There was one small matter to take care of before returning to the inn.

  I noticed Grak’s Enchantry along the way, which advertised free appraisals of magical items—likely hoping to purchase any valuable discoveries from their owners.

  While Nizaar had told me my blade was enchanted, he had conveniently left out what exactly it did. Now was my chance to learn its capabilities from someone who was hopefully far more trustworthy, along with getting my new clothing properly fitted.

  When I stepped inside, the interior was brighter than I expected, with crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling. Glass cases displayed various enchanted items—gloves that shimmered with frost, boots that seemed unusually light, and jewelry with faintly glowing gemstones.

  Behind a counter inlaid with strange symbols stood an orc with green skin and a neatly trimmed beard adorned with silver beads. Unlike the brutes from my fantasy novels, he wore spectacles perched on his broad nose and a well-tailored waistcoat over a clean white shirt. He looked up from a tome bound in blue leather.

  “Welcome,” he said, his voice surprisingly cultured. “I am Grak. How may I enhance your day?”

  “I’m interested in clothing enchantments,” I said, approaching the counter. “And perhaps an appraisal.”

  Grak’s eyes lit up. “Excellent! Let’s start with the enchantments. What do you have in mind?”

  I produced the new traveling set. “I’d like this protected from wear and tear, if possible. And resized.”

  “We can certainly do that. Would you like a set enchantment, or enchant each clothing item individually?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “With individual pieces, you can better calibrate a specific set of enchantments, each performing a specific task, but it costs more overall. For a complete set enchantment, the enchantment applies to everything as a unit and is cheaper overall, but you can’t be as specific.” He adjusted his spectacles. “Also, with set enchantments, if you remove one piece of clothing that is part of the set, the entire enchantment temporarily ceases to function.”

  I considered this. “What would you recommend?”

  “For basic traveling clothes like these, most people go for a set utility enchantment. I have several popular choices.” He began counting off on his fingers. “Dust Repel keeps clothing perpetually clean—quite popular with nobles who can’t be bothered with laundry. Sun Shield protects from sunburn and disperses excess heat—excellent for desert travel or summer months. Mend-Weave gradually repairs damaged fabric over time—ideal for travelers far from tailors.”

  I considered all this as he continued.

  “There’s also Water Repel, which does exactly what it sounds like. Silent Step, which reduces the sound of fabric rustling—popular with hunters.”

  I was impressed by the options. “How many enchantments can be applied at once?”

  “Up to six, technically, but the costs increase substantially after the first one. For a full outfit utility enchantment, the first effect costs three silver, the second costs an additional six. Thereafter, the price of each new enchantment doubles.” He adjusted his spectacles. “People don’t understand why, but getting the enchantments not to interfere with each other can be tricky. I’m pleased to say, as a Level 20 Enchanter, I can add up to six different enchantments to your gear, if you wish. It won’t be cheap, though.”

  My funds were limited, but these enchantments seemed genuinely useful. “I think I’ll take Dust Repel and Mend-Weave for the full outfit.” Then, thinking of the utility of stealth, I added, “and Silent Step.”

  “You’ve made practical choices. That would be twenty-one silvers total.”

  As I counted out the coins, I briefly considered adding Sun Shield, given the heat of the beach. The weather wasn’t exactly scorching, but it could be uncomfortable under direct sunlight.

  Then again, I’d have my new wide-brimmed hat. Not fashionable, but I’d seen hundreds of similar ones since arriving in Karadesh. Practicality would have to win over comfort for now.

  Once the transaction was concluded, Grak prepared for the enchantment. He retrieved a small wooden box containing several tools: a silver needle, a vial of iridescent light blue liquid, and what appeared to be a magnifying glass framed in copper.

  With precise movements, he traced patterns on my clothing with the needle, leaving glowing blue trails that lingered for seconds before fading. All the while, he murmured words in a language I didn’t recognize that made the hairs on my arms rise.

  The process took about five minutes.

