Despite his words, Cal didn’t actually think he’d heard the last of the saga of the gardener and the noblewoman. However, Mephisterion seemed to be very much on the case. For the moment, Cal was happy to lean on his influential friend’s assurance that everything would be worked out.

Max was not finding it so easy to take Mephisterion’s assurances. He was curious, asking questions, speculating. He wondered about the vampire lord, about the influence he wielded, his contacts, and the strange magic that made his black carriage fly.

“That vehicle really shouldn’t be able to fly,” Max said. “Too heavy. That blue light around it was weird. Wasn’t it weird, Cal? I’ve never seen anything like that. Vampire magic, it’s got to be. Wow, I wonder what else he can do?”

Max was pacing, speaking low and rapidly, his head down and his hands behind his back, stopping occasionally to gesture in the air and fire off questions that Cal had no answer to, before carrying on his restless pacing without waiting for a reply.

This was very unlike Max’s usual behavior. At first, Cal thought Max was just excited by the new magic he’d seen, but as more time passed and his friend seemed unable to settle, Cal started to wonder about Max’s state of mind.

After half an hour, Cal decided it was time to intervene. “Max,” he said sharply, standing abruptly from his chair and interrupting Max’s ceaseless, hyperactive flow of chatter. Max halted mid-sentence, blinking as if waking from a trance.

“What’s with you, Max?” Cal said. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird, like you’ve drunk way too much coffee. Are you alright? You’ve not stopped talking and pacing since Mephisterion left. Come on, sit down and catch your breath.”

Max did as Cal asked, sitting slowly down in his usual chair by the hearth. The flames in the big fireplace had burned low, and Cal tossed another couple of lengths of wood on, noting that despite the seemingly endless supply that he’d inherited from Darkworth, the stack by the hearth was actually starting to look like it was running a bit low.

Flames licked along the edges of the new wood, and little pockets of dried sap popped and hissed as they boiled and bubbled out of the knots in the wood. The flames caught the running sap, bright tongues of fire ran along the fuel, and a sweet, wholesome smell of pine came from the fire as the new wood flared up, sending new warmth and light into the shadowy enchanter’s workshop.

“Sorry, Cal,” Max said after a pause, in a voice that was much more his own. “I guess you’re right, I’ve been acting a bit out of character. I think the mention of Barwell unsettled me, and… well, if I’m honest with myself, I couldn’t help thinking that Mephisterion might have some contacts with my family, that I might be able to reconnect with them through him and his influence. I think that sent me into a bit of a spiral, but it’s not helpful to get agitated about it.”

“You’re right about that, Max,” Cal said. He paused for a moment, wondering if he should say what was in his mind. He decided he should. It was better to be honest. “And Max, you don’t need the influence or connections of a vampire lord to reconnect with your family. You know where they are. They know who you are. If you want to, you can just walk right in and take your chances.”

Max looked horrified. “But my father banished me! He told me never to darken his door again and…”

“In anger, Max. He spoke in anger. You think he’s not regretted that since? How long has it been; five years? Come on, Max, put yourself in his shoes. You really think he’d turn you away if you showed up at his door tomorrow? What about your mother? Would she not want to see you again?”

“I just wondered,” Max said, and his voice again took on the breathless, excitable tone that he’d left behind since Cal had challenged him on it, “that if I could come at it some other way, with Mephisterion’s help, then maybe I could return with the benefit of a powerful friend’s influence, to make them think that I’d made more of a success of things and…”

“Max,” Cal said, gently but firmly. “Don’t try to stage a grand return - it won’t work. Ours isn’t that kind of story. We’re not the main characters in some heroic saga. Honesty will be better than grandeur. Being humble and straight with them will get you a better result than impressing them with your contacts. If you’re not ready to go back to them, that’s fine - I’m certainly not going to push you, nor think less of you if you’re not ready. But if it’s because you’re not ready, be honest with yourself about that, okay?”

Max’s face twisted for a moment, and Cal wondered if he’d pushed his friend too far. In this last half hour, Cal had gained an understanding of just how much Max had changed in the years since he’d left his father’s home and thrown himself on the mercy of fate in the teeming melting pot of Jutlyn city. In Max’s breathless tones and grand ideas, Cal caught a glimpse of the naivety and impulsivity that had led the younger Max to steal the amulet in the first place. Now, Cal wondered if he’d pushed a bit too far, and if the pride of that old part of Max would win over against his new, more self-aware self.

