Metamorphoses
Emily Short
cover art elements female protagonist IF Competition 2000 IFComp Game metaphysics mimesis multiple endings multiple solutions mythopoeic parser physical simulation platonic solids simulationist puzzles systematic puzzles telescopic descriptions transformation translation available walkthrough Xyzzy Awards 2000 XYZZY Best Writing
You wake to stillness. The hammering, banging, and shouting that kept you awake half the night are gone. The air is cold, and something smells burnt. Your master's experiments must be finished, but with what result?
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You wake to stillness. The hammering, banging, and shouting that kept you awake half the night are gone. The air is cold, and something smells burnt. Your master's experiments must be finished, but with what result?

Something hesitates on the edge of your consciousness, the memory of unquiet dreams...
Then you see. You have been sent, again. The taste of ash is on your lips, the grit in your eyes. And you blink...

A formless place, such as you have often seen before; where dreams end and tasks begin. The floor is uneven, cupped like the palm of your master's hand. The walls shimmer with the artifice of your sending.

A loose rock lies near your foot.
About yourself
You look as you always do; feel as ever. A bit weighted, a bit weary.

A voice, remembered: "Find the elements. Bring them to me."
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a brown dress (being worn)
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You examine the ring
A plain metal band, without adornment, that you have been accustomed to wear on your right hand. It is the only thing of value you possess.
You look at the workbox
The wooden box in which you keep small tools for your work around the house.
You look at the dress
The coarse dress that you wear to do chores around the house -- and your tasks in other realms, as well.
You examine the slippers
Tattered by too many errands of this kind. But at least they still fit.
You take the rock
Taken.
You examine the stone
A lumpy rock.
You examine the walls
The faint shimmer is fading even as you look. It is only with averted vision, from the corners of your eyes, that you can still make out the shapes of lines and letters.
You read the wall
(the walls)
They fade when you look at them straight-on.
You look around
A formless place, such as you have often seen before; where dreams end and tasks begin. The floor is uneven, cupped like the palm of your master's hand. The walls dull in your sight.
You examine floor
The floor is roughly hollowed.
You go to the north
The first step is more of the will than of the body: from here there is only out.
Go outside
The proximate walls fade away, leaving you in a much larger space.

A narrow ledge of solid rock at the southern end of a great cavern. Beyond it lies a body of water so flat, so black and tranquil, that it might be a surface of polished obsidian.

Embedded in the wall, a mirror reflects your movements: an odd smoothness in the unshaped stone.

A heavy bronze bell hangs from a stand.
You examine mirror
A flat round mirror, which reflects you dimly in its face. Around the edge runs the series of signs that fix an earthly object in an unearthly world: your master put this here for your return.
You examine the water
Preternaturally smooth and flat.
You fill the box with the water
That's hardly portable.

I only understood you as far as wanting to fill the workbox.
You put the box in lake
Anything you dropped in there, you would be unable to retrieve.
Look around
A narrow ledge of solid rock at the southern end of a great cavern. Beyond it lies a body of water so flat, so black and tranquil, that it might be a surface of polished obsidian.

Embedded in the wall, a mirror reflects your movements: an odd smoothness in the unshaped stone.

A heavy bronze bell hangs from a stand.
You examine the bell
A very ancient bronze bell, covered with a curious pattern. It is mounted on a stand; there is no clapper within.
You hit the bell
You slap ineffectually at the bell.
You hit the bell with the rock
The peal is deep and resonant; the surface of the lake stands up in ripples; the darkness grows (if that is possible) more dark. Even when the sound has died and the water stilled, you find yourself waiting.
You wait
Time passes.

There is a distant splash; a long silence; a repetition.
You wait
Time passes.

A dark shape distinguishes itself from the other darkness on the water: a small gondola without passengers, a single gondolier bent at his pole. It is progressing towards you.
You wait
Time passes.

The gondola draws up against the ledge, its flank scraping stone. The gondolier awaits.
You examine the gondola
Black and smooth as the surface of the water itself, but ornamented here and there with tiny gilt images -- mostly human figures, with mute faces and outstretched hands.
You look at the gondolier
Robed and hooded in heavy black cloth, the face obscured.

The gondolier lifts his head and sighs softly.
You enter the gondola
The gondolier watches impassively as you clamber in.

The gondolier pushes away from the ledge and propels the gondola through the water with remarkable speed. Soon you cannot see the walls of the cavern, only the ghostly shafts of stalactites, present and then swiftly gone