Muttonhawk — Roleplayer Guild

The Great Artisan, Divine Mason, Builder of Civilisations
Level 5 God of Crafting (Masonry, Carpentry, Smithing, Alchemy, Armaments)
40.5 Might & 2 Free Points

Lifprasil's palace gates eased open. From between them, the flickering yellow light of torches cut lines in the nighttime road, silhouetted by the comparatively small figure of Conata spreading the gates open. Looking on behind her were a handful of tall, horned, high lifprasilian palace guards with glaives and lights. When she made enough distance, the guards shut the gate behind her and let her disappear into the city.

The dark of the early morning hours did little to cool the humid tropical air. She paid it no mind. She walked, brisk but unrushed and neutral.

The market district was not difficult to find. Most roads seemed to funnel to its main square. Finding the chipper workshop would have been harder, had Conata not lived in the city for the past few years. No established craftsman or woman was ignorant of them. Still, she never before approached their shrine.

The workshop was barred shut at this time of night, naturally. Conata did not so much as blink before drawing one of the bronze pitons on her belt and pressing it to a thin wafer. The wafer slotted between the double doors easily enough for her to lift the wooden bar off its seat from the outside.

She pushed open the doors. Moonlight cast into the dark space beyond. She closed her eyes, stepped in, and shut the doors behind her. The workshop was left pitch black, though Conata did not need to see. She could feel the shapes of the various fixed metal tools; anvils, vices, nails, and so on, all around her. They were all points of reference to the centre; the local chippers held the tradition of hanging up their hand tools near the shrine to Stone Chipper himself, in the centre of it all.

Once near, Conata heated her bronze wafer until it shed hot orange light. Mercifully, there was an unlit candle. Conata set the metal to. It illuminated the lonely scene in yellow.

The altar itself was a practical, stone thing with a single, dust-covered, untouched hammer in its centre...Reserved for Stone Chipper, should he need it. It was the only real thing that formalised it being an altar.

Conata reached under her black feathered cloak. Her hand reemerged holding a newer hammer, with a fresh handle and a head of gleaming adamantine. She looked at it. Her copper-faced reflection looked back on one of its facets. With a sigh, she placed her hammer gently on the altar, next to Stone Chipper's.

And then she stood for a while.

She had come this far -- she thought she would have more to say.

Standing still was not helping any matters.

Her lips curled in, sick of the stillness. "You know..." she began. "Emperor Lifprasil told me to ask you something. He said you would answer, because you liked questions like that. He told me to ask you how I was made."

Conata let out a single laugh. "I know all the other chippers would talk for ages if you asked them how they made their latest projects. I kinda get it. I get proud of what I make, when I do it right. When the effort pays off. Call it showing off, I guess."

Her smile faded. She looked down and wrung her little finger nervously. "I thought the question would make you answer, no matter whether you're my dad or not, but that's just a guess. Either way, it got me thinking." She paused. Her neck broke out with rust and the pauses between her sentences broadened. "I would have been made by someone. Metal things are. Didn't...I didn't hatch out of an egg or get born. I was made. I don't know why I was made, exactly. Never really known. Not sure I need to know. I just...If I was made, I just hope I've done things right. I hope I made my maker proud. Someone they would talk about like a project that paid off."

The darkness around the chipper's altar held its breath.

Conata bit her lower lip. Her voice tightened up all the same. "I don't know if you can hear me. But...if you could tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate it...Teknall."

She swallowed, looking at the hammer as if it would answer.

"You were carefully designed, then cast in a mold."

Conata spun around, startled. There stood an aproned goblin in a corner behind her. He walked forwards.

"Every different metal in existence was mixed together to form the alloy from which you were made. This was poured into a graphite mold, which had been carved into the likeness of a young girl." The goblin drew near to Conata's side. "To provide the divine impetus which animated you and granted you the status of demigoddess, one last ingredient was added." He opened his left hand to bare his palm, across which a scar was still faintly visible. "My own blood."

Teknall looked up into Conata's face with tender warmth. "I am sorry for making you wait so long, my daughter."

Conata's mouth hung open. Without breathing, she brought her half-closed hands up to look at them. They were magnesium. She was magnesium all over. Her hands felt different.

"You're..."

A rush of disorganised images flew past her mind's eye. She blinked hard. The pearlescent whites of her eyes glazed.