It did not.

After a moment, Max let out a great sigh and the high-strung tension left him again. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m not ready, that’s the truth of it. I’m ashamed to have left it for so long, I suppose, leaning into the excuse of my banishment to avoid doing what you said - seeing it from their point of view. I’m going to have to think about it. I’m not ready to go back, but I think I might get to be so, in time.”

“No rush,” Cal said, standing and placing a solid hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Take the time you need. You’ve got a safe place here, and that’s not going to change.”

Stifling a yawn, Cal suddenly realized just how late it was, and how tired he was. “Now I’m going to bed,” he said.

Max nodded. “Goodnight, Cal.”

Cal left Max sitting with his feet propped up on the edge of the hearth, staring into the flames.

* * *

As he settled in front of the stove upstairs, the pleasant idea that he might get a bit of a lie in the next day settled over him, comforting him like a warm blanket as he dropped off to sleep.

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It was not to be. Distressingly early the next morning, Cal woke from a deep, dreamless sleep to the sound of a gaggle of excited voices from downstairs and a fist hammering on the door to his upstairs apartment.

“God’s teeth,” he groaned as he rolled over. “What in the name of… ugh, it’s still dark. What time is it?”

“Cal! Wake up!” came the insistent voice of Max, calling through the door as he continued to pound at the wood with his fist. “Why have you locked the door? Wake up!”

“I am awake! Stop hitting the cursed door!” Cal croaked. “What’s all that racket? What time is it?”

The knocking stopped immediately, and Cal heard the grin in Max’s voice as he spoke again. “It’s early,” he said. “Really early.”

“I worked that out myself, but what’s the rush? What’s all that racket?”

“It’s Laria and her crew,” Max replied through the door. “The hunter team came in on a transport ship with the early tide, and they came straight here. They’ve got exciting news, Cal. Come on down!”

The words woke Cal up as quickly as a bucket of cold water over the head. He scrambled out of bed, staggering across the room and hauling the door open, but Max was gone.

The hunter team had returned! So much had happened over the last few days, but Cal had not forgotten Laria and her companions. He’d hoped that they would return yesterday, but he’d not be surprised when they hadn’t. After all, they were on a mission to tackle a Level 4 monster, and both their core collecting equipment and their experience as a team was likely to be very seriously challenged by that task.

Cal was very pleased to hear that they were back. His mood improved immediately, and he pulled on his boots and threw on his outer clothes in a hurry before taking the steps as quickly as he safely could in the dark. Out in the street, he glanced at the sky. It was very early still, but there was a glimmer in the east that suggested the approach of the new day.

He paused for a moment, the stillness of the city in the early predawn catching him off guard as he breathed the still, cool air. No new snow had fallen, and the sky was cloudless, showing a glitter of stars. It was cold, but without the bitter, deadly edge that had been present in recent weeks. Something was changing. Cal could feel the end of winter approaching with the turning of the year.

Nearly all the windows on Sandweaver Street were dark, but here and there the light of a candle glowed in an upstairs room, showing where some merchant was rising to begin the day. Next door to the Emporium, on the right as Cal faced it, Alyn’s bakery was closed and shuttered, but light glowed through chinks in the shutters and the sound of singing, the thump of kneading, and the warm smell of baking showed that the baker was up and about his early tasks as usual.

On the other side of Cal’s shop - the left as he stood looking at it - there was indeed a closed and empty lot, as Loruk had said. Cal had never paid it much attention before, but he looked at it now. It was a faceless shopfront a little larger than his own, with a small apartment upstairs by the looks of the shuttered window above the sloping roof. Black chalk paint had been used to cover the windows from the inside so you couldn’t see in, making the place so featureless and uninteresting that the eye skipped over it, drawn instead to the pretty colors and cheerful sign of the medicinal herbalist’s shop in the next lot over.

Cal smiled to himself as he looked at the scene. In contrast to the dull black of the blank windows next door, Cal’s own shop was a blaze of light, a haze of condensation on the glass blurring the scene inside.

