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Josef and I walked along at a reasonable pace, carefully encouraging passers-by to lose interest as we made idle chitchat. Halfway through, when there seemed to be far too many castle denizens swarming around us for my liking, I hummed a tune, pouring all of my will into it: Nothing to see here. Just go along with your activities.

I fed a small stream of magic from my Core and into my song; it was what the stars would sound like—serene, bringing calmness in their wake. I circled around the melody, allowing my spell to extend its reach, further and further, gradually eating into others. Their minds felt like rocks in my river path, and I had to find a way around them in order to properly exert my magic and make it seem like I was merely humming to occupy the silence.

Eventually, they all lost interest in us. I still kept the song at a low frequency, a basic barrier to keep people away. Josef didn't protest at my blatant use of magic. If anything, I should say that he was relieved. Hopefully I was subtle enough so that the others wouldn't recognise that I was casting a spell upon them.

Soon enough, we reached the Tinkers' workroom. But instead of leading me into the tiny store house like yesterday—had it only been yesterday?—Josef guided me towards his worktable. He sat at it and gestured for me to take out my flute. "You think you can weave an illusion of sound around us? I'd do it myself, but I don't have the proper tools on me."

I nodded hesitatingly. Keeping people at bay was one thing, weaving an illusion was another. Elise had taught me the art: in order to make people believe in something that doesn't exist, you have to exert your will over them and be convincing. Except that what we can't do through words, we do through music.

I needed my Medium for this. I reclaimed it from Josef, put my lips to the blowhole and started to play. In my mind, I reached out to pick at the melody, gradually finding my rhythm and stride. I first created a subtle illusion around us, showing that Josef and I were merely chitchatting about everyday subjects, and that I wasn't trying to perform any spells. Curious eyes which were upon me and my flute diverted their attention elsewhere.

Then I modulated into another key. I pushed myself into the minds of the people surrounding us—they threatened to overwhelm me, like debris being whipped up into a hurricane that was heading straight for me. I steeled myself so that I wouldn't get caught up in the storm. Slowly, I found my Core and imagined my magic to be extending outwards, easing into others' wills and veiling over them.

My lips were so dry, and my limbs felt like they had detached themselves from my body. I wanted to drop the spell and curl up on the floor and sleep, but I knew the dangers of abruptly pulling out of a half-cast spell. So I continued. With one last burst of energy, I managed to cling onto the idea of letting the Tinkers here words that weren't there, and the sensation of a bubble of protection encasing us tickled my skin.

I let the tune die down gradually. My knees buckled, but Josef caught me in time. He forced me to sit down on his stool; I fell onto it in an ungraceful heap. "You should have told me that you still weren't skilled enough in illusions," said Josef. "I could have helped you. Somehow."

I managed a short bark of laughter. "Well, now you tell me! But it's good practice, I suppose. I don't know how long my illusion will hold up though."

"So we keep this conversation short," he replied tersely. "You must have just come out of Lord Himmel's office. What did he have to say to you?"

"I'll be leaving for Starkfurt in a week's time. Could this be an opportunity for us to deal with him?"

I expected him to look excited. Instead, all he did was draw his brows together in confusion. "Shouldn't you be telling Elise about this too?"

"Josef, this isn't the time," I hissed. "What's come over you?"

His throat bobbed up and down uncertainly, and his eyes darted about the room. He had the aura of a prey about to be corner by a predator—an aura I used to exude all the time whenever I traversed the streets of Hamelin. "I'm sorry," he says, tone apologetic. He rubs his face with his palms, trying to calm himself down. "It's frightening, to suddenly be able to talk about these matters. I—I don't know what to make of it."

"After a whole decade of being forced to bow down to someone's will? I'd say that was a normal reaction." I gave him a smile; he only bristled even more.

"Why do you trust me so much anyway?" he demanded. "Why not Elise?

This was getting out of hand. Was Lord Himmel's hold over his citizens truly that powerful? "Look, Josef, if you think you can't do this, we'll talk about it another day—"

"No!" he cried. He buried his head in his hands. "No, saints no. I have to do this." He suddenly doubled over, wheezing. He was mumbling incoherently; his breaths were drawn in quick, sharp huffs. I sprang onto my feet—ignoring a lance of pain—and put my hands to his temples.

