Fae stepped onto the rocky shore of the Cartographer’s Waystation and smiled.
This is where it had all begun for her — a drawing of the Waystation, seen by Mercury, had sent her on the adventure that had brought her through so many twists and turns, such triumphant highs and crushing lows.
In a way, the Waystation felt like home.
And it was just as she’d remembered it. In the midst of so much darkness and danger, the Waystation was a place of peace and safety. On clotheslines flapped sheets of paper, drawings set out to dry, and Fae smiled at that wonderful, nostalgic sound.
They had decided on the Hall of Reflections as their next destination somewhat tentatively. It was either there or Revue Palace, but Fae thought it might be best to investigate the Hall before going to Delilah’s Bastion.
Either way, the Waystation was where their journey would begin.
“So,” Mercury said in a slightly deeper voice, hands on her hips, surveying their group with unusual seriousness. “Who here has been to the Hall of Reflections?”
“Why are you being so serious about it?” Neptune asked, rolling her eyes. She raised her hand, as did Madeline.
“Just you two, huh?” Mercury asked. She looked at Toryu. “You’ve never been?”
“I have been to many Locations, but not the Hall of Reflections,” Toryu said, puffing on his pipe.
Mercury nodded thoughtfully. Hands still planted on her hips, she looked at Neptune and Madeline. “All right, then. Tell us about it.”
“Only if you stop acting like you’re the leader,” Neptune said.
Mercury pursed her lips, and then dropped her hands to her sides, her shoulders slumping. “You’re not even gonna guess what character I’m pretending to be?”
“We know,” Jupiter said, “and the rest of them don’t need to.”
“It was a somewhat lacking performance,” Neptune said.
“Well excuse me for not being seven feet tall with super broad shoulders and a deep gravelly bass voice,” Mercury said, pouting. That pout swiftly turned to a smile. “All right, that was a fun attempt. But we should hear at least a little about the Hall of Reflections before we start going there, shouldn’t we?”
“I’ve been there twice, but never for very long,” Neptune said. “It’s full of mirrors, which offer you visions of… all sorts of things. They reach into your mind, pulling out memories or desires that you hold dear. Sometimes they mix them both. Maybe you see a friend you had a falling-out with as if that never happened, as if you’re best friends for life. Maybe you see someone you lost long ago, a family member or loved one, as if they’d never passed. You get to see what life might have been if they hadn’t left you so soon.”
“That’s… what I saw,” Mercury said in a soft voice. “My mother. She… she passed away from illness when I was very young. I only have a few brief memories and impressions of her, but the mirrors… they showed what life might have been if she’d never passed. For me… and for my father. It… was difficult to leave.”
“So it’s a trap?” Jupiter asked. “Tries to keep you there forever by showing you what you want most?”
“It isn’t a malicious place,” Neptune said. “But I think the Cartographers can explain it better. Come on.” She smiled as she started up towards the Waystation. “It’ll be good to see the Meister again.”
“I’ve been here before,” Ciel said. He held Madeline’s hand, gazing up at the white sky with a nostalgic glimmer in his blue eyes. “Long, long before the Sanctuary.”
“Maybe someone here remembers you?” Madeline suggested.
“Too long,” Ciel said. “But that’s all right. I remember.” He smiled as he and Madeline started walking up the slope together.
A warm breeze gusted across them, ruffling the maps hanging out to dry. A Cartographer in her elegant white coat bustled out of the front door with a bundle of maps in her arms. She spotted Fae’s party and immediately ducked back inside. A moment later, out came Meister Roderick, a warm smile on his narrow face, his eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. “Well, this is a welcome surprise!” he said in his kind, reedy voice. “Your party has grown since last you visited. Do come in.”
“It’s good to see you, Meister,” Mercury said, beaming. “I hope you’ve got lunch ready. We’re kind of eternally starving.”
“She’s exaggerating,” Neptune said, pushing Mercury ahead. “But if you’re willing to provide us a small meal, we certainly wouldn’t refuse.”
“You always have the best food,” Jupiter said, grinning.
“Oh, you know I wouldn’t besmirch the Cartographers’ reputation for hospitality,” Roderick said with a chuckle. “You’ll be well provided for, you can count on that.”
In they went, one by one. Ciel stayed close to Madeline, and Toryu brought up the rear, pausing outside to talk to Meister Roderick for a moment. Then they came in, too, and Roderick showed them to a round table in the corner, he and another Cartographer pulling over extra chairs so everyone had a seat. Roderick sat with them as a pair of Cartographers brought over platters of sandwiches. Mercury and Jupiter dug in greedily, while Fae, Neptune, and Sonya explained their situation.
“We thought we should go to the Hall of Reflections first,” Fae said. “But if you have any thoughts about everything else, that would help a lot.”
“To the Hall of Reflections, hmm?” Roderick mused. He called over three Cartographers and requested several maps and time tables, which were brought over promptly and spread out on the table. “This… may be tricky. The Hall of Reflections is usually a challenging Location to reach. It was a surprise that you passed through there on your journey to find Fae, Madeline, but then, your route to her was profoundly atypical.”
“Thirteen Locations between here and there,” Olivia said, looking over the time tables. “And… it looks like it’ll take a while.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Roderick said. “But you don’t have to leave immediately, which gives a bit of time for us to talk about your other concerns. But goodness, you have been busy.” He smiled warmly. “Word had reached us of a few of your exploits — Julia Diamond credited you and your discovery of Maxwell’s book in her own book on Collapse, and the people of the Crimson Docks have spread word far and wide of your curing of the Fates. But to think you had accomplished so much more beyond that… well. I doubt anyone would have ever expected such feats from you at the start of your journey.”
“They wouldn’t be alone,” Fae said. “I never expected anything like this.” A smile came to her lips, bolstered by the warm admiration she felt through her bond with the other six girls.
“Julia already wrote a whole book about Collapse?” Mercury asked. She whistled, impressed. “She’s speedy.”
“Oh, not as speedy as you might think,” Roderick said with a chuckle. “Starlight Spires experienced a brief temporal flux, so more time passed there than where you have been.”
“Temporal flux?” Fae asked.
“Distortion,” Ciel said with a knowing nod. But he didn’t elaborate.
