The Salacious Maiden hummed through the night sky, an hour from Groaza. Adalhard hoped to see the coast and the lights of Gotic soon.

Below deck, the Ferrans worked in the lounge. They wrapped layers of cloth around a ball made of lightweight reeds. Inside, the ball was hollow to ensure the large sphere was easy to carry. The cloth weighed a fair amount, embroidered in fine detail, spell layered over spell. The Ferrans were making a bomb.

The deepest layer of cloth was an imperfect version of the wormhole circle. The imperfection came in the form of a stray line of thread, marring the circle from inner to outer ring. The second cloth displayed a spell to burn the line of thread off the first. However, this spell too had an imperfection, one that the circle above it would also burn off. And, so on, and so on. These imperfect, limited range fire spells rose up through the layers, each positioned precisely over the other, until the final fire spell. This fire spell was also imperfect, but Inez had demonstrated that its extra threads could be removed quickly by hand.

Adalhard had never seen anything like it.

“A fuse,” Cernunnos mused. “Clever.”

“It’ll give us time to get away,” Eder added.

“Considering the limited testing, that’s probably a wise idea,” Adalhard said.

“We made a tiny wormhole already.” Eder looked up from the bomb. “It works.”

Eder referred to their spell test. Together, Inez and he had conjured a small wormhole above deck. It hovered in the air for a few moments, but traveling at such a fast speed, the Salacious Maiden quickly left the tiny portal behind. Unfortunately, a piece of the rigging passed through, and they lost one of the ropes that connected balloon to ship. Sylvia and Ginger complained and banned further wormhole creation. With results like that, Adalhard couldn’t argue.

Still, the test inspired the bomb, and with their embroidery machine, the Ferrans made the wormhole circle and its fuses. Impressive work, even more so considering the time frame.

“We’ll be in Groaza soon,” Adalhard said. “Keep working on it.” He retreated to his berth.

Cernunnos followed.

Adalhard turned to see Cernunnos close the door. They found themselves alone.

Adalhard sat on his bunk. “I would prefer to test this spell once more.”

From a nearby nightstand, he picked up a drawing of the spell, not the one they had taken from the ruins, but the revised version, courtesy of Inez and Eder.

“We saw it work. We can have Corentin and others test it once we get back.” Cernunnos crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“I took pictures of the embroidery. Corentin can have a look at those. If he does find a mistake, we may have to dismantle the bomb and redo it.”

Cernunnos nodded. “Yeah, don’t tell them that. They’re pretty proud of it. I figure we’ll leave the criticism to Corentin. They can grumble about his curmudgeonly ways. I’d rather him than me.”

The conversation paused, and in silence, both men studied the magic circle. The revised wormhole spell involved a complex set of seven rings, each ring of varying width and sectioned into smaller triangular shapes. Inez and Eder assured Adalhard that the details they removed from the original spell weren’t necessary. Those details would determine particular points in space, but if they weren’t concerned where the creature went, they didn’t need the extra. Adalhard thought the solution reckless, but he doubted anyone could figure out the positioning part of the spell.

Adalhard placed the picture back on the nightstand. Cernunnos’ words about criticism and Corentin nagged at him.

Adalhard put his elbows on his knees, letting his wrists dangle. “Cernunnos? You can’t always control what people think of you, and sometimes, they need the criticism. Maybe...” Adalhard let the unfinished words hang in the air. He thought of Camellia and how Cernunnos’ criticism could have helped her. He brushed a hand through his hair. “Nevermind.”

“No, no. I want to hear this.” Cernunnos waved him on.

Adalhard raised determined eyes to Cernunnos. “I think Camellia needed your input...for years. Don’t make the same mistakes with Inez and Eder...and other young people.”

Cernunnos lowered his gaze. “Yes, well, I messed up. But, I’m doing better. I’ve already started to criticize you.” Cernunnos smiled.

“That makes two of us.” Adalhard sighed. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes with Camellia.”

“You can fix it,” Cernunnos said.

“I will try,” Adalhard promised. “You know, even after all the mistakes you’ve made, I think she’ll still want to see you. After the way I’ve handled things…” Adalhard shook his head.

“Cheer up. You may be surprised.” Cernunnos crossed to his bunk and sat down. He looked out the window. He put a hand over his mouth and leaned against the sill.

Adalhard watched Cernunnos. He thought the man might be hiding a smile. Adalhard didn’t press for an answer.