Tentatively, I sang something. It was an odd plucking at the back of my mind, a memory of something long-forgotten. I just let it flow, not bothering to think too much about it. The melody came as instinctively as breathing; I was only vaguely aware that it was meant to soothe, to heal, to give the impression that a new dawn would come, even if the moon bled red and the earth turned black.

His breathing soon evened out, and he was no longer trembling to the tips of his fingers. He tried to stand up. I helped him, though I was dwarfed and his hulking weight pressed on my bad leg terribly. Fortunately, that small spell hadn't taken up much of my energy. Otherwise I might not have been able to continue holding up the illusion.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I lost control for a moment back there. The compulsion feels different now. I think if—if I give in to it, it'll eventually eat into my mind."

"Do you feel better now?" I desperately wanted to sit down, but I allowed him to take the stool anyway.

"I do." He continued to massage his temples. "That will teach me to falter."

"Why didn't anyone react like this before?"

"Because no one had ever managed to find a hole in the binding." He straightened himself. "But I would like to know why you trust me so much."

"Elise is definitely out of my options at the moment," I answered crisply. "That leaves me with you."

"And so? Am I really that more trustworthy than her?"

That gave me pause. "You could drink more truthteller potion," I suggested.

"But what if the truthteller potion wasn't a real one?" he retorted. I narrowed my eyes at his broad figure. Even when he was sitting down, and I was standing, he seemed like a giant. If only I weren't so small. "How can you be so sure that I can be trusted?"

"You came from Hamelin..." I said uncertainly.

"Is that a plausible excuse?" His tone was sharp, and they pierced an unseen part of my soul. However, the hurt dissolved away when he offered a grin in apology. "You really need to consider your words carefully. You are going to Starkfurt, heart and centre of the Council, where politics and courtly games run rife. And you so readily divulge such information to outside ears?"

If only I could duck my head into a hole now. Or if I could melt into a puddle. Or both. "All right, I understand," I snapped, folding my arms across my chest protectively. "Anyway, what do you suggest I do?"

"Wait, you're serious about not conferring to Elise regarding the matter?" An incredulous light shone in his eyes.

"I may change my mind later," I said carefully, "but for now, I'm asking for your advice."

He emitted an impatient grunt. "Personally, I think the Council would very much like to know about what has been going on in Heidelberg."

"How can I escape Lord Himmel long enough to tell the Council? And will they believe me?" As desperately as we needed to curb the situation, the idea of me facing some of the most powerful sorcerers in the land made me apprehensive.

The light in his eyes darkened. They were looking at me, yet they weren't focused on me. They belonged to someplace far away, a land beyond imaginings. Then Josef said slowly, "We have one week to decide that." He lumbered to his worktable, fishing random things out of a workbox: an enamel box, an awl, several trinkets, and plenty of other things I couldn't identify. When he found what he was looking for, he released a sharp exclamation of joy. He pushed a ring into my hands; I held it up. It was a simple silver band, with engravings and without gemstones.

"I have an identical one." True enough, a similar ring was in his grasp. "If you want to see me, or vice versa, blow onto the ring and say 'fauklas' three times. The ring will glow for the receiver and I'll know that you want to see me."

"Fauklas," I rolled the word in my tongue, testing its edges, its curves and slurs. "How do we know what time we can see each other?"

"I'm occupied with my duties for nearly the whole day..." he said. "Perhaps the day after the ring glows, before lunchtime? We should be able to steal a few quick moments then, right?"

I thought about it for a while. "All right," I agreed. "Where?"

"The gardens."

"Won't it be odd for a Tinker to roam the gardens?" I said without thinking.

"Not for this Tinker," he said with a wink.

Of course he wouldn't suggest the location unless he'd be able to slip away. "I see. Whenever you're ready then."

"Whenever you're ready."

I felt holes beginning to seep through my illusion. I focused on my Core, drawing the energy back and bringing it down.

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