“So, how you feeling, Skwilly?” Malcolm looked down.

  “I may be getting adjusted. Only felt a little queasy this time.”

  “Better than Valgrin.” Malcolm watched his friend wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “You ready to go?”

  Valgrin groaned and nodded. “As long as you’re not counting on me being anything other than walking in silence.”

  Malcolm grinned and patted Valgrin’s shoulder. “I can work with that. Now hand me the map Izzy gave you and I’ll lead the way to Brechin’s.”

  The group wound their way through the narrow cobblestone streets of Devwey, passing beneath overhanging second stories that nearly touched across the alleyways. Malcolm paused, craning his neck to study the distinctive architecture—steep roof peaks that soared upward, their slate tiles weathered to a patchwork of grays and greens. Massive oak beams, darkened by centuries of rain and snow, braced the exterior walls where they met the sharply sloped rooflines, creating deep shadows beneath the eaves even in the midday sun.

  "Not sure I'd want to be here during the winter," he said, pointing to the steep angles. "Those roofs tell me everything I need to know—snow must pile up shoulder-deep, maybe worse. Bet the locals either don’t use their front doors in winter, or more likely, have magic to clear the massive amounts of snow away."

  Valgrin nodded, groaned and then kept on walking.

  They only had to make one course correction during the twenty-minute walk. Valgrin attempted a feeble joke, the words barely leaving his lips, and then lapsed back into silence.

  "We're here." Malcolm pointed to the weathered wooden sign hanging above the shop entrance, its faded letters spelling 'Brechin's' in an elaborate script that curled like smoke. The door itself was painted a mustard yellow with gray trim that had begun to peel at the corners. "Must not like daylight," he added, noting how the facade lacked even a single window, just smooth stone interrupted by the solitary door

  They stepped into a room so dim that Malcolm had to blink several times for his eyes to adjust. The air hung heavy with the mingled scents of incense, dust, and something metallic that tickled the back of his throat. Malcolm followed behind Skwilly, the floorboards creaked beneath their weight as he pulled the door closed with a soft thud. Tables of dark, polished wood crowded the middle of the room, their surfaces cluttered with trinkets that glinted despite the low light—brass figurines, crystal spheres, and peculiar mechanisms whose purposes remained mysterious. From the walls hung displays of amulets on tarnished chains and rings of every metal imaginable, some set with stones that seemed to pulse with inner light

  “Hello?” Malcolm called.

  “Just a minute.” A gruff voice answered from behind a gray curtain at the back of the store. “Just need to stopper this potion and I’ll come out front.”

  A few minutes later, a tall, lanky man stepped through the curtains, ducking his head to avoid the rod. He wore a navy robe that might have once been velvet but was now worn thin at the elbows and splattered with an array of stains—rusty brown blotches, iridescent green splotches that seemed to shimmer when he moved, and one perfect circle of silver that caught the light like a tiny moon.

  Malcolm shocked himself by noticing the stains before his eyes took in shoulder length, frizzy,

  that flowed from his scalp in frizzy, untamed coils the color of radioactive lemon peels. Whoa, that’s glow in the dark yellow.

  The man finished wiping his hands and set the rag on the counter, pushing away a few trinkets in the process. “You the two onboarded Izzy told me about?”

  Malcolm nodded. “That would be us.” He held out a hand. “Malcolm, this here is my friend Valgrin,” he pointed toward the floor. “And our companion, Skwilly.”

  “I’m Brechin, but I imagine you figured that out.” Brechin finished the handshake and pulled his hand down to the counter. “You’re here for the masking magic and to get the details on a trip I’d like you to take. Follow me to the back where I’m set up for you.” He looked down as Skwilly trotted by him on the way to the back. “Never worked on a priggy before.”

  Valgrin stepped to the side to let Brechin take the lead. “We wondered if they could track us. Could they track Skwilly? They had access to most anything they needed from all three of us to set a tracker.”

  “Hmm, never thought about tracking a creature in the group. Would work the same way for several methods of tracking. We’ll need to make one for the priggy, too.” Brechin stepped to the front, turned and waved over his shoulder. “Follow me.”

