Jess waved goodbye as she exited the butchers, carefully sidestepping around the dancing hogs as Nevin drew close.
“Why didn’t you tell her you weren’t sent by the alchemists?” he whispered in a worried tone. His eyes flit back and forth, warily eyeing the streets for anyone close enough to overhear them.
Jess pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at his statement, but Nevin was undeterred. He struck her as being the only one of them likely to draw suspicion. Hopefully they didn’t run into any guards when he was acting as though they’d cased a bank heist rather than completed someone else’s errand.
He stopped, crossing his arms and pouting. His hood was a little askew again, but he didn’t seem to notice it. He must be really worried about this.
“Look,” Jess said before sighing. “The way I see it, technically they did… sort of send me here.”
A puzzled expression fleetingly settled over Nevin’s features before being quickly replaced by a frown.
“I was told to get livers, yes?” she continued.
Nevin nodded slowly.
“…and now I have livers,” Jess finished, raising the parcel, and giving it a little shake.
“It still doesn’t feel right,” Nevin countered.
“Yeah, well. Welcome to my world, Sunshine,” said Jess. Nevin merely poked at a stone with the toe of his boot. “Tell you what. Why don’t we grab something to eat and then we’ll see what happens at the tower? Alright?”
Nevin nodded but didn’t uncross his arms until Jess started to walk away in the direction of the food stalls.
His mood seemed to lighten considerably when he helped Jess pick out some meat pies and the two of them walked and ate in comfortable silence. The pies were simply named ‘red pies’ and so Jess had little idea of what they contained until she took a large bite. She was pleasantly surprised that the red juices that oozed out from the pastry crust tasted of beetroot rather than anything more ominous. Jess had to admit, Nevin had good taste. That or she was so ravenous that any pastry with meat dripping would have been considered a feast. She hoped for the former though. It was only the late afternoon, and it wasn’t as though she’d skipped breakfast. Unless time works differently here?
As the dishevelled tower of Master Darkhault came into view, Jess couldn’t help but sigh. She wasn’t normally an advocate for violence, but some crimes were too heinous to ignore. The sloping behemoth before her was one of those.
The large wooden door was still standing wide open. Looks heavy. I wonder if they ever bother closing it? It seemed redundant when you could just put up a magic forcefield to protect your belongings instead.
“Wish me luck,” she said to Nevin before striding towards the door with her parcel still in hand.
She sucked in a large lungful of air before raising a foot to take a step across the invisible boundary. Shimmery blue lines laced a pattern across her skin as she moved without resistance into the interior of the building. She spun around, shooting Nevin a delighted grin and a thumbs up with her free hand.
The inside of the building felt musty. Mustier than it had any right to be when the main door was left open for so many hours on such a fine day. Jess wondered if the barrier stopped the passage of more than just living people from travelling across it. It would make sense, but then, the air quality inside would suffer. Maybe the old farts don’t even realise. Noseblind like people who live with dogs. Alarming flashbacks of ex boyfriends and their bachelor pads sprang to mind. Not quite the same definition of ‘dogs’.
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She headed towards an archway and spotted a stairway that led upwards.
“Hello?” she called before setting a tentative foot on the bottom step. Her voice seemed to echo eerily through the building. There’s got to be more than just the one guy here, right? Meredith’s words had put ideas into her head of mad scientists and their staff. Where were the cleaners or maids? The house staff? Empty buildings are so creepy. Even the presence of an Igor to lead her towards Master Darkhault’s experimentation room would be less creepy than this apparent absence of life. Is this why Nevin took the role out in the woods? Can’t say I blame the poor kid.
As she climbed the stairs, she kept her hand firmly on the wooden banister. The stairs were worn stone and dipped in the middle as though they had been gradually eroded by the passage of visitors. Candelabras flickered overhead. Heavy blackened iron rings supporting a multitude of ivory-coloured candlesticks. Odd though that there seemed to be no dripped wax on the floor.
At the top of the stairs, there was a junction and Jess was faced with the option of turning right, down one unmarked hallway… or turning left, down a seemingly identical unmarked hallway.
Eeny meeny miny moe…
Without any discernible differences to help her decide, Jess headed left whilst hoping for the best. Worst case scenario, she would simply turn around and double back on herself.
The first few doors that she came across were locked. She hollered through each of them before trying the handles, but there was no movement nor response from within. When she rounded another corner, she came face to face with a large window. She hissed an intake of breath at the sight of the slowly sinking sun. It would still be a few hours until sunset, but Jess had lost most of the day. Will it be evening when I get back? Will any time have passed at all?
A noise caught Jess’s attention. It was a scraping sound, like that of furniture being dragged across the floor.
“Hello?” she called out. It had come from further ahead and so she walked in that direction, switching the livers to her other hand so that she could flex her aching fingers.
There was no response, but the noises of movement continued. Light footsteps could be heard on a bare floor as well as scuffles and scrapes of items being moved around. They seemed to be coming from a room at the end of the hallway, the door of which was slightly ajar.
She reached her hand out and pushed on the wooden door. It gave way easily but gave a loud creak as it did so. Beyond the door was a room that Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein would have been proud of. A tall ceiling laden with candelabra would provide sufficient light during the evenings and windows that stretched across not just one of the walls, but two, lit the room at present.
The walls that did not have windows had bookcases festooned with more reading material than she could work through in a decade.
In the middle of the room stood an elderly gentleman in a robe that was reminiscent of Nevin’s, but intricately embroidered with patterns and symbols that Jess didn’t recognise. The scant covering of white hair that he had seemed to be desperately seeking escape from his scalp and stuck out in all directions. He was pottering around at a large wooden bench covered in vials and beakers that were filled with various coloured liquids.
“Hello,” Jess called out again, but she could hear the way her voice wavered. “Are you Master Darkhault?”
The gent in the robe didn’t turn towards her but pointed at a table to the right of Jess. “Leave the parcel there, girl.”
“Alright,” said Jess, smarting from the insult of being called a ‘girl’. “…and then what?”
“Then you go,” he informed her in a haughty tone before returning his attention to the bench.
“Why all the drama just for some livers?” Jess asked.
That question caused the gent to pay attention. He turned around with a scowl on his face that seemed as though it may be as permanent as the deeply etched wrinkles he also wore.
“What are you talking about, girl?”
“Sir, I haven’t been a girl in a very long time,” Jess huffed, dumping the parcel and striding over to the bench. “You set a quest. I delivered on the goods. When do I get to go home?”
“Only adventurers from other lands can accept quests,” Master Darkhault informed her.
“Do I look like I’m from around here?” Jess said dryly, gesturing to her own clothing.
“No,” Master Darkhault admitted. “But you cannot be an adventurer otherwise we would not be having this conversation.”
He’s got me there… she thought. Now what?
“In any case, even if I were to treat you as an adventurer,” continued the old master, “you would be advised to make your way to the guardhouse for supplies.”
“Supplies?”
“Yes, to make your way into the Northern mountains and slay the wolves,” he explained.
“Ah…” replied Jess, weakly.
“You do not seem thrilled with that idea?”
Jess remained mute, unsure of what to say. The idea of battling rabid wolves wasn’t just the opposite of thrilling, it was utterly terrifying.
“Anything else…madam?” Master Darkhault asked.
“How… how am I supposed to get home?” Jess asked.
“I suggest you start by walking.”