28. Away

Master Glassmaker stayed true to her side of the deal, even going beyond its terms. She ignored the offer that Ifi made for the recipe for her "demon-killing poison", and counter-bid a sum more in line with what the High Table could truly afford. It was an arbitrary amount of money, so far beyond the terms in which Ifi was taught to think that it might as well stand for infinity. With a single stroke of a pen, she went from being an established guildswoman of modest means to a fabulousley wealthy exile.

A third of this fortune vanished almost immediately, after a visit at the Golem-Masons' Guild's offices. The dealer that presented the offer to Ifi expected protracted negotiations; the pile of glass he was offered instead made his eyes bulge, and all his doubts as to the nature of the order disappear like the morning mist. There could be no denying, however, that it was money well spent.

On the morning of the next day, a many-limbed crawler made its way to the front of Ifi's shuttering workshop. To call it a golem-carriage was to understall it; it was nothing short of a modest house on spindly steel legs, the alchemical furnace powering it belching black smoke into the air. It offered only a little less room than Ifi's old home, and more comforts for sure, its insides studded with enough charms to make a High City's apartment blush. The golem-masons outdid themselves, managing to fit even a small mobile laboratory inside; a far cry from the one Ifi was leaving behind, of course, but far more than she could have remotely hoped for.

From there, it was just a series of quick visits to more specialist kinds of services before she and Shard were ready to leave. At first, Ifi planned to pay her father a visit, but in the end, she just sent him his book back, and a small letter inside, to let him know that she had made it after all, and which alchemist would be best suited for taking over when it came to providing his medication. It would be a lie to say she didn't feel bad for it, but only a bit; and besides, with Shard's hand never far away from her neck, feeling bad in general seemed far-fetched.

Of course, she remained distinctly aware, even anxious, that this period of grace was not going to last forever; but such worries had never gotten her far in life, and trying to abandon them got her in love. So when she wrote instructions and punched them into the golem-brain, and Shard fired up the furnace, they left the city with no regrets, and no looking back.

Ahead of them, the road unspooled, stretching through endless fields of wheat and barley and towards the Northern Limit. Seated on the top of the crawler, Ifi watched enchanted as the mountains slowly came into view, rising on the horizon, until they loomed like a great, impassible wall. Hopefully, they would cross before the autumnal snows closed the passes and barred them from progressing beyond, into the wild unknown awaiting on the other side. But even if that was not to be, Ifi could only blush at the idea of a winter spent together with Shard, in the tight confines of their slowly-marching cabin, cut from the world, and having only each other for weeks or months on end.

A naive dream perhaps, but so very dear.

Later, she descended by the ladder back into the main cabin, where Shard lounged on a cushioned sofa, lulled to half-sleep by the crawler's gentle swaying. Sunlight filtered through the window and set her entire body aglow; though Ifi was slowly getting used to the sight, it still took her breath away with its beauty, not to mention the warm pride it fostered.

One more thing waited for the alchemist inside: a small box, delivered to the crawler the night before they left. She suspected who it was from, which is why she deferred from opening it immediately, a part of her continuing to worry that it could plant that awful seed, regret, in her mind. But, for the sake of clear conscience, it was finally time to take a peek inside.

For all the luxury of the crawler, some concessions had to be made for space; and so, the cage built into the floor—from strong, enchanted steel that could resist even a below-spawn's claw—had to double as a table, and a storage cabinet. Ifi reached inside and found the package, before locking the tabletop back inside, and dropping the box on the surface. Almost hesitantly, she undid the string holding it together, and opened the package up.

Inside, there was a familiar blue dress, and all the accessories that went with it. Ifi held them each in her hand, the memories their touch evoked so blissfully bittersweet. But inside the box, there was more than just possessions returned. At the bottom, there was another package wrapped in brown paper, and a small folded card.

Ifi spread it open and smiled. Worries of recriminations were misplaced.

"What is it?" Shard asked, stirring from her nap.

She tore the paper apart; metal glinted inside. As more of it came into view, Ifi felt a tug somewhere deep in her stomach.

"When did they even commission it?" she whispered, quiet awe creeping into her voice.

The craftsmanship could take the breath away; interlocking silver panels ringing a soft leather collar, displaying a dance of wasps and spiders chasing each other through dense foliage. The patter dazzled with complexity when close, but looking from farther away, it shimmered in countless little reflections. Even the buckle holding it closed was wrought in the shape of a twisting leaf. Ifi tried it on, feeling the panels close in as she tightened the strap; it would fit her neck as well as Shard's, always snug.

"How did they even know?" she wondered aloud, stunned in gratitude.

Shard shrugged lazily, reaching to take the collar away from her lover's hands.

"More importantly, who is wearing it tonight?"