Irwyn took a deep breath as he felt the mage disappear again. He was pretty sure he had successfully intimidated the man at least. What he was not completely sure about was what they had actually been looking for.

In the moment he had made the decision that admitting to not knowing what caused them to believe that there was a high-end safe house being set up would not look good since he had next to no idea what they had meant. Well, he was reasonably confident it had something to do with Elizabeth.

Instead, Irwyn decided to improve the Old Hummingbird’s - and damn he hoped he actually got that right because otherwise, it all fell apart - opinion of his prowess. He was not technically speaking lying about the infiltration skirting very close to the third tenet of not messing with House Blackburg since he was becoming more and more sure that Elizabeth belonged to one branch family or another. With enough imagination, he was kind of exchanging favours and it was unlikely anyone would call him out on that anyway. Ideally though, the Old Fowl that infiltrator reported to would conclude that ‘Young Mockingbird’ had some connections to house Blackburg and would leave him alone, possibly even try to appease Irwyn.

The only part where he had actually lied was about entering the city last week because the fewer people knew about his exact movements, the better.

What Irwyn needed to do now was figure out what in the world the man had actually been looking for. Irwyn had, with the slightly heightened cognition that he was maintaining even now, noticed the gem that the spy had been carrying. It looked a lot like one of the gems used to detect mages, except it seemed to be calibrated to something else, somehow. And whatever that target was, it seemed to be somewhere in the hallway in front of his room. A corridor where he frankly felt nothing particularly magical anymore.

So he touched the wall and ran his hand along it, going down the hallway on both sides, hoping that perhaps the physical contact would help him notice something. Still nothing. So instead he tried looking around for any discrepancy, but that was difficult considering that he was not familiar enough to notice anything changing and there was nothing blatantly obvious.

Then he had a thought: It was night outside and he did just obtain a boost to his capacity for casting and controlling magic with the cognition technique. Irwyn closed his eyes and delved into the Light. Into his dreamed-about way to perceive all it touched, excited that for the first time it might become actually useful. The inside of the hotel had no windows, however, there were simple magical lighting arranged all day long. Irwyn realised that the source of light being non-mundane only made it easier. He had managed to cut his perception off the majority of the building and only feel through the light that was in in the radius of around a floor below and above.

It was still a lot. There was always a surprising quantity of things to perceive when the light inundated everything, not to mention he was being distracted by several people in their own rooms with lights on.

Not passing out and finding something specific was also difficult. The perception kept feeding him useless information as his brain struggled to process everything. For example, Irwyn now knew with great clarity that there were 2 rats sleeping behind a thin wall and knew exactly where they were. But he persevered and eventually, after perhaps a minute that felt far longer, Irwyn found something. He quickly cut the perception and breathed out. After a moment, all the punishment that struck him was the barest hint of a headache; weak enough he could have just been imagining it as a bit of a reverse placebo.

What he had perceived had explained to him why he struggled so much to find anything beforehand: The damn thing, a rectangle of some sort hidden behind a thin fake wall, was placed into the ceiling. Irwyn needed to conjure several steps and a platform to stand on just to reach it. There he carefully removed the bit of fake wall using tools of solid light which revealed the thing hidden beneath.

Even this close, Irwyn still felt no trace of magic. That was unlikely to be the case though as the box was slightly but visibly glowing from the sheer mana churning through it. It was genuinely incredible that someone had managed to make the enchantment that subtle magically.

Irwyn summoned a small pike of Starfire to perhaps try to poke at it, however, as soon as his conjuration got anywhere near though, clear letters surfaced, written in blue.

You are about to tamper with privileged private property. Any such interference will be investigated and persecuted to the full extent of the law. Any damages caused by defensive mechanisms are not our responsibility, should you proceed.

Well, Irwyn certainly was not keen on testing out any such defences. However, there was one good thing he got from that: The letters appearing had finally caused magic to leak out, clearly revealing to Irwyn that the box was mainly related to Time/Space.

