“This is the new batch,” Alyssa said, carefully handing over a series of midnight black vials. “Tzheitza believes that these should have a greater effect in killing plague infected… bodies.”

Oxart, now wearing a black and purple uniform of the palace guard, leaned over, flicking one of the glass vials with a fingernail. “They better,” she grumbled, not looking anywhere near Alyssa’s face. “Even with that hellhound sniffing out the plague left and right, incidents have been on the rise.”

“I know.” Tzheitza’s shop was not located in the wealthier sections of the city. The shop itself hadn’t been affected by anything. Not yet. But incidents in the district around it happened once every few days, at least. Even if Alyssa didn’t see anything personally, Fela always made sure to stop by whenever she was working in the area.

It was nice to see her so regularly, to see that she was being treated well, but her visits always carried a morbid note to them.

Oxart finally looked up to meet Alyssa’s eyes. The simple act of seeing Alyssa triggered her lips to press into a thin line. While she seemed to ignore her distaste in favor of a professional relationship, Oxart clearly still did not like Alyssa. The few times she had been around, Irulon had received the same looks. “Tell Tzheitza that she has my thanks.”

“Sorry,” Alyssa said. She couldn’t help it. Maybe the same result would have happened further down the line and Oxart would have wound up framed and imprisoned, but Alyssa felt responsible. For that and for Oxart having to essentially disown herself.

Lacking full political knowledge of this world, Alyssa really didn’t know all that such an act entailed, but she did know that Oxart had only reluctantly signed Irulon’s paper that day in the dungeon cell.

“And stop apologizing every time you come here.”

That had become another familiar phrase.

“Sorry.”

“Do we have to do this every single time? I swear, I get more irritated with you every time I see you.”

“I’ll just… uh, be leaving then.”

“Good. I’ve got enough to do without you standing around looking like a pile of wet straw.”

Alyssa opened her mouth, but decided not to comment. It was probably just an odd turn of phrase. She could guess what it meant without further disturbing the guard captain. Oxart had already gone back to work.

The office she was in now wasn’t her old one at Eastgate. That was still under Decorous’ control. Oxart now operated out of a side area in the Central Garrison where the palace guard organized themselves. It was a bit of a larger office, though the window wasn’t a large dominating thing with a brilliant view of the northern desert. Hopefully Oxart didn’t miss that too badly.

However, some things stayed the same. Her desk was a mess of paperwork and files. Boxes of more papers had been haphazardly shoved in the corners. The walls had her charts of personnel, which seemed to have increased in size over what Alyssa could recall from the old office. Overall, she looked like she was getting some hard work done.

So Alyssa left her to it, ducking out and back into the hallway without another word.

Getting out of the Central Garrison was an… irritating affair. Over the past month, Alyssa had been in and out regularly. Tzheitza was constantly refining her plague potion. And she had other, more mundane potions that needed delivery on occasion. As such, Alyssa had found herself growing fairly familiar with the guards who were working around the place.

Especially the gate guards that absolutely had to check her bags every time she went in and out.

“Sorry,” Yamis said with a chuckle. “Oxart’s orders.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alyssa said, her delivery satchel already open for inspection. “Same as what you saw when I went in minus the potions that are sitting on her desk.”

“I think I’ve checked your belongings more in the last week than I have anyone else in the past month. For some reason, she thinks you need all the extra scrutiny.”

It wasn’t wholly unwarranted given the fairy that she had hidden in her bag, but… “I might have made her a little upset once, so she probably orders the inspections to annoy me more than anything. A little petty vengeance.”

Yamis glanced around the garrison’s portcullis, almost looking a little nervous. “Don’t let her hear you say that. Calling her petty, that is. She’ll have us both strung up on the walls as a warning to others.”

Alyssa doubted that. Oxart, Alyssa well knew, was fair. And she was perfectly capable of putting personal grievances aside to focus on the bigger picture. The professionalism during their brief meetings attested to that. Even being disliked, Alyssa still liked and respected the woman. “Maybe it isn’t that petty,” Alyssa had to admit. Looking around, she had to frown. “You’re the only one on gate duty today?”

