Chapter 1

Making magic compounds for a living sounded much more exciting when I was trapped below on the streets of Indus. The bright orange liquid slopped against the glass as I swirled the vial continuously in a clockwise motion. My other hand kept my head from slumping onto the stained metal surface of my workbench. Despite a weak attempt to resist doing so, my eyes drifted to the hourglass. I could have sworn the sand fell slower, somehow sensing my impatient gaze. Huffing out a sigh I returned to reading the dry reading material in front of me. Again, for the hundredth time. My own precisely etched letters stared back at me. While Solaris Sudor was one of the less complex alchemic recipes, it took a long time to make. A large chunk of which was the time spent doing monotonous things. Like agitating reactants by hand. It was by far, my least favorite alchemic compound to make. I had nearly wept when I’d discovered I lacked enough for the hospital’s monthly order of healing potions. The setback had pushed my estimated delivery date uncomfortably close to the contractual deadline. A faint crackling from the vial jarred me from my stasis. Relieved to be moving, I set the metal book out of the way and pulled the bowl of previously mixed ingredients in front of me. Laying the vial close to horizontal, I carefully watched the thick liquid roll across the glass, beading at the lip of the vial. Aiming for the outer edge, I adjusted the vial a degree and made a drop fall. It plummeted through the heavy air. The orange drop cratered into the bowl below, displacing the pasty white substance before slowly sinking into it. Like a plague, a light brown colour quickly spread out tendrils, contaminating the area around it. Ever so slightly I tilted the vial further. A few more drops fell before the liquid flowed out in a thin stream. The stream hit the bowl and I began to move the bowl with my other hand, creating the start of a spiral. The rust brown colour shot out both sides of the thin line I laid. Its inner edge became my guide as the spiral worked its way tighter toward the inevitable conclusion. A centimeter from the center, the sound of a far off explosion caused me to jerk, sending an extra large splash of liquid hurtling into the mix. Horrified, I held my breath and leaned away from the bowl, bracing for a violent reaction. When smoke rose from the center of the bowl, I leapt off my stool and sprinted to the far side of my sanctuary, vaulting under my table. As I slid under, I heaved on the edge, toppling the table over behind me. Slamming my back against the metal table, I covered my ears and opened my mouth. I was annoyingly aware that I was supplementing the unfortunate stereotype of my profession. I was certainly glad I had absolute privacy at least. I knew I must be quite the sight. My long dark red hair was now only partially contained by the sloppy braid. The escaped locks dangled oddly, snarled in random greasy clumps against my sickly white skin. I could feel the irregular crusty patches dotting my stained work clothes. My lanky limbs were drawn in close as I braced for an explosion. A couple minutes ticked by. My muscles coiled tighter with each passing second as I waited for the anticipated blast. After a few silent minutes had elapsed, I warily got into a crouch. Cautiously I peeked over the top of the table. If it was going to go off, it should have happened by now. Repeating those words to myself like a mantra, I slowly edged my way around the table. Like a dire beast slept on the workbench, I crept toward it, placing each foot slowly in front of the other. A meter from it, I straightened and peered into the bowl. A black spot, approximately the size of my fist, sat accusingly in the center of the now, completely rust coloured substance. Instantly my entire body drained of tension and I collapsed onto my knees. Black was good. The sound of my rushing blood was audible. I could feel my heart thrumming in my chest, seemingly unaware that the threat had passed. Inhaling deeply, I drew in a lungful of the soothingly damp air. After a few more calming breaths I pushed myself up and righted my stool. Seating myself once more I bit my lip as I contemplated the contents of the bowl. I couldn’t afford to scrap the entire bowl. I wouldn’t have the time to begin the long process again. Deciding the outer portion was salvageable, I unfastened the clip on the sheath under my arm and drew one of my knives. Its wide flat, blade was perfect for separating the hardened black center from the rest of the substance. I had the cylindrical core balance on the flat of the blade, a single gloved finger on the top holding it in place, when I realized I had no place to put the lump. Briefly I considered tossing it off the edge but decided against doing so. You never knew when an unstable and highly volatile substance might come in handy. So, balancing the clump on the blade, I dug around in my scrap metal bin until I found a discarded etching sheet. Placing the black lump in the center, I bent up the sides of the thin metal sheet, creating a misshapen enclosure. That done, I set it aside to find a container for later. I poured some aqua vitae on the blade to cleanse it before wiping it off and sheathing it once more. Reseated and eager to be done, I gently shifted the bowl, centering it on the engraved portion of my workbench. I picked up a lump of chalk and, starting at the east most point, ran it around the shallow groove etched into the surface of my workbench. Some people didn’t need a guide to draw a good circle. I wasn’t one of them. Like the snick of a lock shutting in my head, I knew the moment the circle closed. Careful to not bump the bowl, I sketched an amalgamating script around the inner circumference of the circle, intoning the accompanying incantations with every stroke. Laying down the chalk I placed a hand on either side of the circle. Then I closed my eyes. Imagining a spectral hand, I reached inside myself. Visualizing the movement, I touched the small rivulet of magic that ran through me. At my touch, the flow of the magic shifted. In my mind it looked like a reed thin wisp of solid shadow that coiled up my spectral arm. That was the extent of my great gift. Barely enough to light a candle. Being one of the select minority that could touch magic at all, I really shouldn’t complain. Even if my gift had come broken, parts missing. Back when I was at the Academy, studying the art of alchemy, I would have given a limb to even just have an internal reservoir like every other student. Bringing my focus back to the present moment, I did my best to clear my mind. Serene as I could be, I sent the magic streaming into the circle. Focused on the outcome I desired. My intent. My wish and command that the magic might bind the mix before me into a homogenous whole. A sullen glow infused the chalk circle. Starting with the same symbol as I had, the glow spread into the script. Very much like it was reading what I had wrote. The rust colored substance trembled. A high humming came from the bowl. It dropped several octaves and mutated into a steady pulsing beat. Then the beating slowed, akin to a poisoned heart, before finally ending with a deep thump. The rust colour flicked to bright orange in the blink of an eye. The circle went dark and I broke it, rubbing the chalk out with my thumb. Leaning over to retrieve it from the far end of my workbench, I slid the tray of wide mouthed metal jars I had previously prepared adjacent to the bowl. With a steady hand, I set about spooning the Solaris Sudor into them. Clamping down the last lid, I leaned back flexing the sore muscles in my back. Gently swaying side to side to relive the ache, I reached behind and undid my apron ties. With a practiced move I flipped the leather loop over my head and slipped off my stool. Stepping to the nearby beam I hooked the apron on a protruding bolt on the side opposite to where my coat hung. My gloves were next and once they lay on the workbench, I pulled on the light chain that disappeared into my cleavage and freed my pendant watch. A gift from my found family, Raina and those she sheltered, it was by far one of the nicest objects in my possession and of great value. Both monetary and sentimental. Flicking it open with the snap of my wrist I took measure of the hour and did some simple math in my head. Allotting three hours, I could finish half the healing potions. The rest could be whipped up tomorrow. An hour to wash and have a small meal. If I went to bed right after that, I’d get a good six hours of rest before having to get up. Not as much sleep as I’d like but I’d make do. Sometimes it felt as if I’d lived my entire life with an edge of fatigue. I idly thought about scheduling a ‘sleep vacation’ as I put my apron and gloves back on. Unfortunately, I had far too much to accomplish for that to ever happen. Under the soft glow emitted from my niteolux lantern, I fell into a rhythm of work. The Solaris Sudor combined with six other alchemic compounds to create the panacea known colloquially as a healing potion. My eyes were feeling strained by the time I finished the last vial. I bit back a yawn and carefully placed the thirtieth vial of healing potion in my specialized carrier. Slotting it into the last place on the lower rack, I folded down the second layer of racks over it. I left the remaining jars of Solaris Sudor on the workbench. The lazy part of me insisted it would be fine there overnight. I glanced at the bent sheet of metal containing the product of my earlier inattention, then let my gaze slide from it, to the array of dirty tools. A voice, that sounded suspiciously like that of a teacher I once had, nagged me to not leave my equipment dirty. The lazy part of me however, provided the counterpoint that sleep was more important. I wobbled my head in indecision for a few seconds before dismissing the mess with a wave of my hand. It was risky to preform alchemy with a tired mind. I’d be coming back tomorrow anyway. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until then. Slipping off my apron and looping the vial carrier’s heavy strap over my head, I grabbed the niteolux lantern. I started back to my store, idly pondering what had caused the racket earlier.

***

With the various mechanisms settling into silence behind me, I circled around the front of the shop counter. I unslung and placed the vial carrier on top before moving to the front of my shop to make sure that the folding metal shutters that covered the large street level window were secured. Theft was not nearly as bad in Comra when compared to Indus, yet it wasn’t unheard of either. I double checked the locks on my door as well. I tapped the locking lever twice before turning away. I paused and took a moment to enjoy the serene view. My beautiful little shop was painted with the soft white light spilling from the lantern. I’d known William and his wife for about a year when he’d acquired the out of the way Comra building in lieu of a long outstanding debt. Knowing I was at a crossroads, and being a merchant magnate himself, he’d approached me about opening a store of my own. At first my deep seated paranoia regarding generosity kept me from accepting his offer. I snorted rudely, thinking back to the look on his face at my swift and curt refusal. I’d learned early in life to trust the adage of ‘If it seems too good to be true, it usually is’. After a debate, that lasted twelve cups of tea and one rant from his stuck up wife Circe, we had reached an agreement I felt comfortable swearing to. He became a silent partner taking an annually decreasing amount of the store’s profits. He also had me agree to prioritize any orders for him or his businesses. On my side of the contract, I’d gotten a low interest line of credit to help with start up costs and the deed to the building. The final contract hadn’t been a bad deal for either of us. I had gotten the autonomy from my guild that I desperately needed, and William got to secure his hooks in me. Which wasn’t overly bothersome. It wasn’t like I had much choice. Any new business needed time to attract customers and establish clientele. Most alchemists ended up turning to the Guild for a loan while they established themselves. The Overseer of the Alchemist’s Guild had all but spelled out to me that I wasn’t going to be given that option. Thanks to my late mentor I’m sure, the Overseer and I had started off on the wrong foot and have been stepping on each other’s toes ever since. With William’s patronage though, I’d thrived despite the rift between me and my guild. For five years, my little shop had been keeping its head above the turbulent waters. Turning an increasingly decent profit with each year that passed. While William’s advice and network of contacts were a substantial part of my success, I liked to think my own alchemic skill played an important part too. For instance, my potions’ growing repute had played a large part in me getting my current contract with the sector hospital. Which would be in jeopardy if I didn’t get myself to bed. My eyes went to the vial carrier one more time before I headed upstairs for the night.

Chapter 2

Normally I tend to wake myself from the night terrors. Not this time. Something akin to a thunderclap, pealed through my sodden dreamscape of bloody rain. The seemingly physical noise shattered the dream, fracturing it like cheap glass. I was dropped unceremoniously into a dark abyss. It took me a moment to realize that the abyss was my small room. It was dark because the morning light had yet to pierce my shuttered window. I sat up, blearily peering about in the gloom. Still clouded from sleep, my brain struggled to identify what had awakened me. Loud staccato pounding resolved the immediate mystery but also posed another. Who in the bloody depths of the Maw, was beating down my door at this hour? If it was William with another ‘possibly magical artifact’ I was going to kill him. With a groan I shoved off the blankets and minced across my room, minimizing contact with the freezing metal floor. Balanced on the toes of one foot with the other tucked behind my knee for support, I peeked through a gap in the segmented shutters. Spread out on the cantilevered street in front of my store, stood seven serious looking individuals. Armed, armored, and wearing the Mercenary Guild’s familiar uniform, they waited in a loose semi circle around my front door. As the furious knocking came again, my sweeping gaze fell to its source. The breaching light of the new dawn illuminated a long white coat. The heavy garment instantly commandeered every faucet of my consciousness. My body involuntarily began to shudder, and I stumbled back from the window. There had been someone wearing the coat of course, but that was the interchangeable, inconsequential part of a Cleric. They were all monsters underneath. Clamping down quickly on the hatred that shifted inside me, I turned my attention to the more pressing questions. Like why I had an arbiter of justice at my door. A rabid hand puppet of Those Above. Quickly, and more than a little clumsily, I dressed in my travel clothes. It never hurts to be prepared. Pulling my wrist blade from its sheath, I palmed it and strode down the stairs to my door. I shifted my locking lever to the halfway point, shifting the floor and ceiling pins back a decameter, before easing open the door. Almost instinctually, my face went lax. Emotionless. My mouth pulled into a slight smile. Comforting, pleasant and non judgemental. My merchant’s mask. With cheer as false as my smile, I greeted the vile monster. “May your day be sun filled sir, unfortunately I do not open ti—"

"I’m here in an official capacity.” The grim faced Cleric said curtly, cutting me off brusquely. He slid the end of his sacred symbol in through the gap of the door. “Open the door.”

Even having steeled myself, I couldn’t stop from involuntarily recoiling.

Likely mistaking it for hesitation, he leaned forward toward me. The lower half of his face was hidden behind a thick black beard, precisely cut just beneath his jaw. His voice poured out, smooth and powerful, like thick warm sewage to my ears. “That’s an order Alchemist.”

The churning mass of hatred in me wanted to shove my blade in his eye. A suggestion I wasn’t averse to, but this wasn’t the place or time. The harsh teacher time, and Raina who in her own way had been harsher yet, had taught me patience. The Cleric would kill me before the blade reached his icy blue eye. I was quick, but not quicker than the thought it would take him to turn me to ash. Then there was the small issue of the trained killers spread out behind him. Adepts of the Mercenaries Guild at the very least judging by their gear. As much as it pained me, I had to play nice, for now.

“Apologies.” I wracked my mind for some benign reason or cause for the visit, but Clerics didn’t stir themselves over small matters. Nausea sucked on my stomach. My uncertainty played with my mind. Infusing my voice with as much false cheer as I could, I gave him a little bow. “Of course, Cleric, please forgive my slow reactions. I’m still waking up. I’m at your disposal and happy to be of service.” I think some warmth made it into my words. Like maybe a sliver or a spoon full. The laws of Those Above, and thus the city, were clear as a diamond and just as ridged. What a Cleric requested, they got. Or else. This left me without even the façade of a choice. Throwing the lever, I opened the door the rest of the way and headed for the fictitious safety of my counter. The Cleric’s bulky form wasn’t far behind, I heard him give a curt order, then his hobnailed boots were ringing ominously in my wake. We passed by the three shoulder high rows of shelves that ran across almost the full width of my shop. I slid behind my counter, trying not to run. The Cleric stopped in the center of the customer area. His large physique appeared to shrink the space. He certainly wasn’t overweight, just… big. Discretely, I set my blade down under the counter. With a morbid curiosity I wondered what transgression of mine had caught the attention of the Church of Those Above. And if I had any chance of talking my way out of it. Reaching up to the lantern suspended above the counter, I worked the two levers and created some better light. The Cleric’s gaze followed the expanding glow, as it travelled over the columns of small drawers, across the shelves stuffed with jars of various alchemic compounds. It moved up the walls, alighting around the bundles of dry herbs that hung from the ceiling.

With a hint of puzzlement in his voice he asked, “What exactly, is the nature of your business? Your selection seems to be, varied.”

“Primarily I sell potions and alchemical compounds like Burn Balm or Niteolux, Cleric. Besides those, I also sell miscellaneous alchemic supplies and ingredients for use in non-magical recipes. Additionally, I stock some minor charms and other miscellaneous items from other suppliers, but the amount of those I have at any one time varies quite a bit.” I locked my eyes to his. “As I assume the Ortsua Dukedom’s records will confirm, I have all my permits and hold good standing with my guild.” The last bit was embellishment in all but the strictest legal sense. Thankfully though, that was usually the only aspect Clerics cared about.

He made a noncommittal noise, shifting closer to the vial carrier. I twitched when he opened it. He studied the contents for a second before raising the top tray. He picked one up, seemingly at random. “This, concoction,” Holding it up to the synthetic light he swirled the contents, “what purpose does it serve?”

I couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t know or if he was playing dumb. “Sekhmet’s Panacea, more commonly known as a healing potion. It heals most wounds and remedies non-magical diseases. Cleric.” I was a little late adding his honorific and the look he shot me told me he’d noticed. In an attempt to mollify him I added, “It’s effects pale in comparison to the magic you wield, Cleric.”

“Hnmh,” he grunted, sliding it back in its holder, “to be sure, yet they are exceedingly popular with the mundane Citizens. Anything magical is though.” His face wrinkled for a second. A peek behind his own mask? His face quickly smoothed out and the Cleric turned to me. “Your sales are impressive for a practice that hasn’t even seen its first decade.” There was a calculating quality to his gaze that I found unsettling. “Wouldn’t you agree, Alchemist?”

The question held hidden danger, the savage part of me warned. That same aspect of me forced my spine straight. I had the feeling that to act like prey in front of this man would be a mistake of the mortal variety. “I have been fortunate. Those Above have seen fit to bless me in that area Cleric.” I stated, never above a little false praise.

He didn’t react more than to raise his thick jaw slightly. “Blessed in some respects, but not in others. Your information sheet from the Alchemist’s Guild had some unusual notations.” He raised an eyebrow. “Your unique condition must make it difficult to compete with your more, blessed, peers.”

I clenched my hand under the counter, hoping my merchants mask held. “I compensate for my,” It almost hurt to get the next word out, “deficiencies, Cleric.” I impulsively wanted to ask if he had a purpose for being here besides insulting me. I thankfully stopped myself before my acidic tongue made the situation any worse. Instead, I cocked my head and politely asked. “May I, inquire what brought you to my store Cleric?” It was a direct question, yet according to the legal records, I was a Citizen in good standing. That meant despite his position, the Cleric still had rules to follow. There were few legal reasons to interfere with businesses in Comra.

Another touch of emotion marred his mask. I figured it was likely annoyance, yet his voice held no confirmation when he replied. “I have questions pertaining to an investigation. Answer them truthfully and I will be on my way.” I could feel my shoulders tighten. He glanced back at the vial carrier. “Most guild apprenticeships are four years long. This hold true for Alchemists too does it not?”

Tension coiled in my gut. This was one of the topics I really didn’t want to touch. “That’s correct Cleric.” What did he know? How much could he know?

“With Alchemists there’s even a tendency for apprenticeships to drag out a little longer.”

It wasn’t a question, but I still answered. Helpful and polite like. “That’s a growing trend, yes Cleric. It is left to the mentor’s discretion.”

He glided a thick immaculate finger down a row of drawers. “Your apprenticeship, however, was significantly less than the standard four. By a full year in fact.”

Someone had done their homework. The thought of a cleric researching my past was chilling. “Those Above gave me the gift of understanding the art with more ease than most. I thank them daily.” If it hastened his departure, I’d rot his teeth with pious sugar coating. “I learned quickly, worked hard and displayed my proficiency.” Much to my mentor’s ire. “The mentor I studied under awarded my dedication by expediting my graduation.” I made sure my wording made it sound nothing like the transaction it’d actually been .

“That would be Alchemist Associate Krutov correct?”

“Adept, actually Cleric,” I corrected, “he was posthumously awarded the position after his passing.”

“Yes, my mistake, I think I remember that notation now.”

I severely doubted a man like him made such mistakes, but I wasn’t about to call him on it. He was playing some subtle game that I wanted no part of.

“You were technically still his apprentice at the time of his death, were you not?”

I clenched my hidden hand reflexively, then leaned on the counter to cover the flinch. He had to know that wasn’t true. Alchemists were the only Guild that kept more detailed records than the Church itself and he’d already hinted he’d seen them. What was this Gutter filth digging for? “No Cleric, while the formal ceremony had not yet been conducted, Alchemist Krutov had already appeared before the Overseer and the sitting Adept council to approve my accelerated graduation. I was already an Alchemist Artisan at the time of his accident.”

“Accident.” His gaze swung down before rising back to me. “Yes, if memory serves, the records did state he was the victim of his own, mistake.” He made a rude noise. “An explosion of some kind. Not an uncommon death for those in your profession is it?”

Oh yes Cleric sir, you sure do know us alchemists, always blowing ourselves up. Hardy-har, har-har! Keeping my merchant’s mask firmly in place I simply nodded.

“Where were you when he…” A shadow of a smile bent his lips as he raised a fist and snapped his fingers open wide.

I let a hint of a frown mar my mask. That had been a calculated indelicacy on his part. Most would expect some resistance after that gesture. I was only too happy to play the part. I laced my voice with heat. “At the time of his passing I believe I was just getting settled here.” I took a step back and waved my hand indicating the store. Fabricating some apparent remorse, I let it flow over my face for a moment before continuing with a more sedate tone. “My apologies Cleric, I mean no offense, but my mentor’s,” I stressed the word, “death was a sorrowful time for me. Though some time has passed, the memories are still painful ones.”

An emotion I couldn’t name flitted across his face. His tone took a sudden edge. “Indeed Alchemist. Apologies, while I do not want to cause you pain,” lie, lie, lie, “you may have information about Alchemist Krutov that the Church requires.” He took two steps, coming to the edge of the counter. I’m not short, yet he towered over me. Only the counter separated us, and it suddenly didn’t feel wide enough by half. “To get the answers I need I may have to be a little, indelicate.”

It was training that kept me in place. Kept me from slamming my back against the side of the stairs. I did manage to keep eye contact though. A, small, victory. Especially considering the darkness swimming in his eyes. It was to be expected of course. He was a Cleric after all. However, as I turned his words in my head, a new hope glimmered. He’d said ‘about Krutov’. There was a chance this visit had nothing to do with my secrets. At least not directly. I was beginning to wonder if showing false remorse had been the wrong strategy. While a favored member of the Guild, mostly thanks to being a childhood friend of the Overseer, Krutov had held no regard for the Church. Or the laws of Those Above. I couldn’t say the thought of a Cleric investigating Krutov was surprising. The troubling thing was that he was being investigated, after his death. Was this Cleric hunting accomplices? Or was he after Krutov’s research itself? How to play this? I’d thought to play a grieving former apprentice, but perhaps distancing myself would be the better option. An abrupt shift now would be suspicious. A gradual change however… yes, I’d try a gradual shift. Like I was cracking under the Cleric’s ‘majestic radiance’. If that didn’t work, I’d try something else. Whatever it took to get the Cleric out of my shop. Behind my merchant’s mask, in the privacy of my mind, I grinned. I should probably start with an indignant stutter. “In—indelicate? I am a law abiding citizen Cleric. What does the Church need to know?”

His mouth twitched. “How involved were you, with the research Alchemist Krutov was conducting at the time of his, demise?”

I took a calculated pause. “I wasn’t.” A short, unhelpful answer. A seed of fear in my voice. Bait.

His eyes narrowed. “His former apprentice, not three months out of his service at the time of his passing. You’re claiming you had no involvement in his research experiments?”

Pulling my shoulders back I thrust my chin up slightly. Defensively. “Not in any significant way.” Perhaps a bit of babble to highlight the stress. “Throughout most of my apprenticeship I only prepared compounds for Alchemist Krutov. That was almost all I did until I graduated. It was only for the two month period before his accident, that I had taken over filling the potion orders from his clientele. We split the profits.” The perfect statement that just beg him to ask the question…

“Why would he do that?” His frown stayed this time. “While I understand the two of you were close, Alchemists are usually quite possessive of regular clientele.”

I kept up a slightly defensive tone. “The agreement was mutually beneficial. Before, Alchemist Krutov would constantly complain about how little time he had to devote to his own research. With me doing the work he was free to focus on what interested him rather than the mundane.” I always loved when the truth worked in my favor.

“What exactly were Alchemist Krutov’s, interests?”

If I hadn’t been listening for it, I likely would have missed the slight change to his cadence. Finally, we drew near the reason for this visit. The truth was I hadn’t the foggiest. Krutov had rabidly guarded his private studies and had never included me. I said as much, framed of course in the gentlest of terms.

“You never took down his dictation? Etched any notes for him?”

I had to fight not to smile because I knew my answer wasn’t going to help him. “Well yes, I did on a few occasions before his passing.”

His body shifted forward slightly. “What was the general topic of those etchings.” There was subtle eagerness in his voice. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been so keyed to his every twitch. The Cleric was skilled at keeping his emotions, but I was beginning to see the cracks in his mask.

I was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to test him and see if I could break that mask. Wise? Not in the least, but if the situation had been different, I don’t think I could have restrained myself. Another time. For now, I thought of what would make me uninteresting while also drawing attention to how little Krutov trusted me. “Well,” I paused as if in thought, “There was a healing potion for Magnate Restarick’s daughter. He had me add the altered recipe I used to his records beca—”

“No. I’m not interested in that sort of thing.” The Cleric said dismissively. “What etchings did you do that were connected to his research?”

“None. As I said he kept that aspect quite private.” That got me a cathartic little eye twitch from the Cleric.

“So, you shared his main laboratory, yet have no inkling of what the focus of his research was?”

Something about the way he said it put me on guard. Maybe it was some, almost imperceptible, shift in body language that the savage part of me had noticed. Perhaps I was just being paranoid. “None at all.” I said shaking my head. In those final days I’d seen Krutov only once, and very reluctantly, to deliver on my half of our clandestine little ‘transaction’. I certainly hadn’t complained. I danced a happy jig when I realized I’d never have to see his condescending sneer ever again.

He turned slightly away. “As if he was purposely keeping you in the dark, so to say.” Was that a hint of pleasure in his words? “That is most regrettable, I’d hoped he would have shared his work with you out of convenience at the very least.”

Despite the contradicting words, if I was reading his subtle tells right, that was somehow favorable news to him. What had my words told him besides the obvious? Why would my ignorance please him? I ran his words through my head again. Had the sparks of annoyance at my insufficient answers been an act? Or was this shift, the act? Perhaps I needed to readjust my evaluation of him. “We alchemists tend to keep our theories private until we know they have a solid foundation. It’s not uncommon.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. I find it odd however that he would exclude such a keen mind as yours from his work. One would think he’d use your intellect to his advantage. As you said, Those Above granted you a favorable gift.”

Krutov hadn’t ever seen the true extent of my ‘gifts’ until the end of my time with him. I returned his shrug, helplessly.

The Cleric met my eyes once more. Intensely. “Perhaps he kept the work confined to his other lab.”

What? He’d had only one. “There was only the one laboratory.”

“One, according to all legal records. The Church’s records, the Ortsua Dukedom, the Magh’s Guild and the Alchemist’s Guild all document only the one laboratory.” He stared intently at me. “And yet when the new owners of his private residence went to renovate this past month, they found more than dust behind the bookcase in his study.”

My first inane thought was ‘Oh Krutov you naughty boy’. Then very real fear climbed my spine. Resolve and a little shock kept my merchants mask in place. It alone kept my face from twisting in horror. Another laboratory? Why hadn’t I thought of that. No wonder I hadn’t found anything after his death. All his secrets had been in another lab altogether. The Cleric could have found all manner of volatile information in there. I’d naively begun to believe that I was completely uninvolved in this investigation. Fear crept back into me. Even the mention of my name in the wrong context would be a nightmare. If Krutov had kept... I couldn’t even contemplate that right now. Priorities. First this Cleric had to be gone. Then I could panic. I certainly didn’t have to feign my bewilderment. “I-I don’t know what to say. I had no idea. Why would he risk maintaining another laboratory, and an illegal one at that?”

The Cleric gave me a hard look. “That’s a very good question Alchemist Vaeronica.”

The impulse to fight or flee seized me, but I could do neither. “My apologies Cleric, you came for answers, but it seems you know more than I.”

Silence filled the air between us. It almost seemed as if he were trying to peer inside my mind by force of will alone. An impossibility, right up until he decided to use his magic. From experience I knew that with the power of Those Above, the deific Nahtur, there was very few things a Cleric couldn’t do. He spoke first. “Pity. Perhaps the contents of this hidden laboratory will shine more light on the matter.”

A part of me wanted to ask more, yet I was at this point focused on getting him out of my shop. “One can only hope.” I agreed benignly.

“Very well,” he patted the counter and turn to the door, “if you remember anything else of importance please contact the Church and request an appointment with me. As this is an active investigation into such a, prestigious,” he nearly choked on the word, “member of the Alchemists Guild, we wouldn’t want any, unrefined, information being passed around.” He looked at the door. “No need to besmirch the dead if this is all harmless.”

I was hard pressed not to scoff. If there’d been nothing of note in the hidden laboratory, the high and mighty church wouldn’t have sent a monster to my door. What I did say was, “Of course Cleric.”

He nodded before once more fixing me with a hard look. “And if I have any more questions for you. I will expect to find you here.”

“Of course, and I’m always pleased to be of service,” I replied, remembering at the last moment to tack on, “Cleric.” There was a heartbeat of hesitation. He didn’t comment on it though. I received a stiff nod and he turned to leave. My eyes unconsciously dropped to the center of his back. Fixed on the intricate symbol embroidered there in gold thread. The symbol that was on every cleric’s coat. The symbol that they had burned into my skin once upon a time. Fresh new fear met old, ingrained terrors. The once ruined flesh between my shoulder blades twitched. As if sensing my rush of nightmarish memories, the Cleric halted. He hovered in front of the door. No. Just leave already, I mentally screamed at him.

He called back into the shop was he left. “Fare well Alchemist Vaeronica.”

I didn’t have the talent to sense such a thing, but somehow, I knew this wasn’t the last I’d see of him. The palms of my hands broke as my nails speared into them. The door clanged shut and my merchant’s mask broke, my false smile shattering. I stopped restraining my muscles and let them shake. Moving unsteadily around the counter I crossed to the door. My thoughts grew darker with each step. What loose threads waited in Krutov’s secret lair? How much did the Cleric really know, what did he suspect? Just how close to the edge was I living?

Chapter 3

Moodily slamming the locking lever, I pinched the bridge of my nose and mentally reviewed the potential level of danger. If I had to summarise it with a word, I’d choose, disastrous. The thrice cursed Cleric could be my ruin if he stumbled on the right, or wrong, piece of information. I briefly entertained the paranoid thought that he already had. Or perhaps there was no lab, and this was all a trap. I quickly dismissed the notion. The Cleric would have just arrested me. Could someone be pulling his strings? I began to pace. Sure, there were people who wouldn’t mind shutting my store down, my own guild included, but they didn’t have the pull to get a Cleric involved. So the Church had to be helming things. So what had they found that dictated their involvement? A series of worst case scenarios flashed through my mind. My movement became more agitated. The problem wasn’t that I couldn’t think of a reason, it was the fact that there were too many potential possibilities. My own illegal lab, my transaction with Krutov, healing a heretic, and the list just kept going from there. I let out a frustrated sigh. Information was what I needed. The most precious of commodities. I forced myself to stop pacing. I needed to work through this problem logically. I clapped my hands and let a breath out. Step one, gather information. I would start with the least costly sources. That meant investigating Krutov’s place here in Comra first. The Cleric likely had someone watching Krutov’s former home, but I might be able to slip in unnoticed. While time might be playing a factor, I didn’t want to overreact. No sense wasting resources on a worst case scenario that might be far from reality. The stairs flashed under my feet as I leapt up them three at a time. I slide my knife sheathes from their hooks above my pillow and strapped them on with instinctual movements. In my mind I was already planning for the dangerous trip down into Indus. If I didn’t learn anything from scouting Krutov’s, I knew of someone else who’d worked with him. Someone who, perhaps more importantly, shared my intense dislike for the late alchemist. Krutov had forced him down into Indus after all. I didn’t know exactly where he was in Indus, but I knew the man that might. The heavy weight of my coat settled on my arm as I flicked it off the hook and knelt beside my bed. If my first source didn’t pan out, I could head east, toward the Maw. To visit a ‘merchant’ who delt in information, among other things. All for a price. I hadn’t seen him in years, but he wouldn’t have moved his ‘nest’. Reaching under my lumpy mattress, I let my fingers find the slit and worked out the bulging purse of coin I’d hidden there. I’d been saving up for close to five years, creating a small fund separate from my shop’s. Coin to make my magnum opus a reality. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to use it today, but if the need arose, I didn’t want to have to make a return trip. With it I could buy information from the Magpie, or if he had none to sell, then the illicit ingredient’s he stocked. Securing access to the rare and illegal ingredients my magnum opus required had been the original reason I’d made contact with such a dangerous person. It almost seemed like fate that the fringe benefit of my ultimate project might help me sort through the mess I’d become entangled in. Well, assuming my theories held up, that is. My shop key was on a long chain that I threw over my head. Ripping open it’s drawer, I retrieved my merchant’s pass. I slid it into one of the many secure pockets sewn inside my coat. Skipping quickly back down the stairs I danced about my shop grabbing the rest of the supplies I thought I might need. Unlocking the potion cabinet, I retrieved a few vials off the rack. Healing, strength and speed, should I risk taking anything else? Each one was expensive, but also worth far less than my life. I thought of the possibility that I might be visiting Hennso. Should I take something special to barter with? I moved to the other end of the counter. Kneeling, my hand hovered before the vaults built into it. I had two new creations of my own invention. The question was which of them would the Magpie value more? With a shrug I unlocked the left vault. Gears clicked and whorled, my fingers flying over the lock dials as I aligned them to the correct pattern. Many newer safe manufactures had switched to a slotted key system, but since upgrading from a standard key lock, I had yet to find a system harder to crack than a triple dial combination setup. A punch card could be lost or stolen easily. Ostensibly, I kept my most expensive potions in these vaults, but it also held a few that I’d get a slap on the wrist for selling if caught. I grabbed the vial I’d had in mind. It was a unique recipe, dangerous too. Hennso the Magpie had a weakness for uniquely dangerous things. The vial, along with the others I’d retrieved, went into the narrow pockets Raina had added to my coat’s inner lining. Easily retrievable but out of sight. A measured tap of my hand closed the door to the safe. I flicked the dials into a random pattern, listening to the internal gears as they began to move. My attention didn’t turn from the safe until I heard it lock with a satisfying “thunk”. With a lot of superfluous finger pointing, I made sure the shop was in order before heading for the door. The morning light was slowly eating up the street when I stepped outside. The rays glinted off the city’s sprawling expanse of metal sinew and stone bones. Locking the door behind me, I tried it once to assure myself that it was secure before slipping the key’s chain back over my head. Its comforting weight settled next to my pendant watch, between my breasts. I shrugged on my heavy knee length fish leather coat, settling its weight with a few additional shrugs. Comfortable, and as prepared as I could be, I stalked into the street to do battle with the morning traffic.

***

Joining the thick flow of people headed toward the core I kept to the street’s safety rail. It wasn’t the worst morning for a walk I decided, slipping past a slow woman. Thanks in part to the ever present smog rising from Indus, the air was warm, and the foot traffic was moving at a nice pace. Curls of smoke danced across the street periodically, highlighting the shifting patterns of the sea breeze. Comra roads were all technically bridges. Wrapping around and between the stone support pillars, that rose like titanic trees from far below. They were what held aloft Comra and Noblesse, the two raised levels of the city. At the intersection I turned onto the bridge street, then off onto the pedestrian-only suspension walkway that departed it halfway down. I was almost at the branch when the press of people slowed to a halt. Up ahead but out of sight, loud voices raised in a heated argument. Leaning out over the safety rail a little way, I tried to see what the hold up was. Craning my neck, I caught a glimpse of waving arms before someone further up got the same idea as me and blocked my view. With a sigh I gave up and absently dropped my gaze to Indus, far below. Through the thin veil of smoke and soot, the sprawl of stone block buildings was only interrupted by the massive trunks of the city support pillars. Gripping the cold metal of the safety rail, I peered back at the pillar my shop hung from. My eyes traced up it, through the support web and to the underside of Noblesse. For me, it wasn’t the height of the columns that boggled the mind, it was the size of the stone blocks they were comprised of. Each one was twenty meters tall and about twice that in length. Only Those Above where supposed to know their width but I’d discovered that it matched their height. Something I’d never share. A light shove on my hip broke me from my ruminations. I glanced back with an annoyed expression. The dwarf nodded her head forward with an impatient expression and I turned to find the foot traffic moving again. With a slightly apologetic word, I hurried forward. Taking the left branch at the three way intersection I followed it to the bridging street at its end. In a large gaggle of people that included the woman who’d followed me off the walkway, we waited for a break in the stream of autocarts before hurrying across. Slipping through the knot of people on the other side, I followed the bridge road west to the connecting ring road. As my path took me around the towering pillar at its center, the underside of Noblesse far above terminated. The sky slid into view beyond. The westward edge of level above, here on Comra it also delineated between the areas commonly know as the inner and outer ring. None of the support columns in the outer ring of Comra rose above the level’s floor. Houses, usually fancy ones, were bigger here as the could be built across the tops of the supporting pillars. Some of the nicest ones even used the extra space and sunlight for small gardens. I angled my path to the southwest. Bridge to ring, ring to pedestrian walkway and back to a bridge road. I varied the pattern until I neared my destination. The dormant malice I lived with stirred at the fragments of memories that began to arise. The only time I’d visited Krutov at home had been to deliver on my end of our ‘deal’ after he’d pushed through my graduation. The mere thought of that odious leer he’d given me at that final meeting made my skin crawl. If Krutov were still alive I never would have set up shop in the same sector. I would have gladly returned to living in Indus down below, despite the darkness and grime. As long as I was living far from my former mentor, I could tolerate the many drawbacks to living down there. I stepped onto the ring road that led to Krutov’s former residence. Simply coming back here, despite knowing he’d been reduced to ashes, unsettled me. To say he’d made a lasting impact on me was an understatement. Three years of petty criticism and near constant complaints. I wasn’t the only one with unpleasant memories of him either. His verbal and sometimes physical abuse of apprentices had been going on for years before I arrived. The well maintained ring road wrapped around large three story mansions. It said a lot about Krutov’s wealth that he’d had a home separate from his lab, let alone one as nice as these. Large glass windows were set in polished, alchemically refined, aluminum walls. There were a few with copper or bronze ornamentations. Inlays beautifully worked into the whorls and dots that seem to have been popular half a century ago. Young children were playing tag on one of the many overhanging balconies. Vines curled over their railings and dangled long enough that the ends periodically caught in my hair. Distracted by the buildings I was next door to Krutov’s former home before I noticed the change in the traffics flow. Autocarts took turns with the pedestrians, both of which were pushed to the outer edge of the ring road by a large half circle of mercenaries. There was a disheartening number of them. An ugly roil of disappointment moved in me and my heart beat faster. It wasn’t just that my hopes of sneaking in had just vanished. It was that their armor marked them as adepts of the Mercenary Guild. The most expensive kind. Usually they didn’t stray from Noblesse, the highest tier of the city apart from the palace itself. Even the Merchants Council only had a handful on their payroll. Whether or not these were the same ones that the Cleric had brought with him this morning, I couldn’t tell. I made a conscious effort to keep my pace unchanged as I passed. It stretched my nerves to wait while an autocart squeezed between the safety rail and the mercs. I used the crowds to hide myself and breathed a sigh of relief when I disappeared from the mercs sight. Maneuvering to the inner side of the street, I dodged out of the way of some slaves carrying furniture into one of the residences. Well, the trip wasn’t a total loss. I’d confirmed that the Cleric had found something in Krutov’s secret lab. Something worth bringing in not just a Cleric but a full company, or more, of mercenary adepts too. I had to stretch my imagination to believe this investigation had nothing to do with me, or what I’d traded Krutov for my autonomy. I rubbed my temple. With some luck the man who’d been apprenticed to Krutov before me might know more. If I could find where he’d fallen to. Luckily, I knew who to ask.

Chapter 4

Dodging autocarts and navigating the turbulent pedestrian flow, I made my way north. If anyone knew where to find Valetin, the last apprentice Krutov had forced to quit, it was an old alchemy teacher of mine. One of the few who I’d actually respected during my time at the Kleo Academy. I hoped to find him still teaching at the Academy which was in the neighboring sector. Even if he wasn’t though, someone at the Academy could at least point me in the right direction. It took me close to half an hour from when I’d left Krutov’s to reach the border between sectors. My merchants pass got me across without question or toll. The dukedom’s of Ortsua and Anorist, who governed over these sectors, had long been friendly with one another. Because of this, the connecting bridge roads between the two sectors had little more than a booth at either end. The visual style of the buildings did change, however. Their walls became more cylindrical and the roofs went from flat slopes to rounded domes. Due in part to the large amount of freedom with which the upper echelon of noble families were allowed to govern their sectors, each of the eight sectors was almost a microculture unto itself. From the border it took me another twenty minutes to navigate my way to the Academy. For synergistic convenience, several guilds, including the Alchemist’s, used the massive Academy building as their head quarters. It made a certain sense. For instance, both the Alchemist’s Guild and the Scribe’s Guild taught their novices mathematics. Teaching students of different guilds together not only saved coin, but also fostered professional relationships and broke down some of the inherent rifts between the guilds themselves. With each bridge road that brought me closer, the garb of those around me shifted until I was almost the only person not wearing a student’s robe. Horrible things, I’d sometimes wondered if they were purposefully uncomfortable or if they’d just been designed by the cheapest tailor in Indus. I’d been overjoyed when my years of wearing one came to an end. The Academy came into sight when I was still some distance away. Perched between and on top of four support pillars, the structure tapered inwards with each floor. The Kleo Academy rose to a single point roughly two hundred meters above the surface of the Comra tier. It descended all the way to Indus too. Clinging between the columns at least as far as to touch the ground below. Overall, the building was at minimum seven hundred meters tall. That was excluding any of the levels rumored to exist underground. I circled to the main northwest entrance. Far busier than the exclusive Alchemist’s entrance on the opposite side, it took most of the morning to gain entrance. It was well worth the cost of extra time though. I was persona non grata with our council, and our Overseer in particular. If I went in through there who knows what tricks they’d try and pull. My bad luck that the one friend Krutov had, was also the leader of our Guild. With a rough map of the main Comra level of the Academy in my mind, I navigated the many interconnecting hallways and stairwells. At last, I came to the large arched door that delineated the border of the Academy proper and the Alchemist’s Guild. On the other side there would be a guard, who probably had received instructions to hamper me in anyway possible. While there legally was a limit to what mischief they could make, I didn’t have the patience to deal with it today. Thankfully there were ‘alternatives’. Following the hall to the left of the door, my boots clicked across the metal floors as I counted off six smaller closed doors. At the seventh I moved forward and knocked loudly. The lack of reply was a good sign. I tested the handle to find it unlocked. I grinned with delight, it seemed that the old unspoken agreement was still honored. Slipping inside I shut the door behind me and quickly moved to the far corner of the little meeting room. Four panels from the corner and… there! I felt the panel seem depress at my touch. It swung out to reveal a tight doorway. And a startled young man. We both paused before sharing a conspiratorial grin. Without a word I stepped back to let him by. Smiling, he set a finger aside his nose and gave me a nod. The silliness of it drew the ends of my mouth up. Slipping into the darkness I was pleasantly surprised when he gently shut the way behind me. Always nice to find courtesy amongst the undercurrents. The tight hall like gap was tall yet didn’t run far. On the far side another panel opened into a supply closet. Once I exited that, I was in the outermost hallway of the Alchemist’s Guild. Yippie. I couldn’t say that I had fond memories of learning alchemy here. I hadn’t hated every moment of it, but thanks to my peculiar quirks I’d had to constantly prove myself. To faculty and students alike. At least, by the time I moved on to my apprenticeship, I’d proven to them that a person didn’t need an internal magical reservoir to do alchemy. Moving with purpose, I avoided the heavily trafficked areas while winding my way down to the training laboratory floor. It was impossible to avoid encountering anyone but the majority of people I passed were students or faculty members so deep in thought a dire beast could have passed without notice. It was a relief when I finally reached my destination though. I had enough work already without having to deal with Guild politics. I hauled open the heavy sliding door and stepped inside. Alchemist Associate Steorra moved deftly for a man whose girth matched his height. He drifted between the tables as his visibly stressed students furiously went about their lesson. I could see his lips moving but the large alchemist spoke softly enough that his words didn’t carry. Half forgotten scraps of memories drifted in my mind as I descended the familiar stairs down to the lab’s sunken floor. My mind provided snippets of a smooth cultured voice, that Steorra never raised. Not even when he was seriously questioning your heritage and wondering out loud if animals had been involved. His rage had been a cold thing, capable of humbling even the Magnate’s daughter in my class. The rank odours of alchemic failure hit me as I stepped onto the lab floor. From the stench I knew one or more of these pupils would be getting a poor grade. And an up close look at Steorra’s disdainful grimace. While I’d rarely gotten a recorded potion recipe wrong, my innate curiosity and let’s be honest, ego, had led me to experimenting occasionally. Perhaps more than occasionally. Helpful tip, for anyone, altering recipes of any kind should be done cautiously. Certainly not on an angry whim and definitely not because you think it will humiliate the mouthy fool next to you. I blocked the scents from my mind, moving quietly up the side of the cavernous room. On my left, and along the opposite wall on the far side of the lab, stood supply racks, near groaning under the weight of alchemic tools and ingredients. While likely the cheapest the Guild could find, the sheer bulk quantity of supplies was enviable. My eye caught a faded black mark on the top of one of the racks. I grinned and looked away. My handiwork. For which I had been banned from the lab for a week. With a rueful shake of my head, I came to rest in the lab’s corner where Steorra’s desk sat. Visually locating the large instructor again, I found him already studying me. Surprise and something else flashed across his face. This was closely followed by a scowl. Cringing a little, I took a seat in one of the chairs beside his private workspace. The fizzler corner as students had called it. During my own time learning under Steorra, if your potion didn’t function properly, this was where you went. And stayed. At least until Steorra had given you a piece of his mind. My flaming bird, while not exactly a failure, had landed me in this corner. I’d also been sent here again, after the orange cloud incident. The longest time I’d been relegated to this corner though, hadn’t exactly been due to any fault of my own. Since it had been my corpse flower however, I’d gotten blamed along with the actual moron’s who’d thought they could produce Takwin, otherwise known as artificial life. The corner had been crowded for several days after that muck up. With an embarrassed sigh, I checked my watch and settled in to wait for the class to end.

***

On the hour, a chime rang across the room. It jolted me from the slight doze I’d slipped into. Magic in nature, I knew the sound would be heard throughout the building, in every room and at the same volume. Classy, but I was sure the Academy paid an arm and a leg to get a magh to do such mundane work. Heavy steps drew close. I rose to face Artisan Steorra, involuntarily grinning when he proffered a friendly hand despite the scowl on his face.

“Artisan Vaeronica. I don’t suppose you’re here to scrub the equipment?”

I glanced at the fouled lab stations and suppressed a shudder. “Shouldn’t your students be learning to clean what they use?” Grumbling I added. “I had to.”

He smiled at that. “The sensible days are behind us I’m afraid. The council determined that students could learn more if they left the mess to the cleaners.”

As if on cue, two tired looking youths in coveralls entered. They gave us a perfunctory wave before setting about their work. There was not a scrap of envy in me. I hated cleaning my own tools, let alone those of nineteen others. “Lucky students. Poor cleaners.” I paused, suddenly unsure of how to broach the topic for my visit. “I actually came by, looking for a bit of information that I hope you can provide.”

Steorra gestured to the seat I’d risen from, rounding his desk to sit in his own. “On a recipe or general principal? Or is it regarding one of your ‘theories’.”

I bit back an automatic retort on the nearly palpable scorn he’d put on the last word. Granted, many of the ideas I’d shared in the past had been, imaginative, but they’d all been grounded in solid principals. I’d even proven the validity of one of them. Turned a mere thought into a functioning shard of reality. Not that I could say that out loud. To Steorra or anyone else. Only out of desperation had I shared it once. Suppressing my flash of frustration, I looked my former teacher in the eye. “None of the above actually. I’ve run into a bit of trouble and was hoping you could help me find another former student of yours.”

His brow furrowed. “A student? I’m not sure what help I can be. I have so many passing through my classes its hard to remember a face once they move on.” He grinned and let out a low chuckle. “Unless they’re an egotistic, troublemaker,” he pointed at me, “or the complete oppose—” He cut himself off and the scowl returned in full force with a vengeance. “Which, student Vaeronica?” Steorra demanded, rudely dropping the honorific from my name.

He already knew what I was going to say, but I said it anyways. “I’m looking for Citizen Valentin.”

He stood with enough force to send the chair tumbling over. “Get. Out.” The words were so cold I was surprised ice didn’t form in their wake.

I jumped up, casting a quick glance at the cleaners who were not noticing so hard it was a wonder they didn’t start whistling. I threw my hands up palms out in a placating motion. I’d known Valetin would be a touchy subject for Steorra. Still, I needed to know where Valentin was. “I didn’t come to splash gutter slop, what happened, happened and I personally see nothing wrong with it.” I took a chance and rushed on. “Also, I knew about it while it was still a thing and kept quiet. The only reason I came is, that you are the only person I know who might know where I can find him.” I planted my hands on his desk and leaned in close. “He’s the only other apprentice of Alchemist Krutov’s still alive.” I leaned back and watched while Steorra’s face hosted a party of emotions. I held my breath.

After a minute his face settled. Smoothly he turned and righted his chair. Settling his weight back into it he huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aiera Sector. Down in Indus. The inner most ring. Last I heard he set up a clinic there.” He never looked up as he spoke the words. A hint of regret tinged them. “I don’t have an address. You’ll have to find that yourself.

If it’d been any other area of Indus, I would have given up. The Indus part of Aiera’s sector however, was a special case. “Thank you, Artisan Steorra.” I don’t know if he saw my apologetic bow or not. He only made a shooing motion and set about shuffling the papers on his desk. I left the lab with an ugly feeling that had nothing to do with the troubles ahead.

***

The skytrain station was a modest affair of stone beams and metal decking, that jutted from the one of the city’s massive support pillars. I stepped in line for a ticket behind a fine dressed flerae man with vibrant blue hair and queued patiently. After getting my ticket from the grumpy dwarf stuffed into the small attendant booth near the platform’s edge, I only had to wait a few minutes before the suspended rails began to vibrate. The skytrain car slowly groaned to a halt in front of me. A billow of steam issued from the far side as I made my way to the side of the door to make way for disembarking passengers. The narrow folding doors screeched open. Hating that noise, I flinched reflexively. When no one came out the flerae ducked inside the car and I followed. The mid morning rush of people packed the small car to capacity, but I was fortunate enough to squeeze in before the whistle blew. The woman behind me got the short muddy end of the stick and was stuck on the platform. There was a series of lurches as the skytrain built momentum, pulling away from the platform. My attention drifted as I stood in the humidity of tightly packed bodies. I’d thought these things to be works of magic when I’d first encountered one. Metal boxes hung from fragile looking rails that appear to move with a will all of their own. Being allowed to enter one had seemed like a prestigious privilege. Over time the experience had degraded into little more than a necessary evil. I shook my head in amusement, absentmindedly watching the metal support struts pass by. The magical inevitably became mundane if one encountered it regularly. It didn’t matter if genuine magic was involved or not. Of course, the complete opposite was true too. As far as I knew I’d only once seen a wood fire in my life. My patron William had splurged, after a large sale of his autocarts, one Winter’s Depth a few years ago. I think I only received an invitation out of politeness but, much to his wife’s horror, had accepted. It hadn’t been much different from an oil or gas flame and had ended startlingly quick, chewing through a fortune of wood. Certainly, no real magic to it. Yet somewhere between the crisp sounds it had created and the thick scent, it had taken on a magical quality. I idly wondered if I could ever afford to have wood fires so often, they became mundane. Mirth filled me, and I couldn’t suppress a laugh at the vision, garnering some odd looks from my fellow passengers. I forced my lips closed but was still smiling minutes later when I disembarked the skytrain. Making my way north through the Aiera Dukedom’s sector, I arrived at the sector’s interlevel stairs late midday. One of two that climbed up from Indus below, the stairs continued upward as well, terminating in Noblesse far above. The mammoth staircase became visible when I was still a good ten minutes away. Spilling from the sector’s Comra landing was a large open platform. Ten times the size of my store, the area was divided up by destination. To the far left was a line for people going up the sector’s interlevel lift, with a wider area for cargo going the same direction. It was mirrored by two more areas for those descending. Then to the right of that was a constant stream of people coming from and going to the stairs. The lift, a magnificent contraption, ground away inexhaustibly and I looked at the cycling platforms longingly. One day I’d be wealthy enough to take the lift instead of enduring the grueling workout the stairs entailed. Navigating across the sea of people that populated the wide space, I joined the flow of bodies branching off to the left. Passing under the large ornate clock at the mouth of the stair landing, I headed down the giant staircase. Descending from delusion to desperation.

Chapter 5

I whistled to myself as I wandered the tight Indus streets, sneaking glances up at the underside of Comra, while dodging between the other pedestrians. The expansive web of augmented steel beams and cables were barely visible here in the inner most ring of the city. What few slivers of sunlight made it through, were smothered by the rising smog. This sector, like its mirror to the north, were even darker than most. Every drop of sunlight being greedily swallowed by the colossal vertical farms, that stretched out from the rim of Noblesse. They extended all the way to the edge of the Gutter, a large sewage trench that encircled the city at the base of the outer wall. Even as late in the morning as it was, only the glow of niteolux lit the street I was on. Yet despite the shifting shadows, it was one of the most civilized sectors in the city. Beings who are born in the sun’s sight usually equate the dark with nightmares of the evil, malicious, and vile, nature. So why, one would wonder, was the darkest sector also one of the cleanest, physically, and socially? The people in charge. The Ash Family. Legally the sector was domain of the Aiera Dukedom. The reality though was that the law of Those Above held little sway here. A Cleric could bring their authority here of course, but it left with them too. The true and lasting rules here, were those laid down by Gentleman Jack Ash. Stricter in some ways than the Law of Those Above, laxer in others. Raina and I had often debated whose way gave more justice, with no conclusive verdict. The prosperity and social cohesion though, proved the Ashen Law’s validity as a system if nothing else. It was in fact, the dominate reason why Raina and I had chosen to settle in the great Undercity. A quasi-secret village built in tunnels which sprawled beneath the flagstones I strode over now. As our adopted family had grown in size, she’d established a bakery business down there too. I debated stopping in to see her and my stomach growled greedily at the mere thought. Her bakery had gained a certain renown in this area, for good reason. As much as I wanted to see her though, I had to keep my priorities in mind. There would be time for frivolities after I made sure that nosy Cleric wasn’t a threat anymore. Though my mind was set, I could have sworn my stomach made a sound that was almost petulant. Couldn’t really blame it. Sending such thoughts back to the corners of my mind, I focused on finding Valetin’s Clinic. An endeavor made easier by the Ash Family’s influence. People were much more open to talking to strangers here. A sharp contrast to other parts of Indus. After asking a few loiters, a kindly stall merchant took pity on me. She drew a crude map on my palm with a stick of carbon. Squinting at the increasingly smeared directions, they were still clear enough that I had to backtrack only once. The labyrinthian streets abruptly ended, niteolux giving way to weak sunlight and the looming farms. On the border, across the street from the walls of greenery, among the edge of the grimy stone buildings, sat my destination. The old stone brick building was only two stories high, which made it stand out from its taller neighbors. I would bet my unusually hefty purse the place was a forge or smithy at some point in its past. I’d just sighed a breath of relief at finding the place when a flash of purple caught my eye. My footsteps slowed. A knot of “Gentry” stood outside the door to the building. Dressed in the Ash Family’s colors, with bright silk bands around their tall hats, the group stood out like a sore thumb. I paused and drew to one side, so I didn’t noticeably disrupt the stream of people. The Gentry could be just relaxing there. They might also be waiting on a member being tended inside. Or Valetin might be paying them for protection. Gentleman Jack ruled this dark corner of the city like a great king of old. Those chosen to be directly in his employ were akin to his court. The Gentry were his soldiers or knights. Perhaps not as well trained, or paid, as guild mercs but a hundred times more loyal. They’d report anything unusual back to the Ash Family. I really didn’t want to be in one of those reports. Gentleman Jack was the last person I wanted to add to the mess I was in. On the other hand, I might just be over thinking the whole thing too. Even if Valetin was paying for protection, there was no reason for the Ash Family to care if I asked him a few questions. I mentally shrugged. The Gentry’s presence didn’t change my objective. Valetin could be the only one who knew what Krutov had been doing in his secret lab. However, the subject was sure to be a sensitive one. By the time I came to apprentice under him, Krutov had become somewhat infamous for his unethical treatment of apprentices. Working them hard, teaching as little as possible and denying them graduation until they quit. If students had any choice in the matter, I’m sure he would have never gotten even a second apprentice. Let alone twelve. Once an apprentice quit, they were forever banned from the Alchemists Guild. While I could see the reason behind such a rule, exceptions should have at least been considered. Like for instance if your mentor turned out to be fundamentally malicious, Maw born Gutter filth. Some of the burnouts found other professions. Others, like Valetin, found employment in less reputable places or organizations. Where people didn’t mind their lack of legality. Valetin and I had only ever met in passing at the academy. He’d left Krutov a month before I was assigned and probably didn’t even remember me. Yet I felt like I knew him well. Through his etchings in Krutov’s books, observations and alterations, I’d caught a glimpse into his mind. At times, it had almost seemed like I was talking to him, through the traces he’d left behind. I could only hope some lingering anger toward our former mentor, and pity toward me, might sway him to help me now. Pulling myself out of the pedestrian flow, I moved toward the smaller doorway set to the right of the large double doors. I was reaching for the door when a body interceded itself. This caused my hand to rub up the front of a beautifully tailored black coat with striking purple highlights. I had a moment to admire the way his dark skin so perfectly complemented his clothes before instinct set in and I stepped backward. The savage part of me was late in sensing the body behind me. My back met a very female front and I jerked to the side. With my back plastered to the stone block wall, my eyes darted between the Gentry. Who now surrounded me.

“You’re far from home girlie.” Sang the woman on my left.

The one on my right chimed in. “And you’re not looking hurt or ill enough to need help here.”

The thickly built Gentry in front of me leaned down until we were eye level. “Who be you, to be knocking on this door then?”

I thought the phrase ‘who are you’ might have served just as well but I kept that to myself. I eyed the group of them. Less to show confidence and more because I didn’t know who to address. I decided on the Gentry who’d blocked the door. Seeing no harm in saying something adjacent to the truth, I smiled up at him. “I’m a professional colleague of Alchemist Valetin’s, I have some technical questions I was hoping he could answer.” When in doubt lie lightly and season your words heavily with the truth.

“Acquainted Colleague?” The woman grinned at the others. “You lot need a dictionary for those big words?”

“Drink the Gutter, Daph,” The thicker one said making the accompanying gesture, “you’re not the only one that can read.” He turned to me, his gaze steady. “Yet all fun aside, you’ll find no practicing alchemist’s here. Are you with the Alchemists Guild?”

Yes or no? Would half the truth do? I knew my answer would sway their decision of whether or not I could enter, and I needed to know what Valetin knew of Krutov’s secrets, yet a lie might lead to a path best not trodden. “With, but not from,” I hurried my words, “Alch— I mean, Citizen Valetin and I shared the same mentor.”

“If you’d been apprenticed to the same trash as Valetin, you wouldn’t be with the Guild. That one didn’t grad—” The woman began but the taller Gentry in front of the door cut her off with a raised hand.

“What’s your name girlie?” He asked, peering at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

That they kept calling me ‘girlie’ when we all seemed close in age was aggravating but I ignored it for now. “Tell Citizen Valetin that my name is Alchemist Vaeronica.” I hesitated before adding, “Also, that I too, was an apprenticed of the late Alchemist Krutov.” My name got a smile from the Gentry on my right but at the mention of the deceased alchemist, it turned into a grimace that spread to the others.

Looking solemn, the tall Gentry moved aside from the door. He even doffed his hat. “Apologies Vaeronica, Raina has mentioned you on occasion. Any family of hers, is a friend of the Gentry.” At that, I wanted to frown. I managed to keep it off my face though. While I had respect for the Ash Family’s enforcers, it didn’t mean I wanted to hear Raina’s name from their lips. Attention was the herald of trouble, as the saying went. He opened the door and gestured me in. “Valetin is just finishing up with someone but if you’ll have a seat, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Surprised and a little miffed at Raina for not keeping a lower profile, I nodded and walked into the small waiting room on the other side of the door. The tall handsome Gentry went through another door on the opposite side of the room and disappeared. It didn’t take long for mister tall, dark and dapper to return.

He flashed me a bright smile. “Valetin’s eager to talk to you, he asked that you remain here, and he’ll come get you in a moment.”

As he made to move past me, I laid a hand on his arm. “You got my name, but I never got yours.”

Stepping back and sweeping his arm, hat in hand, across his body he grinned broadly. “How rude of me, Mydilsburgh at your service.” He straightened and flashed a wink my way. “But you may call me Myd.”

I smiled warmly in return. “Very well, Citizen Myd, thank you for showing me in. You brought up Raina earlier.”

He nodded regally. “Darling woman. As I’m sure you know, her kindness is a rare treasure, especially here in Indus.”

I quickly donned my merchant’s mask to keep from grimacing. “She always brightens wherever she is. Did you meet at her bakery?”

“No, the Ash mansion actually is where we first met,” Why in the Maw had Raina gone there? “though I’ve become a regular at the bakery since then!”

“Only natural, it is the best in the city. Though I may be biased.” I laughed and somehow made it sound genuine. I had thought Raina and I had an understanding. I thought she’d understood how risky any close relationship with that family could potentially be. “Hopefully I’ll see more of you in the future.”

He chuckled and waved a hand as he turned to leave. “I’m confident that you will, Vaeronica.”

***

I wasn’t left waiting for long. The faded green door eased open and a battered woman limped out. She only glanced at me once, then studiously ignored me as she slowly made her way to the outer door. The inner door swung open again and a thin hume man with a worn face appeared. He wore simple clothes, yet I could tell they were well made. A tight fitting, hemp shirt and pants. His apron, gloves and boots all appeared to be crafted from fish leather. Not so dissimilar to my own clothes. His tight high collar though was a glaring difference. I couldn’t stand having such a thing around my throat.

“What brings an ‘Alchemist’ down from the lofty heights of Comra?” His voice was as I remembered. Pleasantly smooth and cultured. The hint of weariness I attributed to the passage of time. Rare are the few who don’t pick it up at some point.

“Citizen Valetin, I’m not sure if you remember me but I’m Alchemist Vaeronica. We met some years ago at the Kleo Academy.”

He rubbed his short beard with the back of his knuckles. His face scrunched in thought. Then he began nodding slowly. “Yes. Yes, I remember you. I think Ste—” He looked conflicted for a second and his hand fell back to his side. “I think one of our old teachers mentioned you a few times.” Half his mouth curled up. “Also, I know you’ve probably just been doing it out of habit but remember that using honorific titles down here is considered pretentious.” He crossed to one of the chairs and sat.

I looked down and away from his face. “Yeah, sorry Valetin. I’ve been living in Comra for a while.”

He smiled in full. “Not an issue. So, what can I do for you Vaeronica?”

“I had a visit from a Cleric.”

His upper lip twitched. “Sorry to hear it.” He adjusted himself in the chair. “You’re a Guild member though, why come to me instead of them?”

I hesitated, again wondering how much truth to use. “The Alchemists Guild may dislike the Church as an organization, but as individuals the council and Overseer may dislike me more.”

His eyebrows shot up. “What’d you do to earn that much animosity?”

I shrugged, seeing no harm in giving him the truth. Or at least pieces of it. “There were some, irregularities, with my graduation. You of course knew Alc—, Krutov’s game. I managed to find something he wanted more than my apprenticeship. In exchange, he agreed to graduate me early. It wasn’t a problem at first, but then Krutov died. I know how it sounds, I swear though, the Overseer started picking on me after that. He even convinced the council to deny me a start up loan. It was only sheer luck that I knew a patron wealthy enough to offer an alternative. They couldn’t stop it, but they certainly didn’t like it. Then there’s been a few, clashes of interest, since then.”

He smiled at that. “Good for you, about time someone stood up to those foolish fossils. Sometimes I wish there had been a way for me to get some payback.” His face fell into a grimace. “Unfortunately, I’m nobody to them and less to the Church. The only aid I could offer would be a place to lay low.” He shifted in his seat. “That said, if you’re in that much trouble, it might be best to see the Gent himself.”

I was already shaking my head by the time he finished. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer Valetin, but I’d rather stay below the notice of the city’s titans. I’m sure you can appreciate the freedom that comes with anonymity.” A freedom I would not relinquish without a fight. I stood from the chair and crossed the stone floor to stand close to him. “The reason I came to you is due to the nature of the Cleric’s investigation. It’s regarding our late mentor and the secrets he left behind.”

His shoulders tightened then slowly relaxed. “That man made more trouble than he did potions. What was the Cleric asking about?”

I nodded gratefully, perversely glad to finally talk to someone who shared my feelings for the man. “Someone else moved into his old place and found a hidden laboratory. The Cleric grilled me about it, but I didn’t even know the lab was there.” Or what secrets it might have held.

Valetin paled and leaned back. The reaction spoke volumes, volumes that grew with his stretching silence. He wasn’t just shocked. He knew something or like me, had threads of secrets in danger of snagging attention.

“Did Alchemist Krutov ever mention it to you? Or let slip something about it?” I pressed. “Did you ever notice supplies missing from the main lab, or equipment?”

Valetin stared at me and I could tell he was weighing each thought down to the grain. I started when he twisted and clamped a hand on my shoulder. Staring intently into my eyes he demanded, “What exactly did the Cleric ask you about the lab? What did you tell him? Did he mention anything about the contents?” His tone was flat, but his words were hurried. I sensed desperation in them.

“I couldn’t divine anything from his questions. He never mentioned its contents. They had to have found something though. A hidden laboratory isn’t exactly Cleric level illegal.” I was carrying around a constant dread of what was. “Did you know about it?”

He stood abruptly, his hand springing from my coat. I’d thought he’d been pale before, but he was looking absolutely bloodless now. “I’m afraid I must ask you to leave Vaeronica.”

“What!” I stood up quick, indignant over the sudden dismissal. “You can’t just kick me out. If you have secrets that might be in there, know that I do too. We need to work together on this. What do you know Valetin?”

He shook his head violently sending his braid bouncing. He strode past me to the outer door reaching over to pound a fist against it. “I’m sorry but you have to go.”

In three quick steps I was right in his face. The savage part of me would have been growling if given a voice. “You can’t do this to me Valetin. I’m on the edge of the Maw here,” I grabbed the front of his shirt, “don’t push me. I, need, to know what Alchemist Krutov was doing in there. What records he might have kept.”

