All The Turns of Light Read Free

layabout foreman of yours to do four a day, or better,” he growled.
    “Yes sir.”
    “I mean tell him right now, son. Or do you want me to go find him myself?”
    “No sir! But—”
    Fromarch towered over the engineer and put a bony, oil-stained finger right on the tip of the younger man’s nose.
    “Do you know who I am?”
    The engineer blanched, but as Fromarch took a step closer, he turned and hurried away.
    “Now let’s have a real look at this glorified balloon, shall we?” said Fromarch, marching toward the nearest workman’s ladder. “See that they aren’t skipping anything important.”
    Shingvere shook his head. “He’s getting worse in his old age. But come along. We may as well keep him from doddering off and falling down a shaft.”
    “I woke up this morning determined to finish at least one of my projects,” fumed Meralda. “Just one. And now you two have me ready to illegally board a half-built airship for no good reason.”
    Fromarch bellowed from somewhere up above. “Well are you coming, Mage, or not?”
    “This is both the first time and the last time I ever set foot on this craft,” Meralda declared. “I mean it. Never again.”
    Both the old Mages nodded solemnly.
    With that, Meralda followed Shingvere up into the Intrepid’s bustling frame.
     

Chapter 2
    Back at the Palace, the Laboratory was quiet.
    Quickly, Meralda whispered the words that identified her to the Laboratory’s ward spells. She waited a single heartbeat, then twisted the worn brass door handles. They opened without even the faintest of noises—Meralda oiled them herself, once a week—and she slipped quickly through.
    Once inside the Laboratory she carefully closed the door, holding the latch up and then slowly letting it fasten without so much as a click.
    She stood perfectly still, not even breathing.
    Twenty steps away, Donchen and Mug hunched over a worktable. Both spoke in hushed tones. Donchen’s back was to Meralda, and all twenty-nine of Mug’s mobile eyes were fixed on the table. Meralda took a careful step forward, pleased that the cork sole of her new boot made no sound on the floor.
    I’m going to actually manage it this time, she thought.
    I’m going to sneak right up on Donchen.
    Meralda suppressed a grin. Weeks of careful sneaking had gotten her no closer than fifteen paces from Donchen before the ever-alert Hang gentleman sensed her approach. Meralda found this particularly infuriating, because Donchen often appeared noiselessly, catching her completely unaware. It was in his nature to be secretive and mysterious because he was sohata , a living ghost, silent and wary amid his Hang countrymen.
    Donchen laughed softly, freezing Meralda in her tracks, but he did not turn. Meralda remained still for a moment, watching and listening intently.
    “Mistress will have a fit,” she heard Mug say. “An absolute fit. I can hardly wait.”
    “Let’s just avoid use of the words ‘burglary’ or ‘theft,’” she heard Donchen whisper. “After all, neither term is strictly accurate.”
    Mug laughed. “Right. You just happened to climb into a window five stories off the street, you accidentally picked a Morten eight-tumbler safe in the dark, and you found this inside instead of the spare pencil you were looking for.” Mug’s leaves tossed as if in a gust of wind. “Why, that sort of thing happens all the time!”
    Meralda inhaled and started forward. One step, two steps, three steps, four…
    Mug saw her, of course, but she quickly raised a finger to her lips, and the enchanted dandyleaf plant pretended not to see her. She knew Mug was secretly amused by her campaign to sneak up on Donchen, and indeed he didn’t aim a single eye her way.
    All around her, the Laboratory seemed to hold its breath. Certainly the hundreds, the thousands of magical devices lining the Laboratory’s tables and shelves clicked and whirred and sparked and hummed. But it seemed to Meralda as if the usual cacophony was