“A larger scale phenomenon of what is always occurring within the Enchanted Dominion,” Toryu said. “Time doesn’t flow exactly the same across Locations. Usually it’s subtle. But Locations can occasionally experience a temporal flux, where their time either rapidly advances or rapidly slows for a period of time in relation to the rest of the universe. Enchanted don’t notice it much, but it can be jarring for Humans, depending on how long it lasts.”
“It was only a brief flux,” Roderick said. “But it was enough for her to start and finish her book in the time it’s been since you met her at the Mourner’s Collection. Though keep in mind, she is a student at Starlight Academy. That book was her research project last semester, so she was writing on a very strict deadline.”
Sonya shuddered, and Fae could feel a wave of revulsion ripple through their bond. “Deadlines are necessary, but writing a book in a single semester? No, thank you.”
Mercury chuckled. “We’ll have to go check it out if we’re ever back in Starlight Spires.”
“We have to go back eventually,” Fae said. “I want to visit her when we have a chance. To thank her again, and to let her know that Collapse has been destroyed.”
“She’s gonna wish she’d heard about that before writing her book,” Jupiter said with a sympathetic sigh.
“Regardless, you’ve all been through a great deal more than anyone realized,” Roderick said, “and accomplished so much.”
“And there’s still a bit more to do,” Fae said,” and make sense of. We need to turn our Key out of the three when the time comes, but we also have to help the people of the Palette in the Clouds. Even though Shana’s the Dreamer, apparently the Fates told them that we —” she indicated herself, Olivia, and Sonya, “are the ones who will ‘show them the way back to the Waking World, when the time is right.’ But I don’t know how we can do that, or what that even means.”
“You will guide them back to the Waking World, not the Dreamer,” Roderick murmured, nodding thoughtfully. “Intriguing. I’m not sure what it means, either. But if the Fates proclaimed it, then it must be so. Tricky, the Fates can be, rarely providing all of the details one would like. But knowing what you must do is the best starting point you can have. Rather than being handed random pieces of an unknown puzzle, you are given the guide to the puzzle — the whole picture. It is now up to you, and anyone who can aid you, to look deeper into the full picture, to make sense of the details.”
“Your metaphors are always so charming,” Mercury said with a smile.
“And there’s also this,” Madeline said, showing Roderick her message in a bottle, the image of the Key in its pedestal on a stage surrounded by mirrors, with the word “Finale” written beneath it. “Is there somewhere like this in the Hall of Reflections?”
“The Chamber of the Key,” Roderick said in an awed murmur. He shuffled around the maps on the table, bringing to the top one labeled just as he’d said. It showed a series of passageways, a virtual labyrinth, with one passage leading up to a solitary chamber that looked quite like a stage surrounded by mirrors. “Here is where you’ll want to go. Although, despite being able to map it… we don’t know how you can get there.”
“You just go up that path,” Jupiter said, pointing at the path that led to the stage.
“Obviously they’ve tried,” Mercury said, swatting her hand away.
“We have,” Roderick said. “And the passage exists. The chamber itself exists, too. But… we cannot make the two connect. It is… puzzling. But you brought up Revue Palace, and that Theater of Reflections that your sister discovered. Perhaps that is the way there. It’s all very puzzling.”
“Then should we go directly to Revue Palace instead?” Sonya asked.
“I don’t think so,” Fae said. “I still think we should investigate this place for ourselves. Maybe we can find something no one else did.”
Madeline nodded. “The more we know, the more equipped we are to make the right decisions about whatever surprises come our way,” she said.
“And I think we can get to the Hall of Reflections faster and easier than expected,” Neptune said. Ever since the Cartographers had brought over the maps and time tables, she’d been poring over them in silence while the others talked. “Meister, look here. There’s a door opening to the Hall of Reflections from Renault at 327:56:85. Couldn’t we go that way?”
“Renault?” Roderick asked. He looked at a few time tables, and his eyes lit up. “Oh! But of course! If we follow a more unconventional path, that won’t take you long at all. It’s almost direct.” He chuckled. “I do apologize. Going from the Human Realm to the Enchanted Dominion, and then back again in order to go back once more to the Enchanted Dominion, is not usually an ideal course of action. But here, it’s perfect. The times line up just right. You can leave from here for Renault, and then take the indicated door beneath Renault’s Time Tower at the correct time, and you’ll be in the Hall of Reflections in… oh, what would that be by Earth reckoning?”
“Less than half a day,” Neptune said with a smile.
“Yes, yes, that’s much faster than any other option,” Roderick said, nodding approvingly. He shuffled through the maps and time tables. “Wonderful! Now, let me just get a copy made for you of the maps of the Hall of Reflections, so you can engage in informed exploration. And do be mindful. Neptune and Madeline already know this, but the Hall of Reflections can be… entrapping. It means no ill will to anyone, but its very nature invites unintentional extended stays.”
“It’s easy to get caught up in what the mirrors show you,” Madeline said, nodding. “It was hard to stay on task. And… painful, to leave, after seeing what it showed.”
“Then I shall simply have to do my best to distract you,” Toryu said with a chuckle.
Roderick left them for a little while, talking to other Cartographers and working to get some copies made for Fae’s party. While he did that, the girls ate, Toryu puffed his pipe, and Ciel gazed at the Cartographers going about their work.
“It doesn’t change,” Ciel said. “The people change, but the place and their work does not. It’s comforting.”
“It really has been a long time since you were here, huh?” Mercury asked, smiling at the boy. “Do you know how long?”
“Time is difficult,” Ciel said, shaking his head. “For too long, I was something like a ghost in the Silver Star Sanctuary. I lost track of all time then. And I am not entirely who I was.” He looked down, fiddling idly with his hands. “It’s all very complicated.”
“Want to talk about it?” Madeline asked.
“Maybe,” Ciel said. “A little. I’m not sure.” He shrugged his small shoulders. “I am the last draciel. And I thought I would be forever a ghost in the Sanctuary. Who I am, what I am, I’m not sure it matters anymore.”
“It always matters,” Olivia said. “Without knowing who and what you are, you can’t know what your life should be, or where you should go.”
“What does it mean to be a draciel?” Sonya asked.
“It meant something before the Sanctuary, before I was the last,” Ciel said. “Now… I am unsure. I am not Human, or Enchanted. Not Halfchant, or Eternal. Not Dragon. I am… different. Unique. Something that no longer exists anywhere else. I’m still trying to understand what that means.”
