By the time we set out the following morning, things had calmed down considerably. Visk had slept under my wing again that night, this time without nightmares. Cassia had kept a close eye on the elf and hadn’t detected any further ‘provocations’. Sir Kenneth had fumbled through his training until he eventually exhausted himself.

  The boar meat would help feed my companions for another couple of days if we had trouble locating transport into the City of Osteriath. Cassia and Visk had consulted the rough map which Edith supplied to us and had determined that we’d reach the outskirts of the ‘Mirror Lake’ before sundown if we flew in a straight line.

  This close to ‘civilization’ as Sir Kenneth called it, I’d elected to fly close to the ground. There was significantly less chance of being spotted if I hugged the landscape. This slowed our progress as I worked my way along the terrain. With a night’s rest and a good meal, I was near fully rejuvenated.

  My passengers were still feeling the effects of the rough ride over the mountains. The harnesses were close to breaking from the harsh treatment they’d gotten. We’d need to acquire some replacements if we planned to travel home in the same manner. Magnus would need one as well, unless we planned to have him ride on my back. He was small enough that he could ride in front of Cassia without issue.

  I was grateful that I’d not need to fight the wind on the way home. The air currents would likely carry me right over the Cloudshear Mountains with relatively little difficulty.

  As the sun slid down the sky towards the afternoon, I started having to take evasive maneuvers. There were no sudden gusts of wind or enemies attacking. A great number of human buildings, farms, and villages began to appear nearly without warning. I’d almost flown right into a squat tower with several long panels sticking out of the side of it as I crested a ridge.

  That was as good a time as any to find a place to set down. I selected a patch of forest that seemed relatively untouched and sailed down into it. My passengers disembarked with now practised ease.

  “I about shite myself when you flew into that windmill,” Cassia said with a puff of air from her lungs. “We came so close that I could have reached out and touched the bricks!”

  “It’s not my fault that humans build things where people can run into them,” I grumbled in return as I stretched my wings. They were still sore from flying over the Cloudshears.

  “This is… where we’ll part ways for a bit I suppose?” Sir Kenneth asked. “It’s not too late in the day. We can set the packs on our backs and make some headway before dark. There’s too many folk around for us to… ah… ride on a dragon?” He’d sounded fairly confident at first, but lost his nerve when Cassia and Visk stared at him.

  Both the young woman and the elf seemed to have forgotten that they’d be entering the city without me. Cassia at least wasn’t keen on being separated from me. There was a deeper anxiety that I could feel across our connection, but I didn’t know its source.

  “Yeah I… I guess you’re right,” Cassia said with a huff. “Let's go over our story again. You’re a knight on…?”

  “Pilgrimage,” Sir Kenneth clarified. “You journey to holy places to seek enlightenment. No fighting, drinking alcohol, or whor- err, enjoying things you’re not supposed to aloud.” Both Cassia and Visk stared at the knight like he was an idiot. With a sigh, Cassia shook her head.

  “Right, on pilgrimage. Me and Visk are a scout and a bodyguard that the Baron hired to make sure you didn’t end up dead in a ditch. We’re visiting Osteriath because you got curious about Wizards. Keep it simple, don’t make anything up that’ll make it more complicated.”

  “So when we find the kid… you signal the Boss and he comes to kick the door in, grab us, and we all head for the horizon,” Visk said to Cassia. “The end of a heist never goes as planned. We can try and make it out of the city, but if this ‘Mortimer’ is a Wizard, we likely won’t get away without a fight. I’ve only run across a couple in my time and they were both stubborn and greedy bastards.”

  “We’re supposed to try out and talk to the… uhm, ‘alchemist’ Mortimer before anything else,” Cassia said before pulling a scrap of vellum out of her satchel. Edith had scrawled some instructions on how to reach the alchemist’s residence onto its surface. “We need to find…” Cassia squinted. “It says here we’re supposed to find the Dusk Quarter, then find the hill with the fallen temple. Well that’s… not ominous at all.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone letting a church go to ruin back home,” Sir Kenneth said with concern. “Not that we have many, but the Baron would have a fit!”

  “People on the Inner Continent have a long history with Gods,” Visk contributed. “Never really bothered with them myself, but every elf knows not to talk to humans about religion. Way too easy for someone to pull a knife and start killing each other over it.”

