“No, Micah,” his mother said while she put in her earrings. “I said no, and that’s final.”

It was Friday morning, and he was asking her if he could go to back to the classroom already. He was still a little bit weak ... well, a lot weak actually. He wasn’t looking forward to meeting his classmates again either, and his body felt bloated and hungry at the same time, even though he’d just eaten something. But he didn’t want to stay home all day doing nothing. Plus, he wasn’t wobbly on his feet anymore. That was good, right? He’d even walked all the way to the Climber’s Guild yesterday!

… and promptly got shot down by Linda.

No, Micah, she’d said after he’d asked her why she wouldn’t forgive him. You did something bad. You can’t just apologize to someone and expect them to forgive you, just like that. Sometimes, you need to learn your lesson first.

He still felt sad about that. He hadn’t cried. Almost the opposite, really. He’d just sighed after leaving the Guild and gone back home. And he did it again now just thinking about it. The annoying thing was, Micah had learned that lesson already, the one Linda wanted him to learn, but there was no way he could show that to her, was there? Not right now, at least. He knew she might just need more time to get over it, but … Micah was planning on heading into the Tower again soon. How would he explain that? At this rate, Linda was never going to forgive him. And he wanted her to forgive him. He didn’t know why, but he did.

Maybe he had a crush on her?

He thought about it for a moment.

Nah.

Micah had never had a crush on anyone before, but he thought he would be the first to know when he did.

So he had to find another way to apologize. Was there anything he could do, some kind of gesture he could make? Maybe he could bake something for her with Prisha, or buy her something like his dad did when mom was angry? Or maybe even make her a potion? Ryan had told him his perfume potion smelled nice. Micah smiled at that. Could he make her one of those? You weren’t allowed to sell potions without a license, but he wouldn’t be selling, would he? He’d be giving it away as a present. Would she even trust him, though? Micah knew he wouldn’t if one of his classmates wanted to give him a ‘potion’. And he didn’t even know which scent she liked best. He couldn’t remember ever smelling her perfume.

Maybe he could ask Ryan. The older boy had said he had that something-or-other Skill that let him smell better— uhm, [Better Senses]?

“Micah? Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” he looked up. His mother was fitting on her council pin now and calling his name. He’d been asking her to go to school today, hadn’t he? He lost track again. Best if he stopped doing that, asap. Now, where was he? Ah-

“But whyyyy, mom?” he whined. “I’m all better now!”

“Because you’re still weak and you need rest or you will stay weak. Don’t you get that? And more importantly, because I said so, young man. Just see it as part of your lengthy punishment for your behavior.”

“But what am I supposed to do all day?” he asked.

She just shrugged and slipped on one of her shoes. His father was gone already. He’d had to go in early for some reason today. She was about to leave herself.

“Brew a potion. Wait, no, don’t brew a potion without supervision. I’ve heard they can explode.”

No they can’t, Micah thought. Not with what I’m making them. Ryan had said the same thing in the cave two days ago and Micah honestly didn’t understand how anyone could think that. Micah was working with sticks and stones here, not highly dangerous chemicals.

… well, maybe he could. Oil and water together in a hot pan was supposed to make the water explode. If he could maybe transfer that reaction into a potion somehow— No, no, no. Micah was getting off track. He wanted to convince people of the opposite, didn’t he? And just because he maybe could, didn’t mean he should. Micah wasn’t looking forward to losing a finger or two during experiments.

“Do your homework,” his mother went on. “You must have some leftover from last week. You still have to catch up on what you missed this week, too. So study. Your father and I are going to go to Millford’s this afternoon to talk about your application. They don’t have an entrance exam, but they like to quiz their Early Birds every few weeks. So make sure you’re up for that or we will. Do you understand?”

Micah gulped. His plan to get great grades by the time he graduated had somewhat fallen by the wayside when he’d started studying alchemy when he heard his first level up. How could you prefer boring old history and maths over that sweet, sweet voice telling you, you got a new level or even a new Skill? It just wasn’t sane.

Now he had a lot of catching up to do.

