“Why is it always you who ends up in my office?” our headmaster said, looking down at me.

  “Honestly, sir, I’ve no idea why I’m here.”

  “He had nothing to do with it, sir,” Simon protested.

  “You two expect me to believe that?” He leaned over his desk, glaring.

  “Sir,” I told him, my hackles raising. “We’ve met. When have you known me to lie? If I’d done something I thought you’d be this angry over, I’d just tell you.”

  He narrowed his eyes even more, picking up a small box and putting it on the desk between us. With a frown I opened it, and inside I found something most unexpected. The pieces were small and complex, more complex than most people worked with, but they weren’t mine. This wasn’t machined, but rather magically constructed, and while I could see clearly that they moved, I didn’t know what they did. There were even a pair of highly polished gems.

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “Pieces of a golem, headmaster,” Simon responded. “Percival had nothing to do with this; it was all me.”

  “You? Young Simon, a skilled enough student you may be, but I’ve seen enough over the years to know that you’re not good enough to design these. I’d even doubt you could come up with the instructions to make them on your own.”

  That was why I’d been brought in then. The headmaster thought I had helped him create a golem; though this one would only be about the size of my palm. I hadn’t, of course. They were rare things; hard to design, harder to control. Magically speaking, they were among the most complex of projects.

  “Ah … I didn’t do it either. The designs and instructions came from a book. My father designed these; they’re supposed to be a toy. He never made any, but there’s this girl, and I thought …”

  “That you would make a highly banned item in my school?” the older man growled.

  It was true. There were laws, lots of them, about magical items. Certain wards were disallowed, too dangerous to the public, certain functions completely banned for even study. Golems themselves were highly, highly regulated, to the point that I’d never even seen one. Most of the designs were showpieces, kept to prove that it could be done, like war engines, useful for generations of people.

  The law used to be a lot looser, a lot more permissive on what people could make, but there’d been incidents. As both magical theory and technology increased, so too had the dangers of certain spells; ideas that wouldn’t have been feasible in years past were now very possible. In the case of golems, there’d been a particularly bad incident where a security model had become confused about what it was to guard and from whom. Massive magically enhanced metal monsters were not simple to kill, and that one had required military intervention in the form of artillery bombardment. Golem construction had been highly regulated afterward.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t think—” Simon began.

  “Clearly, golems don’t either,” the headmaster said, interrupting Simon. “That’s the problem with them. A golem made to dig, digs; it doesn’t care if there are people in the way, or buildings, or anything else. Even simple toys made to do things like run in circles can become dangerous if there’s nothing to stop them, no proper protections. These things are banned for a reason, boy!” Then he turned to me. “Well, Percival, you at least have my apology. It seems that for once in the past two years you’re actually not part of the mess I find on my desk.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said quickly, happy to be excused.

  “Leave now while I decide what to do with your companion here.”

  It wasn’t until dinnertime that I managed to find Simon again. I’d been worried when he missed our next class, but he was still here, just looking thoroughly tired.

  “You all right there?” I asked, sliding in next to him at a table.

  “Yes, I’m … well.”

  “What happened? Percival here wouldn’t share the details,” Lucas added, joining us. He may have been an upperclassman, but he still hung out with us every now and again. “Though, he did insist it wasn’t his doing this time. What’d you do? Sneak naughty pictures into the school? Steal from a classroom?”

  “I was trying to make something I shouldn’t have, and he got dragged in because he’s a troublemaker,” Simon said, looking over to me. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

  “It’s fine,” I answered. “What I’m more interested in is how you planned to actually make it. That would imply you finished at least the first level of your core, wouldn’t it?”

  I knew the people in the class for making magical items this year, and Simon here wasn’t one of them. How did he plan to make a golem if he couldn’t even do that? No, if he was planning that, if he even went through the effort of making the parts, he had to have thought of that issue.

  “Uh … don’t share it around, but I got one years ago.”

  “What, how?” Lucas asked.

  Simon seemed a bit taken aback. “Dad’s a wizard, likes books and all that stuff. He taught me when he thought it was right. Reason I don’t advertise is, well, it’s kind of nerdy, isn’t it?”

  “Should I take that as a personal insult?” I asked lightly. I didn’t think he meant it as one, but I didn’t like his tone.

  “No, I mean, you do amazing things with machines—guns and engines whatnot—not … toys and pretty lights. Does that make sense?”

  “Only if you’re willing to help me with a few projects,” I asked with a smile.

  “What do you have in mind?” Simon asked. Lucas just laughed.

  Chapter 4

  ✶

  A Proposition

  Ididn’t care about Simon just because of golems. Sure, I could, in theory, come up with some great ideas of what to do with them but, more importantly, he had access to an actual core. One of those was illegal to have around. It was a tool of extreme danger. A golem was normal, something anyone could have, something anyone could use themselves.

