Page 5 of Hawk & Sparrow

“Sir!” a woman in the crowd called out. “Do you mean to say that that little device can produce incantations the same way a sorcerer does?”

Francis Gladwell’s eyes lit up. “Precisely! But I can show you better than I can tell you. I’d now like to give you all a short demonstration, with a real sorcerer’s help.” He searched the atrium, then pointed. “Ah, there! Our gracious host, Mr. Maximilian Kite. Please, sir, join me.”

Vesper craned her neck as she waited to see the old man she’d been looking for. Instead, the young sorcerer she’d met at the dessert table ascended the stage with a champagne flute in hand and gave the crowd a lazy wave. The surrounding violet candlelight illuminated the smug look on his face, and Vesper stared a moment in confusion before it dawned on her.

She’d been duped.

“Mr. Kite!” Francis Gladwell shook the sorcerer’s hand. “I think it’s fair to say that you’re an accomplished sorcerer, no?”

Maximilian Kite gave the inventor an indulgent smile. “Yes, I would say that’s fair.”

“And would you mind sharing how long you’ve studied Thaumaric?”

“Nine years.” The sorcerer’s answer was immediate, and Vesper thought she detected a hint of pride in his voice.

“Excellent!” said Mr. Gladwell. “Then I’m sure you’re more than comfortable giving these good people a quick show of your ability?”

A smirk tugged at the corners of the sorcerer’s mouth. “Is this my exhibition or yours, Mr. Gladwell?”

The inventor smiled, all teeth. “Come now, Mr. Kite, humor us! Just a short demonstration. Unless…” He faced the audience. “Perhaps our sorcerer has developed a bit of stage fright?”

Several people in the crowd tittered, and Vesper watched Maximilian’s smirk falter. He looked down at the champagne glass in his hand, then seemed to make a decision.

“Very well,” he said. “A quick demonstration.” He raised his champagne glass, closed his eyes, and went still. Vesper watched his lips move as he muttered something she couldn’t hear. He might’ve been meditating, or praying. Then she saw it: a purple spark, just like the one she’d seen at the dessert table. The champagne in the sorcerer’s glass began to swirl, though his hand didn’t move so much as an inch. Slowly, it rose from the flute and into the air, hundreds of pale gold droplets glittering against the candlelight. Maximilian kept speaking, his words unintelligible, and Vesper watched as those droplets came together to form something, a shape. She made out a small round head, the point of a tiny beak, then the unmistakable lines of feathers.

A bird, she realized with astonishment.

Maximilian opened his eyes, smiled, and crooked his index finger just slightly. At once, the champagne bird spread its golden wings and began to soar around the atrium and over the heads of the awestruck onlookers. Several people sighed with appreciation, and even Vesper was quietly impressed. The little champagne bird returned to the stage, delivered a final pirouette, then dropped neatly back into Maximilian’s glass. He raised it, as though giving a toast, then bowed. At once the crowd broke into wild applause. When it subsided, the sorcerer nodded to Mr. Gladwell.

“Will that do, Francis?”

“Certainly.” The inventor looked inexplicably amused. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kite. That was quite an impressive little trick. But let’s see how it compares against the capabilities of the Gladwell Machine.” He turned to a woman standing a few feet to the right of Vesper and grinned. “Ma’am, might I ask you for a favor? Name an animal for me, any one you’d like.”

“Hmm…” The woman he’d called on—a middle-aged brunette—smiled. “Dragon.”

“Ah.” Mr. Gladwell grinned. “An excellent choice!” He moved to stand beside his machine. “Mr. Kite just conjured a bird from the champagne in his glass. Now, I don’t happen to have any champagne on hand, but I wonder if I might do something else.” He massaged his chin, as though deliberating, then snapped his fingers. “Yes, I think I’ve got it.” He typed several words onto the Gladwell Machine’s keyboard, flipped its switch, then stood back. For a moment, nothing happened, but then Vesper heard a low hum. She watched as bright purple sparks began to appear between the two copper prongs encased in the Gladwell Machine’s glass dome. They started small, then grew bigger, fizzing and popping like tiny fireworks. It looked like sorcery. The machine began to buzz, and Vesper watched as a small ribbon of paper unfurled from a slot in the machine’s front that she hadn’t noticed. Mr. Gladwell grabbed it, then held the paper aloft.

