There was no guarantee the spirit balls would reach Ikfael, but they were my best lead for getting a message to her. Hopefully, they’d reach wherever she was on the other side of the spirit passage.

I made a spirit ball and sculpted it in my image. Specifically, it was of me, standing, with a blotch on my right leg. Not sure exactly what would help, I poured my intent into the sculpture and even whispered in its ear. “Ikfael Glen, please contact me if you can.”

The sculpture sank to the bottom of the pool and disappeared.

After twenty minutes, I sculpted a second figure, this time of Ikfael. To ensure I caught her attention, I loaded the sculpture’s arms with fish.

The third sculpture was the most complicated yet. It was of me and Ikfael together, crouched down while we waited to ambush the buck. The sculpture wasn’t as detailed as the others--I didn’t have time for that--but the figures’ postures captured nicely the feeling of tense waiting.

I meditated in between messages to recover my mana. The sun was high in the sky, and I started to sweat, even with the mist from the waterfall to keep me cool. I disrupted the flow of the meditation to sneak a peek at my Status. No changes. That was good at least. I took a deep breath to settle my nerves, when the water rustled in front me.

“Ikfael, you’re--”

But it wasn’t the otter. A pillar of water rose from the pool to about my height. The top flattened into the shape of Ikfael’s tablet, the one she used during her rituals. An image appeared on the screen.

Ikfael sat on a chair, her back straight, a stiff smile on her face. There was a candle on the stone wall behind her, but most of the light seemed to come from a roaring fire out of view. The light on her fur swayed back and forth with its flames.

A mug of something hot steamed on the table in front of her, along with a series of sculptures. Their shadows danced, almost like they were alive. They weren’t the sculptures I sent though.

There was me lifting my spear in triumph; me falling from the cliff, my face all wobbly; me squatting in the woods; me goofing around with the imaginary assassins; me biting into my first fish, my face ecstatic; and finally, me sitting by a campfire daydreaming, as I gazed at the sky.

My face heated up. I knew she was the spirit of the glen, but I didn’t think she was watching all the time. I was so embarrassed.

It’s not that I was a modest man. Change enough diapers, clean up enough vomit, and you realize quickly that body stuff is just body stuff. It stinks and is gross, but it’s not personal. The goofing around though--that was personal.

After Helen died, I sank into a deep, deep funk. I would’ve stayed there too, if it wasn’t for a certain dream where she came to visit and kick my butt. Boy, but was that ever a lecture. I sat through the whole thing, listened to every word, and at the end, promised to find my joy again. Which I did. I just didn’t want it to be so public.

By the way, if it seems like my life was a series of promises to my wife, it was. And I was a better man for it. I kept all those promises too, which was probably the crowning achievement of my life.

Well, I’d done stupider things for worse reasons before. Nothing would keep me from finding my joy, even if it meant making a spectacle of myself. Thankfully, it was just Ikfael… Wait. Who was she showing these sculptures to?

The question must’ve shown on my face, because Ikfael looked down and away like a kid in trouble. Reluctantly, she reached out to tilt the screen. The view panned, and I saw Diriktot sitting across from her, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

The last time I saw him, he wore a suit. Today, he had on a leather apron over a linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The coarse black hair on his arms couldn’t hide the powerful muscles underneath. Behind him was a forge burning brightly.

Diriktot waved.

I just about died, which was something he’d seen before, but still… I just. About. Died.

Maybe he felt bad about that--I couldn’t tell, because his brows went up, like he had an idea, and he started talking to Ikfael. As soon as he did, Ikfael let go of the screen, which swung the view back to her.

While my brain tried to catch up with the events happening in the spirit world, Ikfael nodded along to whatever Diriktot was saying. Her own brows started to climb and at one point, her jaw dropped.

Whatever it was, it must’ve been a heck of a story.

Ikfael interrupted him once to chirp a question. The answer must’ve satisfied her, because she turned to gesture at her screen. Water rose up around my screen to form a pseudopod. It cleared the stone bank of debris and left behind two bowls.

