After checking my brother's tent and finding it empty, I hesitantly approached the guild leader's tent.

Calling out, I waited for a response, and when none came, I moved to check the remaining three tents.

The hunting team did not have their own individual tents, instead sleeping in pairs. Checking each tent, I found they were all empty of my guild mates and was about to head back to my own tent, when the booming laugh of my brother caught my attention.

Following the sound, I found the men with a group of people I didn’t know gathered in the shade provided by the trees growing around the oasis.

At the center of the group, Bastian the dwarf was facing off against an unfamiliar male dwarf. Both men were shirtless and grappling with each other on the ground, with Bastian looking like he was close to being shoved out of a circle drawn in the sand.

“Come on, Baz, if I lose any money you’re sleeping outside.” Killian cat-called loudly.

Moving around the outer edges of the crowd, I was able to make my way to where my brother stood, calling out his own encouragement to the dwarf. I arrived at the Minotaur’s side just as Bastian got the upper hand, flipping his opponent around so they fell outside the circle. Loud cheers mixed with some groans erupted from the crowd as a few copper and silver coins changed hands.

“Kads, finally braving the outdoors?” Markion asked with a grin when I poked him in the side to get his attention.

I nodded with a slight shrug, glancing at the crowd of people around us, searching for Darius. The guild leader was standing a little away from the group, speaking with a taller man who was clad in light colored robes.

Darius looked up from his conversation and noticed me staring, before I had a chance to look away. Lifting a hand, the guild leader gestured towards me with a ‘come here’ motion and I contemplated ignoring him for half a second, before deciding that avoiding him would only worsen the awkward situation I’d found myself in.

“Kadia, this is Omar, a traveling merchant.” Darius introduced as I reached them.

He looks half starved. Trying to keep my expression void of any sign that I found his appearance off-putting, I shook the bony hand the man held out towards me.

When he took my hand to raise it to his lips, I almost yanked it from his grasp, but the gleam in the man's eye had me leaving my hand in his.

He is doing this to provoke a reaction. My lips curled with disgust, as the skeletal man pressed his dry, cracked lips to my knuckles.

“Such a pleasure to meet you, dear Kadia.” The man crooned in a low, rasping voice.

A chilly feeling crept over my skin, and it wasn’t the same pleasant chill caused by my cooling balm. This cold was dark and carried with it a feeling of power.

In response, I focused my inner fire to the point that my fingers were on the verge of bursting into flames, causing him to drop my hand in a flash. As he cradled his scolded fingers to his chest, I kept my smile fixed in place.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I was feeling a little chilly so decided to warm myself up a little.” I said sweetly, trailing my fingers over the feathers of the darts on my left bracer.

“Feisty little fox, isn’t she?” Omar rasped, ignoring me as he turned his attention to Darius.

“When she wants to be,” Darius said with a shrug, and the walking corpse of a man let out a laugh that sounded like he was being choked.

“Omar here claims to have a cure for Scorcher venom for sale,” the guild leader drawled, crossing his arms over his chest.

A cure for scorcher venom? Really? Focusing my gaze on the man, I searched his body with my alchemic insight.

“I understand your doubts, my friend, which is why I am having a small demonstration in my tent for those who are interested in purchasing our product. However, I must warn you that my supply is limited.”

Not a single golden light shone from the man, which was strange, as even bags of holding glowed if they contained items with Alchemic properties. Everyone carried even a basic tincture on them, yet this man held nothing of any alchemic value.

“When are you holding this demonstration?” I asked, feigning an interested expression.

“As soon as the interested parties have gathered. You are the last to receive my invitation.” Omar claimed, gesturing towards a large, opulent purple tent that was set up just beyond where our guild’s tents were pitched.

The purple tent hadn’t been present when we’d gotten to the outpost earlier in the day, so I could only assume he’d arrived after our group.

As I followed the so-called merchant and Darius towards the tent, I sent a mental command to the two Scorchers I’d released inside my tent. When we passed my tent, I slowed my stride enough for my two juvenile Scorchers to jump up onto my boot. From there, they scrambled up the back of my trouser leg and tunic until they reached my shoulder, where they slipped into my hood.

I wasn’t sure what Omar intended for his demonstration, but if he didn’t have a live scorcher in there to milk for venom while we all watched, then I would be more than happy to offer my own for the task.

As we arrived at the tent, the first thing I noticed was the man standing in front of the door. The dark-skinned, muscular man was the complete opposite of the frail Omar. A pair of curved blades were sheathed at the man's hips and he wore the same loose robes as the merchant. Omar waved his hand towards the man in a lazy gesture and in response he stepped aside, pulling open the tent flap.

The tent’s furnishings were so lavish, they looked out of place under the ownership of this skeletal merchant. This tent was better suited to one of the handsome desert princes written about in corny romance novels. Lush rugs covered the floor and two long tables ran parallel to each other along the room. Six people were seated on tasseled floor cushions, being served food and wine by a man who appeared to be from one of the canine Yōkai races.

His ears aren’t as pointed as min, and are smaller. So, I’m guessing he is an Ōkami like Darius and not a Kitsune.

As Darius and I were directed towards a pair of empty cushions, the brunette Ōkami was quick to place a platter of fruits and wine on the table before us, but we both left it untouched.

While we waited for Omar to finish his greetings to the other guests, I scanned the room with my Alchemic sight and saw a few faint glows, but nothing which would indicate anything with a potent alchemic nature.

What a farce.

I didn’t even bother to hide my yawn as Omar stood between the two tables, delving into a speech about the effects of Scorcher venom. The man wasn’t even talking about the cure itself, just the venom.

