Without appearing like he was in a hurry, Lucas raced down the stairs and welcomed Heisenburgle into his gilded cage curtly but courteously. "You're in better shape than I thought you'd be after what happened," the gnome admitted as Lucas bent over to shake his hand.

"Well, I'm a hard man to kill," Lucas answered brusquely.

The gnome stiffened at the word kill and said, "Perhaps it would be better if we chatted in private."

"Right this way then," Lucas agreed, noting that Heisenburgle didn't so much as look at the beautiful women that were nearly twice as tall as he was.

He really only has eyes for alchemy, Lucas told himself as they walked. Even as he attempted to escape the maids and speak in private, Mirin insisted on accompanying them. Whether she was being clingy or simply trying to spy on them, he really couldn't say.

"Right this way, your lordship," she said amiably. Lucas had no idea if Hisenburgle was actually a lord, but he also doubted this was the first time the gnome had been to the Prince's little love nest based on the way he was acting.

Before their conversation could progress beyond pleasantries, they had to endure a full tea service. That took several minutes, and though the tea wasn't drugged, Lucas didn't plan on having any. This was not a social call.

Each time he tried to shoo her away, he was met with a response like, "Nonsense, not with a guest this important," or "The head maid would have me skinned if I didn't treat Lord Heisenburgle with all the courtesy he's due!"

The gnome seemed resigned to the whole thing and took it much better than Lucas did. He simply sat there patiently and twiddled his thumbs while she carried on.

After several minutes of fussing over the two of them and leaving them with half a dozen small pastries and two steaming cups, the blonde maid finally departed. That was when the gnome began to fling his glitter dust around the room in the search for invisible spies and minders; for once, he didn't even mock the gnome. He just waited with bated breath to see if he would find someone.

The gnome didn't find any people hiding in the corners or under the desk. What he did find, though, was a paperweight that made the dust on it glow faintly. Lucas didn't even know that shit could do that and vowed to mix some up himself just in case he ever needed to see if someone had boobytrapped his rooms. The gnome didn't say a word. he just scowled and then set a cushion on top of the thing like he was muting a microphone.

When that was done, he moved to the far side of the room and said, "That should take care of that," in a very soft voice.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Lucas said, skipping any outpouring of gratitude they'd both regret. "I—"

"I almost didn't," Heisenburgle answered in a whisper. "I try not to entangle myself in matters where my liege has been displeased, and you, my unorthodox alchemist, have greatly displeased the great man. I'm still not certain—"

"That's bullshit," Lucas protested a little louder than he meant to. He lowered his voice and continued. "I didn't do anything. I didn't tell the crazy dragon lady about Danaria, and I certainly didn't—"

"You've done more than enough to get locked up here," Heisenburgle shot back, "Which tells me that the Prince is very troubled by your continued existence and not entirely sure what to do with you. Doubtless, if he didn't need you, you would be a lose end that was already tied up, but in this one thing, it would seem you've been blessed by the gods themselves."

Lucas didn't answer, both because he got the point, however unfair, and because he wasn't certain whether the gnome was hinting at things about the divine which he should know nothing about or if he was just getting uncomfortably close to the truth with a figure of speech.

Instead, the two glared at each other for the better part of a minute before the gnome said, "I don't know what you expect me to do about any of this… The Prince will keep you here until you are nice and malleable. After that? Well, who can say?"

"Is he already trying to replace me and make Blue without me?" Lucas asked.

"You know the answer to that," Heisenburgle answered with a crooked smile. "You also know that as much as it pains me to say it, I can't make what he wants me to make. Oh, I've tried, but it is too unorthodox for anyone but you, it would seem…"

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"I want you to tell him you think I'd be better off in your care," Lucas said, ignoring how humiliating that was. He might have known that the gnome was his warden this whole time, but admitting it made him feel like a chump. "Tell him… I don't know; tell him that Danaria's death is tearing me up, and you think I need to be able to throw myself into my work."

Lucas had thought that would work. He'd thought that the gnome would have jumped at the opportunity just to have someone to talk shop with again, but the man seemed cagier than usual. Normally, even when the two of them bickered, there was some joy in the old gnome's rage, but today, he only seemed brittle and tired. That was a bad sign and enough to make Lucas worry that he was in deeper shit than he thought.

