Lita Burke

Lita’s rush through the rainstorm had soaked her clothes. She stepped aboard the one-person bulbous transport that would carry her to Sir Bright, who waited on the nearby lighter-than-air purple whale airship with a grove of trees growing on its back. She had snagged a fluffy towel from a stack by the door, dried her face, and studied the nearby flying whale through the rain-streaked windows.

“What I need now is a drying spell.” Lita draped the towel over her shoulders. “Kadmeion, would you please lend a hand?”

That is why I sent the rain, the towel replied in mind voice.

The clever wizard had infused the towel with a delightful skin-tickling spell. His ~twisty~ magic whisked the water from her sodden clothes. In a moment, her garments were dry and silky soft. The sweet scents of rosewater and lavender wrapped around Lita. Invisible, gentle fingers then caressed her head and transformed the mop of wet strands into dry glossy tendrils. The spell eased her curls upward. A clock chime reverberated. A magenta hair ribbon appeared and wove itself into the uplifted tresses, creating a fetching crown braid on Lita’s head. Kadmeion’s spell then caressed her cheek with an affectionate light touch and withdrew.

“That was lovely, Kadmeion.” She fanned her hot cheeks with fluttering hands. These charming magicians could be so forward.

The wizard’s magic had distracted Lita from the transport’s movements. The floating purple whale now loomed alongside the transport. The hatch hissed open. The transport spat its gangway into the connecting hatch on the whale. A canopy blossomed over the gangway to shelter it from the rain.

Here’s Sir Bright

Sir Bright crouched in the vestibule of the purple whale, holding a pocket watch. He stood, tucked the magical timepiece away, and beckoned her to join him. Lita all but skipped across the gangway.

“Hail, fellow magician well met, Brighton Twice-Seventh Son Mage.”

“Welcome, Milady Fabulist Lita, my darling magical scribe.” Bright swept her up into a twirling embrace. She giggled with delight. The elf-kind set Lita back onto her feet, held her at arm’s length, and grinned. “Let’s have a spot of tea, and a chat. You’ve been away a long while. I have much to share.”

The tea service had followed her from the transport. It now floated to the large wooden table next to the ship’s wheel. It settled into place and landed on the table with a gentle plunk.

Lita glanced around the ship’s bridge. “I expected to see the Patsy Nottle, not this fine whale of a ship.”

“The wizard and I crafted this custom airship for a client, and I’m delivering it after my visit here with you.” Bright held out a chair for Lita. “After delivery, I’ll return to the Patsy Nottle.”

“Wizard Kadmeion couldn’t join us?” She saw to the matter of pouring their tea, then selected a scone. The fragrant hot drink went well with the cold rainy day.

“Kadmeion sends his regrets. He had an urgent magical matter concerning a troll’s wardrobe. He left a summary of his predicament on the manuscript shelf in the Belfry.”

“I’ll see to that unfinished story soon,” she said. “What of this gift you mentioned in your note?”

The narfleet set down his teacup and half-eaten scone, stood, and went to the pile of navigation charts on the far side of the bridge. He selected a paper halfway down the stack and returned to his seat at the table. Bright handed the schematics diagram to Lita. “Please look at this first, then I’ll give you our gift.”

“You look anxious.” Lita turned her attention away from Bright’s handsome blue eyes and looked at the paper. “This is a Leonardo’s Airborne Contraptions original design?”

“Yes. Kadmeion and I made some adjustments.”

Lita studied the blueprint. The Clockpunk Wizards had made her a mechanical automaton—a magical sentient creature with a metal body—constructed by Bright and animated by a minor demon summoned by Kadmeion.

Here’s Archytas of Tarentum

“Says here that Kadmeion summoned a high-class demon.” Lita looked at Bright. “Which one?”

“Archytas.” Bright selected another scone and slathered it with cherry preserves. “We had high ambitions since it was a gift for you.”