  Simon was also a friend though, so I wouldn’t draw him into the worst of my ideas, but there were so many. Before we could do anything serious, I wanted to see some basics first. Everyone had their own way of doing things, and I wondered what his was.

  “So, can you show me some of the things you’ve made?” I inquired when we’d made our way back to the dorm buildings.

  “I can, but I’m surprised that you’re not able to do it already. Is there a reason you’ve not fully built your first core yet?” he asked.

  Cores came in three basic levels, and while the literature dithered on what each should be called, it was a simple progression. The first level, often called the apprentice core, would allow the most basic of enchantments and was what most people used. Then came the journeyman core, which was robust and constructed with more depth, allowing for far more to be done. Finally, there was the master core, which had extensive functions and was used by almost nobody due to the complexity at which one needed to work to make it function properly.

  “No time,” I responded.

  “You’ve been working on that kind of thing for like a year though?”

  “And it normally takes a year or more for that first level to be complete. Thing is I can’t put the kind of time I need into building upon it.”

  “Why?”

  “Have you seen my class schedule?” I laughed. It was well known among my friends that I hardly had free time for anything.

  “All right then, but can’t you buy anything you want? Your family is easily as wealthy as mine.” That too was true, but it was true for almost everyone here.

  “Hardly,” I replied. “My parents give me an allowance, and custom-made pieces for my own enjoyment are not in the budget.”

  Almost everyone at our school was wealthy in some way or another. That was just part of being able to wield magic. There was an endless need for enchantments, for spellwork, for powerhouses in any industry. Even the staff at my home who had minor magics, like my sister, weren’t poor, and probably never would be. Her income, and the income of anyone with such abilities, was several times what a non-magical person would make.

  “And I’m assuming you don’t bother to make your own money to supplement it either?” I did, but that was hardly his business, particularly because my money had come mostly from selling guns to the local government, or at least the plans for the weapons.

  “Now, now, this is hardly the time to be speaking of such things. I just wanted to see what you can do.”

  “So you can use me,” he griped.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but closed it. He’d pointed it out too quickly for me to deny.

  “My apologies, Simon. That was what I was doing, wasn’t it? I was seeing what I wanted, not what you wanted.”

  “Well, you did get pulled into my mess, so I wasn’t going to complain too much …”

  Simon wasn’t my closest friend, but he was still a friend, and I’d wronged him. That … hurt. I knew people like that in both of my lives, and I wanted to do better, be better. Too many people longed for a second chance like the one I’d gotten, a chance to live a life different from the one they’d had, a chance to fix the mistakes they’d made, and here I was taking it for granted. I stopped where I was, drifting off into thought.

  “No, you’re right to complain. I was being a proper fool. I’ll agree that it was annoying for me to get pulled into your nonsense, but you don’t owe me anything at all for it, do you? After all, nothing really came of it. That said, I’d still love to see your work, if you’ll show me.”

  Simon didn’t answer me at first, and then finally laughed and punched me in the shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  “Stop being serious,” he said. “Come now, let’s go.”

  Simon was feeling generous enough to show me some of his work, and honestly it wasn’t all that impressive. Sure, everything was magic, but he wasn’t doing much with it. There was a lamp, a heater for water, and a few other odds and ends that he’d made, but all were the simplest versions that could be made. There were no controls to change the intensity, no frills, barely an on/off control to them. Even if everything worked, they didn’t work optimally, and they didn’t do anything other than the most basic functions.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked.

  “I think if this is your work, you weren’t ready for making a golem. Simon, I know you’re better than all this. Even if you don’t like this kind of thing, it’s not something you should put away, or ignore.”

  “Well, everything works, does it not?” he griped.

  “It could work better, which we both know. You were going to impress some girl with a fancy item, but what would have happened had she ever seen you using this?” I asked, poking his lamp to turn it on, then off. It was a simple cube, and frankly, ugly. All of his items were unbelievably ugly.

  “That’s true …”

  With a smile, I made a proposition. “Maybe my eyes were getting a bit big for what I wanted, too, but I do have a proposal, if you’re interested.” At his raised eyebrow I continued. “Why don’t we remake these? I could certainly use the practice, and between the two of us we have the skills to make much nicer things for you.”

  “And what are you getting out of this?” he asked.

  “Practice, and seeing the process in action; though, I won’t complain if you decide to make a few extras. I know plenty of theory, and I’m sure I can machine out a few nice outer shells for these, but I’ve never done it. Even the professors have only shown us the whole thing once or twice.”

  “All right, let’s do it,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter 5

  ✶

  Prepping for Work

  Simon and I had to wait a bit to really get to work, mostly because I was too busy to do much more than I already was. That said, I did give him a few tips on what he should look for in features and even loaned him a couple of my schoolbooks on programming. The latter would help for looking up commands and useful sequences but didn’t really contain anything groundbreaking.

