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I turned slowly, trying to get my bearings among all the gray stone buildings. Dimly lit stores lined both sides of the streets, broken by winding alleys I could only assume hid seedy black-market dealings.

The lyphos streetlamp flickered above me, and I winced. I hated those things. Not the creatures, but the lamps themselves — a prison for living creatures who should be free in the wild, but were forced to light our dirty streets.

How anyone could see it as anything but abuse was beyond me.

If I had my way, every city in the Empire would be using steam lamps like in the Capital. They were far more effective, and they didn't give off that sad orange glow.

Hopping up on a nearby waste bin, I withdrew a few chunks of bread from my pack and stood on my toes to pull out the lamp's feeding tray at the base of the glass cage. The bread would be a veritable feast for the creature.

The orange glow brightened immediately, and I closed the tray, then hopped down. Hopefully, the creature didn't know it should be unhappy with its life. That little cage was probably all it had ever known, after all, and it was hard to be sad about a life or world you never knew existed.

Heavy lurching steps echoed behind me, and I turned to see a cloaked man emerge from an alley nearby. He tucked a paper bag into a leather satchel, then hurried down the street away from me.

I stared after him, instincts prickling. I'd hunted many uncollared mages in my time, and that man had all the signs.

But I wasn't here for him tonight.

That bag, though, was exactly what I was looking for. There was a chance it was just his dinner or something similarly innocuous, but in this area, it was likely something more.

Excited, I walked over and checked down the alley he'd come from. Sure enough, light spilled from a square window in one of the buildings, and a sign with the word "Aelchaemy" hung neatly beside a nearby door.

Kings be blessed.

I was due for some luck.

I made my way to the door, pausing outside to straighten my coat and smooth my hair. My size had always put people on edge, but since the witch cursed me, it was an even bigger issue. And looking disheveled seemed to make it worse.

Bells tinkled sharply overhead as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The pungent scents of hundreds of herbs assaulted me like a punch to the face.

What fresh kind of forsaken hell was this? I lifted my arm to my nose and looked around.

Shelves lined every wall, covered in amber colored glass carafes, baskets of herbs, and trays with what seemed like hundreds of vials.

"Can I help you, Sir?" a tall man with a full gray beard asked from behind the counter opposite me.

He measured out a pile of herbs and placed them into slim vials.

I tried to drop my arm, but my head pounded with all the conflicting scents, and my throat and nose burned as though they were on fire.

"Oh, I see. Sorry about that," the man said, eyes wide. "We don't see many of your kind around here. Let me light a damper real quick."

I stared, confused, as he lit a red candle on the shelf behind him and wafted the smoke in my direction with his hand.

The overwhelming smells immediately faded until they were almost imperceptible.

My jaw dropped. "What kind of candle is that?" I stepped closer. "And where can I get one?"

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his wide chest. "It's a damper, of course. Surely you've used one before. Your kind have them everywhere — when they deign to be around us non-magic folk, that is."

My brows knit together. Those candles did resemble the ones some mages carried. "Wait, what do you mean, my … kind? What exactly are you implying?"

"I — well," he stammered. He looked me up and down as his round cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "I apologize, Sir. I must be mistaken. I thought you were part of the uh — well —"

Heat burned in my abdomen, and my skin started with that now-familiar prickle. I should let go of trying to discover whatever he was about to say and focus on getting the potion … but my damn nerves wouldn't let me.

"Well? Out with it." I snarled, leaning forward so my hands rested atop the counter, growl rumbling in my chest.

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