Now that we got our funds I could finally do what I had wanted for a long time. With SAS team following me, I walked towards the nearest shops and stalls that I had taken special note of. Those were, of course, selling and trading books, scrolls, bamboo and bone slips, metal sheets, loose pages and other related items.

I stopped at the stall that was managed by a youth. He was wearing a brown pullover and jeans with a dark blue mantle resting on his shoulders. A baggy hood hid his facial features. He looked to be in his late teens, and he was the one who had tried to sell the book about modern technologies. For a while, I simply looked at the books on display.

Some books had titles on their covers and/or spines. Some, especially older and used looking ones, were richly decorated with embossings, gold leaf or small rivets. And others were just plain leather, wood or cloth.

I stretched out my hand towards one of the older-looking books, before I thought about possible consequences and asked the seller: “May I?”

The youth, who had been fixedly staring at soldiers behind me, came to his senses and nodded with a “Yeah, sure, sir.”.

I picked up the book and leafed through the pages. It turned out to be an old plant atlas with hand-drawn illustrations and commentaries in what it seemed like Old German. Definitely high collector’s value, but not much of interest to me. I looked more around the titles: some relatively modern prints of Greek and Roman classics, some Arabic I could not read, occasional titles like Discours de métaphysique, An Historical Account of Two Notable Corruptions of Scripture, Theozoologie that did not tell me much. Not that I was expecting to find a colourful print of “Introduction to Supernatural and Magic for Dummies”, definitely not.

I snapped my fingers at the seller who had again spaced out, scrutinizing the stoically indifferent-looking SAS. Considering that his energy pattern appeared to be pretty ordinary human-looking and that he seemed to be fairly familiar with modern technology, he might have come to some conclusions of his own. When he returned his attention to me, I returned him the plant atlas and pointed at the “Muggle technology compendium” he had tried to sell to the half-deaf customer some time ago.

As he gave me the compendium, I also handed over one of the diaries I had found in the pyramid.

“Your evaluation?” - I asked.

He first carefully wiped his left hand above the book. When he did that, I glimpsed that he had several colourful rings adorning his fingers. My guess was, that was some detection mojo.

Nothing happened, so he took the diary. He carefully checked the first page, then turned some pages before stopping. He paused to find some other book which was in a lockbox behind him and also opened it. While he switched his attention between the diary and the book, his eyes occasionally narrowed and widened, while deeply furrowed forehead revealed his deep concentration.

At the same time I also looked through the technology compendium, which actually turned out to be a copy of a common children’s encyclopedia. Surprise, surprise. What was odd, was the contrast between the formatting still bearing the markings of the printing house and the high-quality leather binding with thick, exquisite pages. It looked as if all the text had been transferred over similar to a digital copy between the computers. WIthout any selectivity, all printed information had been perfectly moved as if somebody had used a fancy photocopier.

After a while the young bookseller closed and handed the diary back to me. For a moment, he stood silent, organizing his thoughts.

“Some common signs of Uttarakuru, while punctuation resembles what was marked as Lemurian.” - he slowly said, as he tapped the book in his hands.

I used my perception to see that the opened pages of the book in his hands were filled with calligraphic handwritten text, that had apparently been written by either a quill, dip or fountain pen.

Then the youngster awkwardly added: “My Teacher says I’m not ready yet to know details for deeper things, I hope you understand. Perhaps there are signs of Atlantean, but I haven’t gotten access to these texts yet. Anyway, language used in your book is sharing same common characteristics, which is odd.” . Then something came into his mind as his heartbeat accelerated and he continued: “Wait...perhaps… no, but… common ancestry? Impossible… but…. I’m sorry, I have no idea what to say about that.”

I shrugged at that response, instead I asked him: “Do not mind it then, young man.” - creating a position of seniority was a chance for me - “Anyway, due to some unexpected changes, I am forced to take up the task of teaching. Have you got any organized books that would concisely describe basics?”

“Basics?” - the youngster asked, looking a bit puzzled.

“You know, structured introduction.” - I acted as if I did not care much: “I have a promise to keep, and it turned out to be teaching basics to a sudden talent from non-Gifted background.”

“Oh.” - bookseller nodded before asking: “Why not simply send to…, uh, don’t mind me.”

Hmm, apparently there was some sort of institution for teaching. And from the reactions of SAS, they were apparently as surprised as was I. I remembered hearing a few mentions of Akadem or Academia or Academy while walking around the market, so I dared to guess that the mentioned Akadem was possibly one of these institutions. Doh, what next, flying brooms and talkative hats?

Instead of voicing my thoughts, I leisurely waved my hand and said: “Special circumstances. So, books?”

The easily distracted seller finally returned to the topic: “Well...these are kinda illegal copies. But, sir,” - he winked, although that action looked more like a grimace or a seizure and continued: “I believe HERE you don’t mind about that? Seven books covering first level basics, introducing most of the current tendencies found on the habitable part of our plane. Tenth of an ounce for each, basic fare for official Akademian books.”