  Sir Kenneth seemed shocked by this claim, but I gave a low rumble to catch the group’s attention.

  “I will wait here until it grows dark enough to fly up undetected. If there is trouble, stay out of it. Stalk your prey carefully. If all else fails, run and protect your own lives. Edith will be exceedingly angry if any of us perish trying to rescue Magnus.”

  After that, there wasn’t much else to say. Cassia gave me a quick hug around the neck. The group secured the bags I’d brought with us onto frames that they could carry on their backs and set off into the woods.

  I tried not to think too hard about how I’d burn the whole city to the ground, if anything happened to them.

  Cassia walked with Visk a few steps behind Sir Kenneth. They were supposed to be protecting him, but people wouldn’t have their weapons drawn in ‘civilized’ territory. It would look more suspicious if they were on high alert.

  “Are you going to act like nothing happened with you and the ‘Boss’?” she asked the elf once the group was firmly out of earshot of the dragon. They’d emerged from the woods and headed down to a dirt path some minutes previous. Visk stiffened when Cassia spoke and had to speed up for a couple of steps to return to her side.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Visk replied coolly. “Nothing abnormal happened.”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Visk,” Cassia tutted, trying to sound reassuring rather than accusatory. “Sanguine might be up for playing cat and mouse, but he’s more sensitive than he lets on. A young lady knows when her dragon has gotten into trouble.”

  “A young lady ought to know when something isn’t her business,” Visk shot back stiffly. They sped up again for a few steps to put some distance between them, but Cassia quickly caught back up.

  “This young lady wants to know what you’re intending to do with her dragon,” she pressed more urgently. “Edith and I let you off with some light teasing before, but you’ve been acting differently since… Since just after the big fight with the other dragon.”

  Visk gave a snort. “Oh I was the one acting differently? I wasn’t the one who threw a hissy fit just because some blood got spilt and left ‘her dragon’ to recover by himself for a week.”

  “Wh- Who- That’s not fair!” Cassia hissed. “It was horrifying! Everything that happened, that is. I… I needed time to… to sort that out in my head. But this isn’t about me!” Visk kept speeding up to try and outpace Cassia, but the young woman kept right on the elf’s heels. Neither seemed to notice when they passed right by Sir Kenneth and kept going.

  “At least the ‘Hunter-Princess’ can admit the world doesn’t revolve around her,” Visk spat bitterly. “But unlike you, not all of us need to broadcast our love life to anyone who’ll listen.”

  “So it is about that!” Cassia hissed. “I knew that you thought he wasn’t just a monster, but it IS my business if you’re sweet on him.” Behind the pair, Sir Kenneth realized he was being left behind. The poor man tried to get their attention but was ignored. All he could do was speed up to try and catch them.

  “Sweet on the Boss? The big scary dragon?” Visk asked, sarcasm dripping off their words. “If anyone is sweet on him, it’s Edith. I’ve never met a woman who forgave a man for killing her ‘father’ so quickly. Then she turned around and begged him to go collect her brat so that they could all play house together.”

  Sir Kenneth was flabbergasted as well as out of breath. He had to jog to keep up with Cassia and Visk. All of those times that Raban berated him for not training harder came back to haunt him. The young knight wasn’t an expert of ‘young lady matters’ any more than the dragon was, but he couldn’t believe that the other two were fighting less than an hour after splitting off from said dragon!

  “Edith is-,” Cassia gasped. “Visk, why are you being so mean about this? You must know that I don’t bear you any ill will by now. Edith and I have tried our best to make you feel welcome after…”

  “After what, Cassia?” Visk growled. “After you sicced the Boss on me just for sorting through the loot like you all asked me to?”

  “Cassia, Visk-!” Sir Kenneth called out and was ignored.

  “Visk, you know it wasn’t like that! We were worried about-”

  “About being stabbed in the back?” Visk asked. “Don’t worry, I know plenty about stabbing people in the back. If I decide to stab you, I promise you it’ll be where I can look you in the eyes.”

  “CASSIA. VISK!”

