The shopkeeper’s glasses gleam from just over the mountain of junk jutting the lip of the bag. She stares for a good, long minute.

“Ignoring the other… stuff,” she says, choosing her words carefully, “you will need a wand.”

“A wand serves as a conduit for rune drawing. I have something meeting that criteria.”

The tint of her glasses encompass her words for her: amateur. “The material matters. A quipp is no good beyond a first level. It will explode in your hands and the ink is a pain to wash. Quills can at least withstand a second level...”

“I will not be purchasing a wand today.”

She grumbles her displeasure, ringing up each of my requests through the antique cash register on the counter. One by one, the excess merchandise drags through the air to their respective shelves. I wander away from the counter after the scrolls to peruse her stock.

“Golems?”

“Once you learn Construct, you can move onto those. Construct and the basic Golem are both earth elementals, but that should be no issue for you since you’re an omni-caster. Once you have mastered the basics, you can begin introducing other element cores and materials. They’re not suitable spells while in combat, but are worth the effort and energy invested if you intend to enter a dungeon.”

“I’ll take both. And this too.”

The book whisks from another shelf to the counter at once. I follow after it with the two scrolls. She eyes the second one as she rings it in, lenses glinting curiously.

“You certainly read the tag. Is this everything?”

The pout on her wrinkled lips is endearing.

“Do you happen to have a room I may change?”

She jabs her thumb behind her. “There’s a room over there you may use, Miss Hero of Ingenuity.”

“Ryan is fine.”

“As you wish. I’ll finish up while you change.”

I leave the shop with a new satchel and my purchases. Adjusting the strap and slipping the near-empty coin pouch into its main pocket, I approach the wary Jo hidden in the shadows of an opposing shop. He stiffens at my approach.

“May the rains nurture your soul,” I greet my hunter pleasantly. “Did you have a good day?”

His silence is palpable. He escorts me back to the Inn, where Carlile is less than impressed. He leans against the wood of the table while the rest of his team are seated, attempting to present casual or intimidating and failing both in equal measure.

Jo leaves my side to sit down, palming a loaf of bread from the center of the table.

“Why weren’t you here?”

I cock my head. “Did you say we had plans to meet up?”

He takes a deep breath and releases it. Toning down his wrath, he continues in a measured voice. “We were hired to accompany you. We can’t do that if we don’t know where you are.”

“I understand.” I flit my attention to Jo, catching his eye. “Next time, I will write a note.”

Communications established.

Carlile catches my side glance and frowns. Folding his arms, he narrows his glare. “Your actions have consequences. We will not be paid for today’s work.”

“You said that monster parts can be sold for pay.”

“I did.”

“Tomorrow, let’s visit an area suitable to you. You can keep all the monsters you kill.”

He tilts his head. There is a clear furrow of this person doesn’t get it. “I will pick you up, tomorrow morning, from here.”

“Tomorrow morning. Just after sunrise. The front gates,” I counter mildly, matching his intonation.

“The front gates?”

I smile.

“Just after sunrise?”

He’s good at slipping a hard blade into his tone.

“That’s correct.”

“The forest line is usually good for some quick cash. If we leave at sunrise, there’ll be enough time for a full-day trip.”

“That should be fine.”

His glance flits to the satchel, unconsciously appraising the tracking spell on the pouch. They stray subtly, calculating, then return to me.

“Jo will escort you if you’re late.”

Jo dips his head briefly, gulping down a half-loaf of bread. A staff slips her way over to the table to collect the orders. I grant her access, then step away.

“Where are you going?”

“To the castle.”

He holds the door, then strides with quick steps across the streets. The smell of bread from the morning has been replaced with roasted meat, garlic, and spices.

“I told you that I like a man who knows his place.” His eyes are on the streets, but his hand is on the pommel of his sword.

“You did.”

“Sebastian, what do you think that means?”

I know the answer. Of course I know it. I can’t run one business, let alone an industry, without.

“I read some of the records from this world. Your kingdom summons people quite regularly.”

“Five centuries to a thousand, give or take.”

“And the accounts of the people who were summoned?”

“What about them?”

“They seem to be in short supply.”

“You seem to want to make a point.”

“Am I making a point?”

“Sebastian, I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I’m not impressed with the games. You made a comment yesterday too – something about a hostage consolidation?”

“Consolation.”

“Sebastian. The ritual doesn’t summon anyone unwilling. Is that what you think of our kingdom?”

“The records I read aren’t written by any of the Summoned.” I link my fingers behind my back, slipping slightly behind his stride to avoid a passerby, her arms laden within a bundle of fabrics, scrolls, and miscellaneous goods. She offers a brief nod, but saves her words behind the grit in her teeth. “What I would like to know is; where are the books and scrolls and journals that say I wanted to come here. I wanted to be taken from my world to this one to deal with its problems?”

“Is that why you ran off? Out of spite?”

The words catch in my throat. They refuse to come out.

“Sebastian. None of us care about you or your circumstances. You have given us no reason to do so. You know the king has put all four of you on a leash. If you can prove your worth, if you know your place, then that leash will relax. I am willing to cooperate with you, too. But no one is paid a free meal without doing the work.”

“I am not a dog.”

“And I am not a trainer.”

He looks at me. I look back. We’re nearly at the bridge, but he stops anyways.

“I don’t know the details, but there’s an element of the Rifts that our world can’t reach. Sebastian. We don’t need a dog to solve our problems. We need a person – one who’s willing to put in the work and get the job done.”

The conversation Sarah and I had in the bookstore creeps to mind. I take my commitments seriously. But this ginger, and that woman, Tammy, both seem convinced I have made one to this world.