"It's a lot to take in," Teknall said. He laid a reassuring hand on Conata's arm. "Take a deep breath, gather your thoughts. We're in no rush."

Conata did as the goblin said, inhaling slowly until her lungs were filled. She only managed to breathe out halfway before the rest came out in a loud laugh, which she quickly breathed in again. "I thought you'd be taller!" She said the first thing that came to her head. She sniffed and found her nose blocked. "You're Teknall, right? Not Vestec dressed up to trick me or anything?"

"I am indeed Teknall. Teknall would take strong objection to Vestec interfering in this moment, were Vestec to try such a trick."

"I suppose he would." Conata giggled again. The iridescent bismuth on her skin swam over rough orange rust. She tried taking a deep breath again.

She found herself pausing as her mouth curled down. She asked faintly, "Father...Where were you?"

Teknall let out a soft sigh. "Of the many things Choukkud and Wutni taught you, there was one thing which they emphasised above all else: the heart of a tedar. Growing up in Rulanah, living with the Rovaick, you gained empathy for your fellow mortals. You came to identify with them, to understand them, not as pawns to be manipulated or lesser beings to be aided, but as friends. I left you with Choukkud and Wutni so that you may learn these things. I have been following your growth closely, and you have indeed made me proud. In my absence, I gave you a precious thing which no god could give yet is so valuable for development: a childhood."

Conata brought a closed hand up to her collarbone and looked away to the ground. Clearer memories came to mind. Memories of chasing goats over the mountain grasses. She remembered Wutni and Choukkud's warm hugs when she was sad.

"Choukkud said that," Conata said. "I remember he said I had the heart of a tedar. I remember he was upset about it. I didn't know why at the time. I guess that explains it, if..." Conata swallowed. "He was going to tell me all of this when I turned seventeen." She looked to Teknall again. "Did you really have to keep it all a secret from me? I didn't even know what I was until the realta attacked."

"Divinity brings power, authority, and superiority. If you had known of your divinity, would you have honestly considered the mortals your peers and equals? Would you have let yourself be raised by mortal parents, when you had access to a godly father? It was not a decision I made lightly, but without the secrecy the plan would not work."

Conata's face stilled. Her eyes searched Teknall's. He said all he needed to.

She let her arm drift back to her side after a long moment mulling.

"I don't know how to answer that," Conata said blankly. "I don't know gods. It hurt to not know about you. It...really hurt. But, it's not like it matters now."

Conata blinked and her eyes flooded. An attempt to breathe it back only made matters worse. She scrunched her eyes shut and felt rust creep out from their corners until it spread over her face like an eye mask. A breath in, properly this time, let her partly open her eyes and speak again.

Her voice broke. "I didn't really think this far ahead, Teknall," she admitted.

Teknall stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around Conata in a comforting embrace. "You've made it to here, though, my daughter. That itself should be cause for joy."

Conata knelt down and put her arms around Teknall. Short though his form was, his words made the tears finally escape Conata's eyes. She sobbed heavily into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and squeezed her father hard enough to injure any usual goblin. The release sent a wave of relief over Conata, turning her bright silver, even as little veins of rust kept their place. They held one another for some time. The culmination of years went into their embrace.

Only after a minute or two did Conata start to calm. Teknall gave her the time she needed but kept her previous statement in mind, which he answered.

"You were hoping to receive direction from this event. Perhaps it would help you if I told you why I first made you."

Teknall took a step back, leaving Conata on her knee, sniffling and looking on. He picked up the hammer to Stone Chipper from the altar and dusted it off. "Before you were born, the Rovaick were in a poor position. They were trapped in the caves of the Ironhearts by Toun's White Giants, and their access to resources was sorely limited. I had blessed the Ironhearts with great mineral wealth, but the Rovaick knew nothing about metal, a situation shared by many mortal races at the time.

"So they prayed for aid; or, specifically, Sularn prayed on their behalf. Toun and I answered the prayer. Toun gave them what you know as Sularn's Oath, which marks the bearers as Toun's so that the White Giants do not attack them. Toun also taught them agriculture, so that they may have food and grow. I pledged to teach them the ways of metalworking. That is where you come in."

Conata found her eyes wandering to the red marks on the back of her wrist. She snapped back to attention.

