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weapons with them, and they were all absorbed when those candidates… failed the test.”

I couldn’t help but scoff a little at her phrasing. The candidates who had “failed the test” had died in the process. Kyrine and I still did not see eye-to-eye on the subject of killing people—she was comfortable with it, and I was not—but I had to admit that it was useful to have these modern weapons here.

Glancing over the bristling shelves, I saw Glocks, shotguns, a rack of AR-15s, and even a couple of Smith & Wesson revolvers, heavy and gleaming in the bright lights of the armory. I picked up one of the revolvers and thumbed the cylinder release latch. All six chambers were loaded.

“Any of these enchanted?” I asked.

“Only those ones over there,” Kyrine said, pointing to a rack at the back. Glancing up, I saw three copies of the magitech MP5 that I’d brought into the mansion when I’d first arrived here. They hung in a black metal rack next to boxes of regular ammo.

The sight of that gun took my memory back to the goons we’d fought on the way up to the mansion. They had been armed with standard-issue magitech MP5s with Storm Sphere and Fireball rounds. Together with Astrid and Belinda, I’d killed the goons in self-defense and brought one of their submachine guns to the mansion.

They had been in the employ of PentaTech, a massive global security services and magitech firm. Later, we’d realized that they had been connected to the Technomancer, an evil creator of cyborg zombie slaves who appeared to have some mysterious designs on the mansion.

I put the revolver down. The memory of the PentaTech and the Technomancer made me think about everything we had to do. I was going to have to do more than just create cool stuff here in the mansion. There were dangers we would have to face. And the dangers posed by PentaTech and the Technomancer would probably be nothing in comparison to the coming of the Fateweaver. He had destroyed Eosor and defeated armies of its strongest magic users.

Kyrine seemed to read my thoughts. “We’ve got work to do, haven’t we?” she said.

“We sure do. Kyrine, this is amazing. Thank you. With all this to work with, I know we’ll be able to defeat our enemies, restore you to your former glory, and save the world in the process.”

She smiled broadly. “Well, Jeremy, if you’re confident in our abilities, that’s good enough for me.”

I took her in my arms and gave her a squeeze.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go down to breakfast.”

Chapter 3

Bacon was crackling in a hefty iron pan when Kyrine and I reached the kitchen. The window blinds were drawn up, and I could see out into the grounds. Morning sun filled the big roomy space, and birds were singing outside.

“Good morning, you two,” said Astrid, turning from the stove with a spatula in one hand. She looked good, her hair loose over her shoulders and wearing a white apron over loose white linen trousers and a black t-shirt. Her feet were bare.

“Take a seat,” she continued. “Food’s nearly ready.”

The kitchen was spacious, centered around a massive wooden dining table that looked as if it would have taken ten men to lift it. The floor was big flagstones of warm, dark gray granite. Counters stretched along one wall, interrupted only by the kind of cooking range you only see in old movies—wood-fired, with a black hot plate on top, and several oven spaces. Through a small door, a short flight of stairs went down into a dim, cool pantry.

Kyrine seated herself at the table while I walked over to peer out the window.

“The garden in this section of the grounds looks better tended than I expected,” I said.

I looked out at neatly mown grass, trimmed hedges, and beds of brightly flowering plants. Most of the mansion’s surrounding grounds were in disarray, with long grass and looming, overgrown shrubs.

“Yeah, I was going to mention that,” Astrid said. “There’s some kind of creature out there, I think it’s a Flora Whelp. It seems to be gardening…”

I laughed out loud. “I totally forgot about him! Before we set out on our mission to fight the Cobra, I discovered by accident that my summoned Flora Whelp has the ability to improve the garden. He has a spell called Bloom that he can use to fix up neglected bits of the garden. I set him to it and left him at it all night and half the morning! I’d better de-summon him. He’s done a great job, but I guess he’ll be needing a rest!”

Even as I spoke, the sinuous, shimmering form of the Flora Whelp appeared on the trimmed lawn. It was about the size of a big dog, but longer, with a dragon-like face and a long, whippy tail. Alternating stripes of vivid emerald and rich teal ran the length of its body. At the end of its tail, there was a broad flap of hide, leaf-shaped with a sharp edge.

I turned my attention inward to my summoning sphere, the ball of white light at the center of my soul that was the core of my summoning ability. From here, I de-summoned the Flora Whelp, feeling the pure magic that manifested the creature twisting and recalling back to me.

The Flora Whelp shot me a reproachful look for having forgotten about it before it vanished into a swirl of gray dust. The dust flew through the window toward me, and I held up a hand to absorb it, feeling a rush of energy as the mana was reabsorbed into my core.

There was a ping, and I felt a nudge from my Primary Cultivation System. With a flick of my hand, I brought up the display and saw a notification for the Flora Whelp.

Flora

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