The Capital of Impossible Architecture (And Reasonable Lunch Prices)

Planning an infiltration of the stronghold of an old villain, Mia found, required a heck of more paperwork than movies suggested. It wasn't sneaking in under darkness of night—it was forms, equipment rescheduling, and a hair-on-fire amount of red tape.

"Herculean last words registration," stated a clerk who wore the title of "Administrative Liaison for Hazardous Magical Enterprises," extending another form. "In the event the mission does not succeed, future bards need precise information for their ballads."

"You want me to plan my dying words in advance?" Mia stared at the form in awe.

"For record purposes."

"What if I fail to die heroically? What if I trip and save the world by accident?"

The clerk looked genuinely upset. "We. don't have a form for that."

"I'll improvise," Mia said, returning the blank form.

Three hours passed before they ran to the war room of the palace, where Kael studied maps with the scouts and researchers of the kingdom.

"Tell me you found something useful," Mia said, drinking actual coffee—magical coffee beans from a faraway kingdom.

"Good news and bad news," announced Captain Reis, head scout. "We've found ways around the big defenses."

"And the bad news?"

"They're completely suicidal."

Captain Reis spread a map covered in red X's. "The Blighted Wastes are poisonous. The air will kill you, the water is toxic, and the wildlife would like to eat your soul."

"Charming. What about magical protection?"

"Six hours, maybe," replied the court wizard Magister Aldric. "Beyond that, even magical shielding loses its effect."

Mia drew out routes. "How many days to reach the fortress?"

"At least two."

"So we need protection twice the length you can organize." She looked around the room. "What about non-magical defense?"

Aldric looked perplexed. "I don't get it."

"Where I come from, we protect individuals against poison without magic. Sealed suits, air cleaners."

"You'd like to construct. air-purifying armor?"

"Something like that. Do you have engineers? Clockwork specialists?"

One hour later, Mia was seated in Master Inventor Celia's workshop—a magical mad scientist's lair with clockwork birds flying overhead, mechanical flowers, and a self-stirring cauldron of hot chocolate.

"Interesting," Celia said, examining Mia's drawings. "A suit of independent air supply that keeps magical corruption out?"

"Is it possible?"

"Crystal purifiers for cleanup, clockwork for ventilation, magical emergency backup." Celia began sketching out adjustments. "It won't be comfortable or nice, but it should function."

"How long to construct?"

"For a tested prototype?" Six months."

Mia's heart sank. "We don't have—"

"But for an entirely untested, potentially lethal experimental model?" Celia grinned. "Give me till nightfall tomorrow."

"That would kill me."

"So would the poisonous air. At least this way you die in something revolutionary."

While Celia labored, Mia looked up everything about Shadowhold. The fortress was even more unachievable than the crystal viewing had suggested.

"It's not standard construction," Aldric said, showing magical scans. "The entire building is partially outside of reality. Some of the spires are bigger on the inside than the outside, walls occupy multiple dimensions, and the throne room occupies a time bubble moving at varying rates."

"Overwhelming. Also completely mad."

"Older evil sorceresses don't concern themselves with physics."

"What about my control theory? Discover anything like that?"

"Perhaps." Aldric shifted the scrying, showing a cross-section of the fortress depths. "There's a chamber our magic can't reach. All the fortress's magical power emanates from there."

"So that's our objective."

"Your objective. The chamber is shielded by spells that kill anyone with any meaningful magical resonance. Only someone with essentially no magical resonance could make it near it."

Mia stared at him. "My complete lack of training is advantageous?"

"Your magical signature is so weak the defenses might not even register you as a threat."

"Should I be offended or relieved?"

"Both," Kael said, coming in with supplies. "I've arranged a support unit to escort you to the border of the wasteland. After that, you're on your own."

"You're not going with me?"

Kael shook his head. "Those wards would kill me before I could even approach. This is something you alone can do."

The reality hit her. She'd been so focused on plotting that she hadn't even actually considered entering an ancient evil's fortress alone with no one to have her back.

"You don't have to do this," Kael said gently, noting her paleness. "We can find another way."

"No, we can't. This plan has the best chance of succeeding. And to be honest? Sneaking past defenses is more appealing than breaking through them."

"You're sure?"

"I'm shaking in my boots. But I'm sure."

That night, Mia roamed her guest room, working out plans while struggling with how much her life had altered. A week ago, her biggest worry was paying rent. Now she was infiltrating an evil fortress to save a kingdom.

The strangest part was how right it seemed. Not at ease—she was still afraid—but right in a sense her old life never was. She was accomplishing something good, using skills she'd never known she possessed, with people who had faith in her.

A soft tap interrupted her trance. "Come in."

Kael entered with tea and cookies. "Thought you might be hungry. And too nervous to sleep."

"Both," she accepted the tea gratefully. "These are good."

"Elena's recipe. She insisted that I bring them."

They crunched silently, cookies and magic city lights beyond.

"May I ask you a question?" Mia finally asked.

"Certainly."

"Why aren't you trying to talk me out of it? We've only known each other a week, and I'm going to do something that might kill me."

Kael stopped. "Have you any idea what I was doing before I met you?"

"Guardian things?"

"Following set paths mapped out fifty years previously, tramping through villages with not a real problem in sight, filling in reports that nobody ever looked at." He set his tea down. "I became a Guardian to protect people, to assist. But I'd gotten so used to following procedures that I'd forgotten why I was protecting them from."

"Presently?"

"Now I'm watching a person who has been here six days figure things out that people who have lived here their whole lives could never. You're not just thinking outside the box—you're showing us that there is no box."

Mia smiled, warmth not from the tea. "I'm not brave. I'm just too stubborn to quit when things don't add up."

"Same thing, really."

After Kael had left, Mia gazed up at the enchanted stars on the ceiling, reclining in her impossibly comfortable bed. Tomorrow she'd don a new, untested suit, slog through venomous wasteland, and infiltrate a reality-altering fortress.

She should be scared. She was, but she was also more pumped than she'd been in years. Whatever tomorrow held, it wouldn't be boring.

The Jeweled Blade pulsed quietly on the nightstand, sleeping with dreams of the road ahead.