The next few days passed as uneventfully as any Gideon had experienced since coming to the castle. They delivered the spider webs to Cragsmouth, though it would take some time for the silk to be woven. Ondine worked on processing the remains of the spiders in her lab, and Gideon saw her only rarely. Melissa made her daily visits but spent most of her time roaming the wilds.

Unfortunately, Gideon made little progress in healing Chloe. Though he felt himself get close to channeling life mana a couple of times, sooner or later, unpleasant memories from his past always broke his concentration.

In hindsight, though he had once struggled with the fundamentals of geomancy, it had been much easier to focus on rock and stone.

There was also the matter of the rats. Gideon had gathered the rest of the Moonstone fragments and locked them in a cabinet in his room until he could figure out what to do with them. But when he asked Grimsby and Clonk why the rats might desire a Moonstone shard, they’d only looked at each other and said he should ask Ondine.

When he’d asked Ondine, she claimed to be too busy on account of the spiders. She’d promised to talk to him once she was finished preparing all of the blood, venom, and organs, but at the rate she was going, that would take a week or more.

Admittedly, they had killed quite a few spiders, minus the ones Melissa had eaten, but Gideon had the distinct impression the ghostly alchemist was giving him the runaround.

Then there was Uncle Kelvan, who had told Gideon to stop procrastinating and focus on his vitamancy training.

Why did no one want to talk about the rats? He couldn’t help but wonder. Gideon had no definitive answers, but his suspicions continued to gnaw at him.

Though he’d made little progress in vitamancy, he’d looked through his geomancy book, Digging Deeper, and studied the spell [Shape Earth]. He realized the technique was not so different from how he had used [Quake] in a targeted, direct way. [Shape Earth] was slower, however, and far more controlled—if [Quake] used his mana as a sledgehammer, [Shape Earth] formed it into a chisel.

He realized it would be a good spell to help them fix the castle gates, and repair the damage he’d done to his Uncle’s vault when fighting the spider broodmother.

Eager for a straightforward task he knew he could complete, he summoned Clonk and Grimsby to meet him in the castle courtyard.

Chloe had four days left of survival. For now, he tried to put it out of his mind.

As Gideon walked through the broken gate and towards the edge of the trail, he looked down at the wooded vista below them. He felt the morning breeze on his skin and realized the heat of summer was finally giving way to autumn.

His favorite season would soon be upon them.

He felt good—his stomach was full from breakfast, and his mind was buzzing with all the work they needed to finish to prepare the castle for its next guests and proper opening.

Behind him, Clonk wheeled their wooden cart over to the gate and pulled out a metal hinge. After delivering the spider webs, they’d purchased four from a smith in Cragsmouth.

The gatehouse had two wooden doors reinforced with steel. Though the metal on both doors was rusted, one of the doors had almost broken off its hinges and was barely hanging on. It was impossible to move at the moment, so the gate was always open.

“I have just one question,” Clonk said. “How will we keep the gate still while we fix it?”

“How was it installed to begin with?” Gideon asked.

“I don’t know,” Clonk said, shrugging his metal shoulders before turning to Grimsby. “That was before my time.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. Part of him had thought Sir Clonk might have been here when the castle was constructed. The idea that this place was older than even him was a surprise.

“Don’t look at me,” Grimsby said, throwing up his skeletal hands. “I also don’t know why I’m here, bub. If you think I can lift this damn thing myself, you’ve misjudged my talents.”

“We’re going to use your femurs as levers,” Gideon said, and Grimsby’s jaw clenched. “I’m joking, of course. Grimsby, you're here so that if the gate falls on me and Clonk, you can run screaming to Uncle Kelvan and Lady Ondine.”

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“I suppose that is within my talents,” Grimsby said after a moment of reflection.

“Clonk, you can lift it, right?” Gideon asked. “Just enough to take the weight off the broken hinges.”

“Aye,” Clonk said. “But I won’t be able to do much else with my hands full.”

“That’s fine,” Gideon said. He pulled his staff from its case then rested the crystal against the ground. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Clonk lifted the gate, causing it to creak and groan. Gideon took a deep breath and cast [Shape Earth] on the ground underneath it.

Carefully, he pushed the earth upward until it supported the gate. He raised the soil higher on either side, to keep the door from tipping over.

“Okay,” Gideon said. “You can let go.”

Clonk’s gauntlets fell, and he took a step back. Nothing moved. “Not bad.”

“Should stay there long enough for us to fix it,” Gideon said. “I hope.” He walked to the bottom hinge and examined it. The hinge was riveted to a metal plate on the inside of the door. Though the blacksmith had warned them that they’d need to heat the new rivets to replace them, Gideon had assured him it wouldn’t be necessary.

After all, he had magic for that. Though wood wasn’t a valid target for [Shape Earth], metal was.