A ripple of thought flickered through the girls’ bond, in Mercury’s voice: “Wish he could just tell us what a draciel was back when there were a bunch of them.”
Fae could understand the sentiment. Ciel wasn’t much for direct explanations. He knew far more than he said, but the reason he didn’t say all that he knew wasn’t, Fae thought, intentional, and certainly not malicious.
I’m not sure he knows how to tell us everything. He’s been through more than we know.
To Fae’s thought came Neptune’s psychic reply: “I think I understand some of it. I… was also trapped, a ‘ghost’ like him. Not as long as he was, but long enough. It takes its toll.”
“But you still seem totally fine!” Mercury said through their bond, and Jupiter backed her up.
“Well,” Neptune replied psychically, and rather dryly, “I’ve always been good at guarding my emotions from others. But I thought my sisters could read me like a book.”
Mercury leaned aside, wrapping up Neptune in a hug. “Guess I don’t know you as well as I thought — even with a super-psychic link.”
“I lost track of time in the Sanctuary, too,” Neptune said, nodding to Ciel. “But… more than time.”
Ciel nodded. “More than time,” he echoed.
“What do you know about draciel, then?” Mercury asked, turning her attention to Toryu.
“I am as much in the dark as Ciel here,” Toryu said, chuckling as he puffed on his pipe. “I’m surprised, too. Draciel is in that ancient tongue that is so tricky to translate into mortal languages. It does, of course, have something to do with Dragons. Beyond that… I am unsure. Its meaning implies a ‘watcher,’ or a ‘warden’ of some sort. Perhaps. It is not a word I am familiar with.”
“But you’re the daddy of all Dragons,” Jupiter said. “Doesn’t that mean you know everything there is to know about Dragons?”
Toryu removed his pipe from his mouth and tapped it twice against his scaly forehead, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “The mind, my dear, is a tricky thing. Particularly for the few immortal beings there are. This realm is, fundamentally, a mortal realm. For the few of us that live forever, our minds contain more experiences and information than you can fathom. To sort through all of that, to make sense of it, to remember all of it, becomes harder and harder the more time passes. If I do know what it means — or meant — to be draciel, I cannot seem to recall that information.”
“Who knew immortality was so complicated?” Mercury asked. She sighed. “I wish we could at least get some kind of explanation.”
“I would like to explain it,” Ciel said with a nod and an utterly sweet, charming little smile. “Hopefully I can if I think about it more. I’ve been trying to understand myself. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you don’t need to apologize,” Mercury said, smiling back at Ciel.
“You always did have a soft spot for kids,” Neptune said.
Roderick returned, bringing order back to the chaos. He showed them the copies of the maps of the Hall of Reflections, and together with Neptune explained their layout and what certain icons and symbols meant for reading Cartographer maps.
They talked a while longer, but unfortunately, Meister Roderick didn’t know anything about the other items of their quest. The book from the Fates was a mystery to him, though he thought of it much as Fae did — the Fates had said she would know when the time was right to open it, so she should wait until then, and discover what lay within. But he did say that he had never heard of such a gift being bestowed by the Fates. Knowledge, yes, and often that knowledge was written down by its recipients. But a book already written, and locked, waiting for a specified time? That was, as far as Roderick knew, completely unprecedented, and he had no idea what to make of it.
“Well, the Fates did say you were their favorite human,” Mercury said, grinning at Fae. “And that they’d never played favorites before.”
As for the Palette in the Clouds, Roderick had a few new thoughts, though no explanations for the mysteries surrounding the city. “If they departed to Dreamworld to protect the Key, it is strange that they would ever seek to have their city returned to the Waking World,” he mused. “Perhaps a great change is coming with the turning of the Key, beyond what you intend to use it for. I do not know.”
Despite not making much headway on their other objectives, spending time with Roderick and the Cartographers was always welcome. The food was delicious, the company charming, the atmosphere relaxing. When it was time to go, Fae and her companions left refreshed and ready for what came next.
There was, however, a certain undercurrent of anxiety from Olivia and Sonya. Renault, the city of their birth, was their next destination. Neither of them had expected to go back so soon.
“It may only be for a short stay,” Sonya said, pausing on the porch, “but… I think that makes it more difficult.”
“What’s difficult about it?” Mercury asked.
“I do eventually intend to go back,” Sonya said. “But I wanted that to be after our quest was completed, when I had time to properly be there and, perhaps, make a home of it for myself again.”
“I felt the same,” Olivia said, her head bowed beneath her hood. “But it might be nice to be there again. I suppose it could be… like a prologue. Before our next chapter properly begins.”
Sonya managed a smile at that. “That’s one way to think of it. Yes, perhaps… I can work with that.”
“Either way, it’s where we gotta go,” Mercury said. “Everyone ready?”
“You guys are way too slow!” Jupiter called, already down at the shore, bouncing on the balls of her feet, waving frantically.
“At least someone’s excited,” Neptune said, starting down the slope. She had a bit of pep in her step — they all did. All of them could feel Jupiter’s excitement now, and it was uncannily infectious.
“I love Renault,” Ciel said with a smile. “Winter suits me, I think.”
“You’re in good company, then,” Madeline said. Fae, Olivia, Sonya, Mercury, Neptune, and Jupiter all nodded.
“I’m partial to warmer climes, I must admit,” Toryu said, his cheer undiminished. “But there is an appeal to Renault’s wintry chill.”
“Maybe we can visit some tropical land before our journey’s over to balance things up,” Mercury said with a grin. “Gotta find a good balance, though — Jupiter’s wasted in too much heat and humidity.”
“Emphasis on humidity,” Jupiter said, still bouncing. “And who cares about that right now? Places to go, let’s go!”
One by one, they assembled on the shore of the Waystation, thick green water lapping gently across the sand. Everyone waited for Fae’s lead, so she stepped forward first.
She stood on the rocky, sandy shore of the Cartographer’s Waystation. And with a single step…
She arrived in Renault.
The gentle warmth of the Waystation was immediately replaced by the coldest winter Fae had ever experienced. She’d thought Grimoire had long, cold winters — and she loved them — but this was something new entirely. Her nostrils immediately froze shut, and she shivered from head to toe even in her warm winter coat and cozy, lined boots. She tugged her hat lower and pulled up her scarf to cover her mouth and nose.