“An incantation,” he declared, “to create a dragon made not of champagne, but of fire!”

“Mr. Gladwell.” Maximilian suddenly looked alarmed. “Perhaps you might demonstrate your device’s abilities with something slightly less incendiary.”

“Now, now, Mr. Kite.” The inventor patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve had your turn, now it’s mine. Fair is fair.”

Maximilian looked like he wanted to say more, but instead folded his arms and closed his mouth. Vesper noticed that his eyes stayed trained on the paper in Mr. Gladwell’s hand.

The inventor faced the audience again. “Mr. Kite said earlier that he’d studied Thaumaric for nine years. I have not studied it for a single day in my life, and yet I’m going to show you what the power of technology can do.” He looked down at the paper, skimmed the words inked across it, then spoke in a language Vesper had never heard before. The words were strange and slick, like water running across stones in a creek. That had to be Thaumaric. She looked to Maximilian Kite, and saw to her surprise that he was now openly scowling at the inventor, as though Mr. Gladwell had said something obscene. There was a thunderous boom, then, one by one, the inventor seemed to summon the flame from each of the atrium’s candles. Ribbons of bright violet-blue light snaked through the air, gathering above Mr. Gladwell’s raised hands. Like before, a shape began to form as the flames came together, but this time Vesper held her breath. A row of teeth each the length of her finger formed; massive wings sent purple embers into the air as they unfurled. The dragon opened its mouth, and though no sound left it, she imagined its guttural roar in her mind. Her cheeks began to sting, as though she was standing directly in front of an open stove. Several people in the crowd gasped with delight and fear.

“Behold!” Francis gestured toward the fiery dragon as it writhed and coiled above him. “This is what real technological advancement looks like. This is the power of the Gladwell Machine!”

“Mr. Gladwell!” Maximilian’s eyes were on the fiery dragon. He’d gone pale. “I believe you’ve made your point!”

The inventor looked up. If he was at all concerned about the dragon, he showed no sign of it as he lowered his hands. At once, the fiery apparition disintegrated, and the ribbons of fire returned to their candles around the room. Vesper touched the back of her hand to her forehead. Her skin was still warm. She noticed that one of the chandeliers above the stage now bore unmistakable black scorch marks.

“That was only a taste of the Gladwell Machine’s potential, a parlor trick,” said Mr. Gladwell. “But make no mistake: It has the ability to do far more. Think of it! This machine can produce incantations that allow us to manipulate the natural elements and energy around us! We could modernize society, inspire advancements in every industry. It could truly change the world.”

An unexpected tide of emotion swelled in Vesper’s chest. The clapping around her began slowly, but in a matter of seconds, the entire atrium had broken into thunderous applause. She joined in. What if Mr. Gladwell was right? If what he was saying was true, his machine would give everyone access to sorcery and the limitless power that came with it. It could be the great equalizer, the thing that finally leveled the playing field between sorcerers and common folk. This was more than a history-defining moment; it was just the sort of splashy, front-page story that would get readers clamoring for copies of the Globe’s Sunday paper. She could already see the headline: Gladwell Unveils Groundbreaking Machine. She pulled out her notebook and began to write feverishly.

“The device before you is only a rudimentary prototype,” Mr. Gladwell went on. “But my company, Gladwell Enterprises, has already secured a patent for its design. My plan is to begin mass production at the top of the new year. I hope to count some of you as early investors, and of course many more of you as future buyers.” The inventor grinned. “With that, I thank you all for your time!”