“Not only does your analogy not make sense, what you’re trying to say is also incorrect,” Shena said. “Salmon carps have nothing to do with the transformation of mana. It’s no wonder Cillian doesn’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

“Shena, for the love of whichever screwed-up Moon you worship, shut up!” Remy said. “I don’t care how your self-taught method explains mana transformation. My method is how every normal person learns to weave mana. The salmon carp analogy is the simplest instruction to get Cillian imagining the right things.”

I leaned on my arm and stared at the sprawling ghetto outside our wagon. An orange-tinted cloudy sky of an early evening covered the globe. The dirt path had evolved into far bumpier and more uncomfortable cracked cobblestone. Fenced-off tenements and shops surrounded the street. Buildings were constructed at a comfortable distance from each other, while stalls and tents crammed between. The alleys grew more cramped as we traveled closer to the city.

I paid attention to the argument with half an ear. My memory was more than tangled with unprocessed magical knowledge that had yet to set home in long-term memory. Nobody was supposed to learn as much as I had today. The sheer amount of information was slowly souring even the girls’ moods.

“Maybe it’s time for a break,” Remy said, sensing I wasn’t following. “It’s risky to mention magic inside the city, considering the state of our relationship.”

Most building facades beside the main road were of wood. The lucky few had painted walls with tile roofs, but the neighborhood was by no means wealthy. Our path was dusted free of sand and garbage, but the whole place was well overdue for renovations.

Remy pulled the frontmost tarp open for a better view, past our driver and the horses. The mixed traffic ahead was just cramped enough to slow the horses to a walking pace. “Arkber,” she said. “The City of Lost Thieves.”

Ahead of us, half a dozen marble spires loomed from behind a stone wall. The spires’ reflective surfaces cast apathetic glares at the slums like the beacons of a lighthouse. I knew immediately that the wall wasn’t built to protect the city from invaders. It was built to protect the wealthy districts from their poorer counterparts.

“City of Lost Thieves?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

“Locals claim the name comes from the hopeful thieves who lose themselves in the hope of swindling the Royal Treasury,” Remy said. “They say the slums were constructed as hideouts for thieves looking to scour the walls for weaknesses, to rob the treasuries inside. Everyone else knows the locals to be liars. The thieves aren’t lost at all. They’re all busy killing each other and pickpocketing to pay off drug debts.”

Remy closed the curtains and turned back to face me. “Watch your pockets, Cill. Kroses Sol might be known as a safe country, but even the best cattle leave sour scraps. Arkber has long kept the role of a rotting piece of land nobody wants to enter. The mess that no House wishes to fix.”

Despite the warnings, the streets were free of active brawls. No suspicious hooded stares covered dark alleys, and no cultists jumped to attack me. In fact, most bystanders, ragged as their appearances were, wore smiles on their faces. Children played behind fences, while stalls saw customers.

The glance of a woman at a window was directed at our wagon. At me. I quickly withdrew my head back to the comfort of our wagon, startled by her look.

I promised to give this my all, I thought. The phrase had become almost like a mantra I had to repeat to avoid falling back to my fears. I intended to keep my word, though I had yet to decide the extent of my goals. Did I simply wish to learn the ways of magehood and call it a life, or did I also have to become comfortable with the more awful parts of the adventurer’s lifestyle?

I didn’t know, but I knew no goals would be achieved easily.

For the next few minutes, the girls argued with the driver about where they were supposed to meet Darko. Nobody seemed to have a clear idea, but the driver’s stubbornness overpowered the girls. Without room for debate, we parked at a canopied courtyard of what I thought was a hotel or inn. The driver collected payment from Remy, then got to work stabling his horses.

Remy sighed. “Darko said he would ‘find the wagon.’ Isn’t our appointment scheduled in four or so hours from now?”

“Darko hates wasting time,” Shena said. “More so, he hates when his underlings waste time. He’s not going to let us sit around for long.”

“What do you think we’re doing next?” Remy asked. “The urn has long reached Darko’s requested amount of souls. We are famous enough to be recognized in every guild across the country. Is there something he still needs to do?”

“I can’t imagine we’re doing anything but meeting your royalty,” Shena said. “But I’m sure Darko has some nonsense brewed up. I can’t say I’m excited for either option.”

For a moment, the wagon stayed in silence. I found myself sitting in my corner again, lost in thought. Nothing important. Just the same worries about my future again. For someone who used to call himself a businessman, I sure was skittish about all this. No matter how many promises I made, I found it impossible to get myself pumped up for the upcoming events.

