Midwinter

"Yes, we'll have the guards spread the rumor that we've been sent down the Ebe to plow roads or something," said Mauritane.

"What is this, then?" said Satterly

"It is the means by which you may achieve parole," said Mauritane. "According to your file, you're here for the remainder of your life. Is it true that humans live only sixty or seventy years?"

"Some longer than that," said Satterly. "But that's about right."

"Sparse time to be wasting it here," said Silverdun.

"What would I have to do?" said Satterly.

"Yes, Mauritane," said Silverdun. "What is he for?"

"He," said Mauritane, "is a scientist."

"Really?" said Silverdun, eyebrow raised. "That is interesting."

Satterly chuckled. "Well, I am a scientist, but I'm afraid we don't really deserve the reputation we've developed in Faerie."

"Don't be shy. Do some science for us!" said Silverdun, raising his glass.

Mauritane leaned forward, mirroring Silverdun. "I'm not sure if one can simply 'do' science, at least not without the proper equipment. Perhaps Satterly can explain this."

Satterly pursed his lips. "Mauritane is at least partly right. Many scientific displays require equipment of one kind or another. But it's not the sorcery that the Fae seem to think it is; it's really just a method of inquiry. To the layman, it's often fairly uninteresting."

Silverdun shook his head. "That's not what I've heard. I once met a man who'd been to your world; he said you have houses that fly and boxes that transmit images and sounds from place to place. If that's uninteresting, I'd love to know what intrigues you."

"I may have one thing to show you," said Satterly. "If you'll let me return to my cell, I can get it."

"Go," said Mauritane.

When Satterly returned, he carried with him an item forged of black metal; a rounded base with a thick cylinder above connected to it by a rounded arm of the same material.

"This is a microscope," he said. "One of the few things they let me keep. I told them it was a religious statuette."

"What is it?" asked Silverdun.

"In your language you'd call it a Tiny-Thing-Appears-Itself-Large-ForYou-With-It or something equally silly."

"Does it work?" said Mauritane.

"Yes, I'll show you." Looking down, he noticed the dead spider curled into a tight ball at Silverdun's feet. "If I may," he said, reaching for it. He took the spider and wedged it between two differently shaped pieces of glass. These he slipped into a pair of silver guides on the base of the microscope. He placed the instrument gently on the desk and twisted the thick cylinder, which Mauritane could see possessed a number of protrusions on its bottom. Satisfied with his choice, Satterly manipulated a knob on the side of the device and peered into the top.

"Not enough light," he muttered.

Silverdun suffused the air around them with green witchlight.

"Okay," said Satterly. "Take a look."

Mauritane peered into the top of the microscope, at first seeing nothing. Then his eye adjusted, and he discovered a circle of light. There, beneath his eye, was the visage of a hideous creature, with eight stalked eyes and pinching mouthparts, like something out of the Mere Swamps.

"What is this?" he asked.

"That's the spider, only much, much larger. This magnification is fifty times how it appears with the naked eye."

Silverdun looked down into the eyepiece, frowning. "Does the spider itself actually become extremely large at some point? Because I could see where that would be useful."

"Well, no. It's just how you're seeing it that changes. The lenses inside the microscope refract the light coming from the spider to make it appear much larger than it is."

"Hm," said Silverdun, reaching for a jug of watered wine, "You're right, Satterly. Science is boring."

Satterly smiled, whether at Silverdun or at some internal joke it was difficult to tell.

"Silverdun," said Mauritane, dismissing him, "if you knew how much of our existing war magic was based on human scientific knowledge, you'd be less glib. The development of explosives, field glasses, and some others I can't mention have their base in the science of his people."

"You think his knowledge will be useful on our journey."

"I do."

Satterly raised his hand. "I'm still not sure exactly what you're asking," he said.

"I will tell you what I have been told," said Mauritane. He recounted the contents of the Chamberlain's letter, the original having already faded to white. He explained as best he could the dangers of the Contested Lands and even reiterated Silverdun's concerns about the legitimacy of the deal the Chamberlain offered.

"Now you know as much as we know," said Mauritane. "If I'm going to ask you to risk your neck, you should understand the danger as well as the potential reward."

"Thank you, and I'm sold, if you'll have me. I've always wanted to visit the Contested Lands. If half of what I've heard of them is true, it should be quite an adventure."

Silverdun snorted. "What a bizarre race of creatures you come from!"

"A few more questions," said Mauritane. "Are you a skilled rider?"