Chapter 13 Lisa the Wolf Girl

The auction wasn't even finished when Amos left. Amos couldn't care less.

"Handle the payment."

He slid a check across the table, prompting the auction staff to bow at once.

"Of course, honored guest."

A servant hurried away. Another went to retrieve his purchase.

Amos simply stood, the excitement he'd felt earlier had completely vanished. Even the loss of the cube barely bothered him now.

Several minutes later.

The black-haired girl was led into a private reception room. The chains on her wrists stayed in place, as did the suppression collar around her neck. Her empty expression didn’t waver. Nothing about her had changed. She stepped in quietly, stopped, and wait, like someone anticipating instructions, punishment, or perhaps nothing at all.

Amos hated that look. The complete absence of hope.

For several seconds neither spoke.

Amos examined her.

She looked young, maybe fourteen, possibly thirteen. She was thin, with several old scars on her hands. None were severe, nothing illegal, nothing that broke Imperial law that everything technically is acceptable.

The girl stared at the floor.

Amos stared at her.

Then he glanced at the auction employee.

"Remove the chains." The employee blinked.

"Sir?"

"The chains."

"Immediately?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

The employee quickly nodded.

"Right away."

A few moments later, the restraints were taken off, though the suppression collar stayed in place. Amos understood that much. The employee passed him a stack of documents ownership records, transfer papers, legal identification, the usual nonsense. He signed them all without bothering to read most of it. He felt uncomfortable signing paperwork.

Eventually they left through a private exit.

The night air outside was cooler, more peaceful, and far less stifling than the auction hall. Nearby, a luxurious carriage stood waiting.

One arranged through the Kyros family. The coachman immediately bowed.

"Young Master."

Amos pinched the bridge of his nose and climbed into the carriage.

The girl hesitated.

Clearly uncertain where she was supposed to sit. Amos pointed toward the opposite seat.

"Sit."

She followed the command at once, sitting up straight and stiff, like a statue. The carriage rolled forward, carrying them away from the city.

The auction hall slowly faded into the distance. For several minutes, the cabin was wrapped in silence, broken only by the steady sound of wheels rolling along the road.

Amos gazed out the window while the girl stared down at her hands. Neither said a word. After a while, Amos let out a deep, lingering sigh.

He then pulled the old compass from his pocket. The needle spun uselessly, his gaze shifted toward the girl. Then back toward the compass.

One purchase had set him back three thousand gold, the other a thirty thousand just about the cost of ten compasses. The thought made him wince.

The black-haired wolf girl seemed perfectly content to sit there forever without speaking.

"So, do you have a name?"

The girl remained motionless. For a moment Amos wondered if she hadn't heard him.

"...Lisa..."

"Lisa."

She gave a nod, then went back to staring at the floor. Conversation over, apparently. Amos frowned.

"No family name?"

"I don't know."

"How old are you?"

"Don't know."

"Where are you from?"

A longer silence followed.

Her's fingers tightened slightly.

"...I don't know."

Amos frowned again.

"Do you remember your parents?"

"No."

"Your village?"

"No."

"Your hometown?"

"No."

Amos leaned back.

Either this was the worst interrogation in history, or her situation was much stranger than he initially thought.

His eyes quietly studied her. Not great at all. Maybe trauma cause her to forget.

"How were you captured?"

The girl slowly lowered her head further.

"Found."

"Found?"

A small nod.

"Found where?"

"Forest."

That answer raised more questions than it answered.

"What forest?"

"I don't know."

"Who found you?"

"I don't know."

Amos stared.  

Lisa kept her eyes on the floor.  

It seemed the floor was winning the conversation.  

After a moment, Amos let out a.  

"Do you know anything?"

The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

Lisa actually thought about it.

"I can read."

Amos blinked, caught off guard. That was definitely not the answer he had been expecting. Not even close.

"You can read?"

A nod.

"How about write?"

Another nod. Amos straightened up. That was odd. How very odd.

"Who taught you?"

The girl hesitated.

Then slowly shook her head.

"I don't remember."

Again.

That answer was a complete blank. Amos rubbed his forehead. It felt less like talking to a servant and more like talking to someone who’d lost half their life, which was somehow even more troubling.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the old compass, and flipped it open. The familiar broken needle spun lazily as Lisa’s eyes instantly locked onto it.

"You keep looking at this."

He held it up.

"What about it?"

For the first time since entering the carriage Lisa finally looked directly at him though her eyes focused on the compass.

Then she spoke.

"Warm."

Amos froze.

"Warm?"

A small nod.

"Feels warm."

The compass was nothing special. His appraising gaze had confirmed it again and again—no mana, no enchantment, nothing at all. Just an old, worn compass. Yet Lis kept staring at it, almost with curiosity, like a child seeing something familiar. Amos slowly lowered it; his eyes weren't detecting anything.

The girl with no memories had reacted more strongly to a broken compass than she had to being sold and that couldn't possibly be normal.

The old brass compass casing reflected moonlight from the carriage window.

He glanced toward Lisa. She eyed it again, that same strange expression on her face. Without a word, Amos tossed it. The compass sailed through the air, and Lisa’s eyes went wide as her hands shot out on instinct.

CATCH.

The compass landed safely in her palms. She looked genuinely startled.

"..."

"..."

Both stared at each other.

Then Amos pointed.

"Keep it."

Lisa blinked.

Her fingers tightened around the brass compass.

"What?"

"Keep it."

Amos shrugged.

"You clearly like it."

The girl immediately shook her head.

"No."

"No?"

"It is yours."

"I did buy it."

A nod.

"Which makes it mine. That means I can give it away."

The girl froze.

As though this possibility had never occurred to her.

She glanced down at the compass, then back up, then down again, moving with a kind of caution, as if it might vanish at any second. Amos acted as though he hadn’t seen a thing because noticing would make things awkward.

Instead, he reached up and took off the black mask that concealed the upper half of his face—the one he’d worn all through the auction, the one that had kept his identity a secret. Showing her his face for the first time.

A tiny expression appeared on Lisa's face. The closest thing to amusement he'd seen from her.

Then, Lisa touched the compass.

The compass itself wasn't important.

It were the first things Amos had seen her hold tightly all night.

The carriage rolled onward through the darkness.

Returning toward the Kyros Estate.