"You want HOW MUCH quicksilver, milady?" - alchemist repeats in a slightly horrified voice.

"A posson." - I repeat mildly. Next to me, Alistair blinks.

"That doesn't seem that much." - he adds.

"Young sir, a posson of quicksilver would weigh almost four livres." - alchemist retorts - "And it is far more than I keep at any time. Quicksilver is poisonous, you know. Gives you shakes if you don't handle it with caution."

Curious. This is unusually early for people to realize that heavy metals are poisonous. Then again, professor Schlagenblum did quiz me a lot on lead toxicity in the beginning of the year. Wonder how it came out. Maybe poison detection spells react to heavy metals? Oh well. Gotta tell the guy something.

"I see. Oh well." - I reply blandly - "I won't ask for how much you have. Guess I'll just visit the merchant guild and place a purchase order. Maybe they have enough in stocks, but in the worst case, we'll just have to wait a couple weeks. Sorry about that, Al."

"Why not just buy it in parts?" - he inquires entirely reasonably.

"How many alchemists who sell ingredients do you think there are in Parsee?" - I quip - "We're in one place. There is another shop, if it can be called such, down in Greegney district." I pause, nod thoughtfully at alchemist's grimace and continue - "They deal in, well... dubious merchandise. While they probably would take an order for quicksilver, if we go down there, we're going to get ripped off or they will sell us a stolen mess that kinda sorta maybe looks like quicksilver. If you squint. No one on the market would carry it, not on the open at least. And I'd rather not clear out the only respectable alchemy shop in Parsee completely out of a rare ingredient."

I pause, shrug, and continue - "And while I can place the order right here, it would be quicker and cheaper for me to just order it directly through Merchant Guild. I do get preferential prices as the corporation owner."

And now alchemist looks like he just choked on his own tongue. "...Are you, by any chance, Lady Gillespie?" - he then proffers in a constricted voice.

"I am, yes. What of it?" - I quip. He looks down.

"I am deeply ashamed to ask, unhelpful as I have been, but... Lady Gillespie, I have had read in a newspaper that your retainer, monsieur Lamarchand, had envisioned a cure for consumption. Is it... could I... how much would..." - he stammers.

"You don't have consumption." - I cut him short - "So whom are you asking for?"

"My wife and daughter, milady." - he whispers - "My wife is bedridden, and I fear she is not long for this world, and my daughter coughs her lungs out every day. I... maybe..."

I sigh. "Bring me a sheet of paper and quill." - I tell him - "I'll write you a note. Lemand is going to present the treatise on the method for sir Pasteur's approbation in two days. They will need volunteers to demonstrate the method on. If you approach Lemand before then, you can get your family in on that. For free. The note is so that he knows I sent you." I pause, and lean over the table - "Don't make me regret writing that note, monsieur. If you do, I will make you regret being born. Briefly."

As the alchemist departs as a trot, Alistair leans to me and whispers - "Isn't that a little harsh?"

"He could be thinking that the cure is actually an alchemic composition and lying about his family being sick to get a sample and try to concoct his own version of it." - I explain - "Or he might actually have the sick relatives, but still doing this for the sake of obtaining the sample of cure, not to get them healthy. Or he might be trying to discredit the cure by claiming it didn't help his sick relatives. Which is why I'm giving him a note to Lemand, because this way the cure will be applied in front of the royal physician and numerous other witnesses, giving no chance for any shenanigans. If he's honest, then it changes nothing for him, given he'd still need to get his relatives to Lemand for treatment. If he's not... I will make him regret being born. Briefly."

Huffing announces that the writing utensils are here, and I busy myself jotting down a quick note (FUCKING QUILLS.), while panting alchemist admonishes Alistair quietly - "Young sir, milady had every reason to be cautious. It is a big thing, a cure for a sickness that was thought to be incurable. Many a person would sell their own mothers and daughters for a chance to find out the secrets of such a cure. Especially some of my less scrupulous colleagues. Putting one's name on a potion that cures the consumption, why, that means fame everlasting and kingly wealth."

"Not a potion." - I remark absentmindedly, as I hand the note to the alchemist - "Actually a magical process with several distinct and different steps. Requires several assorted mages to enact."

He blinks. "Ah. Now I understand why you agreed to anything at all." - he proffers - "Not that it actually matters to me how it works, so long as it does."

___

We run into Mihel right past the doors of the guild. He jerks up and looks at both me and Alistair with a hefty dose of wariness.

"Good day, Lady Gillespie." - he then proffers somewhat suspiciously - "Did something happen?"

I blink at him. "Good day to you too, herr van der Klaas." - I offer, and notice Mihel straightening up almost imperceptibly. I could've sworn he just perked up. Wonder why. Oh well. "No, nothing is going on, I just need to place a purchase order for something me and Alistair are working on. Personal project, you know?" - I continue, and Mihel brightens up.

"AAh, certainly, certainly." - he continues, as he pushes the door to the office open - "Come right in, I'll have a clerk with you right this moment."