But even with the discomfort, she found herself smiling. All around her was a winter wonderland, a wonderland unlike any in the world, for Renault, this hidden city of mages tucked away in the most forbidding part of the Antarctic tundra, was the capital of magitechnology. Ringed by a great wall to protect it from the threat of gigantic Stalkers, the city was a fantastical wonder, full of gleaming skyscrapers forming a glittering skyline of white and silver. In the center rose the tallest of them all, Renault’s Time Tower, a dizzyingly tall clock tower that also had many other clocks and markings to chart time as a whole, showing not just the hours, minutes, and seconds, but the days, the months, and the years.
But this wasn’t just a city of skyscrapers. Thanks to either lax or entirely nonexistent zoning laws, the city’s layout was fascinating, with massive spires right up against simple two-story shops, restaurants, and homes. And while down here on the ground level was where the most traffic was, it wasn’t the only layer to the city — great bridges spanned between skyscrapers at three separate levels, reminding Fae of Starlight Spires… and Wasuryu’s city.
She tried not to think about that.
Besides, there was another layer to the city that was entirely unlike any other Fae had ever seen. There were, dotted throughout the city, circular metal panels on the ground, large enough for three or four people to stand together. Whenever someone stepped onto a panel, it blazed with light, and a moment later, the person or people vanished, transformed into motes of verdant light that shot up into the sky, to one of a series of massive silver globes that floated in the sky high above the city. The Cardinal Project, Fae remembered Jupiter calling it. Four globes, one in each cardinal direction. Though what purpose they served, Jupiter hadn’t said.
It was all so beautiful. And this was Fae’s first time really experiencing it, she realized. When they’d come here together before, her body had been piloted by the Sojourner. She hadn’t been able to feel the cold, or smell the aroma of cinnamon, and peppermint, and chocolate in the air. She hadn’t been able to feel the snow crunch beneath her boots, or savor in warmth as her face, now guarded by her scarf, slowly thawed.
“Now this is heaven on earth!” Mercury said, stepping out next to Fae and spinning in a circle, arms outstretched, beaming her perfect smile.
“Thank goodness we left in winter clothes,” Neptune said, joining them. She reached out into a small Conjuring portal, pulling out a scarf and wrapping it around the lower half of her face like Fae. “And thank goodness for Conjuring Magic.” With her scarf wrapped around her face, the right side of her hair fully covered the right side of her face, but her one visible eye crinkled in a pleased smile.
Everyone else popped into existence with them, and Jupiter immediately raced ahead of the rest of them to the edge of the street. She wore a headband instead of a hat, and her spiky red hair began to collect white flakes of the gently falling snow. She turned to face the rest of them, a determined gleam in her eyes, an excited smile on her face. “All right!” she said. “Neptune, how much time do we have?”
Neptune pulled out a spherical device on a chain and opened it up to reveal a pocket watch that tracked Universal Time. “Four hours and fifteen minutes.”
“Great! Then listen up, everyone — we have a mission to accomplish in four hours and fifteen minutes!” Jupiter said.
“Hold on, what?” Mercury asked. “Did I miss something?”
“Nope, because I didn’t tell anyone until just now,” Jupiter said. “But I had a brilliant idea. This is the capital of magitechnology — even the Enchanted Dominion can’t compare. All of the greatest innovations are born here. And that means, if we’re ever going to find a solution for what ails our fearless leader, it’s going to be here!” She turned her determined gaze on Fae.
“You… think you can find a cure for me here?” Fae asked, too stunned to refute the “fearless leader” moniker ascribed to her.
“Why do you think magitechnology can heal what the Orphan of the Dawn couldn’t?” Sonya asked.
Jupiter chuckled, and all of them could feel through their bond just how proud she was that she’d thought of this objection ahead of time. “Because magitechnology is what inflicted this on Fae in the first place,” she said. “Wasuryu used grotesque machines, not ordinary magic, to do all the terrible Vessel stuff. Magitech transformed Fae, and magitech can transform her back to normal.”
Fae’s eyes widened. Her heart raced. All of a sudden, she was so nervous, so anxious. This was all so sudden, but… was Jupiter onto something? Could her cure be found in Renault?
And could they find it in just four hours?
“Okay, that’s pretty brilliant,” Mercury said, “but. Where do we even start looking? This city’s huge — you can’t walk across the whole thing in a day like Grimoire, and certainly not in four hours.”
“The Magi-Med District!” Jupiter said, starting down the street. “Come on, everyone! We’re gonna save Fae!”
Mercury raced after her, excitedly chatting, and Neptune soon followed. Then went Sonya, Madeline and Ciel, and Toryu.
“Are you all right?” Olivia asked, remaining with Fae, who, stunned as she was, stood rooted in place.
“I…” Fae started, and the ripple of her unease spread to the rest of the girls, who turned to look back at her. “I just… I don’t… want to get my hopes up. It can’t be that easy, can it?”
“Maybe not,” Jupiter said, coming over to her and holding out her hand. “But this might be the best chance of finding a way to restore your body. Don’t you want to take it?”
Slowly, hesitantly, Fae took Jupiter’s hand. Jupiter squeezed tight, grinning. “Right. Let’s go!” she said. The physical contact emphasized the bond between them. Fae suddenly saw Jupiter like a star, shining bright with stunning, infectious hope and optimism.
Jupiter, surprisingly, led the way as if she knew the city’s layout better than Olivia or Sonya. And, as it turned out, she did. “I’ve studied maps of Renault over and over,” she said. “And books about the city, basically anything I could find. This may only be my second time here, but I know exactly where to go.”
“That’s helpful, since I’ve never been to this ‘Magi-Med’ District,” Sonya said. “Does it specialize in medical magitech?”
“You got it!” Jupiter said. “Technically the district’s called ‘Corianus,’ named after a huge pioneer in the magitech-medical field, but everyone just calls it the Magi-Med District. And it’s not too far from the Time Tower, so we don’t have to set aside too much time at the end to make it to our door.”
The Magi-Med District was helpfully marked by numerous signs, and was nestled between two other major magitech-focused districts. This area of the city had a different feel from the rest of Renault. Sleek, clean appeal was traded in for a grungier, more improvisational set of neighborhoods. Buildings came in all shapes and sizes. People hung on lines from the walls of buildings and worked on mysterious exterior piping with even more mysterious tools. There was a lot of exposed piping and big, chunky electrical boxes. Clouds of steam hissed out periodically from bulky grating.
