SNICKLEWAY

This is a supremely sketchy part of town, Haru,” my cousin Tegan comments as we continue to tail my roommate Zalan Astaroth through the streets of Londaria.

She’s right. It really is. And I’m already regretting everything about this. This being following Zal to confirm the gossip she heard about him dropping out of Bealnora after… Well…one of our fellow mages sorta killed him.

Which is why we’re spending a perfectly dreadful weekend morning getting drenched to the bone. Because what I love more than anything is traipsing through what appears to be the disreputable backstreets of the City of Magik to follow Zalan at a healthy distance.

When I think things can’t possibly get more suspect, we turn down a narrow snickleway of cobbled stones. The path dips and curves, the buildings jutting out and receding like a misaligned row of teeth. And suddenly Zal stops. 

Me and Tegan flatten ourselves back against the worn stone of a building as we try to duck out of view. After several tense moments, I peek out. The snickleway is completely deserted aside from the two of us and one half-drowned pigeon.

“Come on, Haru, what are you waiting for?” Tegan questions as she continues past me at a brisk pace. 

I hurry after my cousin only to nearly collide with her when she comes to a stop in the snickleway a short distance ahead. There’s a few darkened doorways and one understated wooden bracket sign in deep bottle green and gold that reads simply: THE TRANSMUTIST.

I lean into her hesitantly. “Are you sure this is the shop you saw him go into, Tegan?”

“Positive,” she says with the utmost confidence as she marches forward. 

 No jingle of bells or flash of lights announces our arrival as we enter what appears to be an artificer’s. 

Curious? With a name like that, I would have thought it was an alchemist. 

The Transmutist is packed to the brim with crowded wooden shelves of magikal devices and oddities that twist off into the distance and stretch up toward the high ceilings. The whole establishment feeling more catacomb than shop.

My gaze shifts over the seemingly endless displays of artifacts and magikal devices as we start to explore. What exactly did I just walk into? It’s like some mythical dragon’s hoard or—

“Can I help you two with something?” a silky male voice questions from just behind us.

“Uh! We were just wondering about this—uh…?” Tegan attempts to lie as she grabs the nearest object—a delicate bit of who even knows what.

The statuesque man arches a thin, well-defined brow. “Pygmygryph hunch trimmer.”

“Uh…” Tegan falters as she nudges me with her elbow, but I’m much too busy staring.

The artificer before us is fairly striking. One might even say gorgeous with his sculpted features and lithe build. But most notable of all is his obsidian mane of loose curls that tumbles clear down to his hips with a large streak of viridian, the same color as his eyes.

Viridian…eyes. Just like Zalan’s…

“Wait, are you the one who made his heart?!” I blurt out too suddenly as Tegan fumbles the trimmer, dropping it.

The artificer narrows his green eyes at me as he stoops to retrieve the fumbled magikal device. “And how would you know anything about that, boy?” 

I swallow hard. “Uh…”

“What are you two doing here?” my dormmate suddenly demands.

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Chapter 22 – Snickleway: Part One, ExSpelled © 2026 by Kat Vancil

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