“I’ll probably be the only one on duty for the foreseeable future. We’ve had some… ah… downsizing here in the city guard.”

“They joined the palace guard?” Alyssa asked, recalling how Oxart’s personnel list had grown larger since the last time she had seen it.

“Not as such, no. But the palace guard has been recruiting to try to make up for it.” He looked around, making sure nobody was nearby, before dropping his volume a few notches. “Lots of ruffians and peasants from the city.”

Alyssa waited a moment for him to elaborate, but he just stepped back, leaving her satchel. Having other deliveries to make, she couldn’t sit around chatting all day. “Am I free to go?”

“Yeah, get out of here,” he said in good nature. “Quick, before you get us both in trouble.”

“See you next time,” Alyssa said with a chuckle.

And like that, Alyssa left the garrison. She considered stopping by the palace on her way home—this had been the second to last delivery of the day—but nobody would be in except maybe the draken. Brakkt was out of the city doing who knew what—though he was supposed to be back soon, then he said he would personally escort Alyssa down to Teneville. She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t looking forward to it. With all the excitement having died down, Irulon had taken up her daily attendance at the Observatorium. Fela was probably out sniffing for trouble. The Pharaoh might be in, but Alyssa really wasn’t friends with him nor did she have much interest in dropping in for a social visit.

He was probably busy being the Pharaoh anyway.

Deciding that she probably shouldn’t delay a delivery for personal visits anyway, Alyssa headed on to her next destination.

The Guild.

It was a longer walk from the Central Garrison, but it was closer to home. Which was the whole reason she had saved it for last.

Well, that and she had a feeling that she would be stuck there for a while. It was just as rowdy as the first time Alyssa had visited. The large open main floor was built like a tavern with several tables and plenty of people. Some of those people, Alyssa knew quite well.

Sure enough, when she arrived, she had barely taken three steps inside before someone started running up to her.

“Alyssa! I figured it out!” Jason practically shouted as he rushed up to her. The former programmer hadn’t enjoyed his first week or two on Nod. Despite his anticipated capabilities, he was only able to cast magic at a Rank One level. Maybe a few of the easier Rank Two spells if he was having a good day, but that couldn’t be relied upon. Lately, he had tried doing some working out, but he must have been one of those people who couldn’t build muscle no matter what they tried.

Luckily, he found something else to occupy himself with. A job as a scrivener for the Knights Solaris, as Alyssa had suggested, and…

Alyssa stared down at the sketch he had handed over to her. Several wheels had been drawn on, each of them teethed. Tiny chicken scratch writing lined the sides, annotating practically every little thing. But Alyssa just shook her head and handed it back. “Looks the same as last time.”

“Of course it does, to you,” he said, tone turning haughty. “Gear theory is much more complex than I thought. But with this, I think I have everything I needed planned out. With a bit of magical fire, I’ll have the cleanest steam powered harvest engine ever created! After that, pumps, textile manufactoriums, and even… electricity!” He gave a content sigh, hugging his stack of papers to his chest. “Oh, I am so glad I realized that I wasn’t the mage but the inventor. Really, inventing is far more fun and far more unique.”

Alyssa wasn’t sure how much of it really counted as inventing when he was just copying down things from her phone, but he was happy as it was. She wouldn’t comment and disparage him that little joy. Though she did have to ask one question. “How are you going to get it made? This city doesn’t exactly have large steel mills.”

“That is where your good friend Oz has proved himself most useful,” Jason said, gesturing toward one of the tables. Somehow, he managed to move halfway across the room before Alyssa realized he had gone anywhere at all. It was the same table that Jason had launched himself from to intercept Alyssa.

“Hold that thought,” Alyssa said, seeing the three other people at the table. “I just have to drop off some potions with Laria before I get too distracted.”

