Naoko laughs again at the joke. Daromir tries not to hate her for it.
“I’m not concerned with smuggling,” Radovan explains as he lifts a carved pendant before each of them. “Unlike our fine drasgard. I’m just conducting a number of experiments that require very specific amounts of scalestone influence. I prefer not to start over again.”
“Again?” Naoko asks.
Radovan pockets the pendant with a pained expression. “I’m sure Prince Kazia didn’tintendto pilfer through my laboratory while wearing scalestone hair pins. But accidents happen.” Radovan glances at Osric. “Speaking of accidents… does the fellcat intend to come in as well?”
Osric yawns, jaws stretching wide enough to encompass a man’s head.
“Don’t worry, he’s house-trained,” Naoko says. “Mori is the one you should watch out for.”
“Hey!” Mori mutters as Radovan waves them inside.
Lord Radovan’s laboratory is larger than Daromir expected. A two-story hallway, the second floor a half-balcony above. A velvet rope blocks off the stairs, and there are a number of closed doors towards the back. A smooth, black marble counter dominates the center of the chamber, with plenty of open space. But the walls and edges are crowded with plants, shelves of glass jars, and chittering cages. Small birds and lizards, and tanks of fish and swaying plants. Brass instruments that mean nothing to Daromir.
“I’ll start by explaining my current project,” Radovan says. “Then we can look at anything else that interests you.”
On the marble counter sits a row of shallow black boxes. Radovan draws on a pair of gloves and pulls out a ring.
“Null-collars are perhaps the greatest achievement in enchantment this century,” Radovan begins. “Perhaps the greatest achievement since the first inheritance spell. But I don’t think we’ve explored everything the nullification materials can do—indeed, I believe they’re less about nullification, and more about control.” Radovan holds the ring up to the light. It’s made of multiple metals braided together. “This ring, for example, can block any tracking magic. At least, among the tracking spells I’ve tried.” Radovan picks up another ring. “And this one will keep a man asleep as long as it’s on his finger. I won’t go to the drama of a demonstration.”
“That’s likely best,” Vana says mildly. “Last I heard, these weren’t approved for widespread use.”
Daromir is familiar with this invention—Indra once used a sleep-collar on Rakos Tem. He hadn’t realized Radovan had managed to make a miniature version.
“You’re an enchanter, correct?” Naoko asks. “Have you ever worked with a grail?”
Radovan adjusts his spectacles. “Occasionally, but not often. Most of my work requires control more than raw power.”
Daromir itches at the cluttered space. Closed doors in the back, shadows of the loft space overhead. It’s very unsafe. He lightly touches Vana’s arm in farewell, then edges towards the side of the room to start looking through the corners.
“Lord Daromir,” Radovan calls out, sounding annoyed. But when Daromir pauses and glares at him, Radovan just smiles behind his spectacles. “Explore where you will, but please don’t touch anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Daromir says.
He heads towards the bookcases to the right. To Daromir’s surprise, Osric follows him. No wonder everyone is intimidated by the cat. He’s very large, from claw to fang. While he seems calm now, that could change in an instant.
Fine by Daromir. He would rather wrestle a fellcat than listen to Radovan droning on.
Metal and stone clatter behind him. Daromir whirls as Radovan shouts—at Mori, red-faced, scrambling to pick up the stool he just knocked over.
“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t see it,” Mori babbles. “I’ll be super careful. So sorry about that.”
Radovan inhales deeply, red-faced beneath his spectacles.
“Perhaps you should wait in the hallway,” Naoko says. “You’ve been working hard all week.”
Radovan smiles in relief. “Yes, perhaps that would be best.”
Still babbling apologies, Mori tentatively navigates his way out of the laboratory. Radovan resumes his arcane, technical explanations.
Daromir doesn’t understand most of Radovan’s lab. Daromir’s own magic, like that of most warrior mages and High House nobles, is elemental. Instinctive. Enchanters are less powerful and flashy, but their creations can be used by non-mages too, and they’re integral to modern society. Null-collars to subdue enemy mages. Magic lanterns to safely light libraries. Complex plumbing and wyrm detection. Enchanters and blood mages worked together to develop the inheritance spell, which grants magic from a mage to their chosen heir.
But there can’t be anything too important in the laboratory’s main room, or Radovan wouldn’t be letting Daromir and Osric wander around unsupervised. Daromir considers hopping the silk rope to explore upstairs, but Vana specifically warned him to behave. So that’s probably a bad idea.
Osric sits in front of a tall glass-and-grate cage of rats. The cage is a multi-level, luxurious mansion of a maze. Soft bedding, tunnels, even wooden running wheels. Half a dozen plump rats move and sleep, all easily visible to hungry-looking cat eyes.
They aren’t ordinary rats, now that Daromir is looking closer. He’s never seen their like before—mottled, striped, and speckled white and lavender. They blink dark purple eyes through the glass.
