“What are you doing?” Tove asked. I looked back at them.

  “Well I was going to dramatically blow the door off its hinges, but I’ve realised that I didn’t actually load my stave, and that you guys probably wouldn’t know what your part in the plan was, so I’m actually going to not do that, and wait a moment instead.”

  “You’re very kind.”

  “I have my moments.”

  “What exactly do you mean ‘load your stave’, though?” Nalfis asked. “Are you telling us that stick of yours does something?” I nodded. “Oh,” he continued. “I thought it was just for bludgeoning people.”

  “Well, it can be for that, but it’s more of a magic thing. I made it! It’s to make sure that the more… violent magic I use stays away from my body and pointed the right direction.”

  “That’s useful then, I suppose. So you, what, cast a spell and then channel it through your staff?”

  “Not quite. Hang on a moment,” I said, propping my staff against the door, and reaching for the same pouch I had when I blew the door off on the leg. It was a great spell for many things, but it was relatively draining as magic went, so I had to ration my use of it. Also, carving the little beads was really annoying. I took one of them out for demonstration. “You probably can’t see from there,” I said, “but there are tiny little lines and glyphs and symbols that are engraved onto this. If I add enough raw magic to this, all of those will fill, and create whatever magical effect those symbols mean. Plus destroy the bead. The staff,” I said, picking it back up for emphasis, “is for spells that go bang, since otherwise they’d go bang in my hand. Not ideal.”

  “Did a spell go bang in your hand before?” asked Tove. “Is that why you wear gloves?”

  “No, and-”

  “Wait a moment,” Alf interrupted, “are you saying that you do magic by gripping a staff, doing something special to it, and making an explosion come out of the end?”

  We all gave that response exactly as much consideration as it deserved. Literally none.

  “The gloves are cosmetic,” I said (which is technically true, I reasoned). “But to bring us back to the matter at hand, I’m open to suggestions about the best way forward.”

  “Weren’t you just going to ‘dramatically blow the door off its hinges’?” Eoin smirked.

  “Well,” I replied, “I realise now that might not be the best idea, and may actually have been a spur-of-the-moment thought based on wanting to be cool and decisive. I can recognise my mistakes though, so I’m granting space to the floor.” I grinned again in what I hoped was a cheerful and roguish way. “So what are you guys actually good at?” I asked. “No offence, but none of you really look… tough.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Alf replied.

  “True,” I shrugged, “but I do my best to make up for it through the application of huge amounts of techno-magical violence. If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you guys do?”

  “Magic,” said Alf.

  “Magic,” said Tove.

  “Magic,” said Nalfis. I looked at Eoin.

  “Leadership, tactical and strategic insight, providing legitimacy, overall control…” he trailed off, before also shrugging. “And magic.”

  “Right. Amazing,” I palmed my face. “Look, I feel like you all know your capabilities better than I do – if I smash this door open, do you all have things you could do?” They all generally muttered an affirmation. “Brilliant. Then I suggest we all get ready.”

  The room was a bit awkwardly shaped for us, since the door was at the top of the stairs, but everyone began preparing themselves. For Eoin that was just adjusting the grip on his staff and taking a couple of deep breaths, but I could see Alf strapping on a shield, Nalfis plucking and tuning a small lyre (why?), and Tove using that same beaded string I’d seen before, folding it into new patterns and shapes as the small stones on it seemed to twinkle softly.

  For my own part, I got out a small disk, a bit larger than a hockey puck. It was made of wood and metal, and looked like it was made of lots of concentric circles, which it sort of was. I channelled magic into it, and watched as it began to unfold. The circles telescoped out, the outer rings contorted and parted with sounds of clicking and whirring. Polished oak and brass, painstakingly measured, carved, researched, designed, and assembled, began to unfold into segments, spinning and pivoting around hidden hinges and screws. The crystal concealed in the middle absorbed the magic being poured in, glowing a soft blue-white inside its cradle. The form began to take shape, the exterior splitting twice and gaining claws, and the metal rings elongating and connecting.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Before it finished, I threw it straight upwards, where the four newly-emerged legs clamped onto the ceiling and anchored it there while the barrel expanded, solidified, and swivelled towards the door. The whole process only took a few seconds, and resulted in a sort of demented-looking steampunk gun-spider hanging from the ceiling.

  The others looked between me and it, clearly confused, but I felt now wasn’t the time for questions. The magic fuelling it wouldn’t last forever. “Covering fire.” I half-explained. “Is everyone ready?” They nodded, and Eoin began issuing instructions, which I was half-surprised and half-annoyed to find were sensible.

  “Alf, you’ll go at the front – you’re best defended and toughest. (how is that old man the toughest?) Tove, I want you just behind him. It’s a narrow space and you might be needed to keep him standing.” Both of them nodded, and he continued. “Naflis and I will be behind you, since we can actually see over your heads.” It was well-reasoned, if a little mean. He then turned to me. “Indy, once you’ve opened the door, I expect you to get out of the way quickly.” He pointed to the edge of the landing. “Drop off the side and then loop back up the stairs after us. Will that device of yours,” he pointed to the ceiling, “work autonomously?”

