With a gasp, I come back to myself. I’m lying on the cold tile floor of the suite’s shared common room. I blink, take a few deep breaths, and finally sit up. Despite my fears, no metaphysical aches or pains assault me.
In fact, now that I’ve finished the bizarre purge, the soul-searing pain of my impromptu surgery has disappeared entirely. I stretch gingerly, but aside from a few cramps from passing out in an odd position, I’m fine. I expected to feel far worse. Weaker. Incomplete somehow, after cutting out a portion of my power. Yet I feel better than I have in ages. My emotions in particular are more like a calm lake and less like a raging maelstrom.
Just how badly did the corrupted form of violence influence me? Wonder and shame vie for first place in my heart as I consider my actions. Without the wakeup call from Avelina, I might not have realized what I’d been struggling against lately. The difference between now and then is immense. No longer is every waking moment a fight to stay calm and composed.
I stand up and fetch a glass of water for my parched throat. All the work in my inner world took a lot out of me, but it was worth it to rid myself of the corruption. I never knew that a concept could be twisted like that. Perhaps I should have spent more time studying the strange effects of the Rift back in the Old Keep.
I place the glass back on the counter, absently noting the lack of consistency in the craftsmanship. It’s been a long time since I made something as simple as a cup. I turn it around in my hand, observing the uneven thickness of the glass. Maybe I’ll replace the inn’s set with something nicer. A quick stop by the Orpheus House studio should do the trick.
A genuine smile stretches across my face at the thought of returning to the hot shop. I’ve got time. I don’t know how to fix Lionel, and my friends are keeping him company. Meanwhile, I’ve run full tilt for so long that I barely know what to do with myself when not crashing headlong from one impossible task to the next. A moment to catch my breath now that I have a brief break in the chaos is probably healthy.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve eaten, changed into clean clothes, and stretched out the last of the knots in my muscles from collapsing on the floor and sleeping in an awkward position. I jog all the way to the Orpheus, excited to get to work. Making something simple—not another masterwork table—will help ground me.
When I show up on the block where the massive, densely-enchanted Orpheus House dominates the cityscape, a group of wealthy employees from the Orpheus greet me. They look like they’ve been waiting there a while, keeping watch for my return. As soon as I come into view, they run over with strained faces, decorum thrown to the wind, and mob me in the middle of the street.
“Honored Master Nuri! Please accept our hospitality,” a corpulent man begs. He wipes a trail of sweat off his forehead with a pocket handkerchief, all the while regarding me with his deep-set hazel eyes shining with undisguised avarice. His crimson waistcoat is embroidered in gold, and the clasps across the front are all encrusted with gaudy gems.
“Ozana sent you?” I ask.
The rotund man exchanges a nearly-imperceptible look with his colleague, who clenches his jaw and glances away without speaking. Without the significant boost to my senses afforded by my Domain, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the byplay.
He clears his throat and pastes on a charming smile. “Not precisely, but we share mutual interests. My friends and I work hand-in-hand with her department. We’d like to commission you to make furniture for the Orpheus.”
As annoying as their politicking is, I don’t lash out. Instead, I consider the implications of their words, and settle for a half-smile. “For the Orpheus? Or for you personally?”
“Both, ideally,” he responds.
“I appreciate your honesty,” I say, enjoying the ability to talk without the constant urge to lash out. “Go on. I’m listening.”
His smile widens. Mana expands from him in a soft bubble. Fascinated by the unusual runic activations I see while Viewing his Skill in action, I let the energy wash over me like a wave of happy thoughts and warm memories. Instantly, I feel predisposed to listen more closely to his sales pitch.
“We’ll offer you half again as much as Ozana paid you previously if you bring your work to us first. A fair price. You’ll not find a better deal for your wares!”
“I imagine not,” I say wryly.
“Laitu,” he introduces himself, placing a broad palm on his chest and inclining his entire rotund torso. Sunlight flashes off his jewelry as he moves.
I squint against the reflected light. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Nuri, as you know. Glass-maker and monster-slayer.”
Laitu’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at my unexpected introduction. His silk pocket handkerchief makes a return as pats his face again to deal with the deluge. “Please, allow me to provide you with a tour of our offices before we return to your workshop. We’d love to strike up a working partnership.”
Out of habit, I bite my tongue before I respond with a scathing remark. To my great relief, however, there’s no surge of anger. Still, I’m particularly pleased with my restraint when I don’t shatter the gentle compulsion of his salesmanship Skill by crushing it with my Domain. Instead, I nod and smile.
