While Vonn's friends were away out west...

He had the wooden parts of a phonograph sitting around, and a messed-up attempt at an air pressure tank that he'd built with Ashfall but would need to scrap and rebuild. He was restraining himself from using some of their last iron to make a new gun barrel and instead kept busy trying to prepare that waterwheel. Which was easier said than done. He'd made a tiny model, completely messed it up, and redrawn it before starting on full-size lumber cutting.

An Aves arrived, saying, "Mail!"

Vonn put down his saw and waved. "You're Sunflare, right?"

The red bird bobbed his head. "I just stopped by the Reeve's place. They caught Baron Kolm!"

"Whoa, really? Who's 'they'?"

"The Scaled Nation. He fled, and they sent him back to Grandbridge as a gift. The Duke had him spiked right away." Sunflare shivered.

"Pretty sure he earned it. How about his chief Necromancer?"

"Nobody knows. Did you really see him killing people?"

"You know I got told not to 'spread rumors'. But I can tell you nasty stuff was going on. We keep finding shackles in this dungeon instead of treasure, and undead monsters. Tough ones, too; it took a bunch of professionals to even begin fighting their way into the place."

"Oh, I was hoping to see it."

"It's hours away on foot. I'd strongly advise getting a party and being ready to fly off." Vonn went over the known monster types and the fact that they showed up aboveground.

The Aves looked less sure, now. "I'll think about it. Here's Selen's letter."

Vonn paid him and let him go to seek out a group or just a meal. Selen had written about the execution of Kolm, sounding business-like. She'd moved into a disused wing of a mansion as her new dyeworks. It was causing problems with her family because she was borrowing the family's semi-adopted, live-in young employees. The implication was that they'd have to move out of the tower and live on their own. Which put pressure on Selen to keep earning that funding from the Duke.

"I did more chemistry this fall so I'm now an Alchemist 4, Mage 2. In doing that I confirmed my answer to a big question: physics here are mostly the same as we know, except where magic is involved. As opposed to being like one of those crafting games where you rub sticks together and get a chair, because some designer said so. What that means is, we're not limited to a fixed set of recipes. I can recreate some valuable dye products and earn a living. And some components of common potions.

"It also means I'm ticking off the Alchemists' Guild. It's not powerful here but the Duke is apparently using me to go around them. I'm trying to keep on good terms with them by not directly selling finished potions. It's a balancing act. My chirpy friend is bringing a jug of ink to try with your printers. I believe Zahar is sending you parts you ordered, on the same boat."

As usual, Selen drew a line on the page as she switched to more personal topics. "Please don't try to be a hero with this dungeon. The world needs you working for a long time to come. Rozilla at the 'gym' was asking about you. Let's meet again soon; maybe visit Ralator together for more lessons? We can introduce more people to your dice game!"

Vonn read the letter again while pacing. Selen was right to worry about him, but what about her? She'd been caught up in the politics of guilds and nobles, and he just had to deal with the undead.

Selen concluded, "And my Dad and his siblings are finally courting again. They were unmarried for years but decided I'm a grown bird and they should move on. I'm glad for them!"

He got out his beloved fountain pen and wrote about wanting to meet in Ralator's town before winter. About Tazo's magery and how great she was already becoming at it. About how amazing Selen's personal factory might become. About making candles and working with the printers and really, anything that came to mind. He wrote to her about spacecraft and highways and pizza and puns, from their secret hoard of shared knowledge. Writing in English helped those memories pour out. When Birb came in and said something it seemed alien and he didn't understand, the first time.

"I said, are you all right, Vonn?"

He had covered two pages, front and back, and ink stained his left hand. His ears flicked back. "Distracted," he said. "Writing to Selen; her messenger friend is in town."

Birb chirped. "I have things to tell her, too! Can I borrow your pen?"

"In a moment."

He forced himself to focus long enough to add a point he'd just thought of: "I told you of the Necromancers' theory about germs. If that's why disease is uncommon here, well, I don't know how baking and brewing work then. But more relevant to you, that means you don't have special protection against toxic chemicals. So keep safe."

He made himself sign off and turn the valuable little pen over. "I need to pick up a package. You, by the way, are one of the only people I'd ever lend this pen to."

"I'll give it back." While intent on writing, she muttered, "So you'll let me fly a plane sometime."

Vonn pretended not to hear, though he intended to let her fly. It just might be a while before he got to build another plane. He had a technical problem with that: the first model had relied on the slight antigrav effect of golden magicite that he didn't know how to reproduce, to make the engine lighter. The frostfire engine was really best for ground use where its weight wasn't a big hindrance. So, he could focus on upgrading it or reinventing the true internal combustion engine. The Wrights had used a dinky one made of aluminum, which he didn't have. Maybe some magical material...