Clonk took a prybar from the cart and removed the old hinges. With how rusted they were, they began snapping apart as soon as he applied any force. Clonk held the new ones in position as Gideon used [Shape Earth] to attach them. Lastly, he cast [Enhancement] on all the new metal parts. By the time he was done, the new hinges were gleaming. He hoped they would last.

Gideon would have liked to use [Enhancement] on the wooden parts of the door, too, but sadly, his spell wouldn’t work there. Since the wood had once been alive, he might have been able to do something using vitamancy.

Once he learned it.

They repeated the process for the other door—though it wasn’t as severely damaged, it was hardly in a good state.

After they’d replaced both hinges and Gideon had reinforced every metal piece he could see, he stood back and admired their handiwork.

He took a deep breath and cast [Shape Earth] again, returning the ground to its original height. Gideon watched as Clonk reached forward and grabbed one of the doors, moving it back and forth on the new hinges.

Gideon pumped his fist. Though it was a small victory, having a castle gatehouse they could actually close would be nice.

While cleaning up and loading the broken metal into the cart, Gideon spotted Melissa walking up the trail in her human form, and he waved.

She waved back hesitantly without meeting his eye. Ever since the Chloe business, Melissa had avoided talking to him.

“Hi, Melissa,” Gideon said when she reached them.

Clonk and Grimsby greeted her as well, Grimsby perhaps more joyfully than Clonk, who spoke in his usual flat tone.

“Hiya,” she said, then turned to Gideon and shook her head. “I can’t lose my pies. Sorry.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Gideon said.

The past few days, he had tried to get her advice, even promising her that Uncle Kelvan’s proposed kitchen ban was entirely unenforceable.

But she hadn’t been convinced.

Gideon watched as Grimsby and Melissa walked into the castle.

Clonk clapped his gauntlets together. “Now that that’s done,” he said. “When is the next dinner theatre?”

Gideon blinked as a memory flashed through his mind of waves of spiders crawling over the walls while the broodmother stood atop the gatehouse triumphantly. “You actually want to do that again?”

“I must confess,” the knight said, “I enjoyed it more in theory than in practice, which is all the more reason to try it again. After all, we could hardly do any worse than our inaugural performance. Not The Phantom of Wraithwood Manor, though. That was a terrible choice. I think it would be best if I picked my own material. No offense, Gideon, but you have no sense of what makes a good story."

Gideon grinned. “I’m not opposed to it, but you realize the gates wouldn’t have kept the spiders out anyway, right?”

“Of course not,” Clonk said. “But I suppose seeing it like this has me thinking. The castle has been quiet these past days, has it not?”

“It has,” Gideon agreed. “Ever since Marcus and his escort left. Well, maybe it should be held in the dining room. We could build a little stage there, don’t you think?”

Clonk stared at Gideon for a long moment, then nodded. “Ah, yes,” he said, his voice betraying, perhaps, a hint of excitement. For him, that was a lot. “Once we clean up two hundred years of dust, I suspect we could.”

“I don’t suppose Ondine would scream the dust away for us if we asked her nicely,” Gideon said, then snapped his fingers. There seemed no better time than now. “That reminds me. I’ll be right back.”

He ran to his room, then returned with a black, oblong box that he’d been keeping hidden under his bed. It was another thing he’d purchased in Cragsmouth the other day.

“Here,” Gideon said, holding the box out to Clonk.

The suit of armor hesitated before carefully reaching out and cradling the box as if it were a baby. He carefully removed the lid and then let out a whistle.

“I thought I was saving up,” Clonk said, seemingly at a loss.

“You still can, of course,” Gideon said. “But I thought, once we have guests again, you might want to host some stargazing on the overlook. I think there would be a lot of interest. Let me tell you, it’s much harder to see the night sky in the city. A clear view of the stars is precious and shouldn’t be wasted.”

Gideon recalled his first night at the castle when Clonk showed him the stars, including Lyraen, the Goddess of Longing. It had helped put him at ease during a difficult time in his life. He hoped it would do the same for others.

“Thank you,” Clonk said after a long moment.

Gideon smiled. “No need to thank me. It wouldn’t be much of a stargazing party with only one telescope, would it? Just think about it—Stargazing with Sir Clonk, Every Clear Night, After Dinner Adventures.”

“Dinner Adventures?” Clonk asked.

“I just think adventure sounds a little more exciting than theatre. And if the first time was any indication, it’ll probably be a more accurate name, too.”

Clonk carefully closed the box and slipped it under his arm. “Did you just think of that?”

“No,” Gideon confessed. “As the manager, I’ve been giving some thought to all of our future attractions.”

“All of them?” Clonk said.

Gideon grinned. “Just wait till I tell Grimsby about The Rattlebandit’s Recipe,” he said, laughing.