Chapter 45: Priorities

  “Can I get a raincheck?” I asked.

  Mr. Smith crossed his arms. “Chen and Dolores told me you were hungry. Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed.”

  “I am hungry,” I shot back. “But I’ve learned something recently. While I do want to learn everything, I need to focus on one thing at a time. Give me a chance to learn what Mr. Yu is teaching me, and I promise I’ll come back.”

  He stroked his scraggly beard before replying. “I suppose that’s good enough.”

  We still had to wait for the moonchrome to cool, so Mr. Smith showed me around the forge, introducing me to the many tools of his trade. It turned out that smiths were more traditional than tinkerers. While Tinkerers tended to do everything with a multitool, Mr. Smith had a different tool for every task. It made sense, considering he couldn’t grasp something with tongs if they also doubled as his hammer. It made me wonder how tinkerers managed issues like that. Did they have multiple multitools?

  Once the bars were set, he carefully removed them from the mold and handed them to me. “You’re going to have to have a leatherworker sew them into your gloves. Unless you’re confident in working with leather, that is.”

  “I can sew,” I said.

  Mr. Smith chuckled. “That’s hardly the same. For one, you’ll have a tough go of it trying to pierce leather with a sewing needle. You need special equipment to deal with leather. Additionally, leather doesn’t behave the same as cloth, so you’ll want to be aware of that. My suggestion is that you stop by Mrs. Giancotti’s shop and ask her for help. Tell her I sent you.”

  I replied. “We’ll head over there now. Thanks for all your help.”

  “Don’t mention it, kid,” Mr. Smith patted me on the back so hard I nearly fell over. “It’s refreshing to see at least some of the young generation not caught up in the old ways.”

  Once we were out of earshot, Leslie tugged on my sleeve. “What do you think he meant by old ways?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. None of the crafters in here belong to the guild. I don’t know about Mr. Smith, but Miss Drips and Mr. Yu both have black marks.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Do you think Mr. Smith has one?”

  “Maybe,” I shrugged. “It’s not something that’s easy to ask about. Is there a way of telling?”

  She shook her head. “No, but people always find out. I was outted about a week after we moved to Manhattan, and now, it seems like everyone knows.”

  We were still talking about it when we arrived at the leatherworks shop. A short woman with curly red locks looked up as we arrived. “Ah, you must be Oliver. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  “How do you know who I am?” I asked.

  The woman smiled warmly. “We all talk about you. You’re coming here has been like a breath of fresh air for us old codgers.”

  “You don’t look old,” Leslie said.

  The woman cackled, making me wonder how old she actually was.

  Annette Giancotti

  Class: Leatherworker

  Level: 71

  Age: 82

  Weight: 115 Lbs

  Height 4’9

  I leaned over to whisper in Leslie’s ear. “She’s eighty-two years old.”

  “I heard that,” Mrs. Giancotti said, planting her hands on her hips. “Not that I mind you knowing my age. I’m more intrigued by how you know it. You must have quite the appraisal skill.”

  I nodded, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s a class skill.”

  I didn’t want to tell her all about Analyze, or risk her forcing me to appraise things like Madam Hurst did. She seemed to take my explanation in stride, beckoning us to her booth with a flourish.

  “Welcome to my humble shop,” she chirped. “What is it that brings you here today?”

  “We need to sew these into these,” I explained, placing the glove and moonchrome rods on the table in front of her.

  Mrs. Giancotti picked up the glove and examined the work I’d done on it so far. “Who butchered these? You need to be more delicate when chopping the fingers off. And where exactly do you want these metal bars to be placed? Is this going to be some sort of knuckle duster?”

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  “No,” I laughed. “Those are moonchrome bars. I’m going to make them into mana batteries. The glove is supposed to infuse arrows with mana to make them more powerful.”

  “Can you do that?” Leslie whispered in my ear.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Spoken like a true tinkerer,” Mrs. Giancotti said with a chuckle.

  “Actually,” I replied. “I’m not a tinkerer. I’m just learning how to do it because it looked interesting.”

  “You really are a curious fellow, aren’t you?” she said, turning her attention to Leslie. “I need to know, do you intend to punch things with this glove?”

  “Punch…” Leslie spluttered. “Uh, no! I’m an archer, not a pugilist.”

  “And that’s a good thing,” Mrs. Giancotti said, going on to explain. “Because if you punch something with a mana battery sewn into the knuckle, you’re either going to blow up your opponent, or your fist. Most likely both.”

  She took out a thick needle and got to work. “Normally, I’d start from scratch on a project like this. Sewing metal rods like these into an already-made glove isn’t ideal. Fortunately, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to make this work.”

  Without wasting time on an explanation, she got right to work. The next thing I knew, she’d sliced up the gloves. She then expanded the material and created vertical pockets for the moonchrome rods. I somehow knew she did it that way to enhance the flow of mana as well as to reinforce Leslie’s natural bone structure. She left a small hole of exposed metal so it would come into direct contact with her skin to allow her essence to flavor the mana in the battery.

  Info: You have Observed the Leatherworking skill. You may Mimic the skill (1) time. Observe (99) more times to make the skill permanent.

  “I could watch you work all day,” I said, thrilled to get a new skill update.