Well, that's pretty solicitous of him. "Thank you, herr van der Klaas." - I continue - "Oh, before I forget. Remember the copy machine deal?"

Mihel pauses at the doorsill, then slowly turns around. "Ah. Well, yes, we had received a dozen for the guild's internal needs and disbursed full payment for those. Seven outstanding purchase orders from assorted nobles within Parsee and another thirteen from other cities." - he replies slowly - "Is... there something wrong with this?"

I chuckle. "No, no. Don't be so wary. I'm actually fulfilling the earlier promise to let you know about more mercantile endeavors." - I explain - "There will be soon music record playing machines available from the same workshop to order. Lily-Anne will be selling records themselves through her boutique, she'll come by sometime later to discuss distribution options with you. So... be ready for explosively popular luxury wares. Later on, once the labor has been fully trained and vetted, lady Selene will come by to register her artisanal workshop. She's going to specialize in musical instruments. You already know Moon Unit and Lily-Anne have my backing. Lady Selene has MY backing and prince Edward's backing, so keep that in mind."

He blinks, processing information, then nods wryly - "Sooo... unlimited credit, not that they will ever deign to borrow anything?"

"Pretty much, yes... Ah, excellent." - I agree just as a clerk slips into the room. He immediately parks himself at the table and pulls out a photocopy of the handwritten purchase order form. I quirk a brow at that. "Is that a temporary workaround or you've decided not to bother with the printing press?" - I ask Mihel.

"Temporary, lady Gillespie." - he retorts - "Unfortunately, the printing press is not as portable as copy machines, we're still waiting for it to arrive from Gillespie county. Should be here in two days, if the estimate dwarves gave me wasn't off."

"Ah. Fair enough." - I agree - "Dwarves that accompany the thing should be able to install everything by themselves, but if something goes wrong, you know where to reach me." I turn my attention back to the clerk.

"Hello there. I want to buy a posson of quicksilver." - I tell the clerk. He jots it down dutifully, casting a questioning eye towards me. "That's it." - I tell him blithely.

"Ah." - is his reply, and he leaves the room with an order without another sound. I blink at Mihel. "Wasn't he supposed to let me know the estimate for getting it together?" - I inquire.

"I think we have that much in stock already." - he retorts uncertainly just as the clerk returns with a wicker jar in his hands. The top is corked and sealed with wax, and the liquid lazily sloshing within is definitely mercury.

"Four d'or and three ecu, milady." - the clerk proffers crisply, as he pulls out the same purchase order and prepares the quill.

Al hops up before I do, digging through his pocket. He lays down four gold and three silver coins on top of the purchase order. The clerk glances at me, I nod and he closes the order as sold, passing the quill over to me for signature.

___

"You know?" - Alistair muses from his chair - "I thought I've seen something spectacular during the practicals on dueling. A feat of magic, as it were. And now I'm sitting here and thinking that yesterday, I was but a naïve fool. That was not spectacular. Not in comparison to just how mindboggling your current performance is."

I shrug and poke the welded seam. In order to fix Al's version of Bec De Corbin, I had to nudge a lot of things. Reshape the beak to better follow the curvature of swing, strengthen the spike by reshaping it into a narrowing hexagon, and finally slice the face off the hammer, make a proper hollow, pour mercury in and friction-weld the face back on its place. Nothing too outstanding, just half an hour of careful nudging with telekinesis and molecular disassociation spell. Satisfied that the welded seam is entirely sealing, I dismiss the conjured water filling up the rest of the cavity, leaving it full of mercury and vacuum, then give the thing a cautious swing. Feels pretty right, so I pass Bec De Corbin to Alistair. Who takes it, hefts it, swings it very cautiously... Swears, swings it again, stares at it, then turns to me shaking his head.

"It's ridiculous how much the whole balance changes just because the hammerhead is filled with mercury instead of iron." - he proffers - "It feels odd when you swing it, but also... Right, I guess? I definitely have a better feel for how it will swing now."

"Well, you should. Ah, Al, a word of warning." - I tell him - "Mercury-filled hammers are also called dead blow hammers. Be careful with it. It will strike much stronger than the bounceback would suggest. Definitely don't bounce it off the head of any student in here, you'll give them a concussion."

He chuckles. "Indeed. No worries, Alyssa, I will take my time practicing moves and blows with this on wooden logs and rocks before I even consider sparring with someone I go to Academy with. It's common sense when you're learning to handle any unfamiliar weapon, really."

"Oh? And you handle those often?" - I quip.

"Not as often as I would like, actually." - he retorts - "It is hard to find something genuinely new nowadays."

Oh-huh? Well, there is only one answer to that. "I can put together a couple more of unusual weapons, if you want learn them too." - I suggest and he grins, bowing in my direction. Kusarigama Al? Heh.

"By all means do, if you'd be so kind. I'm getting quite tired of swords and pikes." - he proffers.

Well... you asked.