“Take a good look, Claygon. You too Selina, and Theresa. And you too, Brutus!” Alex spread his hands over a row of alchemical components on the table. “All of this stuff? This is what’s going to let you talk, my golem buddy. This is what’s going to let you sing.”

‘I…can’t wait…to sing…’ Claygon’s excitement was bleeding through his link with his father.

“Claygon says he can’t wait to sing,” the young wizard translated for his audience. “And buddy, you won’t have long to wait.”

“I can’t wait to hear him sing.” A delighted Selina was almost vibrating. “And talk. It’s not fair that you’re the only one who gets to hear him.”

Brutus’ massive heads timidly sniffed the elements that made up the speakerbox: a casing of hardened steel, Toraka’s sound replicator, and a few more internal components.

“Wow!” The Huntress patted Brutus’ middle head, peering down at the parts on the table. “These look pricey.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Alex said seriously. “It’s because they are. Especially the sound replicator: Toraka was an absolute saint to gift it to us.”

“Yeah, she sure was. How much would something like that cost?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Fair enough. Well, she’s welcome to share anything I kill any day.” Theresa examined another component. “What are these other parts?”

‘Yes…what are they, father?’ Claygon leaned in, inspecting the metallic items.

“I’m so glad you both asked.” Alex pointed to a funnel shaped device. “This is an amplifier. Toraka’s sound replicator’s very, very good for a musical golem that sits on a desk in an office, but you need something with a lot more oomph and more bass if you’re going to be shouting over the noise of a battlefield.”

He pointed to another device, this one resembling an eight-pronged magnet. “Now this is an interesting little part that I found in a corner shop that Professor Jules recommended. Their deals are absolutely criminal. Anyway, this is a mana interface, specifically a model with an attachment function.”

Alex reached up, tapping Claygon’s barrel-like stone chest. “The interface is what’s going to let you actually use the speakerbox. It’ll connect with your internal, artificial mana, just like your fire-gems do. It’s not going to be as well-integrated as if I’d built it into you when I was first attaching the fire-gems, but it’ll still do the trick. The neat thing about it, though, is how it attaches to you.”

Alex ran his finger around the front of his neck in an arc. “At first, I was thinking of making the speakerbox something you could wear around your neck like a necklace, but…I quickly came to the very scientific conclusion that the idea was a very, very stupid one.”

‘Because…it could get torn off…when I am fighting?’

“That’s exactly right.” Alex turned to Theresa and Selina, who were looking questioningly at the golem. “He said it could get torn off while he was fighting.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Theresa said. “He takes so much punishment that a random chain could melt or snap like a twig.”

Selina winced at those words. “I’m glad you can protect yourself and Alex, Claygon, but I wish you didn’t get hurt so much.”

‘I detect damage…but feel no pain.’ Claygon patted Selina’s shoulder with a large, stone finger. ‘Worry…not.’

“Claygon says he doesn’t feel pain,” Alex said. “In any case, what the attachment function does is creates a mana current between your body and the speakerbox, and uses it to actually secure the box to you. It’ll also spread your mana all through the speakerbox’s structure, which will pass along some of your sturdiness to the box. In the same way that regular clay and stone’s nowhere near as strong as your body is, the mana current will make the box stronger too.”

He tapped the steel casing. “This should make it so that it won’t break easily. Of course, you make so much mana that I’ll have to do some modifications, or you’ll probably blow up the entire speakerbox as soon as I attach it, but I’ve got a way around that. So, what it comes down to is that in the end, the box should be able to take a couple of direct hits from a demon’s warhammer and hold up just fine. I’m still going to add some extra shielding, which can’t hurt, but it should do what we want it to do just fine without it.”

‘This…sounds…like a lot of work, father…and you’re not as strong as I am…you get tired.’ Claygon bowed his head. ‘Thank you…so much for doing this.’

