A musket fired the moment Arz stepped into the study. He flinched, covering his head, then peeked up as a few voices all argued near the broken door.

  “Hey!” Isilhorn shouted.

  The four guards near the door all stopped their arguing and looked.

  “You could’ve killed us!”

  “Captain’s orders,” the one who had fired said. He set his musket’s butt on the ground and pulled out his gunpowder pouch.

  “Don’t reload that,” Isilhorn said. He was already marching across the room.

  Arz watched the exchange with a mix of confusion and admiration before rushing to the ingredients table. He started shoving things in his bag almost without a plan until he realized all of the Storm Tree leaves were still scattered on the ground.

  Somebody hit somebody else, and suddenly the whole group of guards, Isilhorn included, were hitting, shoving, and shouting.

  Arz didn’t bother looking over. Instead, he gathered all of the leaves the fastest he could manage. He checked his jacket and bag for sparkstones, dropped some food in Sal’s tank, then sprinted across the room and barreled into the jostling guards.

  They all sprawled out after tripping over one another.

  “Do I look evil?” Arz said when everyone quieted down.

  The four guards looked at one another, at Isilhorn, then back to Arz.

  “I don’t know how to answer that,” one said.

  “Look, I’m just a guy. I was born in Bralincote, just like you lot. The Guild of Wizards has all kinds of problems with me, but you know what? I don’t give a shit. Before now, I wasn’t doing anything to them. My daughter, who the Guild let burn to death, wanted me to use my alchemy to explore. That’s all I’m doing. Ask Isilhorn.”

  The guards all looked back at Isilhorn.

  “It’s true. He showed me another world and kept me safe.”

  “Can—”

  “No,” Arz said. “You just tried shooting me!”

  “I won’t do it again,” the guard said.

  “Right now, we’re going to get out of this building so I can do something. I’ll return to the Guild when I’m ready. I’m not trying to flee. Not in the traditional sense, at least. I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want you to hurt me.” Arz stood and offered his hand to the guards. He helped pull each of them up in turn while Isilhorn stood on his own.

  “Sorry about shooting your wall,” the guard said.

  “No need to apologize.” Arz patted the guard’s shoulder. “You might as well all shoot the wall. Just avoid the windows and Sal’s tank. Make it look like we had a bigger struggle. Tell them I overpowered you with alchemy.”

  “But sir, that would increase your bounty,” Isilhorn said.

  “It definitely doesn’t matter to me. Keep your jobs safe. Come up with a story together.” Arz hurried through the door and waved Isilhorn on.

  “Don’t mention me,” Isilhorn said to the guards as he ran past.

  Arz led the way down the spiraling, never-ending stairs to the surface. As much as he wanted to talk, he kept his words to himself. Hearing him monologue down the stairs would give the neighbors a chance to identify him. There could even be guards in other parts of the building who were currently slacking at their jobs but would jump right back into action if they heard Arz.

  Before long, they reached the bottom of the tower. Isilhorn went first. The young guard opened the door, stepped out, and nodded to someone outside.

  “See anything suspicious?” Isilhorn asked.

  “Nothing. Are you . . . Where are you supposed to be?”

  Isilhorn grabbed the guard’s arm and swept his foot out. The guard clattered to the ground and groaned.

  “Hurry,” Isilhorn said.

  Arz stepped out. “Sorry.”

  “You!” The guard tried standing up, but Isilhorn put his foot on the guard’s chest.

  “Stay down.”

  Arz wanted to stay and watch, but he wasn’t going to gain anything from that. He hurried along the outside of the tower and toward the edge of Bralincote. Isilhorn jogged up a short time later.

  “We should slow down. Running will draw suspicion.”

  “Are you an expert criminal now?” Arz asked. While he couldn’t hold back his remarks, he did fully acknowledge that Isilhorn was definitely correct. They dropped to a walk and Arz took a moment to fix his hair and wipe the sweat from his forehead.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “That depends.” Arz looked into each window they passed. They walked down a business avenue holding everything from cobblers to bakers. It was late enough into the night that none of the shops were open. Some had light inside as the owners continued to work or clean, but most were fully closed, blinds and all. “What day is it?”

  “Friday, I think. I don’t know how long we were gone.”

  “That gives us two days to come up with information and a plan to take down Ennbias. Ah, here we go.” Arz opened a door and gestured inside. Walking might attract less attention than running, but being on the street at night at all was a good way to ensure the guards took an extra close look.

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  Isilhorn walked inside without hesitation. Arz followed after, making sure the door latched fully. As late as it was into the night, there were only a few patrons inside. A man with a cigar and a plate of meat, a few quiet older folks nursing beer, and one group of younger people who were joking and laughing quietly in the corner.

  Overall, it was a fine atmosphere. Nothing to win awards over, but nothing to scare Arz away. Not that a lot of things scared him. He walked right up to the counter and passed too much money across the counter to the bartender. “Two plates of whatever food you have left, a bottle of whiskey, and a couple beers.”

  The bartender took the money, nodded, and set off getting everything he had ordered.

  Arz found a table in the opposite corner as the youths. He immediately cleared the tabletop of all the spices, sauces, and napkins. Isilhorn sat across and watched quietly.

  The bartender dropped off the food and drinks and left without a word.

  Arz took a drink of beer and pulled out his traveling mortar and pestle. He ate with one hand while grinding Storm Tree leaves with the other. It took quite a bit of coordination, but he managed to do it without accidentally grinding his food or eating the leaves.

  Isilhorn wolfed down the food and drank the beer like it was the first water he had seen in weeks. He poured whiskey for both of them and reclined the best he could in his chair.

