“What am I supposed to do with a tree?”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this one,” I say, my face twisting into a grimace. “This is the best work I’ve ever produced. Don’t downplay it.”

“You’ve mastered the tea I gave you. The concept radiates off it,” Ozana says. She nods curtly. “Good. We can use a few items imbued with innovation for our higher-end auctions.”

“You’re stalling,” I point out.

Ozana frowns, leaning closer to the table. Her shoulders hunch. She taps a fingernail on the top of the glass. “Are those cedars? Red-barked wild strawberry? Lime trees? What’s going on with the black irises down at the base of the trees! You know none of these are native to our city, young man.”

An incredulous snort of laughter escapes before I can restrain myself. Then again, I’ve never been good at showing decorum. “Wow. I didn’t realize you were such an expert on flora.”

“It’s my business to become an expert on anything that I can sell,” Ozana says primly.

“You’re not gonna sell this. You’re well aware of this table’s value,” I reply, straightening out my tunic and trying to appear dignified.

She scowls. “Unfortunately.”

I raise an eyebrow, shocked at her petulant display. “You’ve never been a sore loser. The potion must be more expensive than I expected.”

“I’m not a sore loser.”

“Hah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such candor from you before. You were happy enough to take my bet earlier. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.”

“I’m not. But this monstrosity doesn’t match the rest of my office at all. Now I’ll have to redecorate! Again!” Ozana grumbles.

I smirk. “So you do want it.”

“I’m annoyed, not foolish,” Ozana shoots back. “Didn’t you hear me? I just refreshed my style last month. So inconsiderate, Master Nuri.”

“Make Tener Ras fix it,” I suggest. “He has a good sense of flair.”

“Very well. I’ll see it done.”

“Thank you. Not to be crass, but can we move on to my payment? I’m in a rush today.”

“Yes, yes. Your mana draughts are packed up and ready to go. I also took the liberty of creating a bank note while you worked. I’m not sending you off through the city with a sack of gold the size of your torso. You couldn’t even carry it, anyway.”

“I have my ways,” I say mysteriously.

Ozana gives me a flat look. “Not discreetly. The banknote will slip into your billfold, and it’s woven through with minute enchantments to divert attention away from you. Otherwise, every puffed-up [Thief] and [Swindler] in the city would follow you like a bloodhound on the trail of particularly tempting prey.”

“Thank you,” I say, bowing.

Ozana smiles thinly. “Protecting my own investments, as you mentioned earlier. On that score, I’d send an honor guard with you, but I suspect you want to keep a low profile. Do try to stay out of trouble.”

“That’s not my forte,” I admit.

“Oh, I know. We’ve looked into you, Master Nuri. You’re a complicated man—and unlike any crafter I’ve ever encountered. Enemies seem to pop up like weeds in your wake.”

“Not my fault people try to take advantage of me,” I growl, suddenly annoyed at the turn the discussion is taking. “Don’t poke around in my past.”

“It’s just good business,” Ozana says, dismissing my concerns with a wave of her hand. “But if it makes you feel any better, we’re honoring your trade embargo against Halmuth. That’s not cheap, I might add. We’re operating at a loss by cutting off that trade route. I hope this gamble pays off. I’ll look bad to the other partners if you waste my investment.”

I stare past Ozana, studying a spot on the wall while I try to process the revelation. Part of me recognizes that it’s a subtle threat—she can dig up dirt easily, and use it against me at any time—but I’m surprised that she’d be willing to cut into her bottom line for my sake. I’m more touched by the gesture than I expected.

“You still haven’t seen the best part of the table,” I say, dragging her attention back to the glass masterwork. “Feed it some mana. Go on.”

“Look at you, changing the subject! We’re an auction house. Goods and services are only part of our repertoire. What’s more valuable than information, after all?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I always run into spies,” I grumble.

“At least we’re honest about it, unlike your [Inquisitor] friends,” Ozana says, a little too smugly. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Master Nuri. It’s not attractive, especially not after you’ve burned off all your hair with that hot glass.“

“I didn’t burn myself. I gave myself a haircut because it was getting in my eyes,” I protest, focusing on the safer half of her statement. I stuff down my panic at her revelation. It was inevitable that someone would uncover my link to the [Inquisitors], but I don’t want to talk about it. At least Ozana doesn’t seem antagonistic, so we won’t have to fight.

Not yet, at least.

“Aw, my version is more fun!”

“I’ll take that banknote now,” I say stiffly.

Ozana’s lips curl into a lazy smile. She gives me a knowing look. “What about showing me the rest of your table design? I thought you said you had something special prepared.”

“I do. But I’m short on time.”

“Surely a demonstration is warranted? You’re the one who offered in the first place!” she reminds me.

When I frown, she holds up her hands and laughs. “Fine. No more posturing. I’ll indulge you and add a little mana to the table. Then I suppose I’ll give you the banknote, but only if the show lives up to expectations.”