“You’re still under house arrest, though. So remember that. Prisha told me what you did yesterday, by the way. While it’s nice you wanted to apologize to that lady, don’t ignore your punishment again or your father and I will become much less concerned about your well-being. There are plenty of chores left that you could do. Am I understood?”

Traitor, Micah thought of Prisha, but it was a secondary thought. Appeasing his angry mother was the first.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quickly.

Then she headed off. They said their goodbyes at the front door, and Micah was left all alone in the house again. It felt weird. He should be in class this time of day, not at home doing nothing. He got an apple from the kitchen and drank some water, then trudged up the stairs into his room.

His desk was there, the chair pulled back as if inviting him to sit down and study … and on the other side of his room stood a medium sized chest against the wall. There was a hint of bark essence crawling over its red wood, but it felt like there were gaps where he should have seen something else.

Micah took a bite of his apple. He hadn’t even looked inside the wolf chest, had he? Ryan’s instructor had put all the things that were in it into this one ...

Treasure it is, he thought.

He swung the lid open and pulled out the things one by one. He knew there were things missing, but he didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have had much use for them anyway, aside from maybe the healing potion. That girl Lisa had taken a mana ring and Ryan’s instructor a quiver full of arrows. Micah was neither a mage nor an archer, although he wouldn’t mind learning more about either. Magic had to be a part of essences, he suspected, and archery was a part of violence, after all. Other than that, he had willingly given them the healing potion, too. Now, this was all that was left.

It was still more than he should have had, which was nothing. Micah had whistled. They’d saved him. He was grateful they hadn’t insisted on taking everything.

The first thing he pulled out was the roll of black velvet that he’d found in the salamander chest. It wasn’t much. Maybe enough for a pillowcase. Micah didn’t even know what you used velvet for. It felt weird in his hands, kind of slippery and grating at the same time. Didn’t seem magic, though. Didn’t have a special pattern either. He checked once more for hidden pockets (there were none) and put it aside.

Then he got out the large red crystal that had been in the chest along with it. The stone was warm to the touch and warped the air around it with its red glow and heat essence, but it lacked something, too. Namely, bulging teeth made of flames. It should have been full of fire essence, but all he could see was red inside. Ever since he got out of the Tower, he couldn’t see fire essence anymore or use his cantrip. It probably had something to do with him being afraid. He remembered the dreams he had at night and wondered how he was going to get over that. Either way, it was a concern for another day. It wasn’t like he wanted to get close to fire again, after all. He laid the crystal on the cloth.

Next, he pulled out four smaller grey crystals that were chock full of mist essence. He remembered putting two of them inside the salamander chest when he’d gone to retrieve his pants. Where had the other two come from? Ryan, probably. Micah would have to thank him again, even if he wouldn’t want to hear about it.

Micah probably couldn’t do much with the crystals anyway, except … he’d had no way of infusing mist essence before. You can’t trap a mixture of water and air in heated water, after all.

Huh. Why hadn’t he ever thought of that? Maybe monster crystals could have some use after all. Micah carefully put them down next to the larger red one.

Lastly, he found a pair of boots. They were of better leather than his last ones, which he had worn into the Tower. Micah wasn’t an expert on the subject, but they looked kind of expensive. Not fancy, but well made. They were simple and brown, and not too high. They barely had any heel at all, which he had always found overly annoying.

He shifted on the floor so he could hold one against the sole of his foot. It was about the same size, too. His foot slipped in with minimal effort. He tied the laces and tested the weight. It was a perfect fit.

Micah stared.

What, he wondered, were a pair of boots that fit a small thirteen years old doing in a treasure chest on the fourth floor of the Tower? And he’d found them right after he ruined one of his own boots, too …

Micah continued to stare for a moment before he quickly tore off the boot and threw it back into the chest. He almost slammed the lid down but forced himself to put the other things back before he did. More carefully this time.

Then he went to study.

Screw loot.

He got through most of his leftover homework from last week, took a break to eat something, and went back to homework for a few hours when he heard a knock on his window and frowned. He turned his head towards it and frowned some more.

What was Ryan doing outside his window?

The other boy was grinning at him, one hand gripping the house, presumably, and the other gesturing at the latch. Micah got halfway up before remembering he never latched his window. Westhill wasn’t that kind of place.