  “WHAT?!” Both the elf and the hunter yelled as they turned towards Sir Kenneth behind them. It was only then that they realized they were walking through a village’s central lane. Curious bystanders watched the odd pair from their front porches or gardens. Sir Kenneth leaned forward with his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

  “Will you two bloody SHUT IT?!” the Knight snapped once he’d caught his breath. “I don’t pay either of you to bicker about your harking sweetheart!” With some effort, the young man stood back up straight. “We’ve passed two houses of respite while you two caterwauled.”

  Cassia and Visk both had the good sense to look chastened rather than tear the young knight a new arsehole for his impudence. They’d already made a mess out of the story that had been concocted for their presence in Osteriath and didn’t need to make it any worse.

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  “Right m’lord. Sorry m’lord,” Visk muttered. “We’ll find you a proper place to stay m’lord.”

  Since the show appeared to be over, most of the audience went back to their business. “Young love,” a nearby washerwoman tittered as she hung clothes up to dry. The wrinkles on her hands couldn’t begin to compare to the canyons and crevices on her face. “I remember when I were young. All the lads couldn’t keep their hands off of ole Patty’s patties.”

  “... Cassia, I promise to play nice from now on, so long as we agree to never let anyone like that near him,” Visk hissed to the young woman. ‘Him’ clearly referred to Sanguine. Without hesitation, Cassia took Visk’s hand and shook it.

  “Agreed. Now let’s find somewhere to sleep before our ‘Lord’ decides he needs new guards.”

  “I asked around. There will be a wagon passing through tomorrow which takes passengers into the city,” Sir Kenneth said as he sat down at a table with Visk and Cassia. The pair were still acting sheepish after their earlier display. “The locals make odds and ends that they sell to people in Osteriath proper.”

  “It's across the lake, isn’t it?” Cassia asked curiously. “Wouldn’t it be a ferry instead of a wagon?” Sir Kenneth grinned in excitement, happy to be the ‘voice of wisdom’ for once.

  “You would think so! But Osteriath is at the exact center of the lake,” Sir Kenneth explained. “There’s an island that the city covers end to end. Massive bridges connect the city to the mainland, so wide that four full wagons can drive side by side without touching!”

  Cassia’s mouth gaped slightly at such a preposterous claim. The largest bridge in the Barony was an ancient stack of stones that crossed the River Coil at its narrowest point. If someone drove a cart over it, other passerby would have to stand to the side and wait.

  “That’s a city of Wizards for you,” Visk commented blandly and sipped some weak ale from a clay mug. “Always got to show off who has the bigger ‘staff’.”

  The group had bought a round of drinks to ‘fit in’ with the tavern’s local customers. There hadn’t been a proper room available to rent, but they’d paid a couple of copper coins to sleep indoors by the fire when the business closed for the night.

  “I’d thought much the same, but the barkeep said that it wasn’t the Wizards,” Sir Kenneth said with a conspiratorial tone. “They rule the roost to be sure, but the locals say that the island was once full of old ruins. The Wizards are just squatting on top of what was there before.”

  “Best keep your nose out of Wizards business if you want to leave with it still attached, boy,” one of the locals at the next table muttered. “They throw gold around like it’s wheat chaff when one Tower wants to get one over on the other, but go looking where you ain’t asked to be, and they’ll turn you into a newt.”

  One of the other local men snorted. “Quit harassing the kid Jeoff. Just because you tried to pull a scam and got slapped for it, don’t mean you can scare off visitors.”

  Cassia, Visk, and Sir Kenneth all stared at ‘Jeoff’ as he got into an argument with the second man. There was a human palm print seared into his face. The burn had left a permanent foul looking scar on his visage that wrapped from his right cheek to his left eye.

  “Maybe we should be careful who we talk to,” Cassia whispered grimly. “I don’t want to get turned into a lizard or lose my nose.”

  “And here I thought you liked lizards,” Visk said idly, which earned them a small kick under the table.

  “If you two start fighting again, I’m telling ‘the Boss’ that you’re having a lover’s spat over him,” Sir Kenneth threatened. When both the elf and the young woman rounded on him, he stuck a finger in their faces. “Don’t think I won’t! Just imagine what he’d say if he heard how you two have been carrying on.”