“No Vaeronica!” He shouted pushing me away. “I’m sorry, you’re on your own.” His shove was hard enough to break my grip and send me stumbling backward. “You want no part of what’s to come I can promise you that. If there’s already a Cleric involved…” Valetin trailed off as footsteps approached the door.

“Please Valetin.” I pleaded as the door swung open.

Myd stepped in, looking wary. “You rang Valetin?”

Valetin smooth his hands down his front nodding. “I need you to see the lady out please Myd.” He gave me a hard look. “We’re done here.”

I returned the look with a glare. I wanted to push the coward for more information but not at the risk of upsetting the Gentry. Myd stepped out of my way as I stalked out of the Clinic. I hadn’t put much faith in Valetin knowing anything that could help me, yet since he obviously did, the venture now felt like a major defeat. The most frustrating aspect of this, was the nagging feeling that we could have helped one another if he’d only confided in me. I understood him wanting to keep his secrets though. Those Above would have to pry mine, from my cold death clutched hands. We were strangers, and I knew firsthand how deadly misplaced trust could be. Especially when the Church was involved. I nodded to the Gentry loitering near the door and then to Myd who had followed me out. “Take care, Myd.”

“Did you and Valetin have a disagreement or something?”

I waved the idea away. “Nothing worth mentioning. Hope you have a sun filled day.” Only after I’d finished saying the customary greeting did I remember where I was. “Or at least a pleasant one.” I quickly amended.

He just laughed and grinned at my slip. “The same to you!”

With a slight wave back, I moved away from the clinic. By the time I pushed back into the foot traffic, most of my ire toward Valetin had dissolved. I still had other methods of getting answers. And Valetin might yet be useful.

Chapter 6

I went all of a city block before taking a right turn. A loose plan unfurling in my mind. I figured there was enough time to indulge it. Keeping an eye out for any Gentry, I hastened up the street. At the crossroads, I joined the flow of people crossing then attached myself to a clump of people heading back toward the core. Valetin might think ignorance is bliss, but I knew better. Danger exists regardless of one’s knowledge of it. The best protection was education. Staying in pace with those around me I scanned the walls of the buildings that lining the street. Not wanting to draw attention, I needed a place to loiter. I didn’t know how long I might have to wait and if the Gentry caught me nosing about now, they might have some uncomfortable questions. The tight roads didn’t leave much room for conveniently offset store fronts or deep doorways. Yet if I could get up off the streets… It took walking a few blocks in a vaguely looping pattern to find what I was looking for. Running up the front of an old stone complex, a rusting service ladder rose up to the rooftop. It was a little farther away than I would have liked, yet I might still get a decent view of the street fronting the Clinic. If no one raised a fuss I could post myself up there. The ladder was fortunately in-between niteolux lamps too, making it as dark as anywhere on the street. I made my way over and just started up. As if I climbed it daily. The ladder groaned as it took my weight. It held though, seeming solid despite its appearance. I held my breath for the first few rungs. Waiting, dreading that someone would yell at me or shout for the Gentry. The light grew dimmer the higher I got, until I was reaching more on instinct for the next rung rather than sight. At least it would make it harder to see me. I relaxed a little more. Naturally, that’s when the rung tore free in my grasp. Suddenly off balanced with only a foot and a hand supporting me, my body twisted sideways, and I hissed as the left side of my ribs smacked into the ladder. My cheek scraped on the flaky rusts coating the side rail. I flailed my right foot around seeking purchase. With a bit of a struggle, I managed to wedge it in next to my other foot. I recentered myself, still only securing myself with one hand. The other clutched the rung that had decided to become a rod. The temptation to drop it had been strong, but it would have called unwanted attention to me. Not really knowing what to do with it I stuck it in one of the outer pockets of my coat. Heaving a deep breath, I resumed my climb. Cautiously. I can’t say what made me think Valetin might lead me somewhere interesting. With how spooked he was he might just hightail it home to pack, then skip out on the next ship going anywhere but here. He might not even come out the front entrance or he might have left right after me. Suddenly this didn’t feel like it had been that smart of a plan. While there wasn’t a back alley, whose to say he didn’t have some secret passage through to a neighboring building. However, as I levered my body over the top of the ladder and on to the damp stone roof, I decided to press on. Might as well now that I was up here. I moved across the roof, keeping low. There was no horizontal gap from the building I was on to the next, but there was a full story of vertical difference. If I wanted to be able to see down the street to the clinic, I needed to drop down and cross to the far side. Biting my lip, I laid flat along the edge. I didn’t want to even consider what liquid was soaking into my clothes. With Comra above and Noblesse above that, wetness here was rarely pure water. Grasping the ledge, I twisted my legs off, controlling my body’s swing until I was dangling. Dropping, my boots thumped down onto the neighboring roof. Unlike the last, this one was metal, and it whined loudly. I froze for a few thundering heartbeats. I had more useful things I could be doing than indulging instinct. I should have just written Valetin off as a loss. With a self deprecating tsk I straightened. Gently, I eased my way across the roof. My trek was far from silent despite my efforts. I was almost at the corner when a thought stopped me cold. If I did see Valetin, how was I going to get down in time to tail him? Slamming my palm into my forehead I cussed myself out. I’d had this vauge notion of creeping across the rooftops like some thief extraordinaire. Which might work. Till the first road. I sat down where I was, not caring when the roof moaned. I had to admit to myself that the situation had me panicking. I was making dumb mistakes. Not using the patience and forethought I’d worked so hard to cultivate. In reflection, I shouldn’t have talked to Valetin without a metaphorical carrot in one hand and a club behind my back. I should have made more of an effort to get into Krutov’s. If I was being honest, really honest with myself, I probably shouldn’t have bribed Krutov with something I was trying to keep secret to begin with. Although, to be fair to my past self, it was, and remains to be, the only thing in my possession of exorbitant worth. I gave the intersection below a last glance then resolved myself to chalking this plan up as a loss. Cut the bud, save the blood. I stood back up, brushing off my backside. I still didn’t know how I was going to get down.

***

A little over a minute later and an expensive speed potion less, I was back on the street. Running back up the wall I’d dropped over had been child’s play. I hated using potions on myself though. Due to my body’s unique reaction to potions, it always felt like a waste. I set out east, toward the Maw and my last destination. I was fairly confident the Magpie would have the materials I needed, but I also held out hope that he might have heard something too. I suspected he had informants in the Mercenary Guild, or at least someone close enough to keep him in the loop. If he didn’t though… well that was why I was picking up some rare materials from him too. I really hope it didn’t come to that though. On the bright side, if the worst case scenario came to be, there was the Omega plan. Sacrifice my shop and disappear. Either hole up with Raina and the kids or— Was that Valetin? My pessimistic thoughts screeched to a dead stop as I watched Valetin. He crossed the intersection on the other side of the street. Someone bowled into me from behind, with a curse at my sudden stop. I recovered from my stumble turning the momentum into a fast walk. Maybe I still had some luck after all. The steady glow from the niteolux lamps was a blessing. The pools of shadow that lapped at the lights edge were perfect for slipping in and out of. I let out a soft snort. Considering who ran the sector I wouldn’t be surprised if they were purposely installed this way. Valetin kept moving swiftly, yet never too fast. Never quick or rough enough to attract undue attention. Honestly for a Comra boy he did a decent job of making sure he wasn’t followed. I just had more experience. When he went into a storefront, I knew to watch the backdoor. When he sped up, I slowed, knowing the deceptive tactic. When he took alleys, I kept to the street. At one point, as he was rounding a road that encircled the trunk of a city support pillar, Valetin stumbled on a small skirmish between some figures in brown cloaks and the Gentry. I felt sorry for them. The brown cloaks, that is. Who was dumb enough to pick a fight with the Ash Family? In their home territory no less. Valetin thankfully, and wisely, gave the combatants a wide berth. Tailing him became harder after that though. Not because of anything Valetin did. Nor the terrain or traffic. It was the steady increase in the number of Gentry. Clusters of tall hats dotted our paths with increasing regularity. In the street, on walkways and some balconies too. The perceptive would note their presences on some of the roofs as well. I wondered if my own roof top visit had been witnessed. I’d been skulking after him for near an hour when I rounded a corner to find a city block missing. Well not missing per say, as the area wasn’t vacant. A mansion sat alone, centered in the middle of the eerily open space. Its architecture was, odd. Gorgeous granite blocks formed a rectangular base, the long side at least forty meters and the short about half that, each visible side dotted with thin windows. Not one of them was more than a handspan in width. It rose two stories like that, then the walls contorted. The walls that curved up and in from the long sides of the rectangle, formed a central cylindrical tower. Each narrowed as they rose, wrapping into the tower. To either side of that, each end wall cupped inward and flowed into tear drop shapes. Their narrow ends lifted up and flowed into the main tower. If the central tower had a roof, I couldn’t see it. There was a darkness above the mansion that seemed, unnatural. I slowed, slipping out of the foot traffic. I had an uncomfortably good idea of where Valetin had led me. Large niteolux braziers hung suspended from the hands of carved statues. They surrounded the upper edge of the rectangular portion of the mansion. The glow from the braziers washed over stern androgynous faces. Watchers. Judges. Fitting artwork for the Ash Family mansion. Like the Maw, the home of the infamous Ash Family is one of those places that most citizens have a general idea of its location. Like the Maw, most intelligent people stay away from it too. Apparently, Valetin didn’t fall in that category today. I guess I was on the edge too. I gingerly stepped up beside a man trying to warm himself and peered discretely at the building. A troop of darkly dressed Gentry lazed about the tall double doors with feigned disinterest. At first glance, you could be forgiven if you thought they were the same as any other. Employee’s paid to stand about and look menacing. However, someone with an eye for detail, would note that their aimless gazes covered every possible approach. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on one of the more animated members of their group. As the person gestured wildly at one of the others, I caught sight of a finely tooled sword sheath. Street thugs? No. More like wolves under the snow. By the time you noticed your mistake, it would already be too late. No walls surrounded the building, only a blanket of jagged crushed stone filled the space between the structure and the road. Valetin crossed it, making a jarring racket as the stones clinked and clacked under his boots. I noted how the guards never challenged him. Just carefully watched his progress. One of the large double doors, extravagantly made of wood, or at least crafted to appear so, swung open on his approach. He darted up the three low steps as if the jaws of a dire beast snapped at his heels and the darkness swallowed him. I shifted back against the wall beside the poor chap trying to get warm, a frown on my face. This mess was growing out of control as more threads kept getting caught up in it. A Cleric. Enough mercenary adepts to take on a small army. Now the direct involvement of Gentleman Jack Ash. What in the bloody maw had Krutov done? And what part did my Alcgel play in this mess.

Chapter 7

In Indus the only physical separation between Aiera’s sector and Etratsa’s further east, was the main street that ran almost uninterrupted from the edge of the Gutter, back to the Core. One could be excused for thinking it was a different city completely though. Everything was fouler for one. The streets were teaming with greenish brown mud, the buildings coated in centuries of grime and soot. Even the people appeared more forsaken, and I knew most burned with a corruption. Not of the body, no this was more a twisting of the spirit. Made all the more perverse by the ample amount of sunlight they were gifted. More than any other sector of Indus. With the sun having crested its peak a couple hours ago, now falling on the other side of the city, the light was starting to grow dim here. With my first few sloppy foot falls into the muck, I found myself missing the clean darkness I’d left behind. I wove through the traffic. There were more than a few merchant carts choking the still narrow streets. Most of the wares looked salvaged or raided from a junk heap. The so called merchants that manned them were an affront to the title. I kept a keen eye out for cutpurses and pickpockets. Working my way southeast, I found my mind wandering to Raina once more. It worried me that the Gentry were so familiar with her and worse, what her reason for visiting the Ash mansion could have been. Contact with them was inevitable with her living under their thumb in the Undercity, yet she should have been beneath their notice. What could have made them take an interest in her? Indecision, and the urge to pay her a visit, had me slowing my pace. Or perhaps I was just missing her. If I really considered it, with her personality, she wasn’t that at risk of rubbing the Ash Family the wrong way. Also, as much as I wanted to march over there and scold Raina for getting friendly with them, there were certain benefits. Not to mention I had other priorities at the moment. I washed the issue from my mind and walked on. I was getting close to the Maw when I encountered a wall of stopped traffic in the road ahead. Regrettably, there seemed to be something impeding the normal flow and a large pool of unrest was beginning to simmer in its midst. I was tempted to turn back and loop around, but I decided to at least see if I could squeeze through first. Edging along the filth coated building fronts, I slowly made my way toward the heart of the chaos. Muttering unfelt apologies at those I jostled, I once again used my boney frame to my advantage, slipping elbows into the narrow gaps between onlookers.

“Stop bloody pushing!” A woman, wearing foreign looking, well stained, yellow and grey travelling robes, rounded on me as I tried to work my way between her and a sweaty balding man to her left. “You’re not getting farther ahead than this and the street’s blocked off, so cool your heels!”

“Sorry ma’am,” I simpered insincerely, slipping on my merchant’s mask, “just trying to see what all the commotion’s about.” I went up on my tippy toes trying to see over her shoulder. “I don’t suppose you saw what happened?”

She grunted and turned back to where I assumed the action was happening. I thought she was just going to ignore me but then she spoke, keeping her voice pitched low. “Someone made an error in judgment and missed some magic users amongst a shipment of slaves.” She shook her head with a look I thought might be pity. “What ever the untrained user did, it completely wrecked the cars in front and behind the one they were locked in. There was so much blood. I can only hope those inside didn’t suffer long.”

At that, the harsh looking fellow at her side piped up. “T’anks t’T’ose Above t’oug, it wasn’t all bad as it could’ave been. No citizens were‘urt. T’oug I don’t envy t’slavers w’o made t’first fuck up. T’is just t’reason t’at T’ose Above say no magic using slaves. You just kill’em quick.” He scratched the back of his neck. As focused as I was on deciphering the man’s heavy accent, I almost missed the look of disgust that flashed across the woman’s face at his words. “Mercs are up t’ere now, probably waiting on a Cleric or a Mag’ to move t’wrecks.”

The woman shook her head, her long braid swinging back and forth. “Shouldn’t matter if they were collared or not. They still had lives.” The big guy grumbled at that comment, but the woman pressed on. “Not to mention the disgrace of lives being reduced to a settlement of coin.”

Apart from this woman, my neighbor Sophie and Raina were the only other people I’d encountered who seemed against slavery. I was of course, a vehement opposer of it. Yet if my own past hadn’t been tainted by slavery, I sometimes wondered if I would still be so set against it. I lifted my shoulder in a private shrug. “Just the way things have always been.” I said sagely, earning myself a glare from the woman. I almost smiled nastily in return. She could think what she would of me. Unlike her, I had an act to keep up.

She opened her mouth, to disagree I assumed, but the man beside her cut her off, his head bobbing in agreement with my observation. “Rig’t you are little miss.”

The woman sputtered indignantly. “Only in this money worshipping city do you see this kind of heartlessness! What gives you people the right to demean life so!”

The fellow and I shared a knowing look. Those from other cities were quick to bemoan slavery but seemed oblivious to the fact they were the ones creating the demand for the commodity. Every trade ship that left by land or air carried the fruits of slave labour in some form or the other. If the other cities were really so opposed, they should stop doing trade with us. If that happened the slavery might actually end. A few more moments passed in silence, and I was about to turn back when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

The fellow I’d been chatting with nodded forward. “Looks like t’ey’re about done, you off to t’Maw?” At my nod he, let out a grunt and squared his wide shoulders. “Stick close be’ind.” That said he pushed forward into the thick crowd. Pleasantly surprised I stayed close on his heels. Amusingly the woman tagged along in my wake too, our differences temporarily forgotten for the convince of the moment. It took only minutes to reach the train crossing with our large guide powering his way through people like a dire beast. In the gap between buildings to the left, I saw a magh walking the tracks, two large, crumpled metal cars floated through the air in front of him. Grim faced mercs hauled bloody mangled corpses off the rails and unceremoniously tossed them into carts. With a shudder I tried not to think of the grisly meat being dumped into the Gutter’s stew.

***

With the tracks behind me, I continued moving southeast another block. I soon entered the dilapidated area known as Maw’s Edge. Like an open festering wound in the city, the Maw seemed to spread rot and corruption in the nearby vicinity. The reason was an uncomfortably mundane one. The noble family in charge of the sector made most of their profit from mining the Maw in Indus. They saw no value in their Indus area apart from that. Infrastructure not directly used by the Miner’s Guild wasn’t maintained at all. The few mercs they employed down here stuck close to the important assets. Leaving the rest of the area, and any who dared live there, to street gangs and thugs. I was deep enough in the rot that I kept a hand close to my blade. The decay was uncomfortably apparent. The buildings became shorter, their shoddy construction unable to support more than two stories. Walls of precision cut stone blocks became sporadic. The hovels here primarily consisted scrap metal and piled chunks of rock. Small sheet metal lean to’s, ore cart hovels and crude huts grew like fungus around the larger more permanent structures. The streets became thickly coated with an even fouler smelling mess, a clear sign the waste wasn’t making it out to the Gutter. While the area was not vacant, there were less people in sight. I could feel the stares though. Hungry. Starving, resentful and desperate. I remembered the feeling well. I kept a careful eye on all of the alley mouths, sundown was prime time for the ragged street gangs that operated here, and it was approaching. At least keeping watch kept me from thinking about the filth I was getting on my boots. If I weren’t an alchemist and the boots not beast leather, an expensive material in this city, I might have thrown them out after this trip. I turned onto the street that headed toward the middle of the sector and picked up my pace. This close to the maw, press gangs and slavers hunted the weak and unaware. At the next intersection, a man was setting up a cart. The crudely etched metal sign on it blatantly advertised drugs and crude potions that I knew would be uselessly weak but highly addictive. As I traveled closer, streets stopped intersecting with the one I was on, then the street I was on, stopped altogether. Spreading out before me was the wasteland of the maw’s rim. Like an infernal beach before an abyssal ocean, the terrain sloped downwards. Descending into the colossal pit. Formed of our ancestor’s greed and ignorance long ago. The Maw. Back when Those Above called Comra home and it was the top tier of the city. Our ancestors had learned the hard way what happens when you mine indiscriminately. One afternoon, the story goes, a tunnel collapsed causing a chain of further collapses in the old mines. The result was a rough circle of land, close to two kilometers across, that sank almost seventy meters. It had brought down the entire sector of Comra above it. Still needing access to the resources of the deep earth, yet loath for this disaster to occur in other sectors, Those Above had decreed that all mining operation would be confined here. Now the sharp edges of its massive mouth yawned before me like the jaws of some mythical abomination. Hence the name. The far side was lost in the steam and soot bellowing from its depths, but on the side close to me, I could just make out the start of the spiral ramp. It wound its way down to the large lifts that transported goods and workers to the Maw’s floor. As the city grew up, the Maw was excavated down. Rumor was that once it reached a depth of four kilometers, Those Above had permitted branch tunnels to be dug off the main pit. Some of the more fantastical telling’s claimed people lived in these far reaching tunnels like a deeper, darker, mirror of the great Undercity under the Aiera Sector. It was only a rumor though. After the first collapse a notch had been built into Comra. Support columns, all set well back from the Maw’s edge, rose to bear its weight. The notch itself a flattened ‘u’ shape wrapped around above. I lengthened my stride. Hensso’s place was close now, and I was getting twitchy under the constant feeling of eyes on me. The savage part of me felt hunted and urged me to find cover. I was of a mind to agree. I’d honestly hoped I’d find a way around ever having to come back here. That would have required finding another source for the rare and very illegal substances involved with creating more Alcgel. Not to mention another informant I could trust. Both, seemingly impossible tasks. I’d only found out about the Magpie in the first place through Raina. Her previous career had caused her to cross paths with him a few times. She’d told me the location grudgingly and made me promise to be careful around him. The Magpie could turn violent if crossed. I’d noticed his latent viciousness, despite only having done business with him twice before. I let out a sigh, resigned to yet another tense negotiation. My poor boots began to stick with every step, the streets had been bad enough but without paving stones beneath providing support, the ground became complete slop. In places, sluggish rivers of goo poured over the edge of the Maw. Most locals knew to be careful, but you always heard tales of the unwary being carried over. Here it wasn’t so dangerous. The surface of the spiraling ramp road wasn’t too far down yet. You might break a leg, but you’d survive. On the other side of the Maw however, a fall meant death. I stepped cautiously. Not much marked the entrance to the Magpie’s nest making it a little difficult to find even if you knew the general location. I didn’t know how anyone else found it, but my trick was to use the cities towering skyline. Looking up I read the support webbing like a map. Still feeling those eyes and the salivating mouths attached to them, I was anxious to get out of the open. Not to mention, out of the small streams of filth I was sloshing through. I moved around until I had a line of sight on several “landmarks”. Right as the last came into sight, my boots clanked on metal. Using my foot, I cleared the square of sheet metal. Finding an edge with my fingers I heaved up. It gave a little when I tried to reef it open, but something kept it from coming free. I sensed the presence of people behind me, forms keeping just out of sight in the ramshackle mess. Felt their mounting anticipation. I cursed under my breath. Loitering here was attracting attention of the violent variety. I kept up my efforts nonetheless and was rewarded seconds later when the cover suddenly gave. Thrown off balance I lost my footing, landing on my rump in the muck. My clothes instantly dampened with a foul smelling, disturbingly warm, liquid. I quickly scrambled back to the metal, now heedless of getting dirtier, and was thankful when it rose easily this time. Grabbing the rungs of a metal ladder, I slipped into the rough shaft and descended, letting the cover close above me. I would have preferred to have left it open, but even criminals like Hennso have rules. About three meters down, my foot met ground and I stepped off the ladder. Feeling around with my hands in the dark, I found the door. I knocked hard and quick, rattling the door as loudly as I could. I didn’t have to wait long before it burst open, spilling light into the small space. In the doorway a wide shouldered man stood wiping his hand on a dirty stained rag. His long tunic, barely containing his ample gut, was stained the same off brown color, as the ground outside his dwelling.

“Welcome!” Hensso’s deep voice rolled out, his wide mouth split into a smile as he leered down at me. “Now wait, don’t tell me, I have a knack for names and faces.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Vaeronica, yes? Alchemist and merchant if I’m not mistaken.” His bulbus nose wrinkled. “Ugh, is that stench coming from you?”

I looked down at my filthy clothes and scraped as much gunk off as I could quickly. “Ci— Hensso.” I corrected myself mid sentence, remembering to drop the honorific. Doing my best to ignore his leer, I gave him a nod. “I’m surprised you remembered me. It has been a while.”

“Oh, how could I forget about such a unique client.” He laughed. “The materials I provided you were to your satisfaction I take it?”

“Very much so.” I met his eyes. “That’s part of the reason why I’ve returned today. Are you still able to provide the merchandise I got from you last time?”

He nodded, his grin fading as he glanced up the shaft. He turned, gesturing at me to follow him.

“Let’s make words inside.” He glanced at me. “Wipe your boots.”

Making a face at his back, I followed the Magpie of the Maw into his nest.

We passed through the small entryway, down a narrow, dilapidated corridor. His ‘nest’ had once been a building on the surface. Over time it had settled into the muck until it had become submerged completely. I had a suspicion that it was still sinking, because it seemed like the entry shaft was deeper than my first visit, almost six years ago. On either side of the hallway, doorways split off at regular intervals, but most were bricked up. The cold stone floor was clear of mud, but it only highlighted the dark stains pockmarking the floor and walls. Likely all that remained of the ones who misjudged the Magpie. There seemed to be a few more since my last visit. Hensso, turning into a doorway on the left, thumped something on the wall inside and light bloomed, spilling into the hallway. Turning into the room I slowed, my eyes darting around warily. One could hide a small army amidst the row upon row of ramshackle shelving units. Cagily, I made my way down the tight aisle to where he stood, my eyes casually roaming his eclectic wares. Between defaulted loan acquisitions and ‘appropriated’ merchandise, Hensso’s collection was everchanging. As I stepped near him, he swung his arms open grandly like a Comra showman.

“Behold, the most extraordinary collection in all the city.” I could feel it when he shifted his gaze to me, like a slimy mop travelling down my body. “Or the most rare and unique at the very least.” As uncomfortable as his interest was, I could put up with it for now. He crossed the room to his copper topped, stone counter and squeezed his bulk behind it. Smoothly I slipped on my merchant’s mask, purposely letting my gaze slowly roam across the shelves. I dealt with Hensso the same way I would any predator. Show no vulnerability and act like an equal. Neither inferior nor superior. So, I ignored his hungry gaze, instead, pointing at one of the items on a shelf behind him. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

The abhorrent object of my enquiry was a thick dark skull. A crown of burnished brass was affixed to it. The crown was inlaid with dark red stones. On the upper and lower edges of the bronze band, were lines of etched script that were unfamiliar to me, but I was guessing I knew their purpose. The whole thing seemed to give off a dark aura.

“Ha, it’s exactly what it looks like little miss Vaeronica. A masterfully crafted one at that. Took it off an old couple as payment against their debt. Curious piece for such old geezers to have, but you never can tell, can you?” He grunted, turning halfway to admire it himself. He twisted back to me. “Take yourself for example,” he gestured vaguely in my direction, “How’d you know what a Pandora Jar looks like, hmm? Not exactly they type of thing an upstanding citizen such as yourself would know of is it.” I frowned at him, but he only held up his hands in mock defense. “No worries dearie, I mention it only to prove my point,” his eyes narrowed on me, “you never can tell. Now,” he slapped the countertop making the metal ring, “to business.”

I nodded. “Before we talk of ingredients, I was wondering if you might have heard whispers about a developing situation.” His eyebrow went up and I continued. “Alchemist Krutov, a former Alchemist Adept, secreted away a lab before his death. Since his passing, its existence had been uncovered. I am most interested in what may have been locked away inside.”

The Magpie pursed his lip. “Alchemist Krutov.” He smiled. “Your former mentor if I remember correctly. You’re in luck.” A genial look crawled over his face. “Normally I’d set a modest price on such information.” I opened my mouth to ask his price, but he forestalled me, raising a hand. “Normally, but in this case, I think we might be able to trade.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Trade for?”

He swept a hand across the counter in front of him. “Years ago, a certain alchemist came to me with a specific request. Alchemist Krutov had heard that I,” he bared his teeth, “was known to orchestrate the procurement of specific items on occasion. He told me he was lusting after a very old book, one in the tender care of the Clerics.” Behind my merchants mask I silently snarled. This better not lead where I thought it might. No way was my luck that bad. “We came to an agreement, Alchemist Krutov and I.” He spread his hands to the sides. “It seemed so straight forward. All the parts in place. Right up until it came to the, reclamation.” He shook his head with obviously false sorrow. “My retrieval expert bungled the job. He got away with the book but not before getting seen by the previous owners.”

“I’ve heard a tale like that before.” There was a note of sullenness in my voice. Maw take Lucal.

Hennso clapped his meaty paws together. “Yes! Dodging the, very, irate people pursuing him, he thought to lay low with his, paramour.”

Unexperienced in such things, I’d thought that our time together had been a standard example of an adult relationship. It had even been a little fun. The thrill of risk had spiced our conversations and infrequent intimate moments. His smooth words and promises had kept my misgivings supressed. Then, he’d just disappeared. Leaving me with his sticky mess. “I never did hear how that story ended. Did your man get away? Did you ever get the book?”

Hennso squinted at me. “No. No, I did not get the book. Nor did I every find out what happened to the man I’d hired.” He quirked his lips. “I don’t suppose you can fill in any missing pieces.”

I decided to drop the flimsy facade. “Lucal used me. Soon as the Clerics started sniffing around my store he cut and ran, leaving me in their noose.” I’d gone through an incredibly stressful form of torture at the hands of the investigating Cleric. She had used magic to pull the truth from me and I’d had to think amazingly fast to keep my own secrets hidden. Thankfully, she’d been so focused on recovering the book, some clever word play had kept her from stumbling on anything too incriminatory. “I came to just assume the Clerics had caught up with him.” Kind of hoped in fact. I could no longer say I wouldn’t wish the Clerics on my worst enemy. “If they didn’t, all I hope is that he stays gone.” I cracked my merchants mask and grinned at the Magpie. “Or that you find him.”

Hennso actually laughed. A deep rumble that erupted into a booming cackle that made my skin crawl. I never wanted to hear it again. “On that we agree Vaeronica!” He snorted and shook his head. “Getting back to Alchemist Krutov, I never heard from the man again before his passing. Explosion, if memory serves?”

Having brought my merchants mask back, I just nodded politely.

The Magpie rubbed his chin. “Can’t say I ever heard anything about a secret lab, however. I can put some feelers out though if you want. For a price.”

“No. Thank you, Hennso. I might ask again, but its not that pressing.” I lied.

He smirked but didn’t comment. He crossed to a metal drawer cabinet. “Do you have a list of what you need? I also have some limited quantities of a few hard to come by materials.”

I considered him for a moment, double checking the figures in my head one last time. “Unfortunately, I have a limited budget Hennso. Are the prices still similar to my last visit? I’m looking for these ingredients, in the amounts listed beside.” I carefully extracted a small sheet of etching metal from one of my pockets, setting it on the counter. I had refined my calculations since the last time I’d made Alcgel. A good thing too. Even the cost of what was listed was slightly more than I had coin for, but I was hoping my ‘unique’ potion might bring the price down.

Hennso studied the list and set about retrieving the materials. With several set out on the counter in vials and jars he crossed back to the others side again. Bending down, I heard a series of clicks as he unlocked something under the counter. Skillfully maneuvering his large bulk, he crouched and retrieved a finely crafted box. Constructed from steel and glass, it was etched with lines of glowing script. My first time seeing it I’d barely cover my shock that such a delicate object had survived in Hensso’s hands. Later I grew to understand, that the Magpie was most careful in the handling of his “merchandise”, be it inanimate, or animate. Gently, he placed the container on the countertop. The rich autumn orange glow from the runes tinted the glass surfaces. Hensso once again reached under and brought up a rough looking scale. Like mine only in terms of design and function, its rusted arms were set with sloppily cut prisms. I felt the slightest shiver tingle from my fingertips as they itched to remedy the damage. Some people just didn’t know how to properly care for their tools. I fought the impulsive urge to rush over and begin some much needed maintenance on the poor device. If he couldn’t sell it, Hennso cared not for the thing. Be it inanimate or animate.

His rumbling voice brought my attention back to him. “You are fortunate coming in today Vaeronica!  I came into some prime stuff just two days past.” From the metal box he extracted a flight of vials, all glowing a deep blue. “You will be getting the Tears at almost their peak potency.” He progressed through the motions of decanting a vial into a jar on the scale. Despite its appearance I had no reservations about the scale’s accuracy. The Magpie’s code was a strange one, but it did exist.

He had my purchases set aside and was stowing the gleaming box back under the counter when I slipped the potion I’d brought to barter, out of my coat pocket. “Being a collector of such… fascinating wares, I wonder if you’d have any interest in one of alchemy’s more, noxious fruits.” I held the vial out. He swayed up plopping his thick forearms on the counter. It brought his face uncomfortably close to my hand. I had to fight the instinct to jerk it back. It was a struggle to keep my merchants mask in place at the same time.

“And just what do we have here?” He inquired, amusement and curiosity tinting his voice.

Slowly, much slower than I wanted, I withdrew my hand. I placed it on the counter and pushed down slightly to keep it from shaking. “A substance rarer than most. Likely the only sample in the entire city.” I had no real idea, however having been made from illegal substances and my own recipe I could almost guarantee the Guild wasn’t selling it. “Its name is Hālitūs de Vesuvius.” A pretentious name but it was all part of the merchant’s game. “Once released, a massive plume of smoke will explode outwards. The dense cloud is filled with toxic particulate. Small amounts will cause blindness and nausea,” I caught his eyes with my own, “Large amounts will kill.”

“A veritable cloud of death.” Hensso’s voice oozed with a malicious wistfulness.

Only my merchants mask hid my delight. He hadn’t been this visibly interested in anything else I’d brought to him. In my mind I hoisted the price. No way was I getting a straight exchange for the materials, but with a little more hype, I just might get half price. “While its uses are only limited by your imagination, it will certainly confound pursuers and thrown in a crowd, will cause devastating chaos.” He was salivating at the mouth, but I’d saved the best, or worse, for last. “Where it really shines, is in a confined area. Unleashed in a building, it will remove your enemies, without damaging the structure.” I glanced around pointedly at his merchandise. “Or its contents.”

Hensso’s hand shot forward. I skipped backward narrowly avoiding him snagging my wrist in his huge paw. There wasn’t much space to maneuver and my back roughly impacted the end of the shelving unit behind me. His eyes flicked briefly to my face but quickly snapped back to the vial as if magnetized. I was glad it held him enthralled. I don’t think I was able to keep the flooding fear from breaking through my mask and spilling across my face. Weakness would set him off as sure as threats. I’d been warned and knew he had a savage side but had never truly encountered it until now. I started visualizing my way back to the surface. Just in case. With just a hint of a warble, I ventured, “I take it you’re interested then. This for the Tears and the rest for coin?” Under different circumstance I might have started higher. Today however, I just wanted to get the Alcgel ingredients and then get gone.

The Magpie seemed to slowly temper his wrathful avarice. Tearing his gaze from the vial he returned it to me. “Half the cost of the Tears.” He intoned in an eerily calm voice. “The deaths aren’t cheap.”

“Four fifths, for a return customer Hennso.” I bargained. Though after that little out burst, my time as such might be at an end.

“And done.” He hissed out in a near whisper. He piled the materials on my side of the counter and eagerly thrust an upturned palm toward me. Wary now, I carefully placed the end of the vial in his palm. His thick fingers coiled around it and he jerked it close to his chest. I’d seen mothers cradled their children with less adoration than him with that vial. I didn’t even want to speculate on what he might do with it in the future. Or who he might sell it to. Eager to be on my way I hurriedly counted out the balance of coin in silence. To my shame I jumped a little when he suddenly spoke. “This had better not be a dud, little Alchemist. I don’t take disappointment well.”

I threw the final five coins in the pile and grabbed for the ingredients, hastily slotting the vials into the inside of my coat. “It will work as promised Hennso. Unless you’ve pissed off a magh or cleric, no one is going to chase you through a cloud of that stuff.” Securing the last vial, I started moving for the exit. “Always a pleasure doing business Hensso.” I lied. I didn’t run, yet I was moving fast enough that I was in the hall when I heard his reply. It echoed, filling the air like the shadow of the reaper. “See you soon Vaeronica.”

Chapter 8

The sun had just begun its descent as I strode away from the maw. My hands stayed ready to draw my daggers all the way to the Etratsa sector train station. There was no doubt in my mind that the Indus train would be operational despite the incident today. There was a reason they’d coughed up the coin to get a magh involved. Too many businesses relied on the resources that ship out along these tracks. Where the skytrain ran three passenger cars and a single cargo. The Indus trains were four cargo and a single passenger. The logical assumption that because it was Indus, the passage fare would be cheaper, didn’t hold water. It actually was a few coins more. Fortunately, I still had more than enough left thanks to the discount my Hālitūs de Vesuvius had provided. I closed my coat tight and squeezed on. The smell in the car was somewhat pungent. Different from the streets. More the sour tang of sweat than the reek of bodily waste and processed minerals. I was glad when I arrived at the Aiera sector station. I disembarked, following the stream of people down off the train platform. As I got a little way away, I developed an itch between my shoulders. A few subtle looks didn’t reveal anyone following me. The paranoid part of me got louder and I picked up my pace. I didn’t relax until the warm lights of the stairs bathed my face. And then only fractionally. At the base of the stairs, the mercs posted there gave me a rough time about my appearance and the persistent smell. While they were stationed here in the name of keeping the peace, unofficially they acted as a filter. They had all been given an unspoken order to keep the undesirables from ascending. And tonight, I was certainly undesirable. Luckily, having my merchants pass limited their mischief. The Comra Council would have their hides if they began messing with licenced merchants. Though the mercs grumbled about it, I was eventually waved by. I didn’t mind the bother. I was just thankful they didn’t decide to strip search me. The various components of Alcgel would have been hard to explain. Unethical and extremely illegal, possession of the Tears alone was a one way ticket to the Cog. Even the passing thought of the prison made me shudder. Or maybe that was from the cooling Gutter slop soaked into my clothes. I hastened my steps trying not to think about it. With every stair I put between me and Indus, I breathed a little easier. Soon I fell into a lulling rhythm. My mind began to wander. Calculations, recipe adjustments and safety protocols for the coming process, filled my thoughts. My thumb swam over the pitted surface of the safety rail as I let my right hand ride up it. I’d successfully crafted Alcgel twice now, but as any alchemist knows one success doesn’t guarantee another. Especially if I planned to refine the recipe this time. With a limit to what I could plan without my slate and chalk on hand, my mind grew quiet. My damp coat constantly brushed on others, much to their ire, as all of us kept trudging upwards. They would cast me a dirty glare and either speed up or slow down. With one following the rail, my other hand kept returning to my coat. More than just monetary value rested on the vials and jars hidden inside. My future was tied in there too. If the Cleric stumbled on the wrong thread, I might find myself hiding in the mud like Hennso. Or worse. Lethargically I climbed in an almost meditative state. My body drifting upwards like a ship without a captain. I was just passing the midpoint of the stairs, lost in my mind, when a thin arm dug into my side. The sudden force sent me stumbling into the handrail. Off kilter I caught the top rail in my armpit and had to clutch it to keep from falling. My other hand instinctively went to my coat and the precious cargo concealed there. I heard another person curse somewhere above me. I had just regained my feet, my gaze searching up the stairwell, when I was roughly shoved back into the safety rail. At least I kept my feet under me. This time my protesting squawk was join by a litany of curses, as others were similarly knocked aside. Having cut a wider wake, I found the source of the disturbance quite easily. An armored form was shoving its way up the stairs. My indignation swiftly turned to curiosity. By the armor, they must have been one of the mercenaries from the landing. Like an enraged dire beast, the merc forcibly cut their way upwards. Soon they disappeared from sight. While I wouldn’t want to be the poor fool being chased, I didn’t envy the pursuer either. The stairs were hard enough in a heavy coat. I couldn’t imagine doing it in all that armor. The excitement having passed, my fellow trudgers and I soon collected ourselves, continuing our climb. Many grumbled about the rough treatment, but we all knew there was nothing to be done about it. With a heavy sigh at the injustice of it all, I looked out over the safety rail. The waxing moon caught in my eye for a peculiarly long moment, it’s silvery sheen filling the sky as it perched on the city wall. Tearing my gaze from it I turned my face up and tried to find that mindless climbing rhythm again. I’d just found it again when something intangible broke it once more. My mind whispered something just below, or above, my understanding. It wasn’t until the Comra landing came into sight that I comprehended the message. The stream of people descending had ebbed. Only a small trickle passed now, and each face, be they hume, dwarf or flerae, looked harried. Something was happening on the landing. I edged warily out at the Comra exit, where I stood under the niteolux streetlights for a moment in the swirl of bodies, my thighs burning at the sudden lack of motion. My heart, however, accelerated. It was a patrol of those Mercenary Adepts. If they were here the Cleric might be lurking nearby too. Exactly what I didn’t need right now. With what was in my pockets, even a cursory search would qualify me for an immediate death sentence. If I was lucky. I searched my memory of the forum’s layout for a discrete way off the landing. I drifted east, moving, and being moved by the chaos of the crowd. It worked in my favor that the mercs seemed to be focusing on those leaving Comra. They had a large herd of Citizens corralled on the opposite side of the platform. Each was searched and questioned before being allowed on their way. Had the Cleric made a new discovery? The sooner I gained some distance, the sooner I could relax. There was an outer crust of irate people impatient to get to the stairs. It had backed up onto the connecting road and I had to fight to make progress against the flow. With a relieved grunt, I slid out of the foot traffic and onto the adjoined ring road. I found an out of the way edge between two buildings and slid onto the ground. I groaned and began to massage my thighs. Visiting Raina once a month was just not enough for my muscles to become used to the exhausting trip. Then there were all the extracurricular activities I’d been engaging in lately. And then there was my speed potion use too. Thankfully, it was just regular muscle fatigue. Potion slump didn’t hit me as hard as most people. The least the fates could do to balance how quick potions faded for me. My stomach growled, bemoaning the fact that I’d not eaten yet today. I found myself wishing I’d taken the time and gorged on Raina’s delicious cooking. She would have let me bath there and even likely given me a change of clothes if she had them. Not to mention she was the one person I could freely talk to about all this. The only one who knew as much about my secrets as I did. Annoyed with my choices, it was with a resigned sigh that I got up to a knee. I was eager to get back to the shop before my body fully realized how much strain I’d just put it through. I straightened, right into something hard and unyielding. Stumbling, my back slammed into the uneven seam where the buildings met. I looked up and blanched before I could claw my merchants mask into position. My luck seemed to have completely run out for the day. I broke into a cold sweat. “Cleric, it’s a, pleasure to see you again.”

The same Cleric from this morning stared down at me with a calm peaceful expression. Deceptive, like everything about the Clerics. “Apologies Alchemist Vaeronica. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Like he cared. I deepened the smile on my merchant’s mask. “Oh, um, no. Thank you for you’re concern.” Diversion, distraction. “How was your day?” I needed to make this encounter end quickly. Without appearing to want to.

“It has been, more eventful than I expected.” He reached out and it took everything I had not to flinch. He placed a hand on my shoulder, cocking his head slightly. “You’re far from you’re shop.”

Get you’re hand off me, monster. “Yes, had some errands to take care of.” I could feel the abyssal pit of rage in me, stir. Wakening. Why was he still touching me? I really needed him to stop before I did something rash. I mentally flexed. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. “That’s quite the mess on the landing.”

He hummed in agreement, shifting to glance back that way. “An unfortunately necessary measure, even knowing it was likely futile.” He finally dropped his hand, letting go of me. “Forgive me for asking, you don’t know anything about what happened at Alchemist Krutov’s residence do you?” He managed a slightly apologetic look on his face. His mask was good.

I shook my head, affecting a sad cast to my mask. “I apologise Cleric. As I said this morning. Alchemist Krutov never let any trace slip of this secret lab you found.”

There was a pause during which his eyes traced me. Boots to hair and all the stains. He smiled. “Ah, yes.” He paused and a considering look came over him. “That’s not what I was—” He cut himself off. What had he been about to say? He shifted, squaring himself to me and let out a low hum. “I have come up with more questions for you Alchemist, yet right now I must get back to my mercenaries. Make yourself available tomorrow.” I sneered behind the mask. The arrogance! “I will be by in the morning.”

I tackled the waking anger in me. I had to focus. Be patient. “Of course, Cleric, until tomorrow then.” I moved to step past him.

“Dathu.”

I blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“My name, is Cleric Dathu.”

Like I cared. To me every Cleric was only an extension of a single, terrifying, monster. “Aha, well then, take care Cleric Dathu.”

Seemingly pleased, he tilted his head in farewell and strode back toward the ever growing sea of people. The symbol on his coat, rippled. As if taunting me. My fingers curled. My other hand drifted inside my coat, creeping toward my dagger. The anger in me roiled. I could do it. Just one more faceless Citizen in a crowd. One well timed thrust. Sever the spine. The greater monster used hume bodies after all. Each one, fallible. Mortal. The sea of malice in me convulsed, but something else woke too. A memory of Raina’s voice. It permeated the gathering fog of hate. ‘Pause Vaeronica.’ My body listened. ‘Focus inwards, on your core, your quintessential self.’ I took a deep breath. ‘All the rage you store inside, accept it. Acknowledge that it is a part of you. A, part. One of many.’ I let the breath out. ‘You, Vaeronica, are also more than the cold calm of logic, the inane glee of joy or even the burn of sorrow. You are all of them and no single one alone.’ I forced my hand out of my coat and turned away. To myself I muttered the end of the mantra Raina and I developed. “I am all parts of me. I am Vaeronica. I am me and I am in control. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience.” Feeling the familiar relaxation spread through my worn limbs, I headed on to my store. I was exhausted, yet a little flame of hope was still burning inside me. As long as I drew breath, I could eventually work my way out of this entangled prison of events.

I ambled toward the store, the streetlights throwing about odd shadows that played on my paranoia. The odds of someone following me from Indus were slim, yet possible. The Cleric could have set a tail on me too. However, between my frequent glances back and the roundabout route I took, I felt as though I’d have seen at least a hint if someone were tailing me. Still, that itch just below the back of my neck hadn’t disappeared. Unease continued to pull at me and amplify the whispers from the paranoid part of my mind. Logically I reasoned that the Cleric might be behind it. I readily admitted to myself that I was dreading the thought of having to see him again. One more necessary evil however. Avoiding him would only serve to make him more suspicious. Not to mention raise his ire. I turned off the bridge street onto the one that encircled my store, quietly humming tunelessly to myself. The click of my boots seemed to echo in the relative silence of the sleepy neighborhood. When I was a few strides from my door, I drew my key from around my neck. I experienced a flutter of anxiety as my key scratched around the keyhole for a frantic moment before finally slipping in. Unconsciously holding my breath, I flung the reinforced door in with my shoulder, slamming its solid weight closed behind me. I froze there for a second, listening, straining for some half expected noise. After a few seconds I sank to the floor, the back of my leather coat brushing down the door. With a snort of self deprecation, I began to giggle uncontrollably at my paranoid behavior. Still my hand slid up the door frame to find the lock lever. It was only after I heard the thick bolts clank into place, above and below, that I moved. My shop was dark, but I knew it intimately enough that I was able to navigate by memory and the odd touch. I moved behind the counter and knelt to retrieve the small lantern from one of the cubbies. I worked the levers flipping it back and forth. Pale white light glimmered, then glowed as the ingredients reacted. Setting it on the counter, I slid over to the potion cabinet under the stair landing. Using the same key as my shop’s door, I opened the windowed potion cabinet door. A hidden catch freed the racks, letting me slide them forward until they were almost out of the cabinet. Reaching in, I slipped my arm around the racks. Feeling with my fingers I found the hidden pull tab by touch. With two fingers, I gave it a light tug. A muffled click sounded as the mechanism activated and all the gears were given life. Pushing the racks back, I closed the cabinet before sliding back around the counter. The dwarven crafted machine was whisper quiet. I watched in silence as the stairs began to fall. In a cascade that started from the bottom, they gracefully sank to the same level as the floor. The hiss of the hydraulics that carried them could barely be heard. Malcom may not have a drop of magic, but nevertheless I still thought of his inventions as magical creations. Once covered by the stairs, the small tunnel entrance now gapped open. Hewn into one of the immense stone blocks of the support column itself, the dark mouth of the tunnel beckoned to me. I took up the lantern and crossed the lowered staircase. One more lever just inside the tunnel made the stairs rise behind me. As I was sealed in, a wave of serenity spilled over me and I heaved a grateful sigh. Finally, I felt safe. With tired steps, I headed into my sanctuary.

Chapter 9

The twenty meter tunnel seemed much longer tonight. The dwarven genius Malcom had, with my alchemical assistance, carved this tunnel through the ancient stone. I let the fingers of my free hand trail along the smooth wall. Two weeks to build the falling stairs, then a month to carve the tunnel. My hand fell back to my side. Malcom had been near out of his mind the entire time, paranoid that any moment clerics might discover our project. He was somewhat justified. Vandalizing a support column is a crime against Those Above, for which the punishment is immediate execution with extreme prejudice. Being who he is, I knew he likely still has nightmares about it. Yet it wasn’t like he got nothing in return. There are few people in the city who would risk the Church’s wrath to heal a heretic. Our trade had been a cure for his precious daughter, and a tunnel for me. Exiting the tunnel, I stepped out onto the metal platform beyond. My sanctuary. The light’s edges feathered over the hidden bones of the support column. They resembled a stone tree. Branches sprouted off to touch the stone blocks at regular repeating intervals, helixing up. Since the distance between branches was so great though, my tunnel had originally opened into a gap of empty air. Painstakingly over the years, I’d smuggled scraps of metal in here. By pinning support struts below and stringing cables above, I’d constructed a decent size platform. It clung to the wall hidden from everyone, even Those Above. The floor of my sanctuary was a patchwork of metal decking I’d fused together with alchemic compounds. Spanning approximately five meters out from the stone blocks of the column, the long rectangular platform supported the contents of my laboratory. On one side of the tunnel opening was a workbench, slate board, and ingredient storage cabinets. To the other side was a large bookcase, full of etchings I’d both collected and made myself. In front of that, sat the sturdy metal table that had recently doubled as a blast shield. Eager to finish my work for the day, I quickly stalked over to my workbench. In the tomb like stillness, I unlatched the supply cabinet above the workbench and refilled the niteolux lantern. Emptying my satchel, I slid the ingredients I’d purchased onto my workbench. Setting them in a tray, I moved to one of my tall metal ingredient cabinets. The metal door swung out noisily. Three separate cupboards were revealed, stacked vertically inside. Squatting so I was level with the middle one, I regarded the contents. Rows of racks, held ampules, bottles, jars and vials filled with rare or taboo ingredients. Arranged in alphabetical order, I took a moment to check for signs of disturbance. I doubted a person had been here, but a queer reaction or unanticipated degradation could cause an explosion. An expensive miscalculation, as I’d learned the hard way. That’s why I’d taken to doing a check every time I came. I couldn’t afford another. Just remembering the large amounts of rare ingredients I’d lost was painful. Selecting the ones I’d need tonight, I carried the containers over and set them with the other ingredients on my workbench. Pursing my lips for a moment as I ran a mental checklist, I went to check my miniature garden next. If my herbalist friend Sophie knew about it, she’d likely protest me calling it a garden. In the darkness, only algae and fungi grew, but in my mind, they were still plants and therefore this was a garden. What I had growing in the bins that lined the hanging edge of the platform, were rare plants known for their, shall we say, darker aspects. Aha, aha, aha. They didn’t use photosynthesis for nutrition and thus required no sunlight. I used nutrient mixes to feed them instead. Gingerly I inspected their growth, mentally recording my observations, before harvesting what I needed for tonight. Setting the plant matter on the workbench, I barely glanced at my slate board and the complicated design on it. My grand magnum opus. Alcgel, as impressive as it is, was only a part of the larger project. A bastard mix of mechanical engineering and alchemy, it looked like a webbed net, bounded in a circle. Sixteen ‘tendrils’ trailed off of the circle, each leading into a small athanor furnace. The domed caps of each furnace would be sketched with geometric designs encircled in script. Eight of them would theoretically draw and store raw magical energy. The other eight, if my calculations were correct, would both draw and feed magic to the web like net in the circle. Working from children’s fables and ruined shards of historical texts didn’t make for the sturdiest metaphorical foundation on which to rest my theories. It was all I had though. It might also now be my only way of learning the truth of what Krutov had been researching. I had to trust my gut feeling that it could work. Besides there was always some risk with radical innovation. The whole thing was dependent on Alcgel though, so turning back to the workbench I got started with that.

***

After prepping the workstation and setting out the tools I’d need, I walked over to the bookcase. Off a top shelf, I reverently lifted down one of the dull metal sheets. My own crisp etchings covered it on both sides. They detailed the recipe for Alcgel. A creation that was straight from my imagination and to date my greatest triumph. I brought the sheet of etching metal back to my workbench and propped it up in one of the slots in my desk. In a few moments I had the plant matter processed. Intent on the glistening liquid and pulp in front of me, I gently tipped the mortar into the bowl. The blood of the plants ran in a small stream into the vessel. The stone bowl grew heavy in my hand as I waited for the last drops to fall from it. Resisting the urge to give it a light shake, lest an errant drop fly awry, I leveled the mortar and cautiously set it down on the workbench. I shuffled containers around on the far end of the work bench and brought over the glass pan I’d earlier filled with aqua regia. Smoothly I slipped the mortar into the pan, careful not to agitate the dangerous liquid more than necessary. While the liquid was a pain to create, I gladly used it now to cleanse the stone bowl. I slipped the pestle in with the bowl, then slid the pan out of my way. As an extra precaution I liberally splashed a rag with aqua vitae and wiped down the workbench. Those secretions could kill with just a touch. Selecting a vial of quicksilver, I set a small measuring cup down in front of me beside the bowl. I uncapped the vial and let a portion of the silvery liquid wobble its way into the graduated glass cup. I used the end of an old stylus to get the exact amount. I poured the quicksilver into the chalice, keeping the two vessels slanted to limit the impact. Once empty, I filled the measuring cup with a lesser amount of aqua tofana. I repeated the tilted pour, adding the fiery poison to the chalice. Over the next few hours, I slowly prepared and brought each ingredient into the mix. The Tears of Anat were last. As they were gently stirred in, the previously brownish mix took on a deep blue hue. Finally, I was ready for the binding. I placed the bowl in the center of the circular groove on my workbench. Picking out a piece of chalk, I wrote out the guiding script around it. With each line of the script I finished, I intoned the matching verbal component. Such precautionary steps weren’t absolutely necessary. Plenty of magh’s routinely skipped such monotonous tasks, gambling on their unbreakable focus of intent to guide the raw magic. I held no delusions that I could maintain anything near that level of mental control. My mind was far too busy. I shared a private grin with myself at the triple entendre. With the last utterance the script was set. Beginning in the east, I looped the chalk in the groove. The chalk hit its own trail and the circle was closed. Tapping that intangible place inside me I drew on the magic inside me. The entire trickle of it. Guided by my will, the magic slid from inside me, out into my body. My skin tingled. With a thought I urged it into the circle at my fingertips. A feeble glow infused the chalk circle. Between heartbeats the script began to glow. A faint, almost unperceivable hum filled the air. The substance quivered. The humming surged in volume, then abruptly fell, and died. The glow left the glyph, and I broke the circle smudging the chalk. In the bowl rested a beautiful teal liquid. I cautiously decanted it into eight metal vials. A grin stole over my face as I cleaned up, cleaning the bowl in the pan of aqua regia. The up lifting, rush, that came from a successful working was a heady high. It still needed days to cure, yet my part was done and done well. I pondered my plans for it, just for a moment before resuming my cleanup. One step at a time.

***

With one last glance I clicked the cupboard shut and did a final walk about. It seemed like I’d met the cleric weeks ago, not just this morning. I’d packed so much into the day it had seemed like more than one. It was almost done finally. Only a single task left. I moved to my water faucet. Last year I had installed a large water tote in my sanctuary. I decided to use it now to give my fouled clothing a rudimentary cleaning. I was chilly but the less of this muck I brought into my shop, the easier the eventual clean up would be later. Grabbing the niteolux lantern, I made the short trek back to my shop. My body shook as I left the sanctuary. If I didn’t get myself warm soon, I knew I’d be at risk of catching my death, yet I hadn’t wanted to contaminate my apartment with, whatever it was I’d fallen into. Unbalanced by the cold, my mind lapsed into dark memories. Memories of times before. Before Raina or the sun. The jumbled memories of a child imprisoned in a nightmare. I’d been far enough from comforting hands and kind words for them to have almost faded from recollection. The years I’d spent in collars and cages. Prey of darkness and despair. That pit in me, shifted, remembering its birth. Old injustices roused at its wrath. One thought stopped my mind from slipping further into the past. Here wasn’t there and I was here. I wasn’t there in the dark. I had light. I had hope and I had freedom. I forced my fingers to close around the lever that would lower the stairs. The movement pushed fresh warm blood into my fingers and what felt like a thousand needles jabbed their tips. My attention was jerked firmly back to the present. Snapped out of my reverie, my eyes focused on the view once more before me. My precious store. A tentative sliver of autonomy and the budding fruit of a life crafted from my choices. I raised my chin despite my fatigue. For all the hardships that had come with it, my store was of my making, and that, made it priceless to me. I shuffled over the lowered stairway. With a pressurized hydraulic hiss, the stairs rose back into position of their own accord. I stripped down, peeling off my layers of ruined clothes. The evening air wasn’t the least bit warm and while the clothing had been damp, it had also been warmed by my exertions. I half crawled, and half climbed up the stairs. Shuffling slowly, I moved over to the steam valve. Sunken into the floor, the box itself sat between floors. Its pipe network provided warmth throughout my living space and store. For a monthly fee of course. Hands trembling like a potion addict, I shakily turned the attached handle. A loud hiss accompanied the groan of the valve. Steam in the box, would slowly heat the semi-liquid mixture that ran in pipes embedded in the floor. Soon it would warm the entire room, but it would take a while. I clumsily set the lantern down onto the small shelf beside my wash basin. It wobbled for a moment before settling. Bracing myself I opened the chest high spigot. Shakily taking the washcloth, I rushed several quick breaths. My skin tightened at the mere proximity of cold water and I briefly apologized to myself for what would come next. Though I held back the scream, a high whine escaped me as I forced the icy water soaked cloth against my skin. My nipples contracted painfully, and I began to shiver immediately. With rough brisk movements I scrubbed my body down. I had some broken pieces of soap nearby and used my half frozen hands to scrub them into my hair. Teeth chattering by the time I rinsed off, I was forced to use both hands to get the water off as my fingers had lost feeling. Clumsily I hurriedly wrestled my despondent limbs into clean clothes. I moved the lantern onto the floor beside my bed, not yet ready to brave complete darkness. Stopping only to grab my winter fur blankets from a shelf, I fell into my bed fully clothed. Burrowing under my sheets and dragging the furs on top, I drifted off to the distant city noise and dim undulating light. I did not have to wait long for nightmares to claim me.

***

My feet hurt. Oh, the rest of me hurts too, but my feet held my focus now. From my shins down, my feet were a deep black and purplish color, with blood rivulets seeping over them. The normally cold temperature in the dungeon seemed absolutely artic. The ragged patch of cloth covering me did nothing to warm my injured bleeding body. My tunic if one could call it that, did little to stop the seeping cold from the metal bars of my cage. I had begun to wonder if the pain would make me pass out. I couldn’t yet decide if that would be a good or bad thing. My body painfully shook as an almost painfully powerful shiver ran through me, my teeth chattering along. Hours ago, when they had brought me back to my cage, I had started shaking and had yet to stop. Any tears I had were long since spent, but I could feel their salty paths, now crusty on my cheeks. Pain flared, and I choked down a scream before it could flee my throat. Screaming down here was worse than pointless. They always took the screamers first. The steady dripping of my blood echoed loudly in the oppressive silence. My vision dimmed, I began slipping in and out of consciousness. Hours or minutes later, the dungeon door burst open, its loud, ear splitting clang brought me instantly back to alert awareness. If there were no screamers, sleepers were the next to go to the laboratories. Easy to carry I suppose. They would take me again eventually, but in the meantime, I wasn’t exactly lining up for the pleasure. Heavy hobnailed boots pounded down a far off hallway. Without being able to focus past the aching chill, I couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or farther. The sound paused. Someone screamed, and I selfishly thanked the universe that it wasn’t me. My focus, temporarily sharpened by fear, once again began to blur. Time passed, and I sank deep into the darkness, voices whispering all around me.

Chapter 10

A chorus of chirping woke me, the sound filtering in through my window. A small pale sliver of morning light crept through the room as I lay there, letting my brain slowly ramp up activity. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, stretching out my limbs while seriously contemplating going back to sleep. With a groan, grunt and half a sigh, I heaved myself to my feet. I smiled at the lingering warmth in the floor and stooped down to find my slippers. Wrapping my robe around my still clothed body, I moved around the small space, closing the steam valve before putting a bucket of water on the flat top of the valve box to heat. Despite having a plumbed dwelling, I didn’t have room for a shower. One more perk about visiting Raina. She had a gorgeous shower room and what more, she had a tub too. I sighed wistful at the memory of my last soak. I set aside bits of supplies cluttering my small table and cleared space for breakfast. I crouched before my icebox, then stoically took out a rock hard loaf. Cut thin with a few slices of dried bird meat, it was at least nourishing. Wiping the crumbs from my lips, I filled the sink with the steaming water from the bucket. I stripped off the robe and my, still slightly damp, clothes. At least the water was warm this time. Reveling in the warmth I bathed myself, more to chase the lingering chill from my bones than to get clean. After drying myself with my thick towel, I emptied the sink, dried my hair, and dressed in fresh clothes. I stripped my bed, hanging the sheets about the small apartment to warm and dry. After laying out the wet clothes in a similar fashion, I grabbed my spare coat, shrugging it on. Normally I’d be rushing to open the store, but I was unsure if it’d be for the best today. I needed time to clean up from my adventure in Indus. There was also the Cleric’s visit and the hospital’s order to finish. I made up my mind and decided to keep the store closed for another day. Perk of being in charge, I thought with a grin. Sliding into my spare boots, I stumbled downstairs. Perhaps if I were gifted with more magic, I could have taken care of the cold that seemed to rest in my bones. Set warmth that would continue to radiate over hours. Alas for now I just had to grin and bear it. Or scowl and rush about. I grimaced down at the still fragrant pile I’d left last night. I gingerly picked out my knives and their sheaths first. I picked out my coat next and draped it into the now empty metal bucket. The rest of my clothes followed, with my boots set on top. I wrinkled my nose. I had not planned to open the shop today and it seemed more and more like the right decision. Getting this stuff clean would take me a while and I still had the hospital’s monthly order to fill. Not to mention a cleric to amuse. I spent the next hour, mixing up cleaning agents, cleansing each article thoroughly and finally putting a new edge on my crescent moon knife and oiling both it and my wrist knife. It was late morning by the time I finished hanging my freshly cleaned attire in my now toasty apartment.

***

I’d just gotten the excess cleaning solution put away when there was a loud pounding on my door. The Cleric. Heaving a low groan, I pulled on my merchant’s mask on the way to my door. Through the narrow window however was a welcome surprise. A genuine smile spilled across my face. Not because of who it was, but because it wasn’t the Cleric. I unlocked the door to greet the newcomer. Burly arms were folded over a spotless blue vest and gleaming white shirt. A long lilac colored cloak surrounded his wide shoulders. “Magnate William! How are you?” I stepped back, gesturing him into the shop he’d helped finance.

“Good day, Alchemist Vaeronica.” He followed me back into the store, staying by the counter while I went behind. Looking me up and down he commented. “You look well. If a little underfed as always. You need to come for dinner more often!”

An insincere offer, as I’d awkwardly found out. Still, I kept cheer in my voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Is your wife still getting those migraines?”

“No, she stopped wearing that blasted hat and hasn’t had one since.” He shook his head. We both found her fondness of comically large hats amusing. The last one I’d seen her in needed to be folded to fit through a doorway. Neither of us voiced our thoughts about them though. She had a temper and a malicious cunning that carried a toxic bite. “No, I stopped in because I was hoping to get your take on a recent acquisition of mine.” He gently reached into an inner coat pocket, pausing for a moment before withdrawing a palm sized statue which he held out to me.

I took it, casting a mystified look his way, then regarded the object. It was a likeness of a tall woman, wearing not a stich, grasping what appeared to be a sphere of lapis lazuli stone etched stylistically like an eye. She stood, feet together on an etched eight pointed star, holding the stone cradled to her chest, arms wrapped under it. I moved closer to the front window for better light and rotated it in the sunbeams. It was exquisitely crafted, and the orb of blue stone was particularly fetching. I had looked back to William, about to hand it back to him, when a cold chill ran down my spine. Even odder, all at once, every whispering part of me went silent. My eyes shot down to the statue in my hand. The only visibly noticeable change was that my thumb had by chance, slipped over to rest on the orb.

William’s sharp brown eyes caught my moment of shock, his smile fading, he nodded almost to himself. “I had the same reaction. Do you think there’s magic to it?”

I bit my bottom lip then shrugged, “Lets see what I can find out.” Statue in hand, I moved behind my counter. William shifted, possessively hovering as close to the counter as he could. He was a halfway decent man, but at least one of his weaknesses was well known to me. There was a telling glimmer of fevered greed burning in his eyes as he watched me set the statue down. Despite being a master of his profession and holding a chair on the Merchants council, he was obsessed with fixing what he saw as his greatest flaw. His inability to use magic. It didn’t seem to matter to him that most people lacked the ability to use magic. He wanted it, so in his mind there should be someway to make it so. Yet his money couldn’t buy it, nor would his prestigious status grant it. Circe had told me once that his obsession was the only reason, he’d ‘wasted resources’ on me. I picked up the statue, turning it once before placing it before me. My fingers rested on its base. I sent forth my meager magic. It flowed into the statue, a questing tendril. I gasped, and William cursed in surprise, as the core of the blue stone orb glowed brightly. It bloomed into a vibrant deep violet. The color swallowed the stone, then as if still hungry, seemed to eat the light around it. I felt it then. Locked into the stone lay a terrifying reservoir of raw magic. Which shouldn’t be possible. Saying the statue had some magic was like saying the ocean has some water. I jerked my hands back as if burned by the light, staring at William.

He stared back. “Well,” he said gruffly, “what did you sense. I was right wasn’t I. Did you get a sense of what it’s purpose is?”

We continued to stare at each other for a moment while I thought hard about what to say.

“William.” My voice was a soft whisper. “You shouldn’t have this.” The Magh’s Guild would kill for that small stone. Literally. Anyone would if they understood, not only the power it held, but the significance of an artifact that could store raw magic.

He blinked once and then a merchant’s mask of his own slid over his face covering his shock with a hand crafted smile. “Then it was a good purchase apparently.” He reached forward quickly. His was composure betrayed by how greedily he wrested the statue from my hands.

The crushing sense of my own insignificance lingered even after it left my fingers. I envisioned, for a heartbeat, a single cog in an infinite clockwork that twitched causing an endless chain reaction. My disbelieving eyes flicked from William, to the statue. Forget murder. If word of that stone spread, it would spark wars between the few beleaguered cities that still survived in this world. “Scheisse William, by the bloody Maw where did you find that thing?”

He shot me a look before running a hand apprehensively through his hair. “A contact of mine. I’ve more than a few who keep there eyes out for magic artifacts. Those not already horded away by the Church or Magh’s Guild. What can you tell me about it’s purpose?”

What to tell him? What lie would he accept? My unavoidable reaction to it ruled out brushing the statue off as a minor trinket. Telling him it was a steppingstone to deific levels of unimaginable magical power? Might as well kill him now as there was no way Those Above would tolerate his inevitable ambitions. I won’t lie, the thought of attempting to kill him myself did cross my mind at that point. I dismissed it quickly. However selfish his reasons for helping me, it would go against my own ‘code’ to turn on him like this. A lie then. One that would make him wary about getting a second opinion. “Scheisse William.” I fell back against the stairs. “Its, some kind of,” I thought of a reason that might frighten him, “focus implement.” A focus only helped direct raw magic like script or incantations. You needed magical ability to use it. I got the reaction I was hoping for. His merchant’s mask broke and he blanched. I pressed my advantage. “If the Clerics catch you with that, you won’t have to worry about going to the Cog. They’ll fry you in the street.” Unfortunately, William was obsessed enough to jump into a dangerous situation for just about any kind of magic. Like most mundane citizens, he was desperate for even just a taste.