“It’s open,” he said.

“You have to invite me in,” came the muted reply.

“I invite you in?” he asked.

What a weirdo.

Ryan pushed the window up and climbed in. Then he stood there, grinned, frowned, and faltered a little.

“Are your parents home?” he whispered.

“No?”

“Good,” he said, sounding relieved. He glanced at Micah, but then his eyes wandered around his room, over his bed, his bookcase, his wardrobe, and lingered on the open books on his desk. He just walked over and sat down on the edge of Micah’s bed.

Now Micah had to turn all the way around in his seat to face him. Ugh. At least it was better than studying. Much better. Still, he frowned because something was bugging him a little, something he noticed now that Ryan had come to visit.

“Did you know there are toys lying outside in your garden?” the boy asked. “I put them next to your house, just in case you still want them.”

“Uhm, thank you,” Micah said. He wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing. He still hadn’t deciphered his mother’s reaction when he told her they’d been Aaron’s.

“You’re welcome,” Ryan said and looked at Micah as if expecting something from him. What? More enthusiasm? Micah felt awkward. He realized just how quiet the house was around noon.

He sighed a little on the inside. Might as well get it over with.

“Ryan, why are you here?”

“I’m visiting you?” the other boy asked, glancing up at him from where he was taking off one his shoes. Micah was confused about that until he realized that Ryan wanted to put his feet up on his bed. He was just being considerate.

How annoying.

The truth was, Micah was still glad about the prospect of making friends again after all this time, and he would never be able to thank Ryan enough — he’d had one dream about the boy where he was a knight for some reason, amidst the other dreams about the Tower … But there was an issue bugging him, now that Ryan suddenly showed up out of nowhere.

“Yes, but why?” Micah asked. “Don’t you have classes or training?”

“I would have had training today,” Ryan said and sat back, “but it was canceled for today so I’ve got the afternoon off.”

He grinned.

“I’ve seen you train on your own before,” Micah insisted. “Plus, you could be playing alleyball right now with our classmates, or going into the Tower with Lisa, or … I don’t know, doing Climber stuff.”

Ryan shook his head.

“Lisa’s got exams right now. She’s too busy. Plus, I’ve only known her for about a week. Less, even. Although ... she did say she’d like to team up from time to time.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you want to hang out with me,” Micah said.

If the reason was just because Micah was a ‘prodigy’ like Ryan was, Micah wouldn’t want that. He didn’t want to be in some kind of snobby group of friends who only valued Skills and callings like he’d seen the other children behave around Ryan two years ago. Things had normalized somewhat now that all the other children his age had gotten their own Skills or even first Classes, too, but still, Micah’s point stood. He still had two years left in that classroom. He didn’t want them to be the same as Ryan’s.

Ryan grimaced as if Micah had caught him in something, and it worried him.

“The truth is,” the older boy said slowly. “You’re the only one in the classroom who doesn’t ever smell like muddy tracks.”

Micah needed a moment to process that. Muddy tracks? What did he mean? It hadn’t rained in weeks, as far as he knew. Unless it’d rained when he was in the Tower. Then it hit him … Oh. Oh. Those muddy tracks. But how would he smell-

“Oh,” Micah repeated a third time, out loud now that he finally understood, and felt his ears start burning in embarrassment.

“Yeah.”

“Wait, so you can smell that? Because of [Better-”

“[Enhanced Senses],” Ryan corrected him.

“But … can’t you like … turn it off?”

“Nope.”

Micah just stared at him again and got a shrug in response. He felt completely disarmed somehow. He hadn’t been expecting this.

“So like, whenever someone … you know … pff,” he tried helplessly, making the sound into his hand and laughing helplessly. He didn’t want to. To Ryan, it might seem like he was laughing at him instead of whatever it really was, but Micah just couldn’t help himself.

It was kind of funny, right?

“I’m a guy, Micah,” Ryan said lamely. “I don’t care if someone farts, and I’ve gotten used to most the smells. It’s just some of them I would rather do without, and being stuck in a classroom for hours on end when all you can do is study or pay attention to class … Things build up.”

