Clockwork Magician by W.R. Gingell

Author:W.R. Gingell [Gingell, W.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W.R. Gingell

8

The smallest sun had already sunk when Peter and Glenna woke from sleep in the hayloft. There was little enough left of the food they had purchased from the inn out the front, and it vanished quickly. They hadn’t dared buy too much with how little coin they had, nor had they used any of that coin for board when there was a perfectly good supply of straw nearby.

Left to himself, Peter would probably even have tried to scrounge supplies from the stableyard and cobbled together a solution to fix the tickerbox for good, but Glenna had other ideas.

In pursuance of those ideas, she marched him across the city after dark until they found the largest University of Magic that the city had to offer, then just as coolly marched them both into the place. She also managed, with the barest minimum of conversation, to dispossess two stammering, blushing young men of their table and ensconce herself and Peter in it.

Peter found himself very nearly as speechless as the two young men, and much less pleased about it, but he couldn’t deny that Glenna had brought them both into the perfect position. Not only did this particular university have what amounted to a buffet in the study hall, it apparently had no problems with the students availing themselves of that food at the same time as they were about their studies. Students all around the hall were engaged in study of the practical as well as theoretical sort, and crumbs of food were as plenteous as the crumbs of magic.

Glenna as high-handedly provided herself with food as she had with a place to sit down, leaving Peter as speechless as before, and explained kindly, “They’ll only throw us out if they think we don’t belong. If we act like we belong, they’ll think we belong.”

“All right,” said Peter, “but if we get thrown out, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”

“Certainly,” Glenna said, with the same inflexion that she might have said there, there. “Do you think you could have a look on the odds-and-ends table over there? I rather fancy they have a bit of treated silver over there, and even if it’s not the same as treated iron, it’s—”

“Yes, I know,” said Peter testily. “It’s a precursor to the stuff I use in our own time. It won’t hold up as well as the treated iron, though.”

“I know,” Glenna said. There was a faint line between her brows. “It’s such a shame that we can’t take anything extra with us! It will last us a trip or two before it burns out, I think. But after that—”

“There shouldn’t be more than a trip or two needed,” Peter said. He felt vaguely affronted. “I’m not going to make mistakes this time when I move us! We should only need to make a move once or twice, unless the stitch we need to catch with Mordion is in another time. After that, it’s just a matter of getting home.”

“Yes,” said Glenna slowly.

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