“So,” Alycia announced, bringing her hands together in a dramatic clap, “that’s the end of today’s lectures.”

  Finally.

  Viktor let out a long, slow breath. By the time the last bit of air left his nostrils, everything the blonde had been vomiting over the past few hours had already evaporated from his mind. Today’s digging had not been successful. Only dirt, mud, and pebbles. Not a glimpse of anything remotely useful.

  Rhea, as usual, was going to stay behind, trying to impose some semblance of order on this chaotic mess of a room. Seriously, the girl should have given up by now. Three months of heroic effort, and the place still looked like a pigsty. Oh well, whatever. Not his problem. He was just going home.

  And, of course, that was when Alycia spoke again.

  “How are things going between the Guild and the caravan station lately?” she asked, just as his hand was about to reach the door handle.

  Viktor glanced back over his shoulder. “Alright, I guess,” he said. “Why don’t you ask Rhea? She works there, not me.”

  “Oh, come on. You know more about these things than she does. She wasn’t even aware of Claire’s mission until it was already over.”

  “That’s true.” Rhea nodded. “I, along with almost everyone in the Guild, was surprised when the Overseer sent his messenger. Then, we were completely in shock after Guildmaster told us about Iskora’s plan. No one had seen it coming.”

  “But it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Viktor said. “That’s what matters.”

  “And a not-so-small part of that success is thanks to me,” Alycia said, lifting her chin high, smugness practically oozing out of her body.

  Ah. So that was it. The real reason why she had brought this up. She had been waiting for a whole month, starving for a “thank you” from him like a dog eyeing a bone. And now, she had run out of patience.

  The thing was, the mission’s outcome had less to do with her and more with Rennald’s bizarre faith in him and Claire, a mystery he still hadn’t been able to untangle yet.

  That said, the blonde hadn’t been completely useless. After all, she had managed to cause a major commotion on the first floor of the station that day, entirely independent of what happened in the courtyard. And Yvonne, following his instructions to the letter, had successfully infiltrated the top floor and planted an ink drop from the Reliquary that he had temporarily lent her back through Orloth. In hindsight, though, it wasn’t really necessary, since Rennald was practically on his side now. Still, keeping an eye on your allies was not the most terrible idea. It helped avoid unpleasant surprises.

  “The one who sealed the doors that day was you, right?” Viktor asked. “How exactly did that work? You entered, then never went near the entrance again. Many people, including Jeanne, passed through after you without any issue. And then, suddenly, everyone was trapped.”

  Yes, that day, the doors of the caravan station’s administrative building had decided to glue themselves together. Panic spread. Guards were mobilized. In the end, they had no choice but to batter the doors open. All of that happened while Viktor and Claire were sipping tea in Rennald’s warm, comfortable study. They hadn’t heard about it until the next day.

  “Oh, silly Quinn,” Alycia said with a mischievous grin. “It’s very simple. I have two different substances, which are harmless on their own, but once they’re mixed, after a certain amount of time, a slow reaction will produce an incredibly strong adhesive. So I mix them right before I enter, and quickly apply the mixture to the lock as I pass through. Well, you can imagine the rest.”

  “What do you mean by ‘a certain amount of time’? Did you know the precise moment the door would be sealed?”

  “It can’t be precise, of course. Could be anywhere between one and two hours.”

  Viktor stared at her. “That means, your so-called distraction could’ve happened long before or well after we even reached Rennald?”

  “Well... yes.” Alycia flashed a shameless smile.

  Crazy blonde, indeed. Fortunately, Claire’s mission hadn’t depended on her. As for Yvonne, she just acted when the opportunity presented itself, entirely independent of any schedule.

  No “thank you” for her, then. So Viktor opened the door, went down to the first floor, said goodbye to Jeanne, who was yawning behind the counter, and left the shop.

  The air brushed past his face as he stepped out, carrying the faint sweetness of blooming flowers. It was warm and soft, a welcome change from the biting cold of the weeks past. Winter was finally over. The sun hung low in the sky, spilling gold across windows and rooftops, as if trying to make up for months of dull, gray neglect.