  Mrs. Giancotti smirked. “This is nothing. You should watch me start with a rawhide.”

  “I’d like that,” I replied before remembering I needed to focus on Tinkering first. “I’ll add you to the list.”

  She whistled appreciatively. “A list, eh? That’s pretty ambitious. Be careful not to bite off more than you can chew.”

  “Whenever I see somebody make something, I want to try it myself,” I said, heaving a heavy sigh. “Maybe that is too ambitious.”

  “I don’t know how you do it,” Leslie said. “And yet you don’t want to fight monsters or explore dungeons. Imagine all the treasure we can find?”

  She had a point. That did sound appealing. However, there was just one problem.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked. “At least, down here, nothing is trying to kill me, or worse, soil my clothes!”

  Leslie tutted. “It’s only dangerous if you aren’t careful. The most danger I’ve ever been in was when you stomped that slime.”

  “Hey!” I barked playfully. “I cleaned your clothes, didn’t I?”

  “They wouldn’t have needed cleaning if you didn’t do that,” she retorted, before thinking better of it. “But thank you. They were extra clean once you were done with them.”

  “And I’m going to make you better armor,” I added.

  “That’s the spirit,” Mrs. Giancotti cheered us on as she expertly stitched the gloves. “Spoil your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” I quickly corrected the woman, though I noticed Leslie didn’t.

  When I gave her a questioning look, she looked away. We watched in awkward silence as Mrs. Giancotti finished up.

  Info: You have Observed the Leatherworking skill. You may Mimic the skill (1) time. Observe (98) more times to make the skill permanent.

  I’d been so caught up in the conversation that I missed the other six updates to the skill, not that I minded. Things were going to get very interesting once I gained a few permanent skills. Then I wouldn’t have to rely on Analyze so much.

  Mrs. Giancotti handed me the glove and winked. “That’ll be one silver. Consider it the local discount. You’re one of us now.”

  “Do you make a lot of money down here?” I asked. “I know some of the others have black marks.”

  She laughed. “We all do, hon. That’s how you end up down here, if you’re a crafter, that is.”

  “Oh,” Leslie’s face fell. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Bah,” Mrs. Giancotti chortled. “You won’t see anyone feeling sorry for themselves. Not down here in any case. We all manage a hearty living. Don’t you worry about that. All of the people who matter won’t care one little bit about your black mark. You can trust me on that. Also, those of us who share this mark stick together like stars in a constellation. If you need anything, just come straight to us. We’ll take care of you right as rain. That goes for you, too, Oliver. Even though you don’t bear the mark now, you’ll get one soon enough if you keep rejecting the guilds.”

  “Black Label!” I announced excitedly. “That’s what I’m going to call it.”

  “Call what?” Leslie asked, taking a step back in surprise at my outburst.

  “My company,” I grinned. “The one I’ve been dreaming of making ever since we got kicked out of the auction house.”

  “They kicked you out?” Mrs. Giancotti asked in surprise.

  “No,” Leslie corrected me. “They wouldn’t let me in, and Oliver refused to go without me.”

  “That was very noble of you,” Mrs. Giancotti said with a smile. “Of course, without the auction house, you might struggle to sell your wares one day. You should probably make good with them while you can. Some of us worked out a deal to do business in the auction through a pseudonym. I’m sure they’ll let you as well. It only becomes complicated when you want to make a purchase. Then, you need an agent.”

  “I don’t like it,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I’m going to find a better way for that, too.”

  “Well, be sure to tell me about it when you do,” she replied with a chuckle.

  Once we settled up, I made the decision not to go back to Mr. Yu as it was getting late. On the way home, we decided to make a quick stop at Miss Spencer’s tailor shop. The sun was already beginning to set, but I still needed to at least make an appearance.

  “You’re here late,” she pointed out as we entered the shop. She was smiling, though. “How are your lessons going in the shopping arcade?”

  “Good, I guess,” I replied, feeling anxious to learn the Innovate skill. That would change things for all of my crafting.

  She smiled. “They are good people down there, all of them. Now, what can I do for you today? It’s a little late to work.”

  “Oh,” I said, looking at a clock in the corner. “It’s just I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to visit you lately.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “That’s fine. I know you’re working hard. Just remember, you have to put your time in here, too. There’s still plenty I can teach you.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “I think I bit off more than I can chew.”

  Miss Spencer laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll manage. Why don’t you head home now? Come back when you’re ready to give me one hundred percent of your attention, or if you need anything, of course.”

  “Thanks, Miss Spencer,” I said as we headed for the exit.

  “Wait,” Miss Spencer called after us. “Leslie. The dress you requested is done. Would you like to take it with you today?”

  For some odd reason, Leslie turned beet red and shook her head profusely. She mumbled a hasty apology and dragged me out the door.

  We walked in silence for a while before she stopped and turned to face me. “Um, Ollie, what do you think of me?”

  “Uh, you’re great!” I exclaimed, not sure why she was asking. “You’re going to be an awesome Archer.”

  She frowned. “Not that. I mean, as a person. Do you like me?”

  “Of course, I like you!” I was eating out of her hand at that point, still utterly confused.

  The frown deepened. “Never mind. I gotta go. Can I meet you tomorrow for breakfast?”

  “Uh, sure,” I said, but it was too late. She’d already run off.

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