"Previously, I had walked amongst the hain as Stone Chipper, spending several generations bringing knowledge and skills to the primitive tribes. However, Galbar had grown fuller and busier since then. I could not afford to dedicate my full attention to such a small area. So I made a helper to perform the task of teaching metalworking to the Rovaick on my behalf: you. And you have performed that task admirably."

Teknall ran a finger along the head of the hammer, which was made of high quality Alefprian steel. With a small nod of approval he set the hammer back in its place. "But you are more than a tool built for a single purpose. You are a person, with autonomy and free will. I've told you where you started, but it's up to you to decide where you want to go next, and what mark you want to leave on the world."

Conata was at first silent. She stared at the hammers on the altar, hers and Teknall's, until enough copper overtook her complexion under her tears to think.

"Well..." She thought out loud. "I guess it's good I was made for working metal. I've always loved doing that. But, I've never really thought too deeply about 'making a mark' or something. I've never wanted to conquer the world or marry a prince or anything like that. I hope you don't mind, I think I need time to decide."

"Take your time," Teknall replied.

"Mm. I'll think about it." Conata wiped her eyes with the hem of her feathered cloak. She paused and opened her mouth reluctantly. "So...is it just...you?" She struggled with the question. "Rather, I know you told me how I was made. I just had this idea in my head that there was a family or something. A mother, maybe some siblings...Do you have a wife? Did you...make any other children?"

The corners of Teknall's mouth curled up into a smile. "You do indeed have a sister and a mother."

Conata's eyes lit up.

"Ilunabar aided me in your design. Your sister was created around the same time you were, with similar plans in mind."

Bronze spread up Conata's cheeks like veins. "Ilunabar?" Her mouth spread into an open smile. "The goddess who built this city!? You're joking! She's my mother!?" She covered her hands over her mouth. "And a sister, too? Gods, I..."

Conata lurched up from her kneel to crouch closer to Teknall. "Where are they? Can I meet them, too?"

"Soon. I can take you to meet them soon," Teknall said, "But not tonight. Tonight is just for us. I'm sure you have plenty more questions, and some tales to tell."

The bronze on Conata's skin lost some of its polish. She sat back kneeling, her hands on her upper legs. "Right, sorry. I'm just excited."

Teknall reached his hand towards the altar and picked up Conata's hammer. He inspected the adamantine head. "It was a pretty impressive feat of smithing you did to forge this hammer. Want to tell me a bit about it?"

"Oh, that?" Conata bowed her head forward and rubbed the back of her neck, thinking. "I made that with Helvana's help." She peered back up at Teknall. "You know her, right? She's a demigoddess, too."

"I'm aware of her," Teknall replied.

"The thing about adamantine...It's..." Conata let out her breath. "It's a long story, it took a lot of effort. Is there any particular part you want to know?"

"Tell me what it was like trying to manipulate the adamantine."

Conata glanced at her hammer, unsure. "Most of the time, it was like trying to manipulate a cured brick after shaping clay with your hands for so long. It's metal, to every sense I have, but feels immune whenever I try to move it -- or use any of my powers on it. It wasn't until Helvana and I inspected it together that I could even tell what was going on." She nodded to the hammer. "With a weakening curse upon it, I could feel some of my power affect it. It was resisting, like some metal when you try to bend it but it wants to go back to its original shape. Trying to shape it with the curse on it felt like pushing a huge boulder up a hill that got steeper as you went. A boulder big enough to roll back over you if your strength failed. I was rolled over a few times when it threw my powers back against me."

She stopped for a moment. Her face blanked as she stared at the hammer. Her memory tried to piece together what happened next. "Helvana tried another curse to hold in the backlash. That worked really well, and...Maybe I could do it then because I wasn't afraid of the backlash? I don't know. I trusted Helvana, so I pushed myself. I concentrated on my feel for the metal. I focussed so I could understand it. Then I had to line up my power and push it in as efficiently as I could. It took all I had to wake the metal up so it would move." She furrowed her brow. "It's strange, because I felt like it should have been harder. It was hard, for sure, but I got this weird burst of energy at some point. The kind you get when you're really focussed and don't feel yourself hurting or getting scared. I was floating. The only thing in front of me was the metal, nothing else. So, once it woke up, I shaped it how I wanted. I even got to put pretty details on the knife I gave Helvana, Lloyd, and Gwyn. Then I woke up in a pile of smoldering wood as if it was a dream, ran over to the adamantine, and there it was. Shaped just so."

Conata's lips thinned apologetically. "That's probably the best way I can explain it."

