Arz sat in front of Sal’s main tank with a bowl in his lap. He had never felt particularly evil before, but there was something villainous about holding a bowl of small fish with the intention of feeding them to an eel.

  Orikori stood at the lectern, using a stool, while recording recent events into Arz’s tome. He had been trying to keep the tome accurate to Arz’s experience, while his notes for the Guild were more general.

  Arz hadn’t had a chance to review the notes, so he wasn’t sure if Orikori was successful or not. Either way, he appreciated the help.

  “Watch this,” he said as he grabbed a small goldfish by the tail. It flailed as he lifted over the tank and dropped it in. It splashed and swam away.

  “Exciting.”

  “You weren’t watching.”

  Orikori shrugged and kept writing. He hadn’t even bothered to look up once.

  “I thought Sal would snap it out of the air.”

  “How is Sal still alive?”

  Arz poured the whole bowl into the tank. “I would throw old food scraps in there. Apparently it was working well enough. This is probably better though.”

  He winced as he stood. None of his injuries were particularly painful, but there were spots on his skin that had blistered badly from the intense volcanic heat.

  Sal swam after one of the goldfish and ate it in one swift bite.

  Arz pointed. “Did you see that?”

  “No.”

  Arz scoffed and walked around the study. He stepped over the inactive AZ and poked it a few times with his foot, just to ensure it was still dead. He briefly looked over Orikori’s shoulder to see the neat handwriting of the scribe as he quickly filled the page.

  Arz ambled around until he ended up at the ingredients table. A huge container of red oil sat right in the center. Originally, he had set it near the edge, but Khoribin had insisted he needed to be safer with it. Arz did agree, but he didn’t want the guard to know it was so easy to convince him, so he had argued. Accessibility over safety.

  Now that he had created a portal to Mount Parikus, he needed to find a way to open one to the market of Bralincote. Then he would never have to use stairs again. It was an exciting prospect.

  Arz had returned from Mount Parikus days ago, but wasn’t sure what to do. The obvious answer was to try to find a new recipe. But how?

  “Any ideas for portals?” Arz asked.

  “Hm?” Orikori actually looked up from the tome.

  “What else can I use? I need to find a new planet.”

  Orikori glanced back at the tome. “Let me finish my notes, then I will review your previous experiments and see what I can put together.”

  Arz nodded. What was he supposed to do while he waited? Khoribin and Isilhorn were visiting Alzidius, who was out of the hospital. Arz had given some other red oil to Isilhorn, asking him to sell it. They had argued over a conflict of interest, but Arz still insisted that it was perfectly normal for Isilhorn to sell red oil. There was no problem. He had collected it himself, after all. At least, that’s what Arz had made Orikori write.

  Just a few vials had gotten Isilhorn enough money to move his mother out of Valor Street. And with the Parikus portal, it would be even easier to acquire. Arz just didn’t want to flood the market at the moment.

  “The Wiz—” Orikori stopped himself and looked at Arz with a scowl. “The Guild was speaking about Staiweth. Apparently you are becoming well known.”

  Arz shrugged. “No harm in people knowing who I am.”

  “The Guild told the council about your encounter with the Emperor. They have refused to believe it.”

  “Good. Why is Jaralath telling everyone about my secrets?”

  “He believes some infamy could help you.”

  Arz narrowed his eyes. “Infamy? Me?”

  “You are rebellious, Master.”

  Arz gasped. “No.”

  Orikori nodded and continued writing in the tome.

  “Say it isn’t so.”

  Orikori ignored him.

  “Fine.”

  Orikori finally set his pen down and leaned on the lectern. “Despite my better instincts, I have purchased a gift for you.”

  “Ooh.” Arz squinted at Orikori. “Wait, is this a real gift?”

  Orikori reached under the lectern, beside the little container for Sal, and pulled out a leather belt. “This has spots here,” he said, pointing to small loops on the side, “specifically for vials that you can quickly reach. Something like your molten silver or a return potion, should you need it.” Orikori held the belt with both hands sideways. “This pocket is also bigger than your previous one. It will hold half a dozen vials, or a few bigger bottles. I found your old one a little lacking.”

