CHAPTER 69: 69: THE STRANGER RETURNS XI

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"Two blades," Gael said when he saw John. "Custom grip. We will need leather for a noble’s soft hand. The ore is packed. If the rain holds, I will send it at first light."

"Good," John said. "Set a lock on the back room. The Spitter stays in the house until I fix the feed line."

Sera leaned one shoulder against a post. "I heard you held firm on the price."

"I did."

"Good," she said. "You looked like a man with clean boots and many secrets."

Fizz put both paws to his mouth and made a sound like a trumpet. "Victory. Someone noticed the penmanship."

John looked at Sera. "Thank you for not saying I smell like bark."

She smiled with only half her mouth, which was all she needed. "You smell like a forge that belongs to you. That is not a bad smell."

Fizz winked at John so hard he nearly fell out of the air. John ignored him and walked to the tool bench. He picked up the ledger and a stub of pencil and opened to a clean page. He drew a rectangle and then a second inside it. Walls meant comfort. He began to label corners in neat, careful letters.

"Lab design," Gael said with a pleased grunt. "I will have the boys clear the old store room by the north wall. It is strong and does not leak."

"I want two doors," John said. "One you can see and one you cannot."

Gael nodded as if John had asked for nails. "We will do it."

Sera pushed off the post. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

"Yes," John said. Then he looked up and corrected. "Please."

She left without a word. Fizz floated down and peered at the page with an expression stolen from a schoolmaster.

"What is that square?" Fizz asked.

"Rune lattice," John said. "I want a field that holds steady even when the air outside shifts. If I can stabilize a charge at low cost, the Spitter will stop eating crystals like a drunk eats festivals."

Fizz nodded as if he absolutely understood every word. "Yes. Lattice. Stability. Fewer drunks."

John marked a circle and wrote a small note on it. "I will need a shielded cell for things that hum when they should not. A sand pit for thermal tests. A drain cut straight to the gutter in case I create a mess I do not want to explain."

Fizz stage whispered. "He means blood."

"I mean everything," John said. "Ink. Acid. Blood. Melted pride."

Sera returned with a clay pot and three cups from the temple. She set them on a cleared space, poured carefully, and blew across the steam. She handed John the first cup and Gael the second. She did not pour one for Fizz.

Fizz looked aggrieved. "Do I not get tea?"

"You will complain that it is hot," Sera said. "And then you will blame me when you fail to sip with a small mouth. You will make a mess and blame me for burning you."

Fizz lifted his chin. "I can sip with my mouth. I am not a child who will make a mess. Take that back, otherwise get ready for a bite from Lord Fizz."

"Alright... alright... I am sorry. Don’t bite me. I was joking." she said. "Here is your tea. Sip with your patience, don’t burn your tongue."

"Apology accepted! As a punishment for that lame joke, give me ten spoonfuls of sugar. I like sweets." Fizz responded.

Meanwhile, John lifted and held the cup between both hands for a moment and let the warmth run into his fingers. He did not raise it immediately. He let the scent tell him a story first. It smelled like leaf and smoke and a faint edge of citrus. He took a small mouthful and rolled it on his tongue.

"Thank you for the tea. Sera!"

Sera watched him for a second longer than necessary. "You are welcome."

Gael picked up the pencil, wrote a number beside John’s square, and put the pencil back without asking. No one would complain to Gael about that. He had the hands of a man who worked years in mine.

"You will need a ceiling rack," Gael said. "Something that slides. Chains for heavy pieces. A pulley saved my back three times last winter. I like my back."

"I like your back too," Fizz said. "It keeps your front from falling over. You can bend and vow to me."

Gael rubbed his beard to hide a smile and failed. John drew a line across the rectangle and marked it with small crosses.

Sera sipped and leaned her hip into the table. "If you want glass work in that room, speak now. I can talk to a glazier. It is better to order before harvest when he still pretends to be cheap."

"I will need glass," John said. "Thick. I do not want it to cry if a curse looks at it."

Sera nodded. "I will handle it."

Fizz looked between them and nodded solemnly. "The way you two talk about a room makes me think of wedding vows. Are you in love with each other? Is it your wedding room?"

Sera did not blush. She did that rare and dangerous thing. She smiled at Fizz as if he were clever.

John coughed and said, "Fizz, stop joking."

After that he drank the rest of his tea and put the cup down. "Gael, assign one man to shadow the yard tonight. I want a quiet walk around the fence every hour. Do not be seen. If he is seen, tell him to wave like a lazy guard and then look bored."

Gael’s face grew thoughtful. "You think the merchant will turn back."

"I think the merchant knows faces," John said. "And I think faces know tongues. Someone might try to rob us. I don’t trust those greedy people."

Gael nodded once. "We will be ready. If there is noise I will make it louder."