Free The Mask And The Master (Mechanized Wizardry Book 2) by Ben Rovik Page A

working on different subjects?  Well, the Invocation and Illustration would be the same, so it would be just a matter of taking the new subject’s name and punching out one new pair of disks for the Enunciation.  So assuming that spells are transferrable that way, any time someone requests a spell that’s in our repertoire, we’re talking, pessimistically, two hours from when the client comes to when the spell box shuts up.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Elia said.  “We just keep a library of disks on hand for common spells, and work in the names of each new client as needed.  Magic for the masses!”
    Lundin wobbled his hand sideways in the air.  “It’s a decent model; but, eventually, we’ve got to make the process slicker.  We’ll need a faster way to expand our library and create spells on demand.  If we’re trying to create a viable alternative to the flesh-and-blood sorcerer, we simply can’t afford to have our process be less effective, efficient, or convenient than it would be for people to pay a visit to the witch doctor down the street.  Stars and Spheres, you people don’t have to raise your hands,” he blurted out as Willl with three L’s held his hand tentatively above his shoulder.  “What is it?”
    “Is that what we’re trying to do?”
    Lundin frowned.  “Hmm?”
    “I thought we were going to fix magic.  Does that mean creating ‘a viable alternative to the flesh-and-blood sorcerer?’”
    They were all looking at him; Martext with his aloof receptiveness, Willl with three L’s with bewilderment, Elia with anticipation, and Dame Miri—the brilliant, beautiful, battle-scarred hero of Delia—watching him with real curiosity.  All four of them waiting for his answer.  No, not just his answer; his vision.  His throat went suddenly dry.  Yes, they’d all been sharing ideas and trading the discussion for the past several minutes; but in this room, he was the leader.  And this was the kind of high-concept leader moment Dame Dionne had made him terrified of.
    Just be honest and answer the question.  Are we here to compete with human wizards?
    There was only one answer.  “Yes,” he said.
    “How exciting!” Elia said, her brown eyes flashing.  “I love a little competition!”
    We’ll see if those flesh-and-blood wizards feel the same way , he thought, smiling uneasily as his team turned to each other in earnest discussion.
     

Chapter Seven
    Going Public
     
     
     
    “Absolutely appalling—”
    “Do you expect us—”
    “—pitiful—”
    “—insult to the Crown—”
    “—waste of time—”
    “Spheres, Horace,” Dame Miri hissed in Lundin’s ear, “Say something before they start throwing knives.”
    Lundin swallowed, taking a trembling step forwards to the center of the stage.  He leaned against the spell box for stability, feeling the smoothness of its freshly polished case.  His fingers brushed against the blue felt hat glued to the top face, its cone pointing up and back at a jaunty angle.  The clouds shifted far overhead, and a shaft of sunlight through one of the half-dozen skylights struck Lundin in the eye.  He squinted, and the agitated shapes in the audience became that much more sinister to his light-blind eyes.
    The Presentation Room was designed to be a soothing space; for all the good that’s doing now .  Natural light was playing softly off the golden wood of the stage, beaming down from the skylights Civics seemed so fond of.  The vaulted ceilings invoked the grandeur of a Spheric cathedral, with welcoming curves instead of hard-edged formality.  Nearly forty comfortable chairs (only about half of them filled today) spread back from the stage in raked rows, cushioned in plush burgundy fabric. The acoustics were marvelous for speakers on the stage, so Lundin wouldn’t have any trouble making his voice heard over the uproar.
    That is, as soon as I figure out what to say...
    He raised both hands high, palms up.  The din subsided a