That is such a relief, that I want to run through the streets shouting for joy.
But I won't, don't worry. I will save my elation for tomorrow, when you and I will chase Lukas on our bicycles, to the Nomes' manor, where we will throw fireballs, and teach Lukas to ride a bicycle.'
That idea clearly suited Lukas, for he said: 'I'm glad you trusted me to help you, Paul. I do want to learn to ride a bicycle, see how fast it can go. And after that I think I'll go chase George, you've given me a taste for male company again.' Adding thoughtfully: 'I guess at his age, he must know quite a few tricks.'
Paul and I looked at each other, then laughed at Lukas' professed intentions, I hoped he would tell us all about it. I asked Paul: 'May I borrow your bicycle tomorrow to go to work? It would easily save half an hour.'
When he replied, I heard doubt in his voice, as he said: 'Do you think that is a good idea? I've heard that men regard women on bicycles as tantalising, it might ruin the professional reputation you've built up by wearing suits and
putting up your hair.'
I had not realized it was that bad, but still I was not planning to let other people lead my life for me, so I asked: 'Do you think I'd be in danger riding one?' His answer was not promising: 'I really don't know, you might be.' I didn't like that at all, conventions and male dominance had a lot of potential to make me angry.
He thought of something: 'What if I come with you? You'd not be alone, and we could see how people react. And I wouldn't mind meeting the contractor who likes copper as much as I do.' I tried to think of reasons why this wouldn't be a good idea, but I couldn't think of any. Even the bicycles would be good advertising for Paul's craftsmanship. So I told him: 'I'd love to show you the building and meet that contractor, please do come with me.'
Chapter 29
The next morning we all got up at dawn, Lukas had some projects to work on, and we got the bicycles out of the shed after breakfast and cycled to the site. The roads were fine, reasonably flat and not too many potholes or piles of horse-dung.
That would be different in the middle of the city, but to me, cycling through a dung-pile was still preferable to walking around or jumping over one. The traffic got busier towards the site, but my experience with handling the bicycle improved quickly, and I didn't fall or cause an accident.
I even managed to check the people we passed by, and though a lot of them stared at us, they mainly stared at all of us, the bicycles and the riders, not at me in particular.
Like me, they had never seen a bicycle before, and it was puzzling how we could move so fast with just our own strength to propel us, and why we didn't fall over on those two slim wheels. I saw no leering looks thrown at me, and no-one called after me or threatened me.
Maybe Paul had seen something, I did have to watch the road carefully still, so I could have missed some. There were no obstacles between our house and the site, so we managed to cycle the whole distance, and I think we won at least ten minutes compared to walking, on the way over alone.
When we arrived at the gate, we made quite an entrance. I managed to stop without mishap, and Paul of course swung his leg over the saddle with a flourish.
We leaned the bicycles against the inside fence, near the gate, and had to answer all kinds of questions: was it hard to learn, where did we get those things, what were they called.
Paul answered them quickly and efficiently, I saw one carpenter leer, but he leered at me all the time, so he probably did that to all girls.
Soon, we went towards the cabin, and met the architect. He told me he was very pleased I had checked all the materials with my sixth sense, and though he generally didn't believe in them, mine had proven to be an exception and
very dependable.
He had seen us come in on the bikes, and he proved he could count to two very adequately: ' So this must be the crafts master who made those exquisite little horses, my pleasure to meet you sir, I had you figured for a renowned artist.' I said: 'Paul, may I introduce you to Mr Fritz Fogel, the respected architect from whose brain this building has sprung.
And Mr Fogel, may I introduce Paul Kenwick to you, indeed the maker of the locally famous necklace with the moving horses, and those newfangled bicycles over there.'
They shook hands and Paul graciously said: 'Thank you very much for the compliments, Mr Fogel, I am looking forward very much to seeing your lovely creation from up close.'
The architect now asked: 'Could I perchance try one of your bicycles during the coffee break? I've always wanted to have a go at one of those, it would save a lot of time and effort moving around in the city.' Paul promised him he could, and we took leave and continued towards the cabin.
The two main contractors were there in a heated discussion when we came in, the glass man saying: 'You earn your own living from their money, who do you think pay for the booming business in our line of work?'
My favourite contractor retorted: 'I know that is true, but women and children, working days of up to ten hours, no wonder they are dying like flies! You wouldn't want your own children living in conditions like these?'
We looked at each other, ears pricked, for this might concern our factory. The other man said: 'Of course not, but who says they are dying because of the work, they have been working in those factories for years, but this sickness has only just started to claim so many lives.'
And my favourite: 'But I have read in the papers that large numbers of fish have been dying for no apparent reason for weeks now.'
Apparently, we had missed something, and it was clear Paul thought so too, for he did not hesitate to ask: 'Gentlemen, I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of a discussion, but I couldn't help catching some of your phrases and I'm afraid I have missed some of the news. Would you be so kind as to fill me in?'
'Sure,' the iron contractor said, 'but first let me ask you something, sir: are you by any chance the artist who crafted the lovely copper necklace with horses that really seem to move, which Miss Thorn has taken to wearing
since yesterday?'