There was a bit of a steampunk aura to the place, Fae thought. Most of Renault was silver and white, shocks of color mostly due to flowers or special banners and signs for shops, but here there was color everywhere, a sometimes muddy, sometimes vibrant symphony of greens and blues, oranges and yellows, reds and purples, blacks and browns. It was also a bit of a mess, with soot and grease stains here and there, almost every building in some state of repair or remodeling. Large, open metal crates that looked a lot like dumpsters were on every street corner, but were all labeled “RECYCLING — FREE PARTS” and were filled to the brim with all sorts of strange parts, metal pieces, and tools. Wooden stairs were set up on either side of each of these metal crates so that people could walk up and take a gander. The lines were long, and nearly everyone was either tossing something into the bin or walking away with something.
The clothing here stood out from the rest of the city, too. Lots of overalls, suspenders, and oversized tool belts were seen, hallmarks of mechanics and engineers. Hardly anyone went anywhere without a pair of goggles slung around their neck, ready at a moment’s notice, and these goggles all had huge, multi-lens optical fixtures with switches and dials for adjusting the lenses. Leather was a constant element, especially for gloves and boots. It was warm on these streets thanks to the big grates constantly gusting steam all around, so heavy winter gear wasn’t as common, and most wardrobes had earthy tones. Fae lowered her scarf from her face, perfectly warm now without its protective embrace.
It was loud, too. All kinds of chatter, talking and shouting and laughing, mixed in with hammers clanging, sparks flying, mechanical saws whirring, steam grates hissing, wooden steps and suspension lines creaking, and the constant rhythm of thousands of varying footfalls. The smells here were a more industrial blend, unappealing to Fae’s nose after the lovely cinnamon-peppermint-chocolate aromas that had welcomed her into the city, but Jupiter was loving it, taking in deep breaths everywhere she went with a dreamy smile on her face and an awed glimmer in her eyes.
“Seems a bit grungy for a medical district, don’t you think?” Sonya asked. She and Olivia stayed close to Fae, flinching back from the crowds. Personal space was a luxury here, a luxury they only managed thanks to Toryu taking one side and the Star sisters taking the other side and the front, forming a sort of barrier against the crowd.
“Oh, it’s perfectly sanitary,” Jupiter said. “Looks can be deceiving when it comes to magitech. Come on, the main reference building’s up ahead! We can explain things and see if we find any leads.”
“I thought magitech would look and sound more… magical,” Madeline said.
“Like she said, looks can be deceiving,” Mercury said. “And there’s all sorts of magic at work here under the surface. Not all magic is flashy and obvious.”
“I can feel it,” Ciel said, smiling as he took it all in, constantly looking around, only saved from wandering off and getting lost by Madeline’s grip on his hand. “There’s magic all around us. It almost feels as rich as the Enchanted Dominion.” He jumped back in surprise as a grate ahead of him spat out steam, eyes wide in alarm. A moment later, he laughed, and when the grate hissed out steam again, he ran through it, dragging Madeline with him, coming out the other side with face and hair slightly glistening, a broad smile on his face.
“Here we are,” Jupiter said, gesturing up as she stopped before a blue-green skyscraper with rotating doors. A sign above the entrance said “Corianus Reference Center” in large, refined print, and then below that in hastily painted lettering, “Magi-Med HQ.” “We’ll start here and hope for the best. If we don’t get any leads, it’s time to canvass the streets.”
“I don’t think that’s the word you’re looking for,” Sonya said.
“But it sounds cool!” Jupiter said, her cheer unyielding.
“You’re really taking the initiative here,” Neptune said.
“I’m excited,” Jupiter said, grinning broadly. But mingled with the excitement, Fae also felt a sense of pride and hope. “Anyway!” Jupiter turned and started into the building, as if trying to distract the others from how she was feeling.
Inside, they headed up to the reception desk. Fae noticed, like she had the last time she’d been to Renault, that even having a Dragon here with them didn’t attract too much intense attention. Renault was a city of mages, a city that didn’t have to hide its magic, with numerous doors that led directly to the Enchanted Dominion. The people here must just be used to seeing all sorts of strange creatures and beings.
Jupiter explained to the receptionist the situation that they were looking to remedy as best she could. She didn’t mention an evil Dragon, or a psychic bond, keeping things as simple as possible. She didn’t even specify that Fae was the one affected, simply describing what had been done to Fae, detailing the machines that had injected the transference fluid into Fae with startling detail.
“A fluid that transforms the nature of someone’s body,” the receptionist, a blonde, broad-shouldered young man said, flipping through some paper files. “It’s a unique case, that’s for sure. But… ah, here we are. I thought so.” He chuckled. “You’ll want to talk to Margot Gellinger and her, uh, ‘team.’ An eclectic bunch, but if anyone can help you, it’ll be them.” He wrote down an address and directions, then handed them to Jupiter.
“She’s our best bet?” Jupiter asked. The receptionist’s comments might have sounded like a far cry from a ringing endorsement to most, but Jupiter was practically glowing with a sense of camaraderie, practically shouting without words: “That sounds like my kind of engineer!”
“Your only bet,” the receptionist said. “That’s a very unique case you’ve got, there. Never heard of anything like it — never even imagined anything like it. You might be able to find some luck going door-to-door and telling everyone here about it, see what they can cook up, but Margot might actually have something for you. She’s always filing patents for the strangest things. That unusual imagination might just be your saving grace.”
“Thanks,” Jupiter said, clutching the paper tightly. She turned and led the way out, hope rising above her excitement. Fae followed after her with the others, her heart pounding in her chest. They had one shot in this entire sprawling district, one shot in this vast city full of magitech innovators. If Margot couldn’t help her, if this chance fell through…
This was why she was trying not to get her hopes up.
“It’s over this way,” Jupiter said, guiding them left at a fork in the main street, which heavily featured a massive hardware store that was jam-packed with customers, and huge crowds outside, a mix of people on their way in, on their way out, or mingling around the front, either window-shopping or discussing prospective or recent purchases.
