Zach awoke on Friday morning in his Denver apartment, already full of nervous energy. In the 'real' world, there wasn't much he could do about the rapidly approaching equinox festival, so he focused on his morning routine.

Is it still a routine if I do it less than half the time? he wondered.

Zach showered, got dressed, and went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, hoping his roommates hadn't messed with his little experiment while he was gone. Sure enough, a half gallon of sludgy brown liquid was right where he left it at the back of the fridge. He grabbed the container, full of coarse-ground coffee steeping in water, and set it on the counter.

He filtered it through two coffee filters into another half-gallon jar and tossed the coffee grounds in the trash. Then he poured about four ounces of the dark black liquid into a thermos. To that he added four ounces of milk and two tablespoons of sugar.

Zach twisted the lid onto the thermos and shook it thoroughly, then opened it and took a cautious sip. He was pretty sure such a simple recipe would turn out fine, but cold brew coffee normally only needed to steep for eight to 16 hours, not 36.

"Whoo, that's strong," he muttered when the bitter and rich flavor hit his tongue. "But pretty tasty."

He added a couple ice cubes to the thermos to keep it cold and water it down a little, then stored the rest of the cold brew concentrate in the fridge. He'd used up his breakfast time messing with coffee, so he grabbed a granola bar to eat on the bike ride to the university.

Before he left the apartment, he debated whether to give Matt the October rent check in advance, just in case. After all, Zach had the money for it in his college fund, also known as his dad's life insurance payout. He shook his head. Even if he did end up staying a few nights in New Albion, it was only the 21st and he'd have plenty of time to write the rent check later.

As Zach pedaled toward campus, his thoughts moved to the topic of college. He felt more than a little guilty about screwing things up, but it wasn't like he had a choice due to the flipping. And he reasoned that his dad would have wanted him to pursue his passion. His mom would probably agree too, but he wasn't going to bring it up with her just yet. She was probably halfway around the world for work anyway. She'd always loved traveling, so of course she ended up with a job that kept her on the move all the time.

"Hey, Erin," Zach said as he sat down in the empty seat to her left. The lecture hall was mostly empty, but that was standard for niche economics classes. The university had a solid Econ program, but it didn't get many enrollees compared to a dedicated business school.

"Zach! Nice to see you again. Doing alright?" She looked a little concerned and the lack of teasing proved it. Her short blonde hair was back in a tiny ponytail, looking youthful and summery. To Zach, it was yet another reminder that the end of summer and the equinox festival were fast approaching.

"I'm alright, thanks," he said, and it was true. Sure, he had a lot on his shoulders and some monumental decisions looming ahead of him, like whether to drop from college. But he was doing okay. In any case, he definitely wasn't going to make any major changes until after his festival venture panned out.

He was also wary of saying anything that might catch Erin's curiosity. He didn't want to cause her any more worry, and he didn't trust himself to keep all the crazy magic stuff a secret if she really pressed the issue. He'd never been a good liar.

"Did I miss anything important yesterday?" he asked, glancing Erin's way.

She met his glance, her blue eyes surprisingly bright behind her glasses. "Nothing I didn't already text you. I know you weren't keen on me sending you daily updates, but I don't want my study partner failing out."

Zach shook his head, embarrassed. "No, it's fine. I appreciate it, I just didn't want to be a burden on you."

"If it's for you, it's not a burden," she said.

Zach didn't know what to make of that. He stared at Erin for a moment, but she was busy digging through her backpack for something.

"Thanks," he said. Then he got out his own textbook and tried to focus on the lecture.

Zach spent every spare minute between classes catching up on missed assignments and studying future chapters. But when he returned home, he poured himself a glass of cold brew and milk, then switched gears to something more interesting.

He started with some basic internet searches to narrow down his approach before he really delved deep into the details. He was looking for famous Rocky Mountain gold mines from the gold rush era, preferably near Denver. He figured if random prospectors in the mid-1800's could get rich off them, so could he.

Of the hundreds of gold mines scattered throughout the Colorado Rocky Mountains, two locations stood out to Zach: Idaho Springs and Cripple Creek. The Idaho Springs area had been home to dozens of high yield mines, and it was only 40 miles straight west from Denver and New Albion. On the other hand, Cripple Creek was just southwest of Pike's Peak. While it was a lot further from New Albion, its proximity to Colorado Springs and its magical equivalent of Grotto could be lucrative.

Online maps said that the mines were each a 12 hour walk from their respective cities, at least with modern roads. Zach decided that a funded expedition in the 'magic world' should be able to reach them pretty easily, even if some trailblazing was involved.

With his targets selected, Zach put his excellent memory to use and memorized dozens of important details for each site, like the location relative to physical landmarks, the clues that had lead to the initial discovery, and the mine's early gold yield. There wasn't much sense in including what they obtained using modern excavation and chemical extraction methods after the easy gold had been exhausted. The returns on that seemed pretty terrible anyway, often just one gram of gold per ton of ore.

Zach was no geologist, so he didn't fully understand all the terms he encountered, like 'telluride minerals' and 'sulfide ores', but his hope was that New Albion's Purifiers could use magic to extract gold from those things. At the very least, Zach's crew could focus on the easier gold veins, like the first miners did back during the gold rush.

My crew, huh? he thought. He doubted he'd actually play a major role in the mining expedition, other than providing information and funding, but it was really exciting to think that he'd be doing something so monumental.

All the research and memorization took Zach's entire evening, and he couldn't afford to stay up too late. He needed to get a good night's sleep for the long day ahead. He had paid the Hard Fought Rest's innkeeper for a wakeup call at 7am and he wanted to be well rested when it came.

Busy day tomorrow. And an important day, he thought as he climbed into bed. For all the stress and uncertainty, Zach was smiling as he fell asleep just after 11pm.

The final bell of the night rang out across the eastern edge of New Albion, marking 8pm. A hooded figure slipped out of the front door of the Hard Fought Rest. The person was tall, slim, and covered from head to toe in utilitarian leather clothes of impressive craftsmanship. Their hood covered most of their face but the bit of exposed skin seemed to shimmer in the moonlight.

The mysterious figure moved quickly and quietly down the street, rounded a corner, then ducked into a tight alleyway, far from prying eyes or ears. Then they spoke, seemingly to no one.

In a soft voice with a hint of an unplaceable accent, they whispered, "I just investigated the target's last known whereabouts and he was nowhere in the building. I gathered some useful information but I cannot afford to stay any longer. Too many guards are in town for the festival, and this disguise isn't perfect."

There was a moment of utter silence, then the figure nodded and said, "Acknowledged. I'm returning to headquarters on foot. I should arrive by sunrise."

They exited the alleyway and turned east. It was a short walk down sparsely populated streets to the east gate. The person gave a friendly wave to the guard on duty and the guard waved back; given the chilly night air, wearing a hood wasn't uncommon. Then they continued down the dusty country road until the guard was out of sight.

The figure placed their hands on their thighs and there was a flash of pale blue light. Then they resumed walking, gradually building to a jog, then a full out run. Every footfall was silent even as they sped up to an impossible pace, covering a dozen feet with every stride. Within minutes, the figure was gone over the eastern horizon.