Chapter 3

  Morning came too early, announced by the distant clanging of the Hall's work bell. I rolled off my bedroll, joints protesting. Thirty years in a dwarf body and I still wasn't used to sleeping on stone, even with padding. I grabbed my notebook and coin purse, tucking both into my belt pouch. Eighteen silver pieces, what remained after building my dreamcap inventory. Enough for the Fire-Belch ingredients if I was careful.

  The fungus gardens were three levels down, carved into chambers where natural heat from deeper geothermal vents created perfect growing conditions. I'd been there often enough over the years, watching the gardeners work whilst pretending to understand proper dwarven agriculture. The corridors were already busy with morning traffic. Miners heading to their shifts, kitchen workers hauling supplies, children being herded toward the learning halls. I kept my head down and navigated by memory.

  The gardens occupied a series of interconnected caverns, each one carefully climate-controlled through a combination of ventilation shafts and runic temperature regulation. The air grew warmer as I descended, thick with the earthy smell of growing things and rich soil. The entrance chamber held the common crops. Cavern wheat in neat rows, their pale stalks reaching toward enchanted light crystals embedded in the ceiling. Root vegetables sprawling in raised beds. Mushroom logs stacked against the walls, sprouting various edible fungi that supplemented the clan's diet.

  I found Nadra in the third chamber, elbow-deep in a bed of what looked like pure compost.

  "Oi, Gosdrunli!" She straightened, wiping her hands on her already filthy apron. "Bit early for you, innit? Thought you mine rats didn't crawl out till midday."

  "Very funny." I'd known Nadra for years, ever since I'd started sneaking into the gardens as a teenager to escape mining practice. She was seventy-three now, settled into her craft with the confidence that came from decades of experience. Gardening suited her. She had the patience for it. "I need ingredients. Got coin this time."

  "Coin?" Her eyebrows rose. "More brewin' then? Heard you've been at it non-stop for weeks. Whole level smells like you're bathing in ale."

  "Not bathing. Just brewing. A lot."

  "Aye, well. What're you after this time? Let me guess, something ambitious and probably dangerous?"

  "Embercaps. Pepperroot. And ashwillow bark if you stock it."

  "Embercaps and pepperroot?" She stared at me. "Mountain Fathers' balls, Gosdrunli, what're you brewing? Liquid arson?"

  "Something like that."

  She laughed, a sound that echoed off the cavern walls. "Right then. This I've got to see. Come on, the hot chamber's this way."

  We passed through two more growing caverns, each one warmer than the last. The fourth chamber made me sweat immediately. Heat radiated from vents in the floor, and the air shimmered slightly. The smell here was different, sharper, with an almost sulphurous edge.

  "This is where we grow anything that needs proper heat," Nadra explained, leading me past beds of strange, spiky vegetables I didn't recognise. "Embercaps are over here."

  She stopped beside a cluster of mushrooms growing directly from the stone floor. They were larger than I'd expected, caps the size of my fist, coloured a deep orange that faded to yellow at the edges. Even from a few feet away, I could feel warmth radiating from them.

  "Three varieties," Nadra pointed. "These orange ones are common embercaps. Mild heat, good for cooking. Them red ones over there are hotcaps, much stronger. And those tiny golden ones in the corner are blazecaps, dangerous little bastards. Touch one wrong and you'll burn your fingers clean off."

  I knelt beside the common embercaps, studying them. The caps seemed to pulse slightly with their own heat. "How do you harvest them without getting burned?"

  "Carefully." Nadra produced a pair of thick leather gloves from her apron. "And with these. The heat's in the caps mostly, stems are safe enough to handle. You want them for brewing, you'll need to dry them first. Fresh embercaps are too volatile. The moisture makes the heat unpredictable."

  "How long to dry?"

  "Three days minimum, laid out in a warm place. Week if you want them properly stable." She plucked one of the mushrooms with practised efficiency, holding it up. "How many you need?"

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  "Start with a dozen? I'm testing ratios."

  "Smart." Nadra selected twelve of the common embercaps, laying them carefully in a wooden box she retrieved from a nearby shelf. "These'll cost you two silver for the lot. I'll throw in drying racks for free since we're friends."

  "Appreciated." I counted out two silver pieces, watching my funds shrink.

  "Now, pepperroot." She led me back through the chambers to a section I'd somehow missed before. Raised beds held plants with thick, dark green leaves. "We grow two types. Sweet pepperroot and fire pepperroot. Sweet's got a mild kick, good for adding flavour. Fire's what you want if you're looking for actual heat."

  She pulled one of the fire pepperroots from the soil. The root was gnarled and twisted, deep red in colour, about the length of my forearm. "These are potent. One root this size could spice a whole stew pot. How much you need?"

  "Just one to start. I can make tincture from it."

  "Tincture's the right approach. Raw pepperroot in a brew would burn your throat out." Nadra brushed soil from the root. "This'll be three silver. They take eight months to mature properly."

