We ride in his carriage to the enchanter. It's in another section that's higher security than the gang's, but only by one level. In fact, it's the same section that Greg tried to kidnap me in. If I weren't so confident in my ability to read him, I might be suspicious.

Not looking away from the window I speak as if a passing thought. "I need you to put together some items to sell to the Mud Hares."

"Sell or give?" he asks, seemingly willing to do either.

"Sell," I emphasize. "You're my client too; it's my duty to help you both grow. Even if I was willing to take your assets for them once, some of it will be a recurring transaction. I'm not asking you to ignore your profits, but don't cheat them either."

He nods. "What are the items?"

"Arms and armour first. Nothing too robust. Only sidearms: no specialized anti-armour and no swords. Maybe two army standard daggers for each member, a handful of small war axes and better crafted cudgels. Armour wise I'll need five suites of something subtle, so send someone with your representative to measure the wearers. Probably jackets with steel plates inserted inside over vitals or just chain shirts to go under what they normally have. Finally, two pairs of crossbows: one light and one heavy with bolts. The rest will just be a mixture of basic supplies: Food, fuel, clothes and medicine.

"I'll be paying for half of the arms, so price doesn't matter as much as it'll be things they can't easily get otherwise. They'll be paying for the rest in full though, so only include items that you can make a profit on while being cheaper than they can get otherwise."

He nods. "The arms will be simple, but the last bit might be tricky. I can afford a lower profit margin for regular customers, but it won't be that much cheaper than what they can get in section. The problem is that they're, in a sense, triple landlocked. By which I mean any path between them and a gate to another section requires going through three other territories, which of course means paying protection for any carts that transport the supplies.

"Fortunately, I already have negotiated routes to my operations near them, but while two of them are monthly, one of them is per cart. As such, food and fuel, being the cheapest, will be the hardest to reduce prices, and I can likely only do five, maybe ten, per cent lower than what they can get elsewhere. Probably twenty per cent on clothing and maybe as much as thirty on medicine. Though it does depend on how much they buy."

I nod. "That'll have to do. Just don't cut prices by including defective goods and they should be happy."

He gives a look of offense. "Never! I pride myself on quality goods… well, except when I don't I suppose, but never for my patron's clients."

I regard him. Once again, he seems like he means it, even with the slight joke. "Right, well, I'll tell them to be expecting your representative then."

He nods. "Do tell them though that these prices can be lowered if they manage to retake their territory adjacent to my operations."

I side eye him but nod.

We spend the rest of the ride in silence, though he obviously wants to say something but refrains. I leave him in the carriage then turn to address him. "I forgive your mistake with Henry, just don't make it again."

He smiles briefly, stops, then hesitantly resumes with greater vigor. "Most magnanimous, my lord."

I try to decipher the rapid flashes of emotion he displays and suppresses, fail, then walk away to my destination. It's a small shop, but orderly. A sign with a mortar and pestle with inscribed symbols hangs over the door with the name 'John's Alchemicals'.

"Welcome, how can I help… Lord Monhal?" The greeting from the figure behind the shop turns from stock phrase to genuine question midway.

I recognize the figure. It's the boy from the Dialectical Magicalism club who gave the presentation on alchemical advancements. Of the three he seemed the most grounded in his ideas, though I forget his name… Thomas or something.

"Yes," I say in answer to his question, though I don't know if the cause was uncertainty to my name or just surprise at my being here.

"No, I mean… What brings you to our shop, lord."

"…I'm here to see John."

"My uncle?" he seems taken aback.

"He is the proprietor, is he not?"

"Yeah, he's um… oh, I see… He's upstairs." His tone goes dour mid thought at some sudden realization, though I cannot tell what it might be.

"Thankyou…"

"It's Tim." I resisted the urge to indicate my forgetting, but he clearly sensed it anyways.

"Of course." I walk up the indicated stairs and knock on the first door I come to.

"Come in." A voice calls.

I open the door to spot a lean man who could not look more like an alchemist: Mid-twenties leaning over a counter with various alchemical tools and containers of bubbles wearing a thick leather smock and glass goggles. He's lean, stubble 'not-quite-a-beard' and about two inches of curly hair.

He takes one look at me and scowls. "Another Talhal emissary?"

I shrug. "That certainly saves time, but no, I'm a competitor."

"A competitor!?" he laughs. "For me? Well, that's novel."