“Cill, are you alright?” Remy asked. She looked uncomfortable. “I noticed, um, you looked a bit low earlier. And, uh, still do.”

I raised my head. “Sorry. It’s a million things making me nervous. The city, Darko’s plan, the King. And my lack of sleep. And I’m not lying this time.”

“Have I been a good teacher?” Remy asked. “Am I too bad at this, after all?”

“No!” I said. “You’ve been great. Thank you. I’m doing as well as I am only because of your help.”

Remy didn’t look as if she believed me but didn’t argue.

“I’m sorry for my remarks,” Shena said. “You two would do a lot better if I wasn’t complaining this whole time.”

“No, you two have nothing to do with my moods, okay?” I said. “Please believe me, and don’t blame yourselves. If anything, the few moments of not moping have happened only thanks to your support.”

Neither of them knew how to react, and I realized I had probably revealed too many honest thoughts. I looked away.

I appreciated that the girls cared for me. Of course I did, but I would have appreciated it more if they didn’t speak about it. Coming up with excuses for depressive moods was just about the most embarrassing conversation topic available.

Luckily, the awkward silence didn’t last for a moment longer, as the sound of chatter outside approached our wagon.

“My father is a well-contacted man,” a woman said. “Know that in case you attempt anything.”

“I’m attempting to buy clothes,” an unmistakable man’s voice responded. Darko pushed aside the rear tarp of our wagon and spoke to the woman from over his shoulder. “Do I have to pay extra still for you to not suspect me of murder?”

“I will apologize only after our business is done and I am back at work with my head intact,” the woman said. She glanced into the carriage from outside. Behind her, a burly man acted as an escort or bodyguard. “Who is the subject in question?”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Give us a moment alone,” Darko said. He hopped into the wagon and closed the curtains behind him. He grinned. “Greetings, my good friends. How was the trip?”

“Fantastic, for all but Shena’s presence,” Remy said.

“Nothing unusual then,” Darko said. He spoke quietly, words masked by the horses’ snorts and laughter from outside. “How’s our newbie? Have you been learning well, Cill?”

“Cill has been absolutely perfect,” Remy said. “No grumbles or complaints. He has been learning well.”

“Agreed,” Shena said. “He has stayed true to his word.”

“Perfect.” Darko sent me a grin. I looked away in embarrassment.

“Everything looks good inside the walls,” Darko continued. “It doesn’t seem like the constables want to arrest us for the church burnings just yet. I’ve booked us a stay at Sapphire’s Inn. The inn will act as our meeting spot for the time we have.”

“He’s serious,” Remy said softly to my ear. “Darko without jokes is not someone you want to mess with.”

“That said, we’ve got serious obstacles all around,” Darko said. “Girls, I need you two to locate a cultist establishment. We have to clear at least one before the audience.”

“What?” Shena gushed. “We’ve got, what, four hours? You want to find and clear a cultist base in four hours?”

“Well, uh,” Darko said, rubbing his cheek. “I sort of promised Prince Vitek that we would prove our competence by subsiding a cultist operation or two before the King has time to send the Prince on his merry way right under Daphine’s teamwork.”

“You promised what?” Shena asked.

“We need to capture a few officials, that’s all,” Darko said. “If you could locate one of their hangouts, that would be great.”

“This might just be impossible,” Shena said with a sigh. “But I will try.”

Darko nodded, then turned to me. “Remy. I’m borrowing Cill for a while. You’ll have him back by tonight.”

Remy raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“I believe I am,” Darko said.

“Learning this particular subject is a full-time occupation with repercussions for failure,” Remy said with a stern look. “You can’t just borrow him whenever you please.”

“You’ve had days already,” Darko said. “I’m sure our newbie will be taught better after a break. I need to teach Cill some things of my own.”

Remy gave us both a look, then sighed. “No more than a few hours. We’ll need to start for real by the end of today.”

“You haven’t started for real yet?” Darko asked.

“Cill’s chords were exhausted,” Remy said. “And his knowledge in the field is still far too lacking. Practical attempts can only start once he truly understands what he’s getting into.”

Darko bit his lip, then said, “We better be quick, then. Cill, come with me. Your first mission is an easy one.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, concerned. I sensed no opportunities to argue for a longer break. Without grumbles, I followed Darko out of the carriage.

The sun-shaded courtyard was surrounded by stables on all sides. Most of the space was taken by parked carriages. In the middle, two plump men sat on a round table over coffee, studying our direction. I pretended they didn’t exist.