  “Yep.” I answered. “I just need to see a little bit of what I want it to target, but the commands are mental.” I tapped my head for emphasis.

  “Good,” he said, “then everyone take up your positions.” We all did, quietly. There was an undeniable tension now, the classic fear of the unknown. Being in a fight is one thing, but this sort of preparation felt weird, and strangely fatalistic. I guess I’m just more used to doing everything without actually thinking about it. Maybe this shitty feeling was why.

  “You know,” Alf mused, “it’s at times like this that I really miss Talani.”

  “I miss him at far more times than this,” Tove said quietly, and with more than a hint of melancholy.

  “Your friend met no less of an end than he deserved,” Eoin sneered – pretty fucking unwisely, as it turned out. Tove whipped around faster than I thought possible, with a snarl set across her face that had me resisting the urge to apologise purely on instinct. She calmed herself just as quickly, fixing her expression in that sort of maternal way which gets used when guests are around and which says ‘I can’t scream at you now, but your time left in this world is coming to an end’. “If you say that again,” she pronounced, “I will fucking kill you myself. Is that clear?” For his part, Eoin didn’t respond, but he didn’t look particularly fazed by that statement either, just keeping his face set in that same, neutral, slightly-annoyed expression it always seemed to have. Tove turned back around, taking her position and pointedly keeping her back squarely turned to Eoin.

  I crept up towards the door, loading the bead from earlier into my staff, and making sure I kept the tip pointed upwards for now so it didn’t roll out the front in a really embarrassing way. I got to the front and then sat down and swung my legs off the edge of the landing, so I could drop off quickly. “Everyone ready?” I asked. “I’ll count us in, but this is going to be loud as fuck, so I’d recommend covering your ears when I get to the end. Cool?” I levelled the barrel at the door, holding it a bit further back instead of making it flush against it like I had outside. I knew this door would open with way less force than I was about to use, so I wanted to make sure I dispersed the magic across both doors instead of just one.

  “3…” I took a deep breath. “2…” I let magic build in my hand, anxious to be released. I heard Tove speaking rapidly from behind me.

  “Waitareyougoingon’one’oristherea’go’?” is what I think she said, but the magic had to go somewhere now, and she was about to get her answer anyway.

  “Boom”.

  The energy shot up the staff, into the barrel, and somewhere inside it, a small wooden bead briefly glowed with arcane light before dissolving, or more accurately vaporising, as the magic converted into pure, concentrated ‘loud’. Loud makes a shockwave, and a tunnel of magically-reinforced steel provided the only way it could go. The concussive force shot out of the barrel, expanding as soon as it was free, before slamming into the doors. The cacophony of a sonic boom was immediately joined by crashing metal as the doors, which I had expected to swing violently open, were instead blasted clean off their hinges. They flew back, smashing into the floating orbs, briefly electrifying themselves before the constructs also fell to pieces, battered by flying, ruined, ex-door. I could hear the odd sparking noise, and the faint tinkling of metal scraps and rivets hitting the ground as my hearing came back. There was a high-pitched whining noise, which I gradually realised was the aftershock in my own ears.

  I vaguely remembered that I was meant to have dropped off the edge of the landing as soon as I had done my bit, but I was stuck in a mixture of “transfixed by curiosity” and “stunned by concussive force and loud noise” which made me think that any movement was inadvisable. I stared into the newly-opened corridor as the whining faded and my equilibrium came back. It was a mess of ruined metal. The doors were several metres away, the orbs were a mix of flattened, smashed, and completely taken to pieces, and all were non-functional. They’d probably been right in front of the doors when I’d fired, and I doubt they were built for that kind of impact.

  The others, who had readied themselves for a lot more action than we were apparently seeing, stayed on alert, and Alf slowly crept past the obstacle that was me, and through the empty doorway, closely followed by Tove, who patted my shoulder as she went past. As their feet crunched on ruined metal there was part of me that couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for having destroyed these things so utterly. I’m not sure what the alternative was, but I still felt bad, especially given the age of this place. Shattered pieces of crystal also lined the corridor, which I assumed had been the cores, or power sources, of these orbs. Even as I watched, the final motes of light faded from each piece, dissipating into the air like the final exhalation of a dying person. The pang of guilt returned, but I pushed it aside as I stood up – these were pieces of magical technology, not people.

  Whatever the case, I slowly stood up as Nalfis and Eoin also walked past and into the corridor, Eoin giving me a disturbingly calculating look as he went by. The last sparking noises petered out, the last fragments of metal had clattered to the ground, and the last of the whining was fading from my ears. Above me, the crystal built into my device started pulsing a soft, slow orange – the magic that fuelled it was about to run out. I stood underneath and let it fall, catching it somewhat awkwardly as it folded itself back into its disk shape.

  There was a strange quiet that followed it all, and a silly, demented little voice in the back of my head only had one contribution to make.

  That was a bit anticlimactic.

  have been updating the previous chapters as well, which is mostly going ok but is also a bit of a distraction.

  Sammy xx