Chapter 23 – Trap

The easy part of the plan was to skip class. The hard part was figuring out what to do with the short amount of time she had to prepare. Her spellbook was full of minor spells, basic spells, simple spells, and nearly useless spells. It was all novice stuff because, well, that was what she was, a novice. Until she graduated, there were certain spells she wasn’t even allowed to scribe.

She considered a few options. She wanted people to know about the spies, right? But going to the guards was worse than useless. What she needed was a bunch of eye-witnesses. Given that no alarms went off, these spies seemed to have keys to most of the doors.

Mirian went to the hall where the spy would later walk down. There was a notice posted: No admittance without a glyphpass, no trespassers. Dangerous animals beyond this door. It then showed a little stick figure getting eaten by a simply drawn bog lion. Pretty clear stuff. The door was solid wood, reinforced with steel rivets, each with a minor toughness enchantment. The most elaborate thing was the handle and lock. The door required a glyphkey, and only a key with both the matching glyphs and ridges would work. Otherwise, Mirian was pretty sure it would trigger an alarm. The nice thing about the stone corridor was that it was long, and there were no side doors.

She studied the lock. She needed a way to jam it without triggering the alarm. That last part was tricky; she wasn’t quite sure what caused that. Fortunately, she was an artificer. She’d looked at hundreds of designs, and Torres had had them figure out what glyphs were missing in various devices using just math and spell theory. She sketched out the glyphs she could see, then hurried over to the Artificer’s Tower.

There, she found one of the labs that wasn’t in use. All the supplies were locked away in cabinets, but what she was after were the books. There were design books that just were full of blueprints. She found one and flipped through it. Engine, basic. Flame cloak. Gauntlet, protective. Illuminations. Ah, here it is: Lock, magical. She carefully analyzed the mana channels, then flipped to the front of the book for ‘alarm.’ After careful analysis, she figured there were only a few cheap ways to fit the alarm to the lock. A lot of the glyphs in the device were flux glyphs, so they would change functions if paired together. That left a few options. The alarm was probably triggered magnetically, she decided. Most lock-picking tools were steel, and a fake key would be steel, so—hey, it made sense. The glyphs on the proper key would create a circuit that bypassed the thin flow of mana in the ward, while the other glyphs would match up with the proper symbols and create another mana circuit that magnetically unlocked the door.

Well, that was easy, then. She just needed a nonmagnetic metal. Brass would do the trick.

She went over to the Academy metal shop that she would be visiting in a few days to start on her spellrod and scooped up a pile of brass shavings from the shop floor. The steward there looked at her funny, but whatever. She pulled out her spellbook and cast phantom magnet to check the filings. It turned out to be a good idea, too. Small bits of steel had gotten mixed in. She discarded them, and hurried off with her prize.

By that time, class was close to getting out. She hoped no one else was trying to use the door, and that maintenance would forgive her for making yet another mess. She stuffed the filings into the lock with her hands, giving herself a nasty metal splinter in the process. It was worth it, though. She figured the wards also probably triggered if mana flows brushed them the wrong way, but it had no such safety for just physically shoving junk into the mechanism.

She felt a small burst of pride at her accomplishment. Then she ran off to hide just outside the ecology classroom.

Professor Viridian’s voice was droning on through the door. She could just make out that he’d just gotten to the positive feedback cycles of the ecosystem scenario he was describing, which meant the lecture was coming to a close. She moved closer to the stairs, stepping softly so her boots didn’t make any noise on the stone tiles. When she listened, she could hear someone coming up the stairs.

Mirian waited, heart pounding, until she heard the bell ring. She peeked around the corridor, and sure enough, it was the cloaked figure, heading for the door. “HEY!” she shouted, and the man jumped and did a sort of half-turn. His skin was pale, hair blond, and his features looked very Akanan. “What are you doing? That corridor is forbidden! Hey!” The man, though startled, ignored her and went for the door. No doubt he figured once he was through it, it would leave the stupid shouty girl behind looking stupid, and there’d be no alarms to give him away. He quickly stuffed his key in the lock—or tried to. Desperately, he tried three more times, before he whirled and turned, a look of fury on his face.

“Hey, someone! This guy is trying to break into the myrvite kennels! Hey!” Mirian called. And the timing was perfect: ecology class was just getting out. People were heading to the stairwell anyways. Dozens of students were gathering. “Someone get Professor Viridian!” she shouted.

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The spy reached into his cloak and pulled out a wand.

“Watch out!” Mirian called, and ducked around the corner. There was the roar, crackle, and flash of a lightning spell going off. Screams erupted as students pushed past each other to flee. One boy had gotten hit, and was convulsing on the ground.

Professor Viridian walked around the corner, spellbook open. He didn’t say anything, but the spy stopped his advance, hesitating.

“It’s a lightning wand,” Mirian said to him.

Viridian smiled and said, “Thank you, my dear, I know.”