Teknall placed the hammer back down onto the altar. "Adamantine is a resilient metal. That is its nature. I would know; I designed it to be the strongest and toughest elemental metal in the universe. Adamantine typically takes some nuance and advanced equipment to work properly, so your persistence in getting it to work is admirable. Although, that's not so surprising; a good portion of your own resilience would come from the adamantine in you." Teknall smiled at Conata. "There are probably a couple of tricks I could still teach you, though."

Teknall stretched out his arm beside himself. Motes of golden light flickered into existence for the briefest moment as Teknall conjured his great adamantine maul into his hand. He spun the maul half way around and placed it head first onto the floor.

Conata raised her brow. "Woah."

The hammer's haft was as long as Teknall was tall, and the mass of the metal hammer head easily exceeded that of a goblin. Conata almost destroyed a city by shaping her little tool-sized hammer. Guessing the power required to shape Teknall's maul made her head spin.

"What kind of stuff do you make with that?" She asked. "Mountains?"

"Yes."

Conata's copper skin dulled. "...Pardon?"

"This is primarily intended as a weapon rather than a tool, but I did use this hammer to create the Ironheart Ranges," Teknall clarified.

"Oh." She nodded, and then realised in a bloom of bronze. "Oh! I didn't know that was true, I just thought it was a metaphor for something..." She cautiously reached out and peered up at Teknall. "Can I take a closer look?" She asked quietly.

Teknall let go of the haft of the maul. "Go for it."

Conata grasped the maul and stood up. Even levering the handle towards herself was a struggle. Only adamantine in this quantity could make her appreciate just how heavy metal really was -- she could not just will it around. She bent her knees to wrap her other hand down closer to the weight and heaved. Her teeth pressed together. Streaks of iron broke out on her arms and legs. With a low ring, the edge of the maul scraped away from the floor.

Up the absurd hammer ascended. Conata did not breathe except in little sounds of struggle. She finally lifted the maul up over her head. Her iron-and-bronze arms looked as though they were about to burst.

Her eyes went to an anvil hidden in the darkness of the workshop. With a flick of her toe, it slid across the floor until it stopped suddenly in front of her. Again, with just the smallest movements of her left foot she could afford, a scrappy bronze chisel unhooked from the stand around the altar and flew across to them. It laid itself gently across on the anvil.

Conata slid her foot back and let gravity reclaim the maul. Her arms provided no force but to direct the hammer head to the chisel.

The ring of adamantine was the only sound that lasted more than the moment it took for the maul to shatter every object between it and the ground. Conata fell forward with it. Her red eyes stood out against the swirls of reflective tin and selenium that framed her shocked face.

"...Wow."

Teknall stepped forwards, gripped the handle of the maul and lifted it off the ground with Conata still hanging on. Conata let go so he could hold the hammer by his side. "You have just used a divine weapon. Few demigods have the privilege of having done so. Although, you possess the skills to create similar objects if you desire."

Conata stood up, brushing back some of her wiry hair. "Ahem, I think I'll stick with my own hammer for now." The corner of her mouth grinned, tense and bronze.

Teknall's grip loosened and his maul faded away into motes of golden light. His head then turned to the disaster site. "Although, I can't imagine the Chippers will be happy about the damage you've done next morning."

The iron anvil was unrecognisable, its form sheared and flattened into rubble. The stone floor was shattered where the anvil had been driven into it. All that remained of the chisel was a bronze smear. "Let us tidy up this mess."

Teknall knelt down by the crushed objects. He lifted the hunk of iron out of the ground and deposited it beside Conata.

"Er, right..." Conata was quick to gesture up with her hands and will all the metal into the air. Remaking the chisel was as easy as bringing all the bronze between her hands and pinching out its shape, short of its now pulverised wooden handle. The anvil was hastily clapped back together, though she took a moment of care in fusing its glowing form. It would need to be just as hard as before.

She was so distracted that the previously broken floor beside her -- now perfectly repaired as if nothing had hit it -- caused her to double-take and break out in a green patina. Teknall's hand lifted from the floor.

"W-. Did you-?" Conata's surprise gave way to a dull tin. She sighed and worried her brow. "I could've fixed that, too," she said indignantly.

"Stone is one of my talents." Teknall reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a segment of a tree branch. He offered it towards Conata. "Did you want to make a new chisel handle or shall I?"