Paul acknowledged this with a bow, and the contractor said: 'Then I am really pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Rupert Jones, I am the main contractor on this site, my company has cast the iron frame and installed it, and we are also placing the heating system and organising the landscaping.
Mr James Kent here is responsible for the only element we have no expertise in, the glass panelling' Paul now shook hands with both: 'Paul Kenwick, indeed master craftsman in the field of cast iron and ornamentation in copper and bronze.
But I also invent conveniences, mainly steam-powered or steam-related.
Pleased to meet you both.' The glass contractor now knit his brow: 'Kenwick, that name rings a bell.'
Paul replied, a bit embarrassedly: 'My family has a house in town, and owns some further real estate here, since you're in the business you might have come across the name.'
The iron contractor said: 'You're young to be so skilled, I'll be sure to step by your business soon to talk some shop. But I promised to tell you about the news we were discussing.
Apparently large numbers of fish have been found dead in the river several times the last weeks, without a known cause for their demise, no oxygen starvation, no known disease. It looks like poison.
And just yesterday, several women and children have died suddenly, it seems also from poisoning, but since they all worked in a nearby factory, it is also suspected they may have died from fatigue. A sad business, if you ask me, children should be in school, not in a factory at work.'
Paul looked worried now, and asked: 'Which factory in which quarter, do you know?'
The man answered: 'I think it was a ceramics factory, my wife said she'd never look at her earthenware the same way, now she knew it was made by children's' hands. It was way downstream at any rate, we only have the wool-factory here, unsavoury place though it is, no-one has died there yet. As far as we know.'
Paul thanked him and we took leave,
on our way to check the building. We started on the outside, and Paul was as interested in the techniques used as Lukas.
I could see he was memorising things, probably for the glasshouse he was
going to build for the Nomes'.
Then the bell rang for the morning break, and he fulfilled his promise to the architect, and any other person who wanted to forgo a cup of coffee for a few yards on a bicycle. I helped too, so we could use two bicycles.
When everyone was back at work, we went inside the building, where some of the piping had been welded inside the ditches, and the boiler had arrived!
We went to see it, it was a huge black thing of little beauty, but it looked solid enough.
Paul gave me his hand as I touched the mammoth lump of hollow cast iron, and I felt it for flaws, or to put it in the correct term, I checked it with my sight. The grid was fine, the emanations were staggering, but true.
I couldn't feel a flaw, fortunately, for heads would roll if something was wrong with it and I preferred not to be the bringer of bad news.
'My is it ugly, it hurts both my eyes and my tender feelings,' Paul whispered in my ear.
I asked: 'What would it cost to make a bronze or copper boiler of this size?'
He replied: 'I don't think it can be done, copper and bronze are not strong enough to make a hollow vessel this size. But I wonder if iron is, I don't know if this thing will hold up.
I'd probably install several smaller ones in a series I guess, it also prevents total shutdown if one fails. That would cost about half again what this cost, and ornaments would be extra of course. Not too tired?'
I wasn't. Practising magic every day clearly improved my supply of power. I collected the latest, and nearly last, calculations and drawings at the cabin, and told Paul: 'This job is rapidly approaching its finish, I'm sure I can get another one, but I wonder if I should try to get one step ahead instead. Thanks to the magic I probably could.'
Now Paul turned towards me and said seriously: 'May I ask you to consider quitting it altogether?' My face must have reflected my shock, for I was really disappointed in him: 'What would I want to do that for? To marry you and have children?'
He took my hand and soothingly said: 'Please don't mistake my words, though I'd love to marry you and, yes, in time have children, I didn't mean you should give up your job to be with me.
Actually I do mean you should give up your job to be with me, but only your job, not your work.
I want us to go into business together, make buildings and innovations together, you're an engineer, you can test my ideas, calculate if they're realistic and of course think of your own innovations. We are both sides of a coin, you plan it, I build it. Will you please consider it?'
Relieved that I had misunderstood, and happy he wanted to marry me, I told him: 'I will.' Of course I did that on purpose, my revenge for the shock he gave me.
But he didn't take the bait, he just smiled affably and embraced me, to my distress, for I didn't want to spoil my image of sexlessness, but neither did I want to reject him.
So I tried to answer it as neutrally as possible, and he noticed and said: 'Sorry, I forgot. No hanky panky on the work floor Though we've had plenty on mine.'
'And we will again. Let's get the bicycles and go home, I'm all for lunch,' I said.
'And I'm dying for a few kisses, to make up for what I've missed here,' was his unexpected comment. I looked at him in surprise, and observed: 'You really are different.'
'I hope it's an improvement?' he queried. 'We'll have to see about that,' I said, but actually I was thrilled. I might love this new Paul even more, if that was at all possible.
We collected the bicycles and pedalled home. I was still thrilled by the speed and ease with which we moved, and again, I did not see anyone look at me specifically, people stared but I thought mainly at the idea of travelling on two wheels.
Before we knew it we were back home, putting the bicycles away in the shed and entering the workshop through the back door. Lukas was still working, whistling a merry tune, filing a tiny casting.
