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magical artifacts from reaching untrained humans and unsuitable species. Cursed items were common. Most families just locked them up and forgot about them until great uncle or aunt whatever passed away.
    She flicked her vision into seeking the chaotic patterns of cursed objects, and she spotted three near the wrapping table, which meant that they would be going out to a client.
    “Gee, Guy. You must have been a little out of practice. Those objects haven’t made it through quarantine.”
    He blinked, and the stench of sweat began to creep through his clothing. “Really? They have been here for months.”
    “I was here four weeks ago, and those items were not here in the shop. What are you up to, Guy?”
    “Nothing. I swear. The client was very specific in getting those items, untampered with.”
    She wandered over to the candlesticks and lifted two of them, whispering to them and dispersing their magic. The saltcellar was particularly nasty. She discharged the magic with a few small words, and the puff of black hate shot upward.
    When she was done, she wiped off her fingers and took a photo of the collection. “Note for the file. Items have been cleared of noxious influence.”
    The words printed across her screen, and she turned back to the shopkeeper with a bright smile. “Now, on to quarantine.”
    He was blanched and swallowing, but he led her to the rear of the storage area where the chained area told her she was about to go through a busy day.
    “Whose estate was it?”
    “Leonard Doringer. We got it two weeks ago and have been waiting for your arrival. There is a high demand for many of his works and objects.”
    She mentally whistled. “Unlock it and give me the key. I will let you know when I am done.”
    He drew a key with a scarlet ribbon from his pocket and unlocked the cage. She took the key from him when the door of the cage opened, and she stepped inside.
    Sound from the shop ceased, as did the world outside the quarantine area. Getting a space warded with dampening magic was expensive, and Sophy really wasn’t surprised that the Ambermarles were turning to grey-market cursed goods.
    The spell books and enchanted objects were fine. She was specifically looking for items that could embed themselves in a human soul and take hold.
    The flare of acid green got her attention. She took out her phone and snapped a photo before she worked on deciphering the curse on the flute.
    The flute seemed to be a standard luck-draining curse, but the case was another matter.
    “This is new.” She took photos of the case and worked on analyzing the spell that stuck to it.
    “Magnus, run a check on curse-generating objects.”
    “Working.”
    She set the flute back into the case and closed it, keeping the box near her. It was coming with her all cursed up.
    The rest of the collection was shockingly benign. Some fatal serving ware was all that needed her attention.
    She knew that this was only part of the collection, and she kept the flute case under her arm when she left and locked up the quarantine.
    Guy was waiting nervously by the shipping area.
    “Okay, Guy. Show me the books. There were at least seven famous objects in the collection that were suspiciously missing.”
    “I don’t know which those could be?”
    “Show me the books, Guy, or the guild will be here in an hour.”
    He pulled the shipping logs down and laid them out on the table. She flipped through to the last page and found the items in question. Four different collectors, none of whom was human. “Of course.”
    She took photos of the manifest, checked her image and gave Guy a dark look. “Congratulations. You just bought yourself a weekly check.”
    His shoulders slumped. “I thought you were coming tomorrow.”
    She sighed. “I was going to, but I still would have known the objects were missing. I have been to Leonard Doringer’s home with my great aunt. I know what he had and what was entailed to other family. This flute is the only