Conata pouted. She snatched the branch out of Teknall's hand. She looked at it, then back up to Teknall, frowning, and then back to the branch. Scars of iron wreathed her neck and face. "I can do it," she said. "Just so you know."

She turned and strode to a hefty wood-and-bronze vice fixed to a nearby work table. The vice and the remade chisel itself would do most of the work. Rather, the metal of the chisel -- she first shaped its bronze into a disc with a rim of tiny serrations. She used her power to spin the disc like an endless saw, cutting the branch to length on either side. The disc then took the form of a broad rectangular blade, which Conata used to shave the wood's breadth in sweeping movements.

Conata unfastened the vice and held the result up, blowing off some of the sawdust. She had a rough cylinder of wood. She could have drilled a hole through its length and been done with it.

She glanced at Teknall. Then at the cylinder. She hummed.

She turned and walked towards her father, and then walked past him. In a pigeon hole below the tools stand were sheets of rough brown parchment. She pulled one out with a scrape and returned to the vice.

Over the next few minutes she worked with her back to Teknall, gesturing to reshape the metal of the chisel to suit her needs with not even a pause. Little drifts of smoke, shavings of wood, and the occasional lengthy spray of sawdust flew from her fabrication. It ended with a minute of near-stillness as she held something in front of her. Delicate hisses were the only sound in that small stage.

Wood slid and clacked on metal. Another hiss. Conata turned around with her apron covered in sawdust and a little smile on her face. She held, by the blade, the completed chisel.

The bronze metal itself shone like a mirror, but the handle was a work of art. It was lathed and smoothed into a uniform shape to fit perfectly in the palm. Around the wood itself was a repeating pattern of waves scorched onto its surface as if by a tiny branding iron.

She held the handle out to her father, her other hand behind her back.

Teknall took the chisel from Conata and inspected it. He gave a nod of approval. "Craftsmanship befitting of a daughter of the crafting god."

Conata's skin faded into a more reflective bronze than the chisel. She smiled.

Teknall placed the repaired tool in the stand around the altar where it originated. He then looked back to Conata. "I think we might be done here for tonight."

She dulled, but kept levity. "You don't want to come and drink wine with my friends?" She asked.

"Tempting, but I have preparations to make, and it might be a bit overwhelming for them to meet a god face-to-face. Besides, it's getting late." Teknall stretched up and kissed Conata on the forehead. She bowed to receive it without thinking. A very faint golden glow suffused her metallic forehead before fading away. "A lot has happened today. Sleep on it. I'll see you again in the morning."

"Okay..." Her smile faded again.

Teknall padded over to the door of the workshop and pulled it open. He turned back to Conata, framed by dim moonlight. "Goodnight, my daughter."

"Thanks for answering!" Conata said in a rush. Her hands were clasped tightly together. One of them still held that sandpaper. "I got too used to the idea that you wouldn't."

Teknall paused for a moment. "Thank you for calling. We've been waiting to be reunited with you for many years. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. I have some things to show you then."

She nodded. "Goodnight."

Teknall nodded, and then turned and walked out of sight.

The doors shut in Conata's view. The flickering yellow light of the candle dominated the room again. She picked up her hammer from the altar and realised just how bright of a silver her skin had turned. She let her eyes drift closed and her smile gently show.

For the first time in years, things were starting to make sense.

After getting advice from Lifprasil, Conata exits Alefpria palace and heads on down to the chipper workshop in the night.

She enters to find it dark and empty. Go figure, chippers generally aren't nocturnal. But she can feel her way around because of all the metal tools.

Conata lights a candle near the altar to Teknall (which is just a glorified lectern with a hammer if Teknall comes along and needs to make something). She brings out her own adamantine tool hammer because symbolism is a thing that Mutton likes to giggle with himself about sometimes.

She doesn't know what to say, but manages to pull a heartfelt monologue out to serve as a prayer. She mentions what Lifprasil told her to say; to ask Teknall how she was made.

Teknall appears in goblin form behind her and answers the question right away, ending the explanation by showing the scar on his palm from when he dropped some gold blood into Conata's mold.

Conata is dumbstruck. She tries to talk over the happy-crying welling up inside her. She eventually asks why Teknall wasn't around.

Teknall explains his reasoning for adopting child-Conata out to Choukkud and Wutni. Conata doesn't really have an argument against it, but it still hurts. She says as much.