He looked up, smiled at us and said: 'Let me finish this tiny ornament and I'll join you for lunch.' Paul ruffled his hair, I kissed him on the cheek, and we went upstairs to prepare lunch. But there was not much more to do than make coffee and get the perishables from the cellar, for Lukas had laid out most of what we needed already.
That left us with a few moments, and I asked Paul: 'This counts as a workplace, doesn't it?' He nodded, and I embraced him and kissed him passionately, my hands in his curls and his exciting scent in my nose. Of
course he returned my affection with fervour, and we enjoyed a few minutes of intimacy.
When Lukas came in, we had a nice lunch, I changed into something less formal, and we retrieved the bicycles and set off. Lukas kept up easily, I had not realized how fast he could run, he didn't show any strain staying just ahead of us, it looked more like a jog than a run. In the run-down neighbourhood, people stared as much, but the roads seemed one big pothole, so I needed all my attention on the road and didn't see a lot of them.
We did manage to cross, and soon were pedalling past the industrial terrain, which was easier because there was no traffic there to spoil the road, it was overgrown with low grass, but not littered with potholes. The neighbourhood past the factory had quite a nice road, of course the factory needed easy access for supplies. Soon we reached Sir Nomes' estate and turned into the gate.
Chapter 30
The gatekeeper waved us past him, and we continued to cycle and run through the woods. At a nice straight stretch of road, I stopped the bicycle and clearly demonstrated its use to Lukas.
He got on, hoofs still in the shoes, one on the pedal and one on the ground.
Then he set off, managing to catch the second pedal on his first try.
He disappeared in the distance, and came back in due time, pedalling really quickly. Just past us, he used the pedal to brake, and even got his foot on the ground before he fell. Of course he was a natural, physical exercise was his thing.
Unclamping the shoes one by one he tried it without them, and when he came back he observed that with shoes was preferable, as long as the clamps would hold. Paul assured him they would, so he did another lap with shoes, stopping it right in front of us with an abrupt brake and a slide.
Paul laughed and said: 'Go make your own bicycle to mistreat, truant!' Lukas replied: 'I may, with rougher tires so I can cross those hills.
Though I can run as fast as the thing goes, I think I'll go for a run now, then swim, then chase George a little.' I said: 'I hope you catch him. You'll tell us about it, won't you?' Already on the move he called: 'I will, every sordid detail, until your ears burn!'
I really loved that cheeky fellow!
The two of us left the bicycles against a tree, then went further into the open grassland. When we were well-removed from the road, Paul started my third lesson on fireballs, with only personal shields.
I conjured one on my hand twice, this was not very tiring anymore, then with Paul's consent gathered energy from outside my own body, and built another one, imagined its heat, then willed it to be, feeling energy flow into my body.
The ball was a beauty, searing hot and totally in my control, but the colour was wrong, it was green instead of the blue I had gotten used to. It didn't feel wrong, so I kept it for a while then dissipated it.
Only then did I see Paul's face in an expression of stunned amazement. 'What
did I do?' I asked him, afraid something had gone wrong.
He blanked out for a moment, then laid a hand on me, contacted my mind, and at that moment I realized I had not felt that most intimate of connections before, when I raised the fireball. This time, the close contact with his mind did not turn me on as much, I guess I was distracted, and besides, we had done this so often now that it was easy to turn off the heat, as it were.
'So what was that about?' I asked.
Paul said: 'You know
about innate magic, you know how to reach mine, and you know some mages steal power by capturing souls. Needless to say that is not allowed in any community, black mages are pariah's, always alone.
But there is another source of power, and that is life itself. Everything living gives off a tiny bit of energy to the environment. But there are a lot of living beings in most places, and all that energy concentrates to little streams of energy called ley-lines.
The ley-lines in turn connect to form nodes.
From the nodes, the energy dissipates, there are several theories where it goes, but that is not our issue today. Our issue is, that only certain mage gifted people can reach for the ley-lines to tap that power. When these mages attain a certain competence, they may even tap a node, though that is always dangerous to the mage and to the environment, for it is a lot of energy to handle, like a lightning bolt.
When you reached out for energy I expected you to access my store of personal energy, the closest source easily available to you. But your talent picked a different source, it tapped a ley-line that lies in this field, causing your fireball to glow green instead of blue, the colour of most personal magic. You are not supposed to be able to access that kind of energy until you reach master status, it is very singular that you should be able to handle it already.
But you did handle it, I saw your control over it. Can you see the ley-lines if you use sight? I looked around with sight, and did indeed see green glowing lines follow the contours of the landscape, like streams and rivers.
Following one towards the mansion I learned why the manor was placed where it was: a shiny node was directly below it, a nice clean source of power right under their home. Of course I didn't touch it, though I supposed I could have, but the lightning simile had rightfully frightened me.
Paul of course had followed my gaze, and when I looked at him he was still
slightly alarmed, letting out a large sigh: 'I feared for a moment that you were going to touch that node.'
I said: 'I did not feel up to wrestling lightning yet.'
Mirror Bound Page 25
