“Network status is stable. The seasonal energy fluctuations Thomas mentioned are being handled.” I rubbed my temples. “The village connections are all reading normal. No major maintenance issues.”

  “We should mention the anchor degradation in sector seven.”

  “It’s within acceptable parameters.”

  “Barely within acceptable parameters. Rose will notice.”

  He was right. Rose noticed everything.

  The council chambers were just up ahead. The modest stone building served multiple purposes for Millbrook’s civic functions. Today it would serve as our connection point to a network that linked seven villages across the eastern provinces.

  “Erasmus is going to hear us like this,” I realized.

  “Through a resonance chamber,” Felix said. “The audio quality isn’t that good.”

  “He’ll know. He always knows.”

  Tom held the door open. “Could be worse. We could be meeting him in person.”

  That was true. Small mercies, I suppose.

  Chapter 3

  Too Many Voices

  The council chambers smelled like old paper and dust. I had been in this room dozens of times for various civic functions, but today the familiar scent made my stomach turn. The hangover had faded from agony to merely unpleasant, but my head still throbbed with every heartbeat.

  Felix and I moved to the resonance equipment and began the final calibrations. The crystalline arrays hummed as we activated them and sent faint vibrations through the stone floor.

  Mayor Weatherby watched from a few feet away. She circled the primary resonance chamber slowly and studied the brass cups connected by their copper-wound tube.

  “This is the device that lets you speak across distances?” she asked.

  “One of a dozen we’ve built so far,” I said. “Rose designed the housings. Tom forged them. Felix and I inscribed the conversion wards.”

  “And it works reliably?”

  “We’ve maintained consistent connections across seven villages for months now.” Felix adjusted one of the mana crystal mounts at the junction point. “The network handles seasonal energy fluctuations automatically.”

  Weatherby’s expression shifted from curiosity to calculation. “What would it take to install one permanently in the council chambers?”

  “We can discuss terms after the meeting,” I said.

  Sarah and Tom found seats along the wall. Sarah caught my eye and mouthed “good luck” with a slight smile.

  “Activating the node,” I announced.

  The chamber pulsed with amber light. I felt the connection snap into place like a key in a lock. Voices began to emerge from the listening cup.

  “Millbrook is online.” Thomas’s voice came through first, clear and professional as always. “I have you at full strength.”

  “Thornbury connected,” said Master Aldwin, Rose’s mentor in the Artificers Guild. His voice carried the particular rasp of a man who had spent decades working with crystal dust and alchemical fumes

  “Can you hear me?” Rose’s voice overlapped with Aldwin’s. She sounded excited. “The new frequency modulation is working perfectly. I adjusted the crystal alignment last night and the clarity improved by at least thirty percent.”

  “Capital node active,” said Erasmus. Even through the resonance chamber I could hear the exhaustion in his tone. “I can spare perhaps twenty minutes. The situation here requires attention.”

  “Valdris standing by.” Prince Adrian’s voice joined the chorus. “Good morning, everyone.”

  The sound hit my hungover brain like a hammer and I closed my eyes against the assault. Too many people talking. Too many words bouncing off the chamber walls. I pressed my fingers against my temples and forced myself to breathe.

  Focus. I had done this before. The trick was to let the voices wash over me until my mind sorted them into individual streams.

  “Marcus?” Felix’s elbow found my ribs. “Are you still with us?”

  “Present,” I managed. “Just adjusting.”

  The mayor cleared her throat. The sound cut through the chatter and the other voices quieted.

  “Let’s have reports in order,” she said. “Thomas, you first. Network status.”

  Thomas’s voice came through clear and steady. “The village network is functioning well overall. Seven nodes active with stable connections. Energy distribution remains balanced within acceptable parameters.”

  “Any concerns?” Whitmore asked.

  “The seasonal transition is creating some fluctuations. Spring energy patterns differ from winter and several nodes required manual adjustment over the past two weeks. Ashford and Fernbrook in particular.” He paused and papers rustled somewhere far away. “Nothing critical. I’m handling it case by case.”

  “That’s inefficient,” Rose said. Her voice carried the particular tone of someone who had been waiting for an opening. “You shouldn’t have to manually adjust every node every time the seasons change. I’ve been working on something to make the automatic adjustment more efficient.”

  Master Aldwin chuckled. “She’s been working on something for three weeks. Haven’t been able to get her to sleep properly since the idea struck.”

  “It’s a finite state system,” Rose continued. She ignored her mentor with the ease of long practice. “The ward configurations would shift automatically based on ambient energy patterns. When spring energy signatures reach a certain threshold, the system switches to spring configuration. Same for summer, autumn, and winter.”

  Silence filled the chamber. I opened my eyes and found Felix staring at the resonance chamber with raised eyebrows.

  “That’s ambitious,” Thomas said slowly. “You’re talking about wards that make decisions.”

  “Not decisions. Responses. Like how a preservation ward responds to temperature changes, but scaled up.” Rose’s excitement bled through the connection. “The configurations would be preset. The system just detects which one to use.”