"I hear you're talented."

"But difficult to employ." He counters snappishly. "What do you want?"

"Just a client."

"Meaning you can't pay as much."

"Meaning I'm more flexible. I hear you only want to do research. I might be willing to accommodate… if I find your work interesting." I say indifferently as I peer over a large container of clear liquid that my nose and, surprisingly, my ears are telling me is not water.

"Don't touch that!" he half shouts then gives an apologetic look at the outburst.

"Of course," I smile disarmingly, but don't step away, "what is it?"

"It's a um… enchanting experiment."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Enchanting?" I ask confused, "Not alchemical? I don't see any symbols on the container."

"That's because I'm not enchanting the container." His tone takes on a tone of condescension. "I'm enchanting the liquid."

"The liquid?" I say with scepticism.

"Yes." He straightens himself up as if preparing for ridicule.

"Well," I say trying not to play into his expectation, "I'm certain you know better than I why that is thought to be impossible." I mean liquid – the entire process of enchanting requires inscribing symbols that stay inscribed. Even if he's insane I'm sure his answer will be interesting.

"Er, yes, well, I have achieved some success by using coloured oils to maintain separate layers, though admittedly they do break down after a few minutes and the effects are subdued. But with more funding I may be able to achieve something permanent."

"But why?" I ask, completely baffled.

"Well," he says as if it should be obvious, "one property of liquids is the ease that it mixes with other liquids of the same type. So, in theory, if I enchant a small flask of water and then dump it into a larger body, that larger body may also become enchanted and become a source of free magic water."

"Okay," I admit, "I see the benefit, but why would you even think that's possible in the first place? Why not just investigate the Rothhal paradoxes like anyone else who wants to bash their head against the impossible?"

"The Rothhal paradoxes are outside of my field," he states simply. "Besides, the liquid is just an avenue of my research, not the main focus."

"And that is?"

"New mediums." His voice grows excited. "For instance, why is it that you require precious materials like gold to enchant items?"

"Because the Eye wills it," I state flatly.

"Yes, but…" he exhales sharply, "what exactly does the Eye will? Where are the edges of its decrees, and how might we make it more willing? My research is on those edges, my hopes are to find something new there." He grows more excited with each word, clearly indicating a passion, but also a tension that he hopes I might feel it too.

He makes a… I wouldn't call it compelling exactly, but it is an argument. If he succeeds it could be anything from a minor economic boon to a fundamental change in how we interact with magic – almost certainly the former. Well, I don't really care about the coin it'll bring me, but I should put myself in the position to deny it to the empire if I can just in case. And if he fails utterly, then at least I'll have a skilled mage in my pocket.

"All right, I suppose that's interesting enough… for now. Let's talk price. How much do you need?"

He considers for a moment, then shakes his head and sits down with a pen and paper. After a minute he comes up with "Seven medium gold a week."

I'm certain that he already had that figure in mind, but made a show of calculating it as part of the negotiations. It's a bit more than I was hoping… well, a lot more. I still have coin left over from the game with Greg, but including my income from him, the Mud hares and my selling alchemical herbs I'll be bankrupt in half a year. Of course, I do hope to expand my income from the Mud Hares, but I'd need to quadruple it to break even which would be optimistic.

I suppose I can always try to learn the faster plant grower spells to increase the income from that, and gambling is always an option, but I should try to negotiate anyways.

"Alright," I nod as if unfazed by the enormous sum, "that's within my budget, but let's see if we can't make things easier for both of us. What exactly will that buy you?"

He shrugs. "Reagents mostly. Rent for the building, food, a servant to clean and someone to run the shop when Tim's at school so I can focus on research."

"You're keeping the shop open?"

"Well…" he seems embarrassed, "I can always use a little more coin."

I shake my head. "If the shop is profitable it can pay for itself. Doubly so as I imagine you'll be selling your failed experiments that I've already paid for." It would probably only be a small gold, but I want to be his sole source of income so that he's as dependent on me as possible. I can't demand that he close the shop, but I don't have to facilitate its continuance either.

He nods in acknowledgement. "All right, I don't really want to bother with it anyways." He gave up rather easily – were the profits really that low? "Regardless, I also need to hire guards."

"You haven't needed them before?"

"Well, while it's not my focus I still have basic proficiency as a combat mage. Even still I've had a few cases of theft. With a patron though I'll be able to make pricier items which will attract better thieves. Maybe even ones that won't mind violence."

