“You’ve never seen one like this before?” I asked.

  “Uh… no,” Vasil answered.

  “I thought you knew all about these things.”

  “I thought I did, but now I’m questioning what else I might not know.”

  I took the runestone from him and examined it. The symbol was a simple triangle. “So you’re saying there are more runestones than you know. And there are probably even more combinations.”

  Vasil slowly nodded. “It does appear that way. We are taught all twenty existing runestones when we are young. This one though, is not on the list…”

  I sniffed the stone. They were stones enchanted with magic formulas, sealed with blessed or divine blood, right? I wondered what divine blood tasted like, or if it would give me hidden powers. Would it break the seal if I licked it? What would happen if the seal broke? If I licked a Steel runestone and the seal broke would I become indestructible?

  “Hecate, what are you doing?” Vasil asked.

  “Whuh?”

  “Why is your tongue out?”

  I pulled my tongue back and lowered the stone. “I wasn’t going to lick it or anything.”

  Vasil sat there and looked at me for a couple of seconds. “Why were you going to lick it?”

  “I wasn’t. But if I was, it might have been to see if it would break the seal and make me indestructible.”

  Vasil shook his head. “It’s sealed with divine blood. You can’t break the seal.”

  I gave him a face. “I don’t know, Vasil. You say that, but there appears to be a lot you don’t know. Maybe you’re just saying that so you can stay the only indestructible one around here.”

  I crouched down and poked him. “Trying to hog all the indestructibility, are we?”

  He scowled.

  “Oh!” I said. “Pretending to be the skrzat now, huh? That might fool Moryana, but that won’t fool me!”

  “Hey!” Moryana said. “I know he’s not a skrzat!”

  “I think you should lick it,” Phisto said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Of course the [Purveyor of Chaos] wanted me to lick it. Now I didn’t want to lick it anymore. I mean, I did still want to lick it, but I didn’t want to do what Phisto wanted me to do. Why’d he have to open his stupid mouth? If I licked it now he’d think I did it because he told me to.

  I looked at the stone, then at Phisto. He was grinning. I wanted to toss him a moutza so badly, but then he’d win. He grinned wider. That little bastard. How was I supposed to get myself out of this situation?

  I know, I’ll just change the subject.

  I cast [Artifact Index] on the unknown rune and read the information aloud.

  [Ice Runestone]

  Weapons: Freezes target for one second

  Gear: Cannot be frozen

  If Phisto was disappointed, he didn’t show it.

  "Ice," Vasil said thoughtfully. "That makes sense. A twenty-first runestone." He paused. "It's definitely good, but there's a problem."

  "What problem?" I asked.

  "If no one knows it exists, no one will know any combinations with it either. All the documented combinations use the twenty known runestones. This one? You'd have to experiment blindly to find what works."

  I raised a finger. “Or just find some books or scrolls with long lost combinations.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Or that. Which should be easy because no one has seen a runestone like that in hundreds of years. If ever.”

  I mock-gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth. “Vasil. Could it be… that you’re sassing me?”

  “Mm,” he said. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

  Was I sassy? I didn't think so. I was just direct and honest. Some people might call that sass, but they'd be wrong. I was simply stating facts. In a factual way. Just because some people don’t like hearing the truth doesn’t mean it’s sass. I expected someone of Vasil’s intelligence to know the difference.

  I shook my head in disappointment. “Why do you hate the truth, Vasil?”

  He looked confused. “Huh?”

  “Do you have a problem with FACTS?”

  “I don’t have a problem with facts. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  I spread my hands. “You need to embrace the truth, not hide from it. Why must you try to cover reality with the blanket of denial?”

  “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  I shook my head again. “Still in denial, I see. I’m not sassy.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “Okay.”

  I looked back at the rest of the crew for some confirmation, but everyone was just staring at me.

  “You sure showed him,” Phisto said.

  Glad Phisto was on my side again. All this excitement had also gotten me a little bit tired and hungry. In fact, I was so hungry I could swear I smelled meat roasting.

  I sniffed the air. I did smell meat roasting.

  "Anyone else smell that?" I asked.

  Everyone nodded.

  "Let's check out the kitchen," Kuba said, already standing up.

  The others followed him toward the smell. I stayed behind. "I'll catch up. Just need to put these away safely."