Considering his current circumstance his best guess was that it might be some sort of teleportation beacon. Elizabeth had, after all, teleported right in front of his door just that morning. He had to, however, assume that there were other functions as well. It had been a bit uncanny that Elizabeth had arrived just after he had woken up. There was a real possibility it was also there to spy on him.

And it was not really like he could just destroy the device, whatever it actually was. Elizabeth would just have a new one installed in a better-hidden location and it also ran the risk of needlessly angering her. No, Irwyn would keep it to himself that he knew where the device was. He would figure out as many of its functions as he could over the following days or weeks and he would damn remember exactly where the thing could be found.

Because if it ever came down to it and he needed to run from whoever Elizabeth’s family were, he better be ready to burn it down to slug in a split second.

He placed back the fake wall and returned to his room. It would do him no good worrying about it. Therefore, he chose to read a book while maintaining the magical cognition enhancement. He had received quite a lot to read after all.

Irwyn opened his eyes in the morning groggily, closer to noon than dawn really. Dervish had seemingly forgotten - whether deliberately or not - to mention a small side effect that the cognitive enhancement caused. It actually seemed predictable in hindsight: Of course thinking significantly faster and more while, in a way, stimulating the brain would cause insomnia.

On the other hand, Irwyn had done a lot of reading after he had given up on falling asleep. Besides finishing the ‘Introduction to magic’, he had started one which concerned itself with the linguistics of spellcasting called ‘The Word and the Power’. It had confirmed some of his earlier hypotheses and corrected several errors.

Chanting before casting a spell did, in fact, make it easier to use. What Irwyn had not understood was how this scaled to higher-level magics. Supposedly, chanting made spells cheaper and easier to cast by both a percentage and a flat amount, however, they were not allowing the mage to cheat by achieving impossible efficiencies. There was a limit to how much easier a spell could become to cast. Otherwise put, chanting’s effectiveness was inversely proportional to how well someone could cast the spell itself. Which made it much more important for learning new spells or casting extremely complex and powerful magic that were far harder to master. Most likely he would eventually run into a spell that he could not cast without a chant. At least not at first.

There were also the inner workings of chants: They assisted the control a mage would have over the spell by what the textbook called ‘Bribing Fate’. Apparently, Logos had imbued into reality certain ‘patterns’ while the Aspect had been creating Fate itself. What the mages were doing was basically telling those patterns what they wanted to do and in doing so, Fate made it easier for them. The longer and more specific the chant was, the greater this assistance, up to the previously mentioned limit. If Irwyn understood it correctly, chants were basically asking Fate to bend chance so that any mistakes made in spellcasting mattered less and to let some small mistakes get mitigated, helping the spell manifest what the chant described.

Incantations also greatly differed in quality. Rhyming was basically universally considered the first step anyone should take to make incantations better - which explained why everyone did it - but there was more. Some spells could be more effective for some people and less for others, the book used spells that called on some achievement of the caster’s ancestors as an example or that great achievements in some regard could give mages additional ‘weight’ when chanting related spells. It then went on to try an elaborate on what such achievements could be. Among the examples such simple things as personal belief or professing a desire could have an impact as long as they were true. Of course, this worked the other way around: Saying words contradictory to oneself or attempting to make the invoked spell do things that were not part of the incantation and similar attempts would make the spell harder, more expensive to cast and trickier maintain.

That being said, Irwyn had to get up and get dressed. With a tired groan, he left his bed and adorned the suit. He would need to get new casual clothes, perhaps later in the day when he split up from whatever Elizabeth had in mind. And just like the previous day, she was already knocking at his door, mere minutes after his waking up. Not startled this time around, Irwyn was already halfway to the door when her knuckles touched the wood and managed to open the door while her hand was still raised from her last knock.

