It was dark outside the window of Amelia’s bedroom and she was tired. She’d spent half the day trying to ditch Hobard and the house staff, but they’d gotten surprisingly tenacious in the past week.

  It had been five years since the day she’d been conscripted and she’d been forced to become a military contractor, against her will, in lieu of regular military service. Technically, Amelia was still in the military, but she’d been allowed to go home, so she could design and build an armored, horseless war wagon for the King, a task she’d been quite busy with, though she’d been intentionally sabotaging all of the prototypes. Amelia thought every day about the consequences of arming her nation with such a weapon and had vowed to avoid doing so, even at the cost of her own life.

  Since the day she’d come home from basic training, she’d become rather suspicious of the house staff, because they were paid by the city, and after a while, Amelia had come to realize that meant they didn’t actually answer to her. Oh, she could fire them any time she liked, but they would be immediately replaced, an experiment she’d tried with her personal attendant. In the end, the house got a new maid, but Amelia had refused to choose another attendant, which allowed greater privacy in her private quarters. It was a small victory, but ever since, the staff seemed to always be near, as if they were following her.

  It didn’t help with Amelia’s paranoia that every time she went into town, she always seemed to bump into one of the footmen or maids while they were out shopping to meet the needs of the house.

  Amelia’s hair was no longer in ringlets, because that was just too much work for her to bother with on her own. Instead, she’d just been tying her air behind her head with a ribbon, which was rather easy to do.

  Amelia opened the window and tossed a knotted rope outside, grateful she’d chosen a bedroom with no window below it, because the room beneath was a vault designed for the storage of valuables.

  She climbed down, grateful Dugaria wasn’t currently facing Junas, because the reflected light of that giant world made for rather brightly-lit nights. The light of the stars made it clear she wore a plain, gray, button shirt, a dark jacket and a pair of rugged trousers, attire suitable for work. She pushed off the side of the house to avoid landing in a flower bed between two bushes and let go. With a bit of a roll, Amelia was on her feet in less than a second, while the rope swung back to the house, where it bounced and drifted back and forth in the wind.

  “Nice landing, ma'am.” One of Amelia’s apprentices rose from the bushes and stepped into sight.

  Dawkin Icebrow was a little taller than Amelia, with short, black hair. He wore similarly rugged clothing suitable for work, as well as the eager expression that always graced his face, as if he loved his work and was always ready to learn something new. If Amelia had been more involved in the real world, rather than the world of her imagination, she might have been cognizant of the fact that the young man looked on her with more than a small amount of desire, which she’d mistaken for a keen interest in what she could teach him. He’d always done excellent work for Amelia, which was why she’d promoted him to the position of chief assistant, making him her right-hand man.

  Amelia asked, “Did anyone follow you?”

  “No ma'am.” Dawkin shook his head, “I made sure of that, just as you told me to.”

  “Any idea where Hobard is at the moment, then? We definitely need to avoid him.”

  Dawkin grinned, “On the opposite side of the house.”

  “Oh?”

  “I may have implied to the other apprentices that you would be pleased if there was a big distraction in the front yard tonight. I didn’t actually ask them to do anything, but you know how they think…” Dawkin trailed off and smiled in the dim light.

  Amelia knew quite well. Her apprentices were loyal, because she paid them well and every one had taken an oath of secrecy about their work, which was so ancient, not even the government could compel them to break it. After all, the protection of craft secrets was a vital part of the oldest of the laws in the constitution. Not even the King had the authority to compel them to break their word.

  In fact, the apprentices were the biggest reason Amelia was suspicious of the house staff, because a few weeks after she’d been sent home, each one of them had come to her of their own accord, to suggest she take great care with what she said in the presence of the butlers and maids.

  “What kind of distraction?”

  “Let’s just say it involves a lost key to the front gate, lots of free beer and an anonymously-delivered note inviting the patrons of the rowdiest bar in the city to party in the front yard. It cost us a pretty penny, but we’re glad to do it.”

  Amelia reached into her pocket and produced a small purse full of silver coins, which she pressed into Dawkin’s hands, saying, “That should be more than enough to reimburse all of you for the beer. Make anything that’s left-over an off-books bonus.”

  Dawkin nodded and chuckled, “Will do.”

  “What about the milk and cheese?”

  “Oh, I almost left them in the bush.”

  Dawkin stepped back to it and reached inside, producing a big, glass bottle of milk and a rather large wheel of cheese, which Amelia accepted from him. The milk was normal enough, but the cheese was a bit over thirty pounds. The cheddar smelled pretty good.

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  Amelia and Dawkin rushed off in the night, headed for the most recent addition to the property, which was a stone tower of exceptional height. Like the other towers in the land, it was ostensibly for the sake of the view, but Amelia always kept it locked.

  Hobard had initially wanted to assign one of the maids to clean it once a week, but Amelia had insisted it remain for her private, magical research and a sanctuary for private contemplation, that she might find greater inspiration, which had shut him up, because if a witch desired a place to experiment with magic, it was best to give that place a wide berth.

  Nonetheless, he and the rest of the house staff had been trying to get a peek inside, ever since construction was complete, but Amelia had been wise enough to put it in the corner of the property, with the main doors facing outward, toward the wall.

  They arrived at the double doors of the tower and the both of them looked around for prying eyes.

  Each door was six feet wide and close to nine tall, giving plenty of room to move things in and out of the structure. The base of it was rather wide, at eleven yards, and the walls were sheer. Amelia had spent a considerable sum to make sure the exterior of the granite tower had been polished smooth and near-perfectly joined together, to make it an impossible climb, though that was mostly for the sake of misdirection, because local witches knew how to fly on broomsticks.

