Page 200 of The Discount Damsel

“I got it, I got it,” he snapped when Bradley tensed in his seat.

“What is that?” The apprentice pointed to a small structure protruding from the southeast portion of the roof. A louvered window blocked the view inside.

“It’s the attic vent,” Dirk said. “How do you think the pigeons get out to attack me?”

“I don’t think it is,” the princess said. “If the pigeons used it, wouldn’t there be droppings everywhere around it? And why would it be louvered?”

“Dirk, get closer,” Bradley urged.

“I’m telling you, the pigeons are all gonna fly out of there in a tizzy and shit on me, and I’ve already had a rough couple of days. No, thank you.”

“You don’t sense that? There’s magic in there. Stronger than I’ve ever felt. How can you not smell that?”

“I’m turning into a wyrm, remember?” Dirk snarled.

Bradley thumped him on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled. “Hold on.”

Wobbling through the air, Dirk angled closer to the roof. Bradley slipped from the Great Red’s back, slid down his leg, and gripped the cargo net. Leaning out, he swiped for the dormer’s window and caught one of the slats. It took only a jerk for the louvres to straighten and reveal a silver scroll tube on a pillow of blue satin, guarded by an environmental force field created by four crystals. A single word was etched along the tube’s length in beautiful penmanship.

What was it Master Excelsior had said? “Go outside. It’s time to stop reading about others’ discoveries and go make some for yourself.”

Go outside. Had that been prophetic, or was it merely coincidental?

“So not an attic vent,” the luck dragon said. “Huh. Sure reeks of pigeon.”

“Millie,” Bradley said, hardly daring the breathe, “what does ren—” His stuttered activated, so he spelled the High Aetherial word out instead.

“Renovatio? Surely you know.”

“I do, but I’m never mistranslating again.”

“It means ‘restoration’ or ‘making new again.’ Bradley, is that a restorative spell in there?”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER 81

THE SECRET OF THE PIGEONS, DIRK IS VERY UNWELL, AND DUCHESS REVEALS A WAY

Dirk botched the landing in the workroom, bruising more than just his ribs, but he didn’t care. “Get into that attic!”

Bradley scrambled up the ladder, Millie chasing after him. The pigeons cooed and rustled at their appearance but remained roosted.

“Piss and plagues!” The princess tried to spritz jasmine perfume onto a handkerchief, but she’d used the last of it to counteract Renaldo’s pheromones. She smothered her nose and mouth with the cloth anyway and turned to ladder. “Master Dirk? If you’re able to, bring fire.”

Bradley’s excitement was the only thing suppressing his gag reflex. “I never noticed that little window before because I’ve never left the tower before, and when Dirk and I first arrived, we came in from the north. The pigeons have always gone mad whenever I’ve approached this section of the attic, but I thought that was because they were just pigeons—neurotic little rats with wings. They’ve been guarding it.”

“But couldn’t you sense the magic?”

“Not when I was getting attacked—I was too preoccupied by protecting my eyes. But I have sensed it before,” he realized. “Down in the workroom. I couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, and neither could Pocket with her hag stone. That’s because it was above us, not hidden in the clutter.”

It was so stupidly simple that Bradley wanted to throttle first Master Excelsior and then himself.

Millie swung a look around the room. “That’s a lot of beaks. How are we going to get past that?”

Bradley had already thought of an idea and was scrambling down the ladder. He rooted around in the cargo net of their luggage and extracted her parasol. “I promise I’ll get you another one.”