Jack woke with an aching body after a few hours of restless sleep. The combination of being awakened by a nightmare, exercise, and a mattress-free bed left him achy and tender.

  “Another day and my mattress will at last be dry,” he complained, his body deflating as he remembered that the cruel nightmares hadn’t ended. “How do I break this curse of bad dreams?” Everyone he cared about was alive and well, and he still had his scribe class and skills. “I shouldn’t be haunted by nightmares any longer. I’m happy.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he was happy. Stretching his stiff body and rubbing his tired eyes, he looked at the time. It was just gone six in the morning. “I’ll get a few more scrolls done, then go bow shopping.”

  He headed to his study area to work with the plan to create enough spell scrolls to sell so he’d have enough coin for a good-quality starter bow. “Today’s the day I become a real archer,” he whispered. Another chronos sphere spell scroll first, though, he thought while activating his Inscribe Spell skill and putting pen to paper.

  Just over four hours later, he’d had an awkward breakfast with his parents and had crafted three more spell scrolls. On the other hand, Polly hadn’t woken up until almost nine and hadn’t left the house until ten. As soon as she left, Jack was again sneaking into her empty room to borrow the valet costume.

  He glanced at her unmade bed and nightwear discarded on the floor. “She does nothing but sleep,” he mumbled, unimpressed with her messy room.

  Having retrieved his disguise, he headed into Lundun to do some shopping for scribe supplies. At least that’s what he’d told his mother.

  Jack once again donned the valet costume in an alleyway and visited the Barker and Harker Spell Scroll Shop. He entered the shop to the same soft chime of a bell overhead and saw that the old shopkeeper was tending the counter.

  Though the shop was busy, the old shopkeeper wasn’t serving a customer. “Good day, young man. How is your young master doing these days?” the old man said with a smile as he noticed Jack enter the shop.

  “Good morning.” He emptied his pack of scrolls on the counter. “My master is doing fine and was very happy with the agreement. He has produced more scrolls.” Jack crossed his fingers. Don’t ask me about the chronos sphere scrolls.

  The old shopkeeper adjusted his glasses and flicked through the small pile of scrolls. “As expected, this is good work again,” he said while nodding. “Your master is a talented young scribe.”

  Jack smiled at the compliment. “Yes. He’s working very hard to level.”

  “Hmm, hmm,” the old man replied as he sorted the scrolls. “We’ll take all of these… That’s seven chronos sphere, three fireballs and three frost breath unimbued spell scrolls for 64 silvers.” He smiled and pointed to the stack of chronos sphere spell scrolls. “We don’t have many scribes capable of this scroll. We run out frequently.” He looked at Jack over his glasses. “Please inform your master that we will purchase all the chronos sphere scrolls he can produce.” Shaking his head, he added, “Supply never meets demand.”

  That explained the high price for a relatively easy spell scroll. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. I was right, he doesn’t care where the scrolls came from. He smiled at the good news. “I’ll let my master know.”

  The old man passed Jack his payment. “Don’t forget, you’re entitled to a ten per cent discount on all items in the shop.” He gestured towards the scribe supplies. “Might I suggest a pack of high-quality pencils. We’ve had good feedback on their quality, and they are perfect for sketching wildlife. Your master might appreciate a pack.”

  Jack placed the silvers in his coin purse and nodded. “I was instructed to purchase some supplies today.”

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  He now had 89 silvers, more than enough for a bow, arrows, and scribe supplies. You can never have too many pencils, he thought. He’d taken to sketching wildlife in the forest while resting from training to assassinate Greaves. It made him feel closer to his late father, who loved to sketch animals and nature.

  The old man nodded in approval as Jack went to the display of scribe supplies.

  After a few minutes, he returned to the counter with a small pile of items. The shopkeeper totalled his purchase. “That’s forty medium-quality blank scrolls.” He tapped the pile of blank scrolls with an arthritic finger. “Hmm… a good choice, a very good choice. Although you could use lower-quality scrolls, this is preferable. Many noble houses won’t purchase spell scrolls on lower-quality material.” He went back to calculating the price of what Jack was buying. “A pack of high-quality pencils,” the old man was smiling like a Cheshire cat at the upsell. “And two pots of medium-quality scribe ink. That will be 10 silvers before the discount, so 9 silvers, young man.”

