19
“Shall we begin?” A booming voice carried from the back of the auction hall.
All the chatter in the room faded away. I watched from my place onstage as the man who’d spoken prowled his way to the front of the audience.
I had expected someone in a suit and tie. Or at least a top hat and vest. But the man was wearing faded jeans and a polo shirt. He had jet-black hair and super pasty skin, a mark of one who had dived deeply into magic, but the dingy clothes and potbelly sort of ruined the wizarding vibe.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Wiltzer’s Underground Auction.” The man leapt onto the stage without seeming to try. “It is always a pleasure to have you come to my auction house, and for so many of you to show up for such a last minute affair”―he shot a scathing glare at B.W.―“well
