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<I hadn’t realized, you see…The lexicon is a mind, a clever one, one whose arguments are so convincing that all of reality has to listen. Do you know what that feels li—>

Then her head lit up with agony.

It was like the world was dissolving, like a meteor had struck the earth, like the walls had been turned to ash and cinder…She was still in the office, still standing next to that sleeping girl, but there was a hot coal in her brain, burning it away, scorching the walls of her skull. She opened her mouth in silent pain and was surprised when smoke didn’t come pouring out.

Sancia fell to her knees and vomited. It’s the lexicon spiking, she tried to tell herself. That’s all it is…You’re just…sensitive to it…

Clef cried out joyously: <Do you feel it waking up? I hadn’t realized how beautiful they were!>

She felt warmth running down her face, and saw drops of blood on the floor below her.

<I…I remember someone like that!> said Clef. <I remember…I remember him, Sancia…>

Images leaked into her mind. The dusty smell of the office faded, and she smelled…

Desert hills. Cool night breezes.

Then she heard the hiss of sand, and the sound of millions of wings, and she was gone.

Berenice peered through the spyglass, watching for Sancia. The girl had abruptly sunk to the ground and fallen out of view — which seemed odd.

What is she doing? Why isn’t she getting out of there?

Then nausea hit her — a familiar sensation for her.

They’re spinning up the lexicon, she thought. Activating more scrivings. And maybe it’s done something to Sancia.

She watched for a moment, then glassed the big, open area beyond the office. She saw glints of metal, and realized guards in scrived armor were walking at a quick pace — not on patrol, then. They were looking for something. And they seemed to be heading straight for Sancia.

“Shit,” she whispered. She looked back at the office. She still couldn’t see Sancia. “Oh, shit.”

Sancia was no longer in the office, no longer in the foundry or the campo or even in Tevanne. She was gone from that place.

Now she stood atop creamy yellow sand dunes, the pale pink moon hanging fat and heavy in the sky. And standing on the dune across from her was…

A man. Or something man-shaped, facing away from her.

He was wrapped in black cloth, every inch of his body, his neck and face and feet. He wore a short black cloak that went down to about mid-thigh, and his arms and hands were lost in its folds. Next to the man-thing was a curious, ornate golden box, about three feet high and four feet long.

She knew this thing, she knew the box. She recognized them.

I can’t let him see me, she thought.

She heard a sound coming from somewhere in the sky…the sound of so many wings, tiny and delicate, like a giant flock of butterflies.

The man-thing’s head twitched ever so slightly, like he’d heard something. The sound of flapping wings grew louder.

No, she thought. No, no…

Then the man-thing rose up, just a touch, floating a foot above the dunes, and hung there, suspended in the night air.

Berenice stared through the spyglass as the guards got closer and closer. She had to do something, to warn Sancia or wake her somehow, or at least distract the guards.

She looked around. She had quite a few more rigs on her person, of course — when Berenice Grimaldi prepared, she did so with enthusiasm — but she’d never have imagined preparing for this.

Then she spied a possibility: there was a massive globe light just outside the southwest corner of the foundry, standing on a tall, iron pole, about forty feet high. It probably lit up the main entrance when the foundry was running.

She did some calculations. Then she pulled out her fusing wand and ran over to it.

I scrumming hope this works.

The man-thing hung in the air above the dunes across from Sancia, silent and still. Then the sands started to swirl around him, undulating in smooth rings as if being whipped about by a storm — but there was no wind, at least not that strong.

Please, no, thought Sancia. Not him. Anyone but him.

The man-thing slowly started to rotate to face her. The sound of flapping wings was deafening now, as if the night sky were thick with invisible butterflies.

Terror filled her, wordless and shrieking and mad. No! No, I can’t! I can’t let him see me, I can’t LET HIM SEE ME!

The thing raised a black hand, fingers extended to the sky. The air quaked, and the sky shuddered.

Then there was a tremendous crack sound, and the vision faded.

She was back in the office, on her knees. Her stomach was boiling with nausea, and there was vomit on the floor — but she was back in her own body.

<What was that?> she thought — though she already suspected. <Clef…was that a memory? A memory of yours?>

He didn’t answer.

“What the hell was that sound?” said a voice beyond the office door.

She froze, listening.

“The damn lamp column fell over outside! It fell over the walls and into the yard!”

<Clef?> she asked. <Clef. Are you there?>

<Yes,> he said, though his voice was very small.

<What’s going on? Are there guards out there?>

<Yes. And they’re coming straight for you.>

Sancia stumbled forward and slipped through the door to the empty adjoining office. She climbed up onto the desk just as she heard a knock. “Miss?” called a voice. “Miss? We need to come in and get something off the desk. Don’t be alarmed, please.”

“Shit,” muttered Sancia. She leapt up, grabbed the window, and hauled herself through the top. Then she slipped out, gripped the edge of the building, and started to climb up to the fourth floor.

She heard a voice cry, “What in hell? What happened here! Wake the girl up, now, now!”

She crawled through the fourth-floor window and started sprinting back toward the maintenance shaft. About halfway there she heard the floor below erupt in shouting.

<They’ve sent the alarm out,> said Clef quietly. <They’re looking for you now.>

<Yeah,> she said, leaping into the shaft. <I gathered.>

Berenice exhaled with relief as she watched Sancia clamber back through the fourth-floor window. The half-melted base of the lamp tower was still glowing a cheerful red before her. She’d never intended to use the wand for this, and scrupulously made a note of this new application.

Then she heard the shouts from over the walls — guards, probably. And soon they’d be coming out to see what had happened.

“Shit,” said Berenice. She ran for the canal.