“Two and a half months ago, I stood before the director of the MASO and stared down at Alurian’s photo for the first time. From the first moment I met her, I had a strong impression that she belonged firmly in the auspices of the mundane. Now, I question my assessment.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

People passed by the smithy in droves, their faces disfigured by the flickering flames that lit the evening throughout the outpost. Most were discussing Illian’s return. As always, the smithy was open to the world, its wood dry as straw from the heat both without and within the building. Sooty smoke had stained the corners of the empty doorframe black, forming a gritty haze that could not be washed away, and a few industrious spiders had spun their webs in the dark crevices that resulted. The continued presence of the gently billowing, cottony fibers of spider silk suggested that no one had ever tried to clean the black grime from the wood, and the stains had taken hold as a result of simple negligence.

This Bek absently decided as he sat against one wall, bronze eyes focused through the narrow doorway on Silver’s retreating back. Once more, she was headed to bed early. His eyes narrowed before he flicked his gaze to Cara. She was gifted, and gifted in a way that the MASO would have paid dearly for seven hundred years in the future. It was no wonder Illian had enlisted her now, or that she had ended up in the smithy. It was too bad that she was too young and inexperienced to have mastered her craft, or the weapons she imbued with even limited will and mobility would have been game changers for Illian’s rebellion.

Of course, having a unique gift also meant that rumors had spread about her. Cara was an orphan that Sara had taken in at a young age. The cities of Alti, like those in any other nation, were not without suffering, nor were they without the destitute. Some of the luckiest were magic users capable of directing their talents towards surviving, like Cara. She had gotten the witch’s attention when she animated a wooden doll for a street show.

Cara was probably lucky that no one like Illian had found her first. Sara treated her like a daughter, not an asset. Others, and he suspected Ren among them, had not been so lucky. Bek had heard enough rumors about the dark-haired man to realize he could see people’s immediate futures with skin-to-skin contact – the ability had driven him from fistfights to betting matches and then to the Altian jails.

Eventually, Cara looked up and waved Bek over. He came, standing at a low, rickety table laid with an array of worked silver casings shaped to the exact proportions he had ordered of the smith earlier in the week. Arrayed around them were several narrow wood pegs, tiny gemstones, and a spun reel of imperfect silver wire with a roughly 5mm diameter. There were also two silver needles and several flat squares of hewn rock. He lifted a piece of the rock and inspected it, rotating it one way and then another in the golden light streaming in from the outdoors. He felt Cara’s sapphire eyes on him.

“Will that work for you?” she asked.

Bek stared at the stone a moment longer even though he knew there was no problem with it. Even if it had been of a lesser quality, it would have more than suited his purposes.

“Yes.”

“And with this you can do something similar to what I do?”

He paused, looking past the stone at her.

“I can.”

Cara nodded solemnly, seeming unconcerned when he set down the stone to watch her finish her current project. Without a doubt, what she was doing came naturally to her. It took her no time at all to fit a series of blades into an ovular disk of metal about half an inch thick. They were followed by six segmented legs, giving her work the appearance of a mechanical spider. As soon as the final leg was in place, it suddenly began to flex, and Cara dropped it onto the table. Without pause, the thing managed to right itself, and then scurried quickly up her pale arm and onto her shoulder. Cara smiled, blue eyes bright with pride, and stroked its metal spine the way most people would a cat.

It was remarkable to watch, and would have been more so if Bek were not used to the remarkable. He had been around magic too long.

Running the back of his hand across his neck, Bek turned his gaze to his own work, cutting the silver wire with short, sharp bursts of magic. The pieces fell cleanly into his hands, tingling slightly due to their high conductivity to magic. There were a few things he planned to teach Cara. They would help Illian, and in turn, help him and Silver stay alive a little longer. If they died before they could return to their own time, that would be the end of their little adventure. If that happened…his eyes strayed to the open doorway.

There were too many things he would leave unfinished.

There was a dark light in his eyes now, his thoughts turning to things he preferred not to think about. There were reasons he had betrayed the MASO to help the beasts, and they were nowhere near as noble as Silver probably believed. There were also reasons he spent his evenings alone, reading the Encyclopedia of Mythical Beasts, and then reading it again, and again, and again.

Silver was part of the mystery. He was beginning to think she had been thrust into the middle of it, possibly at the same time he had. Eleven years before…what had happened eleven years ago that had driven her family into hiding? Who had gone to such lengths to fill her memories with lies – a theory that was beginning to make more and more sense to him – and how had they done it so perfectly?

When Illian appeared in the doorway, Bek paused in his work, surprised. Ibald turned for a moment, gesturing Illian wordlessly inside, and the nodded curtly when Illian gestured towards Bek. “I hear you’ve been scheming in here,” Illian suggested, staring at the table in front of him, “is it true you have a method of working spell circles into our weapons?”

“Not quite,” Bek said, launching into an explanation of the difference between the spell circles of the past and the circuits of the present. He knew enough of medieval magical artifacts to understand what Illian was expecting, and it was something vastly different, technologically and theoretically, than what he planned to do. The modern spell circuit simply had not been invented yet – it had been based on micro-engineering principles several hundred years in the future. There was no need for him to describe precisely what he planned to do, anyway. He merely needed to prove to Illian that it would allow them to double or triple Cara’s capacity for creating apparently self-aware tools of war.

Bek’s tools, of course, were not animated…instead, they were literally tuned with sets of simple instructions. Those could be of Illian’s choosing, but he had suggestions. So, in the end, did Cara. The better part of the evening had passed before Illian appeared satisfied.

“I assume you’re aware Sara has formally requested permission to train Silver to deliver medical attention in the field?” Illian finally asked. Bek made a sound of agreement, and Illian eyed him thoughtfully. “She doesn’t seem know that Silver has the ability to heal with magic.”

“I don’t think Silver has shared that with anyone,” Bek observed. Cara’s eyes had widened as she listened in on their conversation. It was clear she badly wanted to interrupt.

“Her power would be invaluable if she had a teacher,” Illian said, tapping a finger against his chin, “but no one here has that expertise. Tell me honestly, Bek, is she skilled? I assume for now she’s kept her silence because she’s been unwell.”

“She was never formally trained. I would say she is powerful, but not skilled. Even if Silver had said something, I would have warned Sara against relying on her. She’ll hurt herself. She’s done it before.”

Illian nodded slowly, dark eyes scrutinizing Bek as he considered.

“I see. You seem to have impressed several of my captains as well, while I was away,” Illian informed him.

“Are you surprised?” Bek asked, looking up into Illian’s face. The older man hmphed.

“Not really. Between you and Ren I’ve regained some optimism even after speaking with the council this past week.” Bek had no idea what Ren had done, but knew better than to ask. “I’ll be the first to try one of your modified weapons,” Illian said then, “The sooner you have something for me, the better. The council and the king are both growing impatient.”

“Understood.”

“When you aren’t here or training with Holtson, I expect you in the guards’ quarters,” Illian said decisively. Bek narrowed his eyes, but Illian was not looking at him.

“Understood,” he repeated. That was all, it seemed, that Illian had to say. Bek watched the man go, feeling Cara’s bright eyes on them both. Inquisitive. Questioning. Just a little too similar, despite the fact that he had said nothing to Silver of his suspicions, to a woman he would meet in the forest village of Icthuria seven hundred years in the future.