Chapter 96 – Frostland’s Gate

She slept for at least ten hours, then woke feeling refreshed. The room she’d paid extra for in the Kivinotsuur had its own hearth, and the warmth from the little spell engine kept the room warm despite the raging winds that blew down from the Endelice. Fur rugs and the stone construction retained that heat, while two glyph lamps’ comforting glow was a nice contrast to the streets outside; out there, the world was tinged blue by the heavy clouds filtering the light.

The work room was small, but would serve her needs. It had two polished stone tables and several shelves for her to stock tools. She started by unloading what ink bottles had survived her encounter with the glaciavore, and took stock of what she’d need to replace. Supplies were scarce in Frostland’s Gate, but she could always distill some of the magichemicals she needed herself.

She and Respected Jei had talked about how Mirian would eventually need to explore new concepts in magic, because nothing they knew now could stop the apocalyptic leyline storms or the crashing moon. She’d also had long talks with Xipuatl, Arenthia, and Lecne, and had learned enough soul magic that she was beginning to see places where arcane magic and soul magic might connect, or perhaps even overlap. While what she really wanted was access to Torrian Tower’s advanced arcane physics laboratories, there were experiments she could do here. Some of the small myrvites that lived up in the area, like frost minks and rime beetles, might be perfect.

That, she could have done anywhere, though. What she really wanted was to study the materials from the Labyrinth. If there was something that would really bring together Xipuatl’s theories, she thought it would be there.

Lily had talked about her sister, Beatrice, and her work up here. Three months from now, her team was going to be shipping back what artifacts they had found and data they had collected to Torrviol, but, of course, that would never happen. So she needed to get into Beatrice’s expedition group.

A few months ago, Mirian would have just walked up and told Beatrice what was happening. It was simple, easy, and she had the glaciavore eyes to help prove it. However, she had no idea if the Akanan spies had made it this far north, or if the Syndicate smugglers up here could have their information bought, or even if there might be another time traveler who had their sights set on this village for some reason. She didn’t know if Sulvorath took his airship skiff in a wider route now. Hopefully, he was dealing with the fallout of having the spy’s headquarters burned down and would be too busy, but she couldn’t be sure. She had to approach this endeavor with caution.

After breakfast, her first stop was at Elsadorra’s Appraisal Shop. She already had a pretty good idea of what the glaciavore parts were worth, but she needed to start getting to know the people of the town.

Elsadorra’s shop was as stark as it was organized. She apparently wasted nothing on comfort, with only a single hearth stone in the center of the shop, and even that seemed to be set to a low heat spell. Elsadorra, who was arranging glass vials with magichemicals in them into perfect rows on a shelf, turned as she entered. She was middle aged, and didn’t seem at all bothered by the cold. She was wearing a band with several lenses attached to one side. They looked to be jeweler’s lenses, though they had more glyphs than Lily’s glasses.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Mirian’s first thought was that she had already offended her somehow. “I was advised that I should get my items formally appraised by you,” she said. “The soldiers at the gate and the cook at the Kivinotsuur both said it, so I figured I ought to.”

“They were correct. What do you have?” she said in the same dispassionate tone, and Mirian realized that was probably just how she talked.

“Glaciavore eyes and a mashed coldheart.”

Unlike everyone else she’d mentioned those to, Elsadorra didn’t even have an ounce of skepticism or surprise. “Put the eyes on the table. This part of the table, with the cloth on it. Let me get a container for the heart. Put the heart in the container. Do not get cryoblood on the table.”

Mirian did so, and Elsadorra pulled down one of the lenses so it was in front of her left eye. She spent some time peering at each one, her gloved hands turning them over. One of the lenses had a light beam that shone at the object. When she was done, she set them down.

“These are high quality crystalline eyes. One has a hairline fracture. Very fresh. Worth three doubloons and one drachm each.”

The heart she took more time to examine. “Coldheart is high quality too. Pity about the damage, could have sold it to Cediri. Myrvite biologist in town. As it is, the alchemistry shop will buy it. Worth two doubloons and three drachms. I will prepare papers certifying that value. The cost is sixteen beadcoins.”

That was well below what appraisers usually charged. It barely covered the cost of the paper and the wax. “Why don’t you charge more?” Mirian asked, curious.

“I give good deals so that you will like me more, and then when you have something I actually want, I will be able to get it. I am not interested in money. I am interested in novel things, from either the Labyrinth or the Endelice.”

“Ah,” Mirian replied. It was a startling amount of honesty from a merchant. As she looked around the shelves, though, she could see that several of the objects behind the counter were of labyrinthine origin.

That itself, she realized, was important. She hadn’t been to the Labyrinth yet.

But she had dreamed it. And the large stone block behind the counter, the strange formation of multicolored pseudopipes, and the wall fragment overgrown with prismatic fungus that was beneath a glass globe—she’d seen them all before in her dreams.

“That’s my plan. To go down into the Labyrinth. I need to find artifacts with magical properties. Things on the edge of human understanding. Who’s a good person to talk to about that?”

Elsadorra used a thin glass pipe to put exactly five drops of wax on each piece of paper, then stamped it with her signet, then washed her signet ring and the glass pipe in a basin. “The Torrviol Academy Expedition is doing research you would be interested in, but they don’t take recruits. You might be able to pay them for their notes. Aelius heads the Ennecus Group looking to go to the lower levels. There are two other groups, but they stick to the first level of the Labyrinth. Caution is not overly lucrative, but neither has lost any members in three full years.”

“Thanks,” Mirian said. “I’m Niluri, by the way. It’s good to meet you.” She held out her hand to shake.

“I will remember your name,” Elsadorra said, and didn’t even look at Mirian’s extended hand. “Goodbye.”

Mirian dropped her hand and walked out the door, feeling only a little awkward. When she glanced back, she could see Elsadorra’s shoulders relax as she crossed the threshold. Not a people person, Mirian thought. She could sympathize.

She sold the heart, mostly because the cryoblood was starting to seep through her bag, then stocked up on materials for the experiments she was planning. Once her room had a functional workshop, she went off to find Beatrice’s research team.

It turned out they liked to chat and eat at the local taverns. There were only two taverns in the village, which made searching them quite easy: End of Civilization (which due to a pun in Friian, also meant ‘no civilization’) and Lager Then Life. There was also a restaurant on the adjacent block called A Mazing Eats, so clearly the town was run by very funny people.

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Beatrice’s group ended up being at Lager Then Life, which had an old fashioned fire running in an actual fireplace. Well, there’s certainly enough trees up north.

It took everything for Mirian not to run up to Beatrice with a smile on her face. She wanted to. She’d always liked Lily’s sister, but she wasn’t wearing her real face, and she needed to be cautious. Instead, she walked up and said, “Mind if I join you?”

“Yes,” said Beatrice instantly, as her two companions said, “Not at all.”

“Beatrice,” said the first man, sighing. He was a large man with dark hair and a well-trimmed beard.

“People only ask that before they start annoying us and end the conversation with a bad deal,” Beatrice protested.

“Go ahead,” said the second man, who was larger than the first and had a warhammer that was leaning up against the wall near him. The way he carried himself, she had no doubt he knew how to use it. Unlike his companion, his dirty blond beard was as wild as the north forests.

Mirian sat. What she wanted to say was, ‘hey Beatrice, good to see you too,’ but she restrained herself.

Beatrice rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

“Niluri. New in town, but you knew that. Elsadorra told me about your group. I’d like to learn more about what you’ve been doing and what you’ve discovered in the Labyrinth. I’m willing to pay.” She figured that was a good start.

“Great,” Beatrice said. “Let’s see the coin.”