“Sir, I need to get some things before we leave.” - said Matthew after the door closed behind us.

I nodded: “I will be in my quarters.” As my new mansion seemed to be outside of Akadem, I intended to prepare some money in advance.

---

I took a wrong turn on my way, but finally reached by rooms.

First, I picked around around five hundred ounces of my share of gold, leaving the scrap metal,jewelry and other loot. Laptop, phone...just in case. And a few books. And Giant-lock chain. I left the remaining books and artifacts in the study, and shook some fine rock dust off the jacket. British winter had no way to affect me, but drawing unnecessary attention was not in my current plans.

I had just finished packing the gold whose weight threatened the seams of the bag when I heard knocking. It was time to go.

---

While we walked, I asked Matthew about Sandra. He explained to me that Sandra was one of the Guardians of Akadem. She came from an old family that had served as Guardians and even Protectors for generations, with her great-great-grandfather being one of the current Protectors of Akadem. And to put everything simply, Guardians were the police force under the Protectors. If the Protectors were few, chosen exceptional people mostly dealing with the critical threats, then the Guardians, numbering more than a hundred, managed the day-to-day issues of law and security.

The walls of the hallway curved and the passage began to spiral. When we reached the destination, it became apparent that it was a defensive measure.

Matthew had brought me into the grand round hall that had a size rivalling multiple football fields. Above us, was a high, vaulted and coffered ceiling. And within each of the recesses there were bronze statues of archers and javelin throwers that seemed to stare down at us. With my perception, I could see that the bronze quivers on statues’ hips were full of intricately crafted bronze arrows and each javelin thrower had multiple spares on the wall behind him.

The floor of the room was descending towards the middle like in an amphitheater. Each level was also separated by a waist-high stone parapet, and manned by around two dozens of Guardians clad in their wide grey capes. In such a huge hall, it felt like an insignificant number, but I was sure that the statues above were not there for their artistic value. Not to mention about the other protections that were likely hidden with some magic I had trouble noticing.

The Guardians observed us, but did not react. At the very bottom of the amphitheatre, the center of the room was full fifty meters across. And there, tens of platforms of various sizes were set up in an orderly pattern.

Each platform was made of different stone, and the larger ones were actually composed of more than one type of rock. Granite, basalt, sandstone, marble, limestone… some of the common ones I could recognize. For me, most of the others were just ‘shiny, smooth blue’, ‘dull porous black’, ‘grainy speckled red and green’.

Without stopping, Matthew led us towards the edge, where the relatively small sized platforms were located.

He took out his astrolabe, and suspended it from its chain above the middle of the platform. The material of this platform was mostly quartz-grained grey, but the edges had a pattern made of some other shades and colours, such as yellowish sandstone.

Soon, the platform lit up as numerous carefully engraved deep grooves lit up and strands of glowing threads rose to intertwine in the air around us. And again, I could see the light and sense the vibrations of the air, but not the energy itself.

Before I could observe more, our surroundings blinked and I experienced a mind-squeezing push that could be roughly described as a combined feeling of sinking and floating, with a sudden accelerating shift sideways. Then, we appeared in some dark, stone-walled room.

---

The room was bare, without any furniture or even windows. The only noticeable details were the platform below our feet and a door leading out. Matthew was fidgeting, and I noticed that first of all, he was trying to find something in his pocket. And two, he was swaying like a drunk.

After another moment, he managed to pull out a small ring and wore it on his index finger. With a puff, it emitted a soft, steady glow. The weak light revealed his pale, sweaty face.

“Ugh, hate these geoports…” - I heard a silent mutter that explained his condition.

He almost lost his balance as he stepped off the platform. Steadying himself by the wall, he shook his head and took a moment to take a deep breath. After his complexion got better, he used his astrolabe to knock against the door. The door swung open, revealing a wide staircase leading upwards. Evidently, the geoport had brought us into a cellar.

We went up the stairs, reaching another room.

The narrow and dim, highly placed windows barely illuminated the wooden beams of the ceiling and lots of dust motes that were stirred up by our arrival. From the outside, I could hear the sounds of the city - mostly the hubbub of vehicles and people. Before the door, there were several ascending steps, suggesting that the street level was actually higher than the street level. That meant, that we were in a really old building, and clearly in a city or town.

Matthew did not stop, and approached the door while his flashlight-ring slowly dimmed.

Having opened the lock using his astrolabe, he turned around.

And with an exaggerated flourish, pulled the door open, announcing: “Sir, allow me to welcome you to Edinburgh!”

And he fell silent, catching the scene outside from the corner of his eye. Facing the door, on the crossroads, stood a military truck with a mounted machine gun on top. And it was manned, with the soldiers carefully observing the street.

