Page 20 of The Grip of Death
Beatrice waved her hand. “I already texted him. Sent him some photos, too. Something like, ‘Hey loser, look what you’re missing out on.’ He’ll get it. He won’t be mad, he loves me.”
Giuseppe clapped his hands once, quick and sharp. “The more, the merrier, I say. It was all about the noise, wasn’t it, boys? The turning of gears, the humming of machines, the banging of wrenches and hammers. All day, all night long. It would drive anyone else mad, but to an artificer, gods above and below, that was music to our ears. Music!”
Preston grinned, his eyes flitting between me and Giuseppe. I beamed back. It really just was like old times, if only at a smaller scale. Brick by brick, or flower by flower, as it were, we’d built this place back up again. Soon more people would file in, too, and the Halls of Making would rattle and clank and clash just like the good old days.
“I think I might almost be at my limit,” Lobelia said, chuckling. “Perhaps my kind are not accustomed to so much noise. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll be sure to return once you’re — ”
“Finished!”
I blinked at Giuseppe, stunned by his announcement. I looked down at my hands, somehow having forgotten that thenut I was tightening had already tightened as far as it would go. Impossible. Did we really just fly through all that? It was almost effortless, like playing a game.
The arcane engine clanked with every proud slap of Giuseppe’s hand. “Can you believe it, boys? The first real artificing project completed at the Halls of Making in a good, long while. A collaboration for the ages, too, I’d wager. The past and the present coming together.” He sniffled, running one grubby finger against his eye. “Your folks would be so proud, Jackson.”
A shiver ran down my spine. That was actually what had happened. We’d collaborated with Luciana and Octavian from beyond the grave. Chilling, in a sense, but I preferred to think of it as a way to honor my predecessors, what few ancestors I actually knew of.
I bit back sentimental tears as I scanned the grounds of the Halls of Making. My eyes narrowed as I imagined the many faces of the artificers who had fallen in the blast alongside my parents. This was a tribute to all of them. We’d rebuilt the guild to be taller, stronger, and most important of all, safer.
Lobelia ran her fingers along the ornate curves of our strange machine, nails clacking against gemstone as she inspected the interface, a crystalline control panel in the shape of a book.
“I’m sure you gentlemen have attempted to describe this device’s purpose to me many, many times in the past, and for that, I must apologize. Consider me still confused. What does it do, exactly?”
The light exploded from deep within my body, exiting as sparkles in my eyes. This was every artificing nerd’s dream come true: a captive audience, someone actually interested in hearing all the details.
But I knew well enough the importance of editing myself down before I bored anyone to death. Keep to the specifics, as itwere, only the most significant details of the project. These days I stuck to the rule of restricting it all to what I could say in a single breath.
“Just to keep it brief — which, with all due respect, Master Lobelia, is almost impossible for me — the arcane engine is designed to absorb and amplify a mage’s arcane essence. Theoretically it should enable the making of magic even greater than what an individual is normally capable of. Bigger spells than usual, but with less effort expended.”
Okay, so that was several breaths, but still good enough. Lobelia hadn’t died from boredom. I hadn’t actually expected her eyes to light up as brightly as mine in return. Something had just clicked for her.
“If there are no objections, could I possibly give it a go? If that’s not a bother, I mean. I’ve seen what you artificers can do with your work and it’s absolutely fascinating.”
How had I forgotten so quickly? She was one of the first mages to actually test the glass eggs that Niko and I had designed together. I hadn’t even opened my mouth to happily give her permission yet and Kaoru and Beatrice had already fallen in line behind her. Wow. Everybody wanted a turn with our new toy.
“Please,” I said, sliding away from the machine with a bow and a flourish. “Don’t let me stop you. Be my guest.”
She rubbed her hands together in delight, barely holding back a squeal as she stepped up to the arcane engine. Lobelia took a slow, deep breath, then flexed her fingers.
“Now, as a matter of intellectual curiosity, I’m sure you gentlemen would wonder the same. A little experiment.”
She extended her hand, the spaces between her fingers filling with vague, indistinct shapes, until her palm was filled with dozens of little teardrops. Silken petals flew from her hand, drifting on the breeze. Giuseppe clapped politely.
“It takes an insignificant amount of arcane essence to generate that amount of flora. A very fundamental, if showy spell that even the newest recruit at the Garland can demonstrate. To someone with more experience, like myself, the energy spent is but a drop in a bucket. I don’t mean to brag, of course, only attempting to illustrate the scale of the matter.”
She was totally right. I watched with intellectual curiosity as Lobelia approached the arcane engine and studied the control panel.
“Like this, then?” she asked. I nodded in encouragement as she placed both hands flat against the open pages of the crystalline book. “And I suppose I just infuse my essence into it. Like this?”
A rush of the arcane blew like wind from the open book, a ghostly projection of nonexistent pages flipping at an exhilarating pace as the engine processed Lobelia’s essence. Everyone oohed and aahed at the spectacle. A dramatic touch that the boys and I installed, just to give the device a little extra visual oomph. No big deal.
A flurry of flowers exploded into the air, Lobelia’s tiny, simple spell amped up by several orders of magnitude. More gasps went up from around us. Perfectly dramatic, and more importantly, glorious visual proof that the machine worked. It fucking worked!
Gods, I could almost feel Mom and Dad right there with us, watching proudly as one of their blueprints came to physical fruition. Lore and Whitby, I’d need to show them soon, too. They were beings of artifice, and this was what the magic of artifice could do. And Xander. Where was Xander?
A flock of paper cranes flew across the sky, radiating from the arcane engine in an unending stream even as Kaoru’s laughter filled the afternoon. I’d seen that little trick of his, folding an origami crane and breathing just enough life into the paper tolift it into the air, flap its wings to get around. But now, with the engine, he’d generated enough of them to white out the sky, sending forth gleaming flocks of little cranes in flawless formation.
“Me next!” Beatrice called out, almost colliding with Kaoru as she wriggled her way up to the control panel. Her palms met the glassy crystalline book, and more of the holographic pages turned in a frantic flurry.
Within seconds she’d sent colorful ribbons flying through the air, streamers of silk, swathes of iridescent fabric, all moving under her command. A few bursts of confetti, some floats, and a marching band and we’d have ourselves a full parade, right here at the Halls of Making.
