“Jesus, Christophe. You move like my grandmother. Hurry up!”

  Nate stopped and waited for the little mage to catch up. He hated group outings. Alone, he could move through this crowd like a fish in the sea, its currents and eddies an open book before his practiced eyes. Christophe, on the other hand, floundered and sputtered like a toddler who had been accidentally pushed into deep water for the first time. He stuttered forward like thick molasses, constantly obstructed by clumps of Travelers or momentarily waylaid by a particularly insistent shop keeper, eager to hock wares.

  “I’m sorry, Nate. I’ve just never seen a fruit like that before. The merchant says it never goes bad, and it provides a +1 constitution buff for up to six hours. Isn’t that amazing!” Christophe panted as he finally got close again, his face bathed in the sweat of excitement and exertion.

  Nate eyed the vendor, who was scowling after Christophe, displeased by his lost sales opportunity. It was amazing. It was also almost certainly a lie. In his first days in Dawn, Nate had been wide-eyed at the range of goods offered in the market square, all with incredible abilities. But he had quickly noticed that none of the more experienced Travelers, those with levels too high to read, stopped long enough to talk to any of these cart merchants in the streets. And so he had caught on. All worlds possessed swindlers, it seemed.

  “Save the shopping for later. We still have a stop to make, and I don’t want to be late for our meeting with Sentry.”

  “Of course. Again, I apologize. Though I don’t understand why you are suddenly so eager to meet with Sentry. The first few times she stopped by the Retreat, I had the definite impression that you were wary of her.”

  “I still am. She wants something, and I don’t know what it is. That makes me nervous,” Nate admitted, chewing thoughtfully on his lip.

  “She did save your life,” Christophe said with a hint of a scold, though his face remained open and guileless. “But, you are right. It is always best to be cautious here. That leaves my original question, though. Why the rush to go see her now?”

  “Because now I want something from her, too,” Nate said. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

  Nate practically dragged Christophe the last two blocks to their destination. As they wove through the mass of bodies, Nate decided he couldn’t really blame his companion for struggling to make his way. The streets had always been crowded. But there was an electric hum to the air now that hadn’t been there before. Ever since word had spread of the discovered Jewel of Farandway, a tension had settled over the city. It was a mix of excitement and anxiety that stirred some primal part of Nate’s mind, giving him an almost manic energy.

  The shop was slightly off the main street, though those few steps felt like entering another world. The shops here bore no flashy signs, and no merchant stood at the door attempting to entice passersby. The street and the shops here were almost empty. But everyone Nate could see had their levels concealed. It was how he found the district. He followed the veterans and saw where they shopped.

  The two went inside. Nate kept a close eye on Christophe as they entered the shop, allowing himself a small grin as he saw the other man’s face light up at what he saw. It was a menagerie of light. Sunbeams poured through the slat windows of the storefront and were reflected in a thousand colors that danced across the walls and the ceiling.

  “Ah. Nathan Sutton. As expected.”

  Nate and Christophe both turned to face the small, wizened gnome emerging from the store’s backroom. It was only the second gnome Nate had seen, the first being just moments after his arrival in Farandway. The creatures were, as he had been told at the time, quite rare. They were also, as far as he had been able to discover so far, the only race that regularly chose the Class Naturalist.

  {Name: Clarence         Class: Naturalist Level ???        Race: Gnome}

  Nate glanced through the identification box, internally sighing. The only reason it displayed a name and class was because the little Gnome had told him both the last time he visited. He really needed to work on getting his Identify skill higher.

  It will be difficult to do before reaching level 10. Unless you are willing to spend skill points.

  Nate twitched involuntarily at the voice in his mind.

  Quiet! He yelled internally.

  You should listen to me, the voice said. It will help you not die so fast.

  Nate shuddered, but didn’t respond. On his hand, the tattooed spider seemed to pulse faintly before going still.

  “I told you, Clarence. Nate is fine,” Nate said, nodding politely to the old craftsman.

  “Of course. And who is your friend?”

  “This is…” Nate started, turning to Christophe. But he grinned again when he saw that Christophe hadn’t even noticed the shopkeeper yet. His mouth was wide open, his eyes still taking in the room.

  “Christophe?” Nate said, catching the mage’s attention. Christophe’s mouth clicked shut as he tore his eyes away from the shop and finally noticed Clarence. Christophe blinked. Then he gave one of his warm, open smiles.

  “Ahh. Yes. Hello. I’m Christophe, Nate’s friend. Your store is incredible!”

  Clarence nodded his head in appreciation, a wide smile cracking his equally wide face. Nate tried not to stare. Clarence was tiny, barely over four feet tall, and covered in green, wrinkled skin. He wore plain clothes covered by a thick leather apron, and a pair of round glasses sat perched on a wide, flat nose, the arms draped over long, drooping ears. The gnome’s resemblance to a certain creature from a galaxy far, far away was distracting.

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

  “Thank you very much, young man,” the gnome croaked, his voice disconcertingly high. “I am Clarence. As you can see, I specialize in glass.”

  Every space in the store was covered in the gnome’s wares. Detailed, intricate sculptures of glass sat on racks and stands all around, catching the sunlight and splintering it into a soft rainbow of color. Above them, more figures hung by thin strings from the rafters, swaying gently and occasionally releasing small, musical tinkled as they brushed each other.

  “How did it go?” Nate asked, hopeful. Clarence’s smile grew wider, exposing flat teeth.

  “Not the kind of work I normally do, but it was no challenge. I think you will be quite happy with the results. If you would assist me?”

  Nate followed Clarence, who hobbled slowly, to a case sitting near one of the display counters. Christophe ignored them, caught again in studying one of the jewel-like glass figurines on display. It was of a small bird that resembled a sparrow, its wings wide in flight. Even at a slight distance, Nate could see that each feather had been meticulously etched into the glass surface, so life-like that Nate had suspected on his first trip to the shop that these were real creatures that had been turned to crystal through some magic.

