All The Turns of Light Read Free Page A

muted, if only slightly. Even Phillitrep’s Thinking Engine, which had spent five centuries tirelessly working on the solution to a problem the absent-minded Mage Phillitrep had forgotten to write down, slowed in the shuttlings of its silver levers and copper gears.
    Five steps, six, then seven, then eight!
    “This has been, by far, your best effort,” said Donchen. He turned, smiling, his grey eyes alight with mirth. “Had your lovely perfume not betrayed you, you might have made another five steps.”
    “Mistress!” Mug said. “I didn’t see you there, motioning me to be silent.”
    Meralda shrugged and laughed and crossed the Laboratory quickly before falling into Donchen’s lap.
    “I’m getting much closer,” she said. “Soon I’ll be as ghostlike as you.”
    Donchen drew her into a quick kiss. His agile fingers tugged playfully at the tight bun of her long brown hair.
    Mug groaned and rolled all his blue eyes.
    “I’ll just pretend to study something in yonder far corner,” he said. “Don’t mind me. Forget I’m here.”
    “We could never forget you, friend Mug,” Donchen said.
    Meralda stood and smoothed her skirt.
    “Yes, you’re far too loud, for one thing,” Meralda said.
    Mug turned all his eyes toward Goboy’s mirror, which leaned in its frame a few yards away. “Not to be the terrible burden I’m quite sure I am, but have you given any thought to replacing the flying coils on my carriage?”
    Meralda grinned. Mug’s ‘carriage,’ as he called it, was a secondhand birdcage she had fitted with a small trio of flying coils and tiny controls suited for Mug’s flexible fronds. Mug had quickly proven to be a skillful pilot, to the point where the crows around the Palace recognized the peculiar buzzing of the flying coils and gave Mug’s airborne birdcage a wide berth.
    Such was Mug’s enthusiasm for flying that he had burned out two of his coils in as many weeks, and Meralda lacked the time to wind and tune replacements.
    “I’ll finish the new ones tonight,” she said, pulling back her desk chair and sitting. She grinned at Donchen. “But first, let’s see that fascinating object you slipped into your right front pocket, shall we?”
    “You did not see me put anything into my pocket,” he said. “You couldn’t have. I wasn’t facing you.”
    “Which is why I sat in your lap,” Meralda said. “Remember not to use the words ‘burglary’ or ‘theft.’”
    Mug simulated a low whistle. “She’s got you,” he said. “You’d best surrender while she’s still smiling.”
    Donchen laughed and produced a folded white handkerchief. “A mere bauble, hardly worthy of your own radiant beauty,” he said, rising and offering the cloth to Meralda. “I hope it suits you.”
    Meralda took the tiny bundle, unwrapped it, and suppressed a small shout.
    “That’s the Romar necklace,” she said, gently lifting the glittering strand of jewels up so that it turned and sparkled in the light. “The Watch has been looking for this for years.”
    “Six years, I’m told,” Donchen said. “I’m sure they’ve quite forgotten about it by now. You could start wearing it tonight.”
    “The papers would love that,” she said. “Royal Thaumaturge Nabbed With Stolen Jewels.” She put the necklace down, still awed at the way it shone and sparkled. “So how did it find its way into your pockets?”
    Donchen shrugged. “Oh, I had an evening free, and a certain gentleman wanted his only daughter to be married in her mother’s necklace,” he said. “I read the original accounts of the robbery, and certain avenues of inquiry suggested themselves.”
    Meralda lifted an eyebrow. “Certain fifth-story windows as well,” she said. Donchen raised his hands in surrender.
    “Well, the hour was late, and I didn’t want to cause any alarm in the guilty household,” he replied. “It was only the work of a few moments. Later tonight, a parcel will make its way to a different house, and