“I know of him. That demon was a scientist. Founder of mathematical mechanics. Plato’s friend.” Lita smoothed her hand across the parchment. “I understand that Archytas of Tarentum created a flying wooden dove that used an air current mechanism hidden inside the body.”

“Yes?”

Lita studied the notes on the margins of the schematics drawing. “An ornithopter corkscrew propeller, and bird wings? Leonardo must have added the propeller. The bird design, of course, came from Archytas. The mechanical automaton is also a…toaster?”

Bright nodded. “A heroic toaster.” The elf-kind poured more tea for the both of them. “That’s how he describes himself. Heroic. He also insisted on having wings and the propeller.”

Her darling magicians had made Lita a most unusual gift. “I still have questions.”

“The homunculus can speak about itself.” Bright took out his pocket watch and cupped the timepiece in his palm. “He calls himself Archy. Named after his demon Archytas of Tarentum. He’s prepared a song for you. The Archytas demon sings in the key of G. Does our Startling Clockwork Automata Gift please you?”

“I’m very pleased,” Lita said. “Please ask Archy to join us?”

Bright whispered a word to his pocket watch, then tucked it away. He picked up a clean empty plate from the tea service tray.

A faint whir-click-click sounded from the bowels of the whale. Whir-click-click. WHIR-CLICK-CLICK.

Here’s Archy

In flew what the schematics identified as Archy 2.0 (Modified Mechanical Avian Form). The automaton’s corkscrew-type ornithopter flight gear hummed like a friendly bumblebee. Archy wore tinted aviator goggles. He flew a graceful figure-8, paused, and ejected a toasted slice of sourdough at Bright. The narfleet caught the buttered slice on his waiting plate and offered the treat to Lita. She took the plate.

Archy hovered a few paces away from her. “Greetings, Madam Lita. Sir Bright and Wizard Kadmeion speak highly, longly, and oftenly about you.”

“Well met, Flying Toaster Corkscrew-Powered Automaton named Archy.” Lita picked up the toast, nibbled a corner, and set the crunchy delicacy back onto the plate. “That’s delicious. Why don’t bread slots appear on your schematics?”

The flying bird-shaped toaster did an aerial somersault. “I have bread-slot sized interdimensional portals linked to an endless sourdough bread source. Those schematics represent my physical aspects. The clockworks. Gears. Corkscrew propeller. But my bread slots? Not merely holes in metal; I say again that they are interdimensional portals.”

Lita looked at Bright and raised an eyebrow. He grinned.

“What Archy is trying to say is that Kadmeion used a spell that links to a sourdough tree on Lah-dee-dah Island. When you ask Archy for toast, the spell fetches a fresh slice from the tree. The minor demon powering our heroic toaster crisps the bread inside of the bird’s belly. The spell opens the hidden bread slots and ejects your toast. Hold a plate about an arms-length away from Archy to catch the toast.”

“That makes sense.” Lita turned to the hovering toaster. “Call your bread slots whatever you wish, even though your explanation is not quite clockpunk magical science.”

Archy pirouetted on an outstretched wing and ejected another toast slice at Bright. The nimble elf-kind caught it, set the crusty confection next to the first slice, and used his napkin to wipe the butter off his fingers.

“I wrote a song for you,” Archy said. “May I sing it to you, Madam Lita?”

“Please call me Lita. I’d love to hear your song.”

Archy started a waltz tempo using his distinctive whir-click-click. After two introductory bars, the Archytas minor demon began his song in the key of G. [Lita’s Note: See the sidebar for the lyrics.] 

At the start of the second verse, Sir Bright stood and asked Lita to waltz with him. They had the flying heroic toaster repeat the song many times while they danced to Archy’s whir-click-click clockworks sounds. They spun about and talked at length about clockpunk magic. Lita and the elf-kind magician waltzed until the rain stopped, then it was time for her to go.

Next Time: Bestiarum Vocabulum: Fabulist

Then After That: A Job for Archy