  “That could work,” Felix said. He had pulled out his notebook and started sketching. “You’d need detection arrays at each node tuned to seasonal energy signatures. The transition logic would have to account for regional variations.”

  “I’ve already drafted the detection framework,” Rose said. “Master Aldwin helped with the artificing integration. But I’ll need you and Marcus to handle the ward inscription work. Probably in a few months when I have the full system designed.”

  “Send us your notes,” I said. The technical discussion had pushed through my hangover fog. This was good work. Genuinely innovative. “We’ll review and provide feedback.”

  “I’ll have a full proposal ready by next week.”

  “Adequate progress,” Erasmus cut in. His voice carried an edge that silenced the conversation. “The network functions. Rose’s innovation shows promise. Now I need to update you on the capital situation before I lose this window.”

  Something in his tone made everyone pay attention.

  “The eastern infrastructure failures are worse than projected,” Erasmus continued. “Three more cascade events this week. We’re rebuilding from scratch in two districts and the resources are stretched beyond reasonable limits.”

  “How long?” Whitmore asked.

  “Months. Perhaps longer. Certain parties are making demands that complicate the reconstruction work.” He sighed. “I cannot discuss the details. Suffice to say I will not be returning to Millbrook in the near future.”

  The mayor shifted uncomfortably. Even through the resonance chamber, I could sense the tension in the capital node.

  “Is there anything we can do?” I asked.

  “Continue your work. Maintain the network. Document everything.” Erasmus’s voice softened slightly. “You’ve built something valuable. Don’t let it deteriorate while I’m occupied elsewhere.”

  “We won’t,” Felix said.

  “I’ll update you when circumstances allow. Stay safe.” The capital node went quiet. It stayed connected but silent. Erasmus had said what he needed to say.

  The absence of his voice left a hollow space in the conversation.

  “Well then,” Prince Adrian said after a moment. “Perhaps this is a good time for my news. It’s considerably more cheerful.”

  “Please,” the mayor said. “We could use cheerful.”

  “The Northern Kingdoms have a problem. Specifically, Keldrath has a problem. Their ward infrastructure is failing across multiple systems. Preservation, defense, water purification, and climate control.” Adrian’s voice took on the formal cadence of a diplomatic briefing. “The issue is materials. Traditional ward construction requires imported components that have become prohibitively expensive. Local glyphwrights know their craft but cannot afford the supplies.”

  “Price inflation?” I asked. The merchant part of my brain woke up at the mention of supply problems.

  “Significant price inflation. Materials that cost ten gold two years ago now cost forty. The trade routes from Ironpeak and Thornwall have become strangled by costs that no one can explain.”

  Felix and I exchanged glances. Prices didn’t quadruple without cause.

  “Prince Duncan of Keldrath has asked for assistance,” Adrian continued. “Specifically, he’s asked for glyphwrights who can redesign ward systems to work with locally available materials instead of expensive imports. I recommended Fairwind and Penwright.”

  Local materials instead of imports. The same approach that had caused all our trouble with the Guild was now attracting royal attention.

  “We’d need to prepare,” I said. My mind had already started calculating logistics. “The shop has obligations. Customers with standing orders.”

  “Whitmore can manage local work in your absence,” the mayor said. She had shifted from skeptical to thoughtful. “This is an opportunity for Millbrook. Our glyphwrights solving problems for allied kingdoms.”

  “Official summons will arrive within the week,” Adrian said. “It will consist of a royal carriage for transport and Kyle’s Silver Compass Company to escort you north. They had their own contract in the region and the timing aligned.”

  “Kyle’s escorting us?” Felix asked. “That’s convenient.”

  “I arranged for convenience. The journey takes approximately one week. We’ll meet Prince Duncan in Valdmere and assess the situation firsthand.”

  The conversation shifted to travel arrangements, timeline, and what to pack and what to leave behind. I half-listened while Felix took notes and the mayor asked sensible questions about diplomatic protocols.

  Through it all, Erasmus’s silence hung over the connection like a shadow.

  The meeting ended twenty minutes later. The resonance chamber dimmed as nodes disconnected one by one. Thomas signed off with a promise to send Rose’s proposal notes. Rose said goodbye with barely contained excitement about the seasonal system. Master Aldwin reminded her to actually sleep tonight.

  Adrian was last.

  “Marcus, Felix. A moment before I disconnect.”

  “We’re here,” I said.

  “This contract matters. Not just for Keldrath, but for demonstrating what your methods can accomplish. If you succeed, other kingdoms will take notice.” He paused. “Duncan is a good man. He’s direct and honest. He’ll give you whatever support you need.”

  “We appreciate the recommendation,” Felix said.

  “You earned it. Safe travels when the time comes.” The Valdris node went silent.

  Whitmore began shutting down the equipment. The mayor departed with a nod and a reminder to keep her informed. Tom and Sarah rose from their seats and joined us near the resonance chamber.

  “The Northern Kingdoms,” Tom said. He grinned with the particular delight of someone who had not been invited on a long journey. “Sounds cold.”

  “It’s spring,” Felix said. “It won’t be that cold.”