  Arz grinned. “I couldn’t agree with you more.” He approached and took the belt, taking time to fasten it around his waist. “This even fits better.”

  “I took your measurements.”

  Arz scowled. “You did what?”

  The study door flew open, smashing against the far wall. “Master Kurana!” A guard with sweat pouring down his face stood in the door. His eyes were wide and he didn’t even seem sorry about intruding or slamming the door.

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  “What is it?”

  “A portal has opened in your home!”

  “My home?” Arz looked at Orikori, who watched the guard through narrowed eyes.

  “Your old home, sir.”

  Arz’s breath caught. His stomach knotted and his head buzzed. For a moment, Arz thought he was going to faint.

  “The Wizards sent me immediately. Please hurry!” The guard waved him on and ran back out.

  “Are you going?” Orikori asked. The scribe had appeared at Arz’s side.

  “Of course. It’s dangerous. Don’t follow me.”

  “You know I will, Master.”

  Arz grabbed his backpack and his belt, and filled them with different potions and ingredients. He grabbed a few Drops of Heaven and silverwater vials.

  “Let’s go.”

  Arz ran down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly. He almost tripped more than once, but managed to emerge from the tower without collapsing. The guard was outside, waiting as if to guide Arz to his own house.

  “Hold this.” Arz handed Orikori a Drop of Heaven.

  He opened the silverwater and carefully poured part of it into another container. His hands were a little shaky as he walked. His heart hammered in his chest, but he took a few deep breaths that helped him focus.

  “Swap.” Arz took the Drop and gave the other silverwater to Orikori, who slid it into Arz’s backpack.

  The guard watched curiously as Arz mixed the Drop into the silverwater, creating molten silver again. It still felt like a rudimentary weapon compared to what he often had to face, but it was better than nothing.

  Not that he needed to be around more molten rock. He had seen plenty at Parikus.

  They traveled a few blocks quickly. Arz jogged and ignored the pain of his clothes brushing against blistered skin.

  A whole group of guards stood outside Arz’s house with their muskets aimed at the door. Higgrion was with the group, standing just behind them. Isilhorn and Khoribin were to the side with AZ guns aimed.

  Khoribin nodded as Arz made eye contact.

  “Stand down,” Arz said loudly. “I’m going inside.”

  “We’re with you,” Khoribin said.

  “No. Absolutely not. Higgrion, get everyone away from here. Orikori, you go with the guards.”

  “They’re here to help,” Higgrion said.

  “Get away!” Arz walked to a guard and shoved his musket barrel to the ground. “I need a chance to examine it before anyone gets near! A mystery portal in my house could mean anything.” Arz took a deep breath and centered himself. “Go to your families. I can handle this.”

  “Arz, it is by order of the Wizards—”

  Arz glared at Higgrion, shutting the captain up. “I am part of the Wizards now and I command every single one of you to leave. Right now.”

  He held molten silver in one hand and a sparkstone in the other. He didn’t expect the sparkstone to do anything major, but it had stunned enemies before. There was always a chance it would help again.

  “Retreat,” Higgrion said. “Return to the Prime Wizard.” Higgrion frowned at Arz. “Careful.”

  Arz nodded and opened the scorched door. He closed it behind him without another look.

  Having the guards could be beneficial, but they were more like his friends than his protectors. At least, he hoped. Putting them in danger for no reason wouldn’t help anyone. Alzidius barely recovered from his injury that was caused by Arz’s carelessness. Nobody else needed to join that list.

  An unknown portal could lead anywhere. The first time he had traveled, he was stuck for weeks. Khoribin and Isilhorn didn’t need to disappear, and if Orikori got stuck with him on some other planet, who would feed Sal?

  Little remained of his house. He hadn’t done anything but recover Ziylara and Alorala’s bodies. It smelled of old smoke and dust. He passed through what was left of the entryway and confidently strode into the living room where a huge portal whirled and groaned. Its color was harsh against the charred, blackened remains of Arz’s life.

