The late afternoon sun streamed through the narrow windows, highlighting burnished steel here, a copper hood there, glancing off waxed wood, letting mirrored surfaces send trembling patches of brightness to walls or floor. Jhegan ignored the play of light and shadow, tapping his teeth in thought. What had he learned? His grandfather had food and materials delivered to the village of Skive, at the very edge of the Wild. The dockets specified that no single parcel was to weigh more than eighty League pounds, while the letters were mostly ordinary matters of invoicing, payment and occasional commercial complaint. His grandfather had a fine turn of phrase in dealing with errant merchants, and acerb comments sprinkled his correspondence with Green Sea Mercantile and the Association.

Larger consignments had been stored for two or three days in Skive, but his grandfather had been able to take delivery of up to three loads in a single day. Jhegan’s knowledge of magic was limited, but he was familiar with the spell that nullified weight. One saw it used quite frequently on the streets of Dtlag, lifting loads or raising stones and timbers into place. Presumably his grandfather had employed it to bring things to this tower – hence the weight limit.

How far was it to Skive? Jhegan had seen magicians flying overhead, delivering mail to ships offshore or on errands for the Association. They were far faster than a horse, as fast as birds. He had picked up from his grandfather that only the most capable magicians could fly for more than a few hours, so three trips in one day, from the tower to Skive and back, implied a distance of at most a week’s walk, probably less. That still left direction, and the hazards of the Wild, but it was a start. He had another thought – he could not see kegs or lengths of timber being landed on the cupola and then handled down through a trapdoor and several flights of stairs. There had to be a lower entrance, maybe opened by one of the keys?

Then there were the other odd things around the tower – the rods, the complicated thing in the bottom drawer, the potions, the tools and such around the workshop. Commonplace magic Items, such as hearthstones, glowstones, scrying rings, counting frames and such were all very well. Everybody used them; they were hardly thought of as magic, really. The more rare or unique Items were another matter. Some were unpredictable, some dangerous. Jhegan was not keen to test the ones he had found without more knowledge.

Jhegan ate a solitary dinner thinking that, although he was used to his own company, he would find it hard to be be isolated out here. His grandfather must have been of the same mind, on the evidence of his ‘dear friends’ in Dtlag and the apartment on Foxglove Square. How was it they had not encountered each other about town? The old man must have taken care not to be recognised, most of all by his daughter. Perhaps he had passed his grandfather on the street more than once, all unknowing? On this thought he went upstairs to the bedroom. He would wash and sleep and see what further insights the morning brought.

* * * *

When he opened his eyes the next morning he saw the door he had been unable to open the previous day. Maybe there were more answers behind it. He drank his liani, ate some flavoured rice cakes and then fetched the keys. As a precaution he wrapped a cloth around his hand.

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The other doors in the tower were panelled affairs of plain wood, lightly varnished. This one was solid, with no visible handle or keyhole. Jhegan touched each of the keys to it, with no result. After some hesitation, he unwrapped his hand and took the smallest key between finger and thumb. It coiled around his fingers before he could shake it off, circled his wrist and then re-shaped itself into a stamp at the end of a rod, like a miniature cattle brand. When he brought it near the door the key quivered, then dragged his arm forward smartly, to imprint itself on the wood. A red glow ran around the frame and the door creaked ajar. Jhegan gingerly nudged it open and looked in.

Here was grandfather’s sanctum. A couch was positioned where the light from the one window would fall for comfortable reading. Three sketches of his grandmother adorned the walls – one of her young, one in middle-age, the last of her cheerful in older age. Clearly neither the years nor other company had lessened his fondness for her, which Jhegan found touching. His grandmother had been a skilled magician, and shared his grandfather’s passion for research. Jhegan had been in his teens when she had died in some sort of magical mishap. He was vague on the details; his aunt Hersinne had blamed her father, but his mother had told him only that the old lady had ‘taken one risk too many’.

What else was here? Three shelves held books neatly arranged. The top row were school and college texts on magic. His grandmother’s spell-books and diaries were on the second shelf, and his grandfather’s on the third, sitting together with a silver whistle and a small bag. The diaries might give him more clues. A lap-desk sat on a side-table. Jhegan opened it to find a sheaf of letters; here was more reading. A case mounted on the wall displayed several Items: a bell-mouthed affair very like a Saka battle-horn, a box with a glass lozenge spinning on a pivot, a metal bracelet, a tube with a red lever sticking out from one side. Four potions were tucked into the pockets of a shoulder belt hanging from a peg, with clips holding a brass knuckle-duster and a canvas pouch. A small silver jar glowed from a wall niche. Here was power – to someone who could use magic, and wealth – if he could get it to a buyer. Jhegan walked a circuit of the room, careful not to touch but looking closely at each object. He did not realise the door had closed for some minutes.

This was an interesting place, but the food was on the other side. He pulled out the smallest key and touched the door. It did not open. Jhegan frowned. He tried the middle key. The door stayed closed but there was a moment of blue light behind him. He turned his head and touched the key again to the door, to see a blue outline briefly appear on the opposite wall. A touch of the key on that opened another door, this one giving on to a vertical shaft. He leaned in a little, felt light-headed and pulled back before he could lose his balance. ‘Light-headed’ was exact – he had felt as if his head weighed nothing. Jhegan extended an arm, to find that weightless too. Rungs on the wall of the shaft extended up and down. He cautiously put a foot on one, tested it and then stepped into the shaft. Once in, the least effort propelled him upwards or, as he hastily tried, downwards.

He went downwards first. That way there was less distance to fall, and he was closer to the food. Down a floor, and he touched the key to a glowing spot to create a door into the kitchen. Success! He was not trapped. Down again, and there was an exit into the machine room. Another drop and he was standing on a cool stone floor. A shifting light played over the grey walls of the shaft from a small aperture at eye height. Jhegan bent a little to look and jumped back, startled. A slitted eye was looking at him! The eye moved away, something dark passed across his view and sunlight shone unobstructed through the tiny pane again. Jhegan now noticed a dim purple blotch on the outer wall. It was likely the large key opened a door to the outside, but he was not going to try if there was a creature prowling about.

He went up the shaft and confirmed that there was an exit at each level. At the very top was a small room with an array of mirrors. These showed the surrounds of the tower, east and west, north and south, and the tower itself, proud on its rock. Jhegan noticed a spidery form moving across the rock, long arms swinging from hold to hold. As he watched, it reached the trees and disappeared from sight. Clearly the journey back to his home would need careful preparation – and as many aids as he could gather. Jhegan retrieved the lap-desk and diaries from the study and settled down in the kitchen to read, a cup of liani at his elbow.