Apparently, Cernunnos thinks that she’ll have a favorable view of me... Adalhard stroked his chin. …Because she wrote it in her note. I should have known!

As Adalhard scolded himself for the late realization, he smiled.

And, Ah’nee’thit picked me for high priest to replace Cahir because the monster chose someone Camellia wanted. Adalhard smiled wider. His confidence and desire for Camellia’s return grew. How oblivious I have been.

“What?” Cernunnos asked.

“Hmmm?”

“Why are you smiling? All cheered up?” Cernunnos gestured to Adalhard’s face.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

The men fell into silence again, and Adalhard planned for an eventual meeting between Camellia and himself.

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So long as she comes back. That wiped the smile off Adalhard’s face, but he continued to hope.

“You’ve constructed at a bomb that creates a wormhole at the pull of a thread, and you just decided to waltz in here with it?” Nicodeme Regle, the Groazan head of state, wore an expression that lacked amusement. He eyed the cloth ball with a kind of detached apprehension.

“Beautiful spell work. Simply beautiful,” Corentin, Groaza’s highest ranking mage, announced. Though he had studied them for three days, he peered closely at the pictures of both versions of the circle. “Wonderful that you had the foresight to photograph and sketch it before it was covered by the fuse spells.” Corentin looked at Adalhard, voicing his thanks. “And, the new version should work perfectly, minus the location selection. I don’t know how we would even go about doing that, but maybe, if we get an astronomer to study that part, we could use the original Volanter and choose a place to send the creature.”

Adalhard nodded. He sincerely hoped they could find someone to fix that portion, but he doubted a simple Iruedian astronomer could do so. Adalhard looked at Inez and Eder.

The Ferrans grinned and shifted uncomfortably, simultaneously enjoying the compliment to their spell writing and acknowledging their shortcomings.

“The bomb will work?” Regle asked. “We just don’t get to pick where we send the creature?”

“Right. We’ll definitely get a wormhole,” Corentin said, with a nod.

“But, we could send the creature to a populated place and pawn the problem on to another society,” Regle warned.

“Oh, I doubt that. Space is huge. I say we send the creature away, and if it becomes someone else’s problem, it won’t be ours.” Corentin smiled and shrugged.

Regle exuded annoyance. “What about the rest of the bomb? Will it detonate without a hitch?”

“Yes, I’ve looked through all the fuse spells. Fortunately, Adalhard photographed those as well. I believe that everything will be in order. Anyone who could transcribe and fiddle with the complex wormhole spell is unlikely to mess up a fuse.” Corentin beamed at the Ferrans.

“Right.” Regle turned to the anthropologists. “Good work retrieving the spell. I admit. I thought we were just delaying the high priest election by sending you two away. I didn’t expect you to bring something useful back.” Now, Regle looked at the Ferrans. “And, good work on the spell’s recreation. You are both very talented and have greatly assisted in reversing your guild’s mistakes.” Regle steepled his hands. “Now, we just have to find a way to use this bomb.”

Adalhard stepped forward. “I think we know exactly how to use it. We should send the small creature in Suen through whatever wormhole it creates.”

“No, no, we aren’t testing that spell anywhere in our lands – Tagtrum, Groaza, or Ponk.” Regle shook his head. “Corentin, could this spell create a permanent wormhole?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. But, I am a bit concerned about the duration and size of this version. I think the Ferrans might have added a bit too much.” Corentin gestured to the drawing and the rings that designated the spell’s size and timeframe. “I think it should be tested elsewhere...just in case.”

“Yes,” Regle added. “I agree. If we don’t know exactly how the spell will manifest we can’t test it in Tagtrum.”

“I see.” Adalhard frowned, stiffening. “What are you suggesting? That we need to locate an uninhabited place to test the spell?”

Regle smiled. “Precisely. We can’t test it near our people until we see how it works. So, we’ll send it to the big one. The one in this so called Lurrien state. Can you locate that place for our team?”

Adalhard’s eyes widened. “Yes, I believe Archaeologist Pater and I can use Zaris’ notes to do so.”

“Excellent. I hate to ask this of you, but would you and Pater be willing to accompany a small contingent of Groazan, Tagtrumian, and, possibly, some Ponk soldiers there? They may need an archaeologist to help them find their way around.”

Adalhard froze. He couldn’t believe Regle wanted him to follow in Camellia’s footsteps, at least as far as Lurren. Adalhard and Cernunnos exchanged a glance. Cernunnos nodded,

Adalhard faced Regle once again. “Yes, we’ll go, but I’d like to know exactly what you have in mind for this expedition. How long will we be staying that Lurren becomes an archaeological dig site?”