  “Tired?” Arz asked.

  “It’s been a lot.” Isilhorn took a drink of the whiskey. “Do you really do this every day?”

  “Huh.” Arz added another leaf and continued grinding. He steadied the mortar with his free hand, making the whole process much faster. “I do. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. I just keep going.”

  “How aren’t you worn out?”

  Arz shrugged. He scooped the purple paste from the mortar and fit it inside a bottle. Until he had boiling water, he wouldn’t be able to make a return potion. At least the grinding step was done.

  “As long as I have a goal, I can keep going.” Arz downed his whole glass of whiskey. “I’ll be honest, Isilhorn. I don’t always know what the goal is. Alorala wanted me to explore, but explore what? And why? Can I live the rest of my life just exploring?”

  “Instead you want to take down the Wizards?”

  “The Guild,” Arz corrected.

  “Yeah, fine. Is that your new goal?”

  Arz stacked his plate on Isilhorn’s, grabbed the empty beer glasses, and walked them up to the counter. He got some water from the bartender, attempted a few jokes that failed the land, and brought the water cups back to the table. He passed one to Isilhorn.

  “I don’t know.”

  Isilhorn’s eyebrows shifted.

  “I don’t know if taking the Guild down is my new goal,” Arz said, hoping to clarify that he was continuing the previous conversation. He watched understanding click in Isilhorn’s features.

  “Why do it?”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  The young guard leaned his elbows on the table. “I don’t think you’re a criminal.”

  “Oh? Then what am I?”

  “Misunderstood and angry.”

  Humor dropped from Arz’s face. He scratched at his stubble. He needed to shave again, but that was going to be difficult if he couldn’t go back to his study.

  “I can’t keep helping you if you go against the Guild. If you do something illegal, you will be a real criminal,” Isilhorn continued. “I could speak to them, you know. Without the captain.”

  Arz sipped the water. It was an interesting proposal. “Speak to them about what?”

  “You. The anger and resentment. Your motivations.” Isilhorn poured more whiskey. “I think they could be convinced to sponsor you instead of prosecuting.”

  Arz swirled the whiskey. “What makes you think they’ll listen to some young guard?”

  “I don’t know, but I think I can do it.” Isilhorn leaned farther forward. “Why not let me try?”

  “You could get yourself arrested.”

  “Then you can free me. You owe me one.”

  Arz smiled. “I suppose you’re right.” He took a drink of his whiskey and took a moment as the warm liquor worked its way down his throat. He hadn’t had much alcohol lately and the pace at which he was drinking was already making his head feel light. He pushed the glass away. “Why should I even consider working with them?”

  “What’s more embarrassing than funding the criminal you’ve been pursuing?”

  “Hm.” Arz grabbed his notebook and started writing. “While I do agree, I don’t see how working with them would help me with my goal.”

  “Exploring?”

  “I don’t know what my family would’ve wanted, but I don’t think they’d want to see me be a criminal. Exploring can be fun, but I do need a goal. I wish I could ask Alorala. Explore what? Explore why?” He took a long, quiet moment to let the thoughts finish. “I used to help explore new places on Earth. I was one of the people who discovered red oil down at the bottom of Mount Parikus. I even worked with some other alchemists to find new uses for rainbow salt, instead of just snorting it.”

  “Have you found anything while exploring that could help people in Bralincote?”

  Arz thought of the dead worlds he had found, then specifically of the AZ-32 robots with their terrifying weapons. The slimes of Jumtha had less terrifying technology, but how could it help?

  “Maybe.”

  “If you weren’t running all the time, you could spend more time in your study and you could try to help other people. You might hate the Guild, but not everyone in Bralincote is bad.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Arz finished a sentence and stared at the sloppy handwriting in his notebook. After a moment, he leaned on the table and flipped the notebook around for Isilhorn to see.

  All criminal charges are dropped on Arz and Isilhorn.

  The “Laws of Nature” are no longer a reason to charge someone with crimes. They aren’t real laws and shouldn’t be treated as such.

  I will get a scribe who is not a Guild employee who can transfer my notes into my tome.

  I will get the supplies I need without question.

  Higgrion will stay away.

  A group of guards will join my adventures when necessary, picked by Isilhorn.

  In exchange for these things, Arz Kurana will work with the Guild of Wizards to help better Bralincote. His notes, once scribed, will be accessible to the Guild of Old Hags to further their understanding of alchemy.

  Arz will not be a Wizard or any other ridiculous title.

  Arz will not be present for any Guild meetings.

  Isilhorn finished reading through the list. “I think this could work.”

  “I can’t say I’m as certain as you are, but I am willing to give this crazy idea a try. I have a few recipes I’ve been eager to try, and I do need to get back to the slimes at some point to let them know I’m alive. As far as they know, a frog ate me.”

  “Uh.”

  Arz gently tore the sheet from his notebook and passed it to the guard. “First thing in the morning.”

  Isilhorn read the list once more and nodded slowly. “They don’t meet on Saturdays.”

  “First thing Monday morning. Or just go to Jaralath’s house and pound on the door for as much as I care.” Arz stood on unsteady feet, carefully approached the counter, and slid more money across the bar. “Two rooms, please.”

  The bartender took the money and passed two keys over.

  Arz returned to the table and handed a key to Isilhorn. “We’ll see if I still think this is a good idea in the morning.”

  Isilhorn nodded slowly and poured another glass of whiskey. “I need a bed.”

  Arz slid the glass away and helped Isilhorn to his feet. “Let’s get to bed.”