  Visk and Cassia shut their mouths and contemplated their dragon staring down at them in confused disappointment. Then they thought about how one of them would need to awkwardly explain what they were fighting about to begin with. Once that mental picture had played itself out, they looked at each other in silence and nodded.

  Neither wanted to gamble on Sir Kenneth following through on his threat.

  “So we take a wagon into the city in the morning and try to find our way over to the Dusk Quarter?” Visk said out loud.

  “You’re going where?!”

  The trio turned to see that the man who had been arguing with Jeoff had turned to fully look at them. He was a middle aged man with an olive skin tone. Deep black curls and a goatee framed his face, tinged with strands of grey. An expression of concern rose on his features.

  “An… acquaintance of ours is said to be living in the Dusk Quarter,” Sir Kenneth said carefully. “We were told to see him when I passed through Osteriath on my pilgrimage.”

  “Whoever told you that wants you dead, kid,” the older man said with a shake of his head. “The Dusk Quarter isn’t a place for…” He squinted. “- a freshly minted knight on his first pilgrimage. It’s full of Osteriath’s dregs and cast-offs, top to bottom.”

  “Have you been there before sir?” Cassia asked the man. “If you have, have you met an Alchemist named Mortimer?”

  The man gave Cassia a puzzled look as he reached up and rubbed his chin. “... Aye, I remember such a man. Bit of a crazy old coot by my reckoning. Why do you want to meet someone like that?” After a moment, he stood up from his seat and moved the chair over to sit at the trio’s table, ale mug in hand. “My name’s Lucien by the way. Lucien of Morgale.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, mister Lucien,” Sir Kenneth said warmly. “I am Sir Kenneth of Reimse. These two are my servants, Visk and Cassia.”

  “You’re a fresh knight with two servants to your name already?” Lucien asked. “You must be the son of a Lord! That makes me wonder even more why you’d want to seek out a mad Alchemist.”

  “We need… a potion!” Sir Kenneth declared. “A fellow knight of mine has suffered a great misfortune that our local healers could not remedy. One of them knew that I was soon to head out on my pilgrimage and asked if I could seek out this Alchemist during my travels.” Internally, Cassia and Visk both groaned. They’d messed up their story by fighting and now Sir Kenneth had started expanding on the lie.

  “Is that so?” Lucien murmured. “Well I’m sorry to say, Sir Knight, that you may want to abort this quest of yours. Going into the Dusk Quarter will only bring you more suffering.”

  “We can’t just give up,” Cassia interjected. “We’ve already come too far just to turn back. Maybe… you seem like you know much about the area, Mister Lucien. Could we convince you to be our guide?”

  The older man leaned back in his chair and sipped at his ale for a couple of minutes before he answered. “...For a price.”

  “How much of a price?” Visk said with narrowed eyes. “Take heed that our good knight is on a Holy pilgrimage, sir. Blessed as he might be with good company, his Lord bid him to live frugally rather than waste coin on… diversions.”

  “Hmm. Not often you see an elf by themself round these parts,” Lucien commented as he stared back at Visk with a hooded gaze. “Your lot usually travels in packs, don't you?” Visk grimaced but did not answer. “Anyhow, how about five silver coins in my pocket? I need to travel into the city to sell my wares either way. Might as well take a detour on the way.”

  Five silver coins was a couple of weeks wages for a farmer. The group had not planned to stay in the city for long and as such had a grand total of ten silver coins between them. Visk tapped their slender fingers on the table.

  “Three, and we help you set up your market stall, if you have one,” The elf countered.

  “Three, if you help me set up and put on a little show to get people looking my way.”

  The old man and the elf stared at each other for a long moment before Visk spoke to Kenneth. “Please pay our new guide, Sir. I’ll be sure to get your money back if he plays us false.”

  “Good doing business with you,” Lucien said as Sir Kenneth pulled the coins from a pouch and slid them across the table. The merchant swiped the coins into his sleeve with a practiced hand. Visk’s eyes followed the movement with silent interest.

  “I’ll see you lot in the morning,” Lucien continued as he downed his ale and set the mug down on the table. “Wagon rolls by just after sunrise, so don’t sleep in. There’s no refunds if you don’t make it on time.” He waved goodbye to the barkeep and strolled out of the tavern before the group could reconsider.

