Roz kept her arm in mine as we walked. The division between the merchant district and the harbor was marked by flags hanging from strings stretched between the buildings. Triangle flags, square flags, flags of all shapes but none larger than two hand spans.

“These are flags of our trading partners,” she explained, but Harorin had already told me all about it. “That bright yellow and white flag there?”

She pointed high, and my eyes followed to find the one she was referring to. I didn’t recognize it, but the colors matched the flag of the elven kingdom Selanatheas, north of my home country and west of Sørgentsen. My mother’s home country.

“That one’s from a trading partner in Shemka’len,” Roz said, “the capitol city of Selanatheas in the north. The one beside it is from a trading company in Washalasha, the capitol city of the Sevenwinds in Lathyr.”

To most people, the cities, the kingdoms, and the continent she mentioned would be words lacking much meaning. Most people never had the chance to stop and look at a map, let alone study the different flags of different international trading companies. Even amongst the nobility, I doubted anyone expected their children to memorize such a thing since Father hadn’t found it fitting for his.

She wasn’t just any member of the nobility. Perhaps from a recently elevated merchant family. Or a particularly trade-enthusiastic territory. I needed more information.

“Have you been?” I asked. “To Shemka’len or Washalasha?”

She blinked. “Do not very many people travel quite that far?” When I said nothing, she shrugged. “I guess not then. I suppose for many there wouldn’t be much reason to travel to Selanatheas or the Sevenwinds. Ah, family. Yes, I have family in Selanatheas.”

Was she lying to impress me? This was new and amusing. Did she not have a persuasion skill like [Silver Tongue]? I’d only met one noble who’d chosen to replace it. The skill was too beneficial in high society to go without. I’d learned that from Lando early and didn’t let him forget it.

Harorin had gone without it, though.

I nodded as if I’d accepted her reason at face value. “It is an eleven kingdom, and you’re clearly elven. That makes sense.”

“Right. Of course.” She flushed. Yes, she was reminding me of Harorin more and more. A poor liar without a hint of ill-intent. Did I have a soft spot for fair-skinned, fair-haired elves?

She patted my forearm. “What about you? You seem familiar with them? Have you been to either?”

“Familiar with them, yes,” I said and gave her the story I’d rehearsed with Helas as we meandered down the main streets of the harbor district.

Instead of the carts and shops of the merchant district, merchants here had colorful cloth-covered tables and lop-sided umbrellas. As the sun set, lanterns interspersed with the flags above started to glow the faint magic until igniting into a small, contained flame.

The stronger the smell of the sea in the air, the louder the harbor got in the distance, and the more crowded it got between the rows of table stalls lining the streets. In the busiest neighborhood square in the shadow of the overlook at the city center, Roz found a door in an alleyway that revealed a set of stairs leading down to a tunnel.

We descended into near darkness, a warm glow coming from under another door at the bottom of the stairs. When I pushed it open, the sweet aroma of spices and grilled meats encouraged my mouth to water. This should’ve been the first place we checked for potion supplies.

The tunnel opened into a huge underground cavern that seemed to go on endlessly in all directions. There were stalls lining the street, a cluster of carts set up in the middle, and a row of tables choking the walkways between them. Lanterns dangled on lines tied between the stalls and carts but none of their light reached the cave’s ceiling.

There were also way more people wearing robes and hoods despite the heat, looking over their shoulder or tightening their hold of their purchases. Chatter was kept hushed, and everyone seemed to have a destination in mind as opposed to the tourists who fell into every ploy designed to trap them.

“There’s more than one entrance,” Roz said, “but I prefer this one because it’s the closest to Zell’s. She’s a little… Well, you’ll see. Let me handle it. She’s a master of her craft, and so she can get away with playing favorites.”

“So you have a plan?”

“It’s not my first time here,” she confessed. Despite her earlier impulse to lie, she was also a little too trusting. On the other hand, perhaps I was the one being too trusting. “I came prepared. Like I said, you’ll see.”

“Was picking up someone from a potion shop in the arts district part of your plan as well?” For whatever reason, this caused her to flush, and I couldn’t help but grin.

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“Not exactly,” she said, “but when I see an opportunity, I don’t pass it up. You don’t seem much different?”

I chuckled. “You got me there. I don’t even know if you gave me your real name.”

“We’re both taking a little bit of risk here then,” she added with a slight edge to her voice, a slight jut to her jaw. “Zell’s is just over here. Don’t forget to let me do the talking, okay?”

Someone saying that to me never served them well.

We slid between two tables selling vibrant scarves and shouldered through a heavy wood door beneath a sign that read ZELL’S LOT OF POTIONS. The shop was cramped, and even with the flames of dozens upon dozens of lanterns hanging from the wood rafters of the stall, the shadows claimed the lower shelves everywhere I looked. On the other shelves, no two bottles, vials, satchels looked the same.

Looking around, there didn’t seem to be any sense of organization to the shop. Not alphabetical. Not by ingredient type or rarity. Not by potion types. Moonshadow fern grew in a pot next to beeswax candles. A basket of labradorite shards shared a shelf with satchels of cedar bark and jasmine petals.