They emerged from the hustle and bustle onto a quieter street, though still abuzz with the lively energy of the rest of this district. The buildings here were smaller, but more densely packed, with a real sense of personalized style. These workshops were as eclectic a bunch as could be found. “Ironclad Citadel,” a gunmetal-grey storefront with a wide-open door revealing burly men hammering away in front of forges was pressed right up against the side of “The Pink Penguin,” a round, garishly pink storefront with heart-shaped windows and someone dressed up in a pink penguin suit outside handing out brochures of the shop’s wares. Across from that was “Bushido Apex,” a blue storefront with an awning stylized like a Samurai’s helmet, the windows displaying numerous fanciful suits of armor and impressive swords, and next to that was “Butterfly Explosion,” its doors designed like multi-colored butterfly wings, open to a shop full of colorful potions, healing crystals, and elegant aroma dispensers.
“I thought this was a medical district,” Madeline said. “What’s with all the armor and weapons?”
“Oh, those have healing properties, too,” Jupiter said. “Come on, magitech isn’t as boring as modern medicine. It’s all about coming up with creative ways to heal people’s ills.”
“They certainly have the creative part down,” Mercury said, nodding approvingly. She’d already had to be stopped by Neptune from wandering into both the Pink Penguin and Butterfly Explosion.
“Over there,” Jupiter said, pointing. “Past Phantasmal Initiative. It’s called… huh. It’s just called ‘Margot’s Workshop.’ ”
“Hold up, the guy tells us she’s eclectic, and she’s got the most boring name of the bunch?” Mercury asked.
“It’s one way to stand out in this crowd,” Sonya said.
“Ooh, good point,” Mercury said. “But hey, as long as it isn’t a boring place.”
“Maybe she has a well-known name,” Madeline suggested. “Branding is important. If she has a reputation because of her name, using it as much as possible could help.”
“Heck if I know anything about marketing,” Mercury said, waving dismissively. “But hey, if that’s how it works, more power to her.”
They came to Margot’s Workshop. Its sign was a sloppy smearing of black paint on a wooden board over somewhat rusted iron doors. The shop itself seemed too short for anyone other than a child to enter, but that was because the shop actually went underground, with stairs steeply descending through the main doors into the workshop proper. Overall, it looked rather ramshackle. The iron plating on doors and walls were rusting and crooked. The glass of the windows was opaque with multiple layers of build-up, impossible to see through. The stairs were cracked, the sign was lopsided, and the roof looked like it was contemplating a cave-in.
“Not what I was expecting,” Jupiter said, frowning. A wave of unease rolled from her to the rest of them, but she quickly tried to cover it. “Anyway! Come on, let’s go meet Margot!” She hurried down the stairs, through the open doors and down into the workshop.
“It’ll be fine,” Mercury said with relentless optimism. “Remember how messy Roland Soundingstone’s workshop was? And he gave us the cure for the Fates.”
That reminder gave Fae the courage to proceed. The candlestick bell had seen her through so much, and just thinking of it gave her a spark of hope. Maybe Margot really could help her. Just like Jupiter had been saying: looks could be deceiving.
“Hello!” Jupiter called ahead of them. The stairs went an entire story underground into a surprisingly spacious workshop, with high ceilings thanks to its unorthodox location. Iron shelves were stacked and stuffed with tools and parts that Fae couldn’t make heads or tails of… not that that said much. She had zero interest in handiwork or mechanical engineering.
“Oh!” a small voice called from farther in, beyond a maze of shelves and strange, esoteric devices and constructs. “Oh, Cee, I do believe we have customers. Go greet them, won’t you? Let them know I’ll be right there.”
A faint whirring sounded, growing closer every second, until a small robot came around a shelf to greet them, rolling along on six wheels. It had a squarish body, a pair of large round arms with clamp-like hands, and a large, rather cute round head. That head had a blue display screen on it, and it flickered with blocky lettering: “Welcome to Margot’s Workshop. Margot will be along to greet you shortly.”
This was followed by a series of charming beeps and boops, and then the robot wheeled in reverse, spinning once and gesturing with one arm, as if to tell them to wait here, where there was the most open floor space.
“I love him already,” Jupiter said in her trademark too-loud-for-a-whisper whisper, squatting down and smiling at the little wheeled bot. “Cee, was it? Nice to meet you. I’m Jupiter.”
Cee beeped several times, and his display screen flickered with a new message: “Nice to meet you, too, Joopitur.”
Jupiter chuckled. “Guess your spelling is a bit imprecise for words you don’t know, huh?”
“Oh, did you misspell her name?” asked a young woman, coming round the corner with grease-stained hands that she was desperately trying to clean on a rag that Fae would have thought was supposed to be black if not for the tiny bit of pink on one corner, which promptly disappeared when the woman wiped her hands on it. She spied Cee’s display, and then placed her hands on her hips. “Now, Cee, you know Jupiter. I’m sure I programmed the planets in there.”
A series of beeps preceded a new message from Cee: “I didn’t think it should be spelled the same since it was a person’s name and not a planet.” He turned to Jupiter, beeping and displaying a new message. “I apologize, Jupiter.”
“No need to apologize, little guy,” Jupiter said, grinning. “I totally get it. And I kind of liked the way you spelled it.” She stood, eyeing the young woman. “You must be Margot Gellinger.”
Margot looked the same age as Jupiter and her sisters. She was a scrawny young woman, and looked even skinnier thanks to wearing very baggy clothing that hung off of her tiny limbs in folded layers. She wore an oversized muted-orange hooded work shirt with sleeves that she had to roll up in tight, layered bunches just to have her hands free, and black overalls that did a marvelous job disguising any grease stains. A heavy-laden tool belt sagged to one side, stuffed on that side with tools of a uniform design, each of them with a rubber, studded grip and an embossed MG at their base. She tossed aside the rag she was holding, and even though she hadn’t looked where to throw it, it landed neatly in a basket of dirty laundry. She reached for a few strands of blonde hair that hung down in her eyes, then noticed the state of her hands and thought better of it, giving a big puff and blowing the hair out of her small, round face. She had large green eyes that looked torn between childlike enthusiasm and anxious shyness, and when she caught Jupiter’s eyes, she looked away.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Jupiter,” she said, slowly looking around at the rest of them. “Goodness, Cee, she brought all of her friends, didn’t she? We’ve never had so many people in our shop at once before.” Her eyebrows lifted in a realization, and she turned, gesturing to Cee. “This is Cee, by the way. He’s one of my boys. Or, really, he’s my father’s, since my father built him. I did help, though. And he built him for me, so… I suppose he is mine.”
“We were told you had a ‘team’,” Jupiter said. “Are they all cute little robots?”
