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Farrendel took his own slouch cap. It was soft with a small brim in the front and a band around the bottom. When he put it on, he made sure his ears were tucked into the band. The ends of his hair stuck out from under the cap, and in the reflective surface of the glass windows, he looked like a human lad off to find work at a factory.
When Captain Merrick was satisfied with their disguises, they left the palace grounds through the gate by Buckmore Cottage. Captain Merrick was also dressed as a laborer, as were the two other human guards he had tasked to go with them, though they had small, Escarlish guns hidden beneath their coats.
While Captain Merrick and Iyrinder stuck close to Farrendel, as if they were merely three human brothers, the other two guards stayed at a distance, keeping a wary eye while pretending they were not with them.
Unlike last time, when all eyes had been on Farrendel and Essie as they rode through the streets, this time no one even gave him a second glance. It was reassuring, if a little nerve-wracking, as he had to shove through the crowd at Captain Merrick’s heels. People bumped him with their shoulders and jostled him with their elbows. Sometimes they apologized, but often they went on their way as if such invasion of personal space was normal.
The noise of all the talking people, rumbling carriages, tramping feet, and street hawkers shouting about their wares assaulted his ears to the point he wished he had stuffed them with moss before leaving the palace.
His heart was pounding harder, his breathing growing ragged. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
Farrendel clenched his fists and tried to take calming breaths. He could not afford to dissolve into panic in the middle of this crowd.
Just when he was not sure if he could keep it together, they popped out into a quieter side street. Farrendel leaned against the brick wall of a building, gulping in lungfuls of air and trying to pretend his hands were not shaking.
Captain Merrick thankfully did not comment while he and Iyrinder waited for Farrendel to piece himself back together.
When Farrendel felt steadier, he nodded, and they continued on their way.
Lance Marion’s workshop was a large, brick building set among a number of other massive brick buildings that were most likely factories or warehouses, though Farrendel could not tell which. Lance’s shop was unmarked, and one of the unassuming wooden doors was propped open, as if Lance had no fear that anyone would try to rob him. Perhaps they would not dare, considering Lance’s reputation for causing magical explosions.
Captain Merrick nodded to Farrendel. “We will remain just inside the door.”
“Thank you.” Farrendel appreciated that he could relax while spending time with Lance, knowing that Captain Merrick, Iyrinder, and the two other guards were making sure no one could attack him.
When Farrendel stepped inside, the cluttered space felt strangely cozy. Piles of random bits of metal, half-finished devices, and weapons were stacked haphazardly around the cavernous space. The towers of junk were so tall that Farrendel could only see a small section of the building at a time.
A distant mechanical beeping sound came from the far corner, then the scrambling of boots on the paved floor.
A young man, who looked only a few years older than Farrendel, careened around a pile of junk. He wore baggy, grease-stained clothing with the sleeves of his gray shirt rolled to his elbows. A pair of goggles pushed onto his forehead was the only thing taming his disheveled, light brown hair. His gaze was glued to a small device in his hand. It held a couple of dials and a red, flashing light.
“Farrendel!” Lance grinned, still not looking up from his device. “I see you are still maxing out the range of my magical sensor, even though I increased the top end of the range exponentially during the war. What do you think of my new model? It has a flashing light instead of a beep when it is activated. During the war, it let us know when an attack was coming, though I had to keep the sensors away from your brother since his presence would set them off.”
Farrendel felt his muscles relaxing further. Lance did not comment on his hair or how he was dressed. He did not even seem to notice. Even better, he did not ask how Farrendel was or how he was feeling.
It was oddly nice to be treated as if nothing had happened.
“Come on to the back. I have a whole bunch of magical power cells you can fill with your magic, if you would like. I had to blow up the other one. Could you feel it when it went off?” Lance led the way through the piles of metal items, only glancing over his shoulder briefly as he asked the question.
“Yes. I was able to gather much of the magic back to myself. It gave me a boost to my access to my magic when I was surrounded by stone.” Farrendel had to duck under a beam that was precariously balanced between two towers of junk.
“Fascinating! Human magicians cannot retrieve their magic like that. It is not so connected to them the way elven magic appears to be.” Lance rounded one last junk pile, and they reached the far corner where he had his main workspace.
Here, a device sat in the corner, walled off from the workbench and tools. That was where Lance had human magicians—and Farrendel the last time he was here—fill magical power devices. Tempered glass barriers provided protection in the case of magical explosions. Along one wall, a bunch of empty power devices sat in a row while a small device with a metal stove coil on top sat on the workbench.
Lance strode over to it and picked it up. “I got a start on the heating device Essie requested, but I’m not finished yet. I was thinking we could try to power it with your magic. That way, you could replenish it yourself when needed. No sense for you of all people to have to buy magical power cells when you have enough magic at your fingertips to power all of Escarland for a year.”
“If we can get my magic to refrain from blowing up the device, it would be acceptable to use it as the source of power.” Farrendel stepped closer to the device, spotting the small space where the power cell was supposed to go. Would they be able to contain his magic into such a small device?
If they could pull it off, it would be a dream come true to use his magic for something besides killing. He had never been able to use his magic to power things in Tarenhiel. Most elven magic and elven technology was powered using growing magic, a kind of living energy that just got killed off when paired with Farrendel’s power.
“Oh, sure. We just need to find the right metals that will conduct your magic rather than be incinerated by it. Or a way to dampen it to make it less volatile and more manageable.” Lance tugged the goggles down from his forehead to cover his eyes. He picked up a second pair of goggles from the workbench and tossed them to Farrendel. “Here. You’ll want to put these on, and then we can get to work.”
Farrendel caught the goggles, then took off his hat and coat and set them on a nearby chair. The goggles were much easier to put on when he did not have to worry about them getting caught in his long hair, though he still had to ensure that the tips of his ears were not pinched in the strap.
Perhaps it was Lance’s absentminded enthusiasm, but Farrendel found himself telling the inventor something he had only told Essie. “Stone dampens my magic.”
“Does it? We’ll have to experiment to determine how much and if it could steady your magic enough to use in the power cell as I am envisioning.” Lance started flipping switches and pushing buttons on the large device set behind a protective wall. The magic-storing device whirled to life.