  “There,” he said with satisfaction. “The Dust Repel is active immediately. The Mend-Weave will begin repairing your garments gradually as soon as they are damaged—most noticeable tears should be restored within a day or two, but if the damage is too severe, it will need to be professionally assessed. And, of course, you can test out the Silent Step for yourself.” He smiled wryly. “Be warned that it doesn’t allow you to blunder about like a drunken elephant. You will still need to move carefully for the enchantment to work properly.”

  “Duly noted. And has it been resized?”

  “Yes. That’s done for free as part of the package, since it’s quite elementary.” He leaned forward. “And now, you mentioned you had an item you wanted evaluated?”

  I hesitated for a moment before drawing the dagger from my belt. “This. I acquired it recently and know little about its properties. I know it’s magical; I just don’t know what it does.”

  Grak’s eyes widened behind his spectacles. “No class?”

  I shook my head. “I hope to rectify that soon.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I puzzled over Grak’s words. If I had a class, it seemed I’d be able to tell whether items were magical at a glance. Or at least, certain items. And though I was certain Grak himself had a class, he couldn’t tell that I had one. Interesting. So Yasmin likely had some special ability, or perhaps a piece of equipment, that allowed her to see others’ classes.

  Grak reached for the magnifying glass, then seemed to reconsider and instead pulled out a different tool—a crystal lens mounted on a copper stand.

  “May I?” he asked, extending his hand.

  I placed the dagger carefully on the counter. Grak positioned the crystal lens above it and peered through it.

  “By the Nether,” he muttered, his voice suddenly hushed. He looked up at me with newfound respect—or perhaps wariness. “This is no ordinary weapon. This blade even has an Etheric-designated name.”

  “Etheric-designated name?”

  “Yes. It’s called Nightwhisper, and it is a gold-tier dagger bindable by anyone with a class. The assassins of the Shadow Empire made such weapons and gave them to their best agents. It’s also perfectly balanced for throwing.”

  “Gold-tier?” I repeated, trying to sound like I knew what it meant.

  “I’d show you myself, but if you don’t have a class, you can’t access the Aethereal Interface. I’m happy to explain as part of my services. Enchanted items are ranked by their power—bronze, silver, gold, and platinum. Some say there are tiers beyond even that, though I’ve never seen them. Gold-tier items are quite rare and powerful. This one—some might argue it has the properties of a platinum weapon.”

  I held my breath. This was better than I could have dreamed. “What does it do?”

  Grak adjusted his spectacles nervously. “This dagger grants +4 to the wielder’s Power Attribute and carries a unique Deathtouch enchantment.”

  “Deathtouch? What does that mean exactly?”

  Grak glanced toward the door, then lowered his voice. “It depends. Sometimes, like in this dagger, it gives a slight chance to instantly kill the target, regardless of their health or defenses.” He cleared his throat. “That chance is 1% for the first strike, 2% for the second, and so on—until the enchantment activates and kills. It can trigger once a day. Trust me, it’s quite valuable. Even the smallest nick will count as a 'strike.'"

  I felt a chill run down my spine, followed by a strange thrill. A weapon that could kill with a single strike? The possibilities were both terrifying and enticing.

  “Now, I should inform you that the Deathtouch enchantment is, strictly speaking, illegal in Karadesh, and most everywhere else. As I mentioned, they’re favored by assassins and…less reputable individuals.” He leaned forward. “I know some people who would pay handsomely for such an item. I could…take it off your hands. Discreetly, of course.” He gave an orcish smile that caused his tusks to protrude. “Of course, without a class, the dagger doesn’t work.”

  My eyes widened. “Why not?”

  Grak looked at me strangely. Again, I was betraying my lack of knowledge.

  “An enchanted item must be ‘cored’ to be of use to you. Only classed individuals can core-bind items.”

  “What about my clothing?” I asked. “It’s enchanted.”

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  “Utility enchantments work for everyone,” he explained. “Etheric enchantments, however, only work on people with a class who have successfully cored the item.”

  “I see.”

  I tried to hide my disappointment, but it was impossible.