  Vasil gave me a nod and hopped after the group.

  I watched until they disappeared around the corner. Then I put the marble and all the runestones in my satchel. All, except the Steel one.

  As I held it in my hand I looked to see if everyone was really gone. It appeared they were. I looked at the runestone, then in the direction of the kitchen again. Still no one.

  Then I very quickly licked it before tossing it into my satchel.

  "Hah!" I heard Phisto laugh from somewhere down the hall.

  Little bastard.

  ***

  I walked into the kitchen and found everyone standing there. On the floor was a blanket, and spread across it were roasted meats and cooked potatoes.

  "Where did all this come from?" I asked.

  No one answered. Everyone just looked confused.

  Then I spotted the skrzat sitting in the hearth, right in the middle of the flames, scowling at us. He didn't seem to mind the fire at all. Was that where he lived? He was supposed to be a household spirit, right?

  I pointed at the food. "Did you do this?"

  I waited for a couple of seconds, thinking maybe he’d say something, but instead he just sat there in the flames with his arms folded, scowling. I wondered if maybe he wasn't angry. Maybe that was just his face.

  If this was what household spirits did—cook entire meals without being asked—I could see why people would want to live with them. Even if they were perpetually grumpy-looking little naked guys who sat in fires.

  "Well," I said. "Thank you."

  He scowled harder.

  I slowly turned away from him. “Alright then.”

  Kuba had already started eating. I guess he wasn’t worried about being poisoned by mystery food. I didn’t say anything, but leaned a bit closer to look for any signs that he might be dying.

  “Why are you staring at him like that?” Moryana asked.

  “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just waiting for him to die.”

  Kuba froze mid-chew and looked at me with wide eyes.

  I waved him off. “I’m sure you’re fine.”

  He swallowed, looked down at the juicy piece of meat in his hand, then shrugged and kept eating.

  “I guess it’s safe,” I said, grabbing a piece for myself and sitting down next to Kasia. “You’re seventeen, right? How are you going to get a class now that you can’t exactly show up to the Class Selection Ceremony? What with the whole ‘enemy of the state’ thing.”

  She looked puzzled. “Class Selection Ceremony?”

  “Yeah, you know, when you select your class.”

  “There is no ceremony,” Vasil said. “You just choose at home, usually with family around.”

  “Huh,” I said. “That’s odd. We have a big ceremony once a year where everyone who turned eighteen before that date gets to select a class. It’s in the amphitheater, and the whole city shows up.”

  “Seems impractical,” Kuba said with his mouth full.

  I thought about it, and yeah, actually. Super impractical. Why did we have to stand in front of a million people while they got to choose in the comfort of their own home? Without creepy oracles blowing smoke in their faces (I hoped).

  “So you still get a class even if Stvora hates you?” I asked.

  Kasia stiffened.

  “Not that he probably hates you, of course,” I quickly added.

  “Everyone gets a class,” Vasil said. “There has never been anyone who turned eighteen who didn’t get a class.”

  I put a hand on Kasia’s shoulder. “That must be comforting for you then. What class do you think you’ll get? I hope not [Carpenter] like Kuba.”

  “Hey!” Kuba said.

  Kasia looked down. “I… I don’t know.”

  “What would you want to get then?”

  She looked up at me with a faint smile. “I’d like to be like you.”

  I nodded. “Oh. Yeah, I get that. [Gunwitch] is a super cool class, but it was made just for me. I’m the only one. I wouldn’t get your hopes up, especially since Stvora doesn’t seem to be a fan of witch classes… or me. And these pistols were made by my father. I doubt the weaponsmiths in Silesia are as good as him. He’s pretty much the best in the world, you know.”

  Kasia let out a small laugh. “I meant strong. So no one can hurt me or the people I care about.”

  “Oh.” I paused. “Right. Well, then you probably want to specialize in defensive magic… or something that blows everyone up before they can even think about hurting you. You know. Kind of like I do.”

  She gave a nod. “Mmhm.”

  “So when do you turn eighteen?”

  “In a couple of months.”

  I smiled. “You’ll probably get something cool. Unlike [Carpenter].”

  “Hey!” Kuba protested.

  Patreon :)

  Discord and would love to see you there!