“Wow,” Micah said with a slightly trembling voice, “that must suck.”

He was trying to hide his embarrassment and not blush. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he’d had brought tracks in, too, from time to time. If Ryan had smelled them even half the time … He was going to have to go to the bathhouse much more often from now on, or he’d never be able to show his face around the guy.

“It’s not that bad,” Ryan said. “I mean, I can’t smell everyone at the same time. I usually only notice stuff when they’re up close or walking past, but, uhm ... Nevermind, it’s just I can’t wait for you to be back on Monday.”

Wait, what?

“Huh?” he said out loud.

“Because of your potion?” Ryan asked.

“My potion? Oh. But I only put on a little bit,” Micah said. “Barely a few drops.”

Ryan shrugged.

“Drowns out most the other stuff in the room,” he said. “Just thought it’d be nice to hang out with someone who doesn't stink all the time. You know, from time to time. Plus, you wanted to head into the Tower again, so there’s that.”

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“Huh,” Micah said, ever so eloquently. He guessed he’d had no need to worry after all. Ryan wasn’t as bad as he had assumed. Or rather, he was as good as he had assumed two years ago, before all the other kids sucking up to him made him mistrust the guy.

“And on that note,” Ryan said, suddenly awkward. “Uhm, I noticed you don’t smell like flowers right now?”

“I haven’t had time to make a potion,” Micah said, wondering how he was going to get the copious amounts of flowers he needed to make one. “I’m under house arrest,” he clarified.

Maybe if he explained himself to his parents? It felt weird to him that he even had that option now. He didn’t particularly want to talk to his parents about alchemy. They and it just seemed like two things that shouldn’t mix. Maybe he could ask Ryan instead? Probably not. Asking a guy to pick a basket full of flowers for him from outside of the city didn’t seem wise.

“Oh, alright then,” Ryan said casually, standing up. “I’ll just come back then later then? When you’ve made one? Is tomorrow alright?”

He asked it so earnestly, Micah was taken back at first. But then he just squinted his eyes at the lame joke and said, “Sure,” calling his bluff. It was easy, considering what stood at the base of his bed.

Still, Ryan climbed out the window and said, “Bye.”

Micah rolled his eyes. Did he have to drag it out so long? Of course Ryan wasn’t leaving. His boots were still standing there!

“I was just joking!” Ryan suddenly called, climbing back in and laughing. “I bet you believed me.”

“Ugh. You’re so lame.”

Ryan threw himself back down on Micah’s bed and smiled.

“So, house arrest?” Ryan asked. “Is it because you went into the Tower?”

Micah shrugged.

“That and other things. They said it’s for the whole summer, but I think I might be able to slip out from time to time or make them bring it down a little. They’re off at Millford’s right now to talk about my application, after all, so at least I won’t have to do Chores all afternoon. But then again … Millford’s.”

Micah groaned.

“That’s where everyone goes, right?” Ryan asked.

“Exactly!”

It was one of two schools in Westhill and it was the most ‘Westhill’-y a school could possibly be. His sister, Prisha, had gone there, too, and even she complained that their constant reminders about how evil the Tower allegedly was and how perfect Westhill is got annoying pretty quickly. They apparently liked to focus on the unsavory aspects of the Tower’s history, the crimes, and cults, and tyranny. That kind of stuff. Bygones, really.

“It’s in the opposite direction,” he heard Ryan mumble, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Nothing,” the boy insisted. “So, that’s it? Just house arrest?”

Micah gave the other boy a lame thumb’s up and put his other hand to his mouth to mimic a farting sound again. At least, that got a chuckle out of him.

“House arrest, no more allowance, no more fun. Study, study, study, my parents say. All summer long.”

“Ouch. And spoils-wise? How’s your return treating you there?” Ryan asked.

That was somewhat better.

“Well, I got three levels, two Skills, and a Path,” Micah said, “so that’s pretty awesome. Although, [Kinetic Infusion] only lets me make potions by moving them instead of heating … Actually, no. That’s pretty great, now that I think about it.” He didn’t look at Ryan when he said that. He didn’t want to see the reaction. “Otherwise, I got one salamander crystal, four wolf crystals, a regular bit of velvet, a medium sized chest, and a pair of boots that fit me perfectly for some reason.”