“No need for thanks, Claygon, I want to do this for you.” Alex smiled, patting the golem’s side. “Now, then!” He clapped his hands. “If I could get you all to mask up and stand back, I’ll get started. This process doesn’t involve anything strongly reactive—so no danger of blowing us up, or melting anyone, or disintegrating our bodies, or freezing us solid, or frying us in a massive jolt of electricity, or blasting us to component atoms or—”

“We get it, Alex,” Selina said dryly.

“Yeah, okay, you probably would.” Her brother scratched his beard—which looked slightly better groomed after a few lessons, tools and beard oils from Khalik—and turned back to the work-table. “It’s not dangerous, is what I’m saying. Theresa, if you could keep Brutus out of the way, though, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Done and done.” Theresa said. “Come on, Brutus! Let’s go upstairs for a bit. I’ll be right back, guys.”

He kissed her cheek. “Looking forward to it.

Rubbing his hands together, he began suiting up for the build.

Over the past few days, Alex had made a few ‘practice runs’. Using bits of scrap metal he’d forged into shapes similar to the speakerbox’s components, he’d simulated the building process repeatedly, using the Mark to hone his skills.

At the end of it all, he’d discovered that the practice runs really hadn’t been necessary: his skills in building and alchemy had grown and advanced with every project he’d crafted to this point, but, this project was personal, it was for Claygon, so every extra bit of care and caution he took, was well worth it.

He also couldn’t ignore how precious and expensive the components he’d be working with were.

Squinting through the lenses of his protective mask, he wielded a fire magic powered-soldering torch as deftly as if he’d been born with it in his fingers. With his mana running through its inner circuits, it produced a steady, very hot flame, which he carefully brought into contact with the amplifier.

There came a hiss of flame on steel, and—behind him—Selina’s stifled gasp reached him.

“Are you alright?” Theresa’s voice sounded muffled, her mask muting it.

“I’m okay,” the young girl’s tone was steel. “I’m okay.”

“Tell me if you’re ever not,” the Huntress said, her voice calm and reassuring.

‘Father…I have noticed that you often ask Selina how she…is when there is fire near…has she had an accident with fire, or is she afraid of it? Claygon leaned over Alex’s shoulder, his focus now on the young girl. Alex felt his curiosity bleeding through their link.

‘There is something, I’ll tell you about it when I finish the speakerbox.’ He thought as sparks began to fly.

With great care, Alex attached a bit of mana conductive solder to the end of the amplifier, melting it in place. With one quick motion, he took up the sound replicator, running his mana current through it, then pressing it to the solder. Metal bonded to metal, Alex felt his mana begin flowing through both amplifier and sound replicator in a single continuous current.”

‘Excellent. Good bond.’ He glanced at a pair of Wizard’s Hands waiting off to the side.

The duo of force spells drifted over to him, taking both speakerbox components in a firm, steady grip. Alex willed them to remain perfectly still—ensuring the bond would not release—then picked up a cryowand.

He spun it in his fingers, a big smile crept across his face: it had been one of the very first devices he’d learned about in Professor Jules’ advanced alchemy class since the semester began.

‘A cryowand is invaluable to the alchemist who needs to solder something quickly.’ The professor had held up the device in front of the class. ‘It’s also very useful for alchemists who are conducting heated reactions that have finicky temperature requirements. It can pull heat away from any precise spot you direct the wand’s ice magic to, which then allows for rapid spot-cooling. Take care with it, though, since it requires very precise mana manipulation. So—unless you are a complete madman, like some alchemists are—I would strongly, strongly suggest that you do not jump ahead and start experimenting with a cryowand. Even if you do happen to have access to one outside of this classroom.’

The accusatory look that she’d given Alex at the time had been one full of flint, vinegar, fire, death, and knowing.

Of course, without a shred of guilt, he’d immediately bought one for his lab and used the Mark to master it in a very short space of time. His mana manipulation abilities had grown to such an advanced level that the tool had been pretty basic for him to grasp.

