As usual, the shop was empty.

Viktor didn't really mind, though. An empty shop, down in mirror Allor, meant no trouble. It meant steady business. No Pals sticking their noses where they didn't belong to try and find proof of imaginary transgressions. No thieves trying to leave one or two amulets richer. But the best thing about the empty shop was the silence. Silence meant prime homework time. And even if the chair and counter were horribly uncomfortable, at least Viktor would get a few coins, one or two hours of homework, while only having to talk to one or two clients everyday.

Talking to clients was one thing, actually working was different. Singed's little shop was branded as an antiquary, but most everyone knew that it was more of a conjuring parlour. Selling and buying antiques and slightly magical relics was one thing, and conjuring demons was another, though. Not any of the nice looking ones like in the teahouses, or the brutes in the Siblingries, either. No, just tiny, scrawny things, trapped in lockets and mirrors, more useful as tiny luck charms until their contract was up. And when someone came in asking for one, Viktor knew he had to provide. No matter how much homework he had.

The door opened as he was concentrating on a tricky equation, the little bell just above it tinkling pleasantly. Viktor immediately closed his book, looking up at the newcomer--you--slightly warily. No uniform, he immediately noticed. At least you weren't a Pal. Viktor could definitely do without a trip to the School of Correct Conduct, especially with the restrictions on his scholarship at Gownhall. Or maybe you were a Pal, just out of your usual attire. He tried not to think about that.

"Hey," he greeted after a beat, observing you observe an amulet with old Allorwen sigils carved into it. Viktor had always hated it. Maybe he could pawn it off on you. "Can I help you?"