  I counted out three more silver pieces. Five silver spent already.

  "What exactly are you making?" Nadra asked as she wrapped the pepperroot in cloth. "I know you said fire-related, specifics though?"

  I hesitated. The idea still sounded ridiculous when I said it out loud.

  "Ale that makes you belch fire."

  Nadra stared at me for a solid five seconds. Then she burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching her sides. "Belch fire? Mountain Fathers, that's the dumbest thing I've heard all week!"

  "It's marketable!"

  "It's brilliant is what it is!" She wiped tears from her eyes. "Every young idiot in the clan'll want to try it. Could make a fortune off drunk miners showing off for each other."

  "That's the idea."

  "Right, right." She composed herself, though she still grinned. "Okay, so embercaps for the fire effect, pepperroot for the trigger. You'll need something to bind it all together though, keep the magic stable. Just mixing fire ingredients doesn't automatically make fire happen, you need a proper anchor."

  "That's where the ashwillow comes in."

  "Smart boy. We keep a stock for the enchanters, actually." She disappeared into a storage chamber and returned with a bundle of grey bark strips, each one about the length of my hand. "This'll be three silver. You know how to prepare it?"

  "Steep it, don't boil it?"

  "Exactly. Boiling destroys the magical properties. Steep in hot water for thirty minutes, strain, add the liquid to your brew during fermentation." She handed me the bundle. "What you're attempting is ambitious. And dangerous. You got proper containment runes for that?"

  "I will."

  "Better make sure. Last fool who tried fire brewing without proper containment burned his eyebrows clean off. Took six months to grow back." She added the ashwillow to my growing pile. "That's eight silver total. And Gosdrunli?"

  "Aye?"

  "You be careful with this. Fire magic ain't something to mess about with. One wrong ratio and you could burn your insides out."

  "I'll start with small batches. Test everything carefully."

  "Good. I like you alive, Gosdrunli. You'd be missed."

  The sentiment caught me off guard. Nadra had always been kind to me, even when other dwarves kept their distance from the odd foundling. I managed a nod.

  "Now get out of my gardens," she added, grinning. "Some of us have actual work to do."

  I left her laughing, my box of embercaps tucked carefully under one arm, the pepperroot and ashwillow bark bundled in my pouch. The way back up felt longer than the descent, maybe because I was mentally calculating ratios and measurements.

  Twelve embercaps, dried. One fire pepperroot, made into tincture. Ashwillow bark for binding. The natural magical properties of the other ingredients should be enough without expensive fire essence. Base ale from cavern barley. Standard fermentation. Then the additions during secondary fermentation, timed carefully so the heat and magic had time to integrate without overwhelming the brew. It could work. It should work. If it didn't, I'd have wasted eight silver and a week of preparation. If it did work though, if the system appeared again and confirmed what I'd created...

  The walk back to my quarters felt long. My arms ached from carrying everything, and my mind raced with calculations. Three days minimum for the embercaps to dry. Another day to prepare the pepperroot tincture and ashwillow infusion. Day after that to start the base brew, then a week for primary fermentation. Ten days minimum before I'd know if this worked. I pushed through my curtain and set everything on my workbench. The embercaps went onto the drying racks Nadra had provided, arranged carefully so air could circulate. The pepperroot I'd deal with tomorrow, it needed to be sliced thin and steeped in strong alcohol to extract the essence. The ashwillow bark could wait.

  I sat on my stool and opened my notebook to a fresh page.

  Fire-Belch Ale - Ingredient Acquisition Complete

  Embercaps (common): 12, drying time 3 days minimum

  Fire pepperroot: 1 large root, needs tincture preparation

  Ashwillow bark: sufficient for 10 bottles

  Cost: 8 silver

  Remaining funds: 10 silver

  Days until Dulric returns: 11

  Timeline:

  - Days 1-3: Dry embercaps, prepare tinctures

  - Day 4: Start base wort

  - Days 4-11: Primary fermentation (7 days)

  - Day 11: Secondary additions

  - Days 11-14: Secondary fermentation (3 days)

  - Day 15: Bottling

  - Day 16: Testing

  Wait. That was sixteen days. Dulric returned in eleven. I scratched out the timeline and recalculated. If I overlapped the drying with tincture preparation, started the base wort on day three instead of day four, I could compress it. Barely.The math was tight. Very tight. One mistake, one contaminated batch, one failed fermentation, and I'd miss Dulric entirely. Have to wait another month to sell anything. No room for error.

  I stared at the revised timeline, my previous life's project management skills bleeding through. Critical path. Dependencies. Risk mitigation. All the corporate nonsense I'd hated at the brewery, suddenly useful for magical ale that made people breathe fire.

  "Status," I whispered, knowing it wouldn't work.

  Silence, as expected.

  Fine. The system wanted completed work, not planning. I'd give it completed work. In eleven days, I'd have Fire-Belch Ale. And then I'd see what happened.