William let out a frustrated breath and paced over to look out the window at the street. We both stewed in silence for a few pregnant moments before he spoke again. “How sure are you of that? Of it’s purpose?”

I quickly gave him a helpless shrug. “I lack training as a magh, so my guess was only instinctual, but that’s all I can give you.” I made sure to sound reluctant and slightly unsure. “I wouldn’t—” I tried to think of a reason that would dissuade him from getting a second opinion on it. Even just another alchemist would be able to tell him what it really was. “William, there’s a possibility it’s a,” Was there any taboo he’d shy from? Perhaps… “there’s a chance it’s a daimon artifact.” Like the flerae, in ancient etchings daimon artificer’s and maghs were renowned for creating fantastical artifacts, so the lie was a plausible one. Who knew, perhaps the thing actually was one.

He visibly tensed but didn’t turn around. “What are you basing that guess on?”

I scrambled to put a solid excuse together. "You are aware I collect books on myths and folktales. This,” I gestured, “figurine has several traits that closely resemble daimon idols.” Daimons were perhaps the only thing that William might fear enough to bury this find.

William spun around. His skin had grown pallid. “I felt, I don’t know,” he hesitated, “something, when I first touched the statue. You know I don’t have magic but holding this statue?” He glanced down at it. “I feel… something Vaeronica. I don’t know what, but I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

He must be able to feel the magical reservoir in it. How that was possible I didn’t know. The academic part of my mind wondered if he could learn to draw from it. I’d never considered it before. It led to other possibilities as well. Since my Alcgel served the same purpose, could it be used by a mundane too? I’d have to look into that.

William let out a frustrated noise. “I thought I saw my chance. As crazy as it sounds, I thought maybe it was my ticket to get magic somehow.”

I was glad he couldn’t see my involuntary reaction to his words. “Is that what your contact told you it’d do?”

He tsked. “No, they just said it was an ancient artifact from a lost city. I just,” his free hand clenched and he turned to look at me, “It was what I always imagined touching raw magic would feel like.”

I stared into his eyes. “You’re right,” his eyes sparked with a flicker of desperate hope before I crushed it, “that’s mental William.” I let that sink in nice and deep. Then I softened my tone. “You know that’s not how magic, or magically enchanted artifacts work. Raw magic can only be stored in the user. Artifacts, like that, only have a specific use, set by their creator.” With the exception of the impossibility, he now held. “Once imbued, any magic is permanently bound to the artifact’s function and cannot be repurposed.” Although that could be a less solid truth than I’d been led to believe too.

“I get the desire, truly I do, but scheisse William. You know where that desire inevitably leads to. Especially with daimons.” Years ago, as a child, William had witnessed the clerics publicly execute the last known daimon summoners. Foreign maghs, unbound to Those Above, had come to the city to mitigate the risk of summoning a being of such immense power. His chilling story had been one of the things deterring me from attempting to make contact myself. The daimon had only left three of the thirty two summoners alive to face judgement. According to William, those three had been happy to die. “You chase that desire, and you’ll end up dead or worse. Circe couldn’t handle that.” I walked over to him, putting a hand on his arm for a moment before pulling back. “I couldn’t either.” I’d say just about anything to grow his trust in me. My sympathy and gesture were a complete lie. I wouldn’t be the least bit heartbroken. In fact, with how our contract was written I’d profit from his death. Yet my personal code bound me to at least try to keep William alive. For now. Until our contract ran out, I felt a compulsion to protect the fool from his greed.

“Thank you, Vaeronica.” He glanced down at the statue briefly, not really focusing on it.

I glanced at the floor and wiped some imaginary dust off my pants, “Are you going to tell your wife?”

I felt his gaze then he sighed too. “Likely not, I don’t want to worry her.” I breathed a bit easier. His wife tended to blab every thought in her head to her socialite friends. I put some space between us.

“What are you going to do with the statue William?” I wanted to offer to keep it for him, for you know security and secrecy, but I didn’t. His particular flavor of greed had a large taint of jealous paranoia attached.

“I’ll lock it away for now, perhaps in my store’s vault.” I nodded sagely. It’d be hard for me to break into but not impossible. “It’s a fair way from home in case the worst happens.”

I pointed out the flaw in his logic. “William, if the worst happens… The clerics will know who owns the store. I don’t think anywhere in the city will be safe enough.” If Those Above learned of the statue, even that wouldn’t be enough.

He froze, then grimly nodded. “Just, do me a favor Vaeronica and keep this between us for now?”

“That’s too bad,” I said, “Here I had been planning to advertise ‘daimon goods sold here’.”

That got a laugh out of him. He stopped when the Cleric walked in.

Chapter 11

“Cleric! Good morning.” Oh no. I smiled at William while retreating around the counter. “It was good to see you again Magnate William. Please come back if your wife’s headaches return.” Time for you to get gone.

William wasn’t slow on the uptake. “I will, and thank you again Alchemist Vaeronica. Take care.” He edged past the Cleric nodding deferentially to him. “Cleric, may your day be sun filled.”

Thankfully, the Cleric seemed uninterested in him. “And the same to you Magnate.” He waited until the door closed behind William before stepping deeper into the store. “Alchemist Vaeronica, “he said with a smile, “how has your morning been so far?”

Great, until you came. Better if you keeled over suddenly. “Uneventful Cleric, “ Dratu? Dazu? Dammu? No, wait it was, “Dathu. Were you out late after I left you?”

He grunted. “Not too many hours after I saw you.” He approached the counter. “I would have been in here earlier, but I was delayed with paying the Alchemist’s Guild a visit.”

Training alone kept my merchant’s mask from slipping. “I see, visits there do tend to drag on. Were they able to provide any insight on your investigation?” Did they tell you I was an unhinged hack who likely was responsible for everything wrong with this city?

“No. They were frustratingly vague with their answers.” His eyes narrowed. “I’d thought, given how obsessed alchemists are with record keeping, that they would be able to give me a more complete picture of Alchemist Krutov and what the possible focus of his research could have been.”

I nearly laughed with relief. Adopting a reluctant look and tone I leaned closer to the Cleric. “Usually yes, most Alchemists are tracked fairly closely by the Guild. Their ingredient purchases, potion sales, funding grant requests and that sort of thing. You should even be able to see all their past research papers. Alchemist Krutov though…” I let the bait hang between us.

“Yes? What was special about him Alchemist Vaeronica?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I’m not exactly the best person to be asking about this, but Alchemist Krutov may have had a little less, oversight. Not unexpected when you are childhood friends with the Overseer of the Guild.”

His eyebrows shot up. “The Council conveniently left out that bit of information.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop. “That helps to shed more light on some of their responses to my inquiries.” The drumming stopped. “They certainly had some interesting things to say about you.”

I winced behind my merchant’s mask. Of course they did. “There are some events that have strained my relationship with my Guild. As you already know, my early graduation caused some tension that has only worsened over time.”

“On a normal day I might advise you to correct your behavior and work toward a better standing with your guild.” Correct my behavior? I really wanted to stab him. “After spending the morning with the council however, I’m more inclined to think that it is they, who need to correct their behavior.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They bicker like children and argued about the most insignificant of details.”

I nodded sympathetically but grinned behind my mask. Like engineers and lawyers, alchemists enjoyed debates. Completely opposite to a Cleric’s world view of, follow or else…

The Cleric straightened and crossed the room to the window that looked out over the busy ring road. The symbol on the back of his coat laughed smugly at me. Feeling my anger shift in its sleep, I looked away quickly. “I’m encountering an unusual amount of resistance in this investigation Alchemist Vaeronica. If I am being completely honest, I must admit that the lack of cooperation is beginning to grate on my nerves.” He turned back around, feeling his gaze fix on me I looked back at him. “Help me Alchemist Vaeronica, what am I missing? Where would you seek answers if you were in charge?”

I sneered to myself, careful not to show it. Help him? I’d gladly help him over the side of a safety rail. Yet I needed to act wisely here. Ingratiating myself with the Cleric would serve me better than deepening his suspicions by being evasive. I put a considering look on my face. I bit my lower lip, my sight dropping to the counter. As I prepared a plausible lie, another idea blinked into being. A subtle yet simple plan. I could send the Cleric chasing the threads that I already knew led nowhere. Perhaps even use him to touch the ones that had been out of reach. “I am not sure what use my ideas will be Cleric, Dathu, as you’ve already surpassed my knowledge of Alchemist Krutov by examining the contents of his private lab.” He frowned, but I quickly continued. “However, have you had any luck in questioning his apprentices that preceded me?”

He looked thoughtful. “His other apprentices? It’s a good idea, I’d considered the same. Unfortunately, it seems that because they never became alchemists, their records were expunged. I was told that no one on the Council knew what became of them.”

I snorted out loud. “While I’m confident the Council doesn’t know what happened to the people themselves, there is an entire archive room devoted to the records of students who failed to graduate. The Guild has a vested interest in who failed and why. There’s likely been funded research to determine what common factors they shared.” I raised my chin. “If their records aren’t there, its because someone with authority had them removed.”

The Cleric came closer, his voice low. “I assume you’re referring to the Overseer. Why would he feel the need to remove them? Is an apprentice’s graduation not solely up to the mentor’s judgement?”

“Officially yes. There is, however, the known yet unspoken option of appealing to the Council and Overseer in the event of extenuating situations.”

“What would count as an extenuating situation?”

I smiled grimly at him. “Say for instance, an unscrupulous mentor decides its useful to have an unpaid apprentice who does all their work for them. If they lacked an ethical code, they might decide to put off their apprentice’s graduation. Permanently.”

The Cleric looked disgusted. “And if this unscrupulous mentor was the good friend of the Overseer, any appeals to the Council would likely be in vain.”

I nodded grimly. “Just so. Yet I’d imagine that the Overseer wouldn’t want any concrete records of this abuse hanging around in the archives. You never know when someone might,” I gestured to him, “investigate.”

The cleric grunted and shook his head sadly. “As ugly a picture as that paints, it still leaves me without any way to know who the apprentices were or where they are now. Unless…” He hedged.

I bobbed my head. Now for the risky part. I rolled the dice. “Unless you know someone who kept in touch with one of them.” I shrugged a shoulder. “While I don’t know where most of them are, my predecessor is employed at a Clinic in Indus.” It was a gamble, bringing Valetin to the Clerics attention. I did it for three reasons. First, I didn’t think Valetin would stick around to talk to the Cleric. Two, his involvement with the Ash Family meant he wouldn’t be found if Gentleman Jack didn’t want him to be. Those two meant the Cleric would be wasting his time, while I appeared to be devoutly helping like a good little citizen. Lastly, there was a chance that Valetin might feel pressured into talking to me again. The last one was a long shot, but a woman could hope.

The Cleric clapped his hands, pleased. “It’s at the very least, an avenue I haven’t investigated yet.” He smiled at me. “Thank you, Vaeronica.” My pleasure, monster. “We will revisit Alchemist Krutov’s former residence today and head down to find this Clinic tomorrow.”

Wait, what? We? No, no, no. “I apologize Cleric, there may have been some miscommunication between us. I had thought to provide you with a map with the Clinic’s location and forgive me, but what use would I be to you at this secret laboratory? I doubt there is much that I would find that you have not already.” Come on Cleric, take the false flattery and leave me to whisper at you from the shadows.

“While there is little chance you will uncover anything new, simply having another person’s perspective will add to my understanding of this mystery. Having that person be not only a peer of Krutov’s, but his apprentice too? We may surprise each other with what you uncover.” He smiled broadly at me.

I wanted to throw something at him. “Your praise is generous Cleric, yet there is also the issue that I have an order I’ve yet to fulfill for the local hospital. I would put it off however my deadline is end of day tomorrow and I’ll need the rest of today and tomorrow to complete my work.” I would need four to five hours tops. I just didn’t want to spend any more time with the Cleric than I absolutely had to. Every moment tested my control and I certainly didn’t want to be galivanting around the city with him!

He arrogantly waved my concerns aside. “Request an extension from the hospital, you may use my name. If they take issue with it, I will explain the situation to them. My investigation takes precedence over everything else.”

How magnanimous. “I, well, thank you. Cleric.” I tried to come up with some other excuse not to go with him. Everything I thought of sounded suspicious even in my head. We stood there staring at one another for a moment, awkwardly.

“You should grab your coat,” He cleared his throat and looked away, “Vaeronica, the air is cool today.”

That was the second time he’d dropped my honorific, suggesting a familiarity we didn’t have or a blatantly rude distain for me. It was obviously the latter and that wasn’t fair. I couldn’t exactly return like for like, or just kick him out of my store. What had I done to deserve it in the first place? He was getting what he wanted. A slash of anger cut my mind, but with some effort I kept it from waking the great pit deeper inside. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. I’d kill them all one day. Firming the foundations of my merchant’s mask, I aimed it’s smile at him. “It’s just upstairs. I’ll be back in just a moment.” I took the stairs two at a time, yanking my spare coat off the hook hard enough to make the air snap. It was only under the wildest delusions that the Cleric would stumble across something in the seconds I was away. I still hurried though, running back down.

Chapter 12

Only two mercs waited outside this time. One had to wonder why he had any at all. In all my clandestine research on them, only three Clerics were known or at least rumored to have died of unnatural causes inside the city walls. One on the docks in Indus, where the large icicles in summer had clearly pointed to a foreign magh’s involvement. Foreign because magh’s in our city were bound by Those Above to do no harm to their precious Clerics. The second cleric died in Noblesse, in an unfortunate autocart accident. Even the best healing magic had its limits. The third was only a rumor and a whispered one at that. Supposedly a cleric had thought to ‘cleanse’ Gentleman Jack Ash from the city. Supposedly no one had seen the cleric since. I’d have paid a fortune to know the truth behind that story. I studied the two mercs as we left the ring road. Maybe they were just there to give the walking Gutter filth a sense of importance. The Cleric led us the same route as I’d taken just the day before. As contrary as it sounds, the trip was too long, and we arrive too quickly. I stared at the silvery walls of the grand house with trepidation. Traffic flowed normally past the house today and there was only one merc posted at the door. I completely missed the more physical changes to the place until we passed a window. It’s frame only clasped jagged broken shards of glass. They had been intact, yesterday hadn’t they? I thought back to the Cleric’s net of mercenaries on the landing last night. Had something happened? The merc saluted as we approached. She had the door unlocked and open for the Cleric before he got close. He strolled past her without so much as a nod. I was at least polite enough to dip my head when I went by. Krutov’s foyer, or former foyer I thought grinning to myself, was large enough for the four of us to stand comfortably in. The door closed behind us though, and I was suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

“You two stay here. If you will come with me Alchemist Vaeronica.” The Cleric strode through the door on the other side of the entry room.

In the next room the ceiling stretched up four stories. A single staircase wound its way up with straight flights between landings. The metal under my boots reflected my distorted figure back at me as I tailed the Cleric across the room. He didn’t take the stairs, instead crossing to a door on our left. As soon as he hefted it open, the smell of smoke and a myriad of other burnt things assaulted my nose. The back of the door and most of the room beyond was charred. My mind began cataloguing the ambient information autonomously. Combustion. Blackening appeared to be from a paint, polish, or wax. The floor hadn’t suffered any serious deformation however, which allowed me to estimate at least an approximate temperature range.

The Cleric closed the door behind me. “You’ll have to ignore the stench Vaeronica, unfortunately the laboratory is even worse.”

I guess we were back to being rude now that we were somewhat alone. “I don’t really mind the scents fire leaves behind.”

He had the nerve to laugh. “I suppose your job would be unbearable if you did.”

I ignored the comment. “What happened here? Did this happen when the lab was opened?” I knew that it likely hadn’t. I’d put money on it having occurred yesterday, thankfully when I had been in Indus. I wondered if that was why the Cleric seemed to trust me a little more today.

“No,” Was the Clerics terse reply as he crossed the blackened floor to the remains of a bookcase, “this was done after my initial inspection of the laboratory.” I eyed the ceiling before following him. The metal frame of the bookcase was split in numerous places. Its metal panels curled as if hit with a giant hammer. What I found curious was how it appeared the metaphorical hammer had hit it more than once. I didn’t say anything but made a mental note. The low and abnormally thin open doorway that the Cleric gestured me through had slightly curved sides. My boots scuffed over a track set in the floor as I stepped through. Secret door behind a sliding bookcase? Amateur. I stopped to give the room a structural check first before going too far in. If a sympathetic explosion or multiple fulminating devices had detonated in here, who knew how safe it was. On Comra, one was wise to be wary of the floor falling out from underfoot. I was about to stomp down when a large hand landed on my back. I jumped away. It hadn’t landed hard, but it had settled with a disturbing firmness. My strained merchant’s mask broke, and I gave the Cleric a wild look. How dare he touch me!

The monster had the nerve to chuckle. “On edge Vaeronica? Apologies for the scare but I need a bit of room to get through this tight opening.”

I couldn’t help but notice how exposed his neck was as he wedged his large body through. I clenched my hands at my sides. “No worries, Cleric, Dathu. I must admit I do find this place… disconcerting.” Especially with you here.

He finished pulling himself through. I was perversely pleased that he couldn’t stand up straight in here and was forced to hunch over. Finally, something had bent that stiff neck. “Please take a look around and tell me what you see.”

Settling the hatred back to sleep I took in the finer details of Krutov’s hidden laboratory. There wasn’t much left. The blasts had reduced most of the former contents to piles of twisted scrap metal. Originally, it looked as though a workbench had taken up the far wall. A drawered cabinet had stood on the left. On the right there were broken pieces of slate and glass all jumbled together. I walked over and toed it with my boot. One piece in particular caught my eye. I bent to retrieve it.

“Have you found something Vaeronica?”

I studied the shard. “What did you make of these?” I held the glass up. A few neatly etched script symbols marched across it in a line.

The Cleric made a noise in his throat. “Nothing an alchemist should have had.” I heard him approach and shifted so he wasn’t at my back. He crouched beside me and picked up another piece of the scripted glass. “In the ancient past, before the holy Ma’at safeguarded this world,” Oh please no, “there were, lets call them, doorways to the other worlds.” Portals, I wanted to correct him. Portals to other universes. “It was from these other worlds that primordial evils first came to our world.” My shoulders wanted to slump. With great inner strength I managed to not only keep them firm, but also keep the pity and distain from breaking through my merchant’s mask. He’d apparently decided to share the Church’s edited version of our history with me. Since I wasn’t supposed to know anything about it, I was forced to listen to the censured gutter slop. His voice was so earnestly grave. “Not all were malicious, for instance the long lived beings we’ve come to know of as flerae, came from one of these strange worlds, yet even they looked down upon those they found here.” His eyes flared. “All these foreign entities thought themselves superior and enslaved those they thought beneath them. Hume and dwarf alike.” I decided against pointing out the hypocrisy of anyone in this city getting angry at that when slavery was alive and well here. “Then the holy Ma’at saw this injustice and interceded. Our oppressors were driven back to their own worlds and the doorways between were closed and sealed shut.” Except not all had left, a fact that was so clearly evident it made me wonder if the Church had put any thought into their version at all. “The holy Ma’at sent Those Above to guide us and together, they have to this day, kept the worlds separate.” With the exception of summoning, I wanted to add. The Cleric lazily spun the glass between his fingers. “You must promise me Vaeronica, that what I’ve told you and what I am about to reveal will stay between us. This is occult knowledge closely guarded by the Church.”

I nodded solemnly. “I will not speak a word of it.” I could say that much with utter certainty. Not even under torture would I repeat the tripe he’d just spewed.

“I believe this,” He gestured to the debris at our feet, “was once part of a device that could be used to pass communication between worlds.”

I couldn’t help myself. “How is such a thing possible, wouldn’t such magic be blocked by Those Above?” I said, with feigned breathless horror. Acting aside, I did find the possibility of such a device intriguing. My research had said that the mythical portals had been made by beings with far greater magical ability than those alive today. With the exception of Those Above perhaps. Even summoning, plucking a single being from another universe and bringing it here, took multiple maghs or clerics. Not that any cleric would do such a blasphemous working. If Krutov, an Alchemist, had not only created a means of trans-universal communication, but used it by himself… My mind spun with the array of possibilities such a thing might unlock for me.

“—kin, yet not all the records survived.” I’d been so enthralled I’d missed what the Cleric had been saying. “You didn’t see him with something like that, or see any etchings of a similar nature?”

“No, nothing.” I covered, hoping it was a sufficient answer.

“Pity. He must have made it here and kept even its construction secret.”

Hope lifted my mood. If this communication device had been what started his investigation, my Alcgel might not be connected to all this. I looked down at the broken bits. “Was it like this when you first discovered the laboratory?”

The Cleric grunted. “Yes. The blast scattered the pieces, but thankfully not out of this room.” He glowered back at the door. “The fewer people who know what profanities happened in here the better.” He got to his feet and swept an arm out. “The explosion that happened in here, what can you tell me about it?”

I shifted back on my heels. “I would estimate there was more than one. Their destruction was concentrated in this room.” I pointed on hand to the room’s door and the other at the floor. “Just strong enough to bust the furniture, but not the hardier structural components.” I rose, moving past him to look out the door. “I’d say there is a good chance that the second, or possibly third, device was of a slightly different design.”

“Why do you think that?” He said tonelessly.

I cast a glance at him. I hadn’t had to explain my reasoning so much since my days at the Academy. “The extent of the burn marks in the outer room and the impact it made on the bookcase.” It’s also the way I would have done it. “The explosions were set in this room. Then the bookcase was closed. The first goes off. More force than flash or fire. The bookcase is blown open in time for the second. This one more fire than force.” Destroy any containers then burn the contents. Simple, but effective means of cleaning up secrets.

The Cleric, looking thoughtful, nodded a few times. “Such a theory fits with my other reports on what happened.” He fixed me with a penetrating stare. “Can you tell for certain if the cause was magic, alchemy or conventional explosives?”

“No.” I snorted without thinking. I quickly added, “Not for sure at any rate. Magic or alchemy could have absolutely done this. Conventional explosives can’t be ruled out either, as the initial blast could have set off other things in the room, creating a sympathetic fulmination.”

“Is there anyway to narrow it down? What would your guess be Vaeronica?”

Oh yes, since rudeness is such a great motivator. I peeled off a glove carefully and rubbed the back of my neck, buying time to judge how truthful I should be. “Maybe, is my answer to your first question. There must be some magical form of divination that could narrow down the possibilities, but you’d know more about that than I.”

“No, I’ve exhausted the options available to me and I won’t bring in a magh until I know more about…” He drifted off shooting a weird look my way.

My stomach sank. He’d told me their trashy secret history, but he wouldn’t even speak of, whatever he’d been thinking of? What was worse to him than communicating across universes? I wanted to seize the monster by his shiny white lapels. Shake him and demand to know what had brought about such an intense investigation. I hid my shaking hands by busying them with putting my glove back on. Considering my task here done I started for the doorway.

“Your guess Vaeronica, what do you think caused this?”

I leaned my back against the doorframe. I wanted to give a frustratingly unhelpful reply, but if I was getting dragged down to Indus with him tomorrow… “I would put my coin on alchemy above magic or conventional.” He raised an eyebrow and I held back an exasperated sigh. “I’d imagine a magh could destroy the contents of the room in a more, elegant manner.” Then I spoke from my heart. “And anyone who decides to oppose the Church would be an idiot to leave such cleanup to unreliable mundane explosives.” I slid into the next room before he could reply. I needed out. I needed air. Thankfully, the Cleric followed me back to the mercs in the foyer without a word. We left right away and although I was glad to be outside, he ruined the reprieve by making awkward small talk all the way back to my store. Not wanting him to follow me inside I stopped and turned to him a little way from the door. “Um, what, time did you want to head down? And did you want to meet here, or shall I take the stairs and meet you at the Aiera Indus landing?”

The Cleric raised an imperious hand to me and turned to the mercs. “That will be all for the day, you are dismissed.” They gave him a brief salute, leaving quickly. They probably didn’t enjoy his company any more than I. The Cleric seemed to relax his shoulders a little, then the corners of his mouth curled up. “We will not be taking the stairs, Vaeronica.” He said with a hint of humor. “I will come by here, midday let’s say. We will take one of the lifts down. You didn’t expect me to tromp down the staircase, did you?”

No why would I ever expect him to humiliatingly lower himself to the standards of my life. “Of course not, Cleric, of course not.” I cleared my throat and continued apologetically. “I, would it be, possible for me to meet you down there? The lift price is a bit…”

His laugh grated on me. “Don’t worry about that Vaeronica. Those travelling with me will have the cost waived.” He straightened and almost seemed to puff up a little. “Also please lay at rest any fears of the miscreants that lurk in Indus. They will not dare to so much as utter a harsh word at you. Not with me at your side.”

Oh, thank you so much, big strong Cleric. How did little old me ever survive in a place like Indus before you came into my life? I must have dreamt the years I’d managed it on my own. As a child no less. “That eases my misgivings about the trip greatly thank you Cleric, Dathu.”

“Glad to hear that Vaeronica. Until tomorrow then.” He half turned, then turned back. “I almost forgot. What sector is this Clinic in?”

“Aiera, Cleric. At the edge of the farms.”

There was a minute tensing, but he didn’t comment on it. He just nodded. “Have a good night Vaeronica.” With that he left.

Chapter 13

Getting roped into the Cleric’s trip would delay my other plans. I’d hoped to keep making my own progress while the Cleric chased a dead lead. With my gamble backfiring so spectacularly, I would need some specialty potions. Some more Hālitūs de Vesuvius, the potion I’d given Hennso, wouldn’t go amiss if the Cleric found out just how deeply I was entangled in his investigation. I had most of what I’d need to make more, but I was low on a few common ingredients. A shopping trip then. Trade being the lifeblood of this sector, it wouldn’t take me long to gather what I’d need. Perhaps preluded by a quick stop at the hospital. It wasn’t strictly necessary but the personal touch of an in person visit would hopefully calm my acquaintance there. He had a tendency to stress over unexpected schedule changes. After dipping into my shop to retrieve the coin I’d need, I lingered, purse in hand, as I debated bringing my blades. That sense last night, of being watched, decided things for me. Even if it was only a short trip, better prepared than not. The strength and healing potions I’d taken yesterday were sitting on the counter, so I slipped them in my inner pockets. I also bent to the vaults under the counter. I opened the vault on the right this time. From it, I grabbed two potions. Glass vials, with red shifting smoke sealed inside. They weren’t the deterrent that Hālitūs de Vesuvius was. They would, however, cover my escape if I ran into trouble. I also took out a small metal vial of a nifty frog poison I’d recently refined. Forethought and all that. I thought about bringing an orb of Fulminating Quicksilver but decided that was a little overkill for a shopping trip. Dangerous to carry as well. I quickly closed up and slipped out onto the streets. It was, if nothing else, a lovely day for a walk. The sun was beginning to warm the city and a slight breeze brought some fresh air in off the ocean. I filled my lungs, savoring the hint of crisp saltiness. Moving with the thick pedestrian traffic I tried to keep my mind clear and in the present moment. Thoughts of current events kept intruding though. Depressing thoughts. Not to mention the lingering itch on the back of my neck. I rolled my shoulders, inanely trying to get rid of the sensation. While I wouldn’t put it past the Cleric to have me followed, he’d use mercs to do it. Great fighters mercs. Lousy sneaks. I would have seen them by now. So, who did that leave? Whoever had blown up Krutov’s place and the Gentry. If they weren’t one and the same. Did Valetin collaborate with Krutov? Perhaps the Ash Family backed the project? Under those circumstance I could buy the Gentry covering their tracks. But with an explosion? I didn’t know them well but from what I’d heard they were more knife in the shadow types. Furthermore, why would Valetin ever assist Krutov? Unless under duress, the only thing I could see Valetin helping him with was suicide. I gave my head a shake, clearing my mental slate. Facts first. Valetin and the Ash Family were linked and on seemingly good terms. Krutov had been working on something that warranted a Cleric’s involvement. Krutov’s place had been purified by an unknown party. I held the array in my mind. If I’d been marked when I stupidly went up on that rooftop, or when I’d tailed Valetin, I could see the Gentry being curious enough to put someone on me. That was the good option. Not great, but I might at least expect them to give me a warning before they killed me. The worst would be whoever had destroyed Krutov’s place. Whoever had done that hadn’t cared about incidental casualties. I growled softly to myself. When you boiled the facts down, all I knew for certain was that I had too little to go on and had drawn far too much attention. If only I could be sure how deeply involved, I really was. It was looking more and more like magic was going to be my only option if I wanted to find the truth. That meant surviving until the Alcgel was ready. No problem. Just had to keep dodging invisible foes long enough to contact a dangerous entity that may or may not give me answers before it tried to kill me. Easy.

***

Arriving at the sector hospital I crossed the small courtyard to its twin set of double doors. With a polite nod to the bored looking mercs stationed outside, I mounted the steps and hauled on one of the large steel doors. As if in competition with the cacophony of the street outside, the waiting area was a blaring pool of noise. Thankfully I wasn’t here with an injury. I moved to the far right of the room, carefully maneuvering around the hurt and the wounded. A thin door, doing it’s best to be overlooked, was squeezed between the corner and a plaque that read “Deliveries Only”. Slipping through it, I almost sighed with relief when the noise dropped to a dull roar. Hurrying up the hallway I knocked hard on the first door.

“Enter!” A deep voice bellowed from inside.

Letting out a small burst of breath, I slipped on my merchant’s mask, and did as the voice commanded.

“Alchemist Vaeronica!” The rotund man behind the desk bellowed. “Better late than never I suppose.”

Resisting the urge to wince, I reinforced the smile on my face. I decided to lead with a reminder. “Citizen Douglas, you know you’re my most important customer.” I said coating the words in honey. “Not only do I give you only the best potions, but I also deliver ahead of our agreed upon due date.”

The dwarf eyed me suspiciously. “Both things you know I’m well aware of.” He ran his eyes over me. “Unless you’re hiding them under that coat, I don’t see this month’s delivery though.”

“Correct. I would have been here with them on the same day as usual, but a visit from a Cleric has delayed me.”

He sighed and slumped back. “Nothing serious, I hope. You aren’t in any trouble are you Alchemist Vaeronica?”

“No, of course not.” I brightened the smile on my merchant’s mask. “Merely some technical questions and, my expertise on an investigation of his.”

“That’s remarkably interesting! Good for you, drumming up such prestigious work, but, and do forgive my language, what in the Maw does it have to do with my order?” He scowled. “This is leading to you asking for a bloody extension isn’t it.” He raised a hand when I opened my mouth to reply. “Ah no,” He heaved a sigh and rubbed his head, “That was a bit harsh, forgive me.” He gestured to himself. “I get that as a small store, things come up and we all dance to the Church’s beat. However, I answer to people who care very much about three things. Cost, quality, and punctuality. If there are frequent irregularities to your deliveries, they’ll question why I don’t switch to another supplier. Even if that means buying supplies from another sector. They’ll favor an outfit who’s big enough to meet our demands without incident.”

I barely managed to keep the disdain off my face. “You mean someone in better standing with the alchemist’s guild.”

“No. Yes but no. I meant a place with more than one alchemist.”

I took a few steps closer to him, lowering my voice slightly. “You know the bigger suppliers have apprentices mix their healing potions. Costly to waste a graduated alchemist’s time with such work. The half that aren’t fouled by the wrong ingredients are as weak as a magnate’s morals. Need I remind you it’s half the reason you gave me a chance in the first place?”

He shot me a reproachful look. “Magnate William’s referral was the reason I gave you a shot. However,” he held his hand up to halt my objections, “I’ll grant you that your potions never fail us like the old ones were wont to do. They’re also strong as a dire beast’s spit. That said,” his face grew stern, “if you can’t keep up with our orders, those above me won’t care about any of that.”

Message received, I was on the wrong side of the walls and the dire beasts were hungry. “That won’t be a problem Citizen Douglas. I don’t need an extension anyway.” I said, unable to filter the haughty tone out of my voice. “I simply wanted to inform you that you’ll be receiving the delivery, on,” I stressed the word, “the due date this month. Not before, as I commonly do.”

With a slight bow, I left it at that and all but ran from his office. He called out, but I was so done with playing the submissive merchant for today. Leaving the ring road that encircled the hospital and the support pillar it rested on, I took the bridge street heading west.

Chapter 14

The Inner East Plaza spanned between two of the city’s support pillars. Hanging where a bridge street would normally be strung, the massive open air market thrummed with activity. Buildings ringed the edges of the market that touched the pillars, but apart from those few exceptions, the majority of merchants here plied their trade from stalls and carts. Despite the impressive engineering beneath, the floor of the market vibrated from the heavy traffic it supported. Pleasant scents mingled with the moist smell of the thick crowd. Having entered from the north, I had worked my way south judicially buying the supplies I would need. More than once I had to pass on some great deals, sternly reminding myself to stick to the shopping list in my head. Hours passed in a swirl of faces and haggling. The afternoon had grown old when I stopped to watch an animated puppet show entertaining a crowd of kids. Brightly tailored puppets of rodents and birds cavorted across a small stage, minor magic guiding them. I thought of how Raina’s kids would be over the moon with such entertainment. With a wistful smile I moved on. Maybe one day I’d have the coin to bring that kind of entertainment to the Undercity. If I could survive that long. The feeling of being watched hadn’t gone away and I was starting to get twitchy. I’d begun randomly changing directions, subtly peering into every reflective surface, and waiting around corners. All in vain. If it wasn’t just my paranoia playing with me, whoever they were had luck and experience. When I reached the first of the buildings on the southern end of the market, I all but ran inside. Even if it was only temporary, I needed to shed the scrutinizing sensation. Figures the store wouldn’t be selling anything I actually needed. After assuring one of the attendants that I was only perusing, I wandered about discreetly keeping an eye on the entry way. Martial weapons of a thousand differing types were lovingly displayed with ridiculous price tags attached. Raina probably would have been gushing over their fine craftsman ship. Oh, she wouldn’t buy any, having long tread a different path in life, but she sure hadn’t lost her appreciation for an artfully crafted sword or mace. I briefly wondered if I could steal her away for an afternoon to come here. The farther back I went the less impressive the selection got. They’d obviously kept the good stuff out front. I was moving back that way when I noticed a stairway with a sign advertising more goods upstairs. The feeling of being watched had gone away so I was torn. Hide out for a bit longer, or be on my way? With a shrug I decided that as long as I was already here, I might as well have a look. Raina would like hearing about it at the very least. On the second floor there were no more weapons, instead this level seemed devoted to armor and other assorted protective gear. An open layout, I immediately saw that I wasn’t alone. Across the displays in the center of the room, I met a piercing gaze. Stunning vibrant blue eyes captured me. In them, oceanic waves clashed against glacial cliffs and I was caught between the two. Pounded apart under her unwavering stare. The struggle to collect my wits was a grueling feat. When I finally managed to pull free, I inhaled sharply. Gasping, as the air in my lungs had died while I’d been drowning in those vibrant eyes. It dawned on me that I’d been staring at their owner for a while now. Blood heating my cheeks I snapped my head down to the nearest item and shuffled over to it. Smooth move Vaeronica. I peered hard at the shiny coat of chainmail in front of me, not really seeing it at all. All I saw was her, burned into my mind like the sight of the sun. What was wrong with me? And how long should I pretend to keep staring at this chainmail? I reached out and gave the links a perfunctory pat. Deeming that gesture sufficient, I wandered left to where rows of polished shields hung on the wall. It put the woman behind and to my right, diagonally across the room from me. I knew I was being cowardly, but that didn’t stop me from finding the shield with the most reflective surface. For some reason I was feeling defensive and insecure. Peering into the polished steel like a mirror I risked a peek at the woman. The view was warped, but clear. I relaxed a little at seeing that she’d turned aside to look at something else. I almost laughed with relief and self derision. Even knowing her focus was elsewhere, it still took me a moment to brace myself before I risked a quick glance over my shoulder. She stood in profile, looking down. I had the inane thought that the sight would make a great portrait. Her features were strong, the slightly curved lines of her face refined, but bolder than my own. Thick, jet black hair, was bound back in a rough braid that hung forward over her far shoulder. Its tip rested on the lapel of her tooled leather coat. Not keen to get caught gawking, I turned my gaze back to the metal in front of me. My attention remained on her though. Beside her alluring looks, there was something, foreign, about her. Atypical, different, or unique might be better terms. It was hard to pin down the sensation. Attempting to get my mind off her, I tried to concentrate on the contents of the room. It wasn’t exactly easy. I either lacked the focus or the interest to care overly much. The pieces were… likely functional, but I had no use for a suit of plate or even metal gauntlets. One piece did successfully catch my attention though. The corner of it had caught my eye, buried as it had been under a set of scale armor. I extracted the captivating piece, holding it up in the light. It was a metal mask. Faceplate might be the proper term. I’d have to remember to ask Raina. Made of some black alloy, it had been inlaid with whorls and twists of polished steel. No. That was silver. I was running my fingers over the raised whorls, when a scream rose over the usual market clamor. The fear filled kind that demanded attention. I strode over to the street facing window, noting from the corner of my eye that the other woman had done the same. In the mill of people, it took me a moment to pinpoint the cause of the shrieking. Three figures in drab everyday clothes caught my eye. I wouldn’t have paid them any mind if we’d been down in Indus. Here amidst the rich colors and complicated outfits that were the latest fashion in Comra, they stood out like a hume in a dwarven crowd. I searched their surroundings, my eyes racing through the crowd to locate what had panicked them. That’s when I picked out other irregularities amongst the market throng. Four, no, eight figures in dark brown cloaks, moved in increasingly wide bubbles of space as they closed in on the three from Indus. Four were coming toward where I was, from the north. The other four were coming from the south, effectively trapping the three who had shouted and whom I could only assume were the prey in this hunt. I studied the closest brown cloaked figure. I knew well the look of slavers. Too undisciplined to be mercs. Too cruel to be anything else. I bit my lip. They had to be some sort of sanctioned recovery team. The slavers that operated illegally stayed in Indus, where they could afford to bribe the mercs to look away. The poor, the homeless, the unwanted and the undesirable were their bread and butter down there. Those who were vulnerable. Few of those people, if any, came up to Comra. Not to mention the mercs up here were a lot harder, or at least more expensive, to bribe. That meant this group in brown cloaks could only be targeting run away slaves. Had those three, I assumed they were women from their figures, thought they could escape? Without considerable help, it was a fool’s errand. Hard to get someone to listen to you once a collar went around your neck, and all too easy for reclamation teams like this one to find you no matter how far you ran. With a morbid fascination, I watched the drama play out. I had a good idea of how this one would end. The drab quarry, feeling the trap closing, sped up into a broken jog, shoving people out of their way. On a gut feeling I searched the area again. This time for the mercenaries. The public, even here on the Comra level, got queasy seeing people being dragged off in slave collars like animals. Captives that cried and screamed or worse, who looked like they fit in, made the masses suddenly squeamish about everyday slavery they could normally ignore. Since it just wouldn’t do for these gentle folks to be bothered by such things, the slavers would work with mercs when in Comra, or so Raina had told me. So, where were they? I cocked my head. For that matter, where were the mercs who’d normally patrol the market? The throng pulled back from the cause of the commotion. Already I could see the crowd redefining the lines of us and them. The poorly dressed Indus people were of course firmly in the ‘them’ party. With the sudden absence of people, the young women could see the slavers ringing them. Backs to one another, the three held hands in the center of the growing void of people. The tallest said something, lost to the wind before I could make it out. Whatever she said, it elected a nasty laugh from the slavers closest to them. One of whom held up an etching sheet. Most likely it stated whatever excuse was being used to turn people into commodities. It was just added fluff at this point. The collars glinting around the women’s necks had already condemned them in the eyes of the onlookers. I myself, had begun to turn away, ready to head back to the shop and distance myself from this ordinary tragedy. As cold as it may seem, the practice was a symptom of a larger disease. An inelegant, sloppily engineered, malfunctioning system. Scenes like this occurred hourly in Indus. It was only from the corner of my eye that I saw one of the slavers move in for the capture. As I turned though, a floral scent hit me. Permeating the air, the gentle, comforting smell grew incrementally stronger as the overall noise of the crowd dropped. I stiffened as I recognized the subtle magic for what it was. The entombed fury inside me stilled like a predator that’d found prey. Since when did slavers have the money to hire a magh? One that had some power and skill too, as even the shouts of merchants hawking dropped to the murmur of polite conversation. Something about this stank and it wasn’t the nice flowery smell. Caught up in my thoughts, I recognized too late the subtle danger this particular magic posed to me. Like a mist in my mind, the insidious magic sought to relax me, lull me into apathy. It only partially succeeded. In the ephemeral landscape of my mind, the avatar of my consciousness slumped over. The mass of chains she sat atop, mental restraints I had painstakingly created, writhed. A resounding crack tore across my mind. Beneath the chains, the seal on my bottomless pit of hate, shattered like glass. A cloud of malice, rage, and wrath slammed into the underside of the chains. Sensing a chance to be freed from the darkest depths of my mind. A chance to act on the world it so despised. With the magic weakening my will, I was forced to watch as the seething hatred inside surged outwards. A spectator in my own mind. The chains that had crisscrossed the cover snapped and ran, as the mass of violent emotions ballooned against them. The dark cloud like mass strained, bulging obscenely through the gaps between the interweaving web of chains that symbolized my control over it. A few links in the chain broke and the strands of chain ran across one another. Each link rang over the others like a chime, culminating in a chaotic symphony. There was a momentary pause. Fast, fleeing, and then gone. The chains thrashed like a dire beast, and the still form of my avatar was tossed into the air. Out in the world, inside the store, my chest constricted, and I froze mid turn. This, this was not good. With a final metallic cry, the net of chains was torn asunder. The misty magic that had been cheerfully going about its job of making me complacent, was engulfed in an explosion of malice and rage. The overpoweringly raw emotions began flooding through me. Out of sane options, I uselessly tried to bargain with the dark cloud of hatred. There’s nothing I can do I pleaded to myself. Its not my place. We can just look the other way. But the images of broken bodies and cries of pain kept flooding my reality, tearing me from the store I stood in. Memories. Leeching from the tendrils of the dark cloud that I’d long imprisoned. They clawed their way out of my past, to obscure the present. They dragged me, screaming, into the ground and far below. Slaves get collars. The collared get cages and darkness. The caged get torn apart by smiling Clerics. Sundered in body, mind, and spirit. Some corrupted part of my rational mind linked the floral calming magic to the same thing the Clerics had used on us. Methods of control for our masters, raping the will from us until we were the object and ingredients they wanted. Broken to ensure we would do what the clerics needed. Our basic will to exist, stolen away. Meaty fingers holding sharp implements, vile potions and acid filled needles. Malicious magic and evil intent. And worst of all, our own desires, that made us want to climb onto their shiny tables with a smile. Glad because we were pleasing them. Once again, I could feel my warm blood glide across my cheek as the smiling cleric cut into the flesh around my eye. His calm, assured voice telling me, we, us, that I was a good subject, that I pleased him. Then later in the dark, the same voice would tell me I was so pretty, even as my stitched flesh bounced against the wall or froze to the bars of the cage or silently pleaded for death to find our tortured bodies. I’d escaped, though hadn’t I? Or had that freedom been the dream? Had I been here with the clerics all along? No. I had obliterated them. I’d milled them to paste. Just a fine mix of blood and bone. I keenly remembered tearing out the throats of my abusers. Didn’t I? Hadn’t I revelled in the warm shower of blood? Yes. NO! Maybe? Then her soft voice slid through my frenzied madness. Raina! She’d been real. She was real. Her calm kind words, those comforting touches. Yes. She was real. I could count on that if nothing else in this nightmare that was my mind. With painful sluggishness I reforged myself. It took me a while to force away the memories. I could hear myself muttering our mantra. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. That was me. My name. I was more than the nightmares. More than the well of violent emotion the clerics had bored into me. I intimidated, deceived, and persuaded the sea of unthinking savage rage back into it’s well, slamming down a new seal while mentally rechaining its cage. The feeling of blood on my face lingered though. I blinked rapidly. The white walls of the shop slowly came back into focus. I sighed, relaxing a hair. Just the past. I was safe, I was no longer helpless, I would be okay. There was one confusing thing that remained however. The feeling of being restrained still hadn’t gone away. My leather clad fingers gently traced the leather bands across my chest. Feeling something with more curvature and depth than straps should have, I looked down. Dark leather clad limbs enclosed my chest pinning my arms. My awareness expanded and I registered the large body pressed up against mine. I glanced over my shoulder, and then, seeing only midnight blue leather lapels, up. From across the room, I hadn’t registered just how tall the other woman was. Those oh so mesmerising eyes were narrowed. At me. Oh. Scheisse. What had I done? “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Her laugh was quick and her voice pleasantly low. “No, I was never in any danger. I was more worried about you hurting yourself.” She paused a moment. “Has this happened before?”

I made a weird noise, my gut clenching. “Not for a few years now.” Maw take it. Raina was going to be so disappointed in me. I was disappointed in me. Shouting from the street snapped my attention back to the current situation. What was I going to do? I’d been about to leave. It might have been the memories, or perhaps some lingering wrath, but that just didn’t seem like an option anymore. I still knew getting involved wasn’t wise, yet I also knew that if I walked away now, I would be adding another nightmare to my collection. Wise or no, the remnants of the past would not let me walk away. And I really wanted to find the Magh who’d caught me in their magic and slit their throat. I tapped the arms wrapped around me. “My apologies, I need to get going though.”

She released me. “You may want to wait a moment until things calm down outside.”

I snorted. “There’s a part of me that wishes I could.” I glanced her way. “You might want to take off.” I glanced toward the window that overlooked the street. “And perhaps forget about seeing me.”

She followed my gaze, then sighed and shook her head. “What do you hope to accomplish? I know this is distressing,” she gave me an indecipherable look, “but it’s one instance of an infinite sea of events that happen everyday. Stopping this one changes nothing. Think about it. Even if,” she looked me up and down, “you can save those women what are you going to do with them? Those collars are a permanent mark on them.” Her voice became contemplative. “And they’ve apparently hired a magh. Do you have any idea how expensive that is? Or any way to go up against one?”

I made a frustrated noise. “Please believe me, as strange as it sounds, I’m well aware how pointlessly foolish intervening will be.” I shrugged with a frown and unclipped the latch on my wrist blade. “Despite it, I’m still going to ask you to turn a blind eye, while I go do something stupid.”

Surprisingly, she smiled. There was a harsh edge to it. “Set on playing the fool, are you?” she held something out to me, “Might be best then to not let anyone see you do it.” It was the mask I’d been admiring earlier. “Besides, all the best fools have masks.”

Hesitantly I took it from her slowly. I certainly hadn’t been expecting someone to support my insanity. I let my astonishment show on my face when I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged in answer to my silent question. “What can I say, I’m bored, and you seem interesting.” She motioned to the street. “If you want to do something, I’d get on it. They’re almost done down there.”

I flashed her a smile and tugged the mask on, cinching the built-in strap until it was snug. I settled it in place, tucking my hair down my back, under the coat. The mask fit surprisingly well and only cut my peripherals by a hair. I liked it. I liked the feel of it. The sensation of anonymity covered my faint anxiety, letting me revel instead in my mounting anticipation. With a mental shrug, I slipped off my cloak of civility. I could feel my heartbeat quicken. After watching quietly for so long, being so patient and oh so good, it was finally time to play again!

Almost giddy, I glided over to the side of the window to take a quick look at the situation outside. On the far side of the street below, one of the girls brandished a dagger jabbing at the slaver as he tried to grapple her. In a half ring around them stood four other slavers, their weapons drawn but their bodies relaxed, already sensing the final moments of this sad play. Almost involuntarily my gaze slid, searching for the others. My gaze only traveled a few more meters into the market. There, lounging at ease, stood the other three slavers. The two other slave women, wrists shackled, were crying at their feet. I’d been there before. My tears too, had been in vain. The savage part of me, a creature of the clerics making, would have gladly leaped out the window to rip into theses personifications of her fears. Thirsty for just one more drop of revenge. It wasn’t the only part of me that wanted to cast aside the years of meditation and training. To return to simpler times. Against the mask’s silk lining, I felt my mouth pull into a ridiculous grin. I’d worked too hard, for too long, to let that happen. I wasn’t that simple, blood drunk wretch anymore. Raina and I had reforged that mess, into something more than just a pit of malice. Into someone better, smarter, and even more deadly. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. The touchstone mantra strengthened my grip on reality holding back my madness, if only just, and the whining of my bloodlust faded. I took a deep breath in and held it. The floral aroma was still thick in the air and my mind felt the pressure as the magic strained the fragile hold I’d re-established. Now that I’d prepared for it however, I could fight off its effect for a little while at least. Fight being the key word there. I let the breath out slowly. Time seemed to slow as my recuperating mind quickened, trying to patch together a hasty strategy. In the background of my frantic thoughts, the sounds of the slaves crying, stretched into eerie wail. Despite my contempt for them, the slavers looked to be physically stronger than me. They had the advantage of numbers too. If this was to be more than a suicidal waste of time, I had to put my finger on the scales of fate. I had to separate my opponents. I had to hamper their movements and distract their focus. To achieve all that… I needed chaos.

Time snapped back to its usual flow and as sounds returned to their normal pace, I heard the last, ‘free’ slave, scream out. “Please, no, no please someone help me!”

Her plea was my trigger. Uncapping two potion vials from my coat, I tossed them out the window in either direction. The vials flew unnoticed into the subdued crowd. My boots pounded across the metal floor. I forewent the stairs, lunging down to the landing between flights, then again down to the main floor. A few members of the crowd had clumped around the shop’s entrance, but being still caught in the magic, I doubt they even noticed my exit. Their serenity was about to come to an abrupt end however, as I’d set in motion a rather disturbing wakeup call. My foot hit the metal of the street just as sounds of panic arose as if on cue. These terrified shouts didn’t come from the slaves, who were now hidden from me behind the throng of people. No, these cries rose from all around me. Their cause was the billowing, opaque red clouds that were erupting to my left and right. A mob this large may be magically lulled into dismissing an individual’s plight, but when the danger affected the mob itself? No single magh could calm that kind of terror. The ripples of unrest reached me as I slipped behind one of the distracted slavers. People had suddenly decided this show, had too high of a ticket price. With the crowd coming to a boil, I would be surprised if anyone even took note of me wetting my blade with the slaver’s blood. Driving a violent jab into their neck from behind, I had already slipped back into the roiling crowd as the cloaked form spun clasping its hands to its throat. The other three brown cloaks held the broken half circle around the slaver trying to claim their last mark. With people starting to shove and push their way free of the smoke, the slavers were barely holding the space. The pandemonium now reaching violence inducing levels, I elbowed my way against the flow of bodies toward the north. I pushed into the red cloud, aiming to where I’d last seen the other group of slavers. I was buffeted on all sides by women, children, and men. Flerae, dwarf and hume alike, gave into their fear and regressed to their most primal behavior. It was beautiful chaos. The smoke rendered all within it, effectively blind. Myself included. Flutters of bright material and terrified faces appeared before me only to be replaced by others a heartbeat later. Then I pushed past a woman to find I was on top of the second set of slavers. The group of three that had been standing over two of the recaptured slaves. They were now shoving randomly at the flood of people that threatened to carry them away. More to protect themselves, than out of any concern for the living cargo at their feet. The closest met my eyes as my blade separated the flesh of his throat. I added the strength of my other hand, slamming its palm into my other elbow to drive the knife even deeper. Surprised shock filled his features, but I didn’t slow to watch, withdrawing my blade as I spun away. Slipping behind him, to thrust my dagger low into his companions’ side. Three jabs aimed at the soft flesh under their ribcage, the second deflected off something but the other two sank deep. She yowled in pain. I bodychecked the first one I’d stabbed, sending him sprawling under boots of the now fleeing mob. I flipped back to open the throat of the yowler. She’d drawn a dagger, but it slipped from her fingers striking the slave woman cowering at her feet on its way down. The third was ready for me and I threw my left arm up, deflecting their wild slash. Flipping my hand around, I grasped the extended arm. Then I slashed their elbow joint savagely like Raina had taught me. One of the people from the stampede, slammed into me and I staggered, pulling the slaver with me. He tripped over the slaves sending all of us sprawling into a pile. Out of the smoke the slavers scarred, stubble covered face loomed over me. I lost my grip on his arm and he knelt back to bring his dagger down, but suddenly stiffened, pain flashing across his face. Not pausing to question my luck, I whipped my arm across my body. His hot blood sprayed my face as I opened his throat. He gurgled before slumping over to one side. I had a glimpse of the collared women, holding a wet blade, before the smoke swallowed her again. I grabbed a passing body, using the momentum to pull myself to my feet. The press of people carried me, swiftly back to the last four. They had closed ranks, backs to the slaver still struggling with the last girl. Apparently unaware what had happened to their comrades. I crouched behind the large form in front of me, sticking close until we were abreast of the mercenaries. I struck out as we passed, then darted deeper into the stampede of people. Shouts arose behind me and in my mind, I saw them draw steel as yet another of their party fell back wounded. I let the mob carry me well past them before fighting to the side of the street. At a narrow gap between buildings, I flipped over the meter tall safety railing before sheathing my wrist knife. Like a raging river the terrified people poured past. I searched the buildings to either side for a way up, grinning when I saw a service ladder bolted to the wall. It looked solid enough. Planting one foot on the safety rail I leapt up, grabbing a rung with one hand and the side of the ladder with the other. My previous bad luck with the ladder down in Indus flashed in my mind. I shook the memory away, repressing it along with the knowledge that if I fell this time, there was no street below me to break my legs on. I hauled myself up, scrambling and lunging with all my limbs. My recklessness was quick to catch up with me. Ironically, or perhaps karmically, it was my blood slicked gloves that nearly ended me. Grunting as my hands slid off a rung near the top, I flattened my feet and threw my body back against the building on the other side of the gap. My coat caught bunching in my armpits. I paused for a moment letting the shot of panic settle in my stomach. I was stretched out diagonally. If the gap had been even half a meter wider, I would have been flying down to Indus. There was no time to wallow however. Making fists on either side of my head, I bucked off the wall, then snapped my arms forward to grab the ladder once more. Quickly I scrambled to the roof line. Slipping again when I grabbed for the lip of the roof, it took another panic inducing maneuver and a bruised armpit to avoid falling. With a series of graceless movements, I threw myself onto the sloping metal surface. Arms akimbo I found myself lying on my back giggling with adrenalin induced glee. Sending a silent thankyou to lady luck, I flipped to my knees and pushed myself up. From my new vantage point, I could see the full spread of chaos before me. I took it all in as I jogged forward. The two clouds continued to creep toward one another. They were sluggishly being pushed by the wind but resisted more than any natural smoke would. On the far side of either cloud, people rushed away. It took me seconds to backtrack until I was above the last of the slavers. The street, the slice that wasn’t obscured, was half full. The last of the people fleeing the forum now giving the four remaining slavers a wide berth even as they pushed and shoved one another. The first brown cloak of this group that I’d downed, lay still, likely trampled to death. The latest one I’d stabbed was down but not yet dead. I’d have to fix that. With the street level panic, not one of the slavers was looking up. Two focused on the crowd, while one tended to his wounded compatriot. Grinning I slipped over the edge. The trim around the second story window was as good as a ladder for me. In a smooth motion I dropped to the ground behind the one applying first aid and drew my wrist knife again. The young woman, wrists bound together now, lay curled at his feet. She noticed me. The slaver didn’t. At least he didn’t until my left hand slapped over his mouth. With my right hand I plunged the dagger deep, severing the thick blood vessel in his neck. He pulled me forward a step before I could throw my weight backward. Like a leaking hydraulic press, his body slumped. I straightened, making grim eye contact with the slaver on the ground. The wounded slaver looked torn between grabbing his weapon and continuing to clutch his gut. He decided just to clumsily crawl backward, shouting for help as I slid another vial from my coat. All right then, time for the grand finale. Motioning for the wide-eyed young lady to stay down, I slashed toward the last two healthy slavers with the vial. They were midturn when the frog poison splashed across their faces. Confusion flashed across their features, followed by anger when they saw what I’d done to their companion. Drops ran down their necks betwixt skin and what little patchwork armor they wore. Flipping the dagger in my hand I blocked a quick slash from the one on the right. The left one moved to get a better angle but stumbled and pitched sideways. Collapsing bonelessly onto the street. The one in front of me, got one more, weaker, flail before I plunged my blade in his throat. He toppled backward, conveniently pulling himself off my knife. I spun on my back foot and took a lunging step toward the last slaver. He was crab crawling madly away on three limbs by this point. One arm still holding his gut wound. His face said he was regretting his life decisions. Taking two quick steps in his direction, I faked a high, plunging slash. As his hands went up, I dropped to my knees and thrust the dagger into his thigh with both hands. I nastily swiveled the blade while pulling it out and jumped to my feet. Or tried to. Lashing out franticly, he struck out with both fists clenched together, knocking me backward and down onto my ass. I winced at the pain but scrambled back to my feet quickly. He’d disappeared into the crowd and I was briefly torn whether to pursue or not. My still seething bloodlust urged me to chase down our fleeing prey. I pushed it down with a monumental feat of sheer will power. Rescuing the slaves had been my objective and that had to take precedence over indulging the savage part of me. I consoled myself that he’d likely bleed out soon. Despite my success in birthing such pandemonium, there were a rising number of shouts pleading for mercenaries. I grimaced. At this point they’d take the brown cloak’s side and a fair fight with even one mercenary was not something I could handle. Raina had proven that in our sporadic sparing matches. I knew surprise and chaos were the only reason I’d done so well against even these slavers. I still didn’t know if I’d gotten that magh either. I needed to wrap this adventure up and get myself gone from here. I strode back to the slave woman, thrusting a hand down. “Come on, we have to get your friends and get out of here. Now.” Her tense green eyes darted to my hand then back to my face and for a moment I feared she wouldn’t come with me. Wouldn’t that be ironic. Surprisingly, I found that it mattered to me. I like to think I was clearly the better alternative here. She must have realized how limited her options were though, as she reached out her bound hands and firmly grasped my glove. I threw my weight back and hauled her up. Not letting go, I pulled her toward where I’d last seen the other two. The smoke still obscured everything but there were only a few people still stumbling around in it. We soon found the three corpses I’d left. There was no sign of the slave women though. They’d likely sought to move free of the blinding red smoke, but what way had they gone? I didn’t think they’d passed us, so I tugged the woman forward, heading deeper into the market. When we burst out of the smoke, a series of reactions followed. First, I stopped at the sight of the two slave women huddled against a cart. Then tensed at their screams and urgently pointing hands. Fear hit me, a second before the ball of fire. I lost my grip on the woman’s hand as I was blasted back into the red cloud. Spots swam in my vision. I was a dead woman. Much to my horror, I’d found the Magh. I don’t know exactly what happened next, I was, I think understandably, a little out of it. Black smoke rose from my torso, mixing with swirls into the red cloud above. There was more screaming. Then a blast of air that shifted my limp body. Well, this sucked. Not that it was completely unexpected, but I’d held out hope for a better outcome. I’d only gotten to taste a brief moment of triumph before it’d soured and now it looked like I was going to meet my end, smouldering in the street. Lovely. Sounds were warbling in and out. I was ready to just close my eyes and surrender to the pain. The hatred inside me though, had other plans. It swept again over my weakened mind. No nightmarish scenes overlaid my vision this time. I guess reality was sufficiently terrifying. Defying my body’s limits, it forced me over and into a curl. The dark cloud of malice and I pushed ourselves up and stumbled aimlessly forward. We’d scarcely cleared two meters before our body gave out and we collapsed back to our knees. I looked down to see shiny gut slipping out between the blackened edges of the hole in my chest. Scheisse. Well, that wasn’t good. I blinked rapidly as the shock began to wear off and the pain arrived. The coat was done for I inanely thought to myself. As I brushed my fingers over the ragged edge of the material, they bumped over the ends of the last two potion vials I’d brought along. I’d almost forgotten about them. Hope blooming in me, I struggled for them. I’d lost most of the feeling in my fingers, but I managed to pry both of the vials out of what remained of their pockets. I fumbled the caps, but my hands weren’t responding. With a petulant moan, I slumped to the side, gasping. Maybe I would just catch my breath first. Yeah, I’d catch my breath then try again. Just needed to breath. It actually wasn’t that uncomfortable here, might even be able to sleep if I just, closed, my, eyes. Sleep would be nice. I was so very tired. Someone was shaking me though. I wouldn’t be able to sleep with them shaking me. Wasn’t I wounded? I tried to tell them to go away but as soon as I opened my mouth, they poured liquid in. Disgusting liquid. Bleh. I tried to spit it up but then a hand clamped over my lips. My mouth began to tickle then a prickling sensation climbed down my throat turning circles in my stomach. I swallowed hard. The sensation grew as I recognized magic working its way through my body. More shaking and an insistent voice shouting in my ear, brought me fully back to full awareness. The blue eyed woman was bent over me, her long black braid in my face as she continued to tell me to get moving. I flopped a hand onto her shoulder and she finally shut up. Actually, she went sprawling back on her butt.

She nodded to her left. “If you’re able to, you better finish things, before they finish you.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” I grumbled woozily, not really wanting an answer. Shakily rising, I had to use one of my hands to steady myself part of the way. Red smoke still hung in the air, but it was nearly transparent now. Two of the slave women were tussling with the Magh, one having been already pinned down by an indistinct, shimmering force. The Magh flung another down and the shimmering spread to hold her too. The last was struggling against the side of a stall. The Magh pinning her with a gauntlet around her throat. Warm waves of magic still washing through me, I dragged in a breath to clear the storm of black dots from my eyes. I instinctively dusted myself off, despite my coat and blouse hanging in tatters below my breasts. Then I gave my neck a good crack. Time for round two. I still had my second knife, and I unsheathed it from my arm pit as I moved forward. A step, two, then I leaned into a sprint. The Magh heard me coming because in one movement he struck the young woman with his fist, then turned, sweeping his arms my way. I screamed a battle cry and closed the remaining distance with a lunge. I think both of us were surprised when I went hurtling into him like a crossbow bolt. My blade punched into his torso. Then through. He tried to scream something, but it was cut off by my descending fist to his mouth as we crashed into the floor. It was then that I caught on to the fact that I was on a strength potion. Hard not to notice, with my fist slamming down through his teeth, jaw, and skull to ring against the metal underneath. The fresh corpse went limp, and I went down on top of him, using the last of my momentum to roll past, pulling myself out of the bloody wreck of a corpse. My hands slid free with a nasty sucking sound. I straightened slowly, wincing when my movement pulled at the mass of new flesh that had grown across my stomach. I put a steadying hand against a stall and took a deep breath. The slave women were staring at me. A moment passed and the two on the ground clambered to their feet, chains clanking loudly in the sudden silence. I took a look around. Across the market, a few brave people peeked out of their hiding spots. Blue Eyes, was nowhere to be seen. By the time my gaze got back to the corpse in front of me, the girls had gathered and were staring at me. “Right then, follow me. We best not be here when mercs come to mop up.”

Chapter 15

I stashed the mask in my single surviving deep pocket when we’d put a few bridge roads between us and the market forum. The fight had thrown traffic into chaos. Crashed autocarts created a makeshift labyrinth, in which people lay slumped and curled, having dropped at the first place they felt was safe. As we passed by only a few took notice of us. Most people were crying hysterically, moaning softly or completely silent, too shocked by my handiwork. I saw a couple cuts and some blossoming bruises on the citizens we passed. I considered what I must look like. My crossed arms held my coat closed, but there wasn’t enough material left to cover the front of my lower torso. I keenly felt the cool fingers of the wind on the exposed skin. There was also a lot more blood on my clothes, than anyone else’s. I might start to stand out if we went much further. Flicking a glance backward, I grunted softly. The three women didn’t exactly blend in either. As we were, it’d take a miracle to not be reported to the nearest mercs. Taking a quick detour from the destination I had in mind, I motioned the women to follow me over to a fabric store. Leaving them out front I pulled on my merchant’s mask and slipped inside. The shopkeeper had been reluctant at first, but he cheered considerably when I brought out my coin. Four bolts of dark grey cloth ate greedily into my purse. It almost hurt not to haggle, but there were more pressing concerns than saving coin. Stepping out of the store I saw that we’d already started garnering some attention. Throwing the cloth over ourselves, we hurriedly moved on. I led us closer to the core striking more north than south. The buildings around here were primarily services, thus mostly frequented by slaves and servants. It was far from uncommon to see slaves running errands, or acting as porter, here. They, however, were usually much better dressed, and never chained. I glanced back at the three trailing behind me. Bundled tight to hide the chains their bodies were completely covered. What little showed of their faces were stamped with bone deep fatigue. Not surprising if they’d been on the run for a while. Yet even if I imagined them as they might appear after some tender loving care, they weren’t blinding beauties. So, what had made them rate such an expenditure to ensure their recapture? I hadn’t seen, or heard, of any other slavers who employed a magh. What made these women so valuable? Political hostages maybe? But they wouldn’t be collared like slaves. Unless someone had been trying to hide them in plain sight? My paranoia riding me hard, new theories kept cramming themselves into my mind. I was dying to question the women, but that had to wait until I could get those targets off their necks. Each second they wore those collars, they were a grain of sand closer to being retaken. We passed increasingly less fanciful shops. This time a day only a few were open, the sun sat low on the wall, so most people would be preparing supper or having it prepared for them. Stepping from the doorway of a pub, a heavy set man smiled and nodded to me as I passed, I politely returned the greeting. A faint flitter of paranoia touched me, and I found myself pulling up my new ‘cloak’. I wasn’t overly concerned with being recognized after this afternoon’s activities, panic does odd things to one’s memories, yet I still worried. The small touches of fear sped my heartbeat up. I resisted the impulse to increase my pace, keeping to a stately stride. It was to my great relief, when I came to the three story building with the oversized doors from my memories. A small sign, near the regular sized customers entrance, proudly proclaimed this to be Malcom’s Smithy and Mechanical Emporium. Fine print underneath added ‘for the discerning customer’. I hesitated a moment before entering. Or at least I tried to enter. The door was securely locked. I should have expected this, shaking my head I stepped back to survey the building. The only windows on the front were dark, so I continued down the street to the building’s corner. A look back showed me the array of emotions on the women. One was suspicious, one was curious and the last looked like she wasn’t really with us. I gave them what I hoped was a reassuring smile before glancing down the gap between buildings. I angled my head, trying to see into the windows. It was an awkward angle, but I couldn’t see any light. Grimacing I backtracked to the other side of the smith’s shop. I was just passing the large double doors when I heard the rhythmic banging from inside. My grimace curled up into a triumphant grin at the noise. I waited listening for a pause. The shadows about me grew noticeably as I waited, my paranoia waring with my patience. The rhythmic pounding halted almost suddenly. I grinned and took up the beat, slamming my arm against the doors in the same rhythm as hard as I could. The flesh of my hand was beginning to get sore when one of the doors swung inwards. The steel hair I remembered had tipped a little to the white side, but strong features still graced Malcom’s face. His admittedly pinched and frowning face. My grin got wider.