“Tea is acceptable before I begin my work,” I answer after a brief delay, and he breaks out into a toothy grin once more.
Let him make an offer. If Ozana values my work, then she’ll counter it. In the meantime, I’ll play coy until Rakesh can sit down with all parties involved and properly negotiate a contract. It occurs to me that if I’d followed that policy all along, then I wouldn’t have gotten myself into so many messes. He’ll ensure that the contract is heavily in my favor and no one takes advantage of me.
“Right this way, Master Nuri!” Laitu announces happily. He beckons for me to follow, and I allow him and his cadre to carry me along to an entrance on the side of the Orpheus.
Unlike the front entrance, the side door is barely warded apart from security measures. It’s still an intimidating cluster of engravings, but otherwise lacks the arrays for detecting any persons of interest like those embedded in the polished marble floors of the main entrance. I’m not sure if I should be flattered to bypass the scrutiny of the main entrance, or disappointed to miss out on the pomp and ceremony of the extravagant welcome I receive as an honored guest.
As soon as we pass through the invisible barrier, which elicits a slight shiver like the cool touch of an evening breeze in late spring, the ostentatious decorations of the grand building all but disappear. Utilitarian lines and sensible stairways replace the gaudy facade that wraps around the outside of the Orpheus, though the space is still massive. Dozens of people bustle back and forth, all intent on their tasks.
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The message is clear. Those who enter through this door are here to work. Leave the theatrics to less important people. Here is the beating heart of the Orpheus!
A wry smile carves itself across my lips as I march up multiple flights of stairs. By slow degrees, I allow myself to relax despite how much I dislike getting caught up in the machinations of various factions. Still, I’ll play along as graciously as I can while Laitu tries to pull one over on Ozana. For now, I vow to enjoy the experience instead of storming ahead and leaving only wreckage behind.
Look at me! Practically civilized.
Doorways blur together as we pass by. Unassuming and unadorned, they clearly spell out a story. Laitu occupies a less-prominent position than the one Ozana enjoys. His crew must perform valuable work if they’re able to match her prize money, however. I shouldn’t assume that the relative lack of outward opulence means more than it does. His personal uniform is certainly costly.
Moments later, we arrive at our destination, and a pair of [Doormen] provide entry to the work spaces on the fifth floor. Inside, I find a surprisingly spacious office, though it’s broken up into sets of interconnected desks. They lack the elegance that Tener Ras managed to achieve in a smaller, less ostentatious space. Everywhere I look, bric-a-brac and paintings meet my gaze.
Mismatched artwork clutters the walls, and an eclectic collection of trinkets on the side tables kills off any hope of cohesive interior design. A large mahogany desk juts out halfway into the room. Without being told, I immediately assume it’s Laitu’s seat of honor.
Thankfully, the tea that Laitu’s lackeys serve me is exceptional. I murmur my thanks for the offered cup, watching in fascination as it shifts between green and red colors every half a minute. Carrying an earthy complexion without tasting like a mixture of mud and burnt tree bark, the tea is genuinely delicious, if unsettling to look at for too long. No mysterious concepts swirl in its depths, to my profound regret. Nonetheless, the cup is pleasantly warm against my hand, and my disposition improves even further while I’m drinking.
After a moment of quiet indulgence to savor the flavors, I set the cup down with a slight clink and let out a satisfied sigh. Then, before Laitu hurts himself by smiling too hard, I begin with my opening salvo.
“I understand that the Orpheus supplies the Menders with their alarm systems. I’d like to take a look at how it operates.”
To my amazement, Laitu’s heavy sweat intensifies even further. He mops his gleaming brow and then makes a show of folding his hands across his prodigious belly. “Ah, the alarm system! I don’t have access, myself, but I know those who do. Please, make yourself at home while I gather assistance.”
“A man of action. I can appreciate that,” I say, smirking at the way he preens at the faint praise before rushing off to find someone—anyone! Oh, please help! his body language seems to scream—who can answer my questions about the alarm.
I wonder how the alarms operate. Based on the way Laitu responded, and the hints that Ozana dropped, it’s more complicated than a simple monitoring system. What sets the alarms apart? I’m hoping it’s more like Azariah’s scrying abilities. If it’s interesting enough, and I get an up-close look, then maybe I’ll be able to find a way to duplicate the underlying runes and add the function to a custom-made glass creature.