  “Of course,” Grak said, in an attempt to cheer me up, “the dagger can still be used. It would simply be mundane. No enchantment. Though it will never lose its edge; that’s a passive utility of all enchanted blades, so you would at least benefit from that.”

  “Out of curiosity,” I said, “how much might you offer for it?”

  Grak let out a low whistle. “Anything below fifteen gold crowns is insulting.”

  I chuckled. Nizaar had offered a mere five. A painful lesson that it was important to shop around. The man had a lot of gall to lowball me, not once, but twice.

  I’d have to give Farid an earful when I had the chance.

  I considered whether to sell or not. On one hand, it was the practical choice. I couldn’t even use the thing, and the gold was a substantial sum. It would get me halfway toward buying a basic class core. Even more, if I could talk the price up a bit.

  But at the same time, it felt wrong.

  “I think I’ll keep it for now,” I said. “However, you’ve dealt with me fairly, and I will return should I change my mind or find other magical items.”

  “Of course,” Grak said, his professional demeanor returning. “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

  “Not at present, but your services have been most informative.” I shouldered my pack, noting with satisfaction that it felt more comfortable against my newly enchanted clothing. I hesitated. “Actually, there is one thing.”

  Grak’s bushy eyebrows arched expectantly.

  I produced my coin purse. “This was…a gift. I’d like to know if there’s anything unusual about it.”

  “A gift,” Grak repeated, his tone carefully neutral. “From whom?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Would you take a look?”

  “This isn’t an item I would purchase, so I’ll have to charge a silver for the appraisal. Is that acceptable?”

  “That’s fine.”

  Grak took the purse, placing it under his crystal lens. He studied it for a good half minute before looking up at me with a troubled expression.

  “You were right to have me examine this,” he said grimly.

  “What did you find?”

  “Well, it has the basic expansion enchantment common to all magical coin purses. But there’s something else…a hidden enchantment that only a high-level Enchanter like me would detect.”

  “What kind of enchantment?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

  He looked at me gravely. “A location-finding glyph. Masked quite skillfully. Who did you say gave this to you?”

  “Nizaar.”

  Grak cleared his throat, his green complexion paling noticeably. “Err…I would recommend disposing of this immediately. Not here; I don’t want him tracking it to my establishment. Find somewhere inconspicuous and discard it.”

  The truth struck me like a blade between the ribs. Nizaar wanted my dagger badly enough to track me across the city. His “generous gift” was nothing but a magical beacon.

  I felt a cold anger rising within me, mixed with disgust at my own naiveté. I had been played by a master manipulator—a dangerous misstep in a world where I still didn’t understand all the rules.

  And not only that, Farid had recommended his services.

  Farid, who worked for Marda. Her hands were clearly in this. Was all this a misdirection to complicate things for me while Petya gained distance?

  “I’ll take care of it,” I said quietly. “Would you happen to have a replacement coin purse?”

  “I can give you one of my older models,” Grak offered. “Free of charge. Still perfectly functional, just not worth selling. Consider it a professional courtesy.”

  Thankfully, my instincts had saved me. It was unlikely Nizaar was actively tracking me yet; I could easily dispose of the purse after leaving the city.

  I quickly transferred my thirty-eight silver coins to the new pouch and tucked the treacherous one deep in my pack.

  “Thank you, Grak. I’ll certainly return if I have more items to appraise.”

  “Of course,” he said. “But not before you’ve taken care of that business, you hear?”

  “Absolutely. Good day.”

  Leaving Grak’s Enchantry, I headed back toward the Copper Lantern. The plan was coming together: confront Farid, find Sathi, convince him to accompany me for a small fee, hire a boat back to the coast, and locate Petya before she got herself killed.

  But now I also had another concern to contend with. I had made yet another enemy in this world—and judging by the lengths Nizaar was willing to go for that dagger, he was not someone to be taken lightly.

  I would deal with that in due time.