“By the Maw! Not only do I have a rude lass denting my door when I’m clearly closed, but she’s a loon to boot. Curse my sodding luck. See here girl, closed means I’m not selling so whatever you came here for you can come back on the morrow, and if you bring enough coin, I might consider talking to you. In the meantime, shove off!” He harrumphed and started to swing the door shut until I quickly shifted to lean on the open door.

“Oh come now, is that anyway to greet an old friend Malcom?” I pulled the cloth lower to expose my face.

Confusion crossed his face. “Old friend?” He squinted harder at me. “You!” He shouted, immediately sticking his head into the street looking both ways before grabbing me roughly. I let him pull me back into the shop. He protested when I held the door against him and waved the women in. I made apologetic noises and hushing motions with my hand. When we were all in, I stepped aside and he swung the door shut behind me. “Bloody Maw woman! I told you to never come back here. We agreed it was for the best. If anyone were to find you.” He shook his head in horror. “They’d tear me apart if they knew about our ‘arrangement’.” He shot suspicious looks at the slave women as he talked. “You should not have come, in person. Wasn’t it your idea to use a go between if there was to be any further contact?” He straightened, “You should go. Now.”

I slumped back against the door. “If the flow of fate was mine to guide, I wouldn’t have been back Malcom. However, uncontrollable events made it necessary.” I cocked my head to the women and dropped my voice into a conspiratorial tone. “Could you remove their shackles and collars?”

“Illegally remove a slave collar? Are you trying to get me thrown in the Cog Vaeronica!” He looked as if I’d said I was jumping into the Maw and taking him with me. “I thought you smarter than that, woman! Even after you talked me into that mad scheme.”

I frowned. Even after the Church had branded his daughter an outcast and heretic, was he still this much of sucker for the ‘Laws of Those Above’? “I’d never jeopardize you like that Malcom,” I said vehemently, putting some indignation into my voice, “and if they were run of the mill slaves I wouldn’t even ask.” I searched his eyes, my plea in my gaze. “They aren’t though. Their situation stinks worse than the Gutter. Someone with a lot of money has gone through a lot of trouble to do something very illegal.” I plastered on a smile I didn’t feel. And hoped he hadn’t noticed how vague I was being. “You’d be banking good karma.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Why?”

“Well because you’d be a part of righ—”

“No.” He cut me off. “I mean what makes their situation special?”

I’d really been hoping he wouldn’t ask that. I thought fast. “First, they sent eight slavers after three slaves. Second, they influenced the market mercs. Those bribes alone would be worth ten, experienced, slaves. And I saved the weirdest thing for last, Malcom. They had a magh working for them.”

He scoffed. “No magh is that hard up for coin. Even you Alchemists don’t slum it with slavers. Besides, why would they even need one?”

“Well,” I looked helplessly at the women, “because they… Are.” I waved a hand as if I could snatch an answer out of the air.

“It might be because we can use magic.” One of the women chimed in.

“Atabey!” The brown haired one scolded. The third puffed up but stayed silent.

Malcom had started to make spluttering noises. I would have been too, but I flashed back to the day before. “The train!” I declared with a snap of my fingers. “That was you three!”

“Me and Atabey.” Challenged, the one who’d stayed silent until now. She gestured to the other black haired woman. She almost seemed defiantly proud about it. I couldn’t really blame her.

Malcom finally managed a coherent sentence. “You can’t have magic! They test for magic before they lock a collar on. Its a mandatory procedure for every potential slave.”

“We were tested, but that didn’t stop them for putting these around our necks.” The one called Atabey tugged on her collar.

The other black haired one made a rude noise. “I think they singled us out, because, we had magic.”

Malcom’s eyes went wide, and he cursed. And cursed. And cursed, really, I started to feel a little awkward about the inventiveness he displayed. I completely shared his sentiments though. The cities founders, and even their ancestors had known that enslaving magic users with just a collar, never ended well. Not only was the ability to use magic prized and cherished, but its effects also largely depended on the whim of the user. Oh sure, certain movements, sounds and specific materials or script, helped guide the raw magic. The core driving force however, was the user’s intent. Even the meekest slave might consider other options if they could turn their owner into a pile of cinder. And they had. Hence the strict penalties brought down on any who dare break that law. It was also the one of the reasons every magh in the city gave a magically binding oath to Those Above. I tuned back into Malcom’s continuing tirade. The tangential thought crossed my mind at one of his more outlandish suggestions, wondering if someone could really do that without dying before the metal became pliable. I shook my head to clear it of the image and stood up. I almost felt bad interrupting such artistry in progress but cut in anyway. “Malcom, please.” I implored, holding up my hands. He paused, his chest heaving. “Now you can see why we need to help these people. Will you do it? Will you help us?”

He glowered at me. Hands moving onto his hips he sighed. “Course. Of course, I’ll help Vaeronica. Never should have happened in the first place anyways,” he grunted, “and it will be my pleasure to see things set right.”

One of the women chose that moment to speak up. “Right? Your entire slave economy isn’t right! Are you going to help fix that too?” She demanded, fixing Malcom with a glare.

“Sedna, please. Its not like the two of them can change anything on their own. Certainly not here and now.” Atabey said, childing the other black haired woman. Atabey turned to me, an apology on her face. “I’m sorry Vaeronica. You’ve really stuck your neck out for us. Both of you have.” She gestured to Malcom. “We,” she gave a pointed glare to Sedna, “understand you’re not a part of it just because you live here. Our, let’s say shock? Comes from us being used to a, quite different way of life. A different culture. A legal slave trade is, extremely disturbing to us.” She smiled and it really made her beauty glow. “In my opinion, that you’re a part of this culture and yet still chose to risk helping us makes your actions that much more virtuous.”

“Thanks?” Her words left me feeling slightly awkward. “I think.” Even with the backhanded compliment though, I was liking her more than Sedna. “Where are you from?”

“No!” Malcom held up a hand. “If you’re going to get friendly and share your life stories, you can do it at the pub. Or your shop, or the Maw for all I care. Just as long as its not here!” He waved a finger at me. “I’ll help you, help them, but there my part ends. Agreed?”

I nodded with a smile I didn’t have to force. “Thank you, Malcom. Really.”

“Said the noble to the logger.” He waved off my thanks and turned to the other women. “So who’s first?”

***

Sedna, Atabey and the brown haired girl, who’s name I learned was Tia, were buoyed by the removal of their chains and collars. The loss of some of their tension made them look and even act a little younger. I’d first thought them my age but dropped them down to a few years younger. They had some redness from the metal chaffing their skin and some scrapes from the tussle but were otherwise physically okay. A little gaunt, as one could expect to be on a slave’s diet. A hearty meal, a good night’s rest, and some relaxation should have them feeling right as rain. Physically anyways. I knew firsthand that mental trauma and the scars left from it can last long after the body has healed. They were uncollared and at least temporarily free, so that had to count for something right? Before we left Malcom gave us some metal slivers to help pin our makeshift cloaks into place. I left him what money I had on me. It wasn’t near what he deserved but it was something at least. The others, Atabey in particular, showered Malcom with their thanks until he gruffly shooed us out the door. From Malcolm’s shop I took us straight for my store. We were halfway there, not far from the Merchant’s Guild, when Sedna moved up to walk at my shoulder.

“We’re being followed.” She whispered to me. “At least two of them.”

I nodded to her but waited until we turned onto a ring road before subtly glancing back. She’d been right. The quick look had shown me three brown cloaked figures moving with purpose toward us. If It came to a fight, I wouldn’t bet coin on us winning. I leaned close to Sedna. “Can you three do any more magic?”

She made a negative sound. “Not without a likely risk of hurting ourselves more than them. Not under these conditions.”

“What would you need?”

She hummed impatiently. “Several hours of rest. Space to dance and time to sing to the ancestors.”

I gave her a double take at that. I’d read of the technique of course. Most methods of magical expression had stemmed from it long ago. The method was seldom used in our city though. Our obsession with doing more things in less time, had led our maghs to adopt quicker, messier, methods. I briefly wondered if learning that form of expression might make my pitiful amount of magic more useful. That could wait though. Right now, I had to deal with our pursuers. Taking a chance, I took us in a new direction. We were half an hour from my store. The merchant’s guild, however, was five minutes away. I put a hand on Sedna’s shoulder, slowing us just enough to fall closer to the other women. Keeping my voice low I told them my plan. “We’re going to have to run here. Follow me and stay close. Got it?” They murmured their acceptance with different degrees of enthusiasm. “Go.”

I broke into a run. People shouted as I brushed by. I checked back once in a relatively clear area, but there were too many obstacles to keep an eye out while dashing forward. I had to have faith in the others that they could keep up. I was pushing my worn and recently patched body. Spiking pain told me so in no uncertain terms. My recently regenerated stomach had developed a painful stich as new muscle was forced into service. My thighs absolutely burned. As the Guild building came into sight however, I found the motivation to dig past healthy limits and scrape deeper into my body’s reserves. With a slight burst of speed, I crossed the road around the guild and nearly hurt myself slamming to the Mercenary post by its eastern entryway. “Please! Indus thugs are chasing us!” I cried holding up my Merchant’s Pass. “Please, I think they’re illegal slavers.” The others reached me, as the merc took my pass. Two other mercenaries behind him came out of the shed, moving between us and the street. I had a half second feeling of being trapped. It quickly gave way to relief as the slavers pulled up just short of them. There were five slavers, but I think both parties knew it would only take one Guild trained mercenary to wipe the floor with all five slavers.

One of the slavers stepped forward. “These people are escaped slaves. We’re authorised to take them back to their owners.”

The merc I’d given my pass to handed it back to me and moved out of the small metal overhang to stand between her comrades. “She’s a licenced Comra merchant, with a valid pass.”

“Then she must have helped steal the other three from their owners.” The slaver growled.

The merc looked back and made a motion to her throat. Understanding I turned to the others and quietly mouthed collar, pulling down my own cloak in demonstration. They hurriedly copied the display, raising their chins up for the merc’s inspection.

She snorted and turned back to the slavers who already were looking a lot less confident. “I don’t see any collars on them.”

The slaver made an aggrieved noise. “They probably found someone to take them off! Check their necks, I’m sure they’ll bear some marks.”

Ignoring a bite of fear, I stepped forward to address the slaver directly. “All right we can do that if you are really so sure.” I dropped my voice threateningly. “And then we can display that they have the ability to use magic like me.” The slavers blanched, almost as one. The ones near the back started moving away. Steel rang as the mercs unsheathed their weapons. As one both sides of the brewing conflict broke into a run. The slavers to get away, the mercs to wet their blades. In seconds it was over. One slaver had gotten away, and one had gotten lucky and was still alive. Unconscious, but alive.

The merc that’d done the talking came back to me and bowed slightly. “Apologies for that unpleasantness Merchant. We will investigate the matter, but you should be safe for now.”

“Thank you, Mercenary. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

“Just doing our job,” she glanced down at the unconscious one, “but some tasks are more rewarding than others.” She gave me brief once over and glanced back to the others behind me. “Would you like an escort back to your establishment?”

I seriously considered the offer but ended up shaking my head. Things were complicated enough as it was. “No thank you. I’m sure if there are more lurking about, they will learn from this lesson. We’ll be on our way.” I made sure the other three were following and with a half bow to the mercs, got moving.

Chapter 16

We travelled the rest of the way without incident. I wasn’t very appreciative for it. At this point I kind of felt like fate owed me a few easy days. The sun was close to resting on the wall by the time we crossed to my door. I had taken us in an indirect curving route just in case we were followed. Dragging my key out of my cleavage, I appraised the other women. Weariness was clearly etched on the face of each. If I was being honest, I wasn’t about to go out dancing either. Entering first, I ushered the girls by before shutting and locking the door behind them. A weight came off my shoulders. Safe, at last. With a curt hand gesture, I got them to follow me up the stairs. “So, here we are. Please rest and make yourselves comfortable. You can use that to get cleaned up.” I showed them the water basin and they washed up a little while I outfitted them with my spare clothes. Doing so emptied my clothes drawer but the rags they’d been clothed in would have been scorned even in Indus. I changed into the now clean and dry clothes for my last Indus trip, as discreetly as was possible in such close quarters. Setting my ruined clothes on a pile with the women’s rags, I was folding my coat when I felt the solid lump in one of the pockets. The mask. I took it out, dropping the ruined coat. Turning it in my hands, I thought of Blue Eyes. She’d been gone before I could thank her properly. I placed the mask into an empty drawer and shut it with a slight smile. Fate willing I’d get the chance to properly thank her some day. I turned from my dresser and looked about the room. The women were just about finished dressing. Time for some answers hopefully.

“So,” I started off lamely, “where are you all from?”

It was Atabey who spoke up. “Far inland. I’m not completely sure where it is relative to here, but we come from the Striped Rock City. It’s” she sighed, casting her gaze down, and continued with a heavy note of wistfulness, “It’s a very different city.” She looked back at me. “A different way of life as we’ve said.”

“Would you tell me about it?” I asked. I knew of the place from my studies at the academy but had never met a citizen from it. Travel between the great cities was dangerous and expensive. The only remotely safe way to travel inland was by airship and tickets could cost as much as I made in a year.

Atabey, again answered me. “Our walls are natural, rather than constructed like yours. Most of the city was mined into the mountain from it’s peak.” She smiled. “You can stand at the edge of the walls and see what seems like the whole world sprawled before you. Inside the mountains the roads are wide, twice as those here,” she gestured outside, “and just as high.”

“Our homes are larger too.” Sedna added gesturing.

Atabey gave her a hard to read look. “They are if you’ve an old family.” She looked back to me. “There is less difference between the, hmmm, social hierarchy.” She shot Sedna another glance. “For those with families anyway.”

Sensing this family thing was an issue between them, I did the diplomatic thing and steered the conversation away. “How did you all come to end up on that train?” I gave them an apologetic frown. “I’m against slavery in general but what happened to you was wrong even under our laws.”

The quietest one, Tia, spoke up. “We were kidnapped.” She wouldn’t look up and continued to talk to her feet. “The people from this city watched one of our festivals where we communed with the ancestors. We dance, sing and feast all night until the entire city goes up to greet the newborn sun.” Her voice petered off into silence.

It was Atabey who picked up the conversation again. “They must have put something in our food or drink. By the time everyone started up, I found I could barely keep my eyes open.” She frowned. “Things get fuzzy from there. The next clear memory I have is the train, I think?” She gestured to Sedna. “She was the only other one awake out of the eight of us in there. Fearing for our lives, we combined our call to the ancestors.” Her voice suddenly filled with remorseful pain. “It didn’t work out like we had hoped.” Her voice faltered and she fell silent. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Sedna raised her chin, and vehemently added. “We did what we had to.”

I silently praised their actions, but I got the feeling it would be a while before they came to terms with what they’d been forced to do, so I held my tongue. Commenting on the carnage would be counter productive at this point. “Did you ever hear anything about what they had planned for you? I’ve theorized that someone wanted magic users and thought to cover their tracks by hunting in another city. However, I have not a single idea why. Did they plan to keep you drugged for the rest of your lives?”

Atabey and Sedna shook their heads almost in unison. Atabey gave me a hopeless smile. “We’ve been trying to think of a reason ourselves.” She shifted on the end of my bed. “Have you heard of this kind of thing happening before?”

Not exactly. “No. Or not that I’ve heard of. I didn’t think anyone would risk the wrath of the Church like that.”

“We’ve heard of this Church, and their connection to the city’s leaders.”

I hummed. “Yes, we call our leaders Those Above. The Church of Those Above sees to the administration of their laws as well as the veneration of their deity.” I snorted and rubbed my temple. “Well, I should say they see to the adjudication of some of the laws. In reality, the various Guilds see to the others. The majority truth be told.” We fell into a somber silence.

“Their?” Atabey questioned looking at me.

“Their?” I returned, not quiet understanding.

“You said ‘their’. Their deity.” She quirked her mouth apologetically. “You don’t follow the same religion?”

“Ah.” A slipup. Had I been with the Cleric, I would’ve been lucky to get off with just a fine for such blasphemy. “No. Although please keep that to yourselves. One of the laws, a condition of living in this city’s walls, is that all must venerate the One Who is All. The Ma’at.” I knew other cities had similar ‘conditions’ but I was unsure whether Striped Rock city had been one of them. This was an opportune moment to guide the conversation to a topic I had a vested interest in. “If I may ask about yourselves? What I’ve read indicated that you revere the dead and,” I shifted my tone affecting a touch of uncertainty, “spirits that, are or um, live in, everything? Please forgive me if my understanding is skewed. The existence of spirits is considered a fantastical and unpopular belief in this city. The etchings I’ve read were all translations from foreign authors.”

Sedna seemed to close off a little and her nose crinkled. Atabey however, laughed. “For an outsider that’s not a bad summary.” She placed her palm to her heart, fingers splayed. “We believe that when the time comes for our lives to end, our spirits separate from our physical form. As spirits, we join with the Great Spirit and the spirits of all our ancestors who came before us.”

Sedna jumped in, almost reluctantly. “If we have lived lives that honor them and their ways that is. Otherwise, the spirit is shunned, exiled to wander and fade into oblivion.” Her addendum struck me as scripted or memorized. Something she’d heard enough that the words were almost automatic. Curiously though, by the way Atabey’s lips curled down and the quick dart of her eyes to Sedna, I got the feeling their beliefs differed slightly.

Yet Atabey didn’t argue. She just continued on as if Sedna hadn’t spoken. “In addition to the spirits of our ancestors, there are also the spirits of nature.” She held out a hand as if grasping a ball. She touched one of her curled fingers with the index of her other hand. “Rather than every part of nature having its own individual spirit, they are connected as one.” She slid her index down the finger into her palm. “As the trees are a forest, plants and animals are connected to one another through this shared spirit.”

I felt a smile come unbidden. “That’s a beautiful belief Atabey.” One that fit perfectly with my theories. I wanted to drag her into my sanctuary and compare what she knew to my own research. Although her apparent reverence for spirits could complicate matters.

“It’s more than just a belief.” Sedna said curtly. “It’s the reality of this world, but we can’t expect a foreigner to understand.” She glared then, not at me, but Atabey.

Which I thought was unfair. My cheek twitched in ire, but I squashed it quickly. I held up my hands to bring Sedna’s focus back to me. “My apologies Sedna, I used the wrong words.” Not wanting to exacerbate the situation I reluctantly changed topics. Atabey seemed more amenable about discussing the subject of spirits. I’d have to see if I could speak with her alone in the future. “Do you think anyone from your city knows where you are?”

Sedna’s features stayed stony, but she answered me. “Perhaps. They likely know by now that we were taken against our will.” Her face and voice softened, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly. “Though it’s also likely, as far from the city as we are, that not even the spirits of our ancestors could find us now.”

“If we die here, we will be lost to oblivion.” Tia murmured. A slightly panicked edge to her words.

Both Atabey and Sedna moved to comfort her. Sedna’s voice was low but confident. “That will not be our fate Tia. I will see us home. I will save us. I promise.”

Sedna cleared her throat, turning to me. “I know you must be exhausted Vaeronica. You’ve also already done as much as any member of my own family would have. We are not yet safe however. Will you help us get back to our city?”

I didn’t answer right away. I held up two fingers to let her know I need a moment to answer. Would I help them? Getting involved in the first place had been idiocy on my part. Thinking back now, if I hadn’t had an episode like that, I likely would have let the slavers take them. I’m not heartless but I also had my own life to consider. After their display with the train, I knew they weren’t mere magic users like us alchemists, but maghs. Right below the law that kept magic users from being slaves, was another that stated all maghs in the city must be registered with the Church and bound by Those Above. Once that happened, I saw little chance these women would be allowed to return to their home. Magic users with their level of ability were just too rare of a resource. I was already in the Cleric’s sights for my involvement with Krutov. I shuddered to think what would happen if he stumbled across these women while they were in my company. I was playing a role with the Cleric. The part of a perfectly law-abiding citizen. If he learned that I was harbouring oath less foreign maghs or ever became suspicious that I was fronting a false appearance… Fear climbed my spine at the prospect of being trapped in another truth spell. Something told me this Cleric would catch on to my creative use of specific wording that had let me fool the last. Illegality and risk aside, helping the trio would also be expensive and time consuming. Not helping them though? First off, if the women were discovered by a Cleric, the Church would pull the truth out of them. I’d be dead before the next dawn. Malcom too. Secondly, if any of the three were to be recaptured by their original abductors, they could betray me to whatever powerful party was behind this. Whoever they turned out to be, I couldn’t see them being magnanimous about my interference. I’d be just as deep in gutter filth. If not deeper. One of those two possibilities had a high probability of occurring if they set out without a guide. Someone who knew the city and was on their side. I folded my hands and quickly ran through some other minor pros and cons. This was not something I could, or would, just blindly jump into. I could see my guests growing restless, so I tried to make up my mind quickly. Unfortunately, beside a certain measure of self defense and karmic satisfaction, I could see no upside to helping them flee. Although part of me did cheerfully observed that Raina would be disappointed if I abandoned them at this point. I rubbed my temples in frustration. Despite my internal debate, I found myself mired in indecision. The scales however, were precariously leaning towards ending my involvement here. The brutal honesty of the matter was that if I didn’t help them, then killing them might be the safest thing for me to do at this point. That however, would make my rescuing them into an act of sheer insanity. I was, if nothing else, still sane. Then a new possibility sparked to life in my thoughts. I was trying to decide between two options. What if there was a third? The idea began to grow, blooming into a fragile plan. I could both help them, and not. Why did their guide have to be me? I could get them someone else’s help. A third party with the power to get the women out of the city safely, yet also unlawful enough to risk crossing the Clerics, and whoever had kidnapped them in the first place. A greedy part of me rubbed her hands together, noting that with the right presentation, there was the slim chance that even by only helping them in this manner, I may be able to make the three of them feel indebted to me. I would still be playing a large role in saving them after all. If I were to ingratiate myself enough with these women, they might teach me their form of magical expression. Okay, the possibility of that happening was next to zero, but I could sway Atabey into telling me more about spirits at the very least.

Decided at last, I fixed first Tia, then Atabey and finally Sedna with a stare. “Yes, I can help you,” I raised a hand when hope exploded across their faces, “But only to a point.” Atabey bobbed her head understandingly. Sedna on the other hand, withdrew somewhat, her hopeful smile disappearing. Making eye contact, I shrugged. “I am not in a position to get you out of the city. I simply don’t have the funds. Travel to an inland city, means an airship. Selling everything I own might,” I said repeating the word to stress my point, “might be enough to purchase, a single, ticket. Then on top of that is the no small matter of finding an airship that’s heading to your city.”

Sedna was still stroking Tia’s hair, but her mind was elsewhere. “Perhaps we could get by with only one ticket for now. With me on the ship,” She looked up at Atabey, “I could sneak the two of you on. Or if that didn’t work, I could return alone and come back with one of the Speakers and more money.”

Atabey’s face darkened, mirroring my own. I’d said I’d help but I wasn’t about to surrender my own goals for these women. Atabey spoke before I could though. “You don’t seriously think Tia’s Speaker can afford that do you? Or that your own would intercede once you were safe and sound.” She sharpened her glare. “Or that any Speaker would lift a hand to help a one of the voiceless.” Sedna looked affronted and made protesting noises, but Atabey ignored them continuing. “That’s all dreaming anyway. You heard Vaeronica tell us she would have to sacrifice everything for that one ticket.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Its rude and ungrateful to expect, or ask, that from her.” With those words, my opinion of Atabey shot up.

Sedna didn’t seem to know when to stop though. “I don’t expect one of the voiceless to understand the bonds of our families. Or our inherited obligation to those less fortunate. I will see all of us returned home.” She turned to me and flatly told me. “I suppose such a personal sacrifice is too much to ask, from you. We wouldn’t want to burden you further with our survival.”

I clamped down hard on my anger. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. I drew my frosty gaze from Sedna and politely address Atabey instead. “Although I cannot assist directly, I do know of individuals who may be in a position to help you. I can introduce you to them.”

Atabey smiled appreciatively and shrugged. “That’s more than we could have hoped for Vaeronica. Thank you.”

Sedna wasn’t so grateful. “If you can’t afford a ticket, will these other people be able to?” She leaned forward. “More importantly, what will they want from us in return?”

I gave her an even look. “Yes, but as to what they’ll want? I’m not in a position to say, Sedna. I don’t know. They will certainly want something in exchange, but you may be able to persuade them to take payment on arrival in your city. You’ll have to negotiate the details in person.” Another thought struck me. “There’s a chance they could find your form of magical expression unique enough to trade you passage for it.”

Sedna’s reply was instant and cracked like a whip. “Never! The secrets of our Ancestor’s ways are sacred and not for trade to foreigners.”

“Then I suggest you contemplate, and discuss amongst yourselves, what assets you have and are willing to offer in trade, Sedna. Even if they accept being paid upon your return, they may ask for something as collateral until then.” I said with a calmness I wasn’t feeling. If Sedna had been by herself, I think I would have kicked her out there and then.

She stood up, looming over me. “We will be on our way then. While you did save us, you can’t guarantee that these people you take us to, will actually help us. Not to mention in this city, its likely they will just turn around and sell us to whoever brought us here.” She turned to the other two. “Let’s get going. We need to stay on the move.”

My slowly developing suspicion of Sedna, clicked into certainty. However the social structure of their city was setup, Sedna had to be on the upper tiers, if not the equivalent of a noble. The rigid arrogance had been my first clue. Then her bursts of poor situational awareness and shoddy regard of others had made me think of William. In particular the times when things weren’t going his way. I’d bet that under normal circumstances, Sedna would be the picture of cool diplomacy. Current events though, were straining that ingrained arrogance of hers to a breaking point. If that was one of the foundations of her sense of self, she may be on the verge of careening into a mental breakdown. Perhaps it was my own experience with those, that made me afford her a bit more patience. With an exhausted exhalation, I held my hands up. “Pause for a moment and think this through Sedna. This is not the time for jumping, without planning your landing first. Don’t be in such a hurry to get back on the street. You’re safe here for the moment and more than welcome to stay a few nights while you figure out what you want to do.” I gestured to the street. “While you might have gotten away for now, someone is still after you. Someone with enough money to send, not only the Magh after you today, but a full team of kidnappers, on an airship, to another city. All with the sole purpose of procuring the three of you.” I patiently explained, pausing to look around before I continued. “I know it’s small but it’s secure. No one knows you’re here but me.” I pointed to the fur blankets. “I’ll spread those out on the floor for you to sleep on for now. You can take some time to discuss your next steps amongst yourselves and at the very least get a good night’s rest.” I shrugged indifferently, spreading my hands. “On the morrow, I can take you to the people I mentioned, or you can strike out on your own and I’ll give you what supplies I can spare to ease your journey.”

She froze for a moment. Then she looked at Atabey and Tia. I was glad to see a hint of something like guilt or shame cross her face.

Tia nervously broke the moment. “If-if we wanted to stay here, would you let us?”

I seriously considered my answer before replying. “Just for a few days. If the people after you have enough authority with the Merchant’s Guild, they may be able to track you here. I had to show the mercs who saved us, a, document, with this address on it.” I uselessly gestured at the floor. “If you decide to stay a while, it’d be safer for me to take you to a friend I know down in Indus. She has plenty of room and can keep you hidden for a time. At least until you’ve worked out some sort of a plan. I’d have taken you there directly but after their failure in the market, there is a chance your pursuers posted people to watch the stairs. We’ll let them sit the night then,” I gave a pointed look to Sedna, “if you choose, we can slip past them tomorrow.”

“What will this friend of yours want for letting us stay with her?” Sedna asked. “For that matter what will you be expecting for the assistance you’ve provided?”

I rolled my eyes, landing a glare on her. “Nothing and nothing.” I half lied, “Having saved your necks today and provided you with a place to stay for the night, I think I’ve earned, at the bare minimum, the assumption this isn’t about money for me.” But I wouldn’t say no to you telling me more about spirits. “Despite your stereotypical view of people in this city, there are people who help others because they believe it’s the right thing to do.”

Atabey shot Sedna a reproachful look and held up gratefully clasped hands to me. “We,” she stressed, “do. Trust you, that is. We had nothing to offer and yet you risked your life to help us.” She frowned back at Sedna. “People out for a payoff don’t do that.” She looked into my eyes. “Thank you truly, both for saving us and for giving us a place to stay. You even lent us your clothes. I promise to one day repay this generosity.”

Somewhat mollified, I gestured downstairs. “I have some things to put away in the store before I close up for the night. If you need anything else just ask.” Leaving the girls to talk amongst themselves, I went back down to the store and put away the few purchases I’d made that morning. The ones that hadn’t been incinerated anyway. When I finally carried the nietolux lamp back upstairs, they were all asleep. I soon joined them, drifting off by the time my head hit the pillow.

Chapter 17

Cleric Farrow cups my cheek with a gentle hand. The smooth young flesh twitches and I shiver under his palm. I wait for his scarred mouth to drip the familiar line. His voice, deceptively kind, will croon, praise and comfort. He will promise change, guarantee that he is being healed by me as I too am healed by him. His voice will be low and sweet, like oozing honey. I wait for the familiar line.

“Oh, child,” He croons, his voice hitching as he strokes his thumb across my cheek. “I am, so sorry, today is a day of both loss and gain.” His hand moves back to his side, as if he needs space to continue. “I did not wish for this, to be parted from you. I will be lost without you to heal my troubled mind my beautiful child. I shall weep for our loss of our comfort. However, this is for the betterment of all, for though I am pained by it today, Those Above do as they do for the good of the city. With that in mind, you and I must remember that they have a reason for taking you from my care.” A small faint shiver runs through me. This is not the familiar line. This was not wheedling, cajoling or even if my instincts could be trusted, lying. This was change, this was something bad. In a contrite voice, he continues. “One must bend with the will of Those Above, but please sweet child, worry not, for while they take, they also reward the faithful.” He steps away, to open the door. Not the inner door to the moldy room where we kids are kept, or the side door that leads to the Cleric’s chambers, but the heavy metal door that leads outside.

Uniformed men enter, their boots thudding loudly on the stone floor. Their faces are locked in a flat expression, emotionless or distasteful, I can’t quite tell. The voice the shorter one uses to address Cleric Farrow is clipped and impatient. It takes my mind a few moments to catch up, matching words to meaning. It’s only after they have finished, that my mind makes the connection. I was being sold. Kids who were sold didn’t come back. Didn’t see their friends again. I didn’t want that. No matter how bad things got here, at least I had my friends. The thought of never seeing them again… I rush to the inner door. I make about five steps before a hand grabs the back of my shirt. One of the strange men hoists me over his shoulder and my instincts kick in. I begin to thrash but he just grunts and drops me. I bounce once and then the world goes dark as he kicks me in the head. Some part of me is dimly aware that I’m being carried out of the room. Carried into pain, darkness, and the killing cold. The heavy metal door slams behind us with a bang.

***

The sound followed me out of the nightmare. Repeating in rapid succession. It took me a confused second to figure out that someone was pounding on my shop’s door. I think if I’d known what awaited me, I would have ignored the knocking and kept my door securely locked. Wishes and wings. I heard the others stir.

“Who is it?” Sedna tersely croaked. I could hear her shifting and could imagine she was getting ready for a fight. I also didn’t miss the suspicion in her voice. “Were you expecting someone?”

“I don’t know, and no.” I opened the clothes drawer with some scrabbling and slipped on my coat. I unsheathed a dagger and held flipped it around in my grip so that the blade rested along my arm, concealed in the sleeve.

A voice I’d thought to never hear again, called my name softly from outside. My steps slowed on the stairs. No sense rushing down to an unwelcomed inconvenience. I approached the door slowly. I would have rather it been the Cleric. Or anyone else. My hand hesitated a moment while I took a bracing breath. Reluctantly I opened the door, but only enough for my glare to reach the Gutter fish who stood on the other side. The flerae pirate was uncomfortably close, leaning languidly against the door frame. Sparkling moss green eyes, tightened at the sight of me. Absurdly, I felt a ripple of anger that he still appeared as gorgeous as I remembered. After what he’d done to me, I thought, or perhaps hoped, that I’d be visibly repulsed by the mere sight of him. Disappointingly, the legendary flerae beauty remained visibly undiminished. Flowing, vibrant golden hair. White skin, like that of a fresh snowfall. His tall, athletic body had even filled out some. The expensive clothes he wore, had clearly been masterfully tailored to his lanky frame. I felt my mouth twitch, jerking down in annoyance. He could have at least had the courtesy to look a little more worn from being a wanted fugitive. Yet here he was, seemingly without a care in the world. Assuredly bringing yet more trouble in his wake. The pit inside me went from sleeping soundly to writhing angerly against my control. My arm holding the knife began to itch. I could do it. Lash out. Unleash the beast that clawed inside me upon his finely clothed form. Yet then there would be questions. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. Wrenching back control from my irresponsible, bloodthirsty, feelings I reminded myself that I had appearances to keep up. A part to play. Besides, there were other ways I could bring him misfortune. I knew of more than a few people throughout the city who would love to have a chat with, former, citizen Lucal. Some of them from his previous crew. It was foolish of him to show his face here, even at this hour. Lucal may be many things but he rarely played the fool. So why, of all places, come to my store? Better yet why return to this city at all? The now infamous captain of the airship Sunsinker, he was supposed to have bought residence in a city across the great ocean. Was it risk, or reward that drove him now? Whatever the reason, I wanted no part of it. I was about to shut the door in his face when he burst into movement. With a flourish worthy of the Noblesse theater, he leapt back, out of the doorway. Flaring his arms out wide, he straightened his legs in one graceful movement. Then he bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Vae, my cherished love, my life has been a barren wasteland without your presence.” His wicked lips spread into a grin that provoked tarnished memories of our more lustful nights. “You are the flowers, the streams and all that was beautiful in my dreams.” He smiled showing his glistening teeth.

I almost smiled at how little his words affected me. Oh, Maw take me, he was undeniably gorgeous, and I could reluctantly admit nothing short of etching acid was changing that. Apart from their monochromatic skin, flerae also had a tendency toward developing taller, thinner frames and longer ears when compared to humes. All traits that I found wildly appealing. Thankfully though, I was armed now with the knowledge of what lied inside his flesh. Whether in him or the Gutter, filth was filth. “And so, the great pirate returns, humble and contrite.” My voice was colder than the metal I stood on. Gritting my teeth, I fortified my control over the wrath that writhed within my breast and mind.

“Ah, my cranky Alchemist,” His face grew sorrowful, “I cannot express how much it has pained me to stay from your side for so long. Great has been my regret over the events that forced me to leave you.” He glided closer laying his hands on either side of the doorway. “I would not want to wake your neighbors with my vigorous and profound apology though, will you let me in?” His voice went low, and resurrected blackened memories that sought to crack my frozen emotions. They failed miserably.

“Well I might just let you in, if you do something for me.” I batted my lashes at him leaning closer. Voice dropping to a tauntingly low husk, I baited him. “Would you like me to tell you how to get through this door?”

“Oh yes, very much so my flower.”

“Its actually remarkably simple, you just go back in time,” I froze the honey in my voice with a thick coat of frost, “and don’t push me into the bloody Maw.” I straightened abruptly, “Then you don’t bring the clerics down on me before disappearing for two, bloody, years.” I smiled nastily letting all my wrath flow into it. “Try your luck with that version of me. She might be more willing to hear you out.”

His face turned injured, his mouth drooping in a feigned pout. “Now Vae, don’t be so cross without even hearing me out, there were extenuating circumstances.” He glanced quickly into the darkness and lowered his voice. His tone became caramel, and I felt, much to my personal embarrassment, a faint pain score my heart. “I had to leave suddenly Vae and there was no way to let you know before hand. I can imagine the villain you must think me to be but please, at the very least hear me out. You owe me that much at least.”

“I owe you it?” Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my voice from climbing. “I don’t owe you anything you, you flaky fairy! You did a job and ran. You took what we had and threw it in the bloody Gutter. Just, to, fill, your, pockets.” I bit out, jabbing a finger in his direction. Teeth clenched, I hissed out a breath, struggling to keep from raising my voice further. “You made the decision of what was more important to you. I’ve learned though. I’ve learned how people who care for each other behave. I’ve learned that if you care for someone, you don’t trade them, for some filthy coins.” I crossed my arms to hide the shudder of emotions roiling through me. “Now do as you did before and leave.”

My blood seething, we stared at each other in silence for a long moment. I was about to lose it when he sighed lowering his head. “Vae if there was any way I could have taken you with me I would have, you have to believe me. My journey after leaving here was no place for someone like you. You wouldn’t have had any comfort or security, the clerics and mercs were hot on my trail. The interest in me has just died down. I hurried back as soon as it did and I’m here now. I know its later than you’d like but isn’t what we have worth the wait?”

It took a monumental act of disciplined restraint to keep myself from stabbing him. “Had, Lucal. What we had. If you were capable of actually listening to me, you would have heard the part where I told you, exactly what ruined us. It wasn’t you leaving me behind. It was you pulling that job in the first place. You chose to do it without telling, warning or even protecting me from the consequences of your actions.” I took a breath and hissed. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? After the first day I figured something had come up and waited. After the second I went looking for you. I went level by level visiting every place we had ever gone together. After the fifth day I began to bribe mercenaries. I figured you’d gotten caught, so I tried to find out if you were in the Cog. I even—” I stopped myself before I let it slip that I’d nearly destroyed my relationship with William trying to get information. “I called in every favor I had, and some I didn’t. I was devastated. Then,” I let out a grim cough of a laugh, “I learned the truth. Or rather the truth found me.” He straightened at that, but even as he opened his mouth, I spoke over him. “Yes, I found out about your “Heist of the century”. I found out about how you’d lost your bloody mind and stolen from the Clerics. Scheisse Lucal. Do you want to know how I found out, finally, after a week of losing my mind? I got a very unfriendly visit from the Cleric investigating you. You cannot even ima—” I clicked my mouth shut. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “I have wanted to tell you one thing though. I think that what we had, was worth infinitely more than whatever that job paid.” I couldn’t ignore one last jab. “I find it cathartically hilarious that you didn’t even get the coin in the end.” I smiled brightly at him. “Hennso says hi by the way.”

“Hennso… How do you know Hennso, Vae?” He said sounding slightly panicked.

Only chuckling evilly in reply, I began to shut the door.

“Now wait…”

I glared at him. “Screw waiting, been there done that, you seem to excel at leaving without a word, so please, do that now.” I focused on stiffening my spine, trying to ignore the faint phantom ache in my heart.

He stepped back. A disappointed grimace on his face. “Okay. I’ll return another day. Its obvious that I’ve upset you, so lets both cool our tongues for the moment. This however,” his hand gestured between us, “isn’t over.” With that parting comment he spun and strode into the predawn darkness.

Shutting the door with my back, I laughed bitterly into my hands, tears streaming freely down my face. I slumped against the door and let the complex emotions that had festered inside since his disappearance, drain away with my tears. Thankfully, my pit of anger behaved for once. I jumped when I felt a soft hand touch my shoulder. Through a watery screen I peered up to find Atabey leaning over me. She never spoke, she just rhythmically rubbed small soothing circles with her hand. In retrospect, I think that was the moment I began to really care what happened to her. It was such a small thing, but I somehow knew even then, that I would be forever grateful for Atabey gifting me with that gentle moment of compassion.

“That sounded like trouble.”

I jumped under Atabey’s hand at the sound of Sedna’s disapproving voice. I narrowed my eyes up at her shadowy outline. “Nothing to worry about. And nothing that concerns you.”

She tisked. “It concerns us if people are going to keep showing up looking to settle old quarrels with you.”

She wasn’t wrong, but I was in no mood to hear it. “Go back to bed Sedna. If you think you’re better off without me, I’ll send you off at sunrise with a smile.” I tilted my head challengingly. My mouth sliding into a vicious smile. “Unless you think you’re good enough to survive these streets in the dark?”

Sedna pulled her shoulders back, turned, and stomped back upstairs without another word. I didn’t think so. I shifted my attention back to Atabey. She’d stopped moving her hand, letting it rest limply on my shoulder. Worry tensed her face. Oh, scheisse she probably thought I meant her too. I brought my hand up to cup over hers. “Each of you are welcome to leave when you want, or stay.” I gave her hand a squeeze and said my next words slowly and clearly. “Together, or separately.” I caught her gaze making sure she got my meaning.

A jumble of emotions crossed her face. “I,” she cleared her throat, “thank you Vaeronica.” She gave my shoulder a rub. “Sedna is thankful too, she’s just.” She shrugged helplessly. “I think she feels obligated to get us all back home safely. The responsibility, on top of everything else is,” she gave me an apologetic smile, “its wearing on her.”

I sighed. Could I really blame her? I patted Atabey’s hand once more, then steeled my spine and stood up. I would have sulked back to my bed if I’d thought there was even a chance of getting back to sleep. Might as well get some things done if I wasn’t. First off, I needed to put on some proper clothes.

Mostly with spatial memory and some feeling around, I lit the lantern that hung over the counter. It was one of those fancy ones meant for multiple uses, the top compartment storing one half of the nietolux compound and the bottom compartment filled with the other. I opened the top iris latch letting some of the heavy powder fall through, then shut the latch, flipped the lantern, and did the same with the other side. Closing the bottom latch, I righted the lantern and gave it a gentle shake. Light bloomed in the glass enclosure. A merry quiet tapping of applause shocked me, and I almost fell over the counter.

“Oh, sorry,” Atabey managed to get out between giggles, “its just, I’ve never seen one of those before.”

A dramatic hand over my still pounding heart, I cocked my head quizzically. “Don’t they have niteolux in your city?” I had just kind of assumed it was a staple of every city.

“No,” she shook her head and shrugged, “most of the lanterns there are lit with gases. There might be some in the homes of the older families, but I was never welcome in any of those.”

She didn’t extrapolate and I didn’t ask what the deal was with these ‘old families’. “I’m not going to find anymore sleep tonight so I thought I’d do some work here, but you don’t have to stay up. There’s time for you to get a few more hours of sleep if you want.”

Atabey hummed her refusal, looking at the floor before asking, “If it’s no trouble, may I stay and help?”

I shrugged with a nod. For about an hour, I stress cleaned with Atabey’s silent help until the shop sparkled in the cold light of the lamp. Still anxious I finally gave up polishing the counter, for the umpteenth time, and began preparing some alchemic compounds for the hospitals order. After about an hour of having Atabey quietly study me, I asked if she wanted to learn a bit of alchemy. She had some reluctance at first but after assuring her that there would be no explosions involved, she snuck back upstairs and quietly grabbed one of my stools. Upon her return she seated herself on the other side of the counter. A look of hungry curiosity on her face. It was a look that I decided I found to my liking. Having never taught before, I started with a basic explanation of what I was doing. After answering her questions, I showed her how to do it, then let her try her hand at it. She worked on preparing the raw ingredients while I extracted the needed essences from what she prepared. We’d lapsed back into silence when I surprised myself by asking. “What was your life like before, in your city?” From the way the others had talked, I had a hunch Atabey may have had a different experience than Sedna or Tia.

She looked down at her fingers that were lacing and unlacing. “I’m maybe not the best person to ask. I’m an—” She looked away and then down at the vials on the counter.

I winced at the early stumble to my question. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

Her head swayed side to side and a stray lock of hair fell from behind one of her ears. “No, I, I just don’t want you to treat me differently. You’ve been so kind.”

I grinned at her. “I’m not going to treat you differently unless you tell me you’re a Cleric. I think the chances of that happening, are slim to none.”

Her lips curved up shyly. With a nod, almost as if confirming her own thoughts, she looked up and smiled. “It wasn’t bad. The halls are always filled with people eager to share a song or tell a story. There’s no shortage of food or drink and no matter your situation there is always a bed for you.” She smiled at some memory before getting a quizzical look on her face. “Did your information on us, include anything on our social structure?”

“Not much. I think there was something about every family in the city getting to elect,” I smiled apologetically as I searched my mind for the right word, “a representative member? Then all the elected people form a council? I’m not butchering it too, badly am I?”

“Oh, no. That was pretty accurate.” She shifted on the stool. “We call the elected people, Speakers. About the only other thing to add, is that how historically old a Speaker’s family is, decides how strong their voice is in the council.”

“Okay. How old is your family?” I hesitantly asked.

Atabey’s smile slipped off her face. I opened my mouth to apologize, to tell her that she didn’t have to answer but she spoke up before I could. “I’m an orphan.”

In three words I got it. In a society built on family connections, a person without a family would be the bottom rung of the social ladder. Her body shuddered, and she ran a hand over her face, dashing away unshed tears.

I barely heard her murmur. “If you don’t have family, you don’t get included in a lot of traditions.” Sniffling loudly, she straightened her shoulders and regarded me from across the counter. Continuing at a louder volume, only a slight emotional edge tinted her voice. “It could have been much worse though. All the families helped keep me clothed, fed and sheltered as I grew up. The adults never purposely made me feel unwelcome or outcast.” She shrugged a shoulder. “If anything, it was only when I became an adult that I started noticing the, limitations. Only certain jobs were allowed. Only certain areas were available for me to live in. That sort of thing.”

I patted her arm consolingly. “There’s no, I guess, adoption? A way for you to become part of an existing family?”

She shook her head. “Aside from marriage, no. There are even laws against it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been limited in life like that Atabey.” I caught her eyes with my own. “I’ve only known you a few hours, but I can already tell you have a lot of potential inside. Anyone who doesn’t see that is either blind or a fool.”

Her face softened and her lips quavered. “Thank you for that Vaeronica. I think I needed to hear that.”

“You’re more than welcome Atabey. And, as an orphan myself, I feel compelled to add that there is more to a family than having the same blood.” I smiled at the shocked look on her face before returning my eyes to the work in front of me. “Its my opinion, that we choose our families. Consciously or otherwise. We decide, who we are willing to form those bonds with. Who we are willing to take risks for. Who we seek comfort from. Who we share our minds with. Who we choose to walk beside as we journey through life. Who we love.” I glanced up at her again catching her eyes. “Blood may give us life, but it doesn’t decide what we do with it. Families aren’t just something you’re assigned at birth. They can be found, and they can be made.”

I was happy to see that the words seemed to have an impact on Atabey. She set the pestle she was holding down into the mortar. “Did you make a new family Vaeronica?”

I laughed. “I’m not sure if I can say I made it, but I did find one. If you end up sticking around for a while, perhaps I can introduce you to them.”

Atabey’s mouth stretched into a smile. “I’d like that. Very much.”

Chapter 18

Having finished with preparing the ingredients for me, I set Atabey to helping me conduct an inventory audit while I continued with the finer aspects of the healing potions for the hospital. I was fiddling with the athanor’s temperature, incrementally adjusting the ethane gas valve, when a brisk rap sounded on the door. I paused, eyes locked on the mercury gauge. Not moving my gaze, I reached into my blouse for my watch. With an awkward maneuver I brought the time piece up into view beside the gauge. It was seconds past the time I usually opened. It could just be a customer. Or not. I darted a look at Atabey who’s fearful eyes were flickering between me and the door. I tilted my head meaningfully to the stairs. She nodded, setting the slate and chalk on the counter. She quietly loped up and I heard a terse series of whispers from the trio. Nudging the furnace temperature down a little, I put my watch away and swept around the counter, gliding over to unlock the door. Two men stood there. The first, a tall dark skinned hume, had tight curly hair peaking out from under the brim of his green tricorn hat. The other was shorter than me and looked vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place him though. “Good morning gentlemen, forgive me I was a little late with opening the store for the day.” Merchant’s mask firmly in place, I deepened the smile a little. “Please, come in and welcome to my store.” I motioned them in and traced my way back behind the counter. I let them look around for a moment while I studied them. Specifically, the one I felt like I should know. Brown hair and eyes. A short rough beard covering well tanned skin. His Indus clothes were worn but had been well made when new. A returning customer perhaps? The taller one turned to me and approached the counter. I gestured to its cluttered surface covered in alchemical instruments and tools. “Apologies for the mess. Now what can I help you gentlemen find?”

The man flashed a smile and planted his hands on the lip of the counter. He was tall enough that the pose bent him a little and brought his face closer. “Such a nice store you have here. It shows that you have put quite a bit of work into the place.”

Flattery was it? “How kind of you to say.” I gestured about with a palm up. “I do my best, keeping a wide selection of potions stocked and carrying one of the widest selections of ingredients for many simple non-magical remedies and poultices. Were you looking for something in particular?”

“Indeed, I am, I doubt however, that you’ll have it in stock. I’ve actually come by with something, you,” He gestured to me, “may be interested in.”

A supplier? I really hoped he was only trying to sell me something. Then this paranoid suspicion would be proven wrong. “What type of merchandise do you deal in?”

His cheeks drew high. “All kinds, I have deep ties with many of the traders who base themselves out of the Indus sea docks. But for you,” he flourished a hand as if presenting me with an invisible gift, “what I’m offering is a service.”

I raised an eyebrow cocking my head. “Oh?”

“Yes, an opportune,” he held up a hand in cautionary gesture, “limited time, offer. If we come to an understanding today, I can offer you a prestigious position on a research project that will make your career. In addition to ample laboratory space, a sizeable financial budget and ample pay, you will also be provided with,” he paused and smiled like a child with a secret, “protection. From any party or,” his eyes narrowed, “organization.”

What was going on? Why would this guy make an offer like that? More importantly, how did he know to offer it? Was he with the Gentry? Or was this another party, finally showing their face? I clasped my hands. With the left over the back of my right wrist, it minimized the distance to the hilt of my thin wrist knife. “You seem to have been misinformed good sir. I have no intention of leaving my current occupation and am quite happy running my shop here.” I looked between him and his friend. Inanely I adjusted an empty vial, sliding it a hair to the right. “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake or miscommunication, perhaps you mistook my store for another.”

“No, no mistake has been made Alchemist Artisan Vaeronica.” The tall man took a step back from the counter. “But please, where are my manners. My name is Citizen Erheer of the Kaur and my associate here is Captain Lovif.”

Dim, cloudy, fragments of memories weakly glittered in my mind. There was a flash of a child frowning down at me. Brown hair and eyes. Had I known this Lovif? Then the importance of the other name hit me. Erheer of the Kaur. Raina had mentioned him. The Kaur were a street gang in the Ortsua section of Indus. The sea touched sector directly below where we stood now. Raina’s description of him as ‘an ugly, twisted man’ must have been referring to his personality, not what he looked like. Yet even knowing who he was, I still didn’t know his connection to recent events, or purpose here. “Citizen Erheer, your reputation, proceeds you.”

He beamed at me. “Excellent! It expedites business when both parties know who they are dealing with. I do abhor wasting time needlessly.”

It was a bit of a struggle to keep my merchant’s mask on. “As do I Citizen Kaur. Though I remain confused as to why you’re under the assumption that I am seeking work?” I made a show of glancing about meaningfully.

“Oh come now, Alchemist Vaeronica, between us I don’t think there is any need for coyness.”

He seemed to be under the impression I knew what in the Maw he was talking about. I looked over at the man called Lovif. He still hadn’t said a word and was inspecting some of the herbs drying on the ceiling. I shifted my attention back to Erheer and put the confusion I felt onto my mask. “Meaning no disrespect, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to get at.”

Erheer made a noise in his throat. “Perhaps not,” he said consideringly, “I’m not sure if that is bravery or naivety?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Either way, please allow me to enlighten you. My people tell me that you’ve been approached by a Cleric.” Oh no. “One who is investigating your late mentor and the research he was conducting.”

Scheisse. What was an Indus gang lord’s interest in that mess? “Yes, I was, and yes he is.”

He made a motion as if to say, ‘well there you go’.

I struggled to keep the merchant’s mask together. “You will need to expand on that as I am still confused. A cleric asked some questions. What about that would make you think I need, protection?”

Erheer grimaced. “I’d hoped you were smart enough to do basic math Vaeronica. With what the Church has found in Alchemist Krutov’s lab, do you really believe they will let you continue to operate your store? You will be lucky if you see the inside of the Cog.” What? I felt a pang of envy. How could he know what the Cleric had found? I almost cracked my teeth in frustration. Should I try to buy the information from him? Erheer planted a hand back on the counter and gestured to himself with the other. “I can see you safely to shelter and out of their reach. Not to mention my generous offer of work to re-establish yourself. You will be free to continue practicing alchemy, instead of rotting below or far below the ground.” He finished with a hint of menace.

How much to reveal about my lack of information? I wanted to know what had been in that lab, yet it could be worse to let this upstart gutter swimmer know how deep my ignorance ran. Or let on that I had secrets to fear at all. I decided to focus on one of the other questions bothering me. “You certainly have obtained quite a bit of information regarding this matter.” I tilted my head. “It begs the question why? What is you’re interest in this investigation? One, that to me, seems to have nothing to do with you?”

His mouth flattened into a line, his tone grew terse, and his eyes hardened. “I’m trying to help you, Vaeronica. You would be wise to accept my generosity rather than roll the dice.”

“I am still not sure why I need it, or why you’re offering it Citizen Erheer.” I put a bit of confusion into my voice.

His face darkened like a storm cloud. He opened his mouth but shut it as a clatter sounded down the stairs. I wanted to slap a palm on my face. What was she thinking? Sedna confidently strode up to Erheer and held out her hand in greeting. It didn’t escape my notice that Lovif’s hand had gone for something under his long coat at her appearance.

“Apologies, Sir, but I was upstairs and overheard that you are able to offer sanctuary? Even from this city’s most influential groups?” Sedna didn’t even glance my way. She had no frame of reference to know who she was talking to, and I’d even told her I would put them in touch with a reliable group. After all I’d done, did she mistrust me so much as to prefer the help of a complete stranger? Erheer’s gang would be the last people I’d have chosen. The Kaur’s had a reputation for dealing in bad faith. That said, she lacked my knowledge and I had to admit, on the surface Erheer looked and sounded closer to a noble than the Gutter fish he was.

Erheer quickly recovered and took on a pleasant demeanour. He took her hand in both of his for a seemingly warm greeting. “It seems the apology is mine to make my lady.” He looked quickly back at me before switching his full attention to Sedna. “I was unaware that Alchemist Vaeronica was entertaining guests.” He shook his head with false remorse. “And here I’ve been taking all her time. If you missed it, my name is Citizen Erheer and I do have significant influence. May I inquire as to your name my lady?”

She smiled up at him. “Sedna Saka’am.”

It was subtle but he reacted to her name. Erheer raised her hand and brushed it with his lips. “The honor is mine, Lady Sedna. Such a unique and beautiful name for a rare exotic beauty! It saddens me that you find yourself in need of protection, however I would never turn down the opportunity to be of assistance to a maiden in need.” He gave her a quizzical look. “Are your troubles related to those of your friend’s?” He asked gesturing to me.

I decided to try and stop the woman from making what I suspected was a large mistake. “Sedna,” I cautioned warningly, “we had discussed some other options already.” I looked at Erheer but kept speaking to her. “I’m not sure Citizen Erheer, will be able to facilitate your passage for the funds you have available to you.” I was tempted to add more, yet I also didn’t want to insult Erheer to his face. While based in Indus, his visit today proved he could reach me if he so wanted. Blatantly making an enemy of the man would be foolish indeed.

“Now now, Alchemist Vaeronica let’s not jump to any conclusions.” Erheer said pleasantly with a sickeningly sweet tone. “I happen to excel at making deals happen regardless of the client’s, wealth or assets.”

Sedna jumped on that. “I may not have much to offer upfront as,” she flashed me a glare, “she said, “however on arrival, I will be able to pay for shelter and what I understand to be an expensive journey.”

“There!” Erheer exclaimed proudly. “See Alchemist Vaeronica, with a bit of compromise and trust, it’s quite easy to ensure that both parties’ profit from seemingly unfavorable transactions.”

I caught the barely hidden double meaning. I wanted to forbid Sedna from dealing with him, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Right now, Erheer was unsure whether I was oblivious to the danger of the Cleric’s investigation, or under the belief that I could handle it. I had a feeling this façade of harmlessness would shatter quickly if I chose to flat out opposed him. I could read between the lines. Continuing to assist the Cleric, would be seen as a hostile action by Erheer. He had a significant stake in events. Though I still had no idea what those events were. Sedna interrupted my internal conflict by gushing her thanks before running upstairs. We all heard her excitedly tell the others the news.

When Atabey’s voice began to argue, Erheer turned to me. “Just how many guests were you entertaining?”

With a shrug I only gave the vague reply. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we.”

“Will you at least consider my offer to you?”

I faced my merchant’s mask his way. “I can’t make such a dire decision so quickly Citizen Erheer. Could you be persuaded to give me a little more time?”

He never got to reply as Sedna and Tia came down the stairs. Sedna gestured to her. “This is my companion Tia, she’s in the same situation as me.”

Erheer took it in stride. “Lady Tia. An absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Citizen Erheer, I will be the one helping you and the lady Sedna here.” Tia mumbled her thanks, but I don’t know if Erheer even heard her. He had returned his focus to Sedna. “Will Alchemist Vaeronica’s other guest be joining us as well?”

Sedna seemed to deflate a little, but only for a moment. Her chin lifted quickly. “No. Tia and I will be the only ones.” She moved forward seizing Erheer’s hand from his side, holding it in hers. “I don’t mean to push your generosity, but would it be possible for us to leave with you now?” She shot a dirty look my way. “I would hate to impose on Vaeronica further.”

“Oh of course my lady!” He set his free hand on top of hers. “If you are prepared, we can head directly to my establishment, and we will see to getting you on the first available ship.”

She simply glowed with gratitude. I checked in with myself and found I wasn’t that conflicted about letting this arrogant woman be led off by someone who would almost certainly betray her. Despite how harsh it sounds, I was almost feeling better about the day. Then the Cleric walked in.

***

The air seemed to dry up instantly, or at least my mouth did. The Cleric slowly strode in, pausing when Erheer turned. Their gazes collided. I imagined the air cracking between them. Tendrils of tension spiked out spreading through the entire store. The hair on my body stood straight up. The last time I’d felt this was when I’d accidentally created Pele’s Tears. That edge, that precarious balance between life and death. A wrong look and my shop would explode. “Cleric, Dathu, good day to you!” I deepened my merchant mask’s smile. There was the dying spark of a thought that I could have the Cleric kill Erheer and his man right here. However, in the aftermath, the Cleric would undoubtedly have questions. Lots of uncomfortable questions that would likely leave me lacking life. My eyes swung between the two men. Such an outcome my come to pass regardless of my actions. I’d heard of love at first sight, was the opposite possible too? Or, perhaps, did they already know one another? Fear grasped my spine painfully, clawing its way down my body. I turned back to Erheer. “Sorry I could not be of more assistance Citizen. If you have other needs though please don’t hesitate to return.” I willed him to do the smart thing.

Thankfully Erheer obliged. “Oh, no worries Alchemist. One can’t expect to find everything they need in one store. We’ll be on our way.” He dipped his upper body in a flawless half bow, a polite smile on a mask as false as mine. He swept a hand toward the door, addressing the women. “Ladies, please, after you.”

My hand, hidden by the counter, clenched hard. I couldn’t give them any further warning now though. Tia and I met eyes one last time. I gave her a small nod for luck as Sedna took her hand and stalked out the door. With a façade of friendliness Erheer ducked his head to the Cleric and followed. Lovif trailed him out with but the briefest nod to the Cleric. I truly did wish the two women luck. They were going to need it. The Cleric’s attention followed the four of them. I didn’t like that look of, contemplation, in his eyes. “Cleric Dathu, apologies for the wait. I had meant to be closed again by the time you arrived.”

“Not a problem Vaeronica. Are you ready to go?”

Go to Indus. Atabey. Scheisse. Thoughts screeched through my mind. Buying some time to think I busied my body with shutting off the furnace and halting the process. It would waste some of the components, but I had bigger concerns. I could leave Atabey here. A risk to trust her, but one that was acceptable. Unless Erheer doubled back. Or her kidnappers caught wind. There was no time to take her to my sanctuary. Didn’t trust her that much anyways. So that left? I refocused on the Cleric. Yes, there was a possibility here. A full escort straight into the Ash Family’s territory. That is, if the Cleric would allow it. The request needed to be handled delicately. “I am all set Cleric, Dathu. However, I would beg one small boon if you will allow it?” All clerics liked hearing the word ‘beg’.

His regard doubled in weight. The pit quivered inside me. “As long as it is reasonable Vaeronica, what do you need.”

“My shop assistant,” who I hoped was still listening, “was planning to visit family in Indus. With the, inherent risk on the lower level, I was hoping she could travel with us at least part of the way? We’ll be traveling to that area anyway, so it won’t slow you at all.” I finished in a rush, infusing my mask with what I hoped was a pleading countenance. I’d grown rusty at the expression. In my defence it’d been over a decade.

The Cleric considered my words a moment before his lips curled up. “Of course! That is no trouble at all.” He looked past me to the stairs. “Is she here?”

I bobbed my head gratefully. I didn’t even have to fake it. “Yes, I will just grab her, then we can be away.” I slid out from behind the counter quickly. In my mind I double checked the risk versus reward equation of taking Atabey to Raina’s one more time. It seemed sound. The reward was light, but Raina would be pleas—. Did the Cleric just sniff me! It took everything I had not to freeze. My next step was a little heavier, but I counted it a victory. Why had he done that? I couldn’t smell that bad. We were going into Indus anyway. Who cared what I smelled like? Maybe he just had a cold. I rushed up the stairs and put the weird moment from my mind. Atabey was crouched, wide eyed, at the top of the stairs. I didn’t have another coat for her, so I grabbed one of the gray ‘cloaks’ from yesterday. Wrapping it over my clothes that she wore, I whispered in her ear. “You’re my shop assistant. You have a small apartment in Ortsua, that this section of Comra, this level of the city. Don’t speak unless spoken to. The guy in the white coat is a Cleric, address him only with his title and act a little scared.” There was so much to tell her, if only I had the time. “You’re visiting family. When we get down there you will start to see small clusters of really well dressed people in black and purple with matching tall hats. When I see them, I’ll say goodbye to you, and we’ll separate. You need to approach these people and ask to be taken to Raina.” I grabbed her shoulders. “Got it?”

Her confused, distraught expression was disheartening. “I-I-I don’t know, maybe?” She warbled. “I’m to ask these people to take me to someone named Raina?”

“Alchemist Vaeronica?” The Cleric called up from below.

“Coming!” I called back sanguinely. I bit my lip and whispered. “Group of people dressed in black and purple, with a purple ribbon around their tall hats. Ask to be taken to Raina’s Bakery. Raina’s Bakery. She’ll keep you till I can get free of the Cleric.” I patted her shoulders and pushed her toward the stairs. Was I setting us both up for failure? No, this was going to work. It’d be fine. Everything would work out. I hate lying to myself.

***

Locking the store behind me, we joined the Cleric, who’d been accompanied by his patrol of mercenaries, and headed for the skytrain station. The company meant the walkways seemed almost empty. People went to great lengths to get out of the way. One young man even flipped himself over the safety rail, nodding fearfully to us as he clung to the other side of the metal barricade. When we reached the skytrain, our group bypassed the line. Today the attendant was a worn looking woman and I pitied her as she shakily informed the waiting passengers that the next car would be full. When the skytrain rumbled to a stop a few minutes later, the mercenaries callously cleared it of people. Our group trooped aboard, and I had to subtly coax Atabey on. I didn’t blame her though. My first time had been frightening too. Taking a seat near the door I pulled her down into a seat beside me and got ready for the trip across the sectors. My thoughts were only half on the people around me. I was juggling orbs of fulminating silver now. A slip and boom. I desperately hoped Valetin was nowhere to be found. I also hoped that the Cleric wouldn’t catch on to Atabey’s foreignness. And more than anything, I hoped I wouldn’t have another episode. With the close proximity of the Cleric, the dark well inside me was trembling restlessly. We didn’t even slow for the platform at the next section. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised there was an override of some kind. A grinding noise and sudden jolt told me we’d reached the Aiera sector’s skytrain platform. From there it was an anxiety riddled journey inward. The Aiera sector lift was of a purely functional nature. Yet its engineering was to me a form of art in and of itself. Built directly against the city’s core, alchemically augmented steel cables, and an ouroboros chain linkage, moved a cycle of platforms between the three major tiers of the city. We approached the descending side of the lift, moving off the connecting bridge road toward the long line of pedestrian users. I was moving toward the end of the line when a strong hand landed on my shoulder. I instinctively flinched away from it before I could control my reaction. The merc who’d touched me pointed forward, drawing my attention to the Cleric. Rather than joining the line he bypassed it. I should have guessed. We got some dirty looks, but not where the Cleric could see them. It didn’t take more than a few minutes of uncomfortable silence for a platform to fall level with us. Most of it was just open space bordered by a safety rail. Slaves rushed in, transferring freight on and off with a frenzy. We skirted the demarked loading zone, heading to the very back and into the passenger cabin. Just three rows of padded benches, it was spartan yet not uncomfortable. Our party took up only half the available seating but no one else entered after the last of our mercs. It’s good to be elite, I guess. The lift dropped into motion. Through the window, thick metal structural components passed in front of my face as we dropped through Comra’s floor, into the support platform below. Hanging like an intricate web, the mass of metal spread in every direction, providing support for all of Comra’s buildings, ring roads and connecting bridge streets. The lift slowed to a stop regularly on our way down. At each pause my fears inexplicably rose only to fall as soon as we started moving again. Perhaps it was the close quarters or the continually dimming light. Maybe it was the fragile situation. With Atabey here, I had someone, besides myself, whose words and actions I had to scrutinize. Whatever the cause, the stress was fraying my strained mental state. The brooding Cleric certainly didn’t help. There was one soothing balm, however. The encroaching darkness. It calmed me. So much so that I almost jumped when the Cleric spoke.

“I don’t believe I caught your assistant’s name Alchemist Vaeronica.”

I turned my merchant’s mask to him. “Atabey.” I’d had sometime to think about it, and I’d decided the fewer lies, the better. The name didn’t really sound foreign if you thought she was a city native. One of the few great things about this rotting city was how many ancient cultures had come together at its founding.

“Citizen Atabey, have you been in Alchemist Vaeronica’s employ for long?”

