Chapter 2: Locksmith’s Eye

It’s been hours since Ignatius left to get dinner, and my room is dead quiet. Outside, the sun is completely gone. Only a single, flickering streetlamp gives off enough light to see the yard. Since the Lerwicks are still gone, I take my chance to sneak out and walk around.

A few maids doing chores bow at me without saying a word, practically hugging the walls to get away. Great. Do I have some kind of disease? Everyone in this house seems to hate this kid, or at least they hate me now that I’m stuck in his body.

Floating around the halls are these sparkling golden threads of magic. They’re super cool to look at. Has anyone else noticed how they feel strangely cold and warm at the same time?

I end up in the basement, stepping quietly onto the wet stone floor. It smells like old dust and damp rock. Hidden behind a stack of broken wooden chairs is a heavy metal chest with a thick lock. But the real guard is a glowing string of red fire magic wrapped tightly around it. Touch it, and it will fry you to ashes.

"What do we have here?" I whisper.

In my old life, a lock was just a fun puzzle made of metal pins and springs. Fire magic or not, this wasn’t some scary death trap. It was just another lock waiting to be picked. I sit down on the dirt floor and put my small hand close to the cold metal. I’m not scared of the heat; I just want to figure out how it works.

I activate my skill, Open and Close, and focus on the thought.

Click.

Something shifts in my head like a soft switch. My vision completely changes. Bright golden lines light up the air, and a small glowing keyhole shows up right in front of my eyes.

The scary fire spell becomes super easy to read. I can see six tiny energy points holding the magic together. I push a thin thread of my own light toward the lock, using it like a little hook. I tap the first glowing point with light pressure.

Soft click. The first part unlocks. I move to the next one and give it a small nudge. One by one, the red fire threads fall apart without making a sound. No flames, no alarms. With a heavy click, the metal lock gives way and the lid opens up.

I pull my hand back as the golden keyholes fade from my eyes. My new family thinks huge fire spells are the only way to win in this world. They are totally wrong. Every lock has a weak spot, and now I can see every single one.

"My Lord? Are you down here? Hurry, before the Lerwicks see you!" Ignatius calls out.

"I’ll be right there," I say, keeping my voice calm while standing up.

For a second, my head spins. Why am I seeing all these colors of magic now? Everything I look at seems to have mechanical lock pins inside, just waiting for a key. Then, in an instant, it goes back to normal.

Still a bit shocked, I sneak back to my room. Late that night, when everyone is asleep, I head toward the library in the left wing of the house. On the way, I stop when I see my half-siblings, Sander and Cristine, sneaking into Father’s office.

"A royal invitation! We have to go, brother," Cristine squeals, super excited. "All of us... well, except for the useless one, obviously. I can’t wait to meet the Prince!"

"We should," Sander says. "Let’s talk to Father. He’ll definitely say yes."

Leaving me behind again, huh? I think. They’ll never see me as a real person. I keep walking toward the library. I need answers. I spend the whole night reading to figure out how this new skill works.

By sunrise, I head out to the garden. It turns out my skill is called Locksmith. It makes me really happy because picking locks was my favorite hobby in my past life. But the book doesn’t have many details because Locksmith skills are super rare.

Agatha and my sisters are sitting outside drinking tea.

"Ahem. Why is my little useless Silvester out here?" Agatha says, taking a sip of tea. "I thought we agreed you’d stay in your room."

"I just wanted to play outside," I say, pretending to be sad. I might look weak to them, but I don’t care at all.

"Gross kid," Cristine sneers with a disgusted look. "Know your place. Go away. Shoo."

The old Silvester probably would have run to his room crying. Not me. I look at her and focus, letting a tiny golden magic circle appear in my eye. Giant, messy clumps of red magic are wrapped around Agatha and Cristine like greedy armor.

"I have a question, Mother and Sister," I say nicely. Saying ’Mother’ makes me want to throw up, but I need to buy some time. "Have you guys always been total bitches, or is this new?"

I almost laugh. Their faces are priceless! They just stare at me in complete shock, like they can’t believe those words came out of my mouth.

I use that exact moment to cast my skill. Locksmith Eye, I think. The golden magic reaches out to their red magic, making lock pins appear on every single thread.

"How... how dare you talk to us like that?!" Agatha finally screams, her face turning bright red as she yells at the top of her lungs. She places the back of her hand against her forehead and swoons backward like she is about to pass out from anger.

"Mother! Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Cristine panics, turning around to glare at me with pure hatred. "You dirty little rat! Ignatius! Get over here and lock this kid in his room right now!"

Ignatius comes rushing out from around the corner of the house, hurrying over to grab my arm and guide me back toward the front door. Agatha and Cristine are still screaming like angry birds, making an absolute scene in the middle of the garden.

My Locksmith Eye is still active, showing me all the lock tumblers floating around their heads. I picture a solid iron key in my mind and use my passive Open skill.

Click.

The tumblers inside their red magic shift into place. Then, right before Ignatius and I step inside the house, I decide to deal with their obnoxious yelling. I picture a heavy padlock snapping shut and cast my next skill.

Close.

Instantly, the entire garden drops into complete and total silence.

Agatha and Cristine are still standing there, their mouths wide open, veins popping out on their necks as they try to scream at me at the top of their lungs. But not a single drop of sound comes out of their throats. They look at each other in sheer panic, completely baffled as they stand in the middle of the grass, silently screaming at nothing.

"I really hope you ladies have a wonderful day," I whisper softly under my breath.

I turn on my heel and keep walking back inside with Ignatius, leaving the crazy silent show behind us.