EMILY WATSKEN
The lab was crowded as we prepared for Gideon's latest experiment.
Two Alacryan mages stood at one end of the central table, on which rested the salt-tray and a large fire salt ember.
The salt-tray had been set on iron risers so it was a few inches above the table, and a second tray full of coal sat below it. Although we hadn't started yet, the heat radiating down from the fire salt had already caused the top layer of coal to glow a dull red.
A third mage stood behind us. He would be providing a magical barrier during the test, keeping Gideon, Brone, and me safe from any unexpected results.
"And you're sure these two can regulate their mana output well enough for the minute adjustments required for this experiment to work?" Gideon asked Brone again, causing the mages to shoot him dirty looks.
Brone sounded almost haughty as he replied. "Though their crests aren't exceptional in battle, both of these mages have shown incredible control over their mana. I'm more than confident that they can do as you require, though I still don't understand why they can't cast from behind the barrier—"
"The calculations are too precise!" Gideon snapped. "They will need to output exactly the correct amount of wind and heat, with exactly the correct timing. Are you suggesting they can do this while sheltered behind a barrier of mana that is impacting both their perception and their casting?"
"No, I suppose they cannot," Brone conceded. His eyes flicked to the third mage.
Gideon grinned, which just made him look even more like a mad scientist. "Just a precaution, in case the Casters you've provided me aren't as good as you claim."
One of the mages turned on Gideon, his fists clenched, but a look from Brone kept him quiet.
"Enough flapping our gums, let's get to the fun stuff," Gideon declared, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to peer at the table. "Ignite the coals and bring them up to a blue flame. As soon as the flame turns blue, cast a tunnel of wind across the fire salts, and I'll give you instructions from there."
Everyone settled into their positions as the Caster with the fire-aspect crest conjured a flame into the coals. It flickered orange, then quickly went from red to yellowish green, then a light blue.
"A little more heat, about fourteen degrees, until the flames are just one shade darker…"
The mage began to sweat as he pushed mana into the flames. The moment the shade of blue changed, Gideon snapped, "There! Hold it there!"
I fidgeted nervously, picking at the hem of my loose, itchy shirt. The flames were too blue now. We had theorized that adding a certain amount of heat from fire-attribute mana and using wind-attribute mana to feed oxygen to the fire salts would result in a combustion effect, but the fire was several degrees too warm.
Should I say something?
Gideon's focus was entirely on the experiment. It was his theory. He had to know what he was doing…
The second mage pushed a concentrated tunnel of wind across the fire salt ember, causing it to blaze from bright orange to nearly white.
"Hold the flame!" Gideon yelped as the blue fire flickered. "Bring the wind up to twelve meters per second."
The mage conjuring the tunnel of wind scrunched his face in concentration as he attempted to both maintain his spell and hold it to Gideon's exact specifications.
Gideon pulled a pair of tinted goggles down over his eyes as the fire salt ember became too bright to look at directly, and I copied him. Brone shot me a curmudgeonly frown. Apparently Gideon had forgotten to give the Instiller his own pair.
"Shield, as many layers as you can sustain."
A translucent panel of mana appeared between us and the experiment, like a thick pane of glass.
Brone was shielding his eyes with his hand. Gideon had leaned forward so that his nose was practically pressed against the shield. Both Casters were squinting against the glare of the fire salt ember.
"Now, slowly bring the wind up to fifteen meters per second, and the heat by five degrees."
Despite the heat in the room, a cold chill ran up my spine, conjuring goose bumps along my arms and neck. With that much heat and wind being forced on the fire salt ember, it was going to—
The fire salt ember exploded with hot white light, burning my eyes and making my ears ring. The blast sent tremors through the reinforced floor and filled the lab with dust as the ceiling cracked. Even behind the shield, I felt the concussive wave. Although my eyes had snapped shut behind the thick tinted glass of my goggles, colorful dots were still burned into my retina.
"Vritra save us!" Brone yelped from the ground beside me.
