My brother tells me you seek a bloodbound preliminary agreement."
"I do." Voss met her gaze steadily. "Trust is valuable but verification is better. My clan believes that blood speaks truth when tongues may lie."
It was a Nordmen saying, one Elise had encountered in her studies. The sentiment aligned with blood magic principles, if expressed more poetically than the Guild's technical language.
"Before we proceed to any binding, I would need to conduct a basic verification," she explained. "This involves using bloodsight to confirm that you believe what you're telling us about this venture. It cannot detect facts you don't know, only deliberate deception."
"I understand," Voss said. "We call it truth-seeing in the north. The process is similar, I think."
Elise nodded. "Typically I would perform this now, but I've conducted several workings today already. Blood magic requires recovery time between significant applications. I propose we meet tomorrow morning before your departure."
Something flickered across Voss's face—disappointment, perhaps, or recalculation. "Unfortunately, my schedule is fixed. I must depart at first light to reach the northern checkpoint by nightfall tomorrow."
"I see." Elise considered her options. A basic verification was within her current capacity, though it would worsen her headache. The question was whether this opportunity justified the discomfort.
She glanced at Markus, who was watching the exchange with poorly concealed anxiety. Her brother had many flaws, but lack of business instinct wasn't among them. If he believed this venture promising enough to research Voss thoroughly, perhaps it merited consideration.
"I can perform a limited verification now," she decided. "Enough to establish basic trustworthiness. Any formal binding would still need to wait for another occasion."
Relief washed over Markus's face. Voss simply nodded, as if he'd expected this outcome all along.
"What do you require of me?" the trader asked.
"A small blood sample and your direct statement of intent." Elise drew the obsidian disk closer. "The process is painless and uses only a few drops."
"Blood is precious," Voss said, rolling up his sleeve to expose his forearm. "But knowledge is worth the price."
Another northern saying. Elise found herself warming slightly to the trader's straightforward manner. She removed the silver lancet from its box and placed it on a clean cloth beside the disk.
"Please state your name and the purpose of our potential agreement," she instructed.
Voss placed his arm on the desk, wrist up. "I am Casimir Voss of the Bear Claw clan by marriage and Frostford by residence. I seek a trading partnership with the Harwood family to transport timber from northern territories to southern markets, sharing both risk and profit according to investment."
Elise picked up the lancet. "This will sting briefly."
With practiced precision, she made a small incision on the inside of his wrist where the veins ran close to the surface. Three drops of blood welled up, dark against his pale skin. Elise guided his arm until the drops fell onto the obsidian disk, where they spread in a thin film across the polished surface.
"Continue speaking about the venture," she instructed, placing her fingertips lightly on the disk's edge. "Describe the timber claim and your rights to it."
As Voss spoke, Elise focused her awareness on the blood between her fingers and the obsidian. Bloodsight wasn't mind-reading in the way laypeople often imagined. It couldn't extract specific thoughts or memories. What it could do was detect the subtle changes in blood composition that occurred during deliberate deception—changes imperceptible to normal senses but clear to a trained practitioner.
The trader's voice seemed to fade as her perception shifted, the world narrowing to the connection between her fingertips and his blood. Images formed in her mind—not Voss's memories but her own brain's interpretation of the information carried in his blood. She saw tall trees against a northern sky, felt the weight of responsibility to family, sensed the careful calculations of a merchant evaluating risk against reward.
Most importantly, she detected no dissonance between his words and his blood's response. Whatever Casimir Voss believed about this venture, he was sharing it honestly.
Elise withdrew her fingers from the disk, blinking as her perception returned to normal. The headache had intensified as expected, a steady throbbing behind her eyes, but the information gained was worth the discomfort.
"He believes what he's telling us," she said to Markus. To Voss, she added, "Your blood shows no deception regarding this matter. That doesn't guarantee the venture's success, only your honest presentation of it."
Voss nodded, pressing the cloth she offered against the small cut on his wrist. "Truth is all I can offer. Success depends on many factors."
"Indeed." Elise carefully cleaned the obsidian disk with a special solution that dissolved the blood completely. No trace could remain for potential misuse. "Based on this verification, I'm willing to discuss a preliminary agreement. However, any formal binding will require a separate session when I'm properly rested."
"Acceptable," Voss said. "Perhaps when I return in three weeks' time? The agreement would establish terms for future shipments once the first has proven the route viable."
Markus leaned forward. "You mean you'll proceed with the initial shipment without a binding?"
"With a handshake and your sister's verification of my honesty," Voss confirmed. "In my experience, the first transaction is best kept simple. Complications can be addressed once the basic concept is proven."
It was a surprisingly reasonable approach, one that reduced both parties' initial risk. Elise found herself revising her assessment of the trader upward.
"Then we have an understanding," she said, replacing her tools in their box. "Markus will handle the commercial details. I'll prepare for a more formal binding upon your return, assuming the initial shipment proceeds as described."
As the men rose to continue their discussion in Markus's office, Elise felt a sudden, strange sensation—a brief doubling of her vision as she looked at Voss. For an instant, she seemed to see beyond his current appearance to something deeper: a younger man standing in snow, hands raised toward a night sky filled with shimmering lights. The image vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving her blinking in confusion.
"Are you well, Miss Harwood?" Voss asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Quite well," she lied smoothly, years of professional practice hiding her discomfort. "Simply planning my schedule. Good day, Mr. Voss. I look forward to our future business."
After they departed, Elise remained seated, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The brief vision hadn't been part of the standard verification process. In fact, it resembled nothing she'd experienced in her years of bloodsight work.
She glanced at the obsidian disk, now clean and inert on her desk. Her training had been thorough, her techniques precise. The Guild had strict protocols for bloodsight applications, and she followed them meticulously. Yet something had just occurred outside those protocols—something unexpected and potentially concerning.
Elise opened her journal and made a careful note of the experience, recording the details while they remained fresh. If it happened again, she would have documentation. If it didn't, well, perhaps it was simply fatigue affecting her perception after too many workings in one day.
Outside her window, the sounds of Salthaven's busy port district continued unabated—merchants haggling, carts rumbling over cobblestones, sailors calling to one another as ships were loaded and unloaded. The normal, mundane business of the city provided a reassuring counterpoint to her momentary disorientation.
Whatever had just happened, Elise had responsibilities to meet. The Harwood family's precarious finances wouldn't improve through magical mysteries but through careful business decisions and the strategic application of her skills. If Markus's timber venture succeeded, it could indeed mark a turning point in their fortunes.
And if her bloodsight was developing in unexpected ways... that was a matter to consider carefully, privately, and with appropriate research. The Guild had strict views on unauthorized experimentation, and Elise had worked too hard for her professional standing to risk it through carelessness.
She closed her journal and locked it in her desk drawer. Tomorrow would bring new clients, new verifications, and perhaps new insights. For now, she would focus on managing her headache and preparing for whatever challenges the timber venture might present.
In blood magic, as in business, careful preparation was the foundation of success. And Elise Harwood had never been anything but thoroughly prepared.