I cocked an eyebrow: “Used to be more expensive.” - a safe bet that at some point in the past things were more expensive. A good way to cement my position as an experienced old-timer.

Meanwhile I opened the books and checked the first few pages. Modern English, but seemed to be printed using old-fashioned press. Leather cover, thick paper sewn together to form the solid, heavy binding.

Then I added: “Oh, by the way, show the books about Words.”

“Words?” - youngster looked around at his wares: “Unless you mean ordinary ones, then, the Soul Words?”

No idea, really. But it did sound kind of possible.

Therefore I nodded: “What have you got? I got an inspiration recently, but that is not exactly my expertise, so need to catch up on some theoretical details.”

Now it was youngster’s turn to shrug: “Nope, sir. I don’t think anyone is studying these anymore. Kinda old stuff, outdated even. And those who may still deal with that obscure stuff, don’t really like to write. Words got power, blah-blah-blah. Guess they believe the same for the written words too.”

“Hmm. Thought there might still be a few around.” - I slowly grumbled: “So, nothing?”

“Well, I think there’s a paragraph in History of the Theory book you just bought, sir. But that isn’t what you asked for.”

I shook my head: “Nevermind then.”. It was worth a try.

---

When I turned around to get the gold that I had left for SAS to keep, I remembered something else. I looked at Aitan, who had been standing just a step behind me observing our surroundings.

I asked him: “Anything you need from here? Seems to be quite adequate stock.” - well, it was better to get things done in one place, and the young bookseller did not give off the dangerous feel like some other vendors.

Aitan raised his hand to pat his beard and after a second of thought said: “Encyclopedias would be good. You know, species, characteristics, such stuff.” - good, they did not want to place their bets on uncertain things like special skills, instead they were going for data they needed for their work.

I turned back towards the youth: “So, have you got that in stock?”

“Mmm, sure,” - he answered while picking books around him and stacking them up between us: “Language?”. If my senses had been any weaker, I would have missed a silent whisper which was breathed out: “Government?”.

I blatantly confirmed: “Government they are, on most days. Private business today, so relax. So, languages?” - I directed the question at Rabbi, who had become somewhat tense at the mention of government.

“Most modern and classics is okay.”

In no time, the youth had gathered all the books he could find.

“‘Specie plauntes ond fetures’, ‘Obvious and Hidden’, ‘From abaia to zaratan’...” - he mumbled as he checked the books he had found. Finally he found whole nine, rather thick and heavy tomes.

“Two for this, as that one is rare, standard copies for these, tent each, making it half. Four-point-nine, but you bought rares and some other books too, let’s make it five and half.”

Five and half ounces of pure gold… over six grands. That was unexpected, I had to admit, but tolerable.

I threw over six one-ounce nuggets of gold as payment to the seller, and waved my hand as he tried to return the change.

Just as I was going to bid farewell, the youth hesitated and asked: “About the book you showed… If you will want to sell it, please consider coming here, sir.”

I nodded. I liked the lad, so I asked in neutral voice: “Name?”

“Matthew, Matthew Marsh, sir.”

---

After we had walked away from the book stall, Aitan asked me: “So you came to Britain to teach?”. Wonderful, the best cover is when people come up with explanations themselves. Due to the active imagination, people tend to think too much and fill in the missing details themselves and that was what I needed.

“Not exactly, but some of that too.” - I gave a vague answer, leaving the rest out on purpose.

---

There were still several hours before midnight and the start of the auction. Therefore, we used the available time to look around a bit.

As a result of our shopping spree, I managed to purchase an interesting chain. According to the middle-aged, heavily scarred woman selling it, it was a so-called Giant-lock forged by svartalfar, quite rarely seen in human society. In addition to my interest in the chain’s origin that had to do with the legendary Norse black elves, I found it’s effect to be extremely fascinating. Supposedly, this small, dull grey chain could suppress the physical strength of the target without being affected by magic.

And even better, the chain could be keyed to a specific user, and the user could adjust the level of suppression. I bought it to find the difference between the magic and my energy, not to mention that it could be used to train people. Unfortunately, this small chain cost me fifty ounces of gold and five more for the use instructions - a total ripoff. At least I managed to haggle it down from original one and half hundred.

The rest of the things were bought by Aitan and SAS. Those included various samples (total - 25 ounces of gold), a stack of ominous-looking, but impressively decorated books sold because their blood-stained contents were illegible (ten ounces, but Aitan reasoned that the researchers could use computers to analyze the text) and a set of protective amulets (fifty ounces each).

These amulets were cheapest, because the higher quality ones had the prices easily reaching hundreds and even thousands of ounces. Aitan had said before that one of the aims of the operation was to find such protective items, but there was a high risk to be swindled.

We decided that the particular booth we finally chose was legit, because its customers looked confident, stern-looking and had the ability to spend thousands of ounces. Nobody haggled and everyone seemed to be pretty satisfied with their purchases.

When Aitan was handing out the amulets to the soldiers, I heard him muttering: “Fifty-five thousands each, we’ll need to note it down as experimental objects and us being test subjects with corresponding need for compensation payment.”. He was a rabbi alright.