“You do realise this basically confirms to me you are somehow watching me, right?” Irwyn sighed, trying to feel magic in the hallway in the meantime. And just as he had expected, there was just a bit of Time/Space magic gradually dispersing just beneath the box he had found yesterday. Definitely what she used to teleport here then.

“Well obviously,” Elizabeth seemed to see no problem with surveillance though. “It is much more convenient to know when you wake up. How much sleep did you manage to get?”

“So you did expect the insomnia and just did not tell me,” Irwyn gave her a glare.

“It didn’t occur to me until I realised you were still asleep well past morning, sorry I didn’t warn you,” Elizabeth squirmed a bit under Irwyn’s glare. “I at least brought you something to hopefully make up for it,” she waved her hand lightly and then, without the slightest trace of magic, two black ceramic mugs manifested in her hands, something steaming from within them.

“This is?”

“Coffee.”

“Which is?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow.

“Is it not… commonly known?” Elizabeth was a bit wide-eyed about that.

“I do not think I have heard of it, no.”

“I suppose the beans are grown mostly outside the Federation or in the Duchy of Red,” which was the Southernmost duchy, constantly hot, likely due to the proximity to the Everburn Isthmus. “It is a mundane drink that reduces the body’s desire to sleep.”

“I suppose I can give it a try,” Irwyn shrugged and took the cup from her. The beverage itself was black, which meant it was probably popular by default around these parts, and still bubbling hot. Not that Irwyn was bothered by heat as he did not burn. He took a big gulp and grimaced. “Bitter,” far, far too bitter for his tastes. It reminded him of half-burnt food. He took another smaller gulp but it did not get any better. “I do not think this is something I will like.”

“I see…” Elizabeth looked at him and then glanced at her own cup guilty.

“Do not restrict yourself for my sake,” Irwyn sighed. Elizabeth gave him one more thoughtful glance and then also took a big gulp. “I will finish mine later,” she said, placing her free hand on Irwyn’s cup and both vanished. Being in direct contact allowed Irwyn to sense the slightest trace of Time/Space magic at play and he was basically certain it was not cast by Elizabeth, his best guess was the dress or some other ridiculous artisan piece of incredible power. “You can also reconsider.”

“I do not think I will but thank you,” Irwyn nodded. “You have said that you had a plan for today. Has that been disrupted by my… oversleeping?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Elizabeth seemed surprised by the very concept of a precise schedule it seemed. “It might work out just fine this way. I doubt we would have spent the whole day at the Dredge.”

“The Dredge, a name which you refuse to tell me the meaning of,” Irwyn sighed lightly.

“Well, I think it can be quite something if you see it first for yourself,” Elizabeth smiled and extended her hand - not that she actually needed to as she had shown the day prior - and Irwyn took it, being somewhere else the next moment.

What immediately appeared to him was that the Void mana in the area was distinctly thicker, which in Abonisle was already higher than anywhere else he had been. They were standing in a metal-plated room of some sort with very little besides magical lighting and a gate. Irwyn raised a questioning brow towards Elizabeth.

“We will walk the rest of the way,” she explained. “The Dredge does not mesh well with too nearby teleportation. The corridor will lead us to a private viewing platform,” she motioned towards the gate and it opened before her. Irwyn wondered whether it was recognising her specifically somehow or would just do that for anyone. The room they had entered through seemed only accessible by teleportation after all. He was not really sure what to expect but as they stepped into the long corridor, another gate at the other hadn, he immediately noticed the dense magical inscription covering the walls. Irwyn was not sure what their actual purpose was but there was a lot of them, all glowing with churning and barely disguisted magic. All he could tell was that they were Void magic and carried around a lot of power.

“They are mostly conductors and isolation arrays,” Elizabeth noticed his eyes wandering. “Otherwise this place might be dangerously flooded with Void magic.”

“Conductors for what?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow.