“Boots?” Ryan asked, perking up somewhat. “From the Prowler’s Chest?”

“Prowlers?” Micah asked and realized he meant the not-wolves. “Oh, yeah. Want to see?”

“Sure.”

Micah got up and went over to get them. When he brought them back to Ryan, the other boy had an anticipating smile on his face for some reason. Or at least Micah thought he did. He handed the boots over nervously while Ryan inspected them.

“And you said they fit you perfectly?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Micah said, wondering whether or not he should share his suspicions with the other boy. He had gotten a pair of boots right after ruining his own, and a healing potion right after wounding his foot.

Talking about the Towers was a delicate thing, though. He had seen criers in the Bazaar get stones thrown at them because they said the Towers were Gods. Instead of arresting the attackers, the guards had even arrested the crier. That seemed a little excessive to Micah. He was basically just speculating, right? Let the man believe what he wanted to believe.

Suddenly, Ryan sunk his teeth into one of Micah’s new boots and dragged a scratch into the leather.

“Hey!” he said immediately and snatched it back. “What are you doing?!”

“Just watch,” Ryan insisted. “Look at the tear.”

Micah scowled at him and looked to inspect the damage. Then his scowl lessened and he frowned. He held the boot up right in front of his face. Like all other leathers, it had the faintest of patterns beneath its simple, more vibrant color that was its essence, but that vibrancy was leaking over the scratch now, forming the thinnest of overlapping and spiralling strands — its pattern, out of its own essence, right in front of eyes — and Micah watched in amazement as he saw the vibrancy and strands mix together into one, the boot heal its own damage, hairbreadth by hairbreadth.

“What?” he mumbled.

Suddenly, he had the briefest thought of stuffing the boot in the nearest glass bottle he could find to make a potion, but then he realized just how valuable the boot was because it was enchanted to self-repair.

“They’re called Growing Boots,” Ryan told him. “You wouldn’t know about them in Westhill, since you can usually only buy them in auctions near the Tower. They fit their wearer perfectly and can repair small bits of damage. I’ve always wanted a pair for myself because they’re just so awesome. Apparently, they won’t grow into two new pairs if you cut them in half, though — I asked — but I’m told an [Alchemist] can make the two parts grow back together again if you did do that for some reason. No idea how, but I’m sure you’ll have fun figuring it out.”

“Wait, how do they fit their wearer?” Micah asked. “You wouldn’t even be able to fit your foot inside this.”

“Oh, they all start out that small. You have to make them grow larger, first. They also grow with you over time, so they’re perfect for children … “

He kept on talking but Micah wasn’t really listening anymore, suddenly hung up on an idea that he knew was only right, even if he personally didn’t want to do it. These boots were a treasure he would have loved to have kept for himself, normally, but he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

He held the boot out to Ryan again and said, “Take it.”

“Huh?” The boy stopped in the middle of whatever he was saying.

“I whistled, Ryan. You saved my life. You deserve the reward.”

Ryan was staring at him, unmoving with an expression on his face that Micah just couldn’t decipher. He didn’t know him well enough yet. Shock? Embarrassment? Just .. nothing at all?

He quickly kept talking, before Ryan could come up with an excuse or make this any more awkward than it already was. “I probably won’t need them anyway.” He chuckled a little. “I don’t think I’ll grow up too tall.”

“You’re only thirteen,” Ryan said. “Plenty of time for some growth spurts.”

“Still, I don’t need them yet. You’re in the middle of your own and you said it yourself, you always wanted a pair.”

“Screw me,” he mumbled, “for putting words into my own mouth.”

“C’mon, Ryan, this isn’t hard. Just take the boot. I got a kick-ass new Path, a bunch of levels and some crystals I want to experiment with. You need them more than I do.”

He bit his lip, looking unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Alright, then,” he took it hesitantly, and Micah was both relieved and disappointed at the same time. It was a shame to see it go, his fingers ached to snatch it back, but maybe he could find another pair someday?

