“Yes,” Elyssandra said. “That. We’ve heard enough. You’ve both been working so hard for the shop. Isn’t it time for a little break? Let good old Craghammer and Elyssandra take over for a spell.”
“But we’ve only just opened shop,” Braiden said, already searching for excuses. “What if we run out of stock? What if we run out of moongrass accessories to sell?”
Craghammer shrugged. “Begging your pardon, Braiden, but as magical as they are, the moongrass items are still only selling at a steady pace. It’s entirely feasible for you to work a little harder to build a small stockpile, just enough to keep the shelves full while the two of you go wandering and such.”
Braiden rubbed his chin. Craghammer had an excellent point. Already his orcish apprentice was learning so much. Or was it the other way around? He was teaching Braiden how to run his own business.
“Say I do stockpile a few extra crates of elixir,” Augustin said. “What happens when a thirsty adventurer comes in search of Augustin’s Effervescent Elixirs, but finds no Augustin waiting for them?”
Braiden rolled his eyes. Elyssandra chuckled.
“You said so yourself. Limited supply and high demand. We can easily tell customers that you’re away on important business and will be back within the week. Who doesn’t want to hear about the Wizard of Weathervale’s latest adventure? They’ll come back to the shop to find you. I guarantee it.”
Elyssandra buffed her nails against her tunic, smug and self-satisfied. She was right, too. Before becoming an adventurer slash caravan escort slash shopkeeper, Elyssandra was the nearest thing to a celebrity seeker, hunting down heroes to sign their own pages in her special journal. She, of all people, understood the mind of a true devotee.
“We’ll have to work extra hard for a few days,” Braiden told Augustin. “Just to build a supply.”
“But then we’ll be free to travel after,” Augustin answered. “Even for a short while.”
Everyone jumped when Craghammer smashed his fist on the counter. “Then it’s settled,” he said jovially, deciding on everyone’s behalf. “Make your moongrass and brew your elixirs, then set off on your small journey.”
Elyssandra clasped Braiden by the shoulder, massaging it with a smile. “I promise, the shop will be waiting for you when you come back. Everything is going to be just fine.”
And Warren and Bones would always be there to lend extra hands, too, as long as Elyssandra could threaten them out of their beds. Braiden turned everything over and over in his head. He couldn’t find any fault with the plan, so deviously concocted by his assistant shopkeepers.
Within minutes of closing the shop, both wizard and weaver were hurrying down the cobblestoned streets, wrapping scarves around their necks and shivering as a chilly wind blew the heat of the afternoon sun out of Weathervale. Well and good that they now had plans to leave town, but they needed a destination, too. And maps. Couldn’t go anywhere without the right map, could they?
Shop preparations aside, paying the local library a visit would also be worth it, as long as they made it before closing time. Candlelight flickered through the squat but longish building’s many windows, an encouraging sign. Figures milled among the shelves, Weathervale locals browsing the stacks for reading material for the night.
Braiden nodded approvingly as he saw the library’s operating hours engraved in a brass plaque by the door. Perfect. They had at least an hour to peruse the stacks, then time to browse the night market for dinner once the library closed for the evening.
The smell of old paper and ancient ink greeted Braiden’s nostrils, a curious change from the salty breeze that seemed to permeate the rest of Weathervale. At the library’s main counter, an older gentleman with a bald pate and bleary eyes yawned into his open hand, nodding politely as they entered.
“Oh, good,” Augustin whispered as they maneuvered the shelves. “It’s the sleepy one in charge tonight. He’s far morelenient than the one with her hair in a bun and the half-moon spectacles. She’s kind of mean, if I’m honest.”
Braiden quirked an eyebrow as he followed, curious to know why Augustin seemed to know exactly where he was going. “You’ve visited before, then?”
“When I have an hour or two to spare,” Augustin answered, grinning over his shoulder. “This isn’t the first time I’ve looked up places to investigate for air elementals, you know.”
Braiden smiled, remembering how he’d done something similar over his own lunch breaks. There weren’t many actual accounts of encounters with the othergoats — most literature still considered them so rare to the point of mythical.
But Braiden knew they were real, of course. How else could he have spun his favorite black sweater out of othergoat wool? Unless, of course, the man he’d purchased the wool from had lied to him and only really sourced it from a more common domesticated animal.
But that was impossible. The othergoat sweater warmed him on chilly days like nothing else, its very fibers infused with a cozy supernatural heat. They had to be real, damn it. If Augustin could have his air elementals, then Braiden deserved to meet an othergoat, too.
It felt so satisfying pulling atlases and almanacs from the shelves, Braiden and Augustin putting their heads together and finding the place where their interests overlapped. Braiden scrawled an ever-shrinking list of locations on a sheet of paper.
Air elementals frequented places where the wind blew the longest, most consistently, contrary to what Braiden thought, which was to look to locations where the wind howled its very strongest.
“A valley,” Augustin suggested, pointing at a newer map of the realm, indicating a few of the options they’d already narrowed down together. “Someplace where the wind flowsfreely. Never ending. The ever-present rushing of air means a greater chance of the essences coalescing into an actual elemental.”
“Yes, agreed,” Braiden said. “It’s where othergoats are supposed to congregate, too. Keeps them cool in hotter seasons and keeps them safe from predators.”
He ran his hand over the parchment, following Augustin’s finger, tapping his own nail on the map as they traveled Aidun together. And suddenly, all at once, their fingers paused to press at the exact same spot.
They exchanged a smile. Yes. This place would be perfect.
Chapter