  Jack nodded and paid the shopkeeper. He could have gone for the cheaper blank scrolls and ink, but he knew from experience that it was more enjoyable to work with higher-quality materials. Plus, the cost was only a couple of coppers extra per scroll.

  After exiting the shop and retrieving his normal clothes, he started scouring the merchant’s stalls and shops for a suitable bow and arrows. He had 80 silvers to buy what he needed.

  ***

  “You can’t be serious?” The young weapons merchant complained while shaking his head in disbelief. “53 silvers for such a beautiful work of art would be daylight robbery. It would be worth several golds if it weren’t for stains.” He pointed at the bloodstained, white oak bow in Jack’s hands. “It has all the standard runes, and look at the intricate, detailed carvings. A true artisan made the weapon.”

  Jack was standing in front of a small stall, negotiating down the price of a bow that would more than meet his needs. The merchant wanted 90 silvers for the weapon, a dozen basic arrows, and a cheap quiver. He grinned. “It’s covered in ugly blood splatters.” He didn’t care if the bow was stained. It was a good quality bow that would last him until he reached level 25. “Good luck selling it to someone else. 53 silvers is a fair price.” He put the bow down and turned around to leave.

  The teenage merchant scoffed. “I can go as low as 80 silvers, but that’s it.” He mumbled something about his grandfather under his breath.

  Jack paused. That would empty my coin purse. He thought back to the Arman wrap incident. I won’t make that mistake again. He glanced back at the young man, who he guessed was a Novice Merchant. “Still too much.” He took a step away from the stall. “I’m sure I can find a better deal elsewhere.”

  “Fine.” The merchant sighed. “75 silvers is my limit. I cannot go lower, my grandfather would be furious and string me up by…” he trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

  Jack spun on his heels towards the dejected young man. “That’s a bit better…” He’d have 5 silvers left, more than enough to visit Arman. His mouth began to water at the thought of one of his sumptuous wraps. He could always earn more coin selling spell scrolls. “70 silvers sounds even better, though.” He decided to push his luck.

  The young merchant raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. “75 silvers is my limit.” It was clear it was the lowest he’d go.

  Jack smiled. “Good doing business with you.”

  While claiming his payment, the young merchant scoffed.

  With his new bow and arrows, Jack headed towards Royal Library Square with a big smile as he thought about buying a couple of wraps from Arman. At 15 coppers each, he could buy a couple of dozen and still have change left over.

  As he approached The Square, he remembered he was carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows. I shouldn’t let Arman see me with weapons. He might discuss it with Dad. He thought about heading home to hide the bow, which reminded him he hadn’t thought of a good hiding place yet. Damn it, he’s probably already noticed the dagger. He gripped the weapon’s handle. “I really need to get better at subterfuge.”

  Jack paused to think. Could I convince Mom that I’ve taken up archery as a hobby?

  If he could, it would solve most of his problems. Although his parents didn’t carry weapons, it wasn’t unusual for white-collar workers to take up a weapon; the Kingdom had a plethora of dangers, from goblins to bandits.

  He looked at the bloodstained bow. The blood splatters stood out on the white oak. That’s going to be a problem. His mother wouldn’t be happy with a bow that’s covered in blood. I could sand it off… but that would damage the runes.

  Jack continued walking towards Arman’s stall. I can’t afford to hide my archery practice. It would hamper his levelling speed if he had to keep it secret. He decided not to hide the bow and instead say he bought it on a whim to help with his new fitness obsession.

  “Damn it, I forgot all about exercising again,” he muttered and mused if his Perfect Recall skill was broken. It wasn’t. Though the skill allowed him to remember anything he’d seen written down, it still required him to think about the scroll, book or piece of paper to recall what was written on it.