“Oh, she thinks you’re cute, Cee,” Margot said with a charming little smile. “The others are out running errands. Aren’t they, Cee?”
Cee turned with a series of beeps and boops and one rather enthusiastic whistle. “Tee, Dee, and Gee are delivering orders. I remain to assist Margot. I’m her favorite.”
“Cee!” Margot said, her cheeks flushing. “That’s not something you broadcast to strangers!”
“Jupiter is not a stranger. She told me her name.”
Margot sighed. “Yes, I suppose you have a point there, Cee. Well, then, um…” Slowly, she looked up, trying to meet Jupiter’s gaze. “I… should ask, shouldn’t I? Why you’re here?”
“We need your help, if you can help us,” Jupiter said. She explained Fae’s situation just as she had to the receptionist. “Well? What do you think?”
“Oh, Mister Hanover sent you my way?” Margot asked. “That’s… surprising. But he’s right, I think. I should be able to help you. I think. Perhaps.”
Cee beeped in an encouraging fashion. “You can, Margot. Don’t falter now.”
“Oh, thank you, Cee,” Margot said with a smile. “Yes. Right. Well, it all hinges on whether or not the friend of yours in question is present. I will have to examine her.”
Fae bristled at that. She despised doctors, despised being examined. Doctors, dentists, optometrists, every visit felt like the most disgusting invasion of personal space.
Before the others could react to Fae’s emotions through their bond, Margot noticed Fae’s expression and body language and quickly shook her head. “Oh, please, no, don’t be frightened!” she said. “You’re the one, aren’t you?” She looked pleadingly down at Cee. “Oh, Cee, can’t you help me explain? I’m no good at this.”
Cee gave an amused little tweedle and rolled forward, tilting its face up to Fae. “Margot thinks the same as you do about examinations. But this will not be invasive. She wouldn’t dare do to others what she wouldn’t want done to herself.”
“That’s right,” Margot said, breathing a sigh of relief. “You always say things better than I can, Cee.”
“But you will have to explain the procedure to her. My language circuit will short again if I have to use such a variety of words.”
“You’re… correct, of course,” Margot said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Right, then. Um…” She looked at Fae, and then ducked her gaze in embarrassment. “I… seem to have not asked for your names. I’m sorry!”
“No, it’s fine,” Fae said, feeling some relief at Margot and Cee’s response to her fears. She introduced herself, and the rest went around doing the same. Margot was, like everyone else in this city so far, completely unperturbed by Toryu’s presence.
“Fae,” Margot said with a small smile. “Yes, well. Will you come this way?” She led them further into her workshop, navigating the maze of shelves, storage crates, and fascinating inventions. Jupiter gawked in wonder at everything, requiring Neptune and Mercury to help her stay on course. “I just need you to step into the apparatus. Don’t worry, though! It’s quite spacious, and nothing has to touch you. And I certainly won’t share any information I download with anyone else. That would go against my medical officer’s oath.”
“Medical officer?” Madeline asked.
Cee wheeled around, rolling backwards as he responded to Madeline’s query: “Renault’s term for doctors.”
Olivia nodded. “It comes from a time when Renault was more of a military city,” she said. “The city has always been under threat from the Stalkers, and Guardians have always fought to defend it. Long before I was born, the entire city was organized under a military hierarchy, but that was eventually dissolved for a civilian government and society. A lot of the same values and terminology remain, though.”
“Here we are,” Margot said, stepping aside to show a large computer console with a dozen squarish, round-edged monitors hooked up to a tall, spacious apparatus. There was a wide circular platform for one person to stand on, and whoever stood on it would be surrounded by multi-colored bulbs on long pipes, with a thick braid of wires running from them to the computer console. “If you just step on the platform, I can examine you. It will only take a few moments, and you shouldn’t feel any sort of discomfort. You don’t need to remove any clothing or adopt any strange posture, there isn’t any pressure or extreme temperature, it should all be very comfortable and brief.”
“And that will tell you about the current state of my body?” Fae asked.
“It should,” Margot said, slightly emphasizing the second word, a word she’d used a lot in her explanations. “That is how I designed it, and I have tested it on myself and a few… friends…” she said that last word quite hesitantly, “but your condition is one I don’t think has ever happened before.”
“How does it work?” Jupiter asked, standing on the platform and looking around at the bulbs, pipes, and wires. Mercury dragged her out, and Jupiter went over to the computer console, looking it all over but, to her credit, not touching anything.
“It uses Divination Magic,” Margot said. “Most of it is amplification of Divination Magic, but there is also modification, to allow —”
“Allow you to scan for various different things!” Jupiter finished, her eyes lighting up. “You can adjust the parameters to whatever you want, can’t you? That’s what these sliders are for.”
“Yes,” Margot said. “And there is also space for custom commands, though that gets far more tricky.”
“I’ve never even heard of something like this,” Jupiter said, her eyes sparkling, her voice flooded with awe and wonder.
“Can we… get started?” Fae asked. She was glad for Jupiter’s enthusiasm, but she didn’t want to hesitate or draw things out now.
She just wanted to know.
“Yes, of course,” Margot said. She procured a clean cloth, wiping her hands finally fully clean of grease and grime. “Cee, will you help me, please?” Cee tweedled happily and rolled up beside her. While she sat at the console, Cee opened a compartment on the front of his body and plugged himself into a slot beneath the console. “Fae, if you would stand upon the stage, this should only take a few moments. If you feel any discomfort, please let me know, and we can adjust or stop.”
“Thank you,” Fae said, taking her place on the stage.
“Can I watch what you do?” Jupiter asked, gazing longingly over Margot’s shoulder.
“Yes, that should be fine,” Margot said. “Please do not touch anything during the examination, though.” Jupiter nodded, and Margot pressed a few buttons. “Fae, we’re starting now. Please stay as still as you can. But if you need to move, that’s okay. Here we go.”
The bulbs lit up, shedding soft light of all colors. Accompanying them was a soft mechanical hum, steady and calm.
“Okay,” Margot said after a few moments. “That’s… unusual.” She adjusted a few sliders. The lights flickered, changing colors, and the hum altered its pitch slightly. “Interesting. This is… very complex. Hold on a moment.” She typed a series of custom commands on the keyboard. The lights changed once, twice, three times. The hum ran through a short little melody before resolving to a constant pitch once more.
And then, the lights shut off, and the hum faded.