  At a wave from Clarence, Nate lifted a large, black case from the floor and laid it on the counter. He undid a latch, opened the lid, and looked at the contents.

  Inside, sitting in a soft crate like material to keep them separate, sat fifty perfectly smooth glass balls. Each was the size of a large marble, or a Bumper, as Nate had called them as a kid.

  “The only mildly tricky part was creating the shaft connecting the hollow interior to the surface. I kept it narrow, as you asked, so it should be easy to seal,” Clarence said, a note of pride in his squeaky voice.

  Nate picked up one of the balls and examined it. He found the small hole in its surface with a finger, and, looking closely, he could see the empty, hollow space in the balls interior.

  He had gotten the idea from the odd orbs that he had been gifted by Clayrell to drive away the Stone Monitors in the ravine. Those shells, made of some material he couldn’t identify, had shattered when they hit something hard enough, releasing the water contained inside. He had only one of those left, and he had shown it to Clarence. Filled, as it was, with water, Nate doubted he would find much use for the orb unless he found himself fighting Stone Monitors again, something he sincerely hoped would not happen. But the concept of breakable projectiles filled with something nasty had been appealing.

  “Just be careful what you put in there,” Clarence admonished. “Acid is a good choice. Glass holds up well to acid. But only up to a point. Some of the more powerful concoctions will eat right through these beauties unless you find a way to magically reinforce them. And the plug will be a weak point. I would recommend sealing them with wax, but that probably won’t work. You definitely don’t want these things leaking in your pocket.”

  “No worries,” Nate said. “I’ve got it covered.” He had already picked up a small batch of powerful acid from a chemist in this same shopping district. Powerful, but not magical. He had tested it on glass, and the stuff had shown no signs of wear. The same test on his skin had led to an uncomfortable burning sensation after only a few seconds. Nate could only imagine what it would feel like if some of that stuff splashed into a person’s eyes or nose.

  That same chemist had sold him a jar of thick gray gunk specially formulated as a match to the acid. It dried and hardened if exposed to air, but did not dissolve in the acid. A small dob of it spread over the opening on his new Bumpers should seal the payload in nicely.

  “These are perfect, Clarence. Well done.” Nate reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin, the second half of his payment, due on delivery, and tossed it to the gnome. The coin vanished in a flash, Clarence’s hands surprisingly quick. Nate glanced to the front of the store, peaking through the windows, but saw no one outside. He was being careful about how he spent his money, more than he should have. He hadn’t seen the nosey guardsman in a while. But he wasn’t willing to assume the man had just given up on following him.

  “No problem. It was sort of fun, actually,” Clarence said. “I enjoy making these ornaments. But it was exciting to think that something I made would be used in combat. That’s what a Naturalist is meant to do, you know.”

  Nate nodded, though, honestly, he had no idea what a Naturalist was before Clarence explained it to him. The gnome was the first person he had met with the mysterious class, though he had soon discovered it wasn’t uncommon in this district of craftsmen. A Naturalist, it turned out, was something like a Scientist, or perhaps more accurately an Engineer. Their skills were all based around crafting and building things. Nate wasn’t sure how useful someone like that would be in a fight. But as support personnel on a team, he could definitely see the appeal of having one around.

  “I’ll stop by and let you know how they work. And I’ll try to come up with some other projects for you. I have a few ideas,” Nate said, lifting the case.

  “Yes, yes, of course. I made the shell thick enough to be durable for handling and throwing, but thin enough to break if they strike something hard enough. The only way to really tell if I got it right is to test them, though. So, give me an update when you need more. I can update the design as needed.”

  With another word of thanks, Nate collected the gawking Christophe and set out again. Soon, they were back in the press of bodies, screaming street hawkers all around. Nate kept a hand around Christophe’s wrist, guiding him. The mage, for once, seemed lost in thought, his mouth unusually still.

  As they approached the restaurant where they were going to meet Sentry, Christophe seemed to come back to himself.

  “I still don’t understand what we are doing here. I’m happy to see Sentry again. She was very nice to me. But you said you want something from her. What is it?” Christophe asked as they paused to examine the building.

  Nate didn’t answer immediately. He was thinking of his meeting with Sentry the day before, when she had shown up, again, at the Traveler’s Retreat. The woman had seemed agitated, or perhaps excited. She had been as roundabout as usual, only asking Nate if he would be willing to talk sometime, think about making plans, forming a party, exploring outside the city. But there was an eagerness to her that he hadn’t seen before. He had no doubt it was related to the news of the Jewel that had swept the city.

  He was ready to dismiss her again, when Christophe had said something that made him stop.

  “Why do you want Nate in a party so bad? Doesn’t your Faction have people that could help you?”

  The question had given Nate a shock. He hadn’t realized that Sentry was part of a Faction.

  Sentry hadn’t really answered those questions, and had made an excuse to leave shortly after. Before she went, Nate surprised her by agreeing to meet her the next day for lunch. To discuss things.

  The clock was still ticking. Nate needed to start a war, and he wasn’t any closer to accomplishing it. But he was starting to form the outlines of a plan. The appearance of the Jewel had sewn a note of discord into the community of Dawn, and Nate was sure he could use that in some way. But first he needed information. He needed to know more about the Factions. And here was Sentry, apparently a member of a Faction, dropped right into his lap.

  Know thy enemy, a raspy voice from Morgan's past whispered.

  Yes. This is good advice, a small, feminine voice murmured in agreement.

  Nate shook both the memory and the present away.

  “Come on,” Nate said, ignoring Christophe’s question. “We’re already late.”