The first was made of stone, and looked like the ones I’d seen Ikfael use before. The second was made from polished wood, stained dark. There was a design inside, but I’d have to get closer to see it. Both bowls were full of water.

Beside the stone bowl, the pseudopod left a collection of water sculptures: a stack of five fish and a deer’s hind leg and haunch. Beside the wooden bowl, the pseudopod left the same sculptures, but also included a stiletto, a rolled up hide, and the Antler of Icy Breath.

Now, things were happening quickly, and I had a lot of questions--very important questions, like why Ikfael was hanging out with a god and what story did he share--but an offer to trade was clearly being made. The water in the bowls promised healing in exchange for my stuff, but why was it so freaking expensive? The stone bowl wasn’t bad, but the wooden one...

“No way. I’m not trading Antler-Sensei.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth before I said anything else stupid. Ikfael had always been fair before. The wooden bowl had to be special for it to be worth so much.

I owned three stilettos, which was good insurance if one of them broke. I could afford to trade one away though. The hide would be a more painful loss. I needed every inch for my planned projects. As for the Antler, it solved my long term food storage problem. Unless I found a way to extend the duration of Cold Snap, I’d no longer be able to store food for winter. At least, not through refrigeration.

“Can we negotiate? I’ll give you two haunches, a stiletto, and anything I can make over the course of a day--spears, axes, whatever you want and however many you want--but I keep the hide and the Antler.”

Ikfael picked up the spirit sculpture of me holding my spear aloft in victory, tore off the right leg, and waggled it in front of the screen. The message was obvious: either accept one of the trades or be prepared to lose a leg. There’d be no negotiation.

Well, I could always choose the stone bowl. The healing water inside would cure the infection, and I could go on with the rest of my day. It’d be the safe bet. The problem was my curiosity had been piqued. I gestured at the wooden bowl and encouraged Ikfael to elaborate on why it cost so much. She quirked her head and smiled, not giving anything away.

Was this a test of some kind then? A leap of faith? There was a god involved after all, so maybe? Her eyes were not unkind, as she watched me struggle with the decision. To her, this was a fair exchange, so what was I missing?

I pretended to pour the wooden bowl’s water on my leg to heal the infection.

Ikfael nodded yes.

I pretended to keep the bowl and...

Before I could continue, Ikfael shook her head no.

“Shut the front door. I don’t even get to keep it?”

My incredulity passed quickly. If the trade wasn’t for the bowl, then it was the water that was special. Did it provide a permanent benefit or a powerup of some kind?

I gestured: can I examine the bowl and water?

She carefully nodded yes.

I carefully picked up the wooden bowl. Inside, a snake painted in gold spiraled outward from the center to the rim, the design reminiscent of the carvings at Chichen Itza. The water inside looked normal. I sniffed, and it smelled clean. If there was any mana, it was too faint for me to sense.

I wiggled my fingers over the water. Can I enchant it?

She shook her head no, and instead gestured toward the bowl itself.

I wiggled my fingers at the bowl, and she very, very slowly nodded yes. Like, glacially slow.

Okay, that was weird, and a hint if I ever saw one. I took a closer look at the bowl. The wood was mahogany and was well worn with age. There were also tiny gaps in the gold paint. I got the feeling that it was something precious and belonged in a museum.

I gathered qi and mana in my hands and let the energies seep into the bowl. They swept in like a slow ocean tide. Then they found the meridians, dropping into the runnels to flow through the pattern hidden within the wood. I recognized the water mana rune, but the rune attached to it was one I didn’t know. I licked my lips. It was the Healing Water rune. It had to be.

Ikfael smiled at me, her eyes crinkled in pleasure. She gestured to tell me to take my time examining the goods for trade. That I had half a day to decide if it was worth it. Then the screen and pseudopods fell back into the pool, and I was left with the two bowls.

###

I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon frantically memorizing the Healing Water rune. I briefly considered sketching it with chalk, but the rune had to be perfect for it to work. Anything I drew would be hopelessly imperfect. I even tried to take a picture of the rune with the phone’s camera, but the result was an error.