“Oh! Of course. You are on the job, aren’t you. I will respectfully allow you to finish before eagerly awaiting your presence.”

Alyssa smiled and nodded. Jason tended to talk strangely on occasion. Especially if he was excited. Not Tzheitza strange. Just… regular strange.

Laria happily accepted Alyssa’s potions. She didn’t smile, but the way she adjusted her circular glasses was one that Alyssa associated with being pleased. There wasn’t anything too special in this collection. Most of it was a large batch of the luminescent potion that people used in place of light bulbs. Jars that had lost their glow would be dumped out and refilled with the fresh supply. There were a few other things as well. Burn ointment, especially. Apparently, the guild had taken on a fairly large operation not so long ago involving fire elementals, whatever those were. Living flames were how they had been described to Alyssa.

She wasn’t quite sure how someone was supposed to fight things like that with anything other than a lot of water and ice based magic, but that hadn’t stopped Oz from going and getting his eyebrows burned off. Looking back at him now, there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage. His hair was growing back, at least.

Jason, spotting her looking, started waving his hand back and forth like she might forget to stop by before leaving. Shaking her head, she walked up to the three men and one woman at the table.

“Hello Oz, Catal,” she said, greeting both of them before turning to the woman in a leather vest and cloth undershirt. “Mom.”

All three nodded back to her in turn.

Lumen wasn’t at the table tonight. Alyssa wouldn’t be surprised if the other arcanist had found out that she was set for a delivery and deliberately found somewhere else to be. Although Catal and Oz didn’t seem to have an issue with her, Alyssa got the feeling that Lumen might hate her more than anyone else in the entire city. And, while things had been rocky when they first met, Alyssa honestly didn’t know how things had gotten quite that bad.

While things with Lumen had somehow soured, things with her mother were… better. Mostly. Their relationship didn’t feel anything like it had before all this nonsense had started. Alyssa doubted it would ever go back to how they had been on Earth. Things were just too different here and, sadly, too different between them.

But she was glad that her mother had found people here to talk to and work with. She wasn’t actually working as a mercenary—something Alyssa was thankful for because of all the reasons she had tried to steer Jason away from the subject—but rather as something of a contractor. A trainer for the less experienced. It was a job she was well suited for, having trained local police forces in Afghanistan. Though some of the tactics were probably a bit different. Fighting with guns and fighting with swords were two vastly different things.

“As I was saying, Alyssa,” Jason continued as if he hadn’t interrupted, “Oz here knows of a blacksmith.” His eyes lit up but his voice dropped to a whisper. “An elvish blacksmith.”

“The smithy is owned by a proper human,” Oz cut in. “So is the elf, for that matter. But everyone knows that it is the elf that does all the work. She’s the one you go to when you want… things done,” he said, tapping a gloved finger on Jason’s schematics.

Alyssa frowned at the thought of using slave labor for… well, anything really. Fela wasn’t a slave. Neither were the draken. That alone was a huge step forward for this civilization. She couldn’t ask them to change all at once. But still, the thought irked her.

Oz clearly saw what she was upset about. “Once again, your priorities are all wrong, lass. But if you must know, she wears the chains like they’re a fashion statement. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure she even has the key. Old Rezheim is too drunk to know what is going on around him most of the time.” He shook his head. “I swear, that man is going to wind up with knife in his back, forged from his own metal.”

For the first part of what Oz had to say, Alyssa just raised an eyebrow. She went right back to scowling with his last line. The one elf that Alyssa had spoken with for more than a few seconds, Enrique, hadn’t looked like she would harm a fly even if one kept smacking into her face. Then again, the elves had apparently started a war. Alyssa had yet to hear the other side of that story, so she was going to reserve full judgment for another time.

“So she’s not actually a slave?”

Alyssa glanced to her mother, nodding. She had just about asked a similar question. Turning back to Oz, she watched as he scoffed.