I tugged the goggles off my face and blinked away tears until I could see again.
The lab was in shambles. Pieces of the salt-tray and table were stuck in the floor, ceiling, and walls. The tools had been fused to the rack. There were cracks in the stonework, and the door had caved outward slightly. Even the heavy metal furnace had partially collapsed from the force of the combustion. If not for the wards placed around the room, I was pretty sure the entire lab would have collapsed on our heads.
As for the Casters, there was no sign of them at all. Complete disintegration.
Brone, who must have stumbled and fell during the explosion, stood up and dusted himself off irritably, but when he stepped out into the room—beyond the clear line separating the blasted ruins of the lab outside our small, shielded corner—a slow, creepy smile spread across his ratty face.
Gideon cleared his throat. "I must have miscalculated slightly. Nothing a few more tests won't fix, I'm sure."
"Maybe the investment in this project will be worth it after all," Brone said vaguely, still looking around at the destruction. "Come with me, Gideon. I'd like you to explain the results first hand. Girl, clean this mess up."
With that, Brone marched out of the lab. Gideon gave me a knowing look and patted my shoulder, then followed Brone, leaving me alone with the pale-faced Shield, who was leaning against the wall in a limp way that suggested he was on the verge of backlash.
"You okay?" I asked tentatively. Normally I made it a point not to talk to any of the Alacryan mages I saw, but I just couldn't handle the awkwardness of standing in a room where two men had just been obliterated and ignoring the only other occupant.
The Shield pushed away from the wall and collected himself. "That mad bastard could have killed us all. You should thank the Vritra for my protection, undeserving as you are of it."
The mage stormed out of the lab, leaving me to stare after him, unsurprised but no less irritated.
Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the wreckage of the lab. I didn't even know where to begin. Everything was totally ruined.
"Well, you can't finish something you never start," I mumbled to myself before pulling a heavy-duty set of iron pliers from the tool rack—one of the few items that had survived the blast—and beginning the laborious process of removing shrapnel from the lab walls.
***
It felt like hours later when the door banged open and Gideon practically trotted into the lab carrying an armful of parchment. I'd made almost no progress, despite working my hands to the point of numbness.
Gideon didn't even seem to notice the state of the place. He simply brushed the dust and scorch marks off the stone workbench next to the furnace, pulled out a charcoal pencil, and began to scribble away.
"Well?" I asked, exasperated.
He turned to me and scratched his forehead, smudging himself with dark soot. "Well what?"
I just stared at him, sure that he'd get the point eventually.
"Oh, the meeting? Well, Oleander's patron seems quite enthused with the results, as they should be." He turned back to his writing. "You know, I think these fire salts have some real potential as a power source. The original design for the underground train system Arthur and I were working on relies on a similar steam engine to the Dicatheus, but a combustion engine powered by fire salts could be an order of magnitude more efficient, requiring significantly less bulk and allowing for longer running times without the need to bring on fuel…"
I blinked at his bent back. "You think your research is going to be used for trains?"
"Of course," he grumbled. "One day, it certainly will be."
Walking across the lab, I leaned on the workbench so I could see my mentor's face. "But in the meantime, it'll be used for weapons."
He set down his pencil and turned to me. "Everyone has their purpose, Miss Watsken, their reason for being. Mine is investigation and invention. Yours is to vex me and fetch the proper tool at the proper time, or occasionally a cup of coffee. There are others who are meant to fight in wars, to lead soldiers, to design stratagem.
"Most of them are dead, and the war they fought has been lost. So if you'd really like to see the world become a better place, you'll have to still be around to help create it. Understand?"
I nodded reluctantly, then frowned as I remembered something. "What about the instructions you gave those Casters? The input from both wind and heat was much higher than we'd theorized."
He raised his soot-stained brow at me. "Experimentation is often dangerous. We can only hope they send us even better mages next time."
With that, Gideon turned back to his papers.
Letting out a deep sigh, I took up my pliers and got back to work.