Error Not a valid Talent vessel.

So, I didn’t eat. I didn’t do chores. I just meditated and memorized. I circulated my energies faster and faster, and every twenty-five minutes, I enchanted the bowl to commit the rune to memory.

Partway through, it occured to me that if this process was a training montage, it’d be the dullest in the history of training montages. All I was doing was sitting by a pool and staring into a bowl of water every twenty-five minutes.

Then I realized I was being foolish and ate lunch. My brain needed nutrition to function at its best. I wolfed down the plum, fennel, and venison mash I threw together, which ended up being not bad. The mash needed salt (of course, like everything else) and some other herbs or spices, but it was worth making again. Refreshed, I went back to meditating and memorizing. Then when the light dimmed, I ate leftover mash for dinner.

Forty points of qi and mana later, I had it.

###

A pillar of water rose from the pool. The screen re-formed to show Diriktot demonstrating a machine being assembled. New black iron gleamed in the firelight. The various handles and levers were shiny brass. There was a hopper at the top and spout at the bottom.

The machine looked strangely familiar, and then I knew what it was. I’d seen enough industrial coffee roasters in Portland to know what they looked like. This one could easily process ten pounds of beans at a time. Behind it was a stack of man-sized burlap bags full of (heaven help me) Ethiopian coffee beans. That Diriktot, he brought back more souvenirs from my world.

Oh my god, what I wouldn’t give for a good cup of coffee. Wait. Focus. The coffee can wait. Even Diriktot can wait.

“I made a decision,” I said.

The screen followed Ikfael back to the table. She hopped into the chair and got herself comfortable before gesturing: All right, what did you decide?

I got out my own bowl. It was just a stone that happened to be concave enough to hold water, but it’d do for now. I imaged the rune for Healing Water and connected it to my mana. The magic flowed through me. My skin flushed, my eyelids fluttered. Heat and coolness mingled. My body, mind, and spirit filled with the potential. Then, when it was at its peak, I let it all go into the water.

The water glowed briefly. That was all, but it was enough. I’d seen the same when Ikfael cast her spell. The water fizzled when I poured it over my wound. It sizzled and stung. Then the feeling turned cool and soaked into my skin. The wound closed.

Ikfael grinned at me. I grinned back.

Hydromancy 1 > 2

A pseudopod came to take her bowls back, still full of water. She shrugged, like it was no big deal that the trade fell through.

“Wait,” I said before the screen retracted.

She quirked her head, confused, but the screen waited as I’d asked.

I ran--it felt good to run again--I ran to the refrigerator to retrieve two quarters of the butchered deer. I placed them in front of the screen, along with one of my stilettos, the one with the hickory hilt. I made the shape of a fish with my hands and showed her twenty fingers. Then I put my hands together in prayer and bowed. I had no idea if she could feel my intent, but I was ever so grateful.

She was fair and kind, and maybe she helped me at first as a favor to Diriktot, but I didn’t think that was the basis of our relationship anymore. She didn’t have to let me study the bowl for free. That was a gift.

I’d have to think about why it was structured that way later. (I remembered that the description for the Spirit Magic Skill included a note about exchanges.) But for now, I simply wanted to show my appreciation.

Ikfael’s grin got bigger, and she stuck her chest out, pleased. She turned to chirp at Diriktot, but I didn’t get to see that part. The pillar fell back into the water.

It was a lost opportunity. I realized that. I could’ve tried to talk to my other benefactor, Diriktot. It was more important to me, though, to show my appreciation to Ikfael for everything she’d done for me.

Barter 3 > 4

Apparently, relationships are everything, even in sales.

I fell back, exhausted and energized at the same time. The fire was down to embers, enough for a small glow. The moon was up and climbing up into the sky.

I couldn’t sleep. My mind spun around the spells I’d learned: Anesthetic, Cold Snap, and Healing Water. All three were useful, but the most important was undoubtedly Healing Water. With it, I could take more chances, make mistakes, and be able to recover from them.

That meant the world to me.