"I told you," Hisenburgle repeated slowly as if Lucas had some sort of learning disability. "Not. My. Problem. I make it a point not to cross my patron. That goes double when dragons are involved. I did try to warn you. Don't forget that. I told you that woman was a monster on several occasions. There's nothing in this world that could…"

"What if there was, though?" Lucas interrupted, grasping at straws. "What if I uhmmm… Had a way for you to get what you really wanted."

"What I really wanted, huh?" the gnome asked skeptically. "What is it you think I really want?"

"To be an alchemist," Lucas answered quickly. In fact, he answered it too quickly, though he only realized that as he saw Heisenburgle's face begin to purple with rage. "Whoa, hold on there, that's not what I meant, and you know it. I meant that what you want most is for your talent to be alchemy, not smithing or—"

"Engineering," the gnome answered peevishly. "If I was merely a smith, I would have to do the honorable thing and drink myself to—"

"What if I said I knew a way to change that, maybe," Lucas answered, cutting him off.

"I'd say it's impossible," Heisenburgle scoffed. "The gods themselves determine talents at the moment of birth, according to their grand designs. They're the only ones that could ever do such a thing, and the enlightened, immortal Thrzealwick is not in the habit of taking petitions."

"What if I told you I've met the man, errr, gnome," Lucas answered, leaning in conspiratorially.

He hated giving that much away, of course, but really, more than anyone else, he needed to get Heisenburgle on board with his mad scheme. Lucas might know all there was to know about red dragons, but Heisenburgle was the one who had been spending years building tools and devising stratagems to kill her. While he had little interest in steam-powered jousting horses, some liquid-cooled anti-fire armor or something like that would definitely come in handy for what he wanted to do next.

They were powerful words, but they didn't seem to do much good. Instead of answering, the gnome took off his spectacles and started to clean them on his shirt. When he was finished, he said, "I understand that grieving is hard. I've been there myself, but you must be careful not to fall into the grip of madness, my friend."

"I'm not crazy!" Lucas said, too loud again. He repeated it the second time more softly. "I'm not fucking crazy. I'm not."

"Anyone who seeks to pit themselves against the Lord of this city is either very crazy or very stupid," the gnome said with a smirk. "And anyone who seeks revenge against Skylara… Well, not even the stupid would think of something so dumb."

"Who said I was after revenge?" Lucas said, giving the man a nondenial denial. "I just said I wanted out of here to—"

"What you want is clear to everyone, Lucas," Heisenburgle answered in a way that wasn't completely patronizing. It occurred to Lucas only belatedly that the smarmy gnome was actually trying to be sympathetic. "I expect the Prince knew from the first moment he sat down with you. That is why you are where you are. To calm down. Pity, I can not stay long. I do not wish for my lord to get the wrong idea about a man who claims to have—"

"I did!" Lucas hissed.

"What is that phrase you told me once?" the gnome answered. "Never get high on your alkalis, was it?"

Lucas opened his mouth to correct the prick, but he closed it again when the gnome started to walk away. When he reached the door, he stopped and said. "Just stay calm, enjoy all the comforts that wealth can provide, and when the Prince has made a decision about what to do with you, he'll let both of us know."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that when Danria is dead, asshole," Lucas growled, offended at the very idea.

"Grief is temporary," the gnome assured him as he stepped through the door and started to shut it behind him. "The Prince of Lordanin and his plans, though. That's forever. You might as well get used to it like everyone else."

Lucas fumed at that. For a moment, he almost picked up one of the teacups and threw it at the door, but he mastered the urge. Instead, he sat down, replaying the conversation in his head and wondering what he could have done to seal the deal instead of fumbling it.

"What the fuck am I going to do now?" he asked himself as he reviewed his list of dwindling options.

He'd already known that that Prince was unhappy with him, of course. All that Heisenburgle had done was confirm the degree. It was a small comfort that the man couldn't simply replace Lucas, but it was concerning that he would have considered that an option.

"Machiavellian motherfucker," Lucas complained loudly enough that he hoped the microphone, or whatever its magical equivalent, was picked it up.

You're really on your own now, buddy, he told himself. But that's pretty much par for the course, ain't it? It didn't matter. Even if he had to choke-stab that bitch in the middle of a ball with nothing but his trusty ring and a sharpened letter opener, he was going to do it, and no one, not Hisenburgle, not his very pretty guards, and certainly not the Prince was going to stop him.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.