I cross my arms and don’t answer, waiting for her to get on with testing out the effects of my [Glass Animation]. As far as I know, she hasn’t seen this Skill in action yet, so I’m hoping it’s a pleasant surprise when the birds underneath the clear surface of the tabletop spread their wings and take flight.

A small trickle of Ozana’s mana disappears into the table. Nothing happens. She quirks a quizzical eyebrow. “Hungry beast, huh?”

“It’s a masterwork, not a toy,” I retort.

She shrugs one shoulder. To her credit, she doesn’t quip or argue. Instead, she forms a connection to the glass table and opens up her channels, feeding considerably more mana into the forest and birds than I expected. Finally, she reaches a tipping point.

The diminutive birds burst into action. Their wings flash in the light of a non-existent sun, sparkling in the warm glow of mana. Ozana gasps in delight as the eggs crack open and tiny bird heads emerge from within. The chicks turn toward her, their small beaks open as they plead for food.

“Do the little ones think I’m their mother now?” Ozana asks, a note of wry amusement in her voice. Without waiting for a response, she walks in a slow circle around the table to see if they follow her. Sure enough, the newly-hatched birds latch on to her direction, craning their necks and keeping pace as she glides on silent feet in an orbit around the glass forest.

She tilts her head, staring down at them with brows furrowed. A complicated mix of consternation and wonder flits across her face. She sighs and offers another trickle of mana, and the birds gulp it down like it’s made of grubs or worms.

“Where’s the actual mother bird?” I mutter to myself, joining Ozana by the table and squinting into the dense, vibrant forest.

“I’m confused. Shouldn’t you know since you created it? Aren’t you the Master of this particular masterwork?”

Ozana’s lightly-mocking tone puts me back in familiar territory. I’ve always dealt well with doubters and critics.I draw myself up to my full height and regard her with a stern gaze. “I am more than a puppet master. I’ve given life to my creations. Treat them well.”

Before she can respond, I thrust out my open palm and wait for the promised banknote. She absently slips it out of an inner pocket and hands it over, still peering down at the baby birds and cooing.

I leave her to explore the unexpected wonder of magical glass creatures imprinting on her and march toward the door. Guided by my Domain, I locate the assistant who’s prepared my box of mana draughts. The wooden box is well-made but unassuming, without any lacquer or engravings, likely so it doesn’t draw attention.

I take the precious cargo, tucking it under my arm, and head back to the Menders Campus. I’m not happy about how long I was away from my friends, but at least I accomplished my immediate goals. I’ll make a triumphant return with both the mana and the promise of paying for a miracle potion—assuming Lionel is approved for an emergency dose.

Now I can only pray that it will work. Failing that, I’m pinning my hopes on Rakesh and Melina. The two bookworms are probably driving Mender Uttara crazy with their constant barrage of questions. If an answer exists, then they’ll find it. That’s what I have to tell myself.

I purposefully avoid considering what happens if they fail. I’m not ready to lose any of my friends.

Unlike my earlier visit, a Mender is waiting for me when I arrive. The polite and insincere smile on her face is my first hint that something is wrong, but I force myself to smile and greet her like a civilized person.

My gut clenches when she begins a sentence with “my apologies,” fearing that the worst has happened to Lionel, but I relax as I realize she’s simply telling me that security is not willing to allow me back into the building.

Annoying as the news is, I don’t want to make a scene. I’ve already secured help for Lionel in the form of his Mender teacher, which is the only reason I caused a commotion in the first place. At the very least, the Mender is accommodating. She gives me an update on Lionel’s status and doesn’t prevaricate or withhold information.

Only a single mana draught was approved, yet Melina has kept up her Skill far longer than anyone expected. Otherwise, there’s no change or progress. Mender Uttara is still looking into options.

“The prognosis seems grim,” I say, as calmly as I can so that the Mender won’t be tempted to call for the [Guards]. I’m seething inwardly, but I know it’s not her fault, and I’d rather not gain a reputation as a violent and unreasonable man.

Again she flashes a brilliant, apologetic smile. “Would you like me to check to see if the potion has been approved?”

“No need,” I reply, questing out with my Domain and verifying that Lionel has been moved to a room. He’s resting in a bed nearby, with Melina at his side. I let a hint of my power seep out around me and give her a vicious smile. “Trust me. I’ll be able to tell.”

She shivers involuntarily and shuffles back half a step before her professional demeanor kicks in. The illusion is shattered, however. She’s afraid of me, no matter how quickly she recovers her equilibrium. I know I shouldn’t bully the weak, but I’m properly worked up after all the craziness of the day.

“Please take these to my friends. Melina needs them right away,” I say, handing her the box of mana draughts. “I’ll be right here in case someone needs me.”

“Of course, sir [Mage],” she replies, clutching the box with both hands. “I’ll deliver them right away.”

“See that you do.”

She turns and flees with a muted yelp, scurrying like a mouse running from a hawk. It’s unsettling to see her fear, but also cathartic after what the Menders have put us through. If they don’t find a cure, then I’ll burn this whole place to the ground.