  The three followed Brechin through a second curtain at the end of a short hall into his workshop. Despite the drab walls, the space was surprisingly clean. Two workbenches dominated the center, their surfaces barely visible beneath an organized chaos of half-finished projects. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined every wall, their wooden frames bowing slightly under the weight of countless bottles, jars, and boxes stacked three-deep in places.

  “This way.” Brechin pointed to a couple of chairs sitting in a curtained off square. “Please sit. Um, Skwilly, do you want or need a chair?”

  The priggy looked up, shaking his head. “No, I’m good. But thank you for asking.” Skwilly squealed. “Wait, you talked to me.”

  “I know a few languages,” he raised his hands in the air. “And I can access the ability to understand and speak many more, as needed.”

  “With my link to Valgrin, I’m learning to understand what he hears. So it took me a second to realize you’d spoke. Sorry for not noticing right away.”

  Brechin nodded absent-mindedly. Then he stepped back outside the makeshift room and called out. “Ylnah, our visitors are here. Please, bring your gear and equipment.“

  Brechin rejoined the others and sat down. “Ylnah is my daughter. She’ll take the blood samples from each of you. I’ll use that to calibrate the masking to you individually. While she’s doing that, I’ll tell you about the job I need you to do.”

  Malcolm bit his tongue to stop from yelping as a nearly seven foot tall, porcelain skinned young woman ducked into the room. She muttered some version of hello and dropped her eyes to stare at the floor. Her vibrant magenta hair cascading down covering just below her eyes. Did she go heavy on the blush or is it natural for her to have a crimson stripe across her cheekbones? She looks like she’s wearing football shoulder pads, except it’s obviously just her.

  “Ylnah, head up and speak clearer, please.” Brechin’s voice sounded as if he uttered the phrase frequently.

  She looked at Malcolm, then at Valgrin. “Hello, I’m Ylnah.”

  Now Malcolm fought to keep the surprise at her voice from showing on his face. That’s the voice of someone half her size and probably half her age. His thoughts about her voice vanished when he caught sight of her ears—long and tapered to delicate points that swept backward from her head, their tips dotted with crimson and burgundy freckles.

  “Greetings, Ylnah,” Malcolm put on his best winning people over grin. “So, you’re here to drain our blood?”

  “D…d…drain?” Ylnah’s mouth gaped as she twisted to face her father. “What?”

  Brechin chuckled gently. “I believe our guest is joking. I told him you’d be taking blood.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Yes, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Malcolm stood up and stepped toward the woman.

  Ylnah backed up before shaking her head and standing still. Malcolm noticed her drooping shoulders, and slight hunch—She’s bothered by her size. What do I do, say, now?

  Malcolm backed to his chair and sat down. “I’m ready. Do what you need to do. I can tell I will be in good hands.”

  The faintest of smiles from Ylnah confirmed his choice of words. She then pulled out a couple of small tube-like bottles, then waved her hand over Malcolm’s forearm. Blood filled both bottles.

  “That could be dangerous.” Valgrin said.

  Malcolm remembered to shut his mouth. “No pain.”

  “Explain it to them, my dear.” Brechin coached his daughter.

  With a small shrug, Ylnah stared at the bottles, then spoke. “I’m half-Chavor, my mother is…was…Chavorian. As a race, we have internal magic, which is bound by certain rules that if broke, the caster would die. The magic I used is restricted. I can only use it on those who give consent and I have to have a centering point before casting—so the containers, or whatever, have to be prepared ahead of time.”

  “It’s impressive, and I’m glad of the restrictions.” Malcolm flashed another smile.

  Ylnah moved over to Valgrin, setting two more bottles nearby.

  “Dear, I forgot to tell you when you came in, we’ll be taking some from the priggy. Only fill those containers half full. He’s small enough. I don’t need more than that.”

  Ylnah nodded, and then Brechin motioned to Valgrin and Malcolm.