Despite that, the shop buzzed with activity. Near the front, a queue formed at a counter where a frazzled worker took payment while a handful of others raced around the shop to fulfill orders. Roz ignored all of it.

With her hand settled on my arm, she waltzed past them all to the back of the shop. I had to duck under a few potted plants hanging from the ceiling among the lanterns. She pushed back a beaded curtain to reveal a backroom inventory even messier than the shop.

“P-pardon my timid intrusion…” a soft, wobbling voice called somewhere deeper inside. “But I bear a … Ah, alas… Forgive my fumbling words, does any soul abide in this twilight embrace?”

“Auntie Srax, it’s Roz.” She mazed through the room and, sitting in back, greeted a lizardfolk with charcoal-stained fingertips and a vibrant orange-and-turquoise set of silky robes.

Srax adjusted her glasses, thick rimmed, and squinted in our direction. “Oh, Roz, m-my sweet rosy-hued niece. Woe upon my heart, forgive this h-humble artist of her faults, for bearing the b-burden of f-forgetfulness like a wounded sigh. Did my heart’s fleeting d-dance of time escape her memory?”

Roz leaned into me and whispered, “By her heart, she means Zell.”

“My sincerest apologies for this unbidden lapse, for permitting forgetfulness to g-grace her steps. If you’d allow me…” Srax started to stand, her wooden chair scraping backward against the floorboards.

“No, no.” Roz hurried to the lizardfolk’s side and gave her a hug. “I’m here to see if Auntie Zell still has some lunar dew in stock.”

“O-oh.” Srax returned the hug, but when she pulled back, she moved some pink hair out of Roz’s face. “That… L-let me see…”

The lizardfolk turned to her desk, looking over her chaos of notes, drawings of herbs and jewels, and reference books. Her charcoal-blackened finger slid down the page. “M-my treasured journal holds witness to its presence. Lunar dew, coveted and rare, my diligent hands secured its celestial essence but five days past. For you, dear seeker niece, a precious portion might linger…But… n-none have yet worked?”

Interesting. If I was interpreting the chaos of phrases coming out of the woman's mouth, it seemed that I wasn’t the only one making a repeat attempt to summon a god.

Roz shook her head and helped Srax to sit again. “I think it’ll work this time though.”

“Because of the handsome boy?”

“Yes,” Roz said, and I made sure to take a moment to respectfully greet the woman, “because of Therzin. I felt like I was really close last time. Maybe all I need is someone to do it with. Just so happens, he’s hoping to do the same. We met at the exact moment we needed each other, and that coincidence feels like the meddling of the gods.”

Meddling of the gods? My ass.

I bit my tongue because it’d be rude to say something here. To question Roz’s belief in the gods would likely get me asked to leave, and she was half-right.

This was an opportunity for me.

Srax told Roz where to find the owner of the shop. Upstairs, through the second floor dwelling they called home to the back, down another set of stairs to the basement. The dark dampness and musk tasted familiar.

The ceilings were low enough down here that I had to hunch and lean sideways as I followed Roz through the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with ingredients and potions mixed with candles. Some potions glowed in the dim light, others shimmered and luminesced as we passed. The contents of a jar here or there seemed so fresh they were likely still alive.

Definitely a potions workshop. Helas would love this.

“Auntie Zell?” Roz called out, following a dim light to a hidden corner outfitted as an office. A desk atop a plush rug, shelves of well-organized ingredients, cauldrons and tools of all sizes—all of it reminded me of Helas’s basement in Bolstaor.

“Is that the sweet voice of my niece I hear?”

A brown-skinned human stood with her hands deep into the pristine white coat she wore over her robes of clashing patterns, her headscarf also a complement to neither. Earrings of various precious stones accentuated her long neck and the way she held her chin high.

“What has brought you here to see me yourself?” the woman asked.

“Auntie Zell,” Roz called to her again, moving to her quickly to hug and persisting even when it seemed like the older woman wanted to be released.

No wonder she hadn’t wanted me to say anything.

“I wish I could just say it’s a casual visit, but I need a favor.”

“A favor? You already know—”

Roz interjected, “I brought you moonflower elixir.”

My eyes widened, but I stopped myself from reaction more than that.

“—Oh.” A shaky breath escaped Zell, and she put a hand on her chest as she steadied herself on her desk. “Well, this has certainly brightened my mood! My dearest niece, I do love it when you visit me like this. What’s this favor you need?”

Helas would’ve had a similar reaction. It took a decade to create moonflower elixir. Not many potions called for it as an ingredient, so it was hard to find. The type of ingredient where Helas knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who could get it.

“I need a vial of lunar dew.”

Zell marched away and returned with a small satchel. “From my special, personal stash. Incredibly potent. You may want to work up something for the effects.”

Roz beamed. “Of course, Auntie.”

They traded ingredients, no further questions were asked, and we left without needing to pay. This was turning out better than I could’ve hoped.

“You’ll come to mine, then?” Roz asked. “My flat is just north of here a few blocks.”

“That works for me,” I said.

She gave me a soft smile. “Don’t think you can murder me once we get inside. I’m not weak. I could handle you in my sleep. Got it?”

I put my hands up in defense. “You’ve kept me tame so far.”

“You would look good in a leash. I’ll give you that.”

I could only laugh.