I almost answered for her, but she beat me to it. “Not long, Cleric.” She gestured to me. “The chance to help an Alchemist is quite the stroke of luck for me. I can only hope she finds me useful enough to keep around for a while.” She hit him with a smile.

I was immensely pleased with how she wielded truth to suit her. I’d been fearing their inevitable interaction.

The Cleric only nodded. “It’s good that you recognize the fortune Those Above have bestowed. Not many from Indus advance up to Comra at such a young age.” He finished and gave me an uncomfortably pointed look.

Was he implying that the same went for me? Or was I reading into him too deeply. He was proving a hard being to take the measure of.

I decided to change his focus. “How about yourself Cleric Dathu? Have you been with the Church since birth?”

He nodded with a bit of lift to his mouth. “Almost, I was fortunate enough to be selected by Those Above straight from a Church orphanage. One might say I’ve spent my life in the Churches loving arms.”

I held back my snort. We’d obviously experienced extraordinarily side of the Church. I distantly wondered if we’d ever been in the same orphanage. Unlikely. You don’t put good metal in a slag pile, and you don’t take metal for a tool from it either. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it?” For the first time the Cleric looked confused.

I gestured vaguely. “Enjoy being a Cleric. The day by day. Your work.”

He regarded me as if I’d said something daft. “It is a prestigious calling. Just to be of service to the Church is a righteous path. I could not imagine doing anything other.”

Well, no one would credit him with an overactive imagination that’s for sure. I should have left things there, but I pushed one more time. “But do you enjoy it?”

He looked like he was going to repeat the slogan he’d already parroted for a moment. He closed his mouth though and went quiet. “Yes.” He finally said. “I do enjoy it. By helping keep the laws of Those Above I feel that I’m helping to keep our society healthy. A society is its people so therefore, I’m helping to protect every citizen of this wonderful city.”

Somehow, I managed to hide my condescending amusement. Were there no limits to just how much of a tool this one could be? When it finally came time to disembark, I had to restrain myself not to rush out too eagerly. Thankfully, the nature of the lift meant we had to leave it quickly anyway. We moved past the warehouses that encircled the lift landing and into the nietolux lit labyrinth.

Chapter 19

Thank the bloody Maw we didn’t have far to go before I spotted a group of Gentry. “This is where you leave us isn’t it Atabey?” Putting my back to the Gentry I stopped abruptly and pulled Atabey into an enthusiastic hug. She stiffened but didn’t resist. “Behind me, ask for Raina.” I whispered in her ear, before pulling back to say aloud. “Please tell your family hello from me, and be sure to take care down here. You know how I worry.”

Confusion made her reply slow, she rolled with it well though. “Of c-course Alchemist Vaeronica. The same to you and I’ll see you soon.” It wasn’t obvious but her eyes made the statement a question.

I nodded and patted her shoulder, hoping she’d get the subtle answer. As she strode off with confidence or at least a passable counterfeit, I turned to the Cleric. “Thank you for that Cleric Dathu, shall we continue on?” I moved up beside him and started forward.

He paused only a moment before catching up to pace beside me. “Of course, Vaeronica.” I could feel his focus settle on me. “You seem very friendly with your employee.”

“I feel empathy for her.” I gestured to our surroundings. “I know firsthand how difficult it is to ascend from here. If Those Above were kind enough to help me, then is it not my duty and privilege to pass on that kindness?” The words tasted vile. I could feel a nauseating aftertaste that provoked the grumbling well of hatred into bucking against its confines. The Cleric’s continued proximity wasn’t helping any.

“That’s a beautifully optimistic perception of things Vaeronica.” He said warmly. Then fouled the warmth by continuing with, “As long as you remember that it is ultimately the will of Those Above that decides who is chosen to ascend.”

I almost laughed in his face. Those Above would have kept me in the ground if their ‘will’ had anything to do with it. No. Like most things in this city. Money, connections, and luck steered the destiny of all who sheltered behind these walls. I glanced at the Cleric out of the corner of my eye. For perhaps the first time I wondered if the clerics knew this truth too, or believed the lies they preached. To him all I said was. “Naturally, Cleric Dathu.” We lapsed into silence. The traffic parted around our party like water around a boat. Little wonder with the looks on my companions faces. Glaring at the poor people unfortunate enough to be using the streets at the same time as us, both the Cleric and his mercs bore faces of disgust mixed with pure hate. With our terrifying presence clearing the path, we reached the Clinic in half the time it’d taken me. All my luck must have turned fetid because there were Gentry at the clinic. Worse, Gentry I recognized and who’d likely remember me. I sent a quick prayer to Lady Luck pleading for Valetin to be anywhere but inside that building. Myd was resplendent in his black and purple garb, but I would have rather saved the sight for another day. Any other day. The Gentry’s presence also meant that Valetin was likely inside. I began to formulate an escape plan. In my rush I’d forgotten to bring even a single potion. Every step forward felt like a logger’s meter. Each inevitable foot fall bringing me closer to a painful death. Running was out. I was healthy but no way was I outrunning Mercenary Adepts. Terror, my old half forgotten friend wrapped its cold hand around my heart. Each beat became strained as I wracked my brain for a solution. Perhaps this was it. I looked up at the Cleric. I could stab him at least. Oh, it wouldn’t kill him. It might however provoke him into killing me quick. Whatever it took to avoid being back in a cage. We were close enough for the Gentry to notice us now. It felt like being trapped in a vice. Each side coming together, slowly crushing me. I met Myd’s eyes. I couldn’t even tell if my merchant’s mask was still intact. I felt as if my skin had finally gone as white as a Dark Flerae. There must have been something showing because he turned to say something to the group. They snapped straight as quick as any merc, fanning out, leaving Myd by himself in front of the clinic. Less Gentry didn’t stop the vice from continuing to close. It only took one to say the wrong thing. Two mercs moved slightly ahead of us, closing in on Myd until they stood just out of arms reach. I had to hand it to Myd, he didn’t even flinch. His only reaction was to raise an eyebrow at them, then he ignored them to focus on me and the Cleric.

The Cleric walked right up to Myd, but when he spoke it was to me. “This is the place Alchemist Vaeronica?”

I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yes, Cleric.”

To Myd he said. “Is this your establishment?”

“No Cleric, I’ve only been asked to watch the door.” His voice was as melodic as I remembered. It lacked even a hint of fear. My opinion of the man increased significantly. It may have just been the terror gripping me, or the stress, but his apparent calm in the face of the Cleric somehow felt like a small victory.

“Who is the owner and where are they?” Dathu was the same height as Myd and I got the feeling he didn’t like that.

“Said his name was Douglas, Cleric, paid me to watch the door for a week but didn’t mention where he was off to.” Hope tore into the terror that had seized me.

“I’m looking for a Citizen named Valetin. Is he here?”

Myd never even blinked. “Don’t recognize the name Cleric. Like I said I was only paid to watch the door.” My patchwork merchant’s mask cracked more as a genuine smile curled the false one further.

“We will be going inside. Do you have a key Citizen?”

Myd’s reply was to produce a key from his pocket and present it to the Cleric. My heart still pounded yet I was once more looking at a tomorrow. I didn’t even mind the fact that I’d be owing Myd a hefty favor. Dathu took the key and handed it to a merc. They unlocked the door and entered cautiously. Two more mercs entered and I went to follow Dathu when he made to enter behind them.

I was surprised when he stopped and turned to me. “If you would please, wait here for a moment Vaeronica.” He said quietly. “I would not want to involve you in a potentially ugly situation.”

I bobbed my head and tried to look appreciative. Another merc followed him inside but the rest stayed on the street with me. Their focus wasn’t on me, yet I didn’t make the mistake of thinking they weren’t watching. Despite the passage of time, Raina certainly seemed capable of three hundred and sixty degree vision. Just because these mercenaries were only Adapts didn’t mean they wouldn’t catch me if I tried to signal Myd. I could only hope by his silence so far that he had caught on and decided to spare me.

The Cleric kept me waiting for perhaps twenty minutes before he stepped into the open doorway. I’d been clenching my fists since the sounds of a ‘thorough’ search had begun, and was slightly trepidatious about what they could have found.

“Alchemist Vaeronica, do you know where Valetin’s home is?”

“Apologies Cleric Dathu, this is the only location I know of. We only spoke infrequently, and it’s been a while. I don’t recall him ever mentioning his house.” It was a fight to keep myself relaxed through the lie. It helped that I was fairly sure Myd wouldn’t contradict me. While he might pin me with some uncomfortable questions later, for the moment we were united against the Cleric.

The Cleric who was now frowning at me. “Unfortunate. I would ask that you come inside now, and take a look at the office we found.”

I nodded and followed the Cleric back into the room I’d been in. He led me past the door Valetin had entered from, down a thin brick hallway. When the hall hit an exterior wall and turned left, a door to the right opened into a room about half the size of my store. A nietolux lamp had been lit, casting light over a metal table, racks of ingredients and a metal desk. Open and empty now, I could see the bent metal above the desk drawers that indicated their locks had been forced. I’d have paid a lot to know what might have been inside. I looked around and thankfully didn’t have to lie when I said. “I recognize most of what’s in here, but it’s certainly not an alchemist’s lab.”

The Cleric grunted his agreement. “Do you see any thing obviously illegal?” He asked, indicating the supply of ingredients.

I moved to study them, sincerely hoping there wasn’t anything too incriminatory. I spent over an hour, lifting jars and containers, inspecting the contents of each before setting them back. The Cleric had left the room a few minutes in, letting me covertly examine the room as I worked. Valetin had been careful. There were no signs of any tools, information or ingredients that were specific to alchemy. If I hadn’t talked to him and seen his reactions, I would likely now be questioning if he still practiced alchemy at all. Physician was the perfect cover. Many of the apparatuses were the same and didn’t look out of place. A small selection of supplementary supplies would need to be hidden of course. I had a feeling though, that the Gentry had either seen to their removal or Valetin had. Likely not long after I’d spooked him. I reached for a dark black vase when there was a shout from elsewhere in the building. This was followed by a jarring crash and several more cries of alarm. I looked toward the door in time to see a small figure run by it. One that I recognized. Dread descended in a smothering blanket. I scrambled after the fleeing figure. The Cleric shouted behind me, but I ignored him. I slammed the door to the waiting room open and lunged for the outer door that was just about to close again. A tense tableau met me in the street. To the far right an indignant Myd was restrained by one of the Cleric’s mercs. Two more of them stood, swords drawn, at the edge of the street. In the midst of traffic, a merc who hadn’t come down with us, was holding a child aloft by his neck. No. He shook the kid hard enough to shake some of the dirt off. No, no, no. The merc was screaming in his face, the words should have been clear they were so loud, yet the sound of my pounding blood was louder. Scheisse no. This was not the time to play hero, but I don’t think I would have been able to stop myself, even if I hadn’t known the kid. “Joao!” I again ignored the Cleric’s call to stop and launched myself out of the doorway and into the street. I vaulted a cart, blowing the landing and slamming into the muck on my back but I was up again in a heartbeat. I heard more noise behind me, none of it really registered though. I charged toward the merc holding my family. Still clutching the child by the throat, he sneered at me. For a second. Then he looked behind me and paled, setting the child down gently before giving him a small shove toward me. Drawing up hard, I caught the gasping boy.

“Joao, what are you doing here?” I wrapped a firm hand around his back, drawing him into my body defensively. “Where’s Raina?” My voice had a tremble as I tried to regain control of the thrashing emotions inside me. I glanced up angrily at the merc who’d been strangling him, slightly surprised to see him being chewed out by one of the Adepts. Looking back down at my little brother, I brushed his hair out of the way to inspect his throat. “What happened?”

There would be some bruising, but hopefully Raina still had a heeling potion from the last batch I’d given her. The injury could have been much worse if he’d been choked for just a few moments longer. Joao hacked a few times trying to clear his throat. He took a few seconds to catch his breath. When his words rasped out, it took all my training to keep the hatred entombed. “I came with some friends. We was playing in front of the smith down the road. We wasn’t causing too much noise, just playing with Hanson’s new ball.” He moved back a little. “Then Elliot suggested we check out the clinic that just closed. We thought it’d be okay since no one was using it anymore. We didn’t mean any trouble.

I tsked harshly, my hand clenching his spine. “You know better than to break into other people’s places Joao, what were you thinking!”

“Hanson said they might have left some cool stuff behind and since they were all going in I didn’t want to be left out.” He cringed a little at my expression. “Do you hate me too now?”

Taking in his tone and posture, I inwardly sighed. After repeating my mantra, I calmed my voice and went to a knee in front of him. “What’s this nonsense about hate.” I stroked the hair spilling from his cap. “You know I’ll always love you, my little catalyst.” I put a curled finger under his chin and waited until he raised his downcast eyes. “Who else do you think hates you?”

Joao only met my eyes for a moment before glancing away. “Mama does and Mashda and Christy and Hiroki an—”

“Uh, uh-ah, stop right there. Raina and your siblings love you Joao. They might get mad at you sometimes, or seem distant because they’re sad, but they could never hate you. Whatever made you think they didn’t love you?”

“Isobel said Mama was in trouble because of me and that if I didn’t stop causing trouble I’d have to leave, and no one would ever come visit me and no one would ever love me ever again.” The wetness in his eyes made me tuck him close but he kept talking into my chest, his voice catching. “Then today, today I did it again. I caused trouble and Mama was really mad. Now she’ll hate me forever.” He sank to his knees and broke into sobs, clutching at my coat as if to burrow inside with me.

I wrapped my arms around him and let him work the emotion out. When he’d calmed a little, I used one hand to draw him back to his feet. With the other I worked a cloth out of my pocket. As I wiped his face, I felt an odd wave of lament over the fact that he’d grown too big to pick up and rock in my arms. I cleaned his face until he began to bat at my hands. Only then was I able to turn my attention to my surroundings. The Cleric was crouched beside us. Quietly waiting, patiently observing. I wanted to scratch his eyes out. The store. My career. This investigation. Even me. Until now he’d only seen the set pieces and props of a deadly dangerous game I’d decided long ago to play. But Joao wasn’t a part of it. Like Raina and the others, Joao was, real. To me they were the only real people in the city. In existence. Too precious, too sacred to be looked upon by such a monster. I held onto Joao’s hand as I stood up. I stared into the Cleric’s eyes as he mirrored my movement. Taking a moment to order my thoughts, I fixed my love for Joao in my mind and, perhaps for the first time in my life, spoke to a cleric with genuine deference. “Cleric Dathu, I humbly apologize for this trouble. I will of course, see to any reparations that need to be made and will make myself available to you for any further need of me that you have in the future. However, I ask that you allow me to take my leave now so that I may see Joao back to his mother.” His eyes seemed to almost burn into mine. Too late I remembered I wasn’t wearing my merchant’s mask. A sloppy stupid mistake, but it was too late to slap it on now. I got the feeling that in this moment, the Cleric was coming to understand far more about me than I ever wanted him to know.

“You keep surprising me Vaeronica.” He cocked his head. “I must admit I’d thought I’d finally begun to figure you out.” He looked down at Joao, who shifted behind me more at the attention. “And then you display, new depths.” The Cleric looked back into my eyes and smiled widely enough to show teeth. “I must say you are a rare individual to hold my curiosity so enthralled.” I didn’t want to be. He waved a hand at the merc who’d been assaulting Joao. “Do not worry about this, nor the investigation for the moment. I can take my weekly venerations tomorrow so that you may visit with the boy’s mother and not worry about having to traverse back to Comra late at night.”

I gave him a deep half bow. “You have my deepest gratitude for your generosity and understanding Cleric.” Whips, pincers, hot irons, and acid hadn’t pried those words from me in the frozen nightmare. Now the desire, no, the need to see Joao back to the safe arms of Raina, had the words flowing forth freely. To the monster. The adversary. The worst part? It didn’t feel wrong. The grand reservoir of anger and hatred roiled. Yet it remained bound. I remained, in control. At peace. That almost scared me more than anything.

“I’ll send a few mercs with you for protection.”

I was relieved that at least for that issue I had a handy excuse. “Cleric Dathu, thank you, I would readily accept, however,” I looked down at Joao, “I’m afraid that may do more harm than good after…” I drifted off gesturing to the pale faced merc who was now apprehensively watching us.

The Cleric frowned. “I can understand the sentiment Vaeronica, are you sure you’ll be safe though?”

I gave him a sardonic smile. “Its not far to his mother’s and a trip I’ve done many times before. Thank you for your concern though.” And I’d rather not have you find out they lived in the Great Undercity. “Please take care on your return trip, shall I wait for you at my store or would you like me to meet you somewhere the day after tomorrow?”

He crossed his arms, bowing his head in consideration for a moment. “I will come by your store. Please give the boy’s mother my blessing and watch out for your safety.”

I nodded and guided Joao by the shoulders, back into the flow of foot traffic. In the opposite direction of the entrance to the Great Undercity.

Chapter 20

When I judged it safe, I looped us back around. A few streets over we descended to walk along one of the sunken tributaries that fed into the Gutter. Spoking out from the core they were as deep as they were wide. This one had a convenient road, or rather path, along the top edge on either side. Bridges sporadically crossed the sewage canal forcing us to slow, as Joao and I crossed through traffic. We continued upstream toward the core until we hit a set of stairs and took them down to the canal edge. The rancid stench seemed thicker, not just stronger, but heavier, denser. Slipping out a vial I applied some peppermint oil under my nose and Joao’s. We didn’t have to bear it long though. Under the next bridge crossing, a dull mold and moss covered door was set into the canal wall. There are many theories on how the Great Undercity came to exist. Some people theorise that it was one of the fortresses the founding citizens lived in as they constructed the city walls. I set my merchant’s mask in place before pushing the door open, having to set my shoulder into it. I grimaced at the muck that rubbed off on my coat. Others think the original tunnels were another mining operation that was started before Those Above restricted all mining to the Etratsa sector, following the Maw incident. Inside the door, steps led down to a small landing room and the four Gentry stationed there. There presence was what had given birth to the street rumor that the whole thing was built by the Ash Family and was the original source of the family’s wealth. Without proper records I didn’t think there would be any definitive conclusion to the debate of why the Great Undercity was built. However it came to be, its current incarnation was firmly under the Ash Family’s rule. I led Joao down to the Gentry, stopping on the last step.

“Gentry,” I nodded to them politely, “I’m heading down to visit Raina’s Bakery.”

“You’re Vaeronica aren’t you.” One of them asked, her voice low. “Been hearing a thing or two about you.” I wonder why, with all the trouble circling me I wasn’t surprised. She hit the Gentry next to the door handle with a light back hand to the chest. He grunted and hauled open the inner door. The woman flashed us a smile nodding to the opening. “Go on in.” I moved Joao in front of me and propelled him into the nietolux lit tunnel on the other side. When I went to pass the woman though, she stopped me, grabbing my shoulder in a strong grip. “Word of advice before you go. Ash Family would like a word. Best stop by the mansion, before you head back up.”

I grimaced behind my mask. I had feared this would happen when I agreed to lead the Cleric to Valetin’s clinic. “Will do. Thanks.” I quickly moved on when her hand dropped.

When the door shut behind us, Joao craned his head back to me. “Are you in trouble Auntie Vae?”

I leaned forward a bit and smiled down at him. “Not really, Joao. There are just some curious people who want to talk to me.”

“Hanson said the Ash Family eats people they don’t like. He said that’s why everyone does what they say.”

I chuckled. “I don’t think they eat people, but even if they did, I probably wouldn’t taste very good, would I?”

He giggled. “No, you wouldn’t. Specially cause you’re all dirty.”

The flick I gave his ear only made him giggle more. I rapped the top of his head lightly with my knuckles. “Now, that we have some time, perhaps you can explain to Auntie how you wound up in that fix?”

As we traversed down the gently sloping tunnel, Joao explained how a game of kick had evolved into a little breaking and entering, that he of course had not wanted or, really, been a part of. I grinned at parts of the story and shook my head at others. Despite his embellishments, I got the feeling it really had been mostly this Hanson kid’s brilliant idea. Once this was all over, I just might track the little Gutter fish down and have a word. The tunnel ended, opening into the main trunk tunnel of the Great Undercity. Roughly shaped like a halfpipe, we descended stairs from the tunnels mouth near the ceiling, to the rough stone road that ran the length of the trunk’s lowest point. In five stepped levels, houses, shops, and public service buildings filled the area. Stone was the primary structural material, but metal and clay brick walls dotted the buildings. Gigantic glass basins, hanging in nets of steel chains, were filled with niteolux to keep the area brightly lit. Dodging some men carrying laundry, we turned off onto one of the branch tunnels that led off perpendicular to the trunk. Here the ceiling was much lower. If I put Joao on my shoulders, he could stretch his arm up and touch the roof. A five minute walk brought us to our destination. Raina’s Bakery. The smell of baked goods hung in the air despite the late hour. I pounded on the worn doors, then took a few steps back and waited. There was a loud rattling sound from inside and I heard a child’s voice shouting.

“It’s Auntie Vae!” There was a ‘thunk’ followed by an aggravated, “I know how to do it!” The doors swung inwards revealing the small girl on the other side. Her dusky skin and clothes were coated liberally with mud. She pursed her lips and folded her arms. Fighting my smile, I copied her, raising my chin. We held the poses for a few seconds before she broke into a wide grin. Dropping the pretense, I let the smile break onto my face and held my arms open wide. Giggling she ran into the hug.

I had just wrapped my arms around her when she started squirming to escape. “Auntie Vae! Did you jump in the gutter! Eww, lem’me go!” She made fake retching noises and I held her a moment longer chuckling before I let her escape.

“I certainly did not jump in the gutter!” I said with a false air of indignity. “I was just walking too close to this one.” I said grinning at Joao, who stuck his tongue out at me.

She gave him a serious look. “You’re in a lot of trouble. Mama’s been looking for you.” Mashda, scrunched up her face in thought. “Did you make her mad again?”

“Perhaps.” I said truthfully fixing him with a look. “But even if they are mad with him, it doesn’t mean they hate him. Anger passes, love persists. Right Joao?”

He was silent for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Yes, Auntie Vae.” He ran a few steps inside the storefront before turning back to me. “Thank you for being there, Auntie Vae.”

“Any time my little Catalyst, now go find Raina.”

He ran past the empty racks and the counter and through the doorway on the other side. I turned a critical eye to Mashda. “I’m pretty mucky, but you seem to be wearing half the muck in Indus. Just getting in from your latest adventure?” I walked inside helping her close the large iron double doors.

I was reaching for the upper latch when Mashda cried out. “No! I’ve got this.”

Bemused I stepped back as she shoved a stool into place and stretched up to close the bolt. She grinned proudly at me and I gave her an impressed thumbs up.

Visibly pleased with herself, Mashda jumped off the stool and without further ado, headed after Joao. “Yup! Me and Dellyst were playing with the Javier’s dog. Your new friend showed up too.”

I moved the stool to one side then jogged to catch up with her. Hearing that Atabey had made it, felt like a weight had been lifted from my back. “I’m glad to hear it. Did you have fun with the dog?” It was the only one I knew of in Indus.

“Yup! Mama said if I work really hard, I will be able to have one someday!”

Dropping my merchant’s mask in place, I told another fib. “Well, if you do as Raina says I’m sure you’ll have one in no time!” Her joy was more important than pointing out the impracticality of such a creature. I knew the Javier’s could only afford one because of their close ties to the Ash Family. Through the doorway, we went down a stone block hallway into the large interior of the kitchen. I nearly drooled as the air became permeated with the aroma of Raina’s trade.

Mashda yelled, “Mama! Auntie Vae is here!” as she led me through the labyrinth of tables, counters, and ovens. All throughout the kitchen, members of my adopted family shouted greetings as they flowed around one another cleaning the kitchen from the day’s labours and starting supper for the horde. A rare tender smile snuck onto my face at the sight of them. With the grimness of my outside life, it was nice to return home. Mashda ran up to the stocky brunette wrapped around Joao, tugging on her apron, and pointed to me. She raised her gaze and upon seeing me, a radiant smile bloomed on Raina’s face. She put one of the older girls in charge of Joao and jogged over to me. As she got close, I held up both palms toward her.

“A proper hello is going to have to wait I’m afraid. I need to be decontaminated first.” I said with a wry grin.

She sniffed and matched my grin. “I can smell that. Thank you for wrangling Joao, I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble?”

I shrugged. “I’ll tell you all about it when we can sit down for a minute.” I pursed my lips. “There’s a lot to tell. Mashda told me that Atabey made it here okay?”

She straightened slightly. “Yes. She’s in the back. One more thing we need to talk about I guess.” She gave me a slightly worried look but only said. “She filled me in on some of it. I’m just glad you’re okay.” She wrinkled her nose. “Now go bathe. Did you go trash diving for mold again?”

I laughed. “No, this time it was swimming in mud.”

Her eyes widened. “What! Why were you—” she trailed off, shaking her head, her long braided hair swinging back and forth. “Never mind, I’ll get the full story later. For now, go clean up, I’ll get some clean clothes for you and set them beside the shower.

“You’re amazing Raina.” I said to her back as she headed for her room.

“So I keep hearing!” She shot back over her shoulder.

A silly smile plastered on my face, I headed to the rear of the kitchen, then through to the living space on the other side. A large warehouse like area, the inside was much warmer, in both temperature and atmosphere. A symphony of voices chatted, yelled orders, laughed, and giggled. To my left the brightly dyed bits of cloth and gaily painted mishmash of debris acted as rooms. On the right were barrels and crates of baking ingredients. I moved toward the cheerful sounds. I found Atabey entertaining several of the younger kids. She’d made several crude figures out of stick and string, acting out a story with them. She glanced up and smiled at me but kept on with the story. I moved on after giving her a nod. Against the back wall of the large room, was in my opinion the masterpiece feature. The shower! The large, repurposed boiler was magnitude’s better than mine. That is if you could call my water spigot a shower. A line of copper piping looped around the ovens before coming back to the shower area, so the water was always warm. The shower had four large heads attached to a cast iron rod that in turn, was pinned to the boiler roof. I hauled open the large sliding door and walked in still fully clothed. Turning the valve handle, I held my arms out slightly and relaxed under the heavy spray of water. Piece by piece, I removed my mud soaked wardrobe. I was undoing the ties on my boots when Mashda tromped into the shower area.

“Mama says I have to get clean before I get supper. She told me to ask you to help so it gets done proper.” She pouted to me. “But I’m not a baby anymore Auntie Vae, so I don’t need your help!”

Hiding my amusement, I crouched down, so we were about eye level. “All right I won’t help, but can we make a trade?”

“What kind of trade?” She asked suspiciously.

“Well, if you wash the mud out of my hair, I’ll wash the mud from yours.”

She giggled. “How’d you get mud in your hair?”

I raised an eyebrow. “How did you get mud in yours?”

She looked away guiltily, muttering, “Bad luck.”

I giggled. “Me too.” Together we got ourselves clean and then I did the best I could to get the filth off her clothes. Eventually I gave up and set them in a pile with mine. The rest could come out in the wash. On the low bench just outside the shower area I found two sets of clean clothes left for us. I carried our prewashed clothes to the laundry bin nearby. Mashda ran over to where some of the other kids were trying to stack old bolts on end. I returned to the kitchen where I was quickly put to work peeling potatoes. An hour later we gathered at the makeshift table of boxes for the feast. Dinner at Raina’s was spectacular. Not in presentation or selection, but in volume and the very fact that Raina managed to make it happen every night. The people of this city, or at least everyone living below Noblesse, had known hunger at some point in their lives. Even with the massive vertical farms and the fishing hauls, food remained a commodity that walked the edge of scarcity. Yet here, in the bowels of the city, Raina managed to feed her chosen family every night without fail. Bellies full, everyone lent a hand and participated in the clean up. While others were tending to the in-house chores, I tagged along when Isobel and Christina, two of the older girls, left on their nightly rounds. They took a cart and went door to door giving away the baked goods that would soon go bad. Isobel knew each of them, making small talk with a few. There was a time when I had made these rounds. A time when I knew all their names too. Some of the recipients gave small tokens of their appreciation for the baked goods but most just paid with their gratitude. While ‘help if you can, who you can, when you can’ was part of the culture down here, Raina had an additional motive in orchestrating this charity. Her hope was that the young women might get a healthy boost of gratitude from the people they delivered to. This positive reaffirmation of their self worth was a potent part of Raina’s treatment plan for those who’d suffered repetitive trauma in their lives. Both Isobel and Christina, like myself, had suffered from mistreatment as children. The injuries from that kind of abuse, were one of the few things no potion or magic could heal. It took constant love, care and sometimes an infusion of purpose to mend those wounds. It was Raina’s hope that those she assigned to these rounds would feel needed. Like their presence in this world mattered. I could attest that it was, at least temporarily, effective. My sisters would eventually need to discover a purpose of their own devising, but until then this would serve as a crutch. It seemed to be working for Isobel at least, who beamed a radiant smile at every person she talked to. Christina on the other scale, was a mute assistant. She actually reminded me of how Isobel used to be a few years ago. Merely nodding in reply to people’s thanks and that only when people directly addressed her. Unwilling to lower the wall between her and the world. It was to be expected. She’d only been with Raina a few months and I could see in her eyes that she still didn’t trust these times would last. It was a weird mix of hope and despair. It was familiar as many of my chosen family wore it when they first joined us. Our experiences had taught us to be wary of things that seem too good to be true. And Raina was undoubtedly that. In time it would fade. Or mutate, as my own fears had done. Mine had become a twisted certainty that there were no lines too taboo to cross in the name of protecting this family. I watched Christina’s jerk her hands back after accidently touching one of the recipients as she handed them a loaf of bread. Or she might just break and run. Or die. My Lady Luck could really be a bitch sometimes. Wrapped in my grim thoughts and the shadows between lanterns, I lurked nearby while the young women worked. Patiently waiting. My merchant’s mask on my face and a dagger in my hand.

Chapter 21

I was on my way back to the kitchen area when strong rough hands wrapped around me from behind. As soon as Raina released me, I spun around and returned the hug.

She spoke softly. “Welcome home Vaeronica.”

“Raina.” I whispered, relaxing into the hug. “Its good to be back.”

We broke apart and she regarded me critically. “You look good, but how are you really? With you, physical health was never the real issue.” The training she’d received at the Guild meant that not much slipped her notice.

I gave her a tired smile. “Life doesn’t seem to be getting any less complicated. Every time I turn around something falls apart.”

“Come sit down then and tell big sis all about it.” She led me into the Kitchen and seated me at a table. She was coming back with a bottle and glasses when Atabey joined us. Wordlessly I pulled out another stool and Raina grabbed an extra glass. Atabey choked a little with what I assumed was her first experience drinking distilled spirits. With quiet words I laid out the events of the past couple days. I left out some details that Atabey didn’t really need to know. Knowing me as well as she did, I was sure Raina could read between the lines and understand that I’d tell her the rest later. She listened intently to my tale, only interrupting occasionally with a clarifying question. It was, relaxing for me. Talking through the events put them into a clearer perspective and made them seem more manageable. More importantly, it helped me gain a better understanding of the choices I’d made. Raina frowned at some parts but never verbally condemned any of my decisions. We sat in silence for a while after I finished.

Raina was the one to break it. “You’ve really been put through the wringer Atabey. Now that I’ve heard a bit more about the situation, I want to urge you to stay here for a few days. As Vaeronica said, there’s someone with a lot of money, and influence, after you.” She rolled the base of her glass on the table. “I’d like to say, that without a doubt the Ash Family and their Gentry have nothing to do with this. However,” she frowned pursing her lips, “they aren’t paragons. They usually stay out of anything even slightly connected to slavery, but I’d like you to give me a few days to confirm it.”

Atabey nodded. “That sounds wise, and thank you. Both of you.” She shot me a smile before looking back to Raina. “I never would have expected to find such kindness here.” Her shoulders fell slightly. “Or anywhere, for that matter.”

I looked over to see Raina studying Atabey consideringly. She reached across and laid a hand on Atabey’s arm. “Don’t worry about anything for now. Just rest up and we’ll take things day by day. You’re safe here.” Raina gave her a slight squeeze before withdrawing and standing up. “Come on, lets get you a place to sleep.”

I stayed in the kitchen sipping my drink until Raina returned. She sat down beside me, took my glass from my hand, and drew me into her arms. I was surprised when tears began to leak from my eyes. I wasn’t normally one for tears. Events had been particularly stressful though. Out of everything that had happened I think it was the gratitude I’d been forced to show the Cleric that did it. She stayed quiet as I softly cried against her chest. She was gently stroking my hair when my tears finally subsided. I broke the silence first.

“Sorry for bringing her here without talking to you first.” I mumbled into her shoulder.

She scoffed into my hair. “And where else could you have taken her? Never apologize for bringing someone in need to me Vaeronica. You’re a good judge of character and I trust you.”

I reluctantly straightened and pulled out of her arms. “How serious are your suspicions of the Ash Family?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Not very. An Ash and some Gentry stopped by asking about you yesterday. With the timing, it’s more likely their interest came from your visit with Valetin than yesterday’s events at the market.” She gave me an intent look. “I don’t know if it was a good move going to Valetin in the first place, but you had to know the Ash Family wouldn’t look kindly on you leading a Cleric to him.”

I dropped my head down and raised a hand helplessly. “I would have much rather led the Cleric into a dire beast den. Unfortunately, that wasn’t one of the options I had to choose from.” I looked at her imploringly. “You and I both know the Alchemist Guild want this to fall on me and I don’t know enough about what the Cleric found in that lab to say with certainty that the Guild’s lying. If it’s my Alcgel that’s got the Cleric’s intention, all it would take is for the Cleric to find one small notation that Krutov made, and I’ll be headed for the Cog.” I stopped for a breath. “When the Cleric asked for my help, I thought that if I was close to his investigation, he might let something slip.” Sighing loudly, I admitted, “But I guess I’d be lying if I said I didn’t edge the Cleric in Valetin’s direction at least partially out of spite.” At Raina’s stern look I hastily added, “Only nudged! The Cleric was already considering other apprentices. In my defense, Valetin could have been a little more understanding.”

“Vaeronica!” Raina tersely rasped. “You knew he was in with the Ash Family!” She flashed a look at the doorway, lowering her voice even more. “It’s one thing if the Cleric forced you to help. If Gentleman Jack catches even a whisper that you did this on purpose, you won’t have to worry about the Cog or what the Cleric might do to you.”

“I’m on the heel of my backfoot here Raina! I didn’t plan to be seen with the Cleric when I agreed to help him. I thought I’d just be answering questions. Not giving him a guided tour of Indus!” She put a finger to her lips, and I dropped my voice back down. “And I never really thought I was putting Valetin in any real danger. With the Gentry at his door, he’d know the Cleric was coming the moment we set foot in Indus. I knew, or at least I suspected, he was smart enough not to keep anything illegal at the Clinic where anyone could stumble on it.”

She shook her head at me with an exasperated look. “Those excuses won’t hold water with Gentleman Jack. If, Those Above forbid you are ever talking to an Ash, just stick to the story that the Cleric knew all about Valetin and only brought you for your knowledge of Alchemy.” She sighed and a veil of sadness drifted over her for a moment, before she shook it off. “Could Valetin have found out about your deal with Krutov?”

I made a wobbling motion with my free hand. “Nothings certain, but I don’t think so.” I frowned down at the table. “While there’s almost no chance Alchemist Krutov and Valetin were working together on something, I’ve begun to wonder if perhaps they worked on the same project, only at different times.”

Raina hummed, noncommittedly. Then her face turned more serious, her fingers idly rubbed the table. “What about Erheer? have you given any thought about why he would be involved?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve been coming up blank.” I let out a heavy sigh. “Whatever it is, I get the feeling that he’s not the boss. Killing me would have been more his usual style, I think. That he came with a job offer?” I took and sip of the sharp spirits. “I don’t think his gang is doing well enough to waste money on a ploy like that. Of course, the offer itself could have been a lie. Tempt with a golden ticket and slit my throat in an alley.

Raina nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking too.” She frowned and spat a soft curse. “The man’s a consummate cheat and liar. I’m afraid for those friends of Atabey’s.” I whole heartedly agreed with Raina. I was about to say so, but she continued. “It’s one more reason you shouldn’t be going against the Ash Family’s interests. If Erheer gets serious about getting rid of you, you’re going to have to move back here. Maybe you should consider doing it anyway.”

I studied her. Her normally radiant face was grim, and I saw a bit of the merc she used to be peeking through. I gathered her hands in mine. “I don’t think things are that bad yet. I’ve got a way that should let me know for sure what the Cleric’s so focused on. I just need a few more days to get things ready for it. I’ll keep a low profile and stay out of Indus. Neither the Gentleman nor Erheer have much influence up in Comra.”

“What about whoever you vexed by helping those women?”

“Uh. Yeah. I’m hoping that just goes away.” At Raina’s incredulous look I held up my hands. “I did a stupid thing! The situation is so far above my level, my prime strategy going forward is to keep my head low and bank on being too insignificant for them to bother with.”

“Vaeronica.” Raina sighed. Her shoulders drooped.

“I know, I should have just stayed out of it.” I threw up my hands, almost knocking over my glass. At the last second, I caught and steadied it with both hands. “I should have just left it well enough alone. I just.” I shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t. I had to, had to do something.”

Raina smiled sadly. “Although I wish you hadn’t responded so rashly,” she patted my back, “I am proud that you followed what you felt was right.”

“It’s because of you.” Those rich eyes flicked up to mine and I let my admiration shine through my words. “Its because you made such a sacrifice for me, that I knew I had to help those women. You’re the one that gave me,” I gestured to the back room, “all of us, the strength to face life with some measure of courage and optimism.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “You gave and give me hope Raina.” I gestured around us. “Just look at what you’ve done here. The kids have been given the opportunity to know what it’s like to be loved. To be safe and what it’s like to have a family. Because of you.”

She hugged me tight to her again. Softly, into my hair, she whispered. “I love you. You’re the little sister I always needed in my life Vaeronica. Please keep yourself safe.”

An old shallow delusion twinged at the words, but I smiled and said, “Love you too Sis.”

The next morning, I woke up to the distinct smell of fresh baked bread, mixed with herbs and an eclectic selection of other baked goods. I yawned, stretching, as I listened to the sounds of Indus around me. The distant beat of the street outside, the cries and calls of the people and the immediate sounds of our family waking up. Last night Raina had hung an extra bed for me in her space. It had been nostalgic, sharing a room with her again like we used to. I grinned ruefully to myself, at least I didn’t wake her with my screaming anymore. Outside the partitioned rooms, I walked into the pandemonium that was breakfast with children. Raina was shepherding the busy kitchen, providing the only sense of order in the whirl of people. She deftly managed measuring out ingredients in front of her while passing the occasional order to her stoic soldiers. I took a moment to fix the memory in my mind. Moments like this. This made life worth while. Like I’d told her the previous night, Raina emanated hope. Winding my way toward her, I smiled, returning good mornings and hellos with the other members of my family.

“Well good morning sleepyhead!” Raina cheerfully said as I leaned on the table behind her.

“I think this still counts as night.” I grumped good naturedly.

“You’ve just gotten used to your lazy merchant hours.” You should spend a few more days with us! We will get you tuned up in no time.” Flipping some of the dough in front of her, she shot me a grin over her shoulder.

“Ugh, no thanks, I’d rather go back to deluding myself into thinking that this hour doesn’t exist.”

Raina laughed and a few of the nearby girls joined her. A few good natured taunts were thrown my way, I just rolled my eyes and waved them off. “I don’t have to rush off right away, what chores can I help with?”

Raina tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully before answering. “Why not give Mashda a hand with the wash? There’s a large load today so she will be thrilled for the help.”

I nodded and set off to wrangle my young wash partner. She was ecstatic to find out she didn’t have to do it alone. By the time we’d cleaned and hung the clothes by the old forge to dry, Isobel was calling out that breakfast was ready. Like a flight of birds, the family gathered, alighting along the long table. Together we ravenously devoured towering stacks of griddle cakes and piles of hash browns. The food filled my stomach, and the company filled my heart. The only taint came from knowing that I’d have to leave soon. I helped with the clean up, then when the older went back to their work, I spent a while teaching letters to the younger kids. Those that I could convince to do so. It was close to midday when I changed into my recently cleaned clothes and strapped on my dagger. A small hurricane of hugs later, Raina and I stood alone by the doors.

Eyes glistening, we embraced. I whispered in her ear, “Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”

She tightened her hug briefly before stepping back and saying, “Together.”

Chapter 22

With that, I strode out the door. From Raina’s I made straight for the Undercity exit. I knew of three and chose one that surfaced a few blocks east from where me and Joao had entered. Besides throwing off any unknown pursuers, I also didn’t want to coincidently run into the Gentry who’d let me in yesterday. Luck was with me and I joined a group of people as they trooped through the Gentry stationed at the exit. Keeping my head down, I flipped my hair, so it hung over my face in a veil. I knew I’d have to pay a visit to the Ash Family eventually, but I had more pressing priorities in my life for the moment. The Alcgel should have fully matured by now and I wanted to get it ready for use as soon as possible. It wouldn’t hurt to get the Hālitūs de Vesuvius mixed up either now that I had the ingredients. With them more focused on the people coming into the Undercity than those leaving, I was able to slip past the four Gentry. I breathed a slight sigh of relief when I exited onto the streets. A different entry point than the one me and Joao had used, this one let out into a tight back alley. My long coat swished as I stalked through the Aiera sector, taking pains to give any Gentry a wide berth. Avoiding them made it take twice as long, but before the end of the second hour, I was striding past the outer ring of warehouses that encircled the landing. As much as I loved this place for being the home of my heart, I’d feel more at ease once I was back in Comra. I certainly couldn’t wait to wash the textured taste of smog from my mouth. Seeing another knot of Gentry coming up, I darted into the mouth of a side alley between two warehouses. Nodding politely at one of the alley’s more permanent residents, I hurried my steps. There were no lanterns to grant light here and, in the darkness, an uncomfortably familiar itch began to grow between my shoulder blades. I was by no means scared of the dark, but that didn’t stop me from hurrying toward the faint light emanating from the next street over. It wasn’t anything tangible that made me look back. I’d like to call it finely tune instincts, but perhaps paranoia would be closer to the truth. For a heartbeat I hoped my eyes were playing tricks on me. They were little more than silhouettes, three dark shades blocking the light. Shadows that burst into motion as my gaze landed on them. My right foot slid out a little as I tried to launch off it. I stumbled into a run. Pounding down the alley, I was chased by the frightening sound of my pursuer’s footsteps. Gentry or other I didn’t really care. I wasn’t in the mood to entertain. I dashed flat out for the street. I’d be safe in a moment. If I could only break out onto the street, dash up the side of the last warehouse and cross the landing to where the mercs were stationed, I’d be untouchable. Just had to reach the light of the next street. I broke into the nietolux glow with a cry of joy. Pedestrians regarded me with shock and curiosity as I rushed by, feeling safer the deeper into them I slipped. I checked back a few times as I hurried past the corner of the last warehouse but if I was still being followed, I didn’t see them. I’d have to remember to take the long way back to my store once I reached Comra. It wasn’t hard to follow someone up the stairs. I joined the line of people queued with a triumphant smile. Safe. As the line slowly advanced, I started prepping my to do list. I’d need to fashion containers for the Alcgel. Something I could wear next to my skin as I primed them. Once I got that going, I could mix up the Hālitūs de Vesuvius. Then I should really finish the hospitals order and get that delivered. The Flerae woman in front of me moved past the merc and I moved forward holding up my merchant’s pass. The pass made me think of William. I didn’t really owe him it but perhaps I should check in on him anyway. Make sure he wasn’t going to try and do something stupid with that artifact. I went to walk past the merc, when they grabbed the back of my neck.

“What are you—” I started indignantly.

The mercs curt words cut me off and froze my tongue. “You are under arrest Alchemist Vaeronica.” He knew my name? Latching his other hand onto my arm, he steered me out of the line.

Had the Cleric ordered this? My protest carried my panic. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake, I hav—"

“Quiet!” He clamped down hard on my throat for emphasis. His gauntleted fingers dug into the sides of my neck harshly causing me to strangle. I stopped walking and dug my heels in. Something didn’t feel right. Had the Ash Family bribed the mercs? With my free hand I scrabbled, trying to ease the fingers off my neck. He cursed, but just dragged me forward with brute strength. As we neared the edge of the landing platform, two figures detached themselves from an open warehouse doorway. Nondescript brown cloaks, the same as the slavers had worn. Scheisse, how had they found me! I tried to shout but the best I could get out was a weak croak. One of the brown cloaks came up on the side and I barely saw the sap come up. A blow to the head made me loose track of things for a moment. By the time I came back they were pulling me into the warehouse. In desperation, I freed the sea of fury in my mind. Going a little mad was better than anything they had planned for me in there. I’d hoped to at least draw some attention to my plight. It was ineffective at best. While some people likely had stopped to stare at the crazy lady, thrashing and screaming in the arms of a merc, in hindsight it may have only made onlookers more thankful for my removal. I was dimply aware of whipping about like an eel, but my physical body just wasn’t strong enough to break free. Fragmented memories slid across my vision. Brown cloaks turned to white coats and back again. At some point I managed to latch a hand on a door post. That only delayed them for a second. One of them powered a knee into my stomach and I distantly felt something give in my side. We scrabbled for a moment more, but their brute strength won out and the doors closed behind us. I’d begun keening incoherently at some point, all the impotent hate and rage coursing through me like acid. In the chaos I got a lucky push off the floor that sent me, the merc and one of the brown cloaks down into a pile. I guess that annoyed them, as they started slamming my head repeatedly against the stone. I would have been better off keeping the lid on my darkness as its release only served to prolong my futile struggles a few moments longer. Experience a little more pain. My hands weakly intercepted some of the blows, but I knew it was a lost battle. I still fought. Flailed. Twisted and thrashed. The rage in my veins wouldn’t let me stop. Neither did it save me. A final loud crack brought blinding pain that flashed in my head and I stilled before vomiting violently.

“Ahurgh” The disgust in my current assailant’s voice struck me as funny for some insane reason.

Gee, sorry mister, I thought, didn’t mean to ruin your moment. My face slamming into the floor was followed by a steel clad kick to my stomach. My half whimper was choked off as I vomited again. I was confused for a moment that the smell of vomit didn’t immediately assault my nose. Then I realized, from the copper in the air and on my tongue, that’s because the puddle next to my mouth was blood. Oh, that’s not good, was my last thought before the abyss claimed me once again.

***

I was flying. One arm stretched in front of me, the air catching my hair, playing with it, as it streamed out behind me. I could see the city far below. Surrounding it, snapping jaws sprouted from the land, like heads of lettuce. Impossibly long tongues tipped with glowing green eyeballs whipped into the air. That’s fine, I thought, I was far above them. They couldn’t get me. Then the warm wind shifted and suddenly the ability to fly was torn from me. Cold air buffeted my body as I began to fall. The jaws erupted in a chorus of mocking laughter. I thrashed and flailed, my arms flapping in an absurd attempt to stop my descent. “No!” the scream of protest tore from me but entered the air as silent as the grave. I fell.

Chapter 23

I was cold. No longer flying, my body bounced against something hard. I groaned, shifting painfully. Fragmented thoughts fought to push into my mind. I hurt everywhere. I wasn’t in my bed or at my desk in my sanctuary. I pried my eyes open, only to quickly shut them as vertigo swept me. Something warm rose in me and, before I could stop it, splashed warmly against my arm as I coughed. I forced my eyelids up and got an impression of red before they snapped shut again. Whatever I was laying on, bounced again. Metal. Was I laying on a metal bed? No. From the bouncing I guessed I was in a cart of some kind. Decay and rot filtered into my nose. Was I dead, was this the afterlife? Did the newly dead arrive in a cart? Laughter bubbled in my mind, dying before it could be born. No, the flicker of truth finally came to me, the merc, brown cloaks. Something stopped, and it took a minute for me to realize it was the sense of motion. End of the line. Whatever that meant. There was a slightly wet scraping sound and the smell of rot lessened. Then hands grabbed my ankle and I moaned as I was dragged roughly from the cart, impacting the ground with a loud thump.

“See. Told you she’d make it.” A bodiless voice commented. They could have been commenting on the weather from the lack of emotion in their voice. “Come on. The boss wants some answers before we finish her.” A dull pain snapped over my scalp as my head was jerked up.

A brown cloaked man crouched in front of me. His face was pockmarked, and a large scar ran from the right side of his forehead to the opposite side of his jaw. He smiled, a sight that might have been scarier if he hadn’t been missing most of his teeth. “Boss wants to know where the last girl is.”

I coughed and felt something thick spill out the corner of my mouth. I had to fight to get words out. “Girl. You want. Slave girl?”

He nodded vigorously. “That’s right, the one you had at your store with the others. Where is she?”

It was telling that he was only asking after Atabey. Despite my current situation, I felt a small jab of pity for Sedna. Her drive to get home had led her straight into the jaws of her captors. At least Atabey still had a chance. The thought buoyed me. If my actions at the market had been all for naught, I’d die here feeling spectacularly stupid. I tried to shrug both shoulders but only managed my left. “Girl at store.”

The man shook his head, but he didn’t stop smiling. He pulled a knife from under the cloak. “See, now I know that’s a lie because we saw you get on the lift with her.” He jabbed the blade into my leg and pulled.

It hurt. Yet with half my body already lit up with pain, the knife was a relatively minor addition. I winced and spat more blood. Unfortunately, none of it landed on the guy. I had a thought that made me pull a smile onto my face. “Girl. Girl with Gentry. Good. Luck. Getting her.” Maybe they would be dumb enough to try. The Ash Family would chew these gutter filths up and spit them in the Maw.

That made him frown. He twisted the knife, pulled it out and plunged it in my other thigh. “She’s with the Gentry?” He wiggled the hilt sending shocks of fresh agony through me. “You’re not fibbing, again are you?”

Wow. Where had Erheer found these morons? You can only cause a person so much physical pain. On top of that and more to the point, I knew they planned to kill me. Why in the bloody Maw would I tell the truth now? “Ash Mansion. With Jack.”

“You better be telling the truth, Flerae blood mutt.” He yanked the knife out and the tip flashed to a stop right in front of my eye.

For how lacking their understanding was of the fundamentals of torture, they had a lot of misplaced faith in it. “Yes. No lie. Ash.” Please. Please if fate had any sense of humor, let Erheer think he can break into the Ash Mansion. I might be dead in a moment, but it would almost be worth it if Erheer went looking for Atabey there.

“What do you think?” For a moment I was confused but the man was looking up at another person. The Gutter float holding my hair I assumed.

“Not much point for her to lie now.” Was the reply.

If I could of, I would have palmed my face. Really? I don’t know what was worse. That I was going to die? Or that it would be these morons killing me.

The guy in front of me grabbed my jaw. “You know she’s actually not that bad looking even as roughed up as she is. Shame to just let it go to waste without having a taste.”

Oh, fuck off and jump in the Maw. They wouldn’t!

“I’m not into that, but whatever floats your boat Dent.” The hand let go of my hair and with out the support I slumped backward. My back hit something hard behind me and I groaned weakly. I could hear the one that’d been holding me up start walking away before calling back. “Just make sure she’s dead when you’re done.”

More blood spilled from my mouth and fresh fear screwed inside me. Couldn’t I even get a quick end?

“How about the rest of you?”

“Nah, she looks nasty.”

“I could go for a ride.”

I tried vainly to move. Not to get away. Just to speed the blood loss. I’d use all the luck I had left to die before they started.

“How about me? Can I join?” Called out a vaguely familiar voice that resonated with chilling malice. I could only see a hazy outline of someone coming toward us.

“Who in the bloody Maw are you?”

“Don’t matter who she is.” Another brown cloak wandered into my field of vision, pushing past his friend with a shove. He jerked his chin at the figure. “Get lost before you get cut.”

I didn’t know which of the brown cloaks was speaking but I could hear them hock a wad of spit at her feet. “S’right, theses ain’t your streets rail polisher.”

The figure moved close enough that I could see her vibrant blue eyes. Oddly, it was the clearest thing about her. The woman’s hand dipped into her long black coat causing it to flare, the edge swirling and blurring to my impaired vision. The trailing afterimages created the illusion of black and purple smoke rising off her. She drew out a long, elegant blade as she strode closer.

The woman’s voice slinked out, low and ripe with false cheer. “Is that so?” She flourished her hands and in the rays of light slanting onto the street, the sword became a glittering streak of silver. Blue Eyes continued to saunter forward, leisurely. “I hold a different opinion. I say any street I’m on, is my street.” With a burst of speed, she charged at the swarthy bruiser. The filth covered tough bellowed and swung the rusty sword in a quick slash across his body. A small cry escaped me. For some reason, the thought of her being hurt on my behalf bothered me. I mean, I was dead, and she had already helped saved me once. The warrior woman, however, didn’t back down. Slipping out of the way of the clumsy slash, her arm blurred as she flicked the tip of her blade across the bruiser’s throat. The bruiser clamped a hand to his neck, choosing to fight on with only one hand. Streams of crimson bubbled through his fingers. Two more brown cloaks rushed in. One to either side of their gurgling comrade. They swung their weapons in a roughly coordinated assault. Blue Eyes burst into motion. Water splashed up from the ground as her boots pounded in a complicated pattern of footwork. She became a beautiful whirl of black and purple. Metal rang on metal in a staccato beat. She pivoted, ducked, and danced as if she was in a Noblesse ballroom. Falling back from one of her slashes, the thug in the center finally collapsed from blood loss. A well timed stomping pirouette halted blue eye’s body, a finger width from a sweeping hammer. Snapping her body, she lashed forward. Her arm seemed to slow for a moment before it powered up into the hammer wielder’s exposed underarm. The hammer dropped at their side. Its thud contrasted by the wielder’s cry of pain. Blue Eyes elbowed her face before skipping backward to engage the third. With a sliding movement she swept the tip of her blade up his front. A flex of her arm abruptly changed the swords path as she thrust it forward. The blade sank deep into his chest. The third brown cloak’s weapon dropped from his hand. The fight paused. The only sound was the moans of the injured hammer wielder, who staggered back clutching her arm. The man impaled on Blue Eyes’ blade toppled backward, audibly sliding off the sword.

Noting their failing courage, the blue eyed woman flashed a brief smile my way before she addressed those who remained. “Since I’m in a bit of a hurry, anyone who leaves now, lives to die another day.” The hammer wielder took that as her cue and turned to run. She had taken two steps when her brown cloaked companion stabbed her.

He thrust his pitted short sword into her gut, then shoved her off with a kick. “Bloody coward!” He screamed. He thrust a finger at the other pale faced cutthroat. “Kill the broken bird then we—” Everyone went into motion at once. The cocky brown cloak was cut off as Blue Eyes appeared in front of him. Her sword skewered through his mouth. I hadn’t even seen her move. The last brown cloak must have missed it as well. He turned his back to them, crossing the short distance to me. Scheisse. A boot descended into my face. The world went… weird. I wasn’t in the mud anymore. A brilliant flood of light lit dazzling white marble walls. Reality flickered again. The white was painted over with sprays of blood. Another flicker and then the walls were pristine, clean once more. The Clerics were there cutting me open. Between cuts they morphed into black figures whose edges frayed in the light. I looked down my body and watched them rummage through my organs. The body they pillaged kept changing though. Hume, dwarf, flerae and others I had no name for. They put things in and took things out. Strong hands gripped either side of my head and I was forced to look up. One of them was leaning over, peering down at me closely. Instead of facial features though, their face was just the cleric’s symbol branded into smooth pale flesh. Iron claws pried my mouth open. The design blurred and ran, coming free of the face spilling towards my open mouth through the small gap of air between us. I tried to avoid its descent, but in addition to the hands holding my jaw open, more hands still gripped my head. Like a spiky eel, the symbol scraped down my throat leaving a harsh burn in its wake. I fought as I could. My body’s instinct to expel the vile thing had my throat bucking like a hooked fish. The thing reached my stomach and a particularly potent odor hit me out of nowhere. Chrysanthemums? Then the symbol seemed to explode. I was consumed from the inside out by cold fire. Finally, the blessed oblivion swallowed me.

Chapter 24

I woke up. Which was quite the surprise in and of itself. Events came to me in disordered fragments. Raina’s, the Cleric, brown cloaks and Blue Eyes. Hints of nightmares and pain. Speaking of, shouldn’t I be hurting? I opened my eyes to darkness. Switching from sight to touch I shifted my extremities. Not only was there no pain, but I also discovered that I was wrapped in warm, soft, silk sheets. Sheets on perhaps the most comfortable bed I had ever lain in. I rolled my shoulders and flexed my thighs. Well, this was certainly an unexpected, yet most welcome, turn of luck. I fought an arm free and peeled back the covers. Running questing fingers over myself told me that my rough, and likely shredded, clothes had been switched with a long silk nightgown. My digits glided across the material, seeking out the places where I remembered being wounded. I encountered only healthy flesh and felt only wisps of pleasure from the way the silk rippled against my skin. I brought my hands back up to gingerly pat down my face. Not a bump or bruise marred it. I slid a finger down my nose and worked my jaw to confirm it, but my mind was already moving on to more important matters. Like whom had healed me. Blue Eyes? The slight chill of the air found me, and I brought the covers back up, burrowing a little deeper. I knew I should be getting up and gathering more information, however I was just so very, very comfortable right now. I ignored the nagging parts of my mind for as long as I could before reluctantly beginning to move again. Using my hands, I felt for the edge of the bed. It was apparently massive, and round, as I had to crawl to find the padded boarder that encircled the edge. My fingers met heavy cloth and with a light push, light broke through, pouring into my dark cocoon. I recoiled with a soft curse, burying my eyes in the crook of my arm. Preparing myself this time, I lifted the thick layers of drapes aside and peered out into the room beyond. Opulent wood panels descended from the ceiling with a slight curve, to a meter off the floor. There it was met with dark black stone that ran the rest of the way down the wall before also spreading out over the floor in large octagonal tiles. Sticking my head out I looked around. William would be jealous of this room’s owner, even with the lack of windows. To my left was a door, wide, tall and made of some dark, shining material that I suspected was wood. To my right was a dressing area scattered with dark clothes. A chest of drawers and a wardrobe sat out from the wall to either side of a tall mirror. All three of which were needlessly constructed out of wood too. Well except for the mirror’s surface. That I took for silver. A distasteful conclusion was forming from what lay before me. Blue Eyes, the gorgeous woman who had saved me twice, was likely a noble. All this wood had to have cost a mighty fortune. Even magnates like William didn’t have this much capital to waste on interior decorating. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have any particular grudge against nobles. The bloom of disappointment in my chest came more from my crumbling plans to perhaps seduce my savior. While there were no laws against it, relationships between those in Noblesse and those below, romantic, platonic, or otherwise, were frowned upon. I let out a small, dispirited sigh. Then I laughed quietly to myself as this was still a personal record. I’d never been up to Noblesse before. I swiveled my body up to a sitting position draping my legs over the edge of the bed. Using one hand to widen the gap in the drapes I looked back over one shoulder at the magnificent bed. My eyes traced over the pool of black silk and up the eight wonderous, wooden, posts that held up a dark purple canopy overhead. An ugly spit of envy rose in me briefly before I chided myself. Still when contrasted with what my family made do with, this extravagance was a little much. I was all for giving the Citizens incentive to innovate and propagate. Yet as Sophie had once empathetically stated, wealth gaps are cuts in the tree of society. As many ancient empires had learned the hard way, let those cuts get too wide and the society would collapse under its own weight. Philosophical reservations didn’t mean I wasn’t going to make the most of my experience here however. First thing on my mind was seeing if there were more suitable clothes to be found. My feet had barely touched the floor when I withdrew them with a hiss. The phrase ‘stone cold’ rippled through my mind. I regarded the floor with a glare. I was considering forming a blanket walkway to the wardrobe, when the door opened. Our gazes locked. Those rich azure eyes, a hue prettier than any eyes have a right to be, stared across the room at me. Blue Eyes and I regarded one another for a second before she moved into the room and closed the door behind herself.

“Feeling better?” Her words were pared with a soft smile. She crossed to take a pile of clothes off the top of the polished dresser.

I snorted, instantly regretting the slightly rude noise. My hand flew up to cover my nose and mouth. It was just that ‘better’ was a hilarious understatement. “Sorry,” I apologized bringing my hand down, “Yes, thank you, I am feeling immeasurably, better.”

Blue Eyes was dressed in a dark blue blouse that hinted at the solid muscles that lay beneath. It was tucked into black pants with a high waist that cupped her rounded butt before flaring out with loose folds around midthigh. I got lucky and managed to tear my eyes back up before she turned around. With a wicked roll to her hips that said she may have felt my stare, she sauntered back over to the bed and set the clothes beside me. As she straightened, I was struck once again by her height. “Your clothes were, unrecoverable, I’m afraid to say. These may not be the best fit, but they should work for the moment.”

I smiled up at her warmly. “Thank you…” My brow furrowed with a startling thought. “I, please forgive me you’ve saved me twice now and I still don’t know your name.”

“Wynter. Spelt with a y.” It fit her. Especially after seeing her in action. She inspired thoughts unstoppable avalanches and inexorable storms. Wynter pulled the drapes wider and sat down gracefully on the edge of the bed, the pile of clothes between us. “And you have no need for forgiveness. Until this moment, we’ve only been meeting in, extreme, situations.”

I laughed a little. Extreme was a good choice of word. I circled a hand, gesturing. “Well, it’s a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance Citizen Wynter. My name’s Alchemist Vaeronica.” She nodded graciously, but from her indulgent grin I got the feeling she’d already known my name. “I take it this room is yours?”

She looked around, nodding oddly as if having just found out herself. “For the rare times that I’m around to use it at least.” She looked back down at me. “My responsibilities usually keep me out of the house more often than not. You’re sure you’re feeling all right?” Her brow creased as her gaze ran over me. “You were grievously hurt. Extensive wounds, serious enough to warrant numerous healing potions or even a magh’s assistance. It’s almost alarmingly strange that it was all remedied with only a single vial of healing potion.”

One of the few upsides to my strange reaction to alchemic potions. Rather than bore her with a long winded explanation of my weirdness, I decided to dodge the unasked question and just bobbed my head. “I’m fine, good, thank you again. I,” My eyes dipped, and my hands dropped to motion at my, ‘unencumbered’, state. “While I’m unable to give you even a token of my appreciation at the moment, I am an alchemist, so when I’m able to, I’d like to give you some potions in repayment for your kindness.”

Wynter got a strangely smug look in her eye and her lips quivered slightly before she waved off my offer. “Please don’t worry about that but thank you for the offer. The sentiment is appreciated. As long as your healthy that’s what matters.”

“How long was I out for?” I said hoping for the answer to be a small number of hours.

“The night and it’s nearing lunch now. They really did a number on you.” Her face lost some of its warmth and she gave me a serious look. “Seems like you’ve run afoul of a number of dangerous entities. Do you know what they were after?”

“Information.” I rubbed the spot on my thigh where the brown cloak had dug his dagger in. “Although their methods were honestly, not particularly well thought out.”

Wynter laughed. “Heh, if only you knew how true that was. Do you kno—”

My stomach interrupted her with an impatient growl. Closing my eyes in embarrassment, I could feel a blush burn up my now flush cheeks.

Wynter clapped her hands. “And with that thought.” She said, amusement filling her voice. I looked her way as she stood. With a flick of her wrist, she motioned to the clothes. “I’ll step out and let you get dressed. When you’re ready, I’ve asked that a meal be prepared for you.” She immediately dismissed my protests that feeding me wasn’t necessary before stepping out with her mouth locked in a small grin.

I dropped my forehead into my palm. In hindsight, that could have gone much smoother. I ran over the conversation in my mind, regretting most of my responses. Of course, she didn’t need potions, she probably had a room of them. Just in case her contracted magh was otherwise occupied, naturally. Although that did raise the question as to what she’d been doing in both Comra and Indus. Apparently alone both times, and impressively capable in a fight. Was she eccentrically adventurous? or just bored? I spread the pile of clothes out on the bed beside me. They were all made from black silk, with the blouse and skirt having purple embroidery. They, like the nightgown I took off, had obviously been tailored for someone of Wynter’s taller build and draped loosely on me. With the ties though, I was able to adjust them to a point where they somewhat fit and felt fairly comfortable. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and padded over to face it. It might have been just the feel of silk, but I thought I looked quite stylish. With a quick spin I smiled at my reflection. Then took in my hair and frowned. I ran my fingers through the disordered bedhead a few times. Marking it off as good enough, I strode to the door. Being able to see past the canopy from this angle, I could see now that the room curved to a dome. A beautiful, ornate, glass bottomed, niteolux chandelier hung from the highest point. I’d give my arm and both legs to have that in my sanctuary. Giving it one last look I opened the door. Wynter was waiting in the hall outside.

She brightened, gazing over me. “Those seem like they’ll do for now, despite the poor fi—” Her gaze reached my feet and her brow furrowed. “Shoes. I forgot about shoes. I’m sorry Vaeronica.”

“Oh, no, no worries Citizen Wynter, you’ve given me more than enough already.” I held up a finger. “My, boots? Did they… survive?”

“Ah. No.” She cast about as if she could find a new pair for me there and then. I thought it was adorable. “Come let’s get you some food. I’ll arrange things so you’ll have some footwear before you leave.” She turned and took a step before abruptly whipping back around. “Since I’ve pulled you out of the metaphorical Maw, twice now, can I make a request of you?”

The paranoid part of me got loud but she was the reason I was still alive. “Yes?”

Wynter smiled. She leaned down, her eyes glimmering. “I’d appreciate it if we could drop the honorifics and you could perhaps start thinking of me as your, friend.”

I stared back at her wide eyed. I hadn’t been expecting that. “Sure?” Pleased, she started away again. Think of her as a friend? Why would a noble want a Comra alchemist for a friend? Was she planning to use me somehow? I started after her. Even if she was going to use me, I’d help her if I could. The scales were still light on my side. I trailed after her, consciously lengthening my stride to keep up with her longer gait. I turned my attention to our surroundings as the short hall gave way to the room beyond. Large bookcases lined the walls of a vast cylindrical chamber. The shelves of books were three meters tall and the walls continued another meter above them. More of those drool worthy chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Their light pulsed off the walls and fell through the large circular opening in the center of the room. A wide spiral staircase descended downwards through it. Wynter led me across to the stairs and I peered down. Past two more floors, with landings on each, they terminated far below on a lower third floor. We went down past one floor, stepping off the stairs at the next. She led me off to the left, opening a door into what looked like an oversized dining room. She suddenly stopped in the doorway. I was forced to stumble backward or else I would have run into her.

