'That was never a turret!'
The exit to Hox was not a deep Door; the slight rise being all that stood between the associates and their goal. Instead, the exit was a wide mouth at the base of a cliff. From where he stood, Adrian could see the slope down into the valley, the tent villages that had sprung up in the grass and the great congress building that surveyed the countryside.
'Maybe “turretial” means something different in the old language,' said Dastardly, whose memory was grey in this area.
'That is a tower,' Adrian continued in amazement, 'and what's more is that it looks clockwork.'
The building itself was eight stories high, rising out of the uneven ground in the middle of the valley like it was giving the whole place a rude gesture. Gears that made it glinted in the moonlight. Behind it the sky was at its darkest, the fading into the barest glimpse of day back to the east.
'There's something else up there,' said Plen, pointing at the very top. 'An oval shape.'
'The King's tower looks somewhat like that,' said Adrian. 'The architects of the Clockwork City and this Turretial were certainly one and the same.' The knight unconsciously dipped his hand into the satchel to check that the blue imprints were still there.
'That would part way explain how Siy can save the city. I want to know why he's called Congress.' Dastardly then shot off down the incline.
'Wait!' Plen T. ran after him. 'You don't know how to get to the congress room!'
The freelancer slowed his pace as he approached the makeshift communities near the base of the tower. Though some camp fires were still smouldering, throughout the camps early risers were lighting torches. The gnome and the knight caught up when he'd wandered into the apparent centre.
'Everyone has split off into groups,' said Plen. 'I think we should keep moving before we wake them.'
Far to their right there was a patch of ogres sleeping under the stars, and to their left was a very regal looking patch of southern-men with six poster, rainbow coloured tents. Behind them was a much less ornate group of people whose tents were whatever they could scrounge, those from the Clockwork City.
'There are people here from all over the world!' Dastardly said. 'Every race, every country.' He looked ahead where a miniature jungle had spread up, indicating the presence of sprites.
'Almost all the countries.' said Adrian. 'I see no jotunn, no plainsmen, no sha–'
'Would you two stop gawping?' Plen said. 'I'm taking you up the Turretial now or never.'
The two humans followed the gnome to the tower at the bottom of the slope. The foundations were built deep into the earth and the ground floor entry had long been filled with composting debris.
'Looks like the last person out left the door open, aha,' said Plen. 'Come on, I haven't got all day.'
Instead of stairs there was an elevator, a clockwork one that Plen operated with deceptive ease. Dastardly reluctantly got inside, muttering, 'it wasn't my fault to begin with.'
The device clinkered its way up the Turretial, passing through each level that held, among other things, a row of bookcases, eight cook pots and on the fifth floor some boxes that a pessimistic adventurer could have mistaken for coffins.
The elevator stopped on the seventh and went no farther. Dastardly stepped onto the cog-shaped floor, wavered a bit and crouched low in case the entire structure gave way. Adrian boldly strode to a gap in the cog-shaped walls. At this height the Pan was the horizon, with a golden wedge of sunlight cautiously edging over it.
'Oh wow,' said Plen. He rushed to the knight's side. On the outer edge of the tower was a wide staircase that circled to the top floor, and moored to the outside railing was an airship of gnomish design. It was almost all balloon, at least twelve yards long and covered in propellers.
'I've gotta check this out,' he said, climbing over the edge. 'It's specially modified, I'm sure the owner won't mind.'
'We'll meet you here on the way down,' said Adrian. The knight picked up Dastardly and they ascended to the final floor, each step comprised of a cog layered on top of the last one. At the top of the stairs was an airy room with a ring of chairs, or maybe thrones, and a podium that held some objects that looked like those Adrian had in his satchel. A nasal voice rang through the hollow space.
'Welcome, Sir Adrian. Thank you for so promptly bringing the artefacts.'
A rat face poked around the podium.
'Siy is a kobom?' said Dastardly.
Adrian's face bunched up. 'You can only hear someone's voice with the communication stones.'
Siy stepped out to greet them. 'Sir Adrian and, ah, is it Cowardly Medieval?'
'Dastardly,' said the freelancer.
'Of course. How is Helen?' Siy said.
Now Dastardly's face bunched up. 'No one could know about that.'
'Well, Mr Medieval, I know a lot of things that “no one could know about”. For instance, your acquaintance on my airship will probably steal it within the hour. That's alright, I don't need it any more.'
Dawn more or less broke, the sun finally spreading into the sky.
Adrian quietly handed Siy the two imprints.
'This is going to be a very good day,' said the kobom. 'Before I set it all in motion, would you like to hear a story?'
'What sort of story?' said Adrian.
Dastardly muttered under his breath again, 'no one could know about her.'
'History!' said Siy. 'It took me years, but I've pieced it together. I had to find the ruins in the desert, the gnome museum... I also had to pay quite a lot of money for the Shard, the owner didn't truly know what he possessed.'
'What do you mean?'
'Take a seat.' Siy jumped and clicked his feet together excitedly. 'Let me tell you about the visitor from far away and the formation of Congress!'
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