“So how do you make it grow?” he asked, switching over to curiosity and pushing his regret deep down where it could join other things.

“You got to give it something of yourself,” Ryan said.

“What, like blood?” Micah asked, turning to get his knife from his alchemy supplies in case they needed it.

“Nah,” Ryan simply answered and made a deep nasal sound while he held his head back. Then he spat a huge gollop right into the boot.

Micah didn’t know why that was weirder than cutting yourself for your own blood, but it was. It definitely was.

Then Ryan picked up the other boot and did the same thing with that one. He even held the two down and shook them a little. To make the spit spread?

… Ew?

“There,” he said, wiping his mouth. “It should take about a week, since they aren’t all that much smaller.”

“Uhm, sure.”

“Hopefully, they’ll be ready by Tuesday. I’ve got training then and my instructor wants to make me run laps as my punishment. My current shoes are kind of pinchy, too, so new ones would be nice.”

“What are you being punished for?” Micah asked.

“Uhm,” Ryan said and put the boots on the floor next to his other shoes.

Micah had to force himself to not stare at them. Their pattern wasn’t nearly complex enough to do anything, really, let alone grow leather on their own and self-repair. But the boots undeniably were. What was fueling it? Essence? Magic? How did they work?

“I kind of ran off from our group,” the other boy was saying, “to go look for you, and that’s, uh, not a good idea with a pack of wolves running around.”

Micah’s mind slowly caught up to what Ryan had said until he realized what he was saying. The older boy was in trouble for saving him. What the-? he cursed in his mind. That’s stupid! Who the hell would do such a thing?

On some level, his rational mind understood why, probably, but his rational mind was taking a trip down the river right now. Ryan’s instructor was the answer. The angry man. He was the type of person who would do such a thing.

And to think Micah had wanted to go find him to thank him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said to Ryan though, hiding his anger, because Ryan seemed to respect the man and Micah didn’t want to make things awkward.

“No, no. It’s my fault. Plus, it’s fine. I leveled up and got a new Skill, [Lesser Endurance], so I bet it won’t be as grueling as before.” Ryan grinned as if everything was just fine, and it eased Micah’s worries.

“You leveled up?” he asked. That was great news, right? He wondered which level Ryan had now as a [Fighter]. Five? Six? He wasn’t sure. Either way, it was impressive for his age. “Congratulations, man. You definitely deserved it.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said. “Oh, and before I forget. Gardener told me to give you this.”

He searched through his pockets until he pulled a glass bottle with small ornamentations from his back pocket. Wasn’t that the bottle Micah’s healing potion had been in? It was empty now.

“It’s enchanted, too,” Ryan said.

“What?” Micah was up in an instant, leaning over to try and grab the bottle. “Gimme gimme,” he said eagerly, but Ryan held it just out of reach and laughed.

“What’s it enchanted with?” Micah asked, ignoring him and stretching to get a chance at grabbing the flask, but then Ryan pulled his arm the other way and scooted back, revealing he hadn’t ever had a chance in the first place. He was effortlessly holding Micah back.

“Come on, Ryan. I just want to see. Gardener told you to give it back.”

“I just remembered something else that’s important though,” Ryan said and pushed him back a little more. Then he fake laughed and Micah began to suspect why he was doing this.

He stopped protesting and scowled.

“You know why I’m doing this?”

“Yes,” he said softly, acting ashamed.

“It’s revenge for you and your sister in the bathhouse, Micah! I was completely naked. She just waltzed into the men’s bathing area. I’m fifteen. Things are different for me now. I know all about the birds and the bees. You have to be a bit more considerate, you know? What were you thinking? Blablabla. Nagnagnag.”

Micah hadn’t ignored him near the end. He actually said that out loud, then stopped and grinned at him. He tossed the bottle over and Micah easily caught it, but only offered it a spare glance.

“What are the birds in the bees?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, man. You do not want to know,” Ryan said, whatever that meant, then gestured at the flask. “Gardener said it’s enchanted with durability.”

