I had a specific plan if I got to the altar for the growth items, but for this one, I was a little more flexible. An item was far less important to my overall growth than a growth item – which I supposed the name did a good job of implying.

Still, a third or fourth gate tool was something that I’d not turn down easily, and something that could be useful to me for years to come, or even forever. After all, spatial rings were third gate, and it wasn’t like those lost any real value.

All of that meant I wanted to put some good sacrifices down, regardless of which route I went with.

As I worked through the mental list of potential sacrifice items, I called out to Idyll, hoping she was paying enough attention to respond.

“Hey, Idyll! Do you know why sometimes Dusk comes with me, and sometimes she’s sent off to do her own thing?”

“The rewards are always meant to go to familiars as well, since they are a part of a mage’s strength,” Idyll’s voice said, echoing through the chambers. “Which is what the enchantments mark her as. But since there’s no spellbond, only a soul-link, they’re uncertain. He didn’t account for warlocks – they were far less common in his day, and he only ever met one.”

“Oh, interesting,” I said. “Thank you! I asked Elio this, but is there anything I can do to free you?”

“It would require severing me from this world, and reclaiming my power on Ddeaer as a genius loci, rather than a worldspirit,” Idyll said. “You cannot do this now, but if you – or rather, Dusk – gathers enough power, I would appreciate her help.”

“I can’t speak for her,” I said. “But I think she would. Know anything about Elio’s mysterious warning?”

“No. My vision is curtailed by the sage’s orders,” Idyll said, and she sounded rather sullen about it. I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push.

Instead, I started putting things on the altar.

First thing that I placed was my broom. It had served me well, and I was technically still making payments on it, but I was reaching a point where I thought I was beginning to outgrow it. I’d gain the Seven League Step spell once I advanced my spatial mana, and even now, my Immovable Lock and Foxstep gave me a degree of near-flight that was impressive, and would only frow.

After that came a delicate cutting of the Gibbeous Windbush. It was third gate, and powrfully wind aligned. More importantly to me, it was able to grow to fifth gate!

Half of the Diaphanous Dandelions came next, alongside Mist Larkspur. Both were telluric as well, and they were good supporting ingredients.

Then I put down two of the first through fourth gate mana sources for tempest mana that we’d decided to not trade in for auction points. Mana sources had the lowest conversion anyways, so it wasn’t exactly needed.

I did worry that I might just get a potion out of the altar, given how many of my sacrifices were plants, but I had to put that aside for right now.

I hesitated, the thought of alchemy bringing up another idea. It was a bit tenuous, but there were stories of some hags having one…

I placed my larger cauldron into the altar as well, before following up with slices of Blademoss, a Blood Carnation, Emperor’s Tree leaves, Stonesprout, Firecreep, Muddy Armroot, bundles of mana-grass and a single baby Red Star Sapling.

Hopefully that would be enough. It cut into my own growing garden some, but giving away cuttings would just slow their growth, not stop it.

With that done, I glanced around for a lever or dial or something. The thief hadn’t told me how to activate the sacrifice part. Eventually I settled for just threading some mana in.

Sure enough, all of what I’d put down vanished. A moment later, light bloomed on the altar, and a cauldron appeared.

It was large, coming all the way to my waist, and made of thick black metal that looked like cast iron. All in all, it didn’t look especially magical.

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My mana senses told me differently. There were two distinct enchantments running through them, both powered by what was distinctly hag mana.

I had to suppress a snort. Did Idyll have a sense of humor? Or had she just gotten what I was going for?

The first enchantment running through the metal was the simple cauldron enchantment. Fourth gate density, so it would be able to serve me for a good while.

The second, however?

A flight enchantment.

It was stronger than my own. I didn’t think its output could reach the same top speeds as the model Orykson had offered, but it was close. Importantly, though, its wind-harvesting spell that it used for recharge was far, far better.

Based on the fact it was slowly sucking in environmental energy even as it hovered, I thought it would actually recharge itself constantly, rather than needing a discreet charging and flying mode.

I doubted it would be enough to allow it to sustain itself infinitely – though that was possible, it took a strong generation core, stronger than I thought I’d be able to get from the Idyll-Flume.