  “It’s always cold in the north.” His grin widened. “That’s why they call it the north.”

  Sarah slipped her hand into mine. Her fingers were warm against my still-clammy palm.

  “Northern Kingdoms,” she said quietly. “That’s far.”

  “I’ll write whenever I can find a courier heading south.” I squeezed her hand. “And I’ll set aside materials to build an extra resonance chamber. One for the shop. That way if something urgent comes up, you can reach me through the network.”

  “Urgent like what?”

  “Like you missing me too much to wait for letters.”

  She smiled and bumped her shoulder against mine. “That’s a frivolous use of magical infrastructure.”

  I grinned. “Perks of being one of the inventors.”

  “You’d better write. Long letters. With details.” She smiled but her eyes held concern. “This is bigger than the village network. A whole different kingdom and politics.”

  “Same problems,” I said. “Just scaled up.”

  Felix closed his notebook and tucked it under his arm. “We should start preparing. Lists of materials to bring. Documentation of our local-material adaptations. Reference texts.”

  “We have a week,” I said.

  “We have a week to prepare for a contract that could establish our reputation across multiple kingdoms.” Felix already headed for the door. “That’s barely enough time.”

  Tom clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “Try not to redesign an entire kingdom’s infrastructure without me.”

  “No promises.”

  Sarah walked with me out of the council chambers and into the morning light. Millbrook spread before us in familiar patterns. The mill wheel turned and merchants opened their shops in the ordinary rhythm of a town that had become home.

  In a week I would leave it behind to travel to a foreign kingdom, solve problems that had defeated local experts, and represent everything Felix and I had built together.

  The hangover had faded entirely. In its place sat anticipation.

  “You’re excited,” Sarah observed.

  “Terrified, actually,” I admitted. “But also excited.”

  “Good.” She squeezed my hand once more and then let go. “Terror keeps you sharp. Now go help Felix make his lists. I have bread to bake.”

  She headed toward the bakery. I watched her go and then turned toward the shop and jogged to catch back up to Felix.

  The Northern Kingdoms awaited.

  But first, we had lists to make.

  Chapter 4

  Seating Arrangements

  The Brass Monkey smelled like roasted meat and fresh bread. Midday sun streamed through the windows and lit up the dust motes floating above our table. I sat with Sarah on one side and watched Felix drown across from us.

  Katherine had spread fabric swatches across half the table. Color-coded lists covered the other half. A seating chart with tiny name cards occupied the space where Felix’s lunch should have been. His ale sat untouched near his elbow because there was nowhere safe to set it down.

  “The Hendersons can’t sit near the Blackwoods,” Katherine said. She moved a name card from one section of the chart to another. “There was that incident at the harvest festival three years ago.”

  “What incident?” Felix asked.

  “No one talks about it. That’s how you know it was serious.” She frowned at the arrangement. “But if I move them to table seven, that puts them next to the Marsh family, and Mrs. Marsh is still upset about the goat.”

  “What goat?”

  “The one that ate her prize roses. It belonged to the Hendersons.”

  Felix rubbed his temples. “How many feuds does this town have?”

  “Enough to make seating arrangements a tactical exercise.” Katherine shuffled three more cards. “And we haven’t even started on your family’s side yet.”

  “My family’s side has twelve people. Eight of them barely speak to each other.”

  “Which is why I’ve put them at separate tables with strategic buffer zones.” Katherine pointed to a section of the chart. “Your aunt Millicent here. Your uncle Bernard on the opposite side of the room. Your mother, if she decides to show up will be in the center where she can see everyone but reach no one quickly.”

  Tom leaned back in his chair and grinned. Claire sat beside him with her hand resting on his arm. She had arrived yesterday for a brief visit and would leave again in three days. University obligations waited in Westbridge.

  “This is better than the theater,” Tom said.

  “You’re not helping,” Felix told him.

  “I’m not trying to help. I’m enjoying the show.”

  Katherine’s sister Vivian sat at the end of the table. She had the look of someone who had survived a war and emerged with hard-won wisdom. Her own wedding had happened two months ago, and the experience still showed in her eyes.

  “Wait until Mother gets involved,” Vivian said. She sipped her tea with the calm of a woman who no longer had to care. “This is the easy part.”

  Katherine went pale. “She’s already sent three letters this week.”

  “Only three? Wow. She’s showing restraint.” Vivian set down her cup. “When I planned mine, she sent daily updates about the seventeen distinct shades of cream and why choosing the wrong one would doom the entire ceremony.”

  “Seventeen shades?” Sarah asked.

  “With names like moonlit ivory and summer’s first blessing. She had charts.” Vivian shook her head. “I still have nightmares about fabric selection.”

  “She made me hold swatches up to candles at different times of day,” Katherine added. “To see how they looked in various lighting conditions.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Felix offered.

  Both sisters turned to stare at him.

  “It does not sound reasonable,” Vivian said. “It sounds like madness dressed up in organizational skills. By the end, I could distinguish between antique pearl and whispered cream at twenty paces. That’s not a skill anyone should have.”