I started when Wynter bellowed, “Quinn!” There was the sound of another door opening further in the room, out of my sight. Wynter spoke across the room to someone I couldn’t see. “Blair! Did Quinn still need some time to prepare the meal?”

A smooth, cultured disembodied voice replied to her. “No, my Lady. The meal is ready, however your father asked that it be delivered to his study. He has invited you and your guest to join him down there.”

I could see Wynter’s back stiffen at that. Her voice came out tight. “Ah, thank you Blair. That will be all. No. Hold a moment Blair.” Her head tilted so she could glance back at me. “In addition to the clothes I’ve asked you to prepare, Vaeronica is in need of footwear as well. Could you please find her something to wear home?”

“Of course, my Lady. Would she prefer sandals, shoes or boots?”

Wynter’s head cocked a little my way. “Boots please Blair, thank you. Oh! And a coat as well.”

“Yes, my Lady. I shall prepare those straight away.”

Wynter turned back to me with an apology written across her face. “My hosting skills are a bit rusty it seems. Do you mind sitting down with my father and me for a meal? The old man seems to want a word in person. Choice is yours. However, I would caution, once he’s taken an interest in speaking with someone, he almost always does. One way or another.”

Well that wasn’t ominous at all. I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I have to say, put that way Wynter, it doesn’t sound like there’s much of a choice at all.” I hesitated, knowing the question I needed to ask might come off as rude. I needed to ask it though. “Will I be safe?”

Wynter drew back a little. A flicker of what I thought might be regret flashed across her face. “Yes Vaeronica. I’ll see to it. You have my word.”

“Very well. Lead on.”

She took us to the stairs again, then down to the lowest floor. The stairs terminated in another much smaller round chamber. A single door interrupted the wall. Unlike the others I’d seen in this place, this one was metal instead of wood. Wynter moved to one side of it and opened the door gallantly. Both room and door must have been heavily sound proofed, for the crashing sound of running water spilled out in a swamping wave.

Wynter gestured inwards with a sweep of her hand. “Please, after you Vaeronica. My father awaits.”

Chapter 25

I walked past Wynter into the room. Stepping inside, I took in the quite grandeur of her father’s…study. The hesitation is noteworthy. Water flowed down stone walls, gushing from lichen coated openings. Not one small trickle, but rather six large streams that created gurgling waterfalls. All of them fed into, what looked to be, a knee deep ring of water. It surrounded the circular stone platform in the middle of the room wrapping around in a moat that was as wide as I was tall. Between the waterfalls, faces of half forgotten deities had been exquisitely carved. The icons of ancient beings flowed out of the rock walls, as if to bear witness to the proceedings within. I only recognized two of them. Both were recorded to have been daimons who had at one time played at being more. While neither inherently kind nor malicious, daimons were renowned for their love of playing ‘games’ with other beings. Higher up, cords of gold, braided with what I suspected was steel, fell from somewhere directly above the platform’s rim. All ending at different heights, they were pulled taunt by elegant glass orbs that emitted a vibrant light. The lights had been bound in silver and gold casings, embellished to look like vines. Below them, centered in the middle of the platform, a large thick rug stretched to within a handspan of the water’s edge. My gaze was drawn across the pitch black rug, over the dark wood expanse of the desk, to the man sitting in a tall wing backed chair. His black and purple clothes fit his tall thin body like a glove. As we approached, he looked up from the etching sheets on his desk and flashed us a toothy smile. For half a heartbeat his visage was overlaid with the ghostly flicker of a thicker, taller, person who’s eyes burned with scorching blue flame. It vanished as quick as it came, leaving me trying to determine if the mirage had been memory, portent or my own mental instability. The man clapped his hands together. “My my, and there she is. Welcome! Welcome to my home!” He rose fluidly and rounded the desk with precise steps that would have come off as a flounce if it had been done by anyone else. “Please, my dear come in and make yourself comfortable.” His words and countenance carried a warm cheer. It was not however, completely genuine. That my years of experience reading people, had only revealed that much, warned me to be exceptionally careful around this individual. His mask was as good as, or perhaps better, than my own. With an effortless grace he extended a hand to the table that sat off to one side of the platform, behind the desk. The table and chairs were wood as well. “We’ve food enough to feed half of Indus. You must be famished after the ordeal you suffered. A simply dreadful tragedy. I do hope your feeling more put together today.” Sympathy seamlessly slipping into his mask, he began to cross the floor to where I stood.

I didn’t want him to. I wanted to turn and run. For I recognized the man before me. Until this moment we’d never formally met, thankfully, but I’d seen him from afar. I knew then, that to date, I’d still never been to Noblesse. Pieces fell together in my mind. Wynter finally made so much more sense. A noble bearing but not a pampered doll, rather she was an accomplished warrior. Beautiful, deadly and driven. How could she be anything but, as the daughter of Gentleman Jack Ash. I froze on the narrow stone walkway that led down to the platform he was on, apprehensively watching his approach. Feeling caught. I suddenly knew how animals must feel the moment before the hunter’s trap closes. That safety I’d been feeling with Wynter dissipated quicker than snow in steam. Different parts of me screamed out desperate plans to escape but none seemed actionable. I couldn’t take him in a fight. Even the mere thought was absurd. Flight? Not that I thought it possible but a morbid part of me wondered what would happen if I turned tail and ran? Wynter was right behind me. What would she do? My indecision made my choice for me. Jack reached me, his torso darting forward. I flinched but he only captured one of my hands. I began to fight a bloody internal war to keep my body from shaking.

Up close his presence wrapped around me. So potent it was stifling. Taller than me by a good bit, he leaned down before speaking. “No need for fear Alchemist Artisan Vaeronica. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction yet. I do think however, that neither one of us are completely unbeknownst to the other.” To my surprise, he drew my imprisoned hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against my bare skin. It must have been my imagination, but I might have sworn I felt something transfer from his lips into my skin. “My name is Jack of the Ash Family. It is simply invigorating to finally make your acquaintance after having heard so much about you.”

I recovered enough of myself to bow my head in turn. “Gentleman Jack, it is a, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance as well. Although, I must say, I had not thought I was worth taking note of.” Or at least that was the public face I’d worked hard to cultivate. Apparently, my efforts had been insufficient. I’d have to double them and take steps to make myself even less interesting in the future. If I kept my head during this meeting that is. Metaphorically and literally. I forced a breath in and out, as smoothly as I could. A thought over a fight. A fight over a battle. A battle over a war. I had to marshal my mind, clear the misgivings from my head and focus on surviving this meal. I drew upon my training to pull together my merchant’s mask. Steeling myself for the trial ahead.

Gentleman Jack shot me a smile that seemed to say he knew too much about what I was thinking. With a gentle, yet iron firm grasp on my hand, he tugged me into motion behind him as he descended to the platform at the bottom. Crossing to the small table, he didn’t release my hand until we were next to it. Pulling out one of the four chairs that surrounded the round, food laden surface, he gestured to it. “Have a seat my dear, please you must take special care of your body in the wake of such an ordeal. Magic and potions may heal flesh and bone, but there are wounds inside a person’s being that they cannot remedy.” His arm swept over the table with a flourish. “I hope you’ll find this meal that my cook has prepared, hmm, rejuvenating in the more esoteric sense.”

I sat primly, adjusting my skirt as he took the seat on my left. On the other side of me, Wynter slid into a chair facing her father. An Ash. I surreptitiously studied her as I settled myself. I could see it now. In my defense of my earlier assumption, there was no discernable difference between them and the few nobles I’d seen slumming it in Comra. Both radiated confidence and a subtle feeling that they were untouchable. She angled her chair slightly toward me. Her eyes were on the food, but I could tell her attention was on me.

“Now ladies,” Gentleman Jack said, “shall we, dig in, as they say?”

It was all a little surreal. Clothed in their finery and saved by their charity, here I was, dining with a living legend and his daughter. A titan of the city who may or may not want to kill me for my meddling. I was still torn on whether this meal might be an elaborate way to begin torture, or if I should put my faith in Wynter’s promise of safety. “Thank you. Gentleman Jack. I’m honored to join you. And your daughter.” And I was. I just would have preferred it to have been under different circumstances. Still even if it as to be my last, there was no reason not to enjoy the meal in front of me now. The food turned out to be a lavishly prepared selection of cut meats, vegetables, and dipping sauces. Making sure my fingers wouldn’t shake, I filled the small plate in front of me.

Jack let me get a few mouthfuls before he started in with his questions. “Well then Vaeronica, we can drop the upper tier formalities, yes? You are originally from Indus are you not? Alchemist Vaeronica just sounds so,” he circled a hand in the air, “cold.” Not waiting for an answer, he continued on. “So Vaeronica my dear, please regale me of what has brought you, and all this excitement, into my humble realm?” He sat forward and propped his chin up on laced fingers, staring at me intently.

What did he know, what did he suspect? It was my first meeting with the Cleric all over again. Once again, I was starving for information, drowning in ignorance. “I’ve been dragged into a bit of a mess. Jack.” Whatever Wynter knew, I could assume he would know as well. Certainly, anything that took place in his territory. “More than one in fact.” I decided to start with the one he was least likely to be involved in. Perhaps a glimpse of the stress I was under would buy me some sympathy. A woman can dream. I made my merchant’s mask tighten a hair to show some strain. “With some assistance from your daughter, I saved some slaves from being recaptured by an unusual group of slavers. People I now suspect to be in the employ of a man who calls himself Erheer.”

He nodded, his lips a tight line. “Yes, Wynter told me of his involvement. If you don’t already know, he runs a street gang in the Indus portion of Ortsua.” He tossed a hand dismissively. “Nowhere comparable to my own realm, naturally. He has no interest in protecting the vulnerable or strengthening the common folk. More aspiring tyrant than proper leader of people. Still, Erheer is not to be underestimated as he is dangerous in his own right.” He put a sympathetic look on his face, that was likely as false as my current smile. “As you’ve unfortunately found out.” His eyes narrowed. “Rest assured, I will see that he and his underlings eventually pay for hurting you.”

I held no delusions that Jack was genuinely angered on my behalf. His ire and any vengeance from the Ash Family, would be for the insult of operating on their land without permission. I almost pitied the merc who’d helped detain me. “My gratitude, Jack.” I turned to Wynter. “And again, to you as well, for all you’ve done.”

Wynter’s mouth went tight for a heartbeat before relaxing into a smile like mine. “Please Vaeronica, aiding you has been no hardship.” She gestured to Jack. “My father and I are very curious as to what you have managed to learn about the women you rescued?”

I saw no reason to lie. “They say they hail from Striped Rock City originally. From what they revealed to me, it would seem that someone from our city, hired kidnappers to infiltrate and drug several residents. They were then brought to our city. They were being transferred somewhere when the women I met, managed to escape.” I looked to Jack and then back to Wynter. “It’s a story that’s not unheard of, however in this telling, there is a most interesting twist. They escaped, because they could use magic.” I didn’t catch Jack’s reaction, but Wynter’s head tilted slightly as one of her midnight eyebrows rose.

Jack pulled my attention back to him with a drumroll of his fingers on the tabletop. “That explains the Magh you mentioned Wynter. I must confess however, the more I hear about this situation, the further I’m convinced Erheer isn’t the one pulling the strings.”

“Someone on or above the Merchant’s Council.” Wynter agreed.

My mind went to William, but only for a moment. I didn’t think he’d be foolish enough to risk the wrath of Those Above over his obsession with obtaining magic for himself. A noble was a more likely candidate for our puppeteer anyway. Yet even then, how could a noble tame a magh? “Do either of you know why someone would have even wanted to capture magic users in the first place? There are very logical reasons behind the law that excludes them from the slave trade. With magic relying so much on the user’s intent, forcing them to do anything is paramount to suicide.”

Father and daughter shared a look across the table. Jack popped a morsel in his mouth and shrugged at Wynter. She got my attention with a light touch on my shoulder. “Unless you can bind them. As Those Above do.”

My eyes darted between them. “But that’s impossible.” I argued. Those Above alone had the ability to bind magic users. That is why only the most powerful, and therefore dangerous, users were bound. With my restricted access and handicapped use of raw magic I had not even been considered. My ability deemed negligible. Any Citizen who did show the required level of potential ability to be trained as a Magh however, was taken before Those Above to swear a, supposedly, unbreakable oath of fealty. “Only Those Above can perform that binding.”

Jack’s voice held an air of irony. “According, to whom?”

My head swiveled between the two. My mind raced. The Church preached that the ability to control magic users was one of the proofs of Those Above’s divinity. A cornerstone of my perception of the world, trembled. If they’d lied about that, or even if they’d just been misled, it cast doubts on Those Above I’d never considered before.

Jack grinned wide enough to stretch his cheeks. “Our ancestors thought the longest lived of paraspecies, the flerae and daimons, were deities in ancient times. Those Above supposedly freed us poor wretches,” he said, his voice heavy with scorn, “from this delusion.” His mouth twisted briefly into a sneer before smoothing once more. “And yet. I would ask you Vaeronica. Why has no one questioned whether they themselves are true deities?”

For all the other lies the Clerics told, for some reason I’d always believed them about Those Above being true deities. They’d never been my deities and I’d never worshipped them, but I’d always believed in my heart and mind that they were supreme beings. The Church and their clerics were a brutal behemoth, but I’d believed them to be the pet monster of emotionless deities. I sat back in my chair, hands falling into my lap. If Those Above were false idols, was their immortality flawed as well? Could Those Above… be killed? My pit of hatred coiled and shifted. Like a great snake rubbing against itself, I could hear its restlessness in my mind. Might I harbor a new hope? The feeble flickering dream to perhaps, one day, have vengeance on not only the Church, but their masters too? Feeling my mental chains weakening, I hurriedly began burying my perilously shifting thoughts. With some effort I forced my focus back to the present moment. I would need to be in a calm meditative state and a peaceful place to contemplate the full ramifications of my new perception. Besides, Wynter had seen far too much of my inner chaos already. My eyes flickered to her. She was in the motion of bringing food to her mouth and slowed, meeting my gaze. Was my mask slipping? Could she see my mental state weakening? How much had she told her father about my, episode? I found that I vainly hoped she couldn’t. Not that it really mattered. So what if the Ash Family thought me a little mad? I wasn’t, and so long as I remembered that, who cared what others thought. In fact, as I thought more on it, perhaps them thinking I was a little unbalanced could work in my favor. It lent me the appearance of unpredictability. A touch of danger to signal that I was not easy prey. I realized I was still staring at Wynter and she, at me. Likely seeing too much with those radiant blue eyes. Clearing my throat, I tore my gaze away and looked at Jack. “If they are being bound by,” I quirked my lips in a small frown, “being bound in some other manner. To what end is it being done?”

He grinned, a certain gleefulness misting across his mask. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Are the people behind this looking to create a force to challenge the established rulers of the City? Or are they gathering resources to attempt a, magnum opus as you alchemists would say. Aspiring to goals beyond the usual mortal desires.” He leaned forward with a smile. “If you find the answer, please share it with me, as I can only guess at this point.”

I gave him a disbelieving look before I could catch myself. I’d once considered Those Above to be nigh omniscient. My small blasphemies simply being too insignificant to pursue. It was strange to even contemplate them being challenged, much less rivaled. “Forgive me,” I apologized, “I find my preconceptions shifting under my feet. Before this conversation I would have found the thought of Those Above being overthrown, laughable.” I looked away from him to stare at the water falling across from me. “And yet now it is as if curtains have withdrawn revealing a host of possibilities, I’d never had cause to consider.”

The senior Ash belted out a laugh to my surprise. “Yes,” he chuckled, “you have the soul of a poet Vaeronica.” A large smile across his face, he reached out both hands as if framing my head from a distance. “I can almost see the gears and cogs of that brilliant mind chewing through what you’ve learned. You don’t seem to cowardly cling to the constraints of belief or tradition that most other people would.” He leaned back, setting his hand on either side of his plate. Not breaking eye contact, he shook his head. “I’m beginning to believe that whatever your flaws are Vaeronica, a lack of adaptability is not amongst them.”

A compliment? I decided to take it as one. “Thank you.” I replied after a beat.

“You’re quite welcome, although I think it’s apparent to most,” He held up a finger, “More accurately, the few, who truly know you. Take your assistance with the Cleric’s investigation for instance.” The topic I’d been dreading, and he sprang it on me like a trap. “I would think having loved ones in the Undercity might sour a person to the idea of, quite literally, bringing a Cleric down on top of it.”

To my shock, Wynter spoke up to defend me. “Coerced assistance. Your aid was not exactly voluntary, was it Vaeronica?”

In the brief heartbeat I had to consider it, I found that I was much more comfortable trying to lie to Jack than to Wynter for some reason. How strange. I looked straight at him. My chin raised defiantly. “The Cleric already knew about Valetin. He also knew that his Clinic was somewhere around here, in your territory. I won’t lie to you,” I lied, “my reasoning was that an unguided Cleric, stumbling around down here, might uncover something better left in the dark. Or under it.” I shrugged a shoulder, widening my eyes. “Honestly, I was thinking more of Raina and, those she protects, but I’m sure you too, would prefer a somewhat controlled Cleric to a wild one chasing its tail.”

He paused for so long that I feared he knew I was distorting the facts beyond measure. Yet his next words let me hope that my twisted truths had slipped by unnoticed. “In that case, I believe we owe you our thanks then Vaeronica.” His smile brightened once more. “Although I must ask, that in the future, if you hear that I am looking for you, please do not delay in stopping by for a chat. As with recent events, I may have urgent information. Information,” he lowered his chin and gave me a reprimanding look, “that could save all of us a great deal of trouble.”

Or you may have found out one of my many secrets and feel like torturing it out of me. I had to calm the writhe of rage, that had accompanied his non too subtle chastisement, before I could reply. “Of course, Gentleman Jack.”

We ate for a moment in silence before Wynter asked, “The matter of your involvement aside, what have you learned of the Cleric’s investigation Vaeronica?”

Paranoia reared up to hold my tongue. With an inner sigh I stomped it back down. If she wanted me dead, all she had to have done was, nothing. Twice over. “Not much, and less that makes sense. What I know for sure, are the following facts. Krutov died in his laboratory, his public one, in an explosion. Its cause remains unknown.” I retold them most of what I knew, leaving out a few points. Like how I had certain suspicions of what might have been found in that secret lab. While I did tell them about the cover up attempt, I left out the mirror shards. “Whatever the Cleric discovered in that lab, it was deemed serious enough for the Church to launch, what seems to me, to be an expensive investigation. This in turn has prompted a highly coordinated resistance, by a yet unknown group, who seem determined to bury the secret.” Wynter and her father shared a look. “I know. I know. It’s not much. Krutov did not hold morals above academics, so the possibilities of what this dark secret actually is, are endless.” I took a breath and looked at Jack. “Though from our brief chat, that I’m sure he told you about, I get the feeling Valetin does know something about what Krutov was doing.” I didn’t ask to be let in on the secret, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping they’d tell me.

Jack glanced down at his chalice. He set a finger on the lip and tilted the mouth of the cup toward himself. “Valetin. Yes. He came to me after your conversation the other day, and yes, your instincts are correct. He was, and is, somewhat embroiled in this mess. Erheer, that pretentious gutter fish, came looking for Valetin around four to five years ago. He offered him a position as part of a joint research project. Although Valetin learned of it after, Krutov had been the chief Alchemist for the project.”

“Krutov!” My hand that was reaching for another piece of food, froze. “He was working with Erheer, you’re sure of this?” I couldn’t decide if that was good news or not. Maybe what had the Cleric all fired up was something related to this other research venture? On the other hand though, my ever odious former mentor could have taken a sample of my Alcgel to Erheer and his compatriots, indirectly making my creation the focus of the Cleric’s investigation.

Jack gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. “I am guessing Krutov had indirectly involved Valetin during his apprenticeship. After his demise, Erheer must have made the connection. However that’s all my own conjecture, so take it as you will.” He waved his hand. “Anyway, according to Valetin, while Erheer kept the details of the job offer vague, he told Valetin that the project’s objective was to lengthen and increase a being’s vitality.” I made an unsurprised noise. It was a common objective for Alchemists, and therefore a great front for all manner of hidden agendas. “Being low on coin and ready to take some risk to remedy it, Valetin accepted.” Jack brought a hand up and tossed it carelessly. “First year goes by smooth. They start him off on the basic stuff, but they don’t make the same mistake as the Alchemist’s Guild. They recognized his potential. Soon they had him in charge of his own team.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, grinning. “Given even a sliver of opportunity, that man is an exceptional Alchemist.”

I laughed. “I never doubted it. By way of his notes and recipes, one could say Valetin was more my mentor than Krutov ever was.” Although I certainly agreed with his assessment, I noticed that Jack seemed to be going out of his way to paint Valetin in a most favorable light. Was Jack fond of Valetin, or simply giving his servant some praise?

Jack hummed in agreement. “So much potential, wasted and for what?” His head twitched and for a second his mouth curled down. Then Jack’s smile sprang back onto his face. The change happened so fast that it scared me a little. “Our dear Valetin soon advanced to their lead team. For a full six months he enjoyed the recognition of his peers that he’d always craved.”

My eyebrow rose of its own accord. “I take it that the other shoe dropped not long after that?”

“Hmmh,” Wynter hummed around a mouthful before swallowing. “Right on his bleeding heart.”

“Apt Wynter.” Jack smiled kindly at his daughter. “Unusually, poetic, too.”

I looked at her in time to catch the exasperated glance she gave her father. My eyes darted back and forth between them. “What happened?”

“They brought him before the overseers of the project. Erheer and two Clerics. He said their names were Farrow and…”

I didn’t catch the second name. Farrow. Impossible. I fell back in my chair. How could he still be alive? It had to just be another monster with the same name. Fate wasn’t that cruel, was it? “That, no. Sorry.” My mind mashed the conflicting information together. “A Cleric named Farrow? Are you sure? Did Valetin tell you what he looked like?”

Jack cocked his head to the side. “As sure as I can be. Not without a doubt of course. Though at the time, and in all the years Valetin has served me since, I’ve yet to find out that he’s ever, even once, lied to me.” His smile widened. “Also, after hearing his story, I sent spies who reported the same.” Jack gave me a considering look, hesitating before saying, “As for what he looked like,” I could see him pause to search his memory, “Valetin did mention that the one called Farrow was an elderly hume. ‘A once large man, who time had withered like a prune’, was the description he gave.”

My palm pressed into my temple as my fingers dug into my hair. “How can that be?” The description fit, yet could he truly have survived? Was the Church’s magic that formidable? No. No living creature could have survived what I’d witnessed.

Jack laced his fingers, leaning forward. “Do you know this person Vaeronica?”

“Perhaps? No. It must be someone else. I can’t believe… you didn’t mention a scar, did you? Very visible, across his mouth. Valetin would have seen it, would have mentioned it. Couldn’t have missed that… Yes, no couldn’t be who I was thinking of.”

Wynter touched my shoulder drawing my attention. Her expression was pained. “There was a scar Vaeronica. Valetin mentioned seeing one. Just as you described.”

“He did?” Was she lying to me? Clerics, they weren’t immortal. Even Those Above may not be. So how? “No, he must have lied or been mistaken or deceived or that would mean Farrow is alive!” I spluttered empathetically, my voice tearing and fluctuating uncontrollably. They were one mind. A single monstrosity, yet some parts were worse than others. Farrow had been… My hands flew to clutch the chair arms. This didn’t, it didn’t, there was no logic to this! “Clerics can’t come back from the dead! They are only mortals.” I was dimly aware that I was raising my voice and that I really shouldn’t at these people. My logical thoughts were winnowing however. In my brain the new, aberrant, information pushed against the foundation of my psyche. The well of malice within me began to roar with a sound like storm winds across an angry ocean. As if such a noise could create actual pain, my head started to hurt. The bound anger strained its chains. I needed space. I needed quiet. I needed Farrow to be dead! Clutching my head with my hands, I threw myself to my feet. The chair tumbled to the floor with a clatter. My feet took me away from the table, no destination as my mind was otherwise occupied. Abruptly iron arms came around me and I was lifted off my feet. I struggled for a moment. Then thrashed wildly as a shocking deluge of water poured over me. I sputtered and coughed, getting a mouthful. I was then pushed face first against a wall. Not hard enough to bruise, just enough to pin me there. Cool water soaked my hair and poured down my back. I found my feet and pushed against the hand pinning me. It disappeared instantly and I staggered back into the stream. The waterfall engulfed me and, I quickly recognized how much calmer I already was. I bent my head down so I could breathe better. Sucking in deep, heaving breaths. I let the weight of the water pull my shoulders down and wash away my pent up anguish. The cleansing chill doused my burning thoughts, quieting them. As my aching mind grew less inflamed, I managed to relax my body a little too. It was a few minutes before where I was registered again. My next thought was regret for the scene I must have made. Quickly followed by a stab of shame that Wynter had borne witness to my weakness, yet again. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. Opening my eyes, I stepped out of the waterfall, turning toward the platform. Pushing and pulling hair out of my face, I gathered the wet mass and dropped it down my back. Wynter sat on the edge of the platform near me with her feet crossed under her. Gentleman Jack sat in his large wingback chair, behind his desk. Both were staring at me. A flush enveloped my skin despite the cold. However, as I met their gazes one at a time, I found that each held only calm regard. No disappointment. No revulsion or pity. Just patient acceptance. It was humbling. Not to mention, all the more embarrassing when I recalled that Jack had been praising my adaptability just moments ago. Looking away I apologized. “Sorry about that. I have… I sometimes need a moment to calm my mind.”

Gentleman Jack spoke at the same time as Wynter, who ceded to her father. “Don’t dwell on it for a moment dear Vaeronica. All that matters is how you’re feeling now. After the trials you’ve endured recently, no one can blame you for having some, adverse reactions to your experiences. Add on top of that a… significant surprise, and it’s understandable that a person may need a moment to, recollect themselves. If you feel more rest would help, I can arrange for a private room to be made up for you.”

I was already shaking my head before he finished. “I, thank you Jack, but I really do need to get back to my store sometime today. I’ll be,” I checked my metal state to make sure I wasn’t about to lie, “okay to continue with our discussion. After that however, I really must be going.”

“I told you she was good people. She may bend and even break yet still, she presses on.” Wynter spoke to her father but didn’t look away from me. I thought I saw an interest that mirrored my own in her gaze. Or perhaps it was only wishful thinking. She rose, hopped down into the water with me and held out a hand. “If you’re okay with it, I’ll let my father finish his story while I go get you some dry clothes.” She quirked up one side of her mouth. “Then I’ll get you back to your store. Hopefully in one piece this time.”

“That’s very kind, Wynter. Thank you.” A weird feeling, something of a cross between apprehension and relief, flashed through me as our skin connected. I grabbed her hand, overly conscious of the contact, and used it to lever myself out of the water. Her support was as solid as a safety rail. Without thinking I turned around and reached down a hand to her, but she only snorted at it. A grin and twinkling eyes softened her rebuff. Touching two fingers to the edge of the platform, she popped out of the knee high water effortlessly. Her body brushing past mine gently, she headed for the door with a low, “See you soon.”

Was I imagining things or was that flirty? It had been a while and I’d always had trouble reading romantic signals. Was she attracted to me, or was I merely misinterpreting her unexpected kindness? And if it was the former, did I want her that way? She was undeniably attractive, yet after Lucal I’d learned a relationship required so much more than just simple physical attraction. On top of that, even if she was flirting and I did want to date her, my life was more of a mess than usual right now. Hardly the most optimal environment for a seed of companionship to bloom in. Perhaps I was overthinking things. In my defense my mind was in high gear, fragile and over encumbered. The issue of Wynter and I could wait. Forcefully bringing my thoughts back into the present moment I set the Wynter questions on a mental shelf. I’d investigate them later. When her father’s eyes weren’t trying to bore through my skull. My wet socks made damp footprints across the rug to one of the seats in front of Jack’s desk. I filled my lungs once before sitting down. My mind was unsteady but using willpower I thought I should be able to keep things together until I got back to the store. As long as Jack didn’t have any more world shattering revelations for me.

“Here Vaeronica.” Jack flicked his wrist and sent a wadded up towel flying over the desk to me. “I’d hate for you to catch a chill.”

I tried to catch it, yet my now sluggish body lacked the coordination and the towel tumbled into my lap. I picked it up, but only kneaded the material with my fingers. “Thank you, Jack. I know I’ve imposed on you quite a bit.” I blew out my breath. Even knowing that I risked another break, I couldn’t leave our previous conversation unfinished. I needed the information Jack had. “You’d said that Valetin was introduced to,” I stared down at the towel grasped in my clenched hands, “those in charge.”

“Hmmhm, Valetin told me that they sat him down and elaborated on what they called, the next phase of their project. Testing live subjects.”

“And this scared him away?” I said my voice sharing my disbelief.

“Involuntary, test subjects.”

Oh, that, changed my perspective somewhat. I started to wipe some of the water off my exposed skin. The air down here wasn’t freezing but it was cool enough that I could still catch sick if I didn’t get dry soon. “I can see how that would be off putting. Is that when he came to you?”

Jack’s lip curled. “No, I was his second choice. First, he went to the Alchemist Guild.”

I paused in wiping my neck. “Why?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “He never gave me an explanation and I never asked. I would speculate that he might have thought they’d intervene. Naturally, their idea of taking action was to pass the matter to another organization. The Church. Valetin was not eager to end up at their tender mercies, so he slipped away.” He drew a hand across the air in front of him. “When he found his way to me, we made a deal. He swore himself into my service, and I set him up at the Clinic, with the promise that he’d be protected from any attempts to silence him.”

“Did he ever find out the true goal of that project? What Erheer and the, others, were trying to accomplish?” I said, my voice stumbling as I danced around dangerous thoughts.

“Nothing past a vague outline of a magnum opus that would combine Alchemy and Magh craft. Whatever the end result is meant to be, Valetin said that some of his work could have been applied to cause a lifeform to start breaking down. Physically.”

In my mind, I began to imagine something like my Hālitūs de Vesuvius. My creation wouldn’t completely liquify a body, but it would shred your lungs if you couldn’t escape. That would only be the alchemic properties too. Adding Magh craft to the mix… “So, we have Erheer and his… compatriots who started this project. Krutov’s brought in at some point, working in secret for Erheer. He dies and Valetin’s pulled in. Erheer, his friend or someone above him, starts kidnapping untrained, unbonded magic users from other cities as test subjects.” I curled the towel in my lap. “Then Krutov’s lab is discovered, and the Cl— investigation begins.”

“And that leads to us sitting here.” Jack gestured, parting his hands to either side before setting his elbows on the desk and bringing his hands together, lacing his fingers. “Unless…” He trailed off.

I indulged him. “Unless?”

“No. Never mind.” He scoffed, with a dismissive shrug. He finished with a chuckle. “It’s not as if I would need to tell you what would happen if I found out you’d lied or left something out.” My merchants mask didn’t waver, but fear stabbed my spine. Jack continued, his smile gentle. Almost comforting. “You grew up in the Undercity with that darling of a woman, Raina. So naturally you know how I deal with… problematic citizens.”

The threat was not exactly subtle. I had to wonder why bother at all? Did he already suspect I knew more? Or did he know I was holding out on him. Was this him giving me the chance to confess? I gambled that he only had suspicions and simply said, “If I could tell you more, I would. Your daughter’s the only reason I’m alive so…” I trailed off with a shrug. It wasn’t technically a lie. Let him infer from it what he would.

He paused a second, a corner of is mouth curling up. “Excellent, just so long as we understand one another.” His gaze drifted off me, seeking a point across the room, behind me. “While I have you here, perhaps you can shed some light on one other thing that has been on my mind, Vaeronica,” He said thoughtfully tapping the pad of his forefinger against his bottom lip, “your peculiarly premature graduation.” He leaned forward, not smiling now. “After all I’ve learned about your rubbish mentor, I just don’t see him, after all that time, changing his feathers as it were. I cannot see him developing a moral compass or respect for a fellow practitioner. So I’m left befuddled as to why he would let you graduate early.” He held up a hand to forestall any comment from me, but I hadn’t been about to say anything. I was too busy trying to craft an answer. Jack’s tone went flat, almost as if to contrast his next words. “I do not doubt your proficiency at your craft Vaeronica. It is more the social logic that, just, doesn’t, add up.” Looking askance at me, he waited in silence for a minute. Then bored with waiting for me, he just asked. “Vaeronica, why did Krutov let you graduate?”

As he’d already let me know he wouldn’t buy most of the excuses I usually gave, perhaps I’d give him the truth. Or a least a part of it. “I made him an offer.” I met Jack’s gaze and held it a moment. “You are quite right in your speculations on Krutov’s character. He didn’t have a sudden change of heart. He was a greedy bastard to the end,” I tilted my head forward not breaking eye contact, “and I used that against him.” A transaction that may lie at the heart of this tangled mess I found myself trapped in now. Crinkling my merchant’s mask, my mouth pulled into a rueful grimace on its own accord. Softly, almost to myself, I muttered, “Though I’ve come to regret the choice since then.”

He lifted a finger. “I’d advise against feeling regretful Vaeronica. So long as you take the time and effort to make choices you believe in, regret is like lace on chainmail. Useless fluff.”

I grimaced at him. “And when it turns out that the outcome of every option is a poor one?”

He smiled widely. “Then you can only choose the one that pleases your heart the most. You will still get it wrong sometimes.” The corner of his mouth curled turning his smile wry. “Long years of experience have taught me that such is life. Putting off the choice though, running from the decision. Well,” he spread his hands, “That in itself, is just another choice in disguise. Another decision with consequences.” He leaned forward. “Speaking of, what—”

“I think I have everything this time!” Wynter’s loud declaration rolled down the walkway behind me.

My savior thrice over! I turned, rising in the same move. “Boot’s too?” I asked with a laugh. I had a large smile on, but it hung by a thread. I could guess what Jack had been about to ask and really didn’t want him, of all people, prying into my transaction with Krutov, or finding out about Alcgel. Wynter was returning my smile as she sauntered toward me. She only had what looked like a stack of towels in her arms. I raised an eyebrow. “Is that the newest fashion? Towel chic?”

She grinned wide. “I think you could pull it off, but no.” She traded me my wet towel for the dry ones, which turned out to be just one, gargantuan towel. “Wrap that around yourself and let’s head back up to my room. You can get changed there.” She placed her hands on my shoulders and looked over my head. “You’re okay if we take off, right Father?”

I didn’t look back, not wanting to bring any more attention to myself. I rubbed my arms. Feigned a small shiver. Just a pathetically cold woman here, please take pity. I tried not to react when Jack’s voice crawled across the room to us. “Yes, please go get cleaned up.” We’d already started for the door when he called out behind us. “Though Vaeronica,” My steps hitched, “I will be eagerly looking forward to our next conversation. Don’t let too much time pass before coming back to visit. I think we have much to learn from one another.”

The words chilled me more than the cooling water.

When she returned me to her room, I saw that Wynter had indeed gotten everything this time. Perhaps too much. I already owed the Ash’s far more than I could pay back. Sinking deeper with every breath it seemed. Alone in Wynter’s room, stripped down to wet skin, I hurriedly finished drying myself off. Then collapsed face down onto the bed. My life was spinning out of control. The solid mental machine Raina and I had constructed, was clanging and keening. New parts clashing with the old, making the whole thing unstable. I needed to shut it all down. Conduct some sorely needed maintenance through meditation. The Maw take Krutov. And the Clerics. Dathu and, whoever was working with Erheer. And Erheer himself and everyone else who’d decided messing with my life was somehow their right. I pushed my forehead into the bedding. Just one step at a time. I took a deep breath, rocking back on all fours. I let it out slowly. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. Flipping around I sat on the edge of the bed. I needed to get out of here first. I finished toweling off and regarded the clothes. Another full set, much akin to what Wynter had lent me, but when I put them on, I found them a bit more fitted for my smaller size. Fine leather boots with no heel almost came up to the knee and felt like they’d been handmade for my feet. They couldn’t have. Could they? There were matching leather gloves that covered the forearm. The capstone of the outfit though, was the long leather coat. Not mere fish leather either. It put the other two I’d wrecked to shame. Falling just below the skirt hem high on my shin, the beautiful black coat had the same purple embroidery as the gloves and boots. The inside was silk lined, purple again, but the shiny material stopped at the waist. Leaving only leather below. It didn’t have any inside pockets for vials, but that was fixable. When I had it all on, I looked in the mirror. I didn’t know what to make of the woman gazing back at me. While unhealthily pale, she looked, noble. Regal. I didn’t know how to feel about that. Placing a hand over my heart, I looked down at myself. A jarring contrast to the Cleric’s animal that had crawled out of the ground all those years ago. I brought my other hand up and clenched the leather glove into a fist. I’d adapted since then. Jack had pointed out something I’d never consciously let myself recognize before. I was good at acclimating to change. I could and would keep adapting to whatever life threw at me. One step at a time. I moved back to Wynter’s bed, sitting down heavily. Maybe my mind wasn’t the mess I was making it out to be. The well of rage and hatred was secure. As for the revelation about a certain person from my nightmares? So what if they still plagued the mortal coil. In fact, their survival was a boon for me. I still owed them so much suffering. Boots entered my vision interrupting my reflections. I’d been so deep in my mind, I hadn’t even heard Wynter come in.

She crouched in front of me, arms resting on her thighs. “Are you going to be all right Vaeronica?”

“I think I am.” I stated, pleasantly surprised that my words rang with genuine truth. I thrust my hands behind myself and propelled my body up.

Wynter straightened with me. “Well even if you don’t feel it at the moment, I must say,” she gave me a slow inspection with her eyes, “you certainly look it.” I felt my blood quicken in response to her heated perusal and husky voice. She reached out as if to touch the coat but brought her hand back, clenching her fingers as if fighting for control of them. “I think I like you in our colors.” She added almost to herself.

If I didn’t watch myself, I’d be one of the Gentry before I knew what was happening. “You really didn’t have to get all this stuff for me.”

“I wanted to.” She shrugged, then frowned at me. “And don’t even say a word about repayment. Its my gift.”

“Why?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why what? Why give you a gift?”

“Yes. No.” At her confused head tilt, I asked a question that had been nagging at me. “Why get involved Wynter?” I took a step closer. “The market in Comra. The alley way with Erheer’s men. These clothes are the least of it really. Why have you gone out of your way for…” I didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, I just pointed at myself.

Wynter reached out and laid a hand on my shoulder. “At first, I did it because at the market you took a stand for those women despite the odds or the futility of the act. You did what you thought right because you couldn’t not. That’s what got me interested in you Vaeronica. Since then, you’ve only continued to display a fascinating depth of personality.” She squeezed her hand lightly before stepping back. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ll do next Vaeronica. With ever growing anticipation.” She jerked her head toward the door. “For starters, however, let’s get you back to your shop. Come on.”

Chapter 26

At the stair and lift landing I went to get in line for the stairs again, but Wynter pulled me into the lift line instead. I wasn’t about to complain. My body may have been healed, but it was weary with fatigue. I cast an eye at the mercs.

“Don’t worry.” Wynter was watching them too. “Our Gentry had a, chat, with the merc who sold you out to Erheer.” The smile she cast back to me had a cruel edge to it.

Pleased at the thought I reflected the same back. My eyes didn’t leave her as she looked forward again. I studied the sharp lines of her face from the side. I felt so comfortable around her that it had been easy to forget she was an Ash. As we ascended back to Comra and worked our way south to the skytrain station, I found that I had to keep reminding myself that this woman as still a potential threat. Sure she’d saved my life, but had the reason really only been mere curiosity? What happened when she grew bored of me? The paranoid part of my continued to whisper in my mind even as Wynter paid for our tickets back to my store’s sector. I felt a pang of guilt at the glaring contrast of my less than charitable thoughts, but there wasn’t much I could do since I didn’t have a single coin on me. The car was almost empty, the only other passenger being an elderly woman. With a slight nod to her Wynter and I took our seats near the rear of the skytrain car. The old woman scowled at us, moving to the opposite end of the car. A natural lull, in what had been near constant discourse with Wynter, fell over us. I half listened as the steam tanks were filled. Hidden somewhere behind us in the rear of the car, the steam audibly hissed as it was piped in from above. The rush of pressurized steam cut off and with a ding of a bell, the doors clanged shut. I settled in as the skytrain jolted to life and set out from the station.

“Quite the views up here, aren’t they?” Wynter commented.

I smiled, looking out the reinforced glass windows. Over the top of the wall the distant forest could be seen to the south of the city. “Yes. It’s certainly one of the better benefits of living on this level.” I glanced at Wynter and then back out the window. “I think, however, that such sights could easily become regrets.”

“Oh? How so?”

I bit my lip, searching for the best words. “Once you’ve seen and experienced the sight of a vast world outside the walls, losing it would be hard.” I gestured out the window. “To know this was here, but then be forced back into Indus. Val—,” My mind stumbled. First correcting itself because I was back in Comra, then recorrecting because I was still with Wynter. “Valetin. For instance. He grew up here in Comra. Now he’s lost this view, this reminder that there is more than just the mud, metal and blood of the city.”

“Mmmh.” She hummed neutrally in reply. “I think I get your point, however, I’m not sure if I fully agree.” I shifted to look at her, but she kept her gaze aimed past me, out the window. “I feel that the citizens of Indus, and the Undercity, should all witness this at least once in their lives. Young children especially. While there would be a feeling of loss, I think the greater tragedy would be in never knowing. To think that all there was to this world, to life, is the,” she turned those vibrant blue eyes to meet mine with a wry grin, “mud, metal and blood.” She tilted her head a little. “I think they could use a little more fuel for their dreams. Besides,” she tossed up a hand and rolled her eye’s, “No need to pity Valetin. The clinic being where it is, he likely sees more greenery than you!”

I chuckled at that. It surprised me how much I enjoyed conversing with Wynter. After seeing her skill with a sword, I might have figured she’d value physical exercise over mental. Far from being the typical warrior type, she displayed an impressive understanding of academia. Disembarking the skytrain we kept up a natural flow of conversation. By unspoken agreement we discussed little of the looming events. Sticking to more general topics. My words never seemed forced despite speaking more than I had all year. Almost too soon we walked off the bridge street and onto the ring road that fronted my store. I was slowing my steps, reluctant to break off the discussion, when I noticed a person stepping away from the store’s doorway. It was Lucal. Of all the… Thankfully he hadn’t noticed us yet. I reached out and grabbed Wynter’s arm.

She tensed under my hand. “What is it Vaeronica?”

“Just someone I’d rather not talk to. Maybe if we—” I cut off as he noticed us.

A large smile crawled onto his face. “Vaeronica, my flower!”

“My flower?” Wynter commented quietly. She sounded slightly disgusted.

I sighed heavily. “Mistake from my past,” I said out the corner of my mouth quietly, “one I wish would just disappear already.”

“I could make that happen.”

I snapped my head up to her, an unintentional grin blooming. “I just might take you up on that if he doesn’t get the message.” I wiped my face of emotion and donned my merchant’s mask.

Lucal crossed to us. “My flower, I know we had a—” He cut himself off after taking a second look at Wynter. I knew him well enough to follow the shock and recognition that went over his face. Worry soon followed. If his snow white skin could get any more pale, I’m sure it would have.

“Lucal, what are you doing here. I believe I made myself clear during our last conversation.” If we hadn’t been in a public place, I would have done more than just sound frosty.

“I, well after I. Uh.” He took two short steps toward me, on the side away from Wynter. “Do you know this woman you’re with Vaeronica?”

“That’s Alchemist Vaeronica, Citizen Lucal.” I said pointedly. Crossing a hand in front of me, to gesture at Wynter I said. “And who my companions are,” I raised my chin, “is none of your business.”

Wynter placed a hand on my shoulder, moving forward a step. “We, in fact, are already acquainted Vaeronica.” She gave Lucal an evil grin. “Isn’t that right, Citizen, Lucal?”

I glanced at her. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm,” She hummed silkily, “in fact, my father knows him too.” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “You’ll have to excuse us for the moment Citizen Lucal, but be assured,” her voice dropped so only we could hear it, “I will make the time to catch up with you, soon.”

I nearly clapped my hands in glee. Lucal looked like he was close to wetting himself. This encounter couldn’t have gone better if I planned it!

With a touch to Wynter’s hip, I moved us around the flabbergasted Flerae and up to my door. I was giddy with satisfaction as I dug the key from my cleavage and unlocked the door. Holding the door to let Wynter pass, I took one last look at Lucal’s horrified face before shutting it firmly.

“I find myself apologizing a lot these past few days it seems. Sorry about that Wynter, I swear my life’s not usually this messy.” I somewhat wearily walked past her to lean against my counter. “And thank you, that was, you were,” I gestured to the closed door grinning like a fool, “just perfect.”

“Immh,” She shrugged with a small grin, “I can think of numerous times my past has popped up at inopportune times. Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. I won’t hold your past against you if you don’t hold mine against me.”

I laughed. “Deal.” In high spirits, I pushed off the counter and moved over to the potion rack. I took four that I thought Wynter might be able to make use of. I laid them on the counter and bent behind it to retrieve a few healing potions from the vial carrier. I could replace them later. Scooping the eight vials in my laced hands I brought them over to Wynter. They were actually worth more than my new attire at least thrice over, but if I was weighing the scales in my head, saving my life twice over, kept me firmly in her debt. “I haven’t forgotten what you said about repayment, but I want you to have these. You can use them to save me sometime. Again.”

Wynter considered me a moment. Then started loading them from my hands, into her pockets. “I’ll do that and thank you Vaeronica. So, this is your store.”

“Yup, this is it.” Bobbing my chin, I looked around. “Its not huge but it works for me. Serves the purpose.”

“You strike me as a very practical person.”

I lifted a shoulder and let it drop carelessly. “Life has shown me that practical thinking keeps you alive longer.”

She turned to look at a display of burn balm, but I could see her watching me from the corner of her eye. “The, incidents. At the store in the market and at the mansion. Are they a routine thing for you?”

Do I randomly go crazy all the time is what she was trying to ask. “No, not these days anyway. Honestly, when I was younger, they were more regular. A, dear friend helped me get them somewhat under control though. I hadn’t… It’s been years since I’ve had a, moment of, well…” I drifted off, tossing a hand in the air to replace the word I couldn’t find. Or the one I didn’t want her to hear.

She focused her beautiful blue gaze on me. I was thankful that when she spoke it was with curiosity and not pity. “Do you think the first time it was the magic that set it off?”

“Yes, or at least that’s my hope.” I made a rude face. “I must have been quite the sight.”

She chuckled. “That’s one way of phrasing it. All around us I see people going as docile as a sedated slave. Except for you. You almost seemed to wake up in a sense. Suddenly raging with a ferocity that would put a dire beast to shame.” She smirked and snickered. “Just lacking their strength to back it thankfully.”

I rolled my eyes. “We all have different areas we excel in.”

“Yes. For instance, I think I’d give my arm to be able to get the effect you do from a healing potion.” I could feel the interest in her words. “I’ve never seen someone heal so much, and so quickly.

I tried to brush it off. “What can I say? I mix a mean potion.”

“Vaeronica,” Wynter chided me softly, “I didn’t use one of yours in Indus.”

That quieted me for a moment. Unexpectedly, from shame at not being truthful with her, more than any fear for my secrets coming to light. Besides Raina, if I owed anyone some truth, it was Wynter.

“If you’d rather not spe—”

“No.” I cut her off. “Its okay. Nothing too special though. Just a, lets call it a quirk I have. Alchemy, and as far as I know magic in general, tends to,” I wavered a hand, tilting the palm back and forth, “react differently for me. The way healing potions work for me, is the best thing about it. Everything else is…” I moved closer to Wynter and caught her gaze. “On our walk over from the lift, we were talking about terminology. What you called a spool, and I called a reservoir, the place we, metaphorically speaking, ‘store’ magic? I don’t have one of those.” That was me, unique like a stripped screw.

“Oh.” She put a finger to her lip in thought. “How curious.”

Stepping away quickly, I scrambled to change the conversation. “You know, your father was nothing like I thought he’d be.”

“Oh?” Wynter chuckled. “Were you expecting a madman? A psychopath that could kill or kiss on the tip of a hat?”

I looked away. Glad she’d let me change the topic. “He has built quite the reputation.” I moved to my counter and hopped up on it.

Wynter followed, leaning against it. “A carefully crafted one. As you caught a glimpse of, he’s a little different from the tales about him.”

“Different, but, and forgive me for saying so, just as dangerous.”

“Oh, very much so. I’d honestly think less of you if you hadn’t caught that.”

“Then there’s you.”

Wynter raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“You’re the polar opposite in a way. Apart from the common knowledge that your father has kids, there isn’t a chirp or whisper about you.” I gestured to her. “You cast such an imposing sight, there should be songs and poems galore.”

“Oh Vaeronica, you’ll make me blush.” Wynter’s grin was easy and in good humor, but her eyes held something else. A heavy intensity. “My father will apparently have to work harder if he wants to misdirect you.”

I thought about that for a moment. “He wants the people’s focus on him?”

She pointed two fingers at me. “Exactly. The Gentry all know about me of course, but they have orders to keep their silence, even to their closest confidants.”

My eyes narrowed. “There’s more to it than paternal protection I’m guessing.”

She chuckled. “One conversation and you have his number. There are numerous reasons why it’s better for the details about me to be, vague.”

I rolled that around in my mind. I cocked my head, sending my braid off my right shoulder. “Wynter, what exactly is your job, or responsibilities, in your family?”

Wynter looked away, shrugging a shoulder. “Nothing glamourous. I help father enforce his control of the territory. Even he can’t be everywhere.”

I wanted to push for details. Wynter’s reticence was clear though, so I changed the topic. “What do you know about the Duke Ortsua?”

She crossed her arms and regarded the floor, brows furrowed. “Duke Hui Ortsua. There’s the normal gossip that’s attached to every Noble. Beyond that though, there’s a lot of conflicting reports depending on the source. He’s seen favorably with all the Guilds and the Church.” Wynter met my eyes. “He’s apparently a generous patron of Alchemists in particular.”

Was that why the Cleric was taking me with him? “Does he have any connections to less than reputable people?”

She flashed her teeth. “You mean like my father? No. Definitely not with him.” She shook her head. “And as far as I know, not with any of the other Indus powers. What’s your interest in him?”

I made a face. “The Cleric plans to drag me up to Noblesse tomorrow to see him.”

Wynter stood up straight. “I should let you get some sleep then.” She drummed her fingers once on the counter before giving it a tap with her whole hand. “I shouldn’t have to tell you to watch your back up there Vaeronica. Duke Ortsua is an old Flerae as well as a noble. He’s smart, dangerously powerful, and his pride runs deep.”

I hopped off the counter. “I’d almost prefer another meal with your father.” I said jokingly. “Almost. As a fish swimming with sharks, I know not to bring up the subject of food.”

She grinned. “If you’re aware of it then the danger is at least lessened.”

Joy seemed to come easy to Wynter and I liked the look of it on her. Standing there in my store, lit with a dying sunbeam, she was a contrast of fantasy and homy reality. The feelings I got from the sight were confusing. Wynter fit, but at the same time seemed foreign as if she were too fantastic for such a mundane place. She shifted and I realized we’d been standing there for more than a few moments.

“Well, I should leave you to it then.” Wynter said, breaking the brief silence.

I wanted to smack myself. She likely wanted to be done with babysitting me and I’d been drawing things out. “Yes. Right. Again, thank you for everything Wynter. Will I,” I paused, surprised that I was looking for an excuse to see her again, “if you need anything please come back. You know, if you need more potions or anything.” I finished lamely.

She bobbed her head. “I will.” Her cheek pulled one side of her mouth up. “Ill see you again soon Vaeronica.”

I saw her to the door and watched as she disappeared around the neighboring buildings.

Chapter 27

I spent most of the night in my Sanctuary. I tried to keep my word once given, so I prioritized finishing the hospital’s order despite my eagerness to get on with other tasks. The hardest part was keeping my mind on the work at hand and not letting it wander over the difficulties in my life. I’d made so many healing potions, my hands could almost do it by themselves. At times, I’d gotten so sick of the process that I’d contemplated batching orders in large quantities like some of the larger alchemy stores. The problem was that the quality of the finished product plummeted and I just wouldn’t lower myself to that. Not to mention it required far greater amounts of magic. I checked my timepiece when I placed the last potion in the carrier. Night would have fallen outside. I’d ended up making four extras for my own use and had nearly sobbed when I used up the last of the solaris sudor I’d just finished the other night. I might have actually let out a whimper. One more line item to add to the increasingly long list of things that I was behind in. I flexed my fingers and stretched them out. Cramming alchemical work in like this was, ill advised to put it mildly. Can’t be distracted when playing with alchemy unless you wanted to lose life or limb. The loss might happen despite total concentration, but at least I would know that I had done what I could to avoid it. Yet with the way my week was going, if I didn’t have some defensive measures, I would undoubtedly be made to regret it. So, I took a few minutes to center myself then got to work on the Hālitūs de Vesuvius. The array of palm sized bowls in front of me held all my ingredients for the potion. Portions measured in advance to smooth the process. Annoyingly a few wisps of hair drifted into my eyes as I bent over the small burner, but I did my best to ignore their tickle, slowly adjusting the flame until it was a cheery blue. Vibrant, and yet still pale if compared to Wynter’s eyes. There had to be something more than hume in her blood. I flicked the pads of my fingers lightly over my temple and back behind my ears on either side of my head. Gently, I placed a copper bowl on the stand above the flame, filling it with a viscous green gel that softly flopped into the bowl. As the gel heated, I turned, checking out the rest of the ingredients. Half the vial of my precious phoenix blood. Ground belladonna and a selection of other herbs, three flowers of antimony and a thimble of wood shavings. With a very un-lady like grunt I checked my notes again, running the formula in my mind to make sure I had everything. That done, all I could do was wait for the gel to reach temperature. My thoughts, and gaze, drifted to my design board. The meter by two meter slab of slate was set in a metal frame that stood beside my workbench. Its surface had the chalk rendering of my overarching magnum opus. A recklessly innovative project that I’d been developing for years. A lot of my hopes had been riding on it. Now I’d piled even more on. Information. Power. I stared at it for a while longer before finally sighing. I had to admit to myself, if this experiment didn’t bear fruit, then I was going to have to seriously consider seeking the same sanctuary as Valetin. Not that seeing more of Wynter would be a hardship. Sensing my attention was elsewhere, my overworked stylus chose then to squirm from my hand, hitting the floor and rolling to a rest precariously near a hole in the metal decking. I scowled at it, at once praising its bravery, and condemning its actions. Vocally. I’m not crazy. I just wanted that etching implement to know its place. Checking the copper bowl first, I rose from my workbench and paced past the slate board. The errant stylus had stopped its flight on the far side of it. With a resigned sigh I snatched it up and returned to my workbench. Sitting down I noticed that the green substance had finally started to form bubbles in its surface. Signifying to me that it was ready for the next step. I carefully proceeded to follow the recipe I had etched down, each movement as delicate and precise as I could manage. The recipe took another two hours to finish, and it only made two vials, but I considered it well worth while. I hadn’t been overselling Hensso, much, with its value. The particles released might even cause the Cleric enough harm to at least give me a head start. If the worst should happen. I tilted the vial in the lantern light. The only way I could justify continuing down paths that got ever darker, was if I continued to hold faith that I could achieve my goals at the end of it all. A city cleansed of clerics and, if Jack spoke true, the removal of Those Above too. My eyes flicked to the slate board beside my workbench. So very many possibilities. The energy required to fuel the distillation field had been the largest hurdle. When I had initially calculated the required flow, I’d been so aghast at the amount it hardly seemed sane to continue. I’d never accredited myself with a lack of stubbornness however. Last year, tired and feeling slightly weary of my lack of progress, I had inadvertently stumbled on the answer at Raina’s of all places, while rolling a lump of dough between my hands. All I really needed, was an initial surge. Just enough to spring the trap. The original purpose of the alchemic machine had been to harvest raw magic anyway. Once I began reaping its essence, I could just feed that back into the imprisoning web. I’d use the prisoner to power it’s own jail. My mind still half on the project, I set the two vials I’d just finished in a side pouch of the carrier. Securing them, I drifted over to the cabinet the Alcgel was curing in. Opening the door, I carefully extracted one of the eight vials. I brought it close to the lantern, checking the compound’s development. The segments of sky blue streams that threaded the teal compound had lengthened nicely. Another day, two at most, and it’d be ready for use. If I got through my visit to Noblesse in one piece, tomorrow afternoon I could use the last my coin reserves to purchase the materials for the… I still hadn’t given the device a name. Spirit Shredder had a dramatic ring to it but sounded slightly too maliciously madcap. I was going to consider what Raina might call it yet then found myself wondering what name Wynter might give it. Dissolution Web? Disintegration Net? I waved a hand as if to brush it off my mind. The important thing was building the device right now. Even if it worked, I likely wouldn’t be publishing a dissertation on it. I returned the Alcgel to its rack and set about detailing a list of supplies I’d need to purchase tomorrow.

Chapter 28

The morning found me all too soon. Bleary eyed and fuzz brained from lack of sleep. In a haze I ate a small breakfast and splashed water on my face before pulling the clothes Wynter gifted me back on. With lending my others to Sedna, Tia and Atabey and then losing my own, the fine black and purple outfit was all I owned. Between all the extra purchases I’d been making and still had to make today, I was effectively coinless. Which having to stay closed today certainly wouldn’t help. Delivering the hospital’s order wouldn’t help in that department either. We’d agreed to monthly payments and the next wasn’t coming for another two weeks. Nothing for it though, desperate times had called for desperate measures. If things got too tight, I could always look for the courage to visit Hennso again. Something I really wished wouldn’t be necessary. Ever again. Perhaps Wynter might know of an alternative? I dug out an old dagger and sheath from between some metal crates. The fish skin leather grip was unraveling but the blade still held an edge. Base functionality was all I needed for the time being. Replacing the two I’d lost in Indus would just have to wait on the same list as extra clothing. Strapping it to my waist, I stumbled downstairs. I barely had the wherewithal to remember to take the Hālitūs de Vesuvius vials out of the carrier. Delivering those with the health potion would have been a disaster of the worst breed. The completely avoidable kind. Removing those reminded me to take the extra health potions out of the carrier as well. I set one on the counter and slotted the others into the shop’s potion rack. I put one vial of the Hālitūs de Vesuvius in the vault and carried the other upstairs. With care, I sheathed it out of sight but within reach from the bed. Just in case. I’d imagined that we would be thoroughly searched before our visit with the duke today, so taking it with me was out of the question. Unless he became the danger, the Cleric should be adequate protection. I took my shiny new coat down with me this time. Laying it across the counter, I paused a moment to dig in my muddy mind in case there was anything I’d forgotten. Not coming up with anything, I decided that I might as well open the store while I waited for the Cleric. He’d told me we had a late afternoon appointment with the duke but hadn’t mentioned when he was going to meet me. No customers came in the short time that I waited anxiously. All too soon the hulking form of the Cleric filled the doorway. With a predatory smoothness to his gait, he stalked past the rows of low shelving toward me.

“Good Morning Cleric, Dathu. May your day be sun filled.”

“Too you as well!” He said with cheer in his deep voice. “Please, when it’s just us Vaeronica, I urge you to call me Dathu.”

I really wanted to raise an eyebrow. It was a struggle to keep it down and my merchant’s mask in place. Why would he insist, because his tone had said this was not an offer, on me using that much familiarity? Even if I didn’t hate him personally, and his order in general, we’d only known one another for a few days. Stymied, I simply nodded.

“Are you all set to head to our meeting. I must say your outfit today suits you well. You look, beautiful in it.” He chuckled deeply. “I must admit I’d been a little trepidatious about bringing you to Noblesse in your usual attire.”

“Thank you. Dathu.” I choked out. Normally after such a stinging backhand compliment, I would have told the teller to jump in the Maw. Had to ingratiate myself though. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. The mix of insults and minor compliments only made his intentions more perplexing though. He had to be toying with me. Trying to get me to slip up. I slid the healing potion I’d left out on the counter into one of the coats outer pockets. Hefting the vial carrier by the strap and bringing it into view, I looked questioningly at the Cleric. “Would it be all right with you if we made a brief stop by the sector hospital first? I’d hoped to get this done yesterday but,” I thought back to the assault and tensed to hold in a shudder, “ran out of time.” Now there was a morbid double entendre that had come far too close to being true.

“I think that’s acceptable Vaeronica, we have sometime before our meeting with the Duke.” He shuffled his feet and looked back at the door. “I do hope that it doesn’t take too much of our time though, as I’d hoped to share a meal with you while we were in Noblesse.” He smiled broadly. “Their food is, of course, the best in the city.”

The most expensive, I’d give him that, but I seriously doubted there existed in this city, food that tasted better than Raina’s. “I look forward to that.” Not. “The delivery should take no time at all, just dropping this off.” I slung the vial carrier up onto my shoulder and etched a deeper smile on my merchant’s mask. “Shall we go?”

***

After dropping the vial carrier off with Douglas at the hospital, the Cleric led me to the skytrain, and then the interlevel lift. Not shutting up for more than five minutes the entire way. It seemed like everything need a personalized comment from him. The Church was given credit for everything good about the city. A child’s smile. The Church’s will. A happy couple? The Church orchestrated it. The City’s walls, roads, buildings, and every faucet of the infrastructure were kept standing by the Church’s benevolence alone, or so the Cleric’s drivel would have me believe. By the time the lift stopped in Noblesse I was sweating with the effort it took to keep my mouth closed. Mustn’t tell the Cleric to jump in the Maw Vaeronica. Not while we still need him. The landing that the lift emptied out onto was akin to the one in Comra. Simply better and more, in every regard. More room so that the alchemically enhanced autocarts could all fit to load and unload cargo. Better decorated, fountains doted the open area, ringed with artfully crafted benches. The large metal tiles beneath my feet were so clean, the inlaid designs gleamed. Even the slaves looked better, I had to begrudgingly admit. At least in regards to their apparent physical health and the quality of the clothes they wore. Then there were the Citizens. It was unlikely that any person at the landing was a noble and yet they wore nicer clothes than William or Circe. Dressed in the latest fashions, with eye catching, vibrant colors, the crowds looked like a moving flower garden. Oh, and there were actual flower gardens too. I mocked the obscene display of wealth. Silently of course. The Cleric likely wouldn’t appreciate my wit. In the center of the landing a large clock tower told me it was minutes to noon. We made our way off the landing and began to follow the signs that pointed the way to the Noblesse skytrain station. Striding along the glimmering streets, I found myself growing angrier, the farther we went. Everything here was just so opulent. Each time I saw another gold inlaid building or carved wood door, I was slapped in the face with the wealth disparity between the levels. I’d be one of the first to admit that it’s bad between Indus and Comra. Noblesse though? It was like another world. Autocarts quietly rushed down the streets. Their near silent passage was jarringly different to the chugging noise I was accustomed to. Houses had real wood trim, some going as far as having wood roofs too. And the plants! Beds of flowers dotted every street, one or two had vibrant green bushes, and the main streets had small trees in huge metal pots. I wanted to touch one, but when I left the Cleric’s wake to do just that, he curtly called me back to his side. Like I was a slave to be minded, or the Javier’s dog. I tried to ignore as much of it as I could after that. We reached the skytrain station, a simple task with the ornate signs to point the way, and I held back a grimace as another cleric crossed our path. Dathu greeted her warmly. He asked me to get our tickets and moved off to one side to chat. I turned my back to them, rolling my eyes. Yes Cleric, sure Cleric, what ever you say Cleric. Would you like tea with that Cleric. How about poison? I wandered across the station looking around the station for the attendant’s booth. The task took longer than I’d like to admit. My eyes had swept past the structure a few times, but I had been looking for the small dingy booths we had on Comra. This one was the size of a small house! I briefly wondered if the Comra attendants knew how much bigger these ones were and if that was the root of their perpetual grumpiness. The man tending the ticket window caught sight of me approaching. As I came close, he sniffed and sneered. The pit of wrath rolled in its cage.

“And how can I help you… Citizen?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Was the pause really necessary?”

He sniffed again and looked mildly offended. “I’ll say again, may I help you? If you have no business here, please move along. We have laws about loitering on this level.”

Oh well la di da, I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. “How much for a ticket to Ortsua Station?”

“One diamond coin… Citizen.” He said looking perversely please with himself. “As all tickets are in Noblesse, regardless the destination,” His voice dropped low and for my ears alone cussed, “mut.”

Scheisse. This is what I’d been afraid of. I was going to end up killing this fancy Gutter fish. The Cleric would see. It’d be a whole ordeal. I’d almost forgotten that breeding was a big thing up here. It was fine if you were flerae, dwarf or hume, but only if you were purely one or the other. While I was working on suppressing my urge to throttle him, I jumped as a deep voice came from behind me.

“Is there an issue Alchemist Vaeronica?”

I half turned and loudly said no at the same time as the pinch faced attendant said, “Yes Cleric, there is!”

Could it be? Was I actually glad to be working with the Cleric for once? I smiled pleasantly at the attendant. “Cleric Dathu. My apologies, on not having our tickets already.” I gestured to the attendant. “There’s been some difficulty.”

He turned from me to the attendant. “What is the issue?”

“Cleric,” the man spoke firmly but I noticed he looked a little less sure of himself since I’d called the Cleric by name. “this, woman was holding up my ticket sales. She didn’t seem to have the coin to pay.” I rolled my eyes but didn’t call him on the lie. Well, the partial lie at any rate. I really didn’t have the coins, yet that hadn’t really been the issue.

“Well, we shall not impede you any further good sir. Two tickets please.” As he spoke, he slid two diamond coins onto the ticket counter. They glittered in the bright sun.

“Yes Cleric.” The attendant took the coins, the crunch of a metal press sounded under the counter and he slid two glimmering tickets back to the cleric, who turned and held one out to me.

Hesitantly, I took it from him. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome, shall we? I believe the next train is due any minute.” He said gesturing toward the raised rectangular area sheltered from sun and rain by a decorative roof. Near the edge of the platform, we stood silently for a minute or so before the skytrain pulled in. I’d seen it from a distance, from far below before, but witnessing it hurtle toward me, made me appreciate just how impressive it really was. The three ‘cars’ were simply massive, I figured my apartment and shop could fit into each one, at least three times. Two rows of large glass windows ran down the side, indicating to me that there were two levels in the cars. Regardless of their size, there were no jerky shudders or squealing metal to herald the skytrain’s deceleration. Instead, the large cars drifted gently to rest in front of us. The doors sprang open with an almost silent click.

The Cleric held forth his arm. “Please, after you.”