  “While she gets ready for the priggy and finishes up, let me tell you about the job,” Brechin’s chair screeched as he moved it closer. “Ahgg, sorry about that. The job, in summary, is you go into an old temple ruins and bring back some water from the main fountain there.”

  “And the catch?” Valgrin drew out his words.

  “A mud or rockslide created a way into this temple. It had been buried a long time ago. It seems some goblins have staked a claim there, so getting to the water will require dealing with goblins.” Brechin leaned forward.

  “Anything else to deal with?” Valgrin stood up.

  “Nothing we know about.”

  Malcolm held up a finger. “I have to say, with no offense intended, this seems way too simple—unless we’re talking a few hundred goblins.”

  “By our count, there are ten of them. Two left yesterday, so that number could increase any day now. I think a scouting party is sticking around there so the goblins can lay claim to the temple.” Brechin laid back in his chair, watching Valgrin.

  “Move quick or it becomes difficult, hmm.” Valgrin tapped a finger on his chin. “What is this water we’re getting?”

  “Sort of a secret. But since you’ll be retrieving it for me—it’s a rare component to some ancient alchemical potions. My research into finding this water led me to monitor several places nearby. Almost two weeks ago, I saw the results of the rockslide. Ylnah and I did a quick investigation. It seems to be a way into the lost temple. I was planning on reaching out to an adventurer friend to make sure. A few days ago, while checking the site. I saw the goblins in my scrying over the area.” Brechin’s eyes stared at the pair when he finished explaining.

  “And that’s where we come in. You want us to go clean out goblins.” Malcolm stood and paced. “We’ll need directions, an estimated number of goblins, and any other information you have.”

  “Why not have your adventurer friend do this?” Valgrin asked.

  “She said she couldn’t make it here in anything less than a month, possibly longer. Then Izzy called up in the middle of me trying to make another plan.” Brechin looked over at Valgrin and shrugged. “As far as directions, Ylnah will take you. Number estima…”

  “Ylnah, have you been on an adventure where fighting happened?” Valgrin asked.

  The young girl shook her head.

  Valgrin grimaced. “Then I’d recommend you not going with us. Too many unknowns and we haven’t trained together.”

  “She has to get you there. One, the location is a secret. Two, she can get you there in an hour. By foot it will take you four days or more.” Brechin ran a hand through his hair.

  “Do you have a private portal?” Malcolm asked.

  “Yes, in a manner of speaking.” Brechin pointed to his daughter. “With her Chavorian magic, Ylnah can create small private portals. She’s established several centering points in the surrounding area, and can jump to any point visible without centering.”

  Valgrin blanched, “How many portals will we have to go through to get there? Portals and I don’t get along.”

  Ylnah looked up at Valgrin with a slight smile. “My magic works differently. I can’t promise you won’t have problems, but I can tell you it is much milder on your system. I can transport up to four or five, depending on size, and myself. So the three of you will be no problem. And I promise to stay in the background, unless you tell me otherwise. I’m more of a support the team person than a front-liner.”

  “I’m still not comfortable with you going with us—but sounds like that’s one condition we have to accept.” Valgrin looked over at the nodding Brechin.

  “I hate it being this way. Ylnah can take care of herself, maybe more flight than fight, but she can defend herself and others if called upon.” Brechin’s fond gaze lingered on his daughter. “She’s trained with a few defensive spells and at least one offensive one.”

  Malcolm clicked his tongue. “I don’t have an issue with her joining us, as long as she follows commands.” He paused for a second. “If it comes to that.”

  “I’ll follow. You have more experience at this. It would be stupid of me not to listen and do what you ask.”

  “Okay, that’s settled.” Brechin stood up. “Ylnah, do you have everything in your bag? Containers for the water, first aid, and supplies?”

  “Yes, you looked through my bag this morning.”

  “True, but a father has to worry and ask. Just because I said you would go doesn’t mean I like you being out there.”

  “What offensive and defensive spells can you cast? It would be better to know now instead of having to risk having to find out during a fight.” Valgrin asked.