“Well, a city requires a source of power and resources. And Abonisle has to be protected from being this close to a boundary to the Void.” she smiled lightly. “It’s actually in the name, Abon from abandon and isle for isles. Until around 2 centuries ago it was an uninhabitable fallout area, before a certain mage lord figured out how to solve both of the issues at once,” at that point they were nearing the door at the far end. It once again opened by itself at Elizabeth’ beckon, the presence of Void magic in the air increasing two-fold.

There was, indeed, a viewing platform. With several cushioned armchairs and tables sitting on a platform surrounded by large glass - or at least seemingly glass - windows. And beyond those lied a hall of truly surprising size. From the platform it reached at least 20 meters down and was so large that he struggled to see the far end of it. And there were many things to see there.

The first that caught Irwyn’s eye were countless rectangles, moving at a glacial pace right beneath the viewing platform: They were, if he had to guess, around 5 meters wide and slightly longer. They moved in a tight formation on some sort of conveyer system and he could see the edges of shimmering magical walls. And their contents were incredibly varied. He could see what appeared to be piles of literal garbage in one, except in the middle he saw what appeared to be a scepter imbued full of jewellery. In the next two there was an assortment of seemingly random rocks, except Irwyn spotted a hint of visibly glowing ore right underneath the surface. The next one contained what appeared to be a half of a sail-ship, the rest nowhere in sight. And there were many, each containing haphazard items; some appeared expensive, some cheap. Sometimes the variety split in the middle and completely different items started while other times the same kind of things took up several of these rectangles. Some were even empty.

His eyes wandered to where it was all headed: Further down the hall, the rectangles were snatched up by machinery into one of several dozen evenly spaced work platforms. There, massive humanoids covered in an oversized full armor of metal were seemingly sorting them in groups, each one clumsily laboring with the load combined with their own bulk. Probably splitting everything into the useful and the useless. He spotted one rectangle just cleared out, placed on a different belt headed in the opposite direction, back to where they had come from.

“Are those people or golems?” Irwyn asked as he squirted. He could not quite tell.

“Mostly people, though there are simple golems capable of carrying burdens,” Elizabeth explained. “They need extensive protections due to the incredible density of Void mana in the facility itself, however, sorting requires a human touch. There is currently no known living crafter in all of the Federation that can create golems capable of operating with such independence.”

“Is it even safe?” Irwyn was more curious than concerned about the workers. He could feel his skin crawling from the sheer Void mana from behind the ‘private booth’ that no doubt had premium protection.

“There have been no fatal injuries in the past ten years of work at this facility,” Elizabeth said with what seemed to be a bit of pride.

“I see,” Irwyn nodded and turned his head the other way. The rectangles of things had to be coming from somewhere after all.

What he found around the source was a bonafide fortress. Thick walls of metal surrounded a large circle area, the barricades glowing with magic. There were several exits, one of which the full rectangles moved through and through another the empty ones slid in.

There were also weapons. Dozens of massive cannons pointed directly at each exit. Discs densely inscribed with dormant magic, perhaps hundreds of them. Then there were golems, but the kind that did not bother with humanoid shape and were instead clearly meant for combat, some covered in dimly lit blades or spikes, though there was a great variety of them, all sitting unmoving nearby.

And in the middle of that fortress was something that defied common sense. It was, to Irwyn’s magical sense, not even there. Not just that he might feel no magic from it, but he knew - with absolute certainty - that there was Nothing in its place. His eyes saw a black blur that never moved yet appeared to be shifting in his eyes like an optical illusion.

He stared at it for a moment when something moved. And things poured out, neatly down into the slowly sliding rectangles. It seemed like bits of rotted wood at a glance. It kept pouring for several seconds before suddenly, molten gold rained onto the wood, setting it aflame. That did not seem to bother the enchantments at all as everything remained inactive. The Nothing stopped for a second and then barfed out a single glob of loose dirt, once again going dormant afterwards.

“And I assume that is the Dredge,” Irwyn stared wide-eyed with a slight gasp. What in the world was he even looking at?