From floor to ceiling, great blocks of ice were piled up against the walls. They twinkled an icy blue as they caught the light of the numerous table lamps. Still, there was something wrong about it all, she realized. The blocks were not melting. Nor did any water collect upon the dirt floor. Suddenly even colder, Satine pulled her cloak closer.
Reznik sat at a worktable in a far corner of the room. He wore magnifying spectacles and a woolen overcoat. He carefully examined a glass tube full of violet fluid, which Satine recognized immediately.
Hearing her approach, Reznik stopped whistling and looked up.
"Come in, come in!" he said enthusiastically. Uncoiling a little, Satine walked farther into the room.
Reznik came to greet her. After looking her up and down, he smiled.
"I expected you a bit sooner," he said slyly. "The sentry at the entrance to the tunnels sent a runner, telling me that you had finally arrived. It seemed to take you longer than usual to reach my home. There was no difficulty, I trust?"
He was toying with her, she knew. Reznik knew everything that went on in Valrenkium. If this place had a ringleader, it was he. If he hadn't been the one who had erased her marks at the intersections, he would certainly know who had.
But that was all right, she thought. After today she wouldn't need to play this vile bastard's games.
"No trouble," she said confidently. "I just took my time." Wanting to change the subject, she looked around the room. "I've never been down here. What is this place?"
"This is where I store my most precious ingredients," Reznik answered. "I keep it cold in here, so that the goods remain preserved."
Satine grimaced. She wasn't sure she wanted to know more, but her curiosity was getting the best of her. Table after table was covered with fluid-filled jars. Some contained what were clearly human body parts; others held colorful, grotesque items she could not identify.
"You use blocks of ice to accomplish this," she mused, forcing down her revulsion. "But where do you get them this time of the year? And why don't they melt?"
One corner of the herbmaster's mouth came up. "I am a partial adept, remember? My arts are organic in nature. They have to do with things of the earth, sea, and sky. For me, enchanting a few blocks of ice to remain frozen is but a small thing."
Satine looked down at the vial in his hand. "That's mine, isn't it?"
"Yes," he answered. "There are three more just like it. I believe this is the finest batch I have ever produced. I have also formulated a new enhancement for it that I am especially proud of."
She took the vial from him, walked it over to one of the tables, and held it before the light of an oil lamp. As usual, the nearly transparent fluid was a soft violet in color, but this time there were slight overtones of crimson that she had never seen in previous batches.
She didn't know much about Reznik's art, but she was intimately familiar with the formula she always purchased from him because her life depended upon it. That was why she had always insisted upon coming here to collect her goods, rather than buying them from a Valrenkian agent on the street.
She looked back at him. "You incorporated the derma-gnasher venom as usual?" she asked.
"Yes. It was fresh today."
"And the oil of encumbrance?" she asked. "That is vital."
"Of course."
"The organs you used, they came from a fresh, endowed suicide?"
"Yes," Reznik gloated. "I took them and the marrow the same day the body was delivered to me."
"Good," she answered. "You have also enchanted the fluid to immediately dissolve the delivery mechanism?"
"I assume that your methods will remain the same?"
"Yes."
"If that is the case, then you will be pleased," he answered. "As usual, the contents of one of the vials has been sweetened with honey."
Satine held the vial to the light again. She gave it a gentle shake. "What are these crimson clouds I see swirling in there?" she asked. "They were never present in my other purchases." She looked back at him with narrowed eyes. "I don't like surprises, Reznik."
"Ah," he said as he walked closer. He seemed quite pleased with himself. "That is the enhancement I told you of. Those clouds you see are a new form of preservative."
"How does it work?"
Reznik smiled. "Do you remember my once telling you that the bone marrow of a child is always red?"
She nodded.
"The marrow is red until adulthood. Then it turns yellow, signaling the end of its maturation process. The addition of the livelier red marrow will keep the fluid 'active,' so to speak, and it will therefore hold its potency longer. It was something of a breakthrough, if I don't mind saying so. I hope you are pleased."
She was, but she chose not to show it. "And the delivery systems?" she asked.
Reznik reached across the table, took up a small leather case, and handed it to her. She opened it and looked inside. As usual, all seemed to be in order.
"Well done," she said simply. "Is there anything else that I need to know?"
"Only that I wish you good hunting."
He went back to the worktable, gathered the other two vials, and gave them to her. Satine placed the three vials and the leather case into her cloak's specially sewn pockets, then retied the strings. They both turned and walked up the steps to the cottage above.
Satine opened one of the bulging saddlebags on the table. Several gold kisa spilled from it and rattled onto the tabletop. Reznik smiled.
"It's all there, I assume?" he asked politely.
"Of course," Satine answered. She pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. She was eager to leave. She wanted to be safely through the sandstone maze by nightfall.
"In that case our business is concluded," Reznik said. He gestured to a pot that sat upon another wood-burning stove. "Unless you would like to join me in a bowl of bone soup?" he offered. "I made it fresh this morning. Some company would be welcome."
Satine felt her stomach turn over. She couldn't imagine eating anything in this place, much less wanting to know what kind of creature the bones had come from.
"Uh, er, no-no, thank you," she answered stiffly. "I need to be going."
"Suit yourself," the herbmaster said. Sitting down, he took up a broad soup ladle. He gave her another look.
"Goodbye, Satine," he said. "Until next time."
"Goodbye," she answered.
Walking out the door, she climbed upon her gelding and wheeled him around to begin her journey back. She took a final look at the brick cottage that held so many awful secrets.
And good riddance, she thought.
Prodding her horse forward, the Gray Fox began her ride back through the winding streets of Valrenkium.
CHAPTER XVIII
Saddened and angered by what he saw, Tristan walked slowly among the wounded still filling the palace courtyard. The Orb of the Vigors had done this, and it infuriated him to be waiting here rather than taking some kind of action to stop it.
The sun had just started to set over the western wall of the palace. The songbirds had quieted, and the turquoise of the sky had slowly faded into the deeper indigo of evening. The stars and moons would be out soon, and with them would come the comforting chirps of the night creatures.
All about him, torches were lit, their soft glow throwing shadows across the walls and grounds. Minion healers continued to work hard tending the wounded. He had walked by Duvessa only moments ago, and they had nodded to each other. Her white cutter's smock had been covered with blood.