I temporarily forgot about him when I saw what awaited me inside. One or two elegantly dressed people glanced at me, but most didn’t even look my way. The immaculately clothed and groomed people, however, weren’t the cause of my amazement. The inside of the skytrain car looked like what I imagined the ballroom of a noble’s mansion to be. Lace like gold trim edged the white walls where they met the ceiling and the dark marble floor. No metal bench seats for the soft behinds of the wealthy either, instead plush leather chairs dotted the sides of the car. I moved to an empty one, admiring the fine craftmanship before I sank into it. My entire body sighed in relief. If it weren’t for the cleric seating himself beside me, or our destination, I might have fallen asleep right there. The chairs were all slightly angled together, so I found myself facing the cleric, who was settling himself. As the skytrain doors shut and the station began to move by, we quietly regarded one another. It was he, who broke the silence first.

“How was your visit in Indus?”

I nodded, my merchants mask still smiling at him. “Good, thank you. And your… venerations?”

He actually had to think about it for a moment. I didn’t really want a serious answer. How much variation could there be to a weekly ass kissing? “Illuminating, thank you for asking. Those Above showed me some aspects of myself that I believe I’ve been blind to for a while.”

I couldn’t tell how literal he was being. I knew his ability to use magic was somehow linked to them, but I’d never heard or given thought to how deep that link went. With my recent epiphany that Those Above might be no more than long lived charlatans it made me wonder. “Mmm, that’s, good.” What more could I say?

He nodded, glancing out the window at the cityscape that flew by. “Have you given much thought to having a family in your future Vaeronica?”

I blinked at the jump in topics. “I didn’t, haven’t really.” I thought of Lucal. “My last relationship… ended poorly. I think it will be a while before I consider another. My research and running the store takes quite a bit of my time anyway.”

The Cleric quirked his lips with an acknowledging nod. “We do have to search through a few bad ones before Those Above direct us to the right person.” He smirked. “I would not fret overly much about it though, Those Above will connect you with your destined partner eventually. You never know, they may have already put them into your life.” He leaned back in the chair wringing a complaint from the leather. “As for your career, I’m sure the right partner will enable you to put it aside. Any worth while suitor would provide for you. It would be for the best. We both know alchemy isn’t the safest profession.”

Did he even comprehend how rude he was being? Behind my merchant’s mask I sneered at the arrogant cleric.

“What about yourself?” I focused on his eyes as I asked him. “Would you put aside your career for the right partner?”

He met mine, a subtle challenge in his gaze and his mouth turned down. “Serving Those Above is a calling, not some mere occupation. I would expect that my future partner will recognize this and support me fully in my service. As is the duty of every Citizen in the protective embrace of Those Above. As you do now.”

It’s not like I exactly had a choice. “As you say, Cl— Dathu and please forgive my careless words. I find myself somewhat distracted by the splendor here.” I flashed him a smile as false as my words. “I hope Those Above see fit to grace you with a romantic partner soon. You deserve such happiness for your exemplary service.” He gave me an odd look and I wondered if perhaps I’d laid it on a little thick.

“I’m honored to hear you say that Vaeronica. I also feel you deserve to have love in your own future. I just hope that you will be open to it when it appears.”

Gee, lucky me. “That’s most kind of you to say. I will certainly endeavor to.”

He smiled. “I must confess, to me it is something of a miracle that you yet remain single. You seem to be such an intelligent and hardworking young woman. To own a store on Comra at your age is a truly noteworthy accomplishment Vaeronica. Was it your parents who help you set up your business? Are you close with them?”

“No.” Parents? Raina, I admitted to myself, could be counted as a parental figure in some regards. Yet if I’d ever known who gave birth to me, my memories of them had been lost. Like everything else before the orphanage. My eyes drifted out the window. I, unfortunately, still had those memories. Despite my best efforts to be rid of them. I certainly wasn’t about to dig them up just to humor the Cleric’s curiosity. While he was welcomed to pry all he wanted, nothing said I had to make it easy on him. I shifted my gaze back to him and could see the questions accumulating in his eyes.

Much to my surprise though, he tactfully let it go and remained on topic “In that case I am even more intrigued how you came up with the funds for such a venture.”

“Legally.” I said, putting a slight grin on my mask for him.

He laughed. “That I assumed, come now, how did you do it?” His tone turned sly. “I could just have the information collected you know.”

I sneered behind my mask, but to him I nodded. “You could. Very well Dathu. I was noticed, early on, by a very wealthy merchant. They helped me get into the Alchemist’s Guild for the proper schooling and when I was ready to begin my own practice, they kindly gave me a small loan I’ve since been paying back.” I shrugged. “Not too interesting of a story is it.”

His brows furrowed in thought. “This merchant, sounds extremely generous. Are you two, or were you…” He trailed off suggestively.

I raised my chin, struggling to keep my flaring temper in check. Hadn’t he just praised my mind and effort a second ago? Yet now he immediately assumed, the only way I could have caught the eye of a wealthy patron, was by using my body to tempt him. “I’m afraid I don’t know what your asking Cleric Dathu.” I baited, struggling to keep my voice naïve and calm.

His nose twitched slightly. “Were you a couple?”

“No Cleric.”

The cleric raised a palm defensively. “I only asked because that amount of charity is rare to see outside of, romantic relations, or family.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I earned my way by merit?” Admittedly there had been a lot of luck involved and a few instances of right place right time, but he didn’t need to know that. “And before you go insinuating any other insulting theories, while we are business associates, that is all we ever were and all we will ever be.”

His face softened, and he sighed. “My apologies Vaeronica, I have offended you. I fear my job requires an inquisitive mind and it sometimes gets the better of me. I did not mean to belittle your accomplishments.” He seemed genuinely sorry.

To keep the peace, I nodded silently but shifted in my seat to watch the cityscape once more. I hoped the cleric would get the hint. Mercifully, he seemed to pick up on my ire and we rode the rest of the way in silence. We exited at an equally impressive station in Ortsua sector. Thankfully, by that time, it was too late for the meal he’d been threatening. We immediately set off, the Cleric once more leading me down disgustingly nice streets as we worked our way closer to the core. It took us probably half an hour to reach the sweeping estate of Duke Hui Ortsua.

Chapter 29

A tall white stone wall stretched out of sight to either side of the looming metal gate that guarded the main entryway. A score of merc adepts in green trimmed, steel breastplates stood rigidly on both sides of the gate. The ones outside, challenged the Cleric as he and I approached, but after only a few words we were waved through. Two of the mercs stayed with us as we were escorted to the mansion. I’m sure they would have said it was out of politeness if asked. The grounds were carpeted with lush short grass. Short rock walls surrounded artistically placed flower beds and tall trees dotted the landscape. I was at once appalled and awed. The cost of constructing such an artificial paradise could likely feed all of Indus for a month. I nearly forgot to keep walking when I happened to glance up one of those gorgeous trees and saw the unbroken sky beyond. I had thought the outer ring of Comra had a good view. What I saw now put it to shame. Nothing interrupted the light blue ocean, save the wisps of cloud that dotted it. Regretfully I tore my eyes from the sight, I was not among friends and I couldn’t be too distracted. It wasn’t a short walk from the gate, so I had plenty of time to marvel at the landscaping before my attention was captured by the magnificent mansion of the Ortsua Dukedom.

“It’s quite something is it not?” The Cleric said quietly to me.

I only nodded, not caring if he missed my nonverbal response or not. The mansion crouched on a slight rise. My first impression of it was that of a giant bird. The main body of the mansion peaked in a single tower. From the main structure, long additions ran out to the sides like wings flaring wide. It was all done in some sparkling white stone, likely a granite or marble I couldn’t tell, but with what it must have weighed, I summarized that the mansion must sit atop a support column. Large ornate windows punctuated the otherwise smooth walls. I had the brief thought that thieves would find it impossible to scale. The towering main double doors were solid wood. A grand staircase descended from them and at the top was another set of mercs. One of the mercs escorting us, spoke with them and they turned in unison to heave open the doors. As they parted, and we passed through, I couldn’t help caressing the polished dark wood. I could buy my store outright with just one of them. Sparing the doors one last appreciative look, I let my attention turn to the mansion’s interior. As one could perhaps guess, the exterior paled in comparison to the decadence found on the inside.

“Welcome to the home of his grace, Hui Ortsua, Duke of the Second Sector.”

I spun to the voice. A gaily dressed man, wearing an abundance of makeup, was striding out of one of the lower hallways that poured into the spacious entryway we stood in. “My name is Tuoge, I serve his grace as an Adjunct.” He continued in an almost fixed jovial tone. “Cleric Dathu, it’s my humble honor to welcome you, His Grace is most looking forward to your visit.” He said clasping his hands together in front of his overly green coat. He then turned to me. “And you would be?”

“Alchemist Vaeronica.” His joy had to be a mask he was plastering on. I idly wondered what it would take to crack it. Then again, living in such opulence, I could be mistaken, and he might truly be filled to bursting with joy by his roll in life.

“Yes, so you are. If you both will please follow me to the solarium, you may await the pleasure of his grace’s presence there.” He turned back to the cleric.

With an authoritarian wave of his hand Tuoge strode toward one of the twin staircases that swept up to a landing on the second floor. Apparently, he expected us to follow. Only one of the mercs accompanied us, staying just behind and to my left. The treads of the stairs were the same dark stone as the main floor. It sharply contrasted the balustrades which were elaborately carved from a white marble with gold veins snaking through it. Another set of mirrored stairs continued up to a higher floor, but the fancy servant led us through an archway away from the landing. We walked down a brightly lit hallway for minutes before coming to a stop beside a dark wood door carved to depict flowers in full bloom. Opening it, Tuoge stepped to one side and gestured us inside ahead of him. I was pleasantly surprised by the room beyond. A long rectangular and brightly lit space stretched out before me. The long wall to my right was comprised entirely of glass panes. Comfortable looking chairs framed three beautiful tables spaced along the wall of windows. Small potted plants and trees separated the seating arrangements.

I had made it as far as the first table when, from behind me, I heard Tuoge’s cultured voice. “Please await His Grace here.” I turned to see the door close. The mercenary who’d accompanied us, stood stiffly to one side of the doorway. So, even a Cleric wasn’t trusted to be left alone. I could have laughed at the pointlessness of the gesture. Short of assaulting the duke himself, the Cleric could get away with pretty much anything. I sat at the middle table, relaxing in the warm sunlight that streamed through the window. The Cleric took the seat beside me. After a few minutes I was wishing I’d brought some reading material. The window overlooked a modest courtyard below. Four thickets of plants framed a gushing fountain in the center. People dressed in white, wove their way amongst the plants tending to them. Although their clothing was plain, they wore extravagant silver chokers inset with what appeared to be red gems of some kind. Nobles passing the time perhaps? I knew I would have loved to be down there amidst all those plants, running my fingers through the soil. A sardonic smile edged onto my face. The perks of being rich I suppose. I absentmindedly watched the people play in their garden as I basked in the sun’s gentle warmth.

I don’t know how long we lounged there exactly but I would guess it was about an hour and a half later when I was pulled from my daydreams by the sound of the door opening again. With the very first glimpse, instinct warned me to beware the man who glided into the room. I knew without a doubt, this had to be the duke. His face was objectively appealing, his pure blood flerae features innately regal. I was abruptly reminded of Lucal, for like him, the duke was visibly of the Dark lineage. Though he looked to be in his early thirties, flerae aged at a vastly different rate than humes or dwarves. The duke’s true age could be many times that. Had he been in the city since it’s founding, I mused in my head. And in what universe had he been born? This one? Or Fae Roe, the flerae’s native world? He was dressed in an ornamented, multi-layered robe. The rich black cloth clung to his form until the waist, where it began to gradually widen, stopping around ankle height. As he stepped across the polished floor toward us, each movement part of a stately dance, I slid on my merchant’s mask. Firmly affixing it. Recalling half-forgotten lessons, I rose from my seat as his assessing eyes swept over us. The duke wasn’t an enemy I wanted, or one I could reasonably expect to survive. Therefore, despite my distain for it, I would scrape and bow like I cared about his station. Whatever it took to avoid bringing undue attention to myself. A lady, dressed the same as those below in the garden, walked in just behind him. At first, I thought she carried a bundle of black silk. The same shade as the duke’s hair. The duke turned to approach the other side of the table. Seeing him in profile, the gears in my mind realigned and I realized, the bundle in her arms, was the duke’s hair. A flowing river of the obsidian hair cascaded down his sculpted back, in a flood of night to his ankles before sweeping back up into the woman’s arms. Not once during the entirety of the ensuing visit, did she let it ever hit the floor. I sketched a curtsy for him. Circe had taught me the genuflection years ago and for once I was not lacking the skirts to preform it properly.

“I hope your day was sun filled Your Grace?” I ventured. The duke’s lips twitched but he didn’t say anything. The woman however, looked shocked and I saw Dathu’s frown out of the corner of my eye. What? Circe’s phantom voice in my head, informed me that I wasn’t supposed to speak until spoken to when conversing with nobles. Oh great, now you remind me I sniped back at it. So much for first impressions. The duke moved to the chair across from the Cleric, gracefully seating himself. I was about to sit back down when the voice in my mind hurriedly told me to remain standing. Only sit when given permission it said. I only, just, stopped the impulse to roll my eyes. Feeling more than a little awkward I flicked my eyes to the Cleric who now stood beside me. The duke settled himself and finally waved his hand. The Cleric sat and none of the voices in my head said anything, so I did as well. I received my next surprise when the woman knelt on the floor beside the duke, carefully gathering his hair. It was then that my mind made the connection between the white outfits and the bejewelled chokers. These weren’t nobles. These were slaves in fancy collars. My mask nearly shattered there and then. I discretely clutched the arm of my chair, trying not to show any emotion as I readjusted my perception of those ‘playing’ in the garden below. Another slave entered bearing a tea set on a tray. Gracefully he set the cups in front of us before filling them one at after the other, starting with the duke’s. I was grateful for the delay. It allowed me a moment to recenter myself. I returned my attention to the duke and found him studying me.

A polite smile cut across his beautiful porcelain face as our eyes met. “Please, be at ease.” He must have mistaken my slip as nervousness. “Welcome to my home. I hope you will find the tea to your liking. I had the crop imported from my place of birth.”

That could mean another city or a completely different universe. If it was the latter, it made the man before me older than the city by a few centuries. Since the portals between our universes had been closed, only living, intelligent beings could travel back and forth. Summoning or sending magic, while miraculous in its own right, lacked the functionality of the ancient portals and left the traveller naked upon arrival. I gave him a flash of my eyes before I resumed my inspection of the teacup. “Thank you, Your Grace.” I said keeping my tone contrite and sniffing the possibly ancient tea.

“My Adjunct, tells me that you have a small shop in my sector on Comra? “

“Yes, Your Grace.” Simple answers should be harder for me to mess up.

“He forgot to mention your beauty. Even with the evidence of mixed breeding, your flerae heritage still shines through.

I felt my eye twitch at the words. “You are too kind Your Grace.” Lucal had made similar comments in the past, but he’d never managed to make them sound so, insulting.

“Tell me, how do you find the,” he circled his hand in the air as he searched for the word he wanted, “general state of the sector?”

“Good, Your Grace.” I said solemnly. Behind my mask I was getting annoyed, impatient for him to shift his attention to the Cleric.

“Your peers, would you say that they are content as well?”

“Yes, Your Grace. As far as I can tell anyways.”

“As far as you can tell?” He asked with some intensity.

I was beginning to feel like I was being led into a trap. “Uh, yes, Your Grace. I am not involved in politics, so I feel unqualified to comment on the wider feelings of the populace.” Where was he going with this?

“Hmmm.” The duke turned to the Cleric. “Cleric Dathu, you’ve been investigating a matter that originated there, is that correct?”

“Indeed, Your Grace. It seems an Alchemist was researching the origin of the Calamity de Rais.”

My world tilted, turned a half measure, and fell back together at the Cleric’s jaw dropping revelation. Oh scheisse, ran across my thoughts, several times over. Krutov had been more reckless and egotistical than I could have possibly predicted. And that was saying something. Anything to do with the Calamity’s origin was strictly forbidden. The, Those Above will smite you, your family, and the neighborhood kind of forbidden. A mix of emotions filtered through me. The confirmation of what had brought the Cleric’s attention was soothing. The realization that I could have stayed out of all this was less so, yet I consoled myself with the thought that there was no way I could have known. That brought me to the question of, what had Krutov hoped to gain by taking such a risk?

“A serious offense.” The duke said gravely. “It is lucky for this Alchemist that they are already dead, or I myself would have delivered them to a much worse fate.”

“You knew of the Alchemist’s passing then?” the Cleric asked the question politely but there was the unasked question of how, the duke had known.

“Yes, Cleric Dathu.” Hui affirmed, giving the Cleric the slightest of nods, “As soon as you made the appointment with me, I thought it prudent to make inquiries so you would not have to spend too much time bringing me up to speed.” The duke spared me a brief glance then returned his attention to the Cleric. “Have you found any leads on where the Alchemist got the information from?”

The Cleric shook his head. “No, we might have learned more from his lab, but an unknown party set off an alchemic explosion that destroyed any clues we may have found there.”

Hui paused to take a sip of tea, his serene face hiding his thoughts. “Yet you were able to find and secure some of the Alchemist’s etchings and research materials before this occurred, yes?”

“That’s correct Your Grace. In particular a copy of the grimoire authored by the heretical alchemist Gilles de Rais and a series of sheets etched with Alchemist Krutov’s personal research notes.”

The duke appeared unmoved by the information but commented, “Most troubling news. I fear to imagine what that kind of information could do in the wrong hands. Though unquestionably insane, the Heretic de Rais was a virtuoso in the field of alchemy.” The duke touched the pad of a finger to his temple. “Even only a copy of part of his research has the potential to once more shift the reality of this world.” He settled his hands, framing the delicate cup in front of him. “The Church, does it know how this, Alchemist Krutov, got his hands on the grimoire?” Hui lowered his chin a fraction. “It was my understanding that all such writings had been collected and destroyed by your organization.” Much to my amusement, his voice carried a spark of admonishment toward the Cleric.

“Most were.” I grinned behind my mask at the tightness in the Cleric’s words. “The Church did decide however, that a few pieces should be preserved. A precautionary measure so that we might identify, and Those Above willing, prevent any future research from stepping too close to the forbidden knowledge.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat displaying an uncharacteristic uncertainty. “We are still investigating, how exactly, the alchemist came by that book, and any others that may have been in his laboratory. The Church has yet to confirm it’s point of origin.”

Yet to confirm… I mentally snickered behind my merchant’s mask. The Church had slipped into the Gutter and was desperately trying to get clean before people started to take notice. I was beginning to put together a rough timeline of events and a large grimy chunk of this mess started with Erheer, his cleric partners and Krutov. First Erheer brought Krutov in on some clandestine project. Then Krutov goes to Hennso, trying to get his hands on the grimoire. Hensso somehow knows the Church has it and gets Lucal to steal the book. Only then, clerics hot on his trail, Lucal gets greedy. He somehow finds out that it was Krutov who’d requested it and decided to cut out the middle merchant. Lucal splits town and Krutov gets the book. While the Church would have launched an investigation over the grimoire alone, that the book had belonged to them doubled their zeal toward the matter. The purpose of the mirror shards and Erheer’s end goal were still mysteries to me, however they weren’t ones I felt a pressing need to unveil. Now that I’d pretty much confirmed my own secrets were safe, I could begin to extricate myself from the investigation and get back to my life. My Cleric free life. If I’d been alone, I would have laughed and spun about in glee.

“…use your own contacts within the Transportation Guild, it would be much appreciated.” The Cleric was saying when I returned my attention to the present moment. “The reports of foreign maghs in our city will undoubtedly take precedence over my current investigation. Even armed with the Heretic’s grimoire, were Alchemist Krutov alive he would still be the lesser threat.”

“I will have my adjunct make inquires and have him report the results directly to you.” The duke turned to look out the window, his gaze sweeping the garden. “I would give you a word of warning however, Cleric Dathu. People so often dismiss alchemy as a lesser alternative to pure magic,” he raised his hand holding up a finger, “and yet, when executed by a master, it can produce results that a talented magh cannot hope to replicate.” Hui dropped his hand. Still appearing to be focused on the garden below, he gracefully raised his teacup to his lips and drank.

I knew which results the duke was referring to. Every alchemist knew of them. A Great work, or a magnum opus as they were traditionally called, was the theoretical pinnacle of alchemy. Alchemic feats so profound that legends had been made of them and their creators. Achieving a magnum opus would bestow instant respect, glory, and wealth upon the creator. Furthermore, and more importantly to some, the alchemist would be immortalized by history. Even those who merely recreated a previously preformed magnum opus were granted prestige.

Setting his teacup back down, the duke turned back to me. His cold blue eyes held mine, for what seemed like a year, yet it could only have been a heartbeat before I dropped my gaze. Hui’s voice held a note of what could have been curiosity when he addressed me. “Tell me Vaeronica, have you ever witnessed a greater working?”

I shook my head, keeping my eyes lowered demurely. “No, Your Grace.” Not yet. So far, I’d only read about them in the Alchemist’s Guild records and books on historical legends. They had all lacked the details necessary to duplicate the feat of course. Telling only of the alchemist’s name, the function of the magnum opus and how it effected the world at the time. In the near future however, it was possible I may witness one firsthand. Though I held no thoughts of fame or fortune, I thought that my own work may someday be regarded as a magnum opus. My final goal was certainly ambitious enough to be considered as such.

“I have.”

His words interrupted my thoughts and made me forget myself. My entire body jolted. My tea sloshed as I leaned forward, my eyes zipped up to meet his.

“Twice.” He added, staring back at me. “I watched as all magh spells were put to shame by the supposedly ‘lowly’ workings of alchemists. First in my youth, with the creation of artificial life. A true Takwin.”

While the duke was absolutely correct in his statement that purely a magh’s magical workings couldn’t, for example, grant immortality or in the instance of the fabled Takwin, create a living being from scratch, neither however, could the majority of alchemists. In fact, most of the legendary magna opera had only been performed successfully in the far distant depths of recorded history. For him to have witnessed two of them was noteworthy in and of itself. Were present circumstances different, I would have begged the duke for details. If the duke had seen the Takwin’s creation, had it been one of the documented instances? If so, which famous alchemist had he been close enough to, for them to permit his presence while they conducted such intense work. More importantly though, with his apparent interest in alchemy, what knowledge had the duke himself amassed on the subject throughout his long life. If he could recreate either of the magnum opera, this entire city would end up changed forever.

Knowing he had a captive audience in me, the duke went on. “Decades later I was fortunate enough to witness the creation of yet another during a great war. Miasma!” The duke’s eyes flashed with the strongest show of emotion I’d seen him display yet. “So potent a sight was it, that to this day I can still recall the memory as if it happened only moments ago.”

I managed to keep my merchants mask steady at the surprise. Out of all the known great works, the Miasma was one of the few I’d never had any interest in. According to legends, Miasma had supposedly been used as a weapon at least three times prior to the Calamity, and once after. Causing catastrophic and long lasting damage, nations had risen, fallen, or changed hands each time it had been unleashed. Its destructive potential was purportedly unparalleled. However, in every mythical use of it, the Miasma had always been a double edged sword. The weapon, or force, as its exact form was undocumented, always ended up escaping the control of it’s wielders and wreaking havoc. Usually killing its creator. As well as every living being in the surrounding lands. Thus, most of the legends that included mention of it, framed it as a cautionary tale. A warning to any alchemist, who let their greed eclipse all logic and sense. So how did the old flerae in front of me survive? How had he come to be involved in the first place?

Not seeing the unasked questions that I hid behind my merchant’s mask, the duke continued. “The creator used it once. To awesome effect. They then learned the hard way, that Miasma grows. Amplifying itself with each use. Ever expanding. The vessel they had constructed to contain it, failed. I escaped using my magic, so unfortunately even I cannot say what became of it after that. The effects it had on the world though, are present to this day.”

Well that answered how he had survived. Though I noted he’d left out the name of the alchemist he’d been with. I’d never heard of the requirement of a containment vessel either. There were, in the old myths, plenty of containers crafted with the purpose of sealing ancient evils inside. The original Pandora Jar came to mind. Yet none had been mentioned in the legends about Miasma. An accidental oversight, or purposeful? I gave myself a firm mental shake. Then reminded myself that I wasn’t truly interested and even if I was, this was not the time or place. Not with the duke’s attention still on me.

He turned a palm up and gestured with it as if in supplication. “Such unrivalled power and still, alchemists are considered inferior to maghs. Do you not find that odd Alchemist Vaeronica?”

I waited, pausing a breath before replying, in case the question had been rhetorical. While contradicting the duke may be a risk, he was not the only person at the table whose favor I was trying to sway. “As you say Your Grace, there is a fascinating amount of potential in alchemy. However, the rarity of a successfully performed magnum opus is, in the opinion of some, cause enough to consider it secondary to the more reliable workings, or miracles, achieved through the use of spells.” I shrugged. “For example, one of my healing potions takes hours and expensive ingredients to prepare. The exact same effect can be achieved by Cleric Dathu here,” I nodded my head toward him, “in the time it takes to utter a few words.”

The Cleric received his due with a slight nod and a faint smile.

The duke however, waved a dismissive hand, returning his gaze to the garden. “Spells run out. Without exception. Alchemy on the other hand, persists. The Calamity De Rais is proof of that. So are the many conveniences we enjoy here in Noblesse. Any, who would discount the power of a magnum opus, are fools. One and all.” He took a slow sip of his tea before speaking again. “Unfortunately, its true that fools are one of the few things in this city whose supply seems inexhaustible.” Setting his cup down he turned back to us. “Getting back to the matter at hand, whatever this Alchemist Krutov’s interest in the Calamity was, would not his death also mean the end to any further usage of the information he’d illegally acquired?”

The Cleric frowned. “I believe its naïve to hope for that Your Grace. A few of the original texts mentioned in his note have yet to be accounted for. By the will, and laws, of Those Above I am duty bound to locate the original sources and ensure their destruction.”

“Of course, that’s naturally the best course of action Cleric Dathu. We wouldn’t want them falling into the wrong hands, again.” The duke’s words and tone were mocking. A none too subtle chastisement, that had the Church destroyed them in the first place, we wouldn’t be discussing the current problem. “If you would however, please keep me informed of any developments that take place in my sector Cleric Dathu. Dukedom gives me both the privilege to keep my subjects safe,” his voice dropped ever so slightly, “and the right.”

The air between them went tight. The Cleric looked as though he’d bitten a fruit and found it sour. “Yes, Your Grace.”

The duke rose, his slave shifting at his side. I tried to ignore her, and the collar. Apparently sensing the dismissal, the Cleric rose, and I followed suit. We were passing the plants that separated the seating arrangements when I opened my mouth. Though I was eager to depart, I couldn’t stop myself from asking just one thing. “Your Grace, before we go, may I ask you a question?”

He stopped and turned, considered me for a second before nodding regally. “I may not deign to answer, yet I am curious as to what you want to know Alchemist Vaeronica. What would you ask?”

“You had mentioned witnessing the creation of a Takwin. I was wondering if you would tell me, what became of it?” Theoretically such a being could have been immortal.

Something cut through his eyes. His answer however, was emotionless. “The creature outlived it’s creator but was unfortunately destroyed by zealous mob who viewed it as an affront to their religion. An unforgivable waste in my opinion.”

Truly. The smallest sample of that being would be invaluable. I gave the duke a thankful smile. “I appreciate your indulgence, Your Grace.”

“Think nothing of it, Alchemist Vaeronica. As I mentioned, I am a great believer and patron of alchemy.” He took a step closer. Forcing me to bend my neck a little more in order to keep meeting his eyes. “On that note, I would like to make you a personal offer. If you ever find yourself in need of more support, please contact my Adjunct, Tuoge. He will see that you receive whatever assistance you require.”

With what price tag? “That is most generous, Your Grace, thank you.” I never would. The venerable Duke Hui Ortsua was flerae through and through. Ancient, powerful, and pure blooded. I would not be so arrogant as to think I could get away with accepting anything from him and not pay for the rest of my life.

He smiled ever so slightly, as if guessing where my thoughts had gone. Making no further comment though, he turned, and we left the room in a procession. Wordlessly he left us at the stairs, ascending with his hair bearer while we followed Tuoge down. I happened to glance up though. One hand on the banister, my eyes met his. I felt a sliver of fear. The primal kind, that prey is all too used to. I’d caught the interest of, yet another, extremely dangerous predator. One more mistake to add to the growing pile. The duke broke our engaged gaze first. A small smile curling his lips. My foot stuttered slightly on the next step, but I didn’t stumble. We continued down to the massive entryway, the Cleric and Tuoge making polite small talk. Our small group was crossing the main floor to the outer doors, when the Cleric suddenly broke off mid-sentence.

“Cleric Etana!” He called out. Almost questioningly. “I’ve not seen you at the Temple in quite a while.”

As he peeled off and hurried through a doorway to the right I uneasily slowed. Coming to an awkward pause in our departure, I was unsure of what to do. A part of me cried out to just leave him. Yet that would mean a long walk back to the landing, in addition to having to take the stairs back down. No denying that the Cleric’s, or should I say the Church’s, coin purse was a handy thing. Aside from the economic price, that route would cost me significantly more time as well. If I wanted to purchase the supplies for the Spirit Shredder, waiting around for the Cleric was my best option. I blinked slowly. Actually, now that I thought about it, there wasn’t a rush to finish my device anymore. In fact, once I disentangled myself from the Cleric’s crusade, I would be able to wash my hands of the whole business. That epiphany was somewhat bewildering. I’d been wound tighter than a pocket watch, running all over the bloody city. To have it suddenly gone, was shocking. I rubbed the back of my neck and flashed the two mercs and Tuoge an awkward smile. What to do? I took a few more steps toward the door. I could now see through the door the Cleric had dashed into. With his large form blocking the way I couldn’t make out who he was talking to, and they weren’t speaking loud enough for me to hear, but from the Cleric’s aggravated movements, I suspected they were arguing. With that accursed symbol grinning at me, I quickly gave up trying to see around him. I found I didn’t care to keep looking at all this disgusting opulence either. Moreover, I now had the freedom to walk away from it. With a quick glance at our stalled escort, I started for the door again. Surprisingly, the adjunct, Tuoge, did accompany me. He even got the door for me. I gave him a polite nod of thanks, but when I moved to leave, he closed it part way. A hint of fear bit into my bones.

“His Grace has offered his support if you find yourself in need of assistance.” He said in a quiet voice. Unexpectedly his tone was kind and even slightly companionable. It had to be false. “I will take the liberty to inform the Dukedom’s contracted mercenaries that you have permission to visit whenever you need. Please don’t hesitate to make use of His Grace’s generosity, Alchemist Vaeronica.”

A little taken aback and almost overwhelmed with the ravings of my paranoia, I widened the smile on my merchant’s mask. “Thank you, Adjunct Tuoge, I will.” He opened the door wide, matching my deepened smile. I walked outside into the glaring sunlight. It was hot in the sun, yet I still shivered. Perhaps I’d just caught a chill. I looked back at the wood doors. Perhaps not. I was halfway to the street when the Cleric jogged up behind me. Scheisse. And I’d been so close to ditching him. At least now I could get back faster. As we left the property, I got the feeling that his mind was elsewhere. He never apologised for running off. Nor did he explain what had been so urgent. We rode the skytrain and descended the lift in a blissful silence. What ever had been discussed between him and his colleague, must have really thrown him. I didn’t care overly much about the Cleric. That said. If this other cleric had said something about me… I evicted the thought from my mind as soon as it entered. I’d drive myself to rash actions if I started letting my paranoia have control. We said a brief goodbye at the landing in Comra. The Cleric told me he’d contact me in a few days, saying he needed to check into a few inconsistencies. Behind my mask I celebrated, but to him I nodded gravely and bid him farewell. Unburdened and, at lest for now, free from the Cleric, I took the skytrain, headed back to my sector. My mind was already focused on the upcoming project.

Chapter 30

Shopping ate up my afternoon, yet by the time the sun sat atop the wall, I was holed up in my sanctuary happily working on the Spirit Shredder. Though there was no rush anymore, I was impatient to finally see if all my theoretical designs and planning would survive being brought into reality. I ended up spending more time than I’d planned to on the outer ring. If I had a cup of trust to give, I would have extended it to Malcom just to get use of his forge. Mine had sufficed in the end, its size had been an issue though. Supplementing the ethane gas with some other alchemic compounds had helped reduce the fuel expenditure, but even so it’d been close. With only half a canister left, I’d unfortunately have to do a refill run before I could begin fabricating the reinforced glass net. I used my bare upper arm to wipe sweat from my face. I was working in only an apron and old gloves, unwilling to risk my new clothes. If I hadn’t been hunched over a furnace for the last five hours the inherent chill of the support column’s interior would have become uncomfortable. Consulting the slate board, I ran through the tasks left that I could still complete tonight. Preparing the area was the only thing that didn’t require more fabrication. With the ring alone being two meters in diameter, the only place with enough free space, was the middle of my sanctuary’s platform. Right in front of the tunnel’s mouth. Since each ‘tendril’ was two meters, one of the athanor furnaces would end up sitting in the tunnel itself. I considered the metal floor of the platform. Underneath the main part of the device’s body, the net and encircling ring of metal, I’d need to etch an array of script. In three concentric circles, these ‘sentences’ formed an outer shell of sorts. It should be a needless precaution, yet since I was working with so many unknowns, I deemed it a necessity. Sweeping the area first, I retrieved a piece of chalk and began sketching. I’d learned early in my training that making a mistake with chalk was far less expensive, or permanent, than one made with etching acid. It instantly paid off tonight as I’d forgotten about the pins I’d need to hold the device off the floor. Blowing out a visible breath, I rubbed out two of the circles of script and rewrote them. This time leaving space between for the pins. The cold had started to creep over me by the time I got all the chalk down. I gathered a stylus and large jar of etching and set them near the chalk. I opted to take a momentary break for before beginning to etch down the script. Squeezing the sluggish blood in my hands, I knew I wouldn’t be doing my body any favors if I pushed on with a chill setting in. Making a quick visit back to the store, I retrieved two fur blankets. With them wrapped around me, I etched into the early hours of the next day. By the time I cleaned up and returned to the store, faint light had begun to creep through the door’s narrow windows. Clad only in the fur blankets, I was just about to seek my bed for a short nap, when someone began hammering on the door. I seriously debated ignoring it. At this hour though, it was unlikely to merely be a customer. My mind briefly went to Wynter. Best check to see who it was, just in case. Tightening the blanket about my waist and clasping tight the one over my shoulders, I pulled on a shoddy merchant’s mask and went to the door. The musician that had turned my door into a drum was the last person I expected it to be. Sedna. She was peering over her shoulder as I neared the door and jumped when I unlocked it.

“Vaeronica!” She pushed past me into the store. “Finally! Please you have to help me.”

Had to? I eyed the few people on the street at this hour and shut the door. Turning to her, I looked her over with an analytical eye. She was still wearing the clothes I’d lent her. Ripped in numerous places, they bore copious mud stains. Some of the darker patches may have been blood. Evidently, she’d found out that going with Erheer had been a mistake. “Sedna, I must say I’m surprised to see you again.” I looked back and forth between the door and her. “What happened to Tia?”

She slammed a hand against the wall and leaned into it. “He, Erheer, he was the one who paid for us to be kidnapped.” More likely the person above him, but I didn’t interrupt her. Possibly a cleric if Gentleman Jack’s information was on point. “He took us to this building near the sea docks,” Her hands curled into fists, “and as soon as we stepped inside, we were knocked out and captured.” She exhaled a shaky breath and stared across the store. “Looking back, I can’t believe how stupid I was to trust him.” She glanced at me then quickly away. “I… I should have listened to you Vaeronica.”

I let my merchant’s mask fall away. Saying I told you so now, would just be childish of me. I stepped toward her, reaching out a hand to comfort her, but she flinched away. My hand hung in the air for a moment before I let it fall back to my side. Sure, she’d been an arrogant brat, but no one deserved to be a slave though. Better to be dead. I felt genuine sympathy for her and Tia, despite the naivety they’d displayed. I was no stranger to betrayal and had known the humiliation of trusting the wrong people. The horror of being reduced to a commodity. “I’m sorry it didn’t turn out like you hoped Sedna. If I’d known then what I know now about that slime, I’d have stopped you from going with him.”

She let out a humourless laugh. “I don’t see how. Short of physical violence. I was determined.” Passion re-entered her voice. “It’s just that I have to get home. I must get Tia home.” There was a noticeable pause before she continued. “Atabey too. Is she upstairs?”

I shook my head. “No, I took her somewhere safer.” Moving past Sedna, I paced over to the counter and leaned against it. “How did you get away?”

She huffed scornfully turning toward me. “They made a mistake, underestimated me again.” She rubbed the side of her throat. “Whatever they were keeping us unconscious with, wore off before they dosed me again. I was able to get my magic to work and got out of the cage but,” She palmed the wall and slowly dragged her hand down it, “they came before I could get Tia out of hers.” She folded her arms, refusing to meet my gaze. “I ran. I had to run, or they just would have put me back in the cage. I,” she let out a shuddering breath, “was forced to leave Tia there.” She violently shook her head then looked up and finally met my eyes. “Please Vaeronica! You have to help me get her out of there.”

The future exploded out in front of me. A million chances and twice as many possibilities. All running back to one decision. To either get involved or bow out here. There were a multitude of reasons for both sides of the choice. If I didn’t help, would Tia and Sedna join my nightmares?

Almost as if sensing my indecision, Sedna’s face tightened. “In my escape, I learned some of what they plan to do to us. They’re going to make us into raw materials for experiments Vaeronica. Nothing more than fuel for their ambitions!”

The well of rage in me reacted to her words. Memories slipped out. Flashes of cage bars, the smell of rotting blood and a body so cold that the icy air felt warm. All orchestrated by the clerics. And it was happening again. The same tragedy would repeat, again and again, until the clerics, no, until the Church itself was gone. Though freeing Tia would only be fixing a single gear in a much larger malfunctioning machine, if I did nothing today… “I’ll help Sedna.” I stated empathetically. I thought of Wynter and Gentleman Jack. I might have to promise them a few future favors, but with the animosity between Jack and Erheer, he’d probably say yes. With the Gentry we could save Tia from a fate worse than death and possibly kill those responsible. Some of them anyways. I gestured to the stairs. “Why don’t you come up, I’ll help you get washed up and check your wounds.”

“Wounds…” She licked her lips. “Oh,” Sedna looked down at herself, “Th-this isn’t my blood.” She stuttered. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” She straightened and tentatively gripped my arm. “We can’t wait, we have to go now.”

“Sedna,” I said gently, “I know you want her out of there as soon as possible, but its going to take some time to get help with this. There’s people I’ll need to convince, information we’ll have to gather about the building and then we’ll have to make a solid plan to get Tia out alive.”

“No!” She protested. “You can’t,” she shook her head empathetically, “You don’t understand.” Sedna squeezed my arm. “We have to go now! They said they were going to use us in a few hours.” She begged me with her eyes. “Please Vaeronica, if we don’t get her out of there soon, Tia may disappear forever.”

I brought up a hand helplessly. “Sedna, how could we possibly pull that off? There are just too many obstacles. Erheer will have mercenaries all over that building. The moment they see you they’ll either knock you out again or skip the pleasantries and just go for the kill.”

“They won’t see me.” She dug a hand down between her breasts and brought out a rectangular piece of metal that had hung from a cord around her neck. Long as my palm, one end had a complicated pattern of thin slots cut out of it.

“A punch card?” I gestured with my hand for her to let me see it. “Where did you get this? And what does it unlock”?

“I got it off one of the people who worked there. I knocked them out during my escape.” Her words were slightly muffled by her arms as she brought the cord over her head. “This is how they know who’s allowed in the building.” She pointed to the words etched into the metal card.

I took it from her and read it. Apparently, it had belonged to an apprentice alchemist named Vyne. As I studied the card, Sedna took my arm again and guided me over to the counter.

Looking around she asked, “Do you have something I can draw with?”

I set the card down on the counter and went behind it. Pulling a small slate board and chalk from the cubby underneath I set them in front of her. Sedna began sketching intently. I soon recognized a floorplan taking shape.

She wrote down a street address off to one side. “This is the address. That,” Sedna said pointing to the punch card, “will get you in the building and up the lift to the floor their holding Tia on.” She finished and looked up at me pleadingly. “If you dress like you work there, you should be able to walk right in the front door and take the lift up. Since they knock us out, they don’t have anyone guarding us. It should be no problem for you to get her out of her cage.” She pointed to the large room on her map. “There are windows in the next room over. Its high, but if you open the window, I can get up on the neighboring rooftop and toss a rope up to you.” When I frowned at the map and rubbed the back of my neck, she rushed on, her words tumbling out anxiously. “Please Vaeronica! I know this is risky, but after what you did to free us in the market I know if anyone can do this, its you.” She thrust her hands out, taking my free one. She clasped it firmly. “Please Vaeronica, help us one more time. I’ll do whatever you ask to repay you. Just help me get Tia out of there.”

Ugly memories from my past bubbled into the forefront of my mind. I had to shut my eyes for a long moment to dispel them. I let out a heavy sigh. If they were planning to use Tia soon, then Sedna was right. Waiting was out of the question. By the time I got in to see Gentleman Jack and negotiated his help, Tia could be lost forever. I briefly considered sic’ing the Cleric on them. Far too many threads leading back to my indiscretions for that though. He’d learn it was me in the market and things would only go into the Maw from there. I might be able to still get Wynter and the Ash Family’s help though. I bit my lip as I stared into Sedna’s hopeful eyes. If I sent her to the Aiera sector, while I went straight to the docks, she could at least send a plea through the Gentry. It would still take me some time to scope out the mercs guarding the place and study the manners of those coming and going. Like Sedna said, I could sneak in alone and at the very least cause some delays. Buy some time. Sedna should be able to traverse the sectors, with help or not. I nodded twice, once to myself and once to her. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Something flickered across her face. I wondered if she’d been fearing I’d say no. “Thank you. Thank you Vaeronica. I will never forget this.” She said looking vastly relieved.

I flashed her a grin. “Can’t let my rescuing you be for nothing.” I squatted and brought up the store’s coin pouch, peering inside. Just enough for two skytrain tickets. I handed half to her. “This is enough to buy passage on the skytrain over to the Aiera sector.” I forestalled the question I saw her about to ask with my other hand. The blanket about my shoulders slipped and I dropped the pouch to grab the material before I ended up flashing Sedna. “You’re going to go down the stairs over there. When you get down there, look for groups of people wearing matching black and purple clothes with tall hats. Ask them to take you to Wynter Ash. If you tell her what’s going on, there’s a chance she’ll come with you to help us. Or at least send some people anyway.” I added remembering that while she’d been nice to me, she was still practically a noble and therefore likely above coming herself to help us. “Then with or without them you can follow me over to the building.” I bent over and snagged an etching sheet I kept on the bottom shelf. I handed a simplified map of southern Indus to her. “Follow that.” I pointed out Aiera and then Ortsua to her. She looked like she was going to protest the detour so I quickly mollified her by saying, “Its going to take me a moment to get prepared,” I certainly wouldn’t be walking in there unarmed and wearing furs, “if you head out now, well, everything should workout. Don’t worry.”

“I… Okay let’s do it your way.” She flashed me a smile. It was oddly sorrowful. “Thank you again Vaeronica. I’m sorry you got wrapped up in all this.” Gripping the pouch of coin, she dashed out of the store. I watched her go then dropped my gaze back to the crude map. I guess I had a damsel to save. I paced around the counter and opened the potion cabinet. First though, I would need more coin, and some clothes I wouldn’t mind getting blood on.

Chapter 31

I distrustfully eyed the mercs passing in front of the grimy building. I didn’t stare, lest my lingering eyes trip that sixth sense some people seem to have. Instead, I kept my eyes mostly on the rattling bone dice in front of me. It hadn’t been hard to find a game of dice, it would have been stranger not to, this close to the docks. The real difficulty had been getting in on one that was taking place near the building I was trying to watch. The thickly built man across from me scowled down at the misbehaving dice. I marked him for a sailor by the thick layer of callouses on his hands. Likely on, oh what did they call it? Darting a quick look at the guarded door across and down the street, I asked my opponent, “What’s the term for the short break sailors take between trips?”

“Expensive.” He growled out, before scooping up the dice and thrusting them at me.

I blinked, then let out a laugh despite the grim presence I was attempting. His chapped lips curled up with smug pleasure at his wit. I took the dice from him and after a shake of my hand, let them bound across the metal plate we were using for a makeshift table. The bleached bones bounced across the rusty surface. Six, one marks. I scowled at the ominous outcome. Not a bad roll and likely winning. If you were of a superstitious nature however, the roll foretold death, doom, or a grim fate. Usually, the roller’s own. I looked across the board into the pitying leathery brown eyes of my opponent. He was of the superstitious type, I guessed.

He sorrowfully shook his head, sending the braids of his beard into motion. “That’s a Gutter full of luck. No harm if you want to walk after that roll.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Might as well finish the game.” I smirked at him, “at least it will be a nice tip for the reaper.”

He bared his teeth in a grin and let out a bellow of a laugh. “That’s the right attitude girl! Live to the last and meet the end with a kick!”

I checked the situation across the street. I had a dark feeling that was exactly what I was doing. As I’d been told, the building stood a block back from the docks. Even on the tavern porch where we sat, I could still feel, and smell, the sea breeze coming in off the ocean. We continued to dice a while longer. Besides buying time, I wanted to make sure I understood the typical procedure required to enter the building. My opponent didn’t mind. Why would he when I was purposely losing two times out of every three. Eventually I feigned my disappointment and grumbled a thinly veiled excuse to leave. Hopefully by now Sedna had found Wynter, or at least some Gentry. I boldly approached the two mercs standing sentry outside the building’s doors. I had a brief story prepared if I was stopped, but I just had to flash the punch key and they waved me through, both wearing a slightly bored expression. Having magical or mechanical security was all well and good, however neither could fully compensate for the lack of decent guards. They really should have hired a higher class of mercenary. Right inside the entryway, rows of lockers lined one wall. Each had a punched metal name tag. Not wanting to arouse suspicion while in sight of the mercs, I walked down them until I found the one labeled Vyne and popped open the door. A high quality leather apron and gloves were hung inside. I fingered the apron, it had a name tag so it might help me blend in. I slipped the apron and gloves on and looked around for my way up. Thankfully, the lift inside was clearly marked, and as instructed I slid the punch key in the slot beside the lift doors. There was the faint sound of gears and the doors jolted into motion, gliding apart. I was slightly startled to see another mercenary inside the lift box, but I calmly exchanged a nod with him and said, “To,” I stopped myself at the last second from saying ‘the labs’. Instead, following an idea that had just flared to life I finished with, “storage please.”

“Yes ma’am.” He turned a crank and gripped a lever, pulling it all the way back before thrusting it forward. The lift shuddered into motion and began to rise. It was faster than the level lift, but shook about and shuddered alarmingly all the way up. I subtly moved a hand to steady the contents of my pocket. The lift jolted to a halt and the doors sprang apart. I strode out of the elevator with confidence, acting like I knew where I was going. The hallway unfortunately split in three directions from the lift. With the merc watching from the elevator I was forced to make a split second decision. I chose left on a whim. A little further on, the hallway turned, and my only choices were to enter a door labelled ‘Bulk Material’ or to follow the hall to the right. I marked the door in my mind, but strode past it down the corridor, faking a facade of surety. I passed another two doorways on my left. Neither looked like they led to what I was looking for. The next door on the right though, had a very promising designation. A sign with blocky indented letters, proclaimed it to be cold storage. The perfect place for all sorts of things to go wrong. If I could find some suitable compounds in here, I should be able to rig up a nice little diversion to cover our tracks and distract the mercs as we made our getaway. Fingers crossed I slid the punch key from my pocket and into the slot beside the door. I held my breath for a few tense moments as the faint sound of gears came from behind the wall. I let out a breath of silent appreciation when the door clicked and popped open. A cold draft flowed from the hair thin gap. Opening the thick door just enough to slip inside, I gingerly shut it most of the way closed behind me, pausing just before it closed all the way. Checking the wall beside the door frame I was relieved to see there was another slot on this side of the door. Hesitantly I pulled the door closed, then immediately inserted the key and tried to open it again. I had already guessed it would, but still I felt a wave of relief when the gears clicked over the punch key and the door popped open again. Shutting it once again and reassured I could get out, I turned to get a better look at the room. Frost coated the faintly lit room in patches. It was roughly about the size of my shop, maybe slightly larger. The dim light came from two sources, the first was a metal lantern, hanging in the middle of the room. The second, was a large glass cylinder of a glowing green substance, directly opposite me, on the far side of the oversized ice box. Between the two of them they cast enough light to just barely illuminate the corners of the room. The glowing cylinder had a multitude of exposed gears attached to it. Their whirring and clicking was the only sound in the room apart from my own breathing. To my left was six or seven rows of upright shelving units. I smiled to myself. Hopefully, they had a good selection of temperamental compounds. Not wanting to be caught lurking in here, I just did a quick walk down the first aisle. It was what I had expected, rows of vials containing standard ingredients and compounds commonly used in alchemy. I quickly walked down the left wall then back to the center of the room. The right side of the room, as I’d glimpsed upon entering, was dominated by three large cylindrical vats, elevated on thick metal stands. Right next to them was a small closet, in the corner near the glowing cylinder, partitioned off from the rest of the space. Assuaging my curiosity, I opened the closet door. Crisp, freezing air, much colder than the room itself, billowed out and I felt the temperature around me drop rapidly. My shadow obscured the contents of the room, so I stepped to one side. It took my mind a moment to sort out the horrific sight the pale blue light revealed. Two bodies hung by their feet. They were headless and were impaled on hooks set into the ceiling. My gut clenched and I had to tighten my throat muscles to keep from puking. Averting my gaze, I managed to fight the reflex back down. It wasn’t really anything I hadn’t seen before. Blood and dead bodies were a grim constant in my life. One of the few. There was no smell. None of the stench that usually accompanied cadavers. They must have been frozen shortly after they were killed. I didn’t really want to look again, but professional curiosity forced me to. The corpses had been surgically split open. A long slash ran from their groin to throat, with two perpendicular slashes, across the hips and chest. The majority of the flesh between had been cut away. Inside, the bones had been trimmed and the organs removed. My hand flew up to cover my mouth. I squatted to look at their necks and my gut roiled again. Just what had the people working here been trying to accomplish? Why keep the bodies if an autopsy had already been conducted? This had nothing to do with any alchemy I’d ever heard of. There were certain, barbaric, formulas that called for blood, bone, organs, or skin. Most modern Alchemists, however, knew that such ingredients could be substituted with the right combination of compounds. Except for direct targeting ingredients of course, but that didn’t explain why one would keep the body after using said macabre elements. What kind of research, or magic, could require this frozen refuse? My eyes had involuntarily shut, however I forced myself to look one more time. It wasn’t as bad the third time, my eyes skipped over the gaping cavities, focusing instead on the stump of their necks and their limbs. As I feared and anticipated, they were encircled by bands of shiny scarred skin. The kind that comes from wearing metal bindings over a long period. Who ever they’d been, they certainly hadn’t volunteered for this. The well of hatred within me bucked against its bindings. As I fought to quiet it, past and present merged. For a moment I could feel the haunting pain of collars and cuffs encircling my own flesh. Ghostly, incoherent whispers rose all around me. I ignored them and focused. Clearing my mind of the putrid and vile memories that threatened to drown out reality. I spent longer than I should have, subduing the oozing memories in my mind. I managed to lock everything down, but I still kept my gaze on the icy floor as I slammed the door shut. Only then did I raise my eyes. Calling forth my merchant’s mask for good measure, I pushed myself away from the grisly meat locker. My lips quivered as I pressed them into a grim line. My first step was shaky. The next a little less so. My fifth step brought me to the front of the third vat, the one farthest from the main door. With a quick search, I found the label, neatly printed on a metal plaque. Marine Acid Air. I moved to the next. I didn’t have a firm idea of what I was looking for, but I knew I want to cause panic. Panic and harm. Captives aside, no one in this building was innocent. Fire, gas clouds or just shear destruction were all good by me. No one would notice two women in a sea of chaos. Finding the middle vat’s label, I saw that this one was filled with Oil of Vitriol. I moved to the final one, closest to the door I’d entered through. Aqua Fortis. My smile transformed into a vicious caricature of its former self. This would do nicely. Noticing the chill that was beginning to creep under my skin I moved quickly down the aisles on the other side of the room, searching. Down the fourth aisle I found the last ingredient I required. Taking the large bottle marked ‘Oil of Lead Fume’ off the shelf and over to the vats, I went back to the shelves at the back of the room. Here, several empty glass canisters of various sizes were stored in neat rows. After a brief moment of consideration, I made two trips, carrying the four largest back. The spigot on the vat of Oil of Vitriol was circular and the locking mechanism was two handles on either side, facing opposite ways. After placing the first empty canister under the spigot, I set my shoulders and pulled one handle while pushing on the other. Frozen stiff, I couldn’t even get them to budge. Striding over to the shelves again, I held up a finger to guide my eyes and looked over my options. In the middle of the third shelf, I found a glass jar with a compound that would help. Moving quickly back over to the vat, I gingerly sprinkled the substance around the circular lid and on the handle joints. The burnt lime flared upon contact with the frost that coated the metal vat. Setting the small jar on the floor, I tried the handles again. They were still stiff yet, with a crack, this time they gave, and the safety lock disengaged, popping open. Unfortunately, the main door to the cold storage room did as well. My head snapped up and I watched in dismay as the door swung wide open to admit a man wearing a coat with an apron. Our gazes met.

“Something wrong with the vat?” He asked derisively. His boots rang out as he crossed the metal floor, coming closer as the door clicked shut behind him.

I answered in my meekest voice. “No, I’m just balancing this batch.” I reached for the orb and vial in my pocket, setting them beside the open jar of burnt lime, before picking up the jar itself. “Just finishing up.”

Coming to stand near the vat, he huffed arrogantly. “You know I sometimes wonder where they find you new hires. I just checked the balance yesterday.” He said, curiously toeing one of the empty canisters.

“Yesterday?”

“Yes,” he said waving his hand, “do you have a hearing problem? What’s all this for?”

I kept my smiling merchant’s mask and gave him a slight bow. “Testing and batching.”

He moved around the canisters sitting at the base of the vat. His eyes perused over my body before resting on my face. “When did you start working here?”

I could have lied. Spun a tale. Yet, after seeing the contents of the closet, I didn’t feel like talking my way out of this situation. I wanted, no I needed to cause something pain. I needed to hurt someone and even if this person wasn’t the one personally responsible, he was involved. That was enough for me. So, I took a step toward him, opening my mouth as if to reply and thrust the jar of burnt lime in his direction. The powdery substance flew out of the jar into his face. His startled curse quickly turned into a shocked scream. I shoved up my sleeve, drawing my wrist knife. Closing the distance between us I leapt up, wrapping my legs about his waist. My added weight sent him off balance. I positioned the knife above his chest with both hands and together we crashed to the floor. Between the impact and my thrust, the knife sank up to its hilt. I hopped off his writhing body and slid around so that I was behind his head before grabbing the shoulders of his coat with both hands. His added height and bulk made it hard to drag him, but with short jolting tugs I was able to get his head beneath the spigot of the middle vat. With malicious anticipation, I turned the spigot handle. With the safety lock disengaged it turned easily, letting the clear liquid splash over his face and mouth. On its own, Oil of Vitriol is not kind to any living tissue. A fresh coating of burnt lime didn’t help his situation either. Almost as soon as it hit him, steam began to rise. His screaming was soon reduced to naught more than a gurgling moan as the oil dissolved his flesh. Shutting the spigot off, I leaned against the vat and caught my breath. His upper body still steaming, I grabbed his feet and dragged his body behind the vat, out of immediate sight. Crouching at his side, I gingerly withdrew my knife. Some blood weakly spurted out. Taking a small step back and rising as I did, I waited for the surge of adrenaline to calm. Breath in, breath out. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. I repeated the mantra in my mind several times until I felt centered. After I cleaned the blade on his tunic, I slipped the knife back into its sheath. With one last satisfied glance at the corpse, I moved back to the front of the vat. One by one I filled each of the canisters to almost the halfway point before I moved over to the vat of Aqua Fortis. Thankfully, it’s safety lock wasn’t frozen, as I’d spilt all the burnt lime in my improvised ambush. I dragged each glass canister under the spigot, until all were filled with equal measures of Aqua Fortis and Oil of Vitriol. Using a glass rod, that I’d found with the empty canisters, I gently decanted a small amount of Oil of Lead Fume into each container. Using some wire, a metal bar, my vial of etching acid and the orb of fulminating quicksilver, I rigged an improvised time delay ignition. In about an hour the metal bar would be eaten through causing the orb to fall. It’s violent impact with the floor should be enough to set it off. This in turn would cause the mixture in the canisters to explode. Using the spigot of the middle vat as a stepping stool I carefully hung my contraption from the top of the vat. Almost as an after thought, I used the leftover wire to sabotage the gears near the glowing cylinder. An educated guess led me to believe the device was what kept this room cold. My little surprise set, I hurried from the room and followed the hall back to the lift. It was almost too easy. I just asked the merc for the ‘lab’ this time and up we went. The level I stepped out onto, was like the one I’d just left. Shining metal tile floors, with copper and brass panels on the wall. According to the map Sedna had shown me, the place they were keeping Tia would be down the central branch on this level, on the other side of the building. Trying not to run with my haste, I strode past several open doorways that had voices drifting from them. Claws of apprehension tore into my chest. While my boots beat a deceptively slow rhythm on the metal tile floor, my heart thundered like an out of control piston. My mind barely registered the nametags bolted on the wall beside each door I passed. I rocked back and dodged to the side as a frazzled looking red haired woman stepped out of a doorway, right in front of me. She wore the same outfit as the guy I’d just silenced. We stared at each other in mild shock for a moment. She recovered first, her mouth turning down in annoyance. “Watch where you’re going, what if I’d been carrying a tray of vials?”

I bobbed my head in apology and made to move around her, but she reached out and grabbed my sleeve. “Hold up, have you seen the Cleric?”

Ice rushed my veins. So a cleric was involved after all. Not that I’d really doubted Jack, but the confirmation was welcome. It fortified my belief that I could, to a degree, trust the man. I’d have to make sure to avoid the clerics for now though. Especially if one of them really was… Even if it was another monster with the same name, running into them could throw a gigantic wrench into everything. “Uh, no.” I shook my head. “They’re, not in their office?”

She gestured behind herself, “Are you blind? She’s not in there. Where are you coming from… Alchemist Vyne?” She said, after pausing to read my name tag.

I grabbed a room name from my memory of the floor below at random, “Bulk Storage 3C. I didn’t see her on my way up if that helps.”

She frowned and gave a small shake of her head. “Typical cleric. How can they expect on time results, if their idea of cooperation is yelling at us to hurry up, then disappearing when we’re ready for their part?”

I nodded along in sage agreement.

She sighed, “if you see her, please inform her that we’re ready for her in laboratory 2F?”

“Sure thing.” I said with a smile. Now run along, I thought to myself, conscious of the limited time that was slipping through my fingers. She nodded at that, then without another word, turned and abruptly walked quickly past me, back the way I’d come, sticking her head in every doorway she passed. I waited a heartbeat, and, making sure she wouldn’t see me, stepped into the Cleric’s office. So kind of her to have pointed it out to me. I knew I’d told Sedna it’d be a straight in and out. I also knew that the distraction I’d set was creeping closer, one drop of etching fluid at a time, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t immediately explain what use snooping in the Cleric’s office served, but I was sure I’d come up with some excuse for my rampant curiosity later. The room was large for an office, a wide metal desk sat in the center, a chair behind it and two in front. Etching sheet cabinets lined the wall to my left and a small bookcase sat along the wall to my right. Half closing the door behind me I moved around the desk to study the sheets of metal sprawled across it. Inventory, a list of suppliers, a report on something called STB Trial Thirty One and what appeared to be a formal complaint of working conditions. I briefly perused each but saw nothing that stuck out as strange. Even STB Trial Thirty One was nothing out of the ordinary, it just detailed the use of something abbreviated ‘GD’ to act as a catalyzing agent. There were no specifics on what they were trying to catalyze or what GD was. I quickly opened the desk drawers, but they mostly contained spare etching sheets and etching acid. The lower drawer on the right hand side was locked, but while it might have something worth while in it, I didn’t have the key and wasn’t about to waste time trying to force it open. I made a mental note to take up lockpicking in the future. I moved over to the bookshelf and ran a finger over their glinting spines. Most of the books were on the basics of alchemy. I grinned to myself. If this Cleric was anything like Dathu, it must really stick in her caw that she had to brush up on such a ‘lowly’ art. The one title that did stand out to me was a copy of the Monarchia Daimonum. Odd book for a cleric to have on her bookshelf, especially considering the Church’s hatred of anything from another universe. I strode across the room to search the cabinets. Each drawer was labelled thankfully but unfortunately most were unremarkable. There were two whole cabinets dedicated to inventory and while there might be crumbs of a clue somewhere in there, I didn’t have the time to sift through the sheets to find them. The next cabinet was dedicated to trial results. Checking the labels, I found the latest trials where in the top drawer. I opened it up and pulled the first sheet. Ataegina Procedure LS Trial Fourteen was the large etched title. As I skimmed down the metal sheet, I frowned as I realized LS stood for Live Specimen. Then my frowned deepened into a scowl. Was this report a hoax? Apparently, the purpose of these trials was to force mutation. The author called it evolution, but mutation better fit what was described. That wasn’t the unbelievable part however. The report began by detailing the use of a daimon. They weren’t seriously involving an actual daimon, were they? Remembering what Gentleman Jack had said, horror washed over me as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. The report went on to confirm the unsettling conjecture I’d just put together. The being was apparently used for binding the magic of the live specimens. If a daimon could bind a magic user like Those Above… This was how they’d planned to bind Atabey, Sedna and Tia, who must have been slated for use as ‘Live Specimens’. I shook my head and continued reading the report looking for more answers. In the recorded trial, after being bound by the Daimon, the live specimens where injected and dosed with a variety of substances. Some I recognized as alchemical compounds, among them Solaris Sudor, Stella Hyle, and Aqua Luna. Their grouping didn’t make sense though, as they were uncommon to see together for a good reason. They didn’t play nice with each other. Then there were several substances I didn’t recognize and another mention of the acronym GD, the catalyst from that other etching I’d just read. If I was interpreting it correctly, alchemy was only part of the process, once all the substances had been applied the next stage called for magical manipulation of the subject’s body. My frown deepened to a hissing grimace as I read what happened next. A horrific summary of the immediate effects made me pale. A cold notation theorized that the pain the procedure inflicted could be connected to the high rate of insanity in the survivors. A distinction was made with the term, ‘unsuccessful survivors’. There were no numbers on the report I held, but I got the feeling that the procedure currently had an uncomfortably low rate of survival. With a significantly lower number of successful trials. The report I was reading through now though, detailed a rare successful survivor. The back side of the etching sheet listed the numerous tests conducted post procedure. Putting together the observations and notations gave me a shocking portrait of the procedure’s results. The subject reportedly gained a notable increase to their magical, mental, and physical abilities. If they could be controlled, the successful products would be terrifying living weapons. There were negative side effects though. In moments of heightened emotional stress, the subject mentally deteriorated into a savage animalistic state. This reportedly made them hard to control. To manage. To use. To abuse. There was a screech of metal bending and I blinked, not realising I had drifted from the present moment. The etching sheet I was holding was almost bent in half. Considering how I wouldn’t mess it up any more than I already had, I set it on the desk. Using both hands and my body weight, I finished folding it in half. Sticking the report in my coat pocket, I quickly checked the labels on the last cabinet. These were labelled Gullveig Decoction Trials. Logically GD from the report. Excited I pulled on the top drawer. Unfortunately, I found it to be locked tight. Again, I could have maybe pried it open with one of my blades or used some of that etching acid from the desk, but both methods would take time I didn’t have. So I chose to get on with my true purpose for being here. Taking a quick peek to make sure the coast was clear, I slipped back into the hall. Not far from the Cleric’s office, the hallway ended with a double door. I cocked my head in consideration as I walked toward it. It really didn’t look like a prison entrance. I had been expecting a single heavy steel door, or barred gate. I had also been expecting it to be open like Sedna said. Oddly enough, I couldn’t see a punch key slot to the side. Hopefully, these doors were at least unlocked, or I’d need to change my plans in a hurry. Being in clear view of anyone using the hall, I couldn’t exactly use any of my usual methods either. Lockpicking lessons were looking more and more valuable. The double doors resembled all the other doors I’d passed on this floor, but the windows had been covered over with metal plates. With a quick look behind me, I approached and pressed my ear against the cold metal. I waited a few tense heartbeats but heard nothing on the other side. Reaching out for one of the handles, I slowly twisted it. I breathed out a sigh of relief when there was a click and the door swung in a hair. Gently I cracked the door open and stuck my head in. I caught just a glimpse of a large room before an astounding pain exploded on the left side of my face and I tumbled into the abyss of unconsciousness.

Chapter 32

I awoke to arguing voices and a pounding headache. A newly formed lump pulled at my scalp. I tried to raise my left hand to touch the sore spot. Only to find it restrained. After testing my right arm and finding it similarly bound, I blearily tried to open my eyes. Something thick pressed on my left eye, preventing it from opening more than a crack, but I managed to open the other. The large room I’d caught just a glimpse of, before getting clobbered, slowly swam into focus. Rather than a prison, the space appeared to be the bastard child of a medical operating room and a droolworthy alchemy lab. My current predicament didn’t dampen my greedy envy. They had every tool, apparatus and what looked like walls of ingredients. A circular arrangement took up most of the center of the room. My good eye was drawn to it like iron to a lodestone. I’d never seen one in person, but a summoning circle was distinctive. Twelve waist high stone blocks covered with magic script, stood in a circle. Between them ran lines of more script. The stones surrounded a large circle of peach colored metal inlaid in the floor. Bounded in that and constructed of the same metal was an eight pointed star. My indomitably analytical mind put daimon and summon together and estimated that the peach rose metal was likely orichalcum. A fairly common ore that was expensive only because of how illegal it was. I scoffed in my head. Not that someone summoning a daimon to bind unwilling magic users would be overly concerned with legalities. Voices brought my attention away from the circle, to the pair standing off to one side of the room. One was a female Cleric, easy to identify from her coat and annoying tone of superiority. The other… I snarled. The other was Erheer. They must have heard me because the Cleric turned her head my way as she imperiously brought her hand up. The gesture abruptly silenced Erheer. My eye drifted closed of its own accord and when I fought it open again the Cleric stood in front of me. A serene smile stretched across her face.