  Ylnah nodded. “Most of these spells are variations I’ve practiced until I can draw on my internal magic to use them. So they behave differently than the spell as written in the resource books. For offensive spells I have, what I call Stealth Daggers and Exploding Air. My defensive spells include Cube of Protection, Force Wall, Slow Enemy, and Group Invisibility. My portal spell works as a great rapid retreat.”

  Valgrin pointed at Ylnah. “Impressive list. If they are all titled by functionality, I can guess what most of them do—however, I am curious about the offensive ones. Last thing you want in battle is an attack. You’re not sure where it came from.”

  “With Stealth Daggers, I can cast up to six daggers to spin around me and fight defensively with no direction from me. The daggers’ skill level is sixth level fighter with three levels of fencing enhancement. The daggers, being constructed with air, are almost invisible.”

  Valgrin let out a low whistle. “That alone should be enough to keep you safe, especially from the first attacker. Others may be more cautious if they see their cohort diced up in front of them. What about Exploding Air?”

  “Obviously, another air manipulation spell. I create a small ball of air in my hand and throw it at my target. It absorbs magic energy on the way to the target. If the color of the ball is yellow or white when it hits the target—it’s basically a concussive attack. Will knock the target and anyone within five feet backwards and possibly to the ground. If it’s orange or red when it gets to the target, it’s absorbed some fire energy and adds flames to the explosion. Blue or silver means some type of water or ice magic—could be ice spikes or water splashing.”

  “Spin the wheel of magic for results. How accurate are your throws?” Malcolm asked.

  “I look at my target and think about them when I throw. That sets the point of explosion. It can be dodged, but if they are still within five feet, it will explode and they will get some of the impact. And no, I can’t control it to only impact targets or enemies, so if either of you are with five feet, it impacts you too.”

  “Splash damage could come in handy.” Malcolm turned to his friend. “For those two spells alone, I vote to keep her.” Malcolm took a slightly sadistic glee in watching his friend glitch.

  After a pause, Valgrin asked, “Keep her?”

  Got him. Malcolm chuckled. “Just making sure you’re listening. And keeping you on your toes.”

  Valgrin sighed. “I don’t need any help to stay on my toes. Seems like this place does a good job of that about every ten minutes or so.”

  “Valid point.” Malcolm put his hands on his hips. “Ylnah, if we’re going to be climbing rocks, going exploring, and probably running. Are you sure that robe is what you want to be in?”

  “I have pants and a top ready. I’ll go change now and then we can get going.” She turned and walked away.

  Brechin waited for a minute before addressing Valgrin and Malcolm. “I have kept her away from the world and this type of thing until now. As a father, I appreciate your concern and questions. Eases my mind a little about all of this.” Brechin looked through the doorway before continuing. “She doesn’t know this, but one of the things I hope to use this water for is a potion that could alter her skin tone to be something closer to what she wants it to be. She struggles with her confidence around others because of her size and her color being different from everyone else. I have a few ideas about some potions that could help her out there and also assist her in using her magic.”

  “And make a little money?” Malcolm arched his eyebrows.

  “Everyone needs income. So, yes, if I can make a profit from the water—I’ll do so. However, only after I work on the what I’ve mentioned to you—and I ask that you won’t mention to her. Don’t want to get her hopes up and then have to dash them.”

  “I understand.” Valgrin put his hand on Brechin’s shoulder. “As one father to another, I will do my best to make sure she’s protected and isn’t given any false hope.”

  “That’s all I can ask and I know something could come up that spoils some or all of that.” Brechin looked back through the doorway. “You’ll want to leave as soon as she gets back here. I’ve asked her to take a few jumps before jumping to the one close to the temple. In case someone is watching. Paranoid, but this stuff is rare enough that others may try to steal it from us. Rare enough to only a few others in the world, thankfully.”

  “Did you hear that, Skwilly? Several jumps.” Malcolm grinned.

  “I don’t think I’m the one to worry about.” Skwilly’s snout pointed into the air when he looked up.

  Valgrin answered in a monotone drone. “Yes, I heard, too. Yippee.