I acknowledge the point with a nod. "…I may be able to provide a pair myself, though you'll need to provide a few things. First room and board. Second, you'll find a tutor to teach them literacy. I'll pay the tutor, but their lessons will be held here."

"…That shouldn't be too difficult." A look of distaste flashes across his face, and I think he has guessed where I'll be sourcing the guards.

"To clarify, I'll be rotating the guards out every week or so, but there should be a constant presence. With that in mind, the price should be about six medium, no?"

He gives a frank look. "Six medium and two small."

We haggle a bit over the itemized expenses, bringing things down to six flat. It's still two more than my weekly income, but I should have plenty of time to fix that. If all else fails, there's always gambling. It'll probably be a lot funner to win now that I have something specific that I need the coin for.

"Now," I say, my expression stern, "let's discuss my expectations of you."

"I thought you just wanted a client."

"Yes, but in function, not just in name."

"…Go on."

"First, which is not negotiable, you are to present and turn over control of any new discoveries to me. You are not to sell, publish or develop any discovered new mediums or other innovations until I say so. You will receive the credit for the discovery and some of the coin, but the majority of the profits will go to me. Agreed?"

He tenses, obviously conflicted about the profits, but ultimately decides he cares more about the research. "Fine, what else?"

"I may occasionally need your services as an alchemist or enchanter, though less than the Talhals would. Let's say no more than one batch of alchemical goods a week and one enchanted item a month, for which I will be paying for material, but not labour."

He calculates for a moment before nodding – likely deciding he can pass the task off to an apprentice if it gets too tedious.

With that, we start drafting a contract with various details. As the patronage is in the form of an investment it requires a more robust agreement than with the Mud Hares, including breach penalties and calling up Tim and Greg to act as witnesses. John is alarmed when he sees Greg, but I assure him that he's here on my behalf and not the Talhals, though it does prompt a clause detailing a penalty that I'll have to pay should it be revealed otherwise.

Despite his initial tension, John seems happy, as if relieved of a great burden, once the contract is signed and retrieves a bottle of passable wine which he insists we toast with. Tim is the only one who seems less than jubilant and returns downstairs after the first glass. I have a second and leave the two adults upstairs to finish the bottle, stating I have business to attend later that I need a clear head for.

I find Tim sulking as I leave. Peculiar, and potentially dangerous; I can't have him poisoning his uncle's relationship with me.

"What's the matter?" I ask from behind, causing him to jump. "This is a good deal for your uncle, shouldn't you be happy for him?"

He sighs, glances to me then away. "It's foolish."

"Still, I'd like to know."

"… I… I was excited when I got accepted into the academy. I thought my mind had elevated me to equality. How short lived that notion was if one of my classmates can just walk in and buy my uncle."

"…More equal than you think." I scowl at his presumption.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks.

"It means you're assuming I'm just using my parent's money to get myself a client," I say, snappishly, "but I'm paying your uncle nearly twice the tax income of my parent's entire estate. No, I'm using coin I earned entirely by myself. You're a mage, right? That makes you the equal of any noble – act like it." I finish with a near growl of irritation.

"You… you really think so?"

"…" Anar doesn't: the thought comes as I'm about to answer. He elevates mages above peasants but gives twice as much for nobles. But then again, the Biblio doesn't specify why Anar gives out different amounts of power, for all I know he could simply prefer the taste. Besides, I don't care about Anar's views, just my own.

"…Maybe not to mage nobles," I equivocate slightly, "but the only difference between you and them is the authority granted, and that can be remedied. To a non-mage noble though you're more than equal, so long as you remember it."

He smiles reassured. "Thanks… that helps a lot."

"…Don't mention," I say, turning around and leaving with my own sudden dour feeling.

Why should I care how he feels about his station in life. I guess he was just irritating. I always felt myself the equal to a noble even before I knew I was one, though I guess that comes from all the ones I've killed. Still, I believe that the fewer people you place above you the better you are at negotiating with the Eye, and thus the better mage you are.

So, seeing him being dejected over the spending of mere coin annoyed me… I really shouldn't have bragged about coin that I've mostly gained illicitly, but it was as if his depression was a rebuke against my own confidence and so needed to be fixed.

So what was that feeling when he smiled happily at my words then?

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