  “Merchants,” Visk said with a ‘tsk’. “They act like Wizards but without the staff.”

  The following morning, all three were standing outside of the tavern just as dawn broke. They turned when they heard the creak of wagon wheels coming down the road. To their surprise, they saw Lucien sitting in the driver’s seat. He waved to them as he tugged on the reins and slowed it to a halt in front of the building.

  “You didn’t say you owned the wagon, Lucien,” Visk growled. “And you’re early.”

  “Did I not? Must have slipped my mind,” the merchant said in a chipper tone. “Don’t you know the early bird gets the worm? Hop in the back and we’ll be off.”

  The group climbed into the back of the wagon with their packs. Lucien lightly flicked the reins after they’d settled in, which set them rolling down the village road. A pair of worn out mules were responsible for pulling the wagon. A quick examination from Cassia suggested that they were simply old, rather than mistreated.

  “Wouldn’t have been trying to ride off with our coin, would you?” Visk asked sourly from the back of the wagon. The elf had slept especially poorly last night. Dark circles lurked under their eyes.

  “You wound me, ‘your majesty’,” Lucien replied jovially. “I’ve kept the same schedule for years. Old Betty and Sara here would load the cart and walk off without me if I tried to change it.” He gestured with a hand at the two mules. “Besides, we’re picking up some other passengers along the way. They’d be cross with me if I didn’t get them to the market in time to get the best stall locations.”

  “What do you sell Mister Lucien?” Cassia asked sleepily. She was still trying to huddle into her cloak in the spring morning chill. Cassia hadn’t realized how much she’d miss her dragon’s warmth until it was absent. “You only have a couple of sacks here in the wagon with us.”

  “Don’t go peeking now,” Lucien teased. “What’s in there isn’t for a proper young lady like yourself.” He chuckled to himself and rolled his eyes when Visk gave him a glare. “Fine, fine. I sell alcohol, Miss. Hooch, booze, the devil’s ichor. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “I didn’t take you for a brewer,” Sir Kenneth spoke up. “Do the authorities here regulate the sale of liquor? Back home, the Baron never minded if folk made ale with the left overs from the harvest, but anything more than that…”

  “Ah, you’ve got it in one lad,” Lucien agreed. The man reached up and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m no brewer. I’m a distiller. The locals favor wine and make it for themselves. I take whatever they have spare and turn it into brandy. It is… technically regulated, but lets just say that ‘I know a Wizard’ and leave it at that.”

  “Do the Wizards control everything in the city?” Cassia asked. “We don’t have many back home.”

  “Interesting.” Lucien leaned back in the driver’s seat and gave a deep sigh. “There’s the Lord Mayor and his men, who technically ‘control’ the city. There’s also several nobles that have estates in the city. They hold a decent amount of sway when they’re in town, but that’s more about money than authority.”

  “The Wizards… well first, they’re grouped into ‘Towers’. That’s literal towers, mind you. When we get close you’ll be able to see them. They rise above the city like trees in a forest. Almost every Wizard you see in the city belongs to one of the Towers. Each Tower has one Wizard at the top who runs everything beneath them. You’ll likely never see or hear of one of them. If you do… it’s probably a good idea to leave the city as fast as possible.”

  “So you made a deal with one of the Towers?” Visk shifted forward so that their head was up by Lucien in the driver’s seat. “One of them likes your brandy and… gives you a helping hand with the guards?”

  “Your Lord sure hired some sharp servants,” Lucien called back to Sir Kenneth. “But… sure. Let’s go with that, but don’t talk about it too loud eh? A man’s got to make a living.”

  The conversation trailed off as other passengers started to climb into the wagon. An eclectic group of artisans, independent merchants, and day laborers all joined the ride. By the time Lucien turned the cart to head down a gentle slope and towards the lake, it was packed full. Visk and Cassia ended up sitting almost on top of each other on one side while Sir Kenneth was squeezed in next to a burly porter on the other.

  “Wow, look at that,” Cassia gasped as the Mirror Lake stretched out in front of them. The gentle waters of the lake reflected the morning sun up towards the wagon. Off in the distance, Cassia could see an almost perfect image of the immense stone bridge reflected on its surface.

  The Mirror lake certainly lived up to its name.