I let out a low whistle, and was glad I’d sacrificed so much to the altar now.

I placed a Capture Moment and Spatial Anchor spell in the cauldron, then put it in the cottage, in the same place where I normally placed my large cauldron. A moment later, a pair of doors appeared. One matched the front gates almost perfectly, while the other was the entry to a set of stairs. I pushed the gates open, and appeared just outside.

Dusk was already out there, wearing a tiny cape. I glanced down at it and ran my mana senses over it.

“Interesting,” I said. “Another flight artifact?”

She cheered her agreement, telling me that she could fly with her own mana, but it was rough and inefficient, mixing control of gravity, force, and air, but having too many other aspects in her mana to make perfect use of it.

She’d never be a soundbreaker, one of those lucky few arcanists with tempest, telluric, and physical mana, that much was certain.

But this artifact wasn’t one like mine, providing a flight of its own. Instead, it worked to integrate with her spiritual dominion, and allow her to more easily use that to manipulate the forces she was controlling, the pressure differentials and wind zipping.

Not long after she finished explaining, Kene and Siobhan stumbled out. Siobhan was wearing a collar that distinctly glowed with mental mana, but I couldn’t notice anything off about Kene.

“Communication collar?” I guessed, and they nodded.

“Yep. Our bond gives us a general sense for one another, but this should help convey images, senses, and even let us see through one another’s eyes.”

“Nice!” I said, and they grinned.

“What about you?”

They waved, and a box appeared. It was made of smooth, dark wood, inlaid with bronze and green jade, and they slid the top off to reveal that it was spatially expanded to the size of a duffel bag, but more interestingly to me, it radiated with early fourth gate power, made from a mana type I didn’t recognize, but that was very heavily slanted to space. Some other aspects – it was clearly beast magic – but otherwise I couldn’t tell.

“What is it?” I asked them.

In response, they shut the lid and dropped the box. It vanished entirely – not pulled into a spatial ring, simply… Gone.

I focused my full mana senses on the space where it was, and I thought I sensed a small spatial distortion, but it was so minor that I wasn’t sure if I was placebo-ing myself into sensing it.

“Voidbox,” they said. “Similar to a storage ring, but it’s not bound to a ring or a spatial anchor, but instead to my ungated mana.”

I sensed a brief flicker of mana, and the box re-appeared in his hands.

“Great for smuggling,” I said before I could help myself.

“I should have known,” Kene said. “It started with your serial breaking-and-entering, now it’s moved on to smuggling. How long until you become a criminal mastermind?”

I rolled my eyes, and they nodded.

“It is, but it’s more useful to deter thieves. Plenty of black alley ways to break open a spatial ring, but it’s a lot harder to crack open one of these, they’re basically the next best thing to being a spatial mage yourself. I’m going to put my valuables in here.”

I nodded my approval as Kene put the coins and their share of the mana sources we’d kept inside, along with a few of the items they’d be using later, to avoid mana-toxicity.

“What did you two get?” Kene asked.

Dusk explained her item again, and then I gave Kene a sheepish look as I summoned the cauldron. They gave me a flat look, and I shifted.

“Really?” they asked, their tone dry. I thought there was some humor there too, but I wasn’t entirely sure. “Did you convince Idyll to give us a hag magic item on purpose?”

“No!” I said. “No, I would never. I just sacrificed all my flying stuff, and a bunch of alchemy stuff too.”

“So you were going for a hag vehicle?”

This time I was more sure they were joking, so I – very gently – slugged them in the arm.

“Hey!” they protested, rubbing it.

We made camp that evening, not wanting to make Dusk’s true nature or power obvious, and not long after we’d settled in, we were approached by a pair of familiar faces.

“Welcome to the grand show!” Liz greeted, her chipper demeanor earning her scowls from the tired groups around us. Travis greeted us much more simply, by nodding.

“Thanks,” Kene said. “You two preparing for the second floor?”

“Yep,” Liz agreed. “Did you all want to go in together? With all three of our golden rods, we’d be able to make great progress.”

I was thrown off for a second by her ‘golden rod’ bit, before I realized she meant the sticks we’d won from Elio’s trial. I glanced at Kene.

“What do you think?” I asked them.