“Enough prattling, either prove your antidote can do what you claim, or we leave.” A stocky woman with intricately braided hair growled from her seat on the opposite side of Darius.

“Then let us move on to our live demonstration,” Omar rasped, clapping his hands twice.

The Ōkami reappeared from behind a curtain then, carrying a glass tank with a single Scorcher inside. Its scales were the iridescent black of an adult scorcher, and it was nearing six inches in size. In comparison, my two juveniles were just over an inch, and still sported dull gray scales, though I had noted they were slowly darkening around their heads.

It doesn’t glow. I noticed with surprise as I gazed at the Scorcher the brunette Ōkami was presenting to each spectator in turn.

That can’t be right, a Scorcher is a creature able to produce five alchemic components. It should pulsate with light.

Propping my chin up on my hand, I watched as the Ōkami made his way around the room, noting that he never stopped moving. They only gave the illusion of allowing us to inspect the Scorcher, without truly doing so. Eyes locked on the tank, I observed the Scorcher’s movements.

Is it pacing? It keeps moving around in the tank. Scorch and Sting never move that much unless I’m making them or they are hunting bugs. Someone is clearly controlling it, which isn’t surprising as they would have bound it if they are using it for demonstrations.

“The Kemet are a human race, whose culture resembles that of the ancient Egyptians. Their race specializes in necromantic, and shamanistic magic.” The words Darius had spoken earlier in the day drifted to the forefront of my mind as I watched them place the tank on a stand in between the two tables.

It doesn’t glow, because any alchemic value this Scorcher has is gone. Dead Scorchers don’t produce venom, saliva, blood, or hemolymph. Those are the only four of the five alchemic components I’ve been able to identify, and none are viable from a corpse unless it’s a fresh one. As the Ōkami put his hand in the tank, I watched as the Scorcher struck at his hand and shook my head. Too slow, while the acting is good, he reacted too slowly. The venom burns the moment it comes into contact with the bloodstream.

“As you can see, poor Lucas has succumbed to the scorcher venom.” Omar yelled out over the Ōkami’s pained cries.

As one of my scorchers successfully reached the writhing Ōkami, I shifted my hand to cover my mouth in order to hide the smile that was fighting its way onto my lips. The brunette’s screams reached an ear-splitting level, and I almost felt sorry for him.

Don’t worry Lucas I’m sure Omar is going to give you the cure soon. I shook my head, pondering when I’d become so vicious that I was willing to use something as horrendous as Scorcher venom on someone? When these scamming scumbags decided to trick people into buying their fake cure, that’s when. How many people have gotten careless and been stung; thinking they didn’t have to worry because they had a cure? People like this who sell fraudulent or unsafe medicines are what mother fought so hard to stop. Is this any different to the time mom tricked a rival researcher into taking his own shitty drug and not the placebo as he’d planned? Mom didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when she heard the news of his fatal stroke, a side effect she was adamant the drug had, but he’d dismissed.

Watching Omar kneel next to his writhing companion and try to pour the contents of the vial into his mouth, I made a mental note to find an alternate delivery method for my future cure.

Lucas’s jaw was clenched shut, as his back arched and his limbs flailed about, almost hitting the vial out of the merchant’s hand.

Omar’s expression conveyed his surprise as he again attempted to force the Ōkami to consume his cure. The merchant only succeeded in forcing the potion down the writhing Ōkami’s mouth with help from the guard.

Shakily rising to his feet, Omar gave the group a wane smile as he gestured to the Ōkami whose screams were now muffled by the guard’s hand.

“In just a few moments, you will witness Lucas’s recovery from the venom.” The gaunt merchant declared, glancing back at the writhing Ōkami, his eyes widening in horror as Lucas' skin became covered in dark veins.

I watched with interest as the Ōkami’s screams faded and his body crumbled into ash. This was the first time I’d seen Scorcher venom on a human test subject, as I’d only used my construct and mice for my experiments.

Mom was right. I thought, as memories of sitting with a beautiful red-haired woman inside a church where a funeral was being held filled my mind.

“People like Dr. Newark deserve to suffer the same way the patients they’ve misled suffered, Kadia. They do not value other people's lives. So why should we value theirs? How many people died from a stroke they never would have had, if not for his medicine? Always remember: a true Pharmacologist should not release a product they themselves would not use.”

As the ash that was once Luca’s body faded, I pushed up from my position on the floor, and began walking to the door. Darius followed me, as did most of the others who’d been sitting in the tent to watch the merchants' so-called demonstration.

“What'd you think?” Darius asked me.

“The cure is fake, as is the Scorcher in the tank. That thing is as dead as the merchant looks,” I informed him with a small shake of my head.

“He doesn’t look like he was faking it to me.” The Dwarven woman who’d been sitting on the other side of Darius declared.

“Oh, he wasn’t,” I told her, schooling my face into a look of boredom. “I wasn’t sure if they realized their dead scorcher wasn’t producing venom anymore, so I decided to help them out, with a little sting of my own.”

With a smile, I touched my right hand to my shoulder before moving it out in front of me. Perched on my fingers was Sting, tail curled over his back as he sat motionless on my hand. The reaction from the small group of people who’d just left the tent was a mixture of shock and fear as they caught sight of my tiny Scorcher. It was rather amusing how something so small could induce such a powerful reaction in people.

As the last of the group left the area in front of the merchant's tent, giving me and my Scorcher cautious glances over their shoulders, Darius looked down at Sting with a furrowed brow and asked.

“Didn’t you have two Scorchers?”

The sound of two fresh screams filling the air and the walls of the tent bursting into flames was all the answer Darius needed.