“That’s the end of it,” Margot said. But her expression was puzzled. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make heads or tails of these readings right away like I’d thought. They’ll need further analysis. You can step out of there, though, I’ve collected all the data I need.”
“So you don’t know if you can help me?” Fae asked, stepping off of the platform and joining her friends. Warm reassurance flooded the seven-part bond, steadying her in the midst of uncertainty.
“I believe I can,” Margot said, though her expression was still very puzzled. “At its core, this is a fundamental transformation of your body, almost a rewrite of your DNA. It’s a wonder you’re still… you. There is something very powerful holding your sense of self together — that, or your soul is a particular strong-willed soul, refusing to lose its grip on its identity. I should say ‘and/or.’ It could be both. Anyway.” She looked at Cee, nodding twice. “We can do it, can’t we, Cee? It’s just a matter of deciphering all of this.”
Cee tweedled happily. “I estimate we can fully decipher these readings and make an accurate judgment of our ability to assist her within twenty-four hours.”
“That fast?” Margot asked, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, Cee, you’re a wonder!”
Cee gave an amused whistle, and a little twitter of beeps and boops that sounded almost like laughter. “That estimate was based on your intellect, as well. But thank you very much.”
“Well, you heard him,” Margot said, nodding twice, making fleeting eye contact with Fae. “If you come back tomorrow, we should have all of the answers you seek.”
“Oh,” Fae said, her heart sinking. “I… see. The problem is… well, we don’t have that long. We have to leave in…” she looked at Neptune, who checked her spheroid Universal Time pocket watch, and read the time from Neptune’s mind, “two and-a-half hours.”
“Wait, Fae!” Jupiter said, her eyebrows creased with concern. “We can wait, we can find another way to the Hall. We just found out you might be able to be cured, you can’t just —”
“You’ll still have your answers if I return later, won’t you?” Fae asked, looking at Margot.
“Oh!” Margot said, looking at Cee. “We will, won’t we?”
Cee let out a low, somewhat admonishing whistle. “You know as well as I do.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Margot said with a sigh. “I’m just no good at talking to people, Cee. I’m not like my father.” She sighed sadly, but composed herself and nodded, making eye contact with Fae. “Yes. I will still have your answers, no matter when you return. Are you going somewhere? You could always leave me your cell phone numbers or email addresses…”
“We’re going to the Enchanted Dominion,” Jupiter said, utterly crestfallen. “Kinda hard to get cell reception or internet there.”
“Oh! No, that’s perfect, then.” Margot, eyes bright with an idea, rushed past them, Cee rolling along behind her, beeping and booping with cheerful energy. The rest followed after them, to a far corner of Margot’s workshop where she was opening and closing drawers in a frantic search. “I know it’s here somewhere. Oh, Cee, why do they keep moving their charging station?
Cee tweedled with amusement. “They are a restless pair.”
“If only they would —” Margot started, when Cee used his clamp-like hands to pull out a lower drawer, offering a high whistle of delight. “Oh, Cee, thank you! There they are.” Margot reached into the drawer, retrieving a pair of palm-sized, spherical robots that looked very much like Cee’s head, but half that size. They didn’t have bodies or arms, though each of them did have a pair of circular, disc-shaped attachments that, when Margot woke them up — they’d been in sleep mode — turned out to be little glowing hover panels that allowed them to float about freely through the air.
“This is Lore,” Margot said, nodding to one of the hovering bots, its display screen flickering to life with a greenish hue, “and this is Core,” she indicated the other one, with a purple display screen. “They were an experiment when I was a child, one that I continued to tinker with and — well, skipping the life story, they are a lovely little pair. You see, they are linked, no matter distance or even realm. They can communicate with each other over any distance — even from Earth to the farthest reaches of the Enchanted Dominion.”
“You’re going to give us a cute little flying robot?” Jupiter asked, her eyes practically glowing with excitement. Excitement — the excitement of a child on Christmas morning, one hundred times stronger — flooded from her to the others, and it was all they could do to keep themselves from jumping for joy.
“Loan you one, to be more accurate,” Margot said. “But thank you, again, for complimenting them. I’m quite proud of them. Lore, Core, say hello, please.”
The two flying bots hovered over and focused their attentions on Jupiter. They gave little chirping beeps and boops in unison, their display screens flickering with the same message: “Pleased to meet you, Jupiter and Fae and others.”
“You were listening in the whole time?” Margot asked.
Another pair of united chirps, sounding quite mischievous and amused. “We were only sleeping, not powered off.”
Margot, hands on her hips, was softly, somewhat shyly, indignant. “Then you knew I was looking for you! Oh, you two are simply impossible.”
Lore and Core bounced as they chirped and tweedled, endlessly entertained. “You love us anyway.”
“Of course I do,” Margot said, and she smiled, shaking her head. “Core, won’t you please travel with Jupiter? I’ll contact you through Lore when we have the result’s of Fae’s tests and a firm decision on whether or not we can help her.”
Core did a little mid-air flip, whistling a jolly little tune. “I get to go on an adventure! And with someone who is as passionate for magitech as you!”
“You got that right,” Jupiter said, beaming from ear to ear. “Is this really real? Is he really coming with us?”
“Yes,” Margot said. “Watch out for him, won’t you? He’s a bit of a rascal. But he’s a wonderful rascal. I’ll send you off with his charging station, and a few instructions. You seem to have enough a grasp on magitech to keep him in tip-top shape for your adventure.”
“I will guard him with my life,” Jupiter said, gravely serious, snapping a salute.
While Margot talked over Core’s care with Jupiter, Fae headed back up and out to the snowy streets.
It was a lot to take in. And Fae wouldn’t get all of her answers just yet. Margot was confident, but Fae couldn’t muster the same confidence. Her situation was entirely unique. Margot couldn’t make sense of her body right away, and needed a whole day to figure out what exactly had been done to her.
But, even so… this visit had done something immeasurably valuable. It had given Fae a tiny spark of hope.
She said there’s something powerful protecting my soul. And maybe my soul itself is too strong-willed to lose its sense of self, despite what Wasuryu did to me.
She found herself smiling.
After all that Dragon’s tried to do to me, to Olivia, to Sonya… we haven’t lost ourselves. For all the ways I’ve changed…
I’m me.
And whatever comes next, whether Margot can heal me or this ends up a dead-end…
I’ll still be me at the end of it all.