“Tink, Davros is gone,” Clink said.
“He’s probably seeing a man about a horse,” Tink replied.
“Why would he do that? We’re in a very thick forest right now. There’s nowhere to ride a horse properly. And it’s not like we need one to carry our provisions,” Clink said, confused.
Tink laughed. His brother was nearly as smart as he was when it came to chemicals and gadgets. But when it came to life, his brother was hopeless.
“No, I… You…” Tink sighed, “It means he’s calling on nature. You know, watering the plants. Airing the cobra. Returning his mead to the gods.”
Clink finally caught on. Maybe. He pretended to, at the very least. He wished his brother would speak more plainly sometimes. He didn’t understand how someone almost as smart as him in the fields of chemistry and machinery could be so unclear in his communication.
Zand woke up. He had not been able to sleep very well anyway, and now those two were gibbering away ruining any chance he might have had at a good rest. Before rising, he practiced his spells from a lounging position. He started to float, but only a few inches off the ground, and then quickly sunk back down. His hand grew warm, but no flames appeared. He stayed quite visible as well. It would seem he would need to consider practicing from various positions. But first things first. He needed to reliably turn invisible. It seemed unlikely he would be caught on his back in the middle of a mission. Particularly if he could learn to use his spells while standing and ready.
He sat and contemplated other ways to imagine himself disappearing. After many minutes of nothing, he remembered an old stage trick he’d seen in a play.
“Tink, Clink. Have either of you something that makes smoke? Like for a stage trick?” Zand asked.
Tink started to speak when Clink cut him off, “We aren’t stagehands. I’m sure I or even my brother could whip something like that up for you, but we brought very specific components for this mission. Why would you want something like that anyway? You know actual magic. Why would you bother with parlor tricks?”
“What do you mean even I could make it?” Tink asked, but no one paid any attention.
“I’m just exploring all of my options here. Thanks anyway,” Zand said and went back into deep thought.
“Hey, what did you mean by that?” Tink asked his brother.
“That we have components for the bombs but did not bring a whole laboratory of ingredients with us,” Clink said, missing the real question.
Zand tried to explain himself, but honestly, he wasn’t even sure if his line of thought was reasonable. Plus the twins were now bickering with each other and not paying any attention to him. He bit his tongue and resumed his contemplation. Nobody noticed he flickered out of view momentarily.
Pickpockets snatching unattended coins. Candles being snuffed out. Rain stopping and the sun coming out. Water boiling away in a kettle. Zand pictured each in turn, wondering if one of them was the secret to invisibility.
He practiced swiping at an imaginary coin while trying to let the magic overcome his whole body. After several minutes his arm started to tire and his skin was itching from the raw magical energy. He tried to focus the magic into something else, resulting in a large gout of flame rising from his hands and catching some leaves on fire.
“Fork-tailed imps!” Zand exclaimed.
The twins stopped their arguing long enough to look over and see the fire. Tink pulled a flask from his belt, gave it a shake, and popped the cork off in the direction of the flame. A long stream of foam sprayed out and extinguished the fire, leaving a thick gunk behind. It was Clink’s invention, a mixture of water, carbonite, and the sap of an yggdr tree. The yggdr tree was unique among trees, in that its wood never burned. The sap is what made mixture good for putting out fires, and the gunk that remained kept the surface from catching fire again until properly cleaned. It was a miracle invention, and the twins would often smear it all over their work clothes and skin while working with new chemical mixtures. It was quite sticky, else they would coat everything they owned in it.
Zand was still in shock. He had never released so much magic in one spell at once. He didn’t even know he had the capability. He would have to find a safer way to release the magic buildup. He wondered if he had tried to float instead if he would have shot up in the air like an eagle. The thought tickled and scared him.
He moved to a clearing, hoping to avoid another fire. He pictured a candle being snuffed out, but thought better of imagining himself being extinguished without a cleric or healer nearby. Sure, maybe nothing would happen, but what if he somehow stumbled across death magic and cast it upon himself by accident.
OK, what else? Ah, the rain. Could rain stopping be misinterpreted? He didn’t think so, so that was his next attempt. Zand conjured a spring rain in his mind. He saw the drops fall upon the earth and cause the soil darken. He let the magic build within himself, warming his insides like soup on a cold day. He then changed his thoughts to the end of the storm, the rain slowing to a sprinkle and then stopping entirely. The sun came out and warmed the wet ground, causing it to lighten in color again. Looking at his hand, he thought it looked brighter as if illuminated by the sun on a clear, summer day. He looked up and saw that the clouds in the sky had reduced in number and the sun shined unobscured.
“Did I do that?” Zand asked himself out loud. He tucked the memory away to try on a cloudy day.
His last idea was the water boiling away in a kettle. That too seemed like an idea to try with some precautions in place. At the very least, he wanted to be near a cool stream.
Out of ideas, Zand headed back to his companions. The twins were no longer arguing, and instead having their lunches. Grigor was still off scouting. Davros was not there.
“Did Davros say where he was going?” Zand asked.
“He hasn’t returned?” Tink asked, looking around.
“He hasn't returned,” Clink answered, focusing on his apple.
Neither answered his question, but Zand was used to such things. They were intelligent men, but utterly foolish in some ways. He hoped their adventuring would teach them about life.
He found his napping spot from earlier and lay down. Sleep overcame him almost immediately.
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