  And people were out. For the first time in what felt like an age, the streets were busy. Vendors had set up stalls. Workers were hauling carts. Children darted between their parents, talking and laughing. There was even a young woman, a waitress of the Emberwood Inn judged by the uniform, who limped past, dragging a foot behind, leaning heavily on a stick.

  Wait, what?

  That was when he realized it was someone he knew. So he strode over to her.

  “Hey, Nadja. What happened to you?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Copper ringlets bounced against her shoulders as she turned her head.

  “Ah, Quinn,” she said with a tired smile. “As you can see, my leg hurts.”

  That was one way to put it.

  “I’d stacked too much on my tray,” she continued. “Then I lost my balance. Instead of letting it fall, I tried to save it. I ended up landing at a bad angle. Everything still broke anyway, including my ankle.”

  “You really shouldn’t have pushed yourself like that.”

  “And who was going to do the work instead?” Nadja snorted. “The inn is still short-staffed, so the workload just keeps growing.” She let out a sigh. “If Yvonne were still around, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Please don’t blame me for your misfortune like that.

  “Why didn’t you ask Lloyd to heal it?” Viktor asked. “He could fix that in an instant.”

  “I know. That’s where I’m going now.”

  “But the inn is in the opposite direction.”

  “Oh. You didn’t hear? He’s moved out and rented a place of his own. It serves as both his house and his shop.”

  “Shop?” Viktor arched a brow. “What is he selling?”

  “Um... his services? He’s a healer, you know.”

  Of course, I know. But Emerald Mages were supposed to heal people for free.

  “I’ll go there with you,” Viktor said. He had decided to check it out. “Need a hand?”

  Nadja nodded. “Yes, that would help.”

  He moved to her side, sliding a hand under her elbow, and she leaned into him. As they walked, he couldn’t help noticing how her body quivered with every step. She winced, squeezing his hand for a moment before loosening it again.

  If he were allowed to reveal his Thauma to other people, then he could just conjure a gust of wind to lift her off the ground and glide her to Lloyd’s house without breaking a sweat. Too bad, it was not an option. So they had to get there the old-fashioned way, step by painful step.

  Before long, they arrived at a modest two-story building with a sign that read “Healing House.” So this is the place, huh? Pushing the door open, they stepped inside—

  “You are a disgrace to our Order!”

  —and were greeted by a yell right in their faces.

  An old man in a green robe stood in the middle of the room, his face red and his arms flailing in anger. He was scowling at another man, who was lounging behind the counter. The very same person they had come to see.

  “Come now, Tobias,” Lloyd said. “I’m just helping people. Easing their suffering. Isn’t that exactly what the Order wants us to do?”

  “But you’re not supposed to charge them money!”

  That’s what I was thinking too, Viktor thought.

  Lloyd shrugged, leaning back casually. “I didn’t charge them. I merely accept donations. Which they did of their own accord. I never ask. Since when is accepting a donation wrong? Pretty sure you’ve got a donation box at your place, too.”

  “Donation, huh? Then what the hell is that?”

  Viktor shifted his gaze toward where the old man was pointing, and he saw a large parchment hanging on the wall behind Lloyd. In bold letters, it said:

  “Heal Minor Wounds: 1 silver coin

  Ease Pain: 6 copper coins

  Heal Moderate Wounds: 4 silver coins

  Cure Common Diseases: 3 silver coins

  Cure Poison: 5 silver coins

  ...”

  A price list, obviously.

  “A mere suggestion,” Lloyd said with a smile. “I worried my custo—my patients might donate too much, so I made a guideline to prevent them from going overboard. I’ve never told anyone they had to pay.”

  Yes, but you literally put a giant price list right where everyone can see it. And this was the east side of town, the fancier side. Full of people with coins to burn and faces to save. Anyone who came here for the services would naturally feel obliged to pay.