  When Amelia was satisfied they were alone, she grabbed hold of the padlock that secured the door and rotated a set of nine discs with numbers painted on them, until the combination she’d chosen was set. She gave the custom lock she’d built herself a yank and the shackle popped open. She pocketed the heavy thing and pushed one of the doors inward.

  Once they were inside, Dawkin lit a lantern that lay on a workbench to one side of the door, while Amelia set aside the milk and cheese, before shoving the door closed. Next, each of them laid hold of a heavy board that could have been a support beam. Working together, they lifted it in place on a set of hooks built into the doors, to securely bar the way.

  Amelia had spared no expense and the doors were made of ironwood from the jungle. Likewise, the bar holding it shut was the same material, which was harder than most steel alloys. Combined with the three-foot thick solid granite of the walls, the place was impregnable, aside from a pair of tooth-like gaps between blocks that ran up the interior walls of either side, which were joined together by a series of steel plates, rather than mortar, though the lines were only visible from the inside.

  Granite stairs wound their way up the interior of the tower, regularly meeting a scaffolding of wood supports, which held up a smaller tower made of gleaming, brushed metal that occupied the center. The metal tower was round in the center, but came to a pair of peaks along either side and the tip of it was like the point of an arrowhead. The arrow-like qualities were significantly enhanced by the fins near the bottom, which looked like fletchings. The whole thing stood on a set of four metal cones with a curved shape, rather than sharp lines. The four fins extended almost all the way to the walls of the tower and each had a control surface similar to the tail fins of Blackbird and Blackbird II. The area between the fins and facing the door was an open cavity, with a wooden ramp leading inside. The ramp connected to a set of metal tracks that might have been designed to accept some object that wasn’t present, while a hook dangling from a chain appeared ready to lift it. To one side of the ramp was a metal panel of just the right size to close the cavity.

  Looking up at the gleaming tower of metal, Dawkin asked, “Will it be ready in time for the demonstration?”

  “Yes, there should be just enough time, but only if we work all night for the next two nights. I’d rather not work the night after that, because I’ll need to rest before the demonstration, or everything could go wrong. I think we’ll have to bring in the other apprentices tomorrow night.”

  “They’re ready to help, ma'am, but they’ll need time to study the plans.”

  Amelia sighed, “I know. Take them with you when we’re done for the night, but make sure they don’t fall into the wrong hands.”

  “You can count on me!” Dawkin nodded and saluted, despite the fact he wasn’t in the military.

  Amelia lit a lantern of her own and Dawkin picked up the other. Each of them loaded their belts with tools, while Amelia once more burdened herself with the milk and cheese, before they headed up the stairs.

  It had been a long night of too much work and Amelia was exhausted as she locked the tower and randomized the discs on the combination lock, to make guessing the combination even harder.

  Dawkin smiled at her in the dim, predawn light, “I’ll see you in a few hours. Try and get some sleep, if you can.”

  He had a large sheet of paper in hand, which had been folded up. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

  “Thanks and you should do the same.” Amelia nodded and cautioned, “Keep those plans safe.”

  “I’ll protect them with my life.”

  Dawkin ran off, toward a portion of the wall that included a ladder, which he climbed, then jumped down the other side, with a grunt.

  Meanwhile, Amelia headed back toward the house, where she leaped onto the rope she’d left behind, climbing back into her bedroom. After that, she hauled the rope back in, carefully hid it under the floorboards she’d loosened for the purpose, spent half an hour sponging sweat off her body with a wet rag from the pitcher and bowl set aside for washing, then climbed into bed.

  Amelia woke an hour later to a knock on the door.

  She put on a robe and opened the door, to look into Hobard’s face, who bowed his head and spoke, “Please pardon the early intrusion upon your time, ma'am, but there’s a matter that requires your attention, just as soon as you’re ready.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m afraid there was a breach of security last night and a number of drunken hooligans have been detained for trespassing.”

  “Ah, is that what all the noise was about? I had such a hard time getting back to sleep.” Amelia yawned.

  “Indeed.” Hobard nodded, “This would normally have been handled more quietly, to avoid creating additional stress, ma'am, but the Sheriff insists on seeing you. He’s convinced you and your sisters were being targeted.”

  “Very well, I’ll get dressed.” Amelia shut the door in Hobard’s face and grinned with amusement.

  She dressed, put a serious expression on her face and went out to meet the sheriff.

  The conversation with the sheriff was over and Amelia sent him away with no additional information.

  Iris sidled over to her in the hall as they headed for the dining room, only to whisper, “What’s going on? I can tell when you’re hiding something and you were a hair away from laughing the entire time that man was here.”

  Amelia leaned over to Iris and whispered, “Just a little mischief to distract the staff from the real truth.”

  “Fair enough,” Iris sighed and a tear rolled down her cheek, “but we need to talk in private. I reached out to Marta last night, and she also wants a word. She’ll be back this afternoon.”

  “Okay.” Amelia nodded, “Can you wait until then?”

  “Yeah. With your demonstration of the next prototype coming, they’re giving me both the afternoon and tomorrow off, so we can rest and coordinate.”

  “I’ll be in the workshop most of the day, as usual.”

  Iris nodded and the two of them headed for the dining room. Amelia looked on her sister with concern as she wiped away her tears and put an impassive look on her face, to hide her true feelings.