“Y-you called for me, father?” Verith asked, opening the door to his study enough to see him and let him see her, but waiting to step into the room.
“I did. Come in, child.” He was facing the large window on the back wall, a pearlescent smoke - Theaynish poppy smoke, she knew - rising from where he sat, obscured by the back of his chair.
Verith stepped in and closed the door silently behind her. She could count on one hand the number of time she’d been in her father’s office.
“I plan to travel soon.”
“O-oh, do you need any help getting ready o-or . . ?” She relaxed somewhat, starting to run through the mental checklist of what to do.
“No.” Another puff of smoke rose from where he sat.
“I doubt I’ll return from this trip. And you are next in line, as I have . . .” A hint of bitterness crept into his voice. “. . . no direct descendents.”
“Oh,” was all Verith could manage.
“I leave in sixty days. I trust that I’ve prepared you well to lead House Brymoria for your lifespan.
“In that time, you will begin making decisions as the soon-to-be family head. Not all of them, but some.
“If I have not failed to teach you what you need to know, then nothing will go awry.”
She gave no audible answer. Verith was at a loss for words. Her hands slipped behind her back and began to twist one of her rings slowly.
Another wisp of that imported pearlescent smoke rose to the sky.
“You are dismissed, child.”
“What!?”
“I’m sorry, dyevooshka, but I cannot.”
“Well, why not?”
“They are too sharp! You will cut your fingers on the strings, I will not give a customer faulty product.”
Nico took a breath to calm herself.
She set her hands palms up on the counter to show the dwarven craftsman. “Do you see these calluses?”
That caught their attention. “I see them.”
“I’ve had them for years. Take a guess how I got them.”
They narrowed their eyes in focus, stroking their beard as they thought.
“I see none on the palm, not from a hammer or weapon . . .” They reached to examine the roughness of Nico’s hands, then stopped to make sure it was alright.
She gave the go-ahead, and the dwarf prodded and rubbed at her palms and fingers before deciding, “Not rough save for the fingertips, so not heat.”
Nico nodded. “I got them from just playing my instrument as it is. Gut strings, with some metal for lower pitches.”
That gave the shopkeeper pause.
“Pure metal strings will not cut my fingers, and if they do, I’ll scar or callus until they don’t.
“I’m paying for the strings, so give me the damn strings.”
The craftsman gave a hum of consideration, thought for a moment, then nodded.
“11 strings of varying thickness, fine dragonforged steel. 100 gold.”
The stoneborn sucked in a hissing breath of surprise. She knew it would be expensive - she’d been saving for dragonforged strings for the past two years - but this much?
“I only have 86 gold. I’ve . . . is there any other way I can pay off the rest?” Nico needed these strings. She was so close to completing it, this was all that was left.
“Hm.” The craftsman frowned.
“Please. I’ll do pretty much anything.”
“Well . . . you are the nekromant girl, no?”
Nico sighed. “I don’t do resurrections, I can’t do reincarnations, and I ask the ghosts first before using their bones or bodies, so if you’re trying to threaten me somehow-”
“No, no, you misunderstand. Bonesteel is perfect for enchanting, and it works better the more of the spirit is still . . . ah, what is tzyeplyatʲsya in the common tongue?”
She stared at them blankly for a good ten seconds before they realized she wouldn’t understand that. “Like, ah, holding to something tightly.”
“Clinging?” “Yes, thank you.” Nico nodded.
“Bonesteel is better for enchantment the more a spirit is still clinging to the bone, I’ve heard that with perfect bonesteel you can still hear the spirit.”
“Ah. I get it. I’ll see what I can do, I guess, but I make no guarantees they’ll make perfect bonesteel.”
“If you can bring me perfect bones, that is more than enough to pay for the strings, dyevooshka. You pay when they are ready, and I will assess the bones when you bring them.” The hand they extended made the deal a question.
Nico shook and accepted.