  He took a deep breath, looking up at the top of the massive portal. It was twice as big as anything Arz normally opened and was ringed with a green shimmer, which was new to Arz.

  To the side, in a nearly collapsed, burnt armchair sat a horned man. He looked as if he was waiting patiently.

  Arz scowled. “I didn’t realize I had a guest waiting for me.”

  The stranger looked a lot like a human, apart from the horns curving out of his forehead. He was incredibly muscular and had to be at least eight or nine feet tall. The chair was way too small for him, and in its damaged state, would likely collapse.

  He was lounging until he spotted Arz. Then, he sat more upright and nodded. His eyes were green like spring grass and his skin was brown. He had long black hair that was pushed back.

  “Who are you?” Arz asked.

  The man cocked his head.

  This wasn’t anything like Arz’s last encounter with unfamiliar creatures. The slimes had rescued, then promptly arrested him, and the ricarun robots desperately wanted to shoot him. Either way, neither had waited for him as this man now did.

  This man just sat patiently. Calmly.

  Arz walked to the nearby stone table. Half of it was still standing. He set the molten silver on the tabletop, and placed his sparkstone back in his pocket. It took a moment of fishing through his backpack to pull out two translation potions. His last two.

  Arz pulled one of his own hairs and placed it in the slime. He slowly approached the horned man and held out the potion.

  The man took it immediately and held it up in front of his eyes. The slime was the same color, and Arz wondered if there was a connection. Probably not. What would the connection be?

  Arz held out the other one with the cork out. He gestured to pull out a hair and nodded to the vial.

  The horned man did as Arz mimicked and put his hair into Arz’s slime. Arz corked it and shook. The very idea of drinking hair was enough to make Arz want to vomit, but he knew this worked.

  He tilted his head back and drank the translation potion. A small heave almost caused Arz to puke, but he controlled it.

  The horned man drank his and didn’t react at all.

  They stared blankly at each other.

  “Did it work?” Arz asked.

  “Yes.” The man shifted. “Where am I?”

  “Earth.”

  “I have never heard of it.” The man smiled. His teeth were pointed, giving his smile a menacing appearance. “Zilpika did it. Who are you?” His green eyes seemed to bore a hole right through Arz. They were intense, focused.

  “Arz Kurana. You?”

  “Apralika.” He stood, towering over Arz. His portal still whirled to the side. “Have you seen another of my kind?”

  “No. Should I have?”

  “Yes. I seek my brother.” He took a step toward Arz. His feet were bare and massive. He crouched until he was eye level with Arz.

  “And why exactly are you looking for him?” Arz gestured to the wreckage. “I doubt he’d be hiding in these burnt ruins.”

  Arpalika nodded. “Where did he go?”

  “I’ve traveled through portals all over, and I haven’t seen anyone like you.”

  “Not like me. His skin is blue.” Arpalika pointed to the massive portal. “Did your portals look like this?”

  “No. Mine have a purple shimmer.”

  Arpalika stood tall. “You create these on your own?”

  “I’m an alchemist.”

  Arpalika grunted. “You have been traveling in your own dimension. Derkulk is jumping between dimensions then.”

  Arz couldn’t keep the grin from his face. “Other dimensions?”

  “Are you interested?”

  Arz nodded.

  “Then let us go. I will need your assistance in my hunt, Alchemist.”

  Arpalika strode through the portal, leaving Arz alone in his destroyed home. His heart thumped in his ears. Different dimensions? The portal was notably different in both color and size. Were there other ways to create portals?

  If he was going to truly discover new things and find ways to help the people of Bralincote, he couldn’t do it by becoming a red oil salesman. A new race of people, and a new type of portal. He had to take the opportunity, no matter how dangerous it was.

  Could he trust Arpalika?

  Absolutely not. But Arz Kurana didn’t hesitate. He checked his ingredients and rushed through the portal into a different dimension.