  “You...!” Tobias growled.

  “Anyway,” Lloyd said, “I have a patient waiting. A young lady, clearly in pain. You want to keep her suffering longer just so you can yell in my face?”

  The old man snapped his gaze toward them, then softened a bit as he looked at Nadja. “Child, what happened to you?” he asked.

  “Ah... well, I fell and broke my ankle.”

  “Is that so?” Tobias said. “It’s a simple injury. I can heal you right away. And unlike a certain someone,” he added, casting a sharp glance at Lloyd, “I won’t make you pay for it. People are meant to help each other, without ulterior motive. Now, take a seat.”

  “Well... yes...”

  With Viktor’s assistance, Nadja eased herself onto a chair against the wall, removing her shoe to reveal the swelling beneath. Tobias knelt down and placed a hand on her ankle. Closing his eyes, he murmured an incantation.

  What a pity, Viktor thought. If only he had Mastery of Life, he would be able to analyze the spell and extract some Sigils from it. But it was fine. He would get there eventually anyway.

  After a couple of minutes, Tobias opened his eyes, straightening himself. “How do you feel now, child?”

  Nadja’s eyes widened. “It... it doesn’t hurt anymore!” She lifted her foot, wiggled her toes, then stood up. A few cautious steps later, she spun around. “It’s like I’ve never been injured in the first place. Thank you very much!”

  “You’re welcome. It’s simply our Order’s duty to help those in need.” Tobias then turned to Lloyd, flashing a victorious smile. “I’m leaving now. But don’t think it’s over. I won’t rest until you abandon this... misguided approach of yours.”

  With that, he stormed off.

  “Since I’m healed,” Nadja said, “I should head back to the inn. And... thank you, Quinn, for helping me get here.”

  And she left as well.

  “Poor you,” Viktor said once they were alone in the shop. “Your customer got snatched away right under your nose.”

  Lloyd chuckled. “What he did was totally unnecessary. Putting aside the fact that Nadja is an acquaintance, I never charge women under thirty.”

  “So it’s charging now?”

  “Come now, Quinn. It’s just us here. No need for such bullshit. Of course I charge people for my services. Is that wrong?”

  “No.”

  Even he had to admit that the rules of the Emerald Order were far too rigid for their own good.

  “Who is he, anyway?” Viktor asked.

  “Old Tobias,” Lloyd replied. “Keeper of the Sanctuary in Daelin.”

  Viktor arched a brow. “We have a Sanctuary here?”

  “Of course you do. The Emerald Order has a Sanctuary in every settlement. It’s on the west side of town. Though, despite being the Keeper, he’s the only one there. I heard he used to have a helper, but she got killed in the dungeon or something.”

  The west side, huh? Viktor thought. So it was an ugly building drowned among even uglier neighbors. No wonder he had never realized it was actually a Sanctuary.

  “By the way,” Lloyd said. “I’m going there tomorrow. Want to come along?”

  “You going there? What for? After he comes here and makes a fuss in your place, now it’s your turn?”

  “Of course not. Do you think I’m that petty?” Lloyd waved a hand. “No. Daelin is growing, more people are coming, and more patients will end up at Tobias’s place. He’s alone and getting overwhelmed. So I plan to drop by a day or two per week to help.”

  “He comes here to yell in your face, and you want to help him?”

  “Not help him. Help the people. I’m still an Emerald Mage, you know. Sure, I prefer to get paid, but aiding those in need once in a while doesn’t kill me.”

  “Also,” Viktor said with a grin. “If he owes you a favor, maybe he’ll be less likely to come here and cause a ruckus in your shop, right?”

  “You got it.” Lloyd smiled. “So, you in or not?”

  Well, making friends with the local Emerald Mages wouldn’t hurt, since he would need to study their spells eventually. And what better way to do that than to be there when they treated their patients? Sure, he already had Lloyd, but who knew if the guy would still be around by the time he unlocked his Mastery?

  “Sure, why not?”