The woman waiting outside cast me a look. She was short-haired and in her mid-twenties, wearing a clean silk skirt and a rose-adorned jacket. By far the most lavish outfit I had seen in the city. “This is the fellow?” she asked.

“I did mention I’ve got a weird one,” Darko said. “Think you can dress him up?”

The woman approached with a serious look easily mistaken for a frown. I had no time to ask for introductions before she was picking at my clothes, examining every inch of my outfit and appearance, from my feet to the shape of my sweaty chin.

“Your shirt,” she said. “Take it off.”

“What?” I asked.

“Measurements,” she said. “Or do you prefer jackets triple your size?”

“Uhm,” I said. I ignored my body’s wishes of protest and took off my cloak and shirt.

The woman pulled out a measuring tape and got to work tying it around various parts of my body. I hoped I didn’t smell too bad. Most likely, my hopes were far-fetched. The last time I showered was light years ago.

“He’s thin for a man,” the tailor said, speaking towards Darko. “We tend to require extra for unique sizes. I’ll deduct the fee from your… earlier contributions. When do you wish to see your outfit? The less we have to hurry, the better the outcome.”

“I need the man dressed within two hours,” Darko said.

The tailor scowled.

“However, I would prefer if you conjured some clothes right now,” Darko added.

She took a deep breath. “A tailored outfit is out of the question, then.”

“Don’t you have anything that fits him?” Darko asked.

She held my shirt, studying it. “I could get him dressed. But I am afraid our selection for his size is bested in material by the fabric he currently wears. Two hours is not enough to modify an existing piece to fit him, let alone tailor an original piece. Anything to prepare him for a ‘distinguished meeting’ would require a fortnight at the very least. No amount of money can expedite this, lest you find a shop with a larger warehouse. I am sorry.”

“We are adventurers,” Darko said. “Anything better than a worn-out garderobe carpet will cover him just fine. Preferably something that doesn’t stand out.”

“We could cover this man in the most basic of brown tunics and he would still appear out of place,” the tailor said. “Anything short of full coverage with a mask to cover his identity will stand out.”

“I need his face to show,” Darko said. “Dress him as best you can. I leave my trust to you.”

The tailor crossed her arms. “I do not enjoy having promises placed in my mouth. But very well. I will find the best outfit I can.”

Darko nodded. “Oh, also find him a staff. A crude one, but make sure it’s real with magical properties.”

The woman lifted her eyebrows. “And in what depth of the sea would this man require a staff?”

“Costume party,” Darko said. “Look, I’ll pay for the service, just don’t ask questions.”

The woman sighed. “Very well. Visit the store in two hours. I will have the outfit prepared.”

“Perfect,” Darko said. He pulled out a silver coin from his pocket and handed it to the woman. “The price for silence. Your ‘well connected’ father will not hear of our transaction.”

The woman stared at the coin, then at Darko. “Who are you?”

“You’ll see,” Darko said. “I suspect we’ll be famous here within the upcoming days.”

“If you’re planning an attack, I’m reporting you to the constabulary.”

“You don’t have to worry.” Darko grinned. “Meet you in two hours.”

With one last suspicious stare, the woman was off along with her escorts.

“Well, then,” Darko said. “Two hours. We’ve got a lot of work to do, Cill. Let’s not wait around.”

He stepped out of the courtyard and onto the streets of Arkber. His nonchalant step expected me to follow, or I’d be left behind. I put on my shirt and cloak with haste, then rushed after him, walking in his shadow.

Eyes were already drawn to me and my appearance. Every other passerby wanted a glance, and there was nothing I could do to stop their prying eyes. Darko’s self-righteous posture was all that protected me from a possible trampling crowd running my way.

“Ahh, Arkber,” Darko said. “The absolute worst city in Kroses Sol by popular vote and reputation. The nightlife here is great, I promise.”

I walked after him. My focus was spent on making sure I wouldn’t be left behind. “Who was that woman?”

“Just a tailor I snatched up,” Darko said. “We don’t have time to work with familiars.”

“And, uh, forgive me for asking, but why do I need a staff? Remy said I wouldn’t need one in months.”

Darko’s face grew serious. “Don’t speak of that topic in public. You never know who’s listening. And you never know who might arrest us if you reveal the wrong things.”

I gulped and shut my mouth. My eyes wandered to Darko’s feet.

“Keep your head up,” Darko said. “We’ll talk more at our destination. I’ve rented a place to talk. I promise to reveal everything you want to know.” He paused. “And when we get there, I’ll offer you one last chance to reconsider your stay before your future is nailed to lies.”