  Finding a narrow alley between two sandstone buildings, I slipped behind a stack of wooden crates. I quickly shed my tattered office attire—the last remnants of my old world—and donned my new traveling clothes. The fabric felt sturdy against my skin, the boots comfortable despite their newness. I carefully folded my old clothing and tucked it into my enchanted pack, unwilling to discard these final tangible connections to Earth and Irina.

  As I emerged from the alley, looking considerably more like a local traveler and less like a displaced foreigner, I continued toward the Copper Lantern. I had to admit the hat was quite convenient, already cooling my fair skin.

  My mind was already working through how to approach Sathi. Direct honesty about the dragon would likely scare him off. But I needed to offer enough information to justify the journey and to gauge what price would tempt him without depleting my remaining funds too severely.

  I also had to gauge whether he, too, was in on things with Marda and Petya. Surely she couldn’t have poisoned everyone in the inn against me. Sathi had certainly seemed friendly enough, eager to prove his kind’s best qualities. That could potentially be exploited.

  My thoughts were broken as the Copper Lantern came into view, its namesake sign gleaming in the midday sun. I pushed through the door, finding the common room relatively quiet during the lull between the breakfast and midday rush.

  Farid looked up from wiping down a table. “You’ve returned. And with supplies, I see, and new clothing.”

  I wasted no time. “An interesting recommendation you made with Nizaar.”

  Farid swallowed, his hand pausing mid-wipe. “Yes. Many of the Highborns go to him. You would be surprised how often—”

  I leaned forward, lowering my voice as my hand drifted casually toward my dagger. “I know what you did, Farid. That little introduction almost cost me dearly. Trust me, I will make you pay dearly unless you tell me everything you know about Marda and Petya.”

  His eyes widened as he glanced over my shoulder, realizing that no help was coming.

  “I know nothing,” Farid said, his voice trembling slightly. “Nothing, except Marda and the foreigner left together early this morning. They were in a rush.”

  I had guessed as much already, but confirmation was satisfying. “Which way?”

  Farid closed his eyes. “The harbor. I swear by the Holy One, I know nothing else.”

  I watched him closely, reading the fear in his features. This was all I’d get out of him for now. “Pray for your own sake that your words are true.” I relaxed somewhat, stepping back. “Is Sathi around?”

  “In the kitchen, preparing for the midday meal,” Farid replied, visibly relieved to have the conversation shift.

  I nodded and made my way toward the back of the inn. The kitchen was warm and fragrant with the smell of baking bread and simmering stew. Sathi stood at a wooden table, expertly slicing vegetables with a speed that suggested long practice.

  “Sathi?”

  The Varkiss looked up, his amber eyes registering surprise. “Ah, the stranger from far away. Although I must admit, you are no longer looking like a stranger.” His vertical pupils widened slightly as he took in my new attire. “Your companion is not with you?”

  I studied him carefully, trying to read his reptilian features. The slight tilt of his head, the relaxed position of his neck frill—if I had to guess, he truly didn’t know what had happened with Petya. That would be good enough.

  “That’s why I’m here,” I said. “She’s gone off on her own—back toward where we were shipwrecked. She said she left something behind, but I fear for her safety. I need to find her before she gets into trouble.”

  Sathi’s head-frill rippled with what seemed to be concern. “The coastline can indeed be dangerous. But why tell me about it?”

  “I could use some help, to be honest. Someone familiar with the area, someone…” I hesitated, as if the thought had just occurred to me, “someone with natural abilities that might prove useful if we encounter dangers.”

  The Varkiss’s vertical pupils narrowed slightly. “What sort of dangers do you anticipate?”

  I shrugged, aiming for casual. “Who knows what’s out there? But I’ve heard Varkiss are naturally resistant to many hazards. And it seems you know the area well. I will pay, of course.”

  Sathi set down their knife, giving me their full attention. “Do you wish to hire me as a guide?”

  “Precisely. This will be a two-day job.” I made a show of considering. “How about…three silvers?”

  Sathi laughed harshly. “Three silvers to abandon my position here, potentially angering Marda and facing unknown dangers? I think not.”