I step forward, triggering him to resume walking as well. “I understand that your kingdom believes the Rift is our responsibility to handle,” I begin, choosing my words slowly. “I cannot promise you what you are asking.”

He flashes the security guard his identification. His face is masked, tension weighted throughout his body.

“I will help with the Rift. If you give me the space to do so.”

“You haven’t proven you can be trusted.”

“You haven’t given me the space to award that trust.” I reach into the satchel and hold the pouch up to him. “What do you say?”

He’s silent for a good, long minute. “Open communications. Minimum check-in every second day. I will not accept less.”

I loop the strings of the pouch around my belt and secure it. It falls to my waist, pulling the strings taut. The tracking spell triggers, glittering purple within his hazel irises. Same as when Elleven rummaged through the purse at the weapons shop.

His jaw is set, stare firm.

“You will be at the front gates in the morning?”

“Sunrise.”

A deep, slow breath. “Alright then.”

He walks away.

Saunter to Sundial, a little shadow on my heels. I hop from the hallway to the stone path and follow it into the copse. Tiny wings fold behind one of the translucent leaves. The king is beneath, robe rumpled around his arms like a makeshift handcuff.

I cross my legs on the stone. He barely awards me a glance, the exhaustion dragging his entire frame like someone had turned over a bucket and drenched him in the stuff.

“In the Rufleah Kingdom,–” he starts suddenly. His voice is so hoarse and quiet that he seems to be whispering to himself. His inflection, however, inclines to me. “–anyone can become king. None of them work this damn hard.”

The Rufleah Kingdom. I read about it, briefly. According to the text, a council manages the affairs of the kingdom day-to-day. Each citizen has the right to elect themselves king for one day, but their role is inferior to that of the council.

“You look like shit.”

His cackle hastily deteriorates into a coughing fit. Wiping a few drops of blood from his lips, he wipes it off on his rumpled robes half-assedly and sighs. “Damn right.”

“What is the council of monarchs?”

“Fuckin’ waste of time. Money too.”

“Some of your citizens say that about you. You don’t seem to want to be in charge.”

He scoffs. It’s faint; barely registering.

I reach into my satchel and pass him a flask. “Water; your Knight can check for poison.”

He grabs the flask and takes a swig before passing it back. The knight remains hidden, watching. Some life is restored to his wettened throat, but his vitality is borderline negative.

“Who told you about the council?”

“Was I not supposed to know?”

He sighs. “Ingenuity, more like Troublemaker.”

“The citizens don’t seem too pleased with you either.”

It isn’t an accusation. He doesn’t take it as one. “This job ain’t worth the damn Rena.”

“Is that what drew you in?”

He groans, teetering from the bench. I catch and steady him, finding his frail arms within the heaps of fabric. There are beads of sweat along his jaw.

“How long have you had the fever?”

“Day?”

“Seonday.”

“Eight years.”

I chuckle at his joke, checking his vitals and temperature. There is a strange sensation, and the Rubik’s Cube plucks up unsteadily.

“That’s nice,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. There is the faintest colour restored to his cheeks, strength to his voice.

So, this is why Tammy gave me those instructions. My instinct to withdraw is stifled. Legs collapse to stone. A strong hand catches my arm and shoulder.

Warning: Insufficient Mana

Warning: Item Shutdown

He whistles, summoning a cloaked figure to his side. My vision blurs and swirls.

“…Circle… No one.”

The cloak crouches down and collects something. Brown eyes cut through the blur. Lips mouth something briefly, drowned out by the countdown. The world tips.

Shutdown Paused.

Conditions Met – Recharging.

My gut retches. Polished stone drags across my nails, then knuckles. A hand pats my back and rubs it.

“First jumps’ always the worst,” Ivans says simply. He passes me a flask. The water tastes of sugar. “You’ll feel better in a bit.”

I lean my head back against the platform, rolling my eyes over the chamber. Dragging my heel against the floor to my body, I shift my elbow over the knee and take a few minutes to breathe. Some of the blue particles brush against my skin and disperse into smaller particles that absorb into it. The Rubik’s Cube has returned to normal, albeit slow.

He trades the sugar water for some cookies, munching into a few himself. I nibble on one, letting the silence fill the cylindrical chamber for a few minutes.

“Feeling better?”

“Much.”

“This only works because you’re a Summoned. Your Item is converting the pure mana to magic as you absorb it.”

“You used the mana to activate the Summoning Circle.”

He shakes his head. “That’s different.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think you should allow this to happen too often. There’s a reason it’s not common.”

I nod. His mouth splits into a wide yawn. Meandering onto his feet, he passes me another bag of cookies. “The doors will direct you to the gates when you’re ready to leave. I’m gonna go to bed.”

I wave him out of the door, then wander over to the steps and sit. The lady at the shop had slipped a book into my satchel while I was changing; an introductory volume to Incantations and Runes.

A bit underhanded, sure, but a business sense I can admire.

Flipping open the book, I spend the next while sifting through the information. An essential language unto itself, with basic rules for syntax and other fun elements. Finishing with the basics, I get up and stretch, complete a brief task, then turn my attention to decoding the Summoning Circle and playing with a few letters and phrases myself. By the end of the night, I have worked up a decent sweat and come to a fascinating discovery:

There’s another Summoning Circle.

The group is waiting just outside the gates when I arrive. I flash the guard my Identification card and step through, then hold up my hand to Jo. Wordlessly, he fills it with the pouch that Ivans lifted from me the previous night. I fasten it around my belt, then flash Carlile a pleasant smile.

“Shall we?”

He folds his arms. “Ready to be a team player?”

After yesterday, I know exactly what he’s expecting me to say. I stretch my smile further.

“Nope.”