“Oh, you’re awake already. I’m afraid we are still waiting on a few latecomers. You may relax while we wait.” She sounded downright cordial.

“That’s, okay. Take your time.” I grated out, a cold weight settling in my stomach. If I was still alive then I’d been selected as part of her ‘research’. Perhaps for the final time, I affixed my merchants mask to my face. It was a bit of a struggle. I thought back to the report. I really didn’t feel like suffering through all that. She was already turning away when my words made her pause. “If I may though, one academic to another, I don’t believe I fit your specimen profile very well.” I tried to shrug but the bindings muddled the gesture. “Putting me through your Ataegina Procedure may be a waste of time and resources.” I wasn’t silly enough to ask to be let go or even offer to work for her. It was only common sense not to trust an Alchemist under duress. “Simply killing me may be, the better option.”

Her eyebrows rose. “What an atypical suggestion.” The Cleric took a step back toward me. “Most specimens go with pleading to be released, or threats of retribution.”

“I could do both, but I prefer not to waste my breath. Let’s be honest, such things would only be a waste of your time and mine.” I didn’t want to die. It was, however, preferable to being put through the agony, and then dying anyway. The hope that Wynter would show up in time to save me was whisper thin and fading quickly.

Her eyes softened and her mouth turned down. “It’s not that you don’t have a point dear. Still, supply of usable test subjects for my research, is so scarce that even an inferior one like yourself must be utilized. The data, you understand.” Something had passed between us with those words. A shared understanding. Dissimilar goals, conflicting views, and drastically different beliefs to be assured, but the both of us were equally pragmatic. Intellectual predators hiding beneath masks of civility. I was left with the grim task of accepting that no words of mine would sway the Cleric from her path. She was, like me, addicted to her work. She looked over to Erheer and then back to me. “From the etching sheet we found in your pocket, I take it you’ve learned a little of my work here?”

Her words brought my attention that my gloves, sheathes and apron had been removed. “A little. It’s ambitious and dangerous. The legalities aside,” I looked to the summoning circle, “dealing with daimons is, legendarily perilous.” And I was really hoping she would have the opportunity to learn that the hard way someday. “The fruit of your successful trials however,” As much as I didn’t want to praise the seemingly inevitable mechanism of my death, I found it hard not to sound fascinated, “are undeniably ground breaking.” Spells and potions could only offer temporary augmentations to physical attributes. Enchanted magical items, while long lasting, were too expensive to manufacture in great quantities. Also, neither spells, potions nor enchanted items could increase a person’s magical ability like this process reportedly could. Despite the high risk of being a terrifying metaphorical re-enactment of the Maw Collapse, this Ataegina process was indisputably genius. I told her as much, not to curry favor, but merely in simple honesty.

Her face brightened. “Thank you! I have spent years to get this far but the results have been most cathartic.” She looked over her shoulder. “As for the daimon component. I’ve taken precautions and the powers Those Above have granted me, add an extra layer of protection.”

“I simply must ask, how are they with all,” I rotated my head in lieu of a hand gesture, “this. Those Above, that is.”

Her lips and cheeks stretched wide as she leaned in toward me. “You may not believe it, but our vaunted deities are amazingly lax in their oversight of their gifts.” She turned contemplative and I got the feeling she’d drifted into her own mind as I sometimes did. “That or they actually condone everything I’ve done. They couldn’t have need for such a force though, could they? If that were the case…” She shook herself and focused on me again. “A thought for another time.” She looked over to where Erheer was resting his hip on a workbench. “Citizen Erheer, would you please go see what’s taking them so long?” She said it nicely enough, but it was still unmistakably a command.

If he chaffed at being ordered about, he kept it from showing. “Once I round them all up for you Cleric Etana, will you have any further need of my services today?” The corners of his smile flattened. “If its all the same to you, I’d rather not stick around for the,” he looked off somewhere behind me, “festivities.”

“Nothing worse than some of your own hobbies Erheer,” the Cleric chided, “but no, we won’t have any further use for you today.” He bowed low, the genuflection went unnoticed by the Cleric however, who had, it seemed, already dismissed him from her mind. The Cleric fetched a stool as Erheer departed the room, bringing it over so she could sit in front of me. “Shall we pass the time with some conversation while we wait for the others to join us? I’ve been told that you are a capable alchemist, and you seem to be much more,” she made a small hand gesture, “amicable than most of my specimens. This may be a rare chance for me to collect more accurate observations, straight from the specimen. I don’t think I need to tell you how valuable that is.”

I nodded, not quite sure what to say. It was better than awkward silence at least. Who knew, if I could get her engaged in conversation, I might buy enough time for Wynter to reach me. Or for my little surprise to go off. This was my week for encountering wild impossibilities.

“Excellent! I must say, the first topic I’d like to ask you about, is one that has been burning in my mind for a few years now. Your former mentor, Alchemist Krutov, what do you know of his death?”

Merchant’s mask secured firmly in place, I shook my head slightly. “I’m afraid its not much more than what his obituary stated. I understand an explosion happened while he was at his lab, his official one that is, and he was declared dead upon discovery.” I let my genuine curiosity show in my eyes. “Why do you ask?”

She laced her fingers, resting them on a crossed knee. “That’s not quite an accurate accounting. He actually died in this building. Just three floors down from where we are now in fact.”

I couldn’t say it was surprising, I’d been wondering since his secret lab had been discovered, why he hadn’t been found in there. “You moved the remains back to his official laboratory and set off a second explosion to cover it. That smart.” I gave her a smirk. “For an alchemist, death by explosion is a conveniently believable cover.”

She chuckled. “Indeed. I can’t take the credit for it, however. Citizen Erheer sees to most of our, clean up.” I wondered if he had ‘cleaned up’ Krutov’s secret lab too.

“And what about… where’s your other partner? The other cleric?”

She raised an eyebrow and quirked her mouth. “Has someone been spilling secrets? Farrow? He’s away for the moment. Dealing with, other matters. Not to worry though dear, I’m fully capable of preforming the procedure without his assistance.” Her tone made it seem like there may be a bit of tension regarding that matter. When she continued however, her voice had reset to that creepy serene cheer with just a hint of hungry curiosity. She asked, “Did you know anything about the substance he was working on before his untimely passing?”

I let my brow furrow. “Is that the ‘GD’ or Gullveig Decoction catalyst? I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it before, yet it would make sense that it would be a highly reactive substance.” I forced a laugh. “Can’t say I’m not glad that we parted ways before that happened.”

The Cleric grinned slightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Mhmmh. No, the Gullveig Decoction was developed later, I was referring to another alchemical creation that Alchemist Krutov brought in himself.” She quirked her mouth. “A most extraordinary substance, that was unfortunately lost along with your mentor.” She gave me a hard look. “Have you ever encountered a gel like material that could artificially store magic outside of a living body?”

Manufacturing an appropriate reaction, took me a moment. I hoped she’d mistake my hesitation for shock. I went for something between hungry curiosity and incredulous disbelief. “That shouldn’t be possible. You interacted with this substance yourself?” If I had to die here, I’d take the secret of Alcgel to my grave with me. Raina knew what to do if I ever disappeared for too long. I certainly wouldn’t be as sloppy as my old mentor and let the Church find all my secrets.

“Yes, briefly. Enough to confirm it’s existence and extraordinary function.” I had to repress the impulse to puff myself up a little. Like it was my child, I couldn’t help but feel a little proud at the praise. “Unfortunately, all the samples were lost alongside Alchemist Krutov. A pity you didn’t know more about it,” she dusted some imaginary lint off her coat, “I might have judged that reason enough to spare you.” A temporary delay of sentence at best. When I gave her a helpless look, she shrugged. “No matter. Perhaps that mystery will resolve itself when we reclaim your unaccredited peer.” I could almost feel her trying to read me. “Citizen Valetin. You wouldn’t happen to know where he disappeared to would you?”

I didn’t even have to lie this time. “No idea where he’s gone now. I’m afraid my blunt questions scared him into hiding.”

“Hm. I’m sure Citizen Erheer will find the rock he’s hid under sooner or later. He’s quite talented at that sort of thing. While we’re on the topic of the missing, what ever happened to my other specimen that escaped? The one that wasn’t recovered.” I couldn’t stop my hand from twitching in it’s restraints. Had she not been informed of Sedna’s escape? Was Erheer or another employee trying to recover Sedna before the Cleric found out about the mistake? “Haven’t seen her either, she took off on her own. Not long after your people took her friends from my store.”

As I imagined I might look if I ever dropped my merchant’s mask in front of someone, the Cleric’s face went flat. The slight hint of cheer vanished, leaving an emotionless wasteland behind. I guess we were done with the polite pretense.

“You disappoint me Alchemist Vaeronica. It is a rare treat indeed to have a private discussion when one of the parties involved knows,” she slapped a palm over her heart, “at their intrinsic core, that they will die soon.” Her words grew heated. “There is, one would think, an unspoken agreement of honesty during the proceedings!” She stood quickly, overturning the stool, and stomped away. “Perhaps I extended you too much respect.”

I gaped after her. Was she actually getting upset that I’d been lying to her? I was too flummoxed to laugh. My humor withered when I saw her returning with a large lancet gripped in her hand. “Physical torture has a low rate of true success despite what you may have heard.”

She seemed to have run out of false smiles to give. “I am well aware.” I flinched as the blade flashed in front of my face. She pulled my shirt out from my chest and cut it open down the front, stopping only when the restraint at my waist prevented her from continuing. “Thankfully,” I hissed as she quickly scored a circle into my sternum, just below my breasts, “Those Above have given me a more effective alternative.”

Scheisse. The method of magical expression was different, but I had I good idea what she had in mind. I’d been subjugated to truth magic once before. Hopefully this Cleric found it as difficult as the last had. The Cleric invoked Those Above, asking for them and the Ma’at to grant her request for aid in her hunt for truth. I felt the magic take hold. It felt like the Gutter had been redirected into my bones, heart and mind.

“Now let me ask you again. Vaeronica. The substance your mentor brought to me, the artificial vessel for storing raw magic. What do you know of it?”

I tried to keep my mouth closed. I’d have had more luck wrestling a dire beast. The words were ripped from me. The little direction I had, didn’t give me enough wiggle room to avoid spilling the truth. “I created it. It’s named Alcgel. It stores magic.”

I could almost see my distress in her eyes. And it pleased her. She was enjoying this. “How did you discover it?”

“Invented from scratch. Trial and error.”

“Be proud Alchemist, you engineered a true, new and unique magnum opus before your death. There are those who have lived a thousand of your lifetimes and not come near to such glory.” She sounded as if she was sincerely impressed. If only she knew that my Alcgel had been only the beginning. Her head tilted slightly, freeing a few brilliant red hairs from where they were bound behind the Clerics neck. “How did Alchemist Krutov come by it?”

“I traded it. Alcgel for graduation.” A snarl broke through my merchant’s mask as the spell once more overrode my will.

“Vaeronica, did you kill Alchemist Krutov?”

There was enough ambiguity in the truth of the matter for me to answer, “No.” She would get the truth to every question. The magic was infallible that way. Yet, like the cleric before her, she didn’t seem to be grasping the inherent flaw that came with that. If the interrogator didn’t know what questions to ask, the subject could conceal all manner of secrets.

She seemed to chew on that for a moment. I couldn’t discern if her interest was only curiosity, or if there had been some emotional attachment between her and my former mentor. I suspected that despite my subversively truthful answer, she’d caught the scent of my sedition. “Did you have a hand in his accident?”

I tried to focus on the specific wording. Tried to force a literal interpretation of ‘hand’, rather than the metaphorical one. The root of magic is intent however. The word, “Yes,” was torn from me. It was breathy, barely more than a whisper. All the same, the secret was stolen from me.

“How.” She commanded. She pressed herself closer. “How did you kill him?”

“Alchemist under duress. Never trust one.” I bared my teeth. I’d known Krutov wouldn’t be satisfied with what I’d given him. Our positions reversed, I wouldn’t have either. I would want to understand. I’d need to. “Altered second vial.” In the darkness of my sanctuary, I’d constructed a murderous compound. Highly toxic. Violently explosive. Most importantly, extremely sensitive to light. “Ensured his accident. He deserved it.” Regardless of all the trouble that had followed that choice, I couldn’t honestly say I wouldn’t do it again if given the chance.

“Well, that’s one mystery cleared up.” The Cleric frowned. She looked down at her hand then back into my eyes. “What are you doing?”

She must have finally noticed how hard she was sweating. “Being magically questioned.” I gave her a sunny smile.

“Not that.” She tried again, which made her smarter than the last cleric who questioned me this way. “Why is my spell taking so much magic to maintain?”

“I don’t know.” That was one truth I had no problem admitting. “Magic is weird. I react weirdly.”

“How curious and inconvenient. Now I’m even more intrigued to see how you react to my Ataegina procedure.” She stopped the spell and withdrew her hand. “While you will have to be recognized as an outlier, you’ll make a fascinating case study.”

A large breath rushed out of me, leaving my chest heaving as I panted. Despite the futility, I’d kept my body tensed through the questioning. A few of my limbs twitched as they relaxed and settled. With reflection, I got off lucky. “You could always try to pull the recipe for Alcgel out of me with that magic.”

She sneered and I couldn’t blame her. The suggestion had been an insult to her intelligence. “As you said Vaeronica. Alchemist under duress, never trust one.” She looked down at her slightly bloody hand, flexing it. “I can’t say I’m not tempted despite the risk.”

The look she aimed my way was filled with greed and honestly a little frightening. Or maybe that was just the inevitability of my situation finally sinking in. Hope still plagued me though. Wynter or an explosion, one or the other might still give me an out.

“Who knows, Alchemist Vaeronica. You might yet survive to be of great use to me.”

Not if I could help it. I began grinding and rubbing my bare wrists on their restraints. Hard. The doors I’d been ambushed from banged open. I guess I couldn’t honestly say I was overly surprised when I saw that the group coming in included Sedna and Tia. I think part of me had begun to put together the numerous inconsistencies I’d been encountering. Sedna was carrying an unconscious Tia. It looked like Wynter wasn’t coming after all. Besides the two women I’d rescued just days ago, there were four mercs and thirteen other people. Three of them were in rags and were being carried. I guessed that they were to be test subjects too. The other newcomers wore remarkably fine clothing and petulant expressions. Maghs?

“You have her?” Sedna’s voice was tight and unsure. “I did my part, now unbind us and get us on that ship.”

Did Sedna really think… I couldn’t help myself. Despite the grim situation, and the waking lake of fury, I laughed. It was a rough and jagged sound. Sedna gave me a quelling look but quickly turned her attention back to the Cleric. The Cleric’s smile was small, but there in her smoky grey eyes, I saw that gleeful malice I’d seen before. My gaze met hers. I’d still try and kill her if by some miracle I ever got free, but we shared a moment of mental synchronicity. Sedna was just being so moronic and hilariously naive. I pressed my lips together, smothered giggles still slipped through though.

“You have done wonderfully girl.” The Cleric gestured my way, or rather past me. “Now I command you to assist with strapping your little friend and the other specimens in.”

“We had a deal! I did as you asked!” Sedna cried out. She cast a look down at Tia even as she continued to carry her over. “We have families. You made a promise, we’re supposed to be going home!” Contrary to her fury and protests, her feet kept bringing her toward me.

The Cleric was brutally honest. “You have to obey my every command. By what leverage could you compel me to keep my word?”

Sedna’s face emoted her chagrin. She walked briskly behind the Cleric, between her and the upright stones. As she passed in front of me, I could see the streams that ran down her cheeks. Following in her wake and heading to either side of me, the three bearing unconscious bodies walked out of sight to where I could only assume more upright tables stood waiting. The others that had accompanied them in, walked around to stand on the side of the summoning circle opposite me. Sedna kept ranting on for a bit until the Cleric commanded her to be quiet. Seemed like not only could the Cleric bind people to herself, but it was also quite effective. I privately wondered if it still had some wiggle room like the truth spell. One of the elegantly dressed three spoke up, his voice came out in a whiny timber. “Should we move them into position now Cleric Etana?”

The cleric chuckled darkly. “Yes. I’m most eager to get the trials underway.” She looked over at me. “Now that the distractions have been taken care of, we can proceed.”

Chapter 33

They took a vial of blood from me. Then Tia and the three men unfortunate enough to join team specimen. The mercs grunted about, lifting the other tables into my view. Positioning them around the summoning circle about half a meter outside the circle of waist high stones. Task completed, the mercs filed out of the room. Pacing swiftly around, the Cleric set the vials with our blood inside the orichalcum circle. They were spread out the same as our tables. Each vial was aligned with its donor.

Finished, she moved to the stone nearest to me setting a hand on it. “I command you now, kneel before the gate stones and infuse the array with your magic!”

Sedna and the maghs each went to a stone. They chose them in no particular orientation that I could discern. Sedna’s movements were jerky, and her cheeks still shone wetly. As one, they knelt. Bending their heads, their mouths started moving almost silently as they began their casting with whispers. In unison they spread their hands flat and placed them on the stones. It was all more than a little creepy. Then the Cleric began to intone her intent. I didn’t recognize the language. Which was strange. Merely another way to guide the mind, focus one’s intent, the words shouldn’t matter. So why not just use your native tongue? Her free hand cut the air in front of her, creating geometric patterns. I watched with mute dread as the script on all the stones began to glow. The color of the light rose material deepened. Motes of light began to drift up from the perimeter of the circle, like tiny golden embers floating off a fire. Their voices became discordant as they split into separate chants. As if to contrast the bright sparks of light, black wisps of smoke began to rise from between the lines of the star. Except for the very center. There, about a meter off the floor, a red shape coalesced. It hovered over the floor, starting off so faint I had dismissed it as a mirage at first. It looked weirdly like a flower bud. After a few moments, the red smudge started gathering the black smoke to it. The bud began to grow as the filmy blackness layered over the core of red. I could feel something intangible pulling me toward it. Toward the torrent of magic being poured into the working. The whole thing snowballed into an expanding sphere. The Cleric finished the incantation, falling silent and still. The sphere, still growing, began to rotate. It picked up speed until it was spinning like a top. Crimson, the same shade as the Cleric’s hair, or freshly spilt blood, bloomed once more in the center. I caught only glimpses of it through the covering layers of black smoke. The golden wisps rising over the orichalcum circle, began to flow inwards. As if drawn to the sphere. They were not absorbed by the whirling pulsing orb of magic. Instead, they began to swim across its surface before gravitating together to form gyrating rings. Despite it being completely silent, some trick of the mind had me hearing a screaming whine. Like wind chimes in a tornado. The ball of swirling power, now at least two meters in diameter, pulsed once more. Before exploding. Fragments of black, gold, and red magic blasted outwards. I flinched and braced to be hit, but they only went as far as the outer orichalcum circle. They hit the air above that circle as if it were an invisible wall. There they were sucked downwards, into the perimeter of the magic circle. For a heartbeat I thought it might have failed, but a large cracking sound rent the air and suddenly a daimon stood before us. It was nothing like any of the various depictions I’d come across. The being exuded an almost tangible radiance of violence. Their entire body looked like it had been built for physical dominance. Elongated limbs, even more pronounced than the flerae, were dense with harshly defined muscle. Each finger and toe bore a heavy obsidian claw. From the daimon’s back, two enormous and powerful looking avian wings wrapped forward. The shade of their skin was oddly close to my hair color, red so dark it was easy to mistake for black. I only noticed right away because of the contrast provided by the rich crimson of the blood vessels that marbled their body. The daimon stood naked, yet proudly so. Their absence of clothing allowed me to see that they lacked the normal gender indicators. Nothing protruded from between their legs, but they also lacked developed breasts. I was contemplating what method of reproduction such beings might use, when I realized I’d been staring at their groin. Oddly feeling a little flush and embarrassed, my gaze shot up to the daimon’s face. Somewhat fittingly, their facial features were androgynous as well. Long tendrils as black as the wings and thick as my thumb took the place of hair on the daimon’s head. The ends fell, twisting and coiling about their shoulders. Two bulky, bright red antlers rose out of the mass of tendrils, spiking upwards. The tines twisted into eight sharp points about a half a meter above the daimon’s head. The daimon opened its eyes. They were twin pits of black smoke, their darkness harshly contrasted by a glowing red triangle suspended in the center of each. These sharp crimson pupils glowed like niteolux. I instinctively found myself wanting to hide from them. I now holistically understood how our ancestors had mistaken these beings for deities. I wasn’t eager to become a follower. I scraped my wrists harder against the binding metal.

“You once more test your luck and try my patience.” The daimon’s voice rolled out loudly, but far smoother than I had expected. Like audible quicksilver. “When I free myself, I will pulverize the bones in your body into paste. Then I will heal you. Only to repeat the process again, a thousand times over until you are but a gibbering pile of pus and blood.”

My eyes snapped to the Cleric standing off to my left. If that being had said the same to me, I’d be blabbering apologies while quickly leaving to see what the other side of the world looked like. The Cleric however remained wrapped in her arrogance. “Zethirim! I have bound, summoned, and bound thee twice more over. Bound thrice so, you will obey me.” She pointed at the ground in the circle. “At your feet you shall find vials of blood. By my command Zethirim, you shall bind the donors first to yourself and then to me. They are to be bound to follow any command or order given. They are to be bound to not use magic unless given permission first. They are to be bound to not take their own lives or my own.” She raised her finger to point at the daimon. “Now obey daimon Zethirim, child of Vanth the Inevitable!”

The daimon grunted. They turned their scowl from the Cleric, scanning the floor. Their burning eyes locked on the vial of blood to the left of mine. Tia’s. It happened quick. The daimon crouched down in a fluid movement and was standing again in a heartbeat. Like the flick of a hummingbird’s wing. A speed potion might barely put me on the same level. They unsealed the vial of blood and raised it high. Head tipping back, antlers reflecting like gems, Zethirim opened their mouth and spilled the blood into it. The young woman’s lifeblood caught the light as it cascaded past fangs and into the daimon’s mouth. Zethirim straightened their head. Then closed their eyes. Tia all of a sudden woke with a scream. She thrashed for a bit letting out little cries. Wide eyed, Tia took in the new nightmare she’d awakened to. Zethirim paid her no heed, having already moved on to the next vial. I broke out in a cold sweat. I was more scared than I had been since escaping the Church as a child. Seeing the Cleric beginning to set up clamps on the side of the table Tia was strapped to certainly didn’t help. I knew, I was trapped. I knew that the best outcome here was death. Morbidly even that hope seemed slim. How hungry had that batch of acid been? Would the blast even reach us? It was pitiful that being killed by my own handiwork was how I wanted to go out now. Terribly ironic for an alchemist. And disappointing in so many ways. I wouldn’t even get to see Farrow finally killed. My gaze settled on the only Cleric present. I would have to console myself with the fact that I would at least get her. I tore my focus from the Cleric, shifting my eyes to Tia’s fragile form. A barely audible command from the Cleric had stilled her writhing and silenced her moaning. She fearfully watched out the corner of her eye, the apparatuses being settled into place next to her arm. The Cleric maneuvered a long, hinged tube device over Tia’s arm. It clamped onto the forearm like a bracer. On top of the bracer part, a slim open ended cylinder was melded to it with a slide lever with a small perpendicular handle. I saw a flash of gold before the Cleric slipped a vial into the open ended cylinder, then screwed it into place. The Cleric’s long fingers wrapped the handle in a firm grip. She thrust forward and Tia’s mouth shot open. As if she was trying to scream but couldn’t.

“Tia! I want your eyes on me!” I yelled across to her.

Either she didn’t hear me, or her panic was possessing her, because her eyes remained fixed on the Cleric.

The Cleric only shot me an irritated glance before sticking a second needle in Tia’s upper arm. Small quakes rippled through the poor woman’s body, harmonizing with her silent mouthing.

“Tia!” I tried again slightly louder this time. “Tia, I need you to look at me!”

A brief, terrified glance was all I got before her gaze snapped back to the steadily toiling cleric who was sliding a third needle into her.

“Tia!” I tried one last time. She was partly obscured by the Cleric, but I could tell I’d finally caught a hold of her attention. Fear blown pupils locked on mine over the Clerics head. “You’re in pain and there may be more with what comes next, but like all in life, it too shall pass. Past death there is no pain. Your great spirit will be there to greet you too. Of that I have no doubt.” I saw Tia’s head bob and she locked her jaw shut. Keeping my eyes connected with Tia’s, I ignored the Clerics laughter. One last injection and the Cleric took a step back, stilling. I couldn’t see her face at this angle, but I could tell her attention was fixed on Tia. The Cleric was waiting for something. Another scream ruptured the room as the daimon bound another being. This time it had been the person two tables over. One more and then it would be my turn. Trying not to dwell on what would happen then, I returned my focus to Tia. Randomly her mouth would break open. When the pain eclipsed her will, yet she forced it shut each time. Despite her visible attempts to carry her dignity, Tia’s face kept sporadically twisting in agony with growing frequency. I did the only thing I could and held her gaze. Bridging the space between us. Providing what paltry comfort, I could afford her. At the very least she knew she was not alone. Tia’s pulsing, full body twitches gave way to a complete seizure. Apparently the Cleric’s command couldn’t control involuntary reflexes. I didn’t need to see the Cleric’s face to know she was watching every wriggle with rapt attention. Completely enthralled. Tia began to choke. Fighting for small gasps of air. Caught between her need for air and the spasms that wracked her body. She shook and thrashed in the constricting metal restraints. Her tears turned pink and then she was weeping blood. The man next to me cried out. A part of my mind screamed knowing that my time had come. I couldn’t take my eyes off Tia though. Bloody rivulets had begun to flow from her nose, streaming down to her chin where they joined the fluids leaking from her eyes, before spilling from her jaw in a crimson waterfall. Her lips stretched. Rolled back by her now elongating jawbone. She began producing sounds again, only they didn’t sound like hers. Or hume at all for that matter. They were deeper. Hollower. She broke two of the restraints, her entire body shifting grotesquely. At the end, her thrashes became punctuated with the sound of breaking bones. Sickeningly loud in the wake of silence her screams had left. With a few pitiful jerks, her body stilled. Somehow, I knew that it had just become a corpse. As I too, would soon be. Hopefully. I wanted a bright flash. Purifying fire, scourging my skin for a moment before oblivion. I wasted one more precious sliver of time, hoping, praying, willing the floor to buckle upwards from the blast. It didn’t. Deciding this was not something I cared to face sane, I surrendered my fight to the sea of rage inside, letting go just as something strange ripped through my body. Through my blood, bones, and flesh. I perceived the foreign force tearing into my mind before the world blinked out.

Chapter 34

When I began to perceive again, I stood in an abyss. There was the sensation of something under my feet, but in the all encompassing darkness, I couldn’t even see myself. I could hear though. Voices whispering. There one second, gone the next. They tugged weakly at dim memories. Past conversations I’d had. Past conversations I’d felt like I’d had, yet between voices that I didn’t recognize as mine. My level of awareness dove and rose. Like smoke in a sunbeam. At some point, neither now nor then, light bloomed above me. Able to see it now, I found myself standing on a red reflective surface. A robe of the same shade of bright red clothed me. My greatly lengthened hair flowed seamlessly into the red ground. The significantly darker hair looked like it was pooling in an airy cloud on the other side of the reflection. Something that I found mildly disconcerting. However, it didn’t trouble me as much as the shadowy figure that had materialized at my side in the floor’s reflection. It seemed to be formed from the inky smoke my hair ran into. Then I noticed more of them, all around me. How had I not seen them all before? Fighting the fear that begged me not to, I looked up from the reflection and to my side. To where the figures should have stood. Yet I stood alone on this side of the mirror like floor. I looked down again. There were too many shadowy figures to count now. Or at least they wouldn’t stay still long enough for me to do so. They shuffled about in a jumble, vying it seemed, to be closer to me. I grimaced and fought off the chill wiggling up my spine. I walked forward. My reflection followed in perfect synchronicity. The shades didn’t. They fought one another for a moment then dashed forward to crowd around me once more. I turned in a quick pirouette and took off running. Trying to watch for the shades behind be and not watching where I was going, I slammed into something. I let out a cry and collapsed backward, tumbling onto my butt. I glared spitefully at the thing that had hurt me, which turned out to be… A post? I leaned to one side. Not a post. It was an open door frame. Protruding, by itself, from the red floor. Although now that I was studying it closely, I could see that the red floor spilled from it. I ran a hand across the surface under me. It didn’t feel wet or have any give to it. I stood up and had reached out to touch the doorframe, when a bone rattling growl issued from above me. I looked up in time to watch as the two red lights, that had lit the area from above, detached and swooped down toward me. With a cry I threw myself backward. They didn’t hit me though. They instead spun and shrank, becoming the pupils of terrifying eyes. Where I was sure there was nothing before, now stood the daimon Zethirim. Memories exploded through me, and I remembered where I had been before coming... Here. Wherever here was. The daimon seemed even larger than in real life. That could be this odd place or simply the lack of a binding circle between us. I gulped audibly and crawled back another meter before trying to stand. I rose slowly on unsteady legs.

“What are you?” Zethirim’s voice slid over and, disturbingly, through me. More a feeling than a sound.

“I do not know precisely. I never met my parents.” I said, softly.

The daimon approached. It took all my courage, and the knowledge that this wasn’t reality, to stay where I was. Zethirim’s gaze raked my body. “I can’t read you. You are quite unlike the other beings I’ve been binding for that worm in white. Because of that.” They told me, pointing to the ground under my feet.

I risked a look down. What I’d meant to be a quick glance, lingered. A great horde of the shades had gathered under me. They stretched down, their combined mass swirling in the reflection like an inverted tornado. My frantic eyes found the daimon’s burning gaze. We stared at each other for an eternal second. I pointed down, and with a deceptively calm voice, asked. “And just what is,” I looked down and up again, “that?”

Zethirim cocked their head. “You don’t know?” They brought a hand up in a sweeping motion. Gesturing to the alien expanse around us. “This is your mind, child.”

“Child?” I groused half heartedly. This was my mind? Not really how I’d always pictured it. Yet if the daimon wasn’t lying, then there was only one thing the nightmarish and terrible tornado below me could be. My rage. The well of hate the clerics had given me.

“You’ll need to survive your world for a hundred more years before I’d call you anything else.” If I wasn’t mistaken, their words held a hint of humor. “I could though, call you by your name if I knew it.”

My eyes snapped from studying our surrounding, locking back on the daimon. Ancient texts claimed names held power. A paranoid thought rippled in. “Do you need that to bind me?”

Zethirim laughed loudly, the sound sending a strange thrill through my body. “No, child, that was done when I took your blood.” They raised a hand, palm upturned. My robe tightened and became heavier all at once. It pulled and I was sent down to my knees.

Scheisse. Bloody Maw take me. I was bound to a daimon. Somewhat in shock and not seeing any reason not to now, I told Zethirim my name. “Vaeronica. Not the name I was born with, but it’s the one I was given. The only one I know.” I finished helplessly, falling forward on my hands as the shock faded and melancholy took its place.

“Vaeronica.” They said as if testing the sound. “Well, Vaeronica if you survive what’s waiting for you back in the physical world, then I look forward to us getting to know one another. And unraveling this veil of mystery that surrounds you.”

How much worse could this day get? Not only had I been betrayed, captured, and bound to a Maw begotten daimon, but soon I would return to the waking world where yet more pain awaited me. I felt disgustingly impotent. A surge of wrath overcame me. I lashed out. I slammed my fist into the ground. A sharp crack followed. Turns out I shouldn’t have done that. The daimon shouted something as the ground shattered. Countless shards of red flew upwards. A torrent of darkness exploded through the shattered red floor, ripping me upwards with it. I regained consciousness, in the real world this time, and was hit by a strong mix of smells. Iron, offal and strangely enough, citrus. The first thing I saw was Zethirim, smiling across the circle at me. Sound to my immediate right made me twist. Trying to see out the corner of my eye. The Cleric was working beside me, settling clamps to the table. Preparing me. My gaze went to Tia. Or what remained of her. Her malformed corpse hung from the wrecked table to my left. I shoved the sad sight aside and looked at the other tables. The two of the three men hadn’t fared any better than Tia and their twisted remains hung in the metal restraints. Puddles of viscera had formed under them. Maybe, if I had considerable luck, the explosion would kill me in the next few seconds. Before that happened to me. The third table though, didn’t have a body in it. The table itself was bent backward at a queer angle. It was broken in multiple places. All the restraints had been torn asunder too, as if the occupant had ripped themselves free. What term had that report used? Unsuccessful survivor? With the gruesome mutations apparent in the corpses, I shuddered to think what a full transformation looked like. Between the ruined table and mine, another table had been moved in while I was unconscious. Or whatever one called being consciously unconscious. Sedna had been strapped into the new table. She appeared comatose, and… different. Looking past the wet blood that coated her skin, I saw numerous changes to her physical body. She was taller. Her muscles thicker and more pronounced. Her facial features looked bulkier too. A needle went into my forearm pulling my attention back to the Cleric at my side. Our eyes met.

“Ready?’’ She asked with a smile.

The explosion swallowed my reply.

Chapter 35

Blazing pain blossomed in my mind exploding through me in a heartbeat. Its fury brought me back to consciousness. A steady high pitch whine slowly gave way to the sound of blood pounding in my ears. I was still on the table. I coughed and opened my eyes. More accurately, I was on the restraints. Their edges bit into my skin and smoldering clothes. The table was on its side, tilted toward the ground. The air stank of burnt stone and metal. I could see a cracked metal floor beneath me. My fervent prayers had been answered beyond my wildest hopes. Not only had my explosion saved me, but I was also still alive to appreciate it. Now I just had to escape and survive long enough to enjoy my good fortune. The table appeared to have been what saved me. Another metal surface, likely the roof or a piece of it, tilted at an angle from the upper edge of the table, down to the floor a few meters away. I tested my limbs and found them all functional. There was pain to be sure, but it didn’t feel like I’d broken anything. I even felt a little give in the restraints on my right arm. Working the small amount of movement furiously, I was rewarded with a clang. The band around my upper arm had given, allowing me to bend my elbow out. A few painful jerks and the wrist restraint gave. With some agonizing contortions, I slowly freed myself. Tremors and loud noises regularly interrupted me. With each one I paused for a moment, not wanting to cause anything to shift and crush me. Freeing my feet last, I began looking for a way out. The first way I tried was a dead end but crawling back the other way I discovered a rent in the floor. One large enough to slip my body through. I was halfway through the hole when another tremor hit. I froze, hanging from my waist, my hair spilling down onto a twisted girder below me. The shaking subsided and I gingerly began to move again. I tested the girder before incrementally shifting my weight onto it. The cloth on my legs caught and tore on the ragged lip of the hole but I managed to ease my legs through it without getting cut. My whole body was letting me know how unhappy it was. I told it that if I made it out of here, we’d sleep for a week. The initial collapse of the building had apparently taken a few of the floors and mixed them together. Creating a labyrinth of debris. What followed was a deadly game of choose the path that isn’t going to collapse and crush Vaeronica. Twice, I set off chain reactions that obliterated the path in front and behind. It was a copious amount of good luck, not to mention multiple miracles, that got me through the maze of broken stone and warped metal. My heart was in my mouth and beating in staccato by the time I dropped into a mostly intact room. My bare feet slipped on the metal floor as I landed. I went sprawling. I stayed down as the metal floor shook under me for a second. I looked up eyeing the ceiling I’d come through. My eyes drifted down to the walls. Stress cracks ran through everything. All around were the groans of a building struggling to stay upright. I rolled to my feet with only a bit of a stagger. Well past time to be gone from this horrid place. I padded over to the room’s door and peered out. The hall on the other side was intact. The bodies strewn about it, weren’t. Limbs, sections of torso, and the odd head were the most recognizable parts of the carnage. The rest were just bumpy red smears. I slapped a hand to my mouth and nose. It smelled like the Gutter at the height of summer. Another tremble in the floor was the push I needed to step into the midst of it. If this floor had the same general layout as the others I’d been on, the lift should be to my right. Down the hallway. Through the slaughter. Had Zethirim done this? I could imagine they’d been irate after being pulled across the void to another universe and then locked in a metaphorical box. However, when I’d envisioned what the daimon’s vengeance might look like, I pictured more, imagination. This was simple, indiscriminate slaughter. I tried to avoid stepping in any of the gore. In sections though, I was reduced to choosing the shallowest and least chunky puddle. I came to a turn in the corridor and it was only that fact that my hand was already over my mouth that saved me. I stepped back as quietly as I could. What in the Maw was that monster? The quadruped had been feasting messily on a former person. After taking a second to get my breathing under control I edged my head past the corner. It was facing away, powerful hind end crouched on thick feline looking legs. Its bushy tail was more reminiscent of a squirrel. I’d been planning to find the lift and trying to escape down that way, but there was no way I was about to attempt to sneak past that thing. I backtracked up the hall as quietly as I could. Fear gave me a whole new reason to watch where I stepped. I’d only passed one doorway that led to a room with an exterior wall, so I made for it, hoping it had windows. Strangely enough I found the short walk back, it couldn’t have been more than three meters, the most physically strenuous thing I’d done that week. If I wasn’t counting the torture that is. With every step I took, I imagined the beast’s ears perking up. If the creature wasn’t chewing, would it catch the soft slurping noise each foot fall made? What about my ragged, drawn out breaths or the thundering of my heart? What if it just scented me? I had to force myself not to throw open the door when I came to it. Then I had to force myself not to cry, curse or whimper when I found it locked. I pressed my body against the cool metal of the door. As if it would suddenly fall open or reality might bend enough for me to just pass through the barrier. Quietly, I took a breath against it, filling my lungs. Then let it out. Patience, patience Vaeronica, patience. So, what if this was a bust. Always another way. The lift was out. There were still the stairs though and I could check for more rooms with windows on my way. Casting a paranoid look at the corner, behind which death-on-four-legs lurked, I steeled myself and pressed on. Hands held out from my hips for extra balance I began to walk. One foot. Then the other. A voice I didn’t recognize floated out of a half forgotten memory. ‘One foot in front of the other and you’ll get where you’re headed. You just have to keep on doing it.’ I was three quarters of the way to where the corridor turned to the left when I noticed another door on my right. My eyes had kind of skimmed over it because of the mutilated remains that dangled on the side of the door frame nearest me. Clenching the muscles just under my breasts I braced myself and briefly examined the corpse. Dangled or hung, either word worked. The neck led into a hole in the wall. I fearfully looked back the way I’d come. There would be no fighting a monster that could thrust a claw through metal like this. If the theory forming in my head was correct and the monster was the ‘unsuccessful survivor’, then I really hoped Zethirim got a hold of that Cleric. I was cognizant that my morals were, unique, and somewhat twisted in comparison to the average. I would, and had, willingly tread dark and dirty paths in the pursuit of my objectives. The creation of sentient abominations though, was one line I could never cross. Such innovation was better left inert. Their poisonous fruit disposed of and destroyed. The people of this world had learned that the hard way, when Gilles de Rais unleashed the calamity upon us. One would think the walls we huddled behind would be a sufficient reminder of the cost. Were the dire beasts not enough? I stepped past the corpse to the door. With a prayer on my breath, I tried the handle. Hope fell, rose, and fell again as I found the door lock, yet noticed a punch card slot, only to remember I didn’t have a punch card anymore. There might have been one on the bodies if I searched them. The risk of that thing finding me was too great though. The building was still groaning too, even though there hadn’t been a tremor in while. I decided to just move on to the stairs. Cautiously rounding the hall’s corner to the left, I saw that this section had even more dead people than the entire section I’d come down. They must have fled this way first when the explosion went off. I had to force my feet down between limbs a few times, the carnage was so dense. I did pass one more door on my way. There was a pile of bodies in front of it though. By the way one dwarf had died, still gripping the handle, I assumed it was locked as well. I finally reached the intersection and cautiously peered down the hallway that cut across the middle of the building. I couldn’t see the monster. That didn’t mean it wasn’t just to either side though. Darting glances between that hall and the open door on my right that led into the stairwell, I took a step. Then another. With the thick blood and viscera coating the floor I guess it was only a matter of time before I slipped. I shot a hand outward to catch myself, clutching onto the corner of the wall. Fear locking my limbs, I craned my head back to look toward the lift. Still no monster. That was good. Right? It took a lot of will power to make that next step. I took it however, as well as the next two that put me through the door frame. If I could close the door behind me then maybe that thing would stay put. Only one, upper half, of a person laid in directly in the way. A more vertically split corpse was propped against the door, but I could just lean her out of the way. I did so while still keeping an eye down the central hall. Then I dragged the upper half of the mercenary out of the door’s path. I began closing the door incrementally when a scream saved my life. The dying cry shot up the stairwell, from below. Dreading what I’d find, I peeked over the handrail. Brilliant gold eyes met mine. Scheisse. I leapt out of the stairwell back through the door. Bending in half to grab the handle I hauled the door shut behind me. Then took off at a run. A meat wrapped bone slipped oddly underfoot and I slammed into a wall to avoid twisting my ankle. Metal tore behind me and there was a dull thud. It was quickly followed by a shudder that I felt through the metal floor. Pushing off the wall I sprinted forward. An unnatural scream of rage wash over my back. It froze the hairs on my neck in an upright position. More sounds of metal being rent, were followed by multiple clangs. Footfalls that audibly deformed the floor, pounded toward me. Not caring what awaited me at the bottom, I dove into the lift shaft. A wet noise and warmth on my leg proceeded a wrenching agony. The flesh of my leg arrested my forward momentum, by tearing apart. My body’s weight fell on my left shin as it slammed into the lip of the shaft. I thought that finally it was a good time to scream. It was interrupted briefly when my face smacked into the side of the shaft. Then I was free to continue while I was hauled upwards. I desperately grabbed hold of the lift’s gear track. Still screaming. Tears had begun to fall freely, running into my hair in streams. Flying upwards I had a moment to take in the vista of the stub snout abomination rending my broken leg in its mouth. The crumbling building’s deafening roar broke the moment. The monster spat out my leg and whirled around as the all the walls on that floor exploded. Debris shot out everywhere, filling the air with flying metal and bits of stone. As the weight of wreckage above crushed the level, gravity found my now untethered form and dragged me down. I fell a floor. My fingers grabbed the lip of the floor below, but my momentum ripped it from my grasp, and I fell down to the next. I managed to get my arms underneath myself to absorb some of the impact, but my body still struck with bone jarring force. My ongoing terror of the monster, now somewhere above me, had me flailing on the ground ineffectually for a moment. Metal whined and stone groaned above me doubling my panic. I got my good foot under me finally and heaved myself up onto the waist high ledge. I scrambled out of the lift well and crawled around the corner into the lobby. Thankfully there was no one that had loitered there. I would have questioned their sanity if they had. I grudgingly allowed myself a quick pause, slouching against the stone block wall. I wanted to get out of here before the building shifted again and completely collapsed. However, I needed to stop the blood loss while I still had some to lose. An urge to collapse, and huddle into the fetal position, stole over me. It would be so easy to crumple down on the floor right here and shut my eyes. Just for a moment. I was tilting to my side when Wynter’s face flashed in my mind. Those piercing blue eyes judging me. Stripping away the excuses I hid my weakness under. She wouldn’t give up here. She’d tell her fatigue to jump in the Maw and push on. Even as a mere figment of my malfunctioning mind, I found that I didn’t want her thinking my will was feeble. I clenched the muscles on the right side of my stomach and straightened up. With shaking hands, I ripped the vestiges of my skirt into shreds. It left only a short length of material that barely reached mid-thigh. I numbly took in my shredded shin and ankle before crudely bandaging it. I was already feeling a little dizzy from the blood loss and probably had bruising in my head. Nothing a healing potion couldn’t solve. If I lived long enough to find one. I took my last two strips of cloth and fashioned a makeshift tourniquet using a scrap of metal. Heaving a few breaths, I searched for the strength to get up. I even briefly wondered if I could use the pit of rage in me somehow. It had been strangely quiet since I’d awoken, post explosion. A quick mental query told me that even though my mental avatar was still holding the chains as trained. Yet there had been not even a hint of the great well waking. I flashed back to the red floor. And the daimon. I’d almost successfully pushed that particular issue into the back of my mind. Was Zethirim still affecting me? Were they still in my mind? Disturbing as that thought was, I put it and the issue with my anger aside. I had more immediate concerns. I didn’t even try to stand, instead I crawled across the grimy floor toward the outer door. The dry grit dug into my palms. My torn leg throbbed with the movement. I let silent tears fall as they would, keeping my jaw clamped shut. That creature had probably survived. No sense attracting attention when that monster could reappear at any moment. Pulling myself through that outer door felt like a major accomplishment. It was pandemonium outside. The street was a nightmarish maze of fallen debris. People rushed through the haze of smoke and dust that saturated the air. Disembodied sobbing came from somewhere close by. Farther off, terrified screams pierced through the overall din. It wasn’t as thick as one of my alchemical fogs, but it made it difficult to make out details. My hands sank into the mud as I crawled away from the building. I tried to keep my injured leg held out of it but that didn’t last long. I just didn’t have the focus or the energy. I didn’t have the energy to think of all the blood maladies I was exposing myself to. I had gotten most of the way across when the primal roar I’d been dreading, came to life. No way was my luck this bad. It couldn’t still be after me. There was other prey for the abomination to hunt now, I told myself. All I had to do was not draw attention. I lowered myself into the mud and cautiously resumed my crawl. Now and then, I could feel my flesh being cut. The odd bit of metal debris in the filth that slurped past my chest. I could survive it though. Unlike another encounter with that monsters’ teeth or claws. I thanked my luck when I wriggled into the alley mouth. It was only then that I risked a look back. No. Scheisse, no. Why! The thing was ignoring the other beings that ran from it. Its horrible face was pressed into the mud. Following a scent. My scent. The chimeran monstrosity followed its nose to the middle of the street. Then it looked up, directly at me. Those almost glowing golden eyes narrowed. No. I couldn’t end like this. It wasn’t fair. I’d survived and escaped that horrid building. I wasn’t supposed to die now. I realized soft whimpers were coming from my mouth but did nothing to stop them. This wasn’t fair. The beast crouched for a killing pounce and time seemed to slow for a moment. The creature sprang into the air. White and gold light illuminated its light brown, blood soaked fur. Then the light pummeled the creature sideways, back into the ground. The monster bounced back off the street at the impact, only to be hit again by another blast of intense light. The Cleric, Dathu, stormed into view. His white coat flared out behind him like a flag. He raised his sacred symbol shouting a word and a ring of spinning gold and white diamonds formed around him. They arced into the air before shooting into the abomination. I shut my gaping mouth and collected myself. It’d be wise to let the two monsters fight it out between themselves. It didn’t really matter which one came out alive. Either of them finding me would end very poorly. For me. I turned and crawled up the alley. I made it about halfway to the next street, the sounds of the fight still raging behind me, when my body finally gave out. I collapsed in the filth. I went to move, trying to rise, when lights exploded across my eyes. Nausea hit me hard. I threw up, barely managing to keep my head high enough not to drown. Everything was pain now. Whimpering, I wanted to scream, but it was suddenly hard to get air into my lungs. It was amazing that I was able to topple over onto my side and keep myself from drowning in my own vomit. Gasping, I twitched weakly in a loose ball. Muddy bare feet moved into my vision. I heard a rough feminine voice. One that faintly sparked some recognition.

“I guess I do owe you. Try not to…” Was all I heard before drowning in darkness.

Chapter 36

I knew this place. It resonated with me. I remembered its feel, its texture and scent. Its caress as it slid through my body and mind. My heart clenched. My still beating heart. I felt out the rest of my body without moving or opening my eyes. My head was supported comfortably. Aching faintly, the rest of my body was lying stretched out on a warm soft surface. I groaned as phantom pains of my body’s suffering flashed through me. The pain faded back to only a memory though, as my body realized it was no longer battered or bruised. Dark silk fell across my face for a moment before it was swept back. Hair, I realized distantly. Raina’s hair. Which would make the salty drops falling on my face, her tears.

“Welcome back my grumpy girl.” Her soft voice was choked with emotion. “We were worried. You’ve been out for a while.” A soft hand stroked my hair gently. “Much longer than is typical for you. How are you feeling?”

That, I thought, was an excellent question. Unfortunately, my mind informed me that it’s not one that I wouldn’t be able to answer anytime soon. So, I just went with, “Better.” I looked into her watery brown eyes. The events leading up to my last conscious thought, spiked a little fear in me. “Where are we?”

“Home. You’re safe. A woman who introduced herself as Wynter brought you here. She thought you might have been injured in the explosion near the docks.” She had stopped stroking my hair, however she resumed when I shuddered at the mention of the labs. “She thought it would be less stressful on you, to wake up somewhere familiar. A safe place.”

“Thank you.” I kept my voice soft, aware that with every word I risked a meltdown. Weirdly with all the stuff already on… and in… my mind, there was a confusing sensation of… peevishness. An irrational pang that Wynter hadn’t chosen to look after me herself. Which was crazy… right? “So it was Wynter who found me in the alley?”

“Alley? No. She said a woman brought you to some Gentry. They were told that Wynter would want to see you. The stranger dumped you in their arms before running away. They don’t know who she was. When the Gentry brought you to her, Wynter forced healing potions into you until the, numerous, wounds began to close. She stayed with you for a while but brought you here this morning.” A hint of humor entered Raina’s voice, “She said she had some things to take care of, and that you needed someone to keep you out of trouble for a few days while you got back on your feet. I agreed with her assessment. So no adventures for a while, okay Vaeronica? Magic might mend your body, but we both know your mind needs time too.”

“Unghmembfyvt.” I grumbled. Yup that’s me mistress of the witty retort. I relaxed into Raina’s soothing strokes, letting my tattered mind idle in the fragile moment of tranquility. There would be time later to think about all the loose threads still dangling about. Here, now, in this beautiful grain of calm time I was content to just exist for the moment. I found myself staring into Raina’s faces at some point. Despite being mostly obscured by shadow, I could see that her expression was tender. It reminded me of the way she would sometimes look as she gently rocked her younger kids to sleep. I realized that despite the pain of my past and the pain that would, inevitably be in my future, these peaceful bubbles in-between made the rest worth bearing. Despite the trial’s life could throw at me, this tightly blended family was here to welcome me with open arms. All things, and there were a lot of them, considered, the week could have ended much worse. I was alive. Physically in one piece. Not being tortured by demented Cleric’s, deific daimons or terrifying monstrosities. All together, I counted it as a win. That said, my luck had to be thread thin by now. Who had my mysterious rescuer been? A few words hadn’t been enough for me to recognize them, despite the niggling sensation that I’d known her.

***

Raina, and her stern expressions, kept me at the bakery for a few days. She had sent Atabey up to watch my shop, telling me that I could either relax or she’d tie me up and leave me to the mercy of my adopted siblings. After all the excitement, the days seemed indulgently lazy despite me helping Rania look after the little mischief makers. I admit that I thirstily drank in every second of the homey atmosphere. The children’s antics warmed my very bones. No fire or magic could ever match the effects of this healing sociable warmth. As rejuvenating as it was at the bakery, after a week of it, I forced myself to leave. As pleasant as it had been, I still had work to do. Great work. My dreams wouldn’t be realized if I just sat around. There were a few loose ends to tie up too. Raina teared up during my departure and made me promise to come back in a week or so. The only Gentry I spoke to, were the ones stationed at the entrance to the Undercity. I asked them to pass along a message to Wynter, saying that she should stop by my shop when she had the time. I sculked past the rest of them on my way to the city stairs. It might have smelt of cowardice but while I was looking forward to seeing Wynter, I needed time before I could face down her father again. On the trip up the stairs, I overheard the rumors of what had happened at the docks. Apparently, and unsurprisingly, alchemists had received the blame. The story being that a group of them created the monster that got loose. It was the monster that allegedly caused the explosion as it escaped. It was only by the ‘grace’ of Those Above that a Cleric had arrived to put a stop to their villainy and an end to the monstrosity. I managed not to throw up in my mouth when I heard that, but it was a near thing. Regardless of the recent excitement however, life in the city seemed to be continuing without so much as a hiccup. Upon my return, I found that Atabey had done an excellent job of keeping my store running during my ‘vacation’ time. Not only had she apparently been a hit with customers, but she also had handled a visit from the Cleric with graceful subterfuge. The story was that a friend had gotten hurt at the docks and I’d taken some time to help them recover. Thin, but the Cleric knew I had people I cared about down there so it worked. Atabey had handled the responsibilities thrust upon her with undeniable grace. It made my decision about her easy. After an intense negotiation over tea, I hired Atabey formally as my shop assistant and informally as my alchemy apprentice. She’d never be able to open a legal practice in the city, but then again, she wasn’t legally even supposed to be within the walls. We had the discussion of getting her back to her home city, but Atabey told me that if I didn’t object to it, she preferred trying to make a new life for herself here. Objections were the last thing on my mind. I even surprised myself by promising to help her. Saying that I would teach her about the city. It’s physical and social structures. In short, be her guardian until she became self sufficient. Just as Raina had helped me all those years ago. In hindsight, I may have been both overly, enthusiastic about the idea and, confident in my ability to accomplish it. At Atabey’s request, we held a small memorial for Tia and Sedna. I stayed behind my merchant’s mask for the ceremony. Not to hide my emotions, but rather to hide my lack thereof. While I did feel bad about how Tia’s life had ended, I was not particularly broken up over it. As for Sedna… Besides her betrayal, there was a lingering feeling that I’d not seen the last of that woman. That night, after the funeral, I made Atabey the fourth person to know about my sanctuary. It was a leap of faith for me to trust her, but it also was a necessity. With her working for me, we agreed that her moving in with me above the store made the most sense. Trying to keep the sanctuary a secret from her just wouldn’t have been practical. Besides, most of my alchemy was done in the sanctuary anyways and with her trusting nature, it would be child’s play to keep a few secrets from her. Like the true nature of the apparatus I was creating. I didn’t think she’d approve of my… spirit shredder. I really had to think of a better name for it. She picked things up quickly, but I only got one day to familiarize Atabey with my sanctuary, before we got a personal visit from the Cleric.

Chapter 37

I was wiping down my counter when the Cleric stepped through the door. I instinctively clamped down on my anger. Only to find myself growing abnormally, cold, inside. My merchant’s mask slid on, no, more like coalesced over me in a flash. It covered more than just my face too. Flexing my new extents, it seemed as if every muscle I had was now under my explicit control. Interesting, yet not something I had the time to experiment with at the moment. “Cleric Dathu!” I greeted him cheerfully. “May your day be sun filled.”

“Vaeronica,” He gave me a disgustingly childing smile, “how many… Never mind. I’m glad to see that you’re okay!” He came up to the counter bracing his hand on it. “I heard you were caught up in that unfortunate incident near the docks.”

That’s not what Atabey said to him. I was sure. I had gone over it with her twenty times. Did he still suspect something? “No,” I corrected him, “but I did go down to Indus to look after a dear friend of mine. They were unfortunate enough to be in the area that day.” I gave him a searching look. “No one seems to know exactly what happened that day.”

His eyes darted over my face, before turning off to the side. “A large explosion caused a building to collapse down onto the structures nearby. The blast is currently thought to have been alchemical in nature. From what little we have been able to put together, the building appears to have been linked to my prior investigation.” His gaze came back to rest heavily on me. I could almost see the rusty gears behind his eyes. “Fortunately some headway has been made on that front. It appears that you were more involved in the events leading to Alchemist Krutov’s death than I had originally known.”

Only the new self control I’d just discovered, kept me from reacting to the shock that hit me. What did he mean by that? Had I been betrayed? Or had I just missed a thread somewhere. I cocked my head innocently. “What are you talking about Dathu?” I’ll admit to simpering a little. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“After finding some more clues in the wreckage, I was led to a prior investigation. One headed by a sister of mine in the Church. Cleric Fariha.” He leaned forward. “Do you remember her? When I spoke with her, I learned that she was already acquainted with you.”

Not good. Not horrible either though. It was a relatively minor revelation compared to the alternatives. “Oh. Yes.” I looked down and brought a knuckle to my lips dramatically. “That’s an unfortunate remnant from my past.” For my next words I didn’t even have to lie. Much. “I never brought it up because I was unsure how that incident could possibly connect to what happened with Alchemist Krutov.”

“From my discussion with Cleric Fariha we now believe Alchemist Krutov hired the thief Lucal to steal forbidden records of the Calamity De Rais.”

I forged a look of concerned surprise at the news.

He turned slightly, looking at me but not meeting my eyes. “I’ve been informed that you had a previous relationship with that individual.”

I was free to show my genuine disgust. “That’s correct Dathu. I’ve become a better judge of character since then.”

Thankfully, the words made him brighten noticeably. “We all make mistakes Vaeronica. A cur like him, it was no fault of your own that he deceived you.”

Oh gee, thanks.

“The good news is that we were able to locate two of the three stolen books in the wreckage of the building that collapsed. That definitively ties Alchemist Krutov to the perverse experimentation that was being conducted in that place.” He shook his head in disgust. “How anyone could become so twisted…” He turned to lean a hip against the counter. Looking out the front of the shop, his voice grew a little distant. “I wonder sometimes Vaeronica, if every citizen is truly worthy of our shelter.”

A Cleric doubting the tenets of Those Above? How… interesting. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I shifted the conversation back to recent events. “Where you able to salvage enough to determine what the group’s goal was?”

The Cleric frowned, splaying a hand on the counter. “We found an intact stone we believe was used as part of a summoning. With the glass shards I showed you the other day, I’m confident that they were cavorting with paraspecies in other universes. Adding in the Calamity records and the appearance of some kind of…” He didn’t say it, but I could guess he was thinking of the creature he’d fought that day. “To be perfectly honest Vaeronica, I can’t for the life of me figure out what their goal was.”

I didn’t feel like enlightening him. Not only would it implicate me, the truth was that I also just wanted to put this all behind me so I could focus on my own research once more. “So that’s the end of your investigation I suppose?”

“For now, at least. After Alchemist Krutov’s death, I would hypothesize that your predecessor, Citizen Valetin, took over the experiments. We’ve added him to our priority wanted list. His description is now with every guildmember in the city. His capture should just be a matter of time. That being said.” He gave me a grave look. “Should either he, or the thief Lucal, contact you again, please do not antagonize them. Give them anything they ask for, send them on their way, and then get word to me immediately.”

“I’ll do that.” I beamed up at him. “Thank you for your concern.” Now kindly remove yourself from my life. “With the investigation on hiatus, I believe I will miss our conversations.” I said, showing him a beautifully crafted smile. It bore, just the right amounts of both sadness and resolve, yet hinted that I would cherish the memories we had made together forever. I was quite proud of it.

He gave me an odd look, that broke into a grin. One that was far too smug for my liking. “I think I understand Vaeronica.” Since there was nothing to understand I could only assume he’d misunderstood something. “I want to reassure you, that I think very highly of you.”

Oh-kay…

He leaned a bit closer with a solemn expression. “Despite what preconceived notions you may hold, you are worthy. But do not fret. Now that we can put that investigation behind us, I will have ample time to show you.”

He’d completely lost me. Eager to be done with him I resorted to a grin and nodded. That, thankfully, seemed to satisfy him, as he departed with a downright cordial goodbye. I frowned behind my merchant’s mask as he left the store. Don’t misunderstand, I was delighted to see him disappear out the door. Neither was it that accursed symbol on the back of his coat. Well, not precisely anyway. What troubled me, was how calm I was about that ugly symbol. I could actually look right at it. I stared at that awful thing and felt… Nothing. The ocean of rage and hate hadn’t even twitched. Silent, as if sleeping. Or dead.

Chapter 38

I had just put the Cleric’s visit behind me and was showing Atabey how to refill herb containers at the counter, when an unexpected, but this time welcomed, surprise sauntered into the store. My task momentarily forgotten, I straightened. My attention narrowed in on Wynter. She swept up to the opposite end of the aisle I was in and smiled. Those blue eyes connected with mine and that feeling of sinking into them hit me once more.

“Hello Vaeronica.” Her voice wrapped around me like silk. “I’m glad to see you looking healthy and in one piece again.” She said with warmth.

“Hi, Wynter.” I realized I was still holding a half full container and set it clumsily on a nearby shelf. “Hi.” I repeated inanely. “Welcome! I’m told I have you to thank for my survival.” Unconsciously I gravitated toward her, walking closer before awkwardly stopping myself a few steps away.

Her face softened. “My pleasure, although I can’t claim to have had much more than a hand in it.”

“Right, Raina told me. Have you found out who saved me in that alley?” I was curious to know if there was yet another stray thread I had to trim.

“No. I’ve questioned the Gentry she spoke to but no luck so far.” She shrugged. “It matters little. Whoever they are, they have my gratitude for saving you. What really happened that day Vaeronica?”

“Heh.” I rubbed a finger into my temple. “That’s a long story, let me close up an—”

“I can watch the store Vaeronica.” Atabey cut in.

To my great embarrassment, I’d forgotten all about her. “Oh, yes. Umm, thank you. Atabey.” Forcing down the heat rising in my face, I smiled at Wynter and gestured to the stairs. “Please. This way.” Nodding in that graceful way she had about her she preceded me to the back of the store. Passing a thankful smile to Atabey I followed Wynter up to the apartment. I swear my eyes only strayed once… or twice. I gestured for her to sit on the bed while pulling up a crate for myself. Starting with when Sedna came by, I laid out the events with only a few, light edits. With a hint of irrational shame, I recounted how I’d fallen for Sedna’s betrayal. I told her about setting the explosion. Then my discovery of the Cleric’s goal, and how she was creating controllable, living weapons. I did, I’ll admit, gloss over my forced confession under the Cleric’s spell. While I was well on my way to liking the woman, old insecurities still made me censor my words. Wynter whistled when I described the daimon being summoned. Eerily, as I spoke Zethirim’s name, I thought I heard the soft whisper of wings. Only for a moment. The phantom noise faded as I continued my story.

When I trailed off after clinically detailing what happened to Tia, Wynter leaned forward and reached across to touch my knee. “I can only say that I am truly sorry you had to endure that experience Vaeronica. I too have witnessed, things, events that carved themselves into my mind. I don’t know if it will be any consolation, but some of our people reported that the body of a cleric was found in the wreckage. After what you’ve told me, I hope it was that woman.”

Monster, I wanted to correct her. Not as physically terrifying as the beast I’d encountered, yet no less monstrous. As all clerics were. My mind slipped to Farrow, but I kept the ingrained fear from showing itself. Forcing a smile, I quickly moved on. He was another problem. Best left for another day. “That’s welcome news.” I said gratefully. “Thank you for sharing it with me.

“What did the daimon do to…” She made an odd sound before asking again. “What happened next?”

“Well, then it was my turn to be bound.” I studied her trying to quickly decide how much of the weird experience to reveal. I ended up telling her that I went unconscious and that the next thing I remembered, was the tumultuous seconds before the explosion. Until I understood more about what I’d seen in my mind, that part would stay my secret. Well, mine and the daimons. I could only hypothesize that the strange new silence in my mind was linked to whatever the daimon had done in there. True or not, there was little I could do about it. Thankfully, the binding itself didn’t seem to affect my everyday life. Whether it was the daimon’s will or some loophole, I could still access the small trickle of magic in me. Until new information, or Zethirim themselves, showed up, it was pointless to stress about something that was out of my control.

“They didn’t find any sign of the daimon yet have they?” I asked hopelessly.

She shook her head, her eyes softening. “No signs beside the remnants of the summoning circle. What happened just before the explosion? Could the daimon have been sent back?”

There had been a lot happening, however I was beyond a doubt certain that Zethirim had still been there before I blacked out. Was it possible there was some scripted failsafe that had sent them home? Possible perhaps. Yet highly unlikely. “I think it’d be a mistake to assume so.” I warned Wynter. Picturing the daimon in my mind, I could easily see them having survived both the explosion and the subsequent collapse. “My guess would be that they either escaped into the sea or found somewhere to lay low within the walls. Where exactly that is though…” I drifted off, shrugging helplessly. I had a hard time picturing Zethirim blending in with the citizenry.

“I’ll pass the daimon’s description along to the Gentry.” She let out a light laugh but I noted a hint of strain in it. “Although I expect our Gentry will report a being like that without my asking.” Wynter shifted an inky lock that had escaped her braid. Wynter’s face was entertaining to watch as I told her about my ensuing escape from the crumbling building and the harrowing encounter with the beast. As I wrapped up with my last memory, before I collapsed in the alley, she let out a great sigh.

At my raised eyebrow she explained, “Most people would not have survived that Vaeronica. It saddens me that you had to face it alone. I know we’ve only just met. Yet. I would feel cheated if you were taken from this world before I had the chance to get to know you better.” She wrapped a firm calloused hand around my own. “Promise me you will look after yourself and try to keep to less,” One side of her mouth pulled up in a grin, “perilous pursuits.”

I grinned and laughed. “I’ll do my best Wynter.”

“Good girl.” She straightened and adjusted her braid. “Have you heard from the Cleric running that investigation?”

“Mmhm.” I hooked my fingers and rested my hands on my head. “Really put me on edge too.” At her sharp look I freed a hand to wave it dismissively. “He didn’t threaten me or anything. He…” I screwed up my face. “He’s still acting weird around me and now that I know its not suspicion, I’m not sure the reason for it.”

Wynter thought in silence for a minute before asking, “Are you sure you’re not a suspect any longer?”

“He said as much. Not directly of course, but…” My mind went back over the Cleric’s visit. “Perhaps, it was more than just his words.” I’d been preoccupied with how calm I’d been with his looming presence about. I put a smile on my face. “Well, hopefully that will have been the last I’ll see of him.”

“Now that the excitement is over, what will you do?”

I shrugged. “Back to business as usual I suppose. My store coffers could use some stable sales for a while.”

She laughed loudly and rose. “Then I shall not take up anymore of your time.” She offered her hand to help me up. I slid my palm against hers and stood. It put us into intimate proximity of one another. Closer to those deep pools of cerulean.

“Wynter,” I breathed out, “I will see you again, won’t I?”

She leaned in until our noses were almost touching. “Of that, you can be guaranteed Vaeronica.” She held there a second. Letting out breaths conjoin and the tension bloom. When she straightened, drawing back, I may have let slip a soft sound of protest.

Wynter drifted to the stairs with long, grace filled strides. “See you soon Vaeronica.” She called back before descending.

I stood statue still for longer than I should probably admit. Even when I rejoined Atabey my mind remained on the blue eyed beauty who had undoubtedly changed my path in life. Unbeknownst to me at that time, Wynter was far from done with me. She would break, build, and forever bind me. That, however, is another story altogether.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38