  While he did that, I thought about some shell designs and how I’d go about making each of them, along with how I’d do what he should be doing—nothing too specific, just some basic notes. Even so, we had access to the shop in the school, and I was sure that we could come up with something quite nice. In fact, I had some ideas based on pieces from my previous world that I thought might go over well.

  The evening before our day off we had time, so we went to see Professor Ruian.

  “Good evening, Professor,” I said as the two of us entered her office. “I was hoping that we might have you look over something.”

  “Hopefully not some attempt to make another weapon with my tools,” she said with a frown. Apparently, what I’d done had gotten back to her.

  “No, ma’am,” I said. “I promise we won’t be doing that.”

  “Or any other illegal items,” she responded, pointedly looking at Simon.

  “No, Professor,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed.

  “Hmm, what do you need then? Your work in my class has been acceptable, so I don’t think we have any homework you’d need help with.”

  It was clear that she was suspicious, and that was fair. Each of us had caused this particular professor no small amount of trouble, and while I hadn’t heard anything, I was sure that someone had given her a talking to about letting students do things like this. She’d caught Simon though, so there was that.

  “Just looking at making a few small items, Professor,” Simon said. “Would you be willing to look over things to make sure we didn’t do anything wrong?” Simon passed her the runic sequences we’d written down, the codes for the items we were planning to make.

  The professor took them without losing her scowl, and I worried. She’d been so friendly before, so full of joy. Had we taken that from her with our hijinks? I certainly hoped not. She was good at what she did, and making her lose her love of it certainly wasn’t what I’d intended.

  “These are … not bad. There’s some room for improvement in the efficiency, and you need to add some limiters in a few places, but otherwise, not bad at all.” She even made notes on the pages where we needed to improve them.

  Looking over what she’d written, the reasoning was obvious. Simon hadn’t added in upper limits to how much heat or light the items he was making could produce, and that was mildly dangerous. They couldn’t really explode or anything, since they simply wouldn’t be putting out that sort of energy, but they could burn things, or potentially hurt someone’s eyes. It was something I should have thought of.

  “Um … we were hoping to make these tomorrow, if you don’t mind us using some of the equipment,” Simon added as he, too, looked over the notes.

  “We have a new policy that students are only allowed access to certain pieces of equipment under direct supervision of a member of staff, and you are fortunate that I will be here tomorrow afternoon. She wrote the hours she’d be in on a slip of paper and handed it to us. I’m sure you two understand why such a policy is necessary?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we chorused.

  A quick check on my part confirmed that the machine shop now had similar restrictions as well. I was surprised, but also relieved. I might be fairly safe to use those tools alone, but others certainly weren’t as trained, and it would be a real shame if some kid got hurt. We also got lucky in that it would be open in the morning.

  We met once more as the sun crested the horizon, spilling pale light over the countryside. It was beautiful, really, the pink stretching across the sky before fading into a pristine blue. There was not a cloud in sight, a perfect day. It was really a shame we’d be inside for most of it.

  “You know, you never told me about this girl you were making the golem for,” I said as we left the dorms. “Magical items are nice, but does she even have a way to power one?”

  “She’s a priestess,” Simon said with a blush. “So that wouldn’t be a problem. We met when I had to go for some healing—broken leg over the winter break.”

  I looked at him with raised eyebrows. All the boys at this school were physical magic users, and it took a significant amount of force to break one of our bones. Some of us could lift small cars if we were in the mood to, or move at superhuman speeds, so even the least durable of us was still quite difficult to injure.

  “I’d rather not go into how,” he demurred when he saw my look. “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “All right, so you met her when you went to get healed and ended up courting?”

  “Indeed,” he replied. “She’s so kind, and her face is like porcelain, surrounded by golden locks …” He looked off into the distance. “Add to that, she doesn’t really have anything nice, other than a few formal outfits, so I wanted to make something special for her.”

  “Doesn’t have anything nice? Goodness, a caster of any kind should be able to afford at least a few things.”

  “She lives at the temple for training, and they encourage a very … ascetic lifestyle. Not allowed to sell mana to anyone for things beyond needs and discouraged from buying fancy things. A gift would be fine, so I thought the little golem would be perfect.” It was clear that he was trying to give her something to impress her.

  “What magical items does she have? Maybe we can think of something.”

  “Oh, so far as I know, nothing. She said they issue small allowances for things like oil lamps and wood for heating …” he said, nearly stopping where he stood. “Oh, I’m a fool, aren’t I?”

  “At least you realize it,” I teased, seeing that he now understood what he should have been doing.

  “We’ll need something pretty though. I’d hate to give her some ugly thing. Hope you don’t mind me saying, but I’d like something different for her—something, oh I don’t know, feminine.”

  “How about flowers?” I offered. I’d turned a few for decorations back on Earth. Tulips were easy, and with a bit of imagination, you could even make others. “I could make several of different metals, and we could make each like the items you’re making for yourself.”