The street was cobbled and surrounded by medieval-looking buildings, with numerous shops advertising cashmere, kilts, souvenirs and whisky everywhere. But now, all stores seemed to be closed. As for the armored vehicle, it stood just in front of a shuttered storefront opposite from us. I had no idea about its model, but it was some sort of TSV, a tactical support vehicle, of the type that used to be seen in footages from Near East and Afghanistan.

Next to me, Matthew wondered: “Alright, what are they doing on Royal Mile? Are they sure they want to shoot their guns here?”

I had never been to Edinburgh before, and even the map, that I had taken time to have a look at, was a very generic one.

For the reasons mentioned above, I had trouble recognizing our location, so I pointed at the street sign hanging on the corner: “Royal Mile? It says Lawnmarket over there.”. The street sign looked new, apparently replaced not long ago.

He pointed up the street, past some kind of of repurposed church: “Um, Sir, Royal Mile is a generic name for a succession of streets that start from the Castle,” - then he motioned towards the opposite direction while continuing to explain the local geography: “... and goes all the way till some local royal palace or something, I forgot the name, I’m afraid.”

Matthew talked in loud voice, taking for granted the fact that a team of alert professional soldiers were ignoring us who were just ten or so meters away from them.

Obviously, that was again some kind of magic. Or how specified the books that I had read, in modern English terminology, the correct term would be “wizardry”. From the examples I had read about and that suited the situation, I now remembered such approaches as the presence-dispersing wards, illusion barriers, fairy circles and complex multi-layer combination arrays.

Matthew looked along the street, visibly annoyed by the proximity of the heavily armed forces to the historical heritage.

However, even with the army on full alert and out in the city, there was some pedestrian traffic. I had no idea if there were more or less people than usual, but everyone looked nervous.

“Sir, Starpath Maelstrom Shroud should be powerful enough to let us blend in with them.” - Matthew pointed towards an approaching group of three middle-aged men.

I could do nothing but not.

I had always been curious when facing something unknown. And now, when the magic turned out something real, I was really interested in understanding its principles. Because of that, I did not mind spending a lot of attention to compare all the new relevant information with what I had learned before.

But I could remember nothing about the mentioned Starpath Maelstrom Shroud. The only similar-sounding thing was Starsky Veil, a modernized version of an old druidic protection ward. That one was mentioned in Basic Theory as an example of improvement and refinement of the old, outdated methods. But its focal and key points were supposed to be eyecatching chunks of rock crystal (that replaced the megaliths used in the original arrangement) and I could not see any of those right now.

---

Just like Matthew had intended, we stepped out from the door and blended in with the passersby. I had no idea how the Shroud worked, but the soldiers were not alerted by the fact that three people suddenly became five.

As we reached the end of the building, I felt my watch shake in my pocket. At that exact moment, I lost my perception of the house we had just came out from. Even the two buildings that used to flank the house now stood next to each other.

I did my best to sense the hidden house, but all I could perceive were the suspiciously uniform curves of the electromagnetic radiation in the narrow area where the buildings met. Simply put, the usually chaotic light, radio and other waves, that I had become able to sense after the forced body change, showed the signs of being artificially adjusted. I had to admit, that such level of concealment was much higher than the one that used to hide the entrance of the ill-fated Bull’s Blood’s market.

While we walked behind the group, I also did the usual thing of eavesdropping on their talk. As awkward as it was to admit, it was becoming a habit for be by now.

“...news, news say that, and ya believe?”

“Well, man, ye know, Max called me in the mornin’, said there’s a whole mountain next to em now. With grass and shit, as if it has been there for years.”

“I say, we get beans and pasta and hole up until the shit calms down.”

“‘Great, man. And ale. Perhaps, canned soup and stuff too? But still, What the fuck is going on? You believe they say about volcanic stuff and Earth crust moving and whatever?”

“That’s totes bullshit. Lets pick some gin too.”

“I vote for beer too. And yea, even I know the grass doesn’t just appear on new patch of land out of a sudden.”

“So, what’s that, then?”

“Army’s out, and they say nothing. You got anyone there to ask?”

“Nah, ya?”

“Nopes. Look, there ain’t no those damn clouds today, so let’s go and get stuff done before it begins raining meteorites next, for God’s sake.”

“Oh, now that ya said that, true. Haven’t seen the sky, I think, for months?”

“Then, maybe everything’s over, hey? Weird shit happens all the time, and now it has ended, perhaps.”

I looked up. True, there were no more signs of storm clouds that had reportedly plagued the world for the last several months, restricting the air traffic and almost cutting off the intercontinental transportation. Remembering what I had seen from the outside of the world, I suspected that it was merely the calm before the storm.

I kept listening to the conversation until Matthew turned onto the side street and I followed him, thus separating from the group.