“In name only. And everyone knows it. She’s just that good. That… and Rezheim suffering an accident would probably be a positive for society as a whole.”

“Uh huh,” Alyssa said, crossing her arms. “And when are you going to go find this… does the elf have a name?”

“Tomorrow morning at sunrise!” Jason clutched his sketch to his chest and… was he swooning? “Her name is Guillem. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Catal chuckled into his ale mug, but Oz looked a little sick.

“Is he alright?” Oz asked, leaning to the side as he spoke quietly to Alyssa. “He’s been like this since I mentioned the stupid elf.”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “He is a sad, strange little man.” Despite not bothering to quiet her voice as Oz was doing, Jason didn’t even look like he was on the same world, let alone listening in. “Mind if I tag along? I have a few things I wouldn’t mind speaking to a blacksmith about as well.”

“Alyssa.”

Again, Alyssa looked to her mother. This time, she was surprised with the heavy note of warning in her voice.

“Farming equipment is one thing. Weapons are another entirely.”

Seen right through instantly. Not that Alyssa was really trying to hide anything, but it figured that her mother would know what she wanted a blacksmith for.

With only a few words from her mother, Alyssa found herself reconsidering. Introducing guns to a medieval society, even one with magic, was bound to change things. Monsters didn’t use human magics. There was a good chance that no other species had something like Projectile Reflection. If humans started arming their armies with even something as archaic as muskets, they could easily mow down entire fields of enemy forces. While that might be a good thing for defending their city from hordes of ants or even the Fortress of Pandora, she could easily envision a future where the humans went on some kind of crusade to rid the world of monsters with their new weapons.

This elf had been captured in a war as well. There was that side of things to think about as well. If Alyssa showed off her guns and, a year out, an army of elves marched on the city with their own muskets… there probably wouldn’t be enough arcanists around to cast Projectile Reflection for every soldier. Things would go poorly no matter what.

Nodding her head, Alyssa decided against it. At least for now. Maybe if she met this elf and got to know her, she could quietly request a few things. But there wasn’t much point to it anyway. Her shotgun was whole and hearty and the revolver on her hip hadn’t even been fired yet. A month without firing a gun had to be a record for her.

“You’re talking about those guns,” Oz said. He shook his head. “You said they were limited in use? I don’t think a blacksmith is what you’d need for those. An arcanist would be the one to go to about fixing up or extending the enchantments. Wouldn’t be cheap though. I doubt whatever Tzhei’s paying you would be enough.”

“And what about your work for her?” The tone her mother used shifted from warning to admonishment. “You shouldn’t just abandon her on such short notice. That’s irresponsible. She’s counting on you.”

“Well, I doubt there would be anything to deliver tomorrow given that I just cleared out everything she made over the past week. Kasita is always happy to be given a job. She tends to take the front counter when I’m doing things like today. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind tomorrow either.”

“If you’re causing trouble to someone who has helped you so much—”

“Mom. I’m not causing trouble. In fact, I’ve managed to go a full month without getting Tzheitza involved in something unsavory. And that includes damage to her shop,” she added with a flickering glance to a shrugging Oz. “I can safely say that I’m in an unprecedented streak of not causing her trouble.”

“I know Tzhei,” Oz said with a smile. “She won’t mind. If she even notices you’re gone.” His voice turned a little sour. “She’s been so absorbed in her work lately. She didn’t even acknowledge my presence last time I swung by for a chat.”

He was downplaying that a bit. Unless he had managed to visit while Alyssa had been out recently, he had wound up with a particularly foul smelling potion thrown at him last time. That Alyssa then had to clean up. Just thinking about it made Alyssa scowl.

But not for long.

“It’s decided then,” she said with a smile.

Meeting an elf, she thought to herself. Enrique had been an elf, but Alyssa had only exchanged a dozen words with her. They had been far more preoccupied with freedom and escaping and such things. So a new elf that was presumably not trying to escape and wasn’t involved in sexual slavery… might actually be fun. I wonder what that will be like.