Most people in Eutracia regarded the rumors about Valrenkium and the Corporeals to be nothing more than myths, grown stronger over time and embellished even further by the return of the Coven of Sorceresses. But Satine knew differently.
Walking deeper into the village, Satine finally began to hear the screams, and the telltale odor wafted to her nose. Steeling herself, she hurried on to Reznik's cottage. Tying her horse to a rail, she looked around warily before untying the two heavy saddlebags she had brought with her. She slung them over her shoulder and walked to the door, which she opened without knocking. The familiar interior of the cottage yawned before her. She pushed the door closed with one boot.
Reznik was nowhere to be seen. She walked to a nearby table and put the saddlebags down.
The place had changed little since her last visit: a mishmash of tables, beakers, books, scrolls, and other items of the craft. An adjoining room served as the library, its walls lined with overflowing bookcases. Beyond that lay an atrium, the sunlight streaming in through its glass ceiling and down onto the various plants of the craft the herbmaster cultivated. The herbs gave the cottage an earthy smell, belying the cruel work that went on here.
Satine saw the open trapdoor in the center of the floor. She walked over to it and looked down.
Soft light flickered on the wooden steps. The clink of glass could be heard, as well as someone whistling contentedly. As she stood there wondering what to do, cool air wafted up the steps to greet her.
Finally making up her mind, she reached beneath her cloak and placed her palms upon two of her dagger handles. All of her senses alert, she started down.
Satine had never been down here before. In fact, she hadn't known this room existed. The chamber belowground was larger than the house above it. It was cold here-far colder than it should have been for this time of year. Looking around, she could see why.
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.