Nyaogi's footsteps reverberated in Zambara's quiet streets as she approached Bammyo's workshop. The night's chill penetrated her cloak, but it was fear that made her shiver. With each step, her worry about hiding her potion supplies grew. Bammyo and his well-stocked workshop was her best bet.

The workshop was a creative sanctuary, cluttered with tools, unfinished projects, and the mingling scents of sawdust and metal. Bammyo, absorbed in his work, looked up with surprise. "Nyaogi! What's the matter?" he asked, cleaning his hands on a shop towel.

Nyaogi inhaled deeply. "Bammyo, I need a favor," she said, her voice betraying her inner conflict. She detailed her plight and the urgency for secure storage. Bammyo's face shifted from concern to caution as she spoke.

Bammyo turned back to his work. He filed a metal bar and didn’t look up. “You use magic in your potions?” Metal shrieked on metal.

“Yes.” The confession lifted a weight.

“I’ve heard they’re strong.” He set the file down on a workbench. “Your potions.” He looked up from his work. “I thought you might be doing something like that. Not a common herbalist.”

Nyaogi shrugged her shoulders. “Well. Now you know.”

He paused, his expression troubled. "Nyaogi, hiding illicit magic is risky, especially if there are Core City officials around." He grimaced. "If they're found, we're both in deep trouble."

She understood his hesitation. Core City's scrutiny had heightened everyone's caution in Zambara. Guilt pricked her for involving Bammyo, yet she was desperate. She looked around at his creations, hoping he'd understand the need behind her request. But as far as she knew, he had all the proper licensing. Maybe he couldn’t understand.

As they talked, a vehicle rumbled by outside, its unique whirring sound briefly infiltrating the workshop's stillness. Bammyo glanced out. "Rear axle needs greasing," he remarked.

“What?” Nyaogi asked.

“The roadwheel that just drove past.”

“Oh.” Nyaogi barely registered his comment, her focus on the dilemma at hand. She waited, hoping Bammyo would grasp the gravity of her situation and agree to help, despite the risk.

“Typical Mubu Motors quality.”

“Right.” Nyaogi's eyes burned with urgency. "Bammyo, I wouldn't be here if there was another way," she said, her voice blending desperation and resolve. "The longer my supplies stay in the tavern, the higher the risk of discovery. And it's not just me at risk; Kairo, completely innocent, could get involved."

“I’m innocent too.”

“I know.” She moved closer, her hands clasped. "I need somewhere safe. Your workshop could be that place. Please, you're my only hope."

Bammyo's face showed his inner struggle. Their friendship mattered deeply. The idea of Core City officials raiding his workshop was frightening.

His eyes swept over the workshop, cluttered with tools and projects. He paused at an old cabinet used for rare woods. Seldom opened, it could be a discreet hiding spot.

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"Nyaogi, I want to help," Bammyo said, eyeing the cabinet. "If I do this, we need a spot they'd never check. Somewhere even I hardly use."

Nyaogi watched, hope and fear mingling in her chest. Bammyo was considering her request, a sliver of hope.

The workshop's atmosphere thickened. "Nyaogi, there's more," Bammyo spoke gravely. "Lately, I've seen unfamiliar faces lurking around. They're not my usual crowd. I wonder if it’s your investigator."

Nyaogi absorbed his words, the reality of their situation sinking in. The stakes were even higher than she realized. They stood in the workshop. Nyaogi's heart plummeted with Bammyo's news of strangers nearby.

“I have all the proper training and licenses. My workshop is clean. Mixing up in illicit business wouldn’t be good for me,” Bammyo said.

The threat of being discovered felt more immediate, more suffocating. She had to persuade Bammyo, and time was running out.

An idea struck her. "Bammyo, I know an elixir that might interest you," she said, pushing fear aside. "It enhances craftsmanship, sharpens focus, steadies the hand. It's not exactly legal, and the herbs are rare. But I could make you a vial for helping me."

Bammyo's interest flickered. A craftsman at his core, the prospect of something that could refine his art had to be compelling. He studied Nyaogi, considering her offer.

After a tense pause, he nodded. "I'll help. Your elixir sounds fair for the risk. Plus, you're my friend. I can't turn you away."

Relief washed over Nyaogi. "Thank you, Bammyo. You won't regret this."

They planned the discreet transfer of her supplies to his workshop under the night's cloak. “I can’t help you move them though,” Bammyo said. “If they’re watching me, that might lead them to you.”

“I can move it alone. Nothing is too heavy.”

Bammyo showed her the old cabinet, explaining his rearrangement plans to fit her potions.

#

Leaving the workshop, Nyaogi allowed a small smile. Danger still loomed from Core City, but she now had hope. Her supplies would be secure in Bammyo's care, hidden from unwanted eyes.

Nyaogi felt a surge of gratitude and a hint of relief. The stress that had tightened around her heart since hearing about Core City investigator arriving in Zambara eased a bit. Bammyo's willingness to help made the looming threat of discovery seem less overwhelming.

As she moved along the street, lit at intervals by kynik light poles connected by wires, Nyaogi's thoughts turned to the upcoming task. She mentally mapped Bammyo's workshop, picturing the best spots to hide her supplies. The cluttered space, with its shelves of wood carvings and tables strewn with tools, was an ideal setting for concealment.

Her focus settled on the old cabinet. It was an excellent hideaway. She began planning how to arrange her items inside, maybe disguising bottles and ingredients as common workshop materials. It was vital that everything looked ordinary, just another aspect of Bammyo's varied workshop.

Hiding her supplies was a huge challenge, but Bammyo's workshop provided a chance. With careful planning and some luck, she might outsmart the Core City official.

Her pace quickened, energized by the planning's intricacies. She was keenly aware of the risk of being watched. Every move, every choice, needed utmost care to evade the ever-present threat of the officials' scrutiny.

The familiar streets of Zambara now took on a new role for Nyaogi. They weren't just paths anymore but potential routes for a covert operation. She mapped out quieter alleys and backstreets in her mind, planning to avoid any attention. Her intimate knowledge of Zambara's lesser-known paths, acquired over years, was now a key asset.

Turning a corner, a clear plan formed in her mind. She would use the night's cover, the darkness becoming her shield against watchful eyes. She pictured her path, choosing the quietest routes and most hidden alleys to reach Bammyo’s workshop undetected.

Everything hinged on this plan. Her craft and future depended on successfully moving her supplies under the veil of night. She would wait for the late hours, when Zambara lay quiet and its people slept. Then, with everything carefully prepared, she would execute her plan.

Just then, the distinct sound of a roadwheel with a squeaky axle cut through the night, passing by her. The sound jolted her. It was a stark reminder of her vulnerability and the possibility of being watched. She quickened her pace, her thoughts now shadowed by the prospect of unseen eyes following her every move.