  “Four silvers, then,” I countered. “Marda isn’t even here right now.”

  Sathi crossed his scaled arms. “Yes, this is true.” He seemed to think for a moment. “Well, Marda pays me one silver per day. To risk her displeasure, I would need at least six. That’s triple my usual pay.”

  I frowned, making a show of reluctance. In truth, six silvers seemed reasonable, but I didn’t want to appear too eager.

  “Five, and I’ll put in a good word with Marda when we return,” I offered.

  “Six, and you will handle Marda’s reaction yourself,” Sathi countered.

  I sighed dramatically. “Fine. Six silvers it is.”

  Sathi nodded, setting aside his apron. “I will need to inform the kitchen staff. Meet me outside in ten minutes. I want half now.”

  “You get one silver once we’re aboard the ship, when you can’t back out so easily,” I said.

  “Heh. You’ve sailed these currents before, eh?”

  I gave a small smile. “See you in ten minutes.”

  As Sathi left to make arrangements, I considered my dwindling funds. I had thirty-two silvers left if I set aside Sathi’s share. There should easily be enough to hire a boat to catch up to Petya and maintain a reserve for unexpected expenses.

  If she wasn’t going to that cave, then all this was a huge waste of time and money.

  But Petya’s own words were a ballast against this temporary uncertainty: “No man or monster will keep me from getting back to my children.”

  I had to admit, I was curious about that cave. Petya had raised a good point that the portal could come back anytime. I wouldn’t miss that for the world, and my new elixir gave me at least some protection from the dragon. And if dragons truly hunted as much as Yasmin hinted, the odds of it being outside the cave were quite good.

  Enough to stake my life on? Probably not.

  But I never said I was perfectly reasonable, did I?

  True to his word, Sathi emerged from the inn precisely ten minutes later, now wearing a simple traveling cloak and carrying a small pack of his own, along with a sturdy walking staff that looked like it could be effective in a fight. Not a javelin, but it would have to do.

  “My boss was not pleased,” he reported, “but I told her it was a matter of urgency. She expects me back by tomorrow evening."

  “Good. Now, we need to find someone willing to take us up the coast. Do you have any contacts with speedy boats?”

  “Not really,” he said. “I can talk to some Varkiss if need be. They're the best sailors.”

  “As long as it’s not too expensive.”

  “If speed is what you want, then I would recommend nothing else.”

  I decided to defer to his expertise.

  As we made our way through the streets toward the docks, I glanced sideways at my new companion. Sathi moved with a fluid grace, his bronze-scaled skin catching the sunlight in iridescent flashes. I wondered just how resistant to dragonfire those scales truly were.

  I’d mentioned nothing about the dragon, of course. That revelation could wait until we were practically there, when turning back would no longer be a simple option. Perhaps I could entice him with the promise of treasure if he grew hesitant.

  If all went well, we would catch Petya long before then. Despite her recent resourcefulness, someone like her couldn’t survive alone here. She needed a protector. It was easy to imagine how an unsavory type might corner her—like Marda, who clearly had her own agenda. Who knew what the innkeeper had told Petya, or what promises she had made to extract information or valuables from her? Such “kindness” rarely came without a cost.

  And another idea was already forming in my mind, quite outlandish but equally alluring. What if the portal were there? And what if, instead of returning to Earth, I could somehow bring Irina to this place?

  Was it really such a terrible idea? Irina was young enough to forget her old life. I could already imagine her gap-toothed smile, her wonder at this world of magic and mystery. She would be happy here. How could impoverished Bulgaria compare to a place like this?

  And I’d be doing her a favor twice over. She’d be reunited with her doting father, and she’d be free of my wretched harpy of a wife, Elena.

  Oh, how my thoughts run wild sometimes!

  I blinked as the harbor spread before us, a forest of masts and sails swaying gently on the tide.

  I pointed to a row of smaller vessels for hire swarming with Varkiss. “There. Let’s start with them.”