They have a hug and Conata cries. She doesn't know what do do.

Teknall continues by explaining why Conata was created in the first place; to help the rovaick get into metalworking, which she accomplished handily. The next step was up to her, he explains.

Again, Conata doesn't know what to do. She takes a raincheck on her answer to what her next purpose is going to be. In the meantime, she asks after any other direct family she might have. She's excited to hear from Teknall that she has a sister and Ilunabar is her mother. But they can be met another time.

Teknall moves on to Conata's hammer and asks what it was like to create it. He commends her persistence and notes that she could learn a trick or two more. He then slams his compensatory
daddy-kit own adamantine maul beside him. Conata gets woah'd, especially when she hears it was the hammer that raised the Ironhearts. She gets wow'd even more when she's allowed to lift it and use it to demolish a chisel, an anvil, and the floor below, in one stroke.

Conata starts cleaning the subsequent rubble up, repairing things, but she gets a little ticked off when Teknall repairs the floor in less than a few moments with his godly masonry magic. Teknall lets her fix the chisel, though, even providing raw wood to make a new handle. Conata proceeds to go the extra mile and make the best and prettiest chisel ever to make up for her lost responsibility with the floor. Teknall says she did a good jorb.

Finally, Teknall wraps their meeting up, mentioning he'll be back tomorrow to show her more cool stuff. He kisses her on the forehead in a similar way to when he said goodbye to her as a child. Conata doesn't get her memory back immediately, but things are definitely describable as good.

Also, there's a bonus section where Toun and Teknall gab on for a bit. The topic turns to Xos, which sets off a few coming events.

Might Summary
Teknall
Start: 40.5 MP (20.25 reserved by Workshop), 2 FP, L5, D7, C8
Spent: 1 MP to increase Concealment, because got to be sneaky with Xos on the prowl.
End: 39.5 MP (20.25 reserved by Workshop), 2 FP, L5, D7, C9

Teknall took a deep breath of the thick Aleprian air. A moment of reflection gave him peace between this and his next task.

However, his attention drew up to a sign on the building adjacent. Perched atop its jutting wooden beam was a tiny white bird, gleaming with spots on its head reflecting the moons above. Its eyes shone bright blue.

"Count yourself fortunate, brother," a familiar yet calm voice said. "She worked hard not to resent you."

Teknall leaned against a wall and sighed. "I know. That was an outcome I feared, but I'm glad it did not come to pass."

"Do not think yourself immune yet. She has never had to depend on you since you left her in that mountain home."

"Raising her to be independent was an intentional choice. She's resilient, and the worst has passed." Teknall raised an eyebrow at the droningbird. "Are you implying that I'm going to stuff it up?"

The bird's head turned, showing its other eye. "No. That probability has not changed. Though, I shall infer directly how your optimism foils you once more; you know not when the worst shall come." The voice lightened. "Still, how your luck fares with your descendents bears little on me except that they remain alive. I know you are at least that competent, brother."

Teknall harrumphed. "You don't often engage in small talk, Toun. Especially not at this very busy time."

"Little is lost in, every so often, sharing little observations. Especially when the remaining leads to the shade have reduced to the coldest of his possible tracks." The bird bounced in contrast to the voice. "He is planning something. I can detect his malice like a spill of black ink in the night sky. He will appear soon."

"Well, I have made some headway in that regard," Teknall said. He reached into his apron pocket. "Before Xos' return, Ilunabar made a magical mirror for Ventus and placed it in the Celestial Citadel. This mirror had the ability to spy upon almost any location on Galbar. It is now, of course, in the hands of Xos' servants. But, with Ilunabar's help, we can use this to our advantage."

The bird went completely still.

Teknall retrieved the arcane device with its gemstone from his pocket and held it up. "This device allows me to track the mirror's activities, which thus informs us of where the shade or its servants may strike next."

Teknall's face froze in terror as he looked at the device. "No, no, not now."

"Teknall?" The voice said, slow and grave.

"The mirror is focussing on Kinesis and her location, Pictaraika. I must warn her and Ilunabar," Teknall said, hastily stuffing the device back into his pocket.

"Take the droningbird." The bird buzzed into Teknall's hand and folded its wings.

"Right," Teknall said to the bird cradled in his palm. "I'll lay low if I can, in case it is a trap. Be ready to come if Xos shows himself." And with a faint rush of air, Teknall disappeared from the street.
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