Micah frowned at the flask because it didn’t look enchanted, just like the boots. It didn’t even have a pattern beyond its glass shapes, and its essence … its essence might have been a little off. And the patterns, too, now that he looked more closely at them. They seemed more organized somehow, more densely packed together, tighter, almost the faintest bit of blue-

“What?”

“Hm?” Ryan asked.

“I thought you said something.”

“Nope,” he said. “I was wondering if you could see anything with your [Essence Sight], maybe. Since it’s glass?”

“Not really,” Micah admitted. “And I can see patterns on the surface of the boots, too, and they’re normal.”

He considered dropping the flask just to test the enchantment, but glass was pretty fragile. How much more durable could an enchantment possibly make it? Then again, anything that was enchanted was valuable. So best not drop it for that reason alone.

“Can you—” Ryan started, but Micah interrupted him.

“I’m going to have to thank him, after all.”

“Who, Gardener?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhm, about that,” Ryan started. “I kind of told him that you wanted to do that and, uhm … he wouldn’t exactly be happy to see you.”

“Oh,” Micah said. “OK.” And that was that. Gardener wasn’t Linda, what did Micah care if he liked him?

“Do you know where Lisa lives, by the way? Or when she might be at your school?”

“You want to thank her, too?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah,” he said. Obviously.

Micah had given her that mana ring, but he hadn’t explicitly thanked her for what she’d done yet. His parents insisted he was under house arrest for the whole summer, but Micah thought he could squeeze in a quick trip to Ryan’s school sometime when they weren’t looking.

“I can ask,” Ryan said, thankfully.

“That only leaves the other two teenagers and the— uhm, other man,” Micah stumbled over his words a bit as he spoke. He’d almost said ‘scary man’, which would have been embarrassing, except that it was true. He had a hunch, like when [Basic Alchemy] told him something, to not mess with the silent one who had a quiver full of arrows and always stood so he had a good shot at everyone’s back.

“Gus, Barry, and Markus?” Ryan said. “Uhm, they go to another school. And he’s their teacher, Gus, I mean. I’m not sure at which school, though. I never asked. Listen, though, Micah, you don’t have to thank all of them. They know you’re grateful, and they would gladly do what they did all over again.”

“They saved my life at risk of their own,” Micah insisted. “Of course I have to thank them. That’s not something you take lightly.”

Why did this even need explaining?

The other boy sighed heavily, though, and let himself fall back on Micah’s bed, which was kind of weird to see. This was his bed, after all.

Excuse me? Invasion of privacy?

“First you do that stupid bow in the bathhouse and say you want to go back into the Tower,” Ryan said. “Then you give me a pair of Growing Boots, and now this. What could you have possibly have done that all the adults hate you?”

Micah shrugged. “I lied a lot.”

“Yeah, don’t do that.”

“Duh,” he said and turned the glass flask over, inspecting the way it had been blown so it looked like it was ornamented. Not quite fancy, but well made. That seemed to describe everything about the Tower. “So, uhm, on that note. You said I should get the [Fighter] Class before I go inside the Tower again. How do I do that?”

The only warning Micah got was Ryan peeking up at him before he got a pillow smacked across his face. Phantom feathers shot out of it and billowed all across his room. They drifted to the ground slowly, where they dispersed as if the ground was liquid fire or something.

“Hey!” he said to Ryan.

The other boy just laughed and smacked him again. More feathers. He was hitting kind of hard for a pillow fight, though. No problem, Micah thought. Two could play that game, and he had a trump card, [Savagery].

“Wait, I’m still holding the bottle. What if I drop it?” he asked innocently.

“Then put it away,” Ryan said, holding the pillow ready with a grin.

Micah leaned over to put the glass down next to his bed, and he reached under it to sneakily pull out his spare pillow. Then he swung up, ready to start his counterattack when his mother’s voice called out all the sudden from downstairs.

His parents were home.

Oh no.

“Micah?” she called with a soft melody. “We’re home. We hope for your sake that you are, to-oo.”

Someone started walking up the stairs and Micah panicked. By the sound of the steps, it was his mother. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have friends over while he was under house arrest. His parents had said no sleepovers, but they hadn’t said anything about visitors. He turned back to tell Ryan that he had to leave, just in case, but the other boy already had one leg out the window.