Regle gave them an understanding nod. “I want to conduct several tests with bombs of varying sizes and maybe even try to add the location component. Which leads me to my next request. Inez and Eder Ferran, I ask you to join our archaeologists in Lurren. We will provide you with any materials you need. You are the best people to create and test the bombs.”

“What?” Eder asked. “But, we’re not really battle mages. I don’t think we can handle this.”

Inez put a hand on Eder’s arm.

“I want to go home,” Eder added as final objection.

“I could go..” Corentin offered.

“No, you aren’t going anywhere.” Regle silenced Corentin with a cutting gesture. “Eder, I’m sorry to ask, but you are the two most cooperative Textilers. You are intelligent and capable, and our small army will protect you. The Lurrien monster is just a bigger version of the one your guild has kept captive, so arguably, you are the best prepared for this trip.” Regle paused. He stared at Eder.

Adalhard looked on too. Eder had grown teary eyed and looked younger for it.

Regle sighed. “I understand you want to go home, but that isn’t possible yet. I can promise you this should be the last of it.”

The hall grew quiet. Adalhard felt for Eder. He knew that Eder was the more reserved Ferran and Inez more adventurous, but Adalhard hadn’t realized just how much Eder needed a return to his stable life.

Inez stood. “We’ll go, but I want it in writing that we’re pardoned. In fact, I want it in writing that all of the Enchanted Textilers are pardoned.”

Regle drew a sharp breath. A long moment passed, and then, he nearly whispered, “Done.” He sat back in his chair. “If you can help defeat this creature, it’ll be a small price to pay. But, the condition is the creature’s complete demise.” Regle studied Inez and Eder.

Adalhard did the same. Inez’s confidence rose, but Eder remained downtrodden. In silence, Adalhard searched for the words to give the young man the same confidence as his sister. Maybe, there weren’t any. Adalhard caught Eder’s eyes and stared at him with apologetic concern.

Regle broke the silence. “We haven’t selected a team yet, and we’re still waiting on the Ponk representatives to arrive. So, I’m afraid we’ll have some time on our hands, but I have good news on the cultist situation.” Regle gestured for everyone to find a comfortable seat as he, Corentin, and Cernunnos were now the only ones sitting.

Inez and Eder complied. Adalhard was the last to find a seat.

Regle continued, “Good. Now, where was I? Oh, yes – the cultist situation. We’ve secured the creature Ah’nee’thit, and the monster hibernates. Every textiler has been located and albeit reluctantly assists with guarding Ah’nee’thit and catching cultists. We believe we’ve cleared the AAH of cultists. I’m afraid you’ve lost a total of one-hundred and twenty-six members.”

Adalhard winced. Cernunnos’ mouth dropped open.

“Yes, quite a lot,” Regle said. “But, the good news is that only five of them were infected, along with six mages. We’ve isolated those infected individuals, and we’re holding everyone else in prison. They rant and rave about Ah’nee’thit being the supreme ruler of the cosmos, but it’s harmless enough.” Regle waved his hand dismissively.

“How many mage cultists are there?” Cernunnos asked. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Fifty-eight. We still have a few of them missing, but we think we’ve found all the infected individuals.”

Adalhard had a question of his own, but first he marveled at the sheer loss to his guild. He wanted to calculate the percentage of AAH cultists vs. regular AAH members, but he would have to wait.

Adalhard straightened. “And, what about the Order of Agaric Healers?”

“All at large.” Regle lowered his gaze.

Corentin cleared his throat. “We’ve found several of their old hideouts, but they always escape. The good news is that only a handful of the Agaric Healers have joined Ah’nee’thit. We’ve been able to deduce that the majority of that group ostracizes Ah’nee’thit’s cultists. The bad news is that even those Agaric healers don’t have much of a moral compass.” Corentin laughed.

No one joined in.

The conversation continued, and Adalhard kept his ears vaguely focused on the topic. Otherwise, his mind wandered. Adalhard glanced around the gloomy room, with its tall, gothic ceilings. Some of the woodwork needed restoration, and Adalhard immediately thought of Camellia. She had more skill with restoration than he did. Most female anthropologists received more training in that area, so that they could take up background positions in museums and the AAH.

Adalhard wondered if Camellia really liked restoration or if she feigned that interest. When she came back – if she came back – he would find out what she did and didn’t like. He would get to know her better, and some day, he might know her best.