“If you could.”
Eldric nodded at me. “And what’s her business here? Another of your tagalongs?”
“A young woman eager to see the world,” Marc told him as he smiled at me. “I thought I’d show her your impressive lab.”
Eldric sighed and turned toward the stairs. “Follow me then, and don’t touch anything.”
Chapter 9
Shadows. They almost consumed the narrow, windowless passage. Only the flickering torches hanging on the walls kept them at bay, but just barely. The only sound that could be heard was the soft drip of water as it leaked through the stone ceiling and onto the hard floor.
Footsteps broke the monotony. Heavy, confident boots marched along the cobblestone-covered floor. A long shadow stretched across the floor and danced in tune with the flames. Piercing red eyes stared ahead at the end of the hall, rarely blinking and never averting.
The figure reached the door, and their shadow fell on a heavy silver lock that hung from the handle. They reached into their cloak and drew out a chain of heavy keys. Some were plain bronze, others a wondrous gold. The visitor picked a silver one and opened the lock. A faint glow emanated from the lock as it was released before fading with the unlocking.
The figure pushed open the door, and the portal swung away from them and into the room. Light spilled into the hall, revealing the cloaked figure. He was about forty, with a black beard and short hair, though graying at the temples. His eyes were as black as his hair, and could pierce a person’s soul with their keen sight.
A smile lay on his lips that didn’t reach those eyes as he stepped into the room. The space covered fifty square feet and contained a huge hearth opposite the door. Gas lamps hung from the stone ceiling and hovered over two long stretches of tables. A mess of beakers, small cauldrons, pots, and pans, all used, covered the tops. Herbs were also hung on hooks attached to the ceiling, and the room smelled both bitter and sweet.
The largest cauldron was reserved for the massive hearth. A whole cow could have been cooked over the flames. The fire wasn’t fed by wood, but by a pile of glittering rubies from which sprang the dancing blaze. A small chair stood beside the hearth, and an even smaller figure sat stooped in its seat.
The figure was an old woman, many decades past her prime. Her face was a mess of wrinkles, and the thin hands in her lap were mere skin stretched over bone. Age hadn’t weathered the bright light in her blue eyes. The firelight was reflected in them as she stared into the flames.
She narrowed her eyes as the man locked the door behind himself. Her gravely voice snapped at him. “What do you want?”
The man tucked his chain under his cloak and strolled toward her. “I merely wished to see how you were faring, Lady Blackbrew.” He stopped beside her chair and looked her over. “You look as radiant as ever.”
Blackbrew sneered up at him. “Save your stupid flatteries for someone who doesn’t know your lying tongue. You’ve only come here to see if I’ve found a replacement for the girl.”
“And have you?”
A crooked smile slipped onto her lips as she cocked her head in his direction. “No.”
His cold smile faltered. “Perhaps you’re not looking hard enough.”
Blackbrew cackled and waved her hand at the cauldron. The black contents softly bubbled under the heat from the fire. “Would you care to handle the Grimspire?”
“I would gladly manage the cauldron if I could, but you have the certain touch it demands,” he mused as he leaned over to study the interior. “Though I wonder if it’s reached the length of its usefulness if it can’t find a single person in all the worlds who can help me.”
Blackbrew scowled at him. “Nothing escapes the Grimspire reflection so long as it’s given the right reward.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Then it needs another sacrifice?”
“You’ve soiled its walls with enough blood to scour the whole of all the worlds,” she countered as she tapped a sharp fingernail against the top of her other hand. “But what you want to find is impossible. There is no other person like the girl that the captain lost.”
“You say there’s no limit to the cauldron’s reflection, and yet it’s been unable to find the girl since her arrival.”
Blackbrew sat straight and wrinkled her nose. “The cauldron was a gift from the gods to my ancestor. It’s bound to obey them.”
The man smiled as he shook his head. “You and your gods, Lady Blackbrew. Even if they did exist, they wouldn’t bother with such a trivial matter as my little treasure hunt.”
She narrowed her eyes at the man. “They care deeply about everything given in their keep, Crestmoor, otherwise, you wouldn’t have to go to so much trouble to find it.”
He took a wooden spoon down from its place hanging over the hearth and turned it over in his hands. “The only trouble I have is with the traps set by that blasted pirate, one of which needs that woman.” He tightened his grip around the spoon, and the wood groaned under his strength. “And that stupid fool Encina let that lizard breath capture her with hardly a fight.”
“The cauldron can’t help you find another,” Blackbrew insisted as a faint smile reappeared. “It seems you’ll have to give up on your dream.”
His eyes flashed with fury, and his words came out in a low, gravely snarl. “I always get what I want, Blackbrew, and I have never wanted anything more in my life than the treasure of Sam Morgan, and I mean to get it, even if I have to burn the whole world down.” He threw the spoon into the fire. The fire wrapped around the smooth wood, slowly consuming it. Crestmoor turned to her and pointed at the spoon. “Find me a replacement, or that will be your fate.”
