schedule, and we are not currently engulfed in flames. Talked to Tower yet? He seemed quite smug. I gather he found a way to open the warded case.”
“I have not.” She took her seat and reached for Goboy’s Glass. “Shall we?”
She rapped on the mirror and Mug called out, “Wake up, old stones. The Mage is awake.”
The glass went black.
“Greetings, Mage,” said Tower. “I am prepared to open the Horn’s case, on your command.”
Meralda nodded. “Please do so. I know what we’ll find—an empty box—but there might also be a clue as to how the Horn was removed.”
“You may watch, if you wish,” said Tower. “I can send an image.”
Mug tapped the black glass. “Let’s see it.”
The glass flashed, and the interior of the Royal Laboratory was revealed.
Meralda’s heart nearly broke. “My Laboratory,” she said. Her desk, her rolling chair with its nice soft cushion, her favorite cups. “Oh! I forgot my good pen and there it is, lying beside my magnifying glass.”
Beyond her desk, the rows and rows of shelves extended off into the dark. But before the shelves, the familiar bulks of Phillitrep’s Mathematical Engine and Opp’s Rotary Timekeeper rose up, each whirling and twinkling and glittering as it moved.
The focus of the image shifted, racing away from Meralda’s desk and down Row 17. The view halted again, centered on the plain wooden crate to which a paper label was affixed. Amorp’s Strident Horn, Item AH11286, read the label, penned in Meralda’s precise hand. Below that was the date on which she’d sealed the crate.
“The ward spell appears intact,” said Tower. “I see no evidence whatsoever of tampering.”
Meralda instinctively began to extend her own magical Sight, but stopped when she realized she could hardly use Sight from aboard a moving airship so far from Tirlin.
“Troubling,” she said. “Proceed.”
“I am using a number of artifacts to achieve the opening,” said Tower, as Mingle’s Walking Servitor ambled into view. Its four mechanical legs tiptoed between the tall shelves. For one awful moment, the Servitor appeared to have gotten stuck between the shelves, but it kicked and shook and freed itself before coming to rest just below the Horn’s warded crate.
Como’s Agile Insect, a many-legged thing of delicate brass claws joined to a segmented body composed of silver springs, swarmed easily atop the Servitor and lifted the front half of its worm-like body so that its head was level with the crate.
“That thing gives me nightmares,” muttered Mug. “Why isn’t it locked in a box?”
“Hush,” Meralda said. “Well done, Tower. But how will you defeat the ward spell?”
“I shall not,” Tower replied. “Observe.”
A glowing red circle appeared on the image in the Glass, just to the right of the Horn’s box.
“When the circle turns green, please speak the Word of Unwarding,” said Tower. “I should be able to maintain a spatial congruency long enough for you to pronounce the entire phrase.”
“A spatial congruency?” Mug said. “Between two distant points, one of them moving?”
“It’s possible,” Meralda said. She took a deep breath and prepared to say the word. “Tower, I am ready.”
The red circle turned green.
Meralda spoke the Word. The circle quickly turned red again, but Meralda smelled, just for an instant, the musty, oily scent of the Laboratory.
“Done,” said Tower. “Observe.”
Como’s Agile Insect climbed up the side of the Horn’s case, wedged a pair of many-jointed brass legs into the space between the lid and the sides, and pushed the crate’s lid aside.
“Perplexing,” said Tower.
“Well move the focus, old stones,” Mug said, when the image didn’t shift to reveal the interior of the Horn’s case.
Tower obliged, and the view revealed the Horn, lying intact amid the packing straw.
“I don’t understand,” Meralda said. “Amorp only made one Horn.”
“Well, if he did, and
“I have not.” She took her seat and reached for Goboy’s Glass. “Shall we?”
She rapped on the mirror and Mug called out, “Wake up, old stones. The Mage is awake.”
The glass went black.
“Greetings, Mage,” said Tower. “I am prepared to open the Horn’s case, on your command.”
Meralda nodded. “Please do so. I know what we’ll find—an empty box—but there might also be a clue as to how the Horn was removed.”
“You may watch, if you wish,” said Tower. “I can send an image.”
Mug tapped the black glass. “Let’s see it.”
The glass flashed, and the interior of the Royal Laboratory was revealed.
Meralda’s heart nearly broke. “My Laboratory,” she said. Her desk, her rolling chair with its nice soft cushion, her favorite cups. “Oh! I forgot my good pen and there it is, lying beside my magnifying glass.”
Beyond her desk, the rows and rows of shelves extended off into the dark. But before the shelves, the familiar bulks of Phillitrep’s Mathematical Engine and Opp’s Rotary Timekeeper rose up, each whirling and twinkling and glittering as it moved.
The focus of the image shifted, racing away from Meralda’s desk and down Row 17. The view halted again, centered on the plain wooden crate to which a paper label was affixed. Amorp’s Strident Horn, Item AH11286, read the label, penned in Meralda’s precise hand. Below that was the date on which she’d sealed the crate.
“The ward spell appears intact,” said Tower. “I see no evidence whatsoever of tampering.”
Meralda instinctively began to extend her own magical Sight, but stopped when she realized she could hardly use Sight from aboard a moving airship so far from Tirlin.
“Troubling,” she said. “Proceed.”
“I am using a number of artifacts to achieve the opening,” said Tower, as Mingle’s Walking Servitor ambled into view. Its four mechanical legs tiptoed between the tall shelves. For one awful moment, the Servitor appeared to have gotten stuck between the shelves, but it kicked and shook and freed itself before coming to rest just below the Horn’s warded crate.
Como’s Agile Insect, a many-legged thing of delicate brass claws joined to a segmented body composed of silver springs, swarmed easily atop the Servitor and lifted the front half of its worm-like body so that its head was level with the crate.
“That thing gives me nightmares,” muttered Mug. “Why isn’t it locked in a box?”
“Hush,” Meralda said. “Well done, Tower. But how will you defeat the ward spell?”
“I shall not,” Tower replied. “Observe.”
A glowing red circle appeared on the image in the Glass, just to the right of the Horn’s box.
“When the circle turns green, please speak the Word of Unwarding,” said Tower. “I should be able to maintain a spatial congruency long enough for you to pronounce the entire phrase.”
“A spatial congruency?” Mug said. “Between two distant points, one of them moving?”
“It’s possible,” Meralda said. She took a deep breath and prepared to say the word. “Tower, I am ready.”
The red circle turned green.
Meralda spoke the Word. The circle quickly turned red again, but Meralda smelled, just for an instant, the musty, oily scent of the Laboratory.
“Done,” said Tower. “Observe.”
Como’s Agile Insect climbed up the side of the Horn’s case, wedged a pair of many-jointed brass legs into the space between the lid and the sides, and pushed the crate’s lid aside.
“Perplexing,” said Tower.
“Well move the focus, old stones,” Mug said, when the image didn’t shift to reveal the interior of the Horn’s case.
Tower obliged, and the view revealed the Horn, lying intact amid the packing straw.
“I don’t understand,” Meralda said. “Amorp only made one Horn.”
“Well, if he did, and
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