General-purpose golems seem difficult, but assigning each of the fanciful glass beasts a particular task to carry out is well within the scope of [Glass Animation]. Given enough time and material, I’ll soon have a tool for every task. My armies will be unstoppable.
I desperately need to figure out the scrying trick Azariah used. Neat bit of magic, that. He may have been gruff and overly interested in helping himself at our expense, but he’s clever. No denying he’s gifted.
To pass the time waiting for Laitu’s return, I daydream about the endless hordes of glass spies that I’ll command in the future. If I can crack the code for scrying, then they can share images of anything they see. I could eventually sell the entire menagerie to the [Inquisitors] if the proof of concept works out. I’ll keep the best for my own purposes, though.
Footsteps patter outside the office, bringing me back to the present. I glance up, curious about the sudden commotion, and a rush of many feet echoes down the hall to join the first pair. Abruptly, they all fall silent. Through my Domain, I recognize Ozana approaching. The other mana signatures in the crowd part before her.
Sure enough, the wood-paneled office door slides open soundlessly several heartbeats later. Amber light from the hallway spills into the room, framing the sharp silhouette of Ozana. She meets my gaze and raises an eyebrow in question.
I pick up the tea cup in front of me and take a long sip, enduring her withering glare with more than a little mirth at how disgruntled she appears. “Have no fear. Your tea is better, though it loses on taste.”
She breaks into a faint smile. Some of the tension goes out of her shoulders. “That was hardly my worry. My brewing is unmatched by any in the Orpheus.”
“Really? His tea is more flavorful. It’s lacking other qualities, however. Such as good company.”
“Charmer!” she accuses.
I grin, enjoying banter that doesn’t trigger a misplaced sense of aggression. Without the corrupted influence of the concept of violence, I no longer have to fight to maintain control. “You know, he’s using a sales Skill on me. You never have. Where’s your dedication to compete? I ought to feel insulted at your lack of effort.”
Ozana crosses the room. She slips into the seat behind the large office desk, kicks her feet up—scattering a pile of papers as she crosses her ankles—and laughs. “I don’t need cheap tricks to convince you.”
“Just banknotes?”
She scowls. “Tell him no.”
I take another sip of the tea, which is back to a deep red color now, draining the cup. Ah, too bad it’s gone. “I’m not making another table, if that’s your concern. I’m only keeping an open line of communication. But I wasn’t lying. His tea truly tastes superior.”
“Fine, I concede! He needs to take every win he can get,” Ozana grumbles.
“Sounds like you're jealous.”
She brushes more papers off the desk, swinging her feet back to the ground so she can stand up and pace. “Lucky for you, I am jealous! I told you before that I always take care of my investments, which means you’ll get what you want. Laitu doesn’t know anything about alarm systems. Unlike me. I’m friends with the [Image Mage] who helped create them.”
I grin. I’d hoped that my hunch was correct. “So you do have a recorded image!”
“Of course. It’s not for sale, and you can’t make a copy, but if you accompanied me on a tour while I happened to watch the recorded scrying? Well, no one will stop us.”
“Thank you, Ozana. I won’t forget your generosity. You’re a true friend,” I say, laying on the flattery a bit thick.
“The best of friends. And don’t you forget it,” Ozana says. “Hoping to check in on your sick friend since you got kicked out of the Menders?”
“No. I trust that he’ll be all right. My friends will take excellent care of him. I want to see what I looked like before they called security.”
Ozana’s nose scrunches up. She tilts her head as she looks at me. “Whatever for?”
“I’ve had something of an epiphany,” I say hesitantly. When she frowns, I smile politely and refuse to back down. “Sorry, I’ll have to leave it at that. Indulge me?”
“Very well, but it won’t come cheap.”
I chuckle. “Of course not. But I’m not here to make any masterworks today. I wanted to make a set of cups for the inn. That’s it.”
“Come now, Master Nuri. Surely you can do better than that,” Ozana says, shaking her head side to side in a show of mock dismay.
I cross my arms. “Show me what I want as a gesture of goodwill. I’ll make sure that any future contract we sign will be beneficial to you.”
Ozana laughs like the tinkling of tiny bells and calls over her shoulder, “Little Laitu, come in!” She winks at me. “See how easy it is to reel in this fish. He’s out of his depth.”
I get the sense that she’s teasing Laitu about finding himself out of his depth, not me for giving in too quickly, but I can never be entirely sure how to parse her declarations. It’s all right. I don’t have to win every battle anymore. As long as I get to see how the scrying magic works for their alarm system, I’m happy.