Max had, by the looks of it, lit every candle they possessed, and against the light, through the steamed up windows, Cal could see the figures of Mortex, Hutgyrd, Gretchen, and Laria all crowded into the front area of the shop. As he stood there, the door opened and Laria appeared, grinning from ear to ear.

“What are you doing standing around outside?” she demanded. “Get in here! We’ve got news for you, and coffee!”

The counter was covered in a litter of items which caught Cal’s eye as he entered. The adventurers slapped him on the back, greeting him excitedly, the three with voices all speaking over each other without any regard for the fact that this meant none of them could actually be heard.

Gretchen, silent as ever, beamed at everyone with a smile that gleamed brightly enough to add its own note to the cacophony. The hunters hustled Cal up to the counter.

“Here you go,” Hutgyrd said gruffly. “Take a look at this.”

As he stepped up, he felt something against his left hand. Mortex was pressing a cup of coffee into his hand, a paper cup with the logo of Mephisterion’s grinning gremlin on the side. Some outlets of the grinning gremlin coffee shops opened through the night, serving those whose work meant they needed to be up at all hours. The hunters must have visited one of these on their way up. Cal was grateful as he took a deep swig of the drink - a strong brew plenty of cream and sugar, he noticed with pleasure - and felt the warming, stimulating influence sharpening his senses.

He swallowed, thanked Mortex, and turned his attention to the items laid out on the counter for his perusal.

The adventurers had done better than he’d expected. He looked closer and realized that they’d not just done better than he’d expected - they’d done better even than he could have hoped!

His counter was covered in cores, and from the way they were laid out and the deep, rich color of them, he didn’t need an enchanted eyeglass to see that they weren’t split up across multiples, as they had been before. These were some of the best cores the adventurers had brought him, and there were loads of them. And it wasn’t just cores on the counter. Here, Cal saw a couple of strange-looking bones, and there, a collection of purple feathers. There were vials of dark liquid, and a few nuggets of what looked like gold ore.

And in the center of this impressive haul of loot, laying proudly on the same soft leather bag he’d used when he’d delivered it to Laria, his very own enchanter’s eyeglass gleamed in the candlelight.

Delighted, Cal picked the glass up and held it to his eye, scanning the cores in front of him. A riot of statistical data crowded the view. He saw Level 1 cores, Level 2 cores, and no fewer than four Level 4 cores. Three of them, by the color, were scryer cores, the kind needed for the eyeglass enchantment.

He glanced at the other strange items - the bones, the feathers, the dark vials, and the ore nuggets. He read the descriptions, then with a gasp, took the glass down from his eye.

“Monster parts?” he said. “You’ve brought monster parts back from the hunt?”

Hutgyrd the dwarf nodded proudly. “It’s unorthodox, I know,” he said. “Maybe it’s even a bit of a gray area legally. But the higher-level monsters dropped these when we harvested the cores. When we opened our core collector, we found these items inside as well.”

“We discussed it,” Mortex said. The hissing, eerie creak of his voice not masking his satisfaction. “We agreed that though other enchanters might not find a use for such items, you were more likely to find some creative use for them.”

At that moment, Max came through from the workshop. “Just tidying up a bit through there, and building the fire up,” he said, and the merest suggestion of a wink flickered across his eye as he spoke. Cal took his meaning. Max had been “tidying up” by covering the mass of harvested spider web in the workshop. Despite their friendship with the adventurers, Max had defaulted to the position of secrecy around that. There was no need for the adventurers to know about the new business venture just yet.

“Thanks, friends,” Cal said, beaming at the hunters. “You’ve surpassed yourselves. I had no idea you’d be so successful.”

“Neither did we,” Laria said, quiet pride in her voice as she gazed at the impressive haul. “Apparently, this is the bounty one can access if one goes just a little further. We had to go deeper into the monsterlands than we have before, crossing Westmountain Shore and venturing into the foothills of the mountains. Combined with the tracking power of the eyeglass and a bit more practice with the core collector, I think we can say that we surpassed our own expectations too.”

Cal grinned. “There’s four Level 4 cores here,” he said. His stomach suddenly growled, making its presence felt. “As soon as I’ve had some breakfast, I’m going to enchant you an eyeglass of your own.”