Running his mana current through the long, thin device, he generated a spark of absolutely cold ice magic, pressing it against the solder gently, quickly cooling the substance without it cracking.

Setting it aside, he touched the sound replicator again, running his mana current through it and nodding with satisfaction when the current passed freely between both components, he then reached for his soldering torch.

Painstakingly, the components were attached to each other: an audio processor to translate Claygon’s mana into a signal the sound replicator could interpret; allowing the mana interface to pass mana from the golem to the other components.

He took up the steel casing next: soldering a pair of connections between the metal and the mana interface and then forged it all together.

Another application of the cryowand, and the treasured object was finished.

“And, here it is,” Alex announced proudly, holding up the device gingerly as though it was a priceless artefact he’d uncovered from the ancient world. “Your speakerbox is all done, buddy.”

‘Is…I cannot believe it…I will be able to talk…’ Claygon’s voice murmured in his mind.

“We’re going to hear his first words!” cried Selina.

“This is big.” Theresa agreed.

“Are you ready, Claygon?” Alex faced his golem holding up the box, his full attention focused on him.

‘I…’ the golem paused, looking slowly over his family. ‘I am ready…I want to talk.’

“Alright, then here we go.” The young man reached up, pressing the speakerbox to the stone chest. “Don’t worry, it might take a few minutes to calibrate.”

The moment the contacts of the mana interface touched Claygon’s torso, a loud rumble and hum cracked the air as the golem’s power coursed through it. The steel jerked free of Alex’s grip, sealing itself to the stone with the sharp clink of a lock.

Humming rose, increasing in volume, changing from a deep crackle to a high-pitched whine.

The golem stood very still, waves of confusion and panic reaching through the link with his father.

“It’s okay, Claygon,” Alex reassured him, “I know it feels weird, just let it do its work. It’ll feel better when it calibrates.”

‘I…’ the golem’s voice came through their link. ‘I want to go outside.’

Without another word he turned, climbing the stairs to leave the lab.

“Is something wrong?” Selina asked anxiously.

“No, Claygon wants to be outside.” Alex followed his golem. “The speakerbox is calibrating, and it’s making him feel weird.”

“Is he okay?” Theresa asked, climbing the stairs after her partner.

“He should be, but I’ll take the box off soon if he still feels strange. I imagine it’d be like having an extra arm bolted onto your body: I’d feel strange too!”

Running after the golem, they ascended the building floor by floor. Claygon’s great strides carried him up the stairs far quicker, and his speakerbox made peculiar noises with every step.

In one stride it crackled.

In another it whined.

For a brief, terrible instant, it gave a shriek so loud that Alex and Selina screamed.

“Is that normal?” His little sister asked.

“It should be.” Alex sounded unsure. “At least that’s what Toraka said.” Mounting the last few steps, he burst into the sunlight dappling their rooftop patio.

There stood Claygon—his polished, white stone gleaming, and his fire-gems burning with inner light—staring up at the sky. Nearby, the aeld staff leaned against a trellis, emitting waves of curiosity and concern.

“Claygon, are you okay, buddy?” Alex, Selina and Theresa rushed to his side.

Slowly, his great, stone head drifted downward, his gaze dropping as the speakerbox fell silent. The golem’s head stopped moving, stone eyes fixed on a row of budding flowers rising from a wooden planter box.

Nearby, a book on gardening that Selina had read to him the first night in their new home, lay.

A deep whisper emerged from the speakerbox, like a giant’s first breath.

“Daisies,” Claygon said, his eyes fixed on the smallest of the blooms.

Alex’s breath caught.

Theresa gasped, pulling off her mask.

Selina’s hands rose to her cheeks.

And Claygon turned to them. “Father…give me your answer…true…can you all hear me?” His natural voice was deep as the ocean, sounding like two mountains crashing together. It was a voice that rose from his mana core: the closest thing to his soul.

Alex swallowed. “I can hear you, loud and clear, buddy. Loud and clear.”