“What are you doing?” he asked, surprised.

“Running?” Ryan said as if it was obvious. It was, but … uhm … Ryan was really quick on his feet, wasn’t he? He even had all four of his shoes in one hand, pressing them together by their necks so they wouldn’t fall. “No offense, Micah, but your parents are terrifying.”

“What?”

“Micah?” his mother’s called again, distracting him from challenging that statement. Her steps were getting closer now, so he just nodded at Ryan instead, even though the guy made no sense, and went to close the window.

His head shot up one last time.

“We might actually have to fight, though, or spar at least if you really want the [Fighter] Class.”

“We do?” Micah asked.

“Yeah, you should’ve gotten it from the Tower, but it might just be that you don’t consider fighting monsters being a [Fighter]. We’ll have to figure out your requirements.”

“Uhm, alright then,” Micah said with his arms up, ready to pull the window down. He had questions about that, but he couldn’t ask them right now. “Thanks. Now go, go, go.”

“On it. See you later.”

There was a soft thump when Ryan let himself drop down, a hushed figure running around the corner of his house, and then he was gone. Micah shut the window and hastily made his bed. He finished straightening the blanket right when his mother walked in and tried to appear nonchalant.

Oh, the books were open and yet he was standing next to his bed? He was just stretching his legs a bit, taking a break. That made sense, right?

His mother didn’t seem to mind either way. She was alone, too. Where was his father? Micah thought he could hear voices downstairs.

“There you are,” she said. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

“Uhm, I was caught up in homework,” he lied. “How was the trip to Millford’s?”

“About that,” she started and sat down on his bed, right where Ryan had sat earlier. She straightened the edges a little more. “We spoke to a secretary. It turns out, they have no more free spots available this summer. You’ll have to wait with your application for the new school year to start in the Fall.”

No wonder, Micah thought, with every child in Westhill going there.

He briefly wondered if his parents would send him to another school, though, before his mother spoke on.

“But that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to find another use for your time,” she said. ”Your father and I talked about it, and we think we might have a way for you to earn your allowance back after all.”

“You do?” Micah asked, excited. He hadn’t really thought about how he was going to finance his alchemy without his allowance yet, but now that she offered it back, he realized just how much he wanted it. “What is it?”

“You’re going to work for Neil and Prisha at their bathhouse in the afternoons,” she said. “You will do any work she gives you, even if it’s scrubbing baths all day, and without complaint, do you understand?”

Micah nodded quickly.

“And you will only earn your previous allowance, not anything else. This is part of your punishment and we don’t want to tax Prisha or her husband too much. We’ll make sure she understands that, too, so don’t you go begging her for anything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Micah said automatically, while his mind was elsewhere.

This was … this was … perfect! He got a chance to leave the house and he could earn money for his alchemy. Plus, he wouldn’t have to go to boring afternoon classes or study at the kitchen table under his parents’ supervision all day. He would get to hang out with Prisha and Neil, instead. That would barely be any punishment at all.

Micah was worried his mother might see how excited he was, though, so he bowed his head a little to hide his quirking lips.

“I mean, I understand,” he said, acting most disappointed. He even let his shoulders sag a bit and threw in a fake sigh. Would she buy it? Probably not, but he didn’t care so much right now.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, I have another surprise for you,” she said, hiding amusement in her voice.

Uh-oh, that could be either very good or very bad, Micah thought. A parent’s amusement could easily be a child’s suffering, after all.

“Yes?” he asked nervously.

“There’s a man downstairs who wants to meet you,” she said. “He heard about what happened and wanted to talk with you.”

Possibilities ran through Micah’s head, most of them bad, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet this person at all. Who had his mother brought along now? Maybe the guard to reprimand him for his reckless behavior? Or a grizzled veteran who would tell him terrifying stories about the Tower? Micah hoped for a moment it might be an instructor who wanted to teach him about self-defense, but it could just as well be his teacher, Mr. Brecht, who would give him all the homework he had missed this week.

“It’s Mr. Faraday,” his mother said, and Micah’s thoughts stopped running.

One of the local [Alchemists], he thought at the same time as his mother put it into words.