Chapter 100
Hurian the Fat Old Man
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The alley was pitch black . The two sides crawled out of the darkness like black hands reaching for the heavens out of the eternal abyss . The sheer sides of the two-story buildings lining either side stopped what little light the moon might have offered, and the eves criss-crossed the sky like the thick canopy of a graveyard forest . The floor was damp and muddy, and Claude's steps sloshed in more than just water and mud as he slid deeper into its darkness .
The four figures had vanished as he stepped into the alley and now only their footprints remained . Puddles formed inside, hiding the excrement squashed beneath .
The alleyway stretched into a winding eternity . He'd walked down it for ten minutes now and yet he'd not found its end, nor any suggestion he might anytime soon . There were no signs, no lit windows, no open doors to tell him where the magic black market might be .
He wondered if he should have come during the day . There was no doing that now, however, so he kept walking, perking his ears to listen for any sloshing besides that of his own feet . The slums were dangerous, far more so than he had let himself admit before he'd come . He was not very concerned about being ambushed, however . His hearing was exceptional; he would have heard someone coming even without the water to louden their footfalls .
He heard nothing .
He passed a right-angled elbow in the alley five minutes later, and suddenly found himself bathed in a faint light .
He took several deep breaths, gathering his nerve, then continued on . His eyes adjusted and he saw a familiar scene, a scene he'd definitely seen before . He could not place it no matter how hard he tried, however .
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Two alleyways intersected about twenty metres ahead of him . They formed a small clearing in the forest of buildings in the middle of which stood an old mulberry tree . A couple of worse-for-wear sheds stood beneath its canopy .
A lantern hung by the door of each, and a few people sat around a long table between the two . The table was lit by a single oil lamp and a brazier . Fish hung in the air, competing with black ale .
His mind jerked at him, desperately trying to rediscover the memory of this place as his feet carried him towards the clearing . The lively, if subdued, conversation over the table died down as he approached . Everyone's eyes glinted at him alertly . He was not surprised by their glares . He was not the least bit suspicious in his getup . He ignored them, however, and marched on, his eyes fixed on the mulberry tree which towered over everyone present, even the two-story buildings forming the clearing's border . His mind finally got hold of the memory and shoved it into his awareness .
That's it! Eriksson had brought him here a while back, but they'd arrived at the clearing through one of the other four alleys . The sheds hadn't been there that time . It had been just the tree . They had gone there to buy his favourite malt candy . They bought it from that new shop by . . . what was his name . . . Hurian!
His shop had not been the sheds he saw under the mulberry tree now though . His had been one of the shops looking out into the clearing . He'd also come here once to buy candy for his little brother and sister . He'd come during the day, of course .
Hurian's shop was still there, but it was clearly closed . Only a single lamp hung by the entrance and was the shop's only present illumination . Behind it '17 Flowerstone Alley' was carved into the wall .
So the letter had been right . Hurian's store really was the magic black market . He hadn't believed it when he saw the address written on the piece of paper . To think the old man was a magus as well . . .
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"Is anybody here?" he asked, his voice purposefully hoarse, as he knocked on the door .
The shop remained dead quiet . Someone from the clearing responded instead .
"Need anything?"
Claude turned around and saw a fat man stepping out of the sheds . It took him a moment to recognise the man as Hurian in the dim light .
He knew the man as a warm person with a perpetual smile plastered on his face . That smile was gone and his persona was suspicious of Claude . He regarded him apprehensively .
"For what are you here?
"I heard you have certain . . . exotic items," Claude answered .
He regretted not asking Maria if there were any secret phrases, but it was too late for that now .
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Hurian entered the shop without a word, lit a small oil lamp inside, and motioned for Claude to follow as he walked deeper into the shop .
"What do you want?" the man asked once he was behind his desk .
"Something special . Some might even say magical," he said conspiratorially and Hurian's eyebrows rose .
"Magic crystals, to be specific," Claude said after he saw the man's reaction .
"And what makes you think my little joint sells that? Come, cast a spell for me so I can see if you're a magus . "
"Here?"
"Where else?"
Well . . . what should he cast? He certainly couldn't use any of the spells he'd engraved in his hexagram . Maybe one of Maria's eight . He couldn't do Appraisal or Submerged Breathing . The point was for Hurian to see the spell, so they were useless . Luminous Pearl was too eye-catching, so that one was out as well . Wind Barrier wasn't appropriate either . Chill needed a liquid medium, and he saw no cup or jar or jug of water in the shop . He didn't want to cast Hydrogenation either; it used too much mana .
He made up his mind and snapped his fingers . A small flame burst into life like one of his old world lighters had been struck .
He was very glad he'd brought his tome . He'd have been in a bit of a bind, otherwise . Hurian gazed at the flame intently for several long moments, then pinched it out of existence with a wetted thumb and forefinger .
"Come with me," his voice echoed as if from nowhere as he walked to a small door nearby and opened it, "In . "
Claude followed obediently . The room was pitch black . The door clicked shut behind him and he could see nothing for a moment, then a bright light flashed into being and blinded him . He squinted instinctively, then his eyes slowly started adjusting .
The room was windowless, with bare stone walls . The door behind him and Hurian was the only interruption to the stone of the ceiling, walls, and floor . The roof was a vaulted ceiling, curving in to the middle in gentle arcs which terminated in a round hole which vanished further upward .
Three wooden shelves stood along three of the walls, the only furniture in the room . The shelves, too, were familiar to him . Were they not Wakri's? Their contents were not his, however . Claude's eye glinted as Eye of Appraisal activated .
The room lit up with colour the moment it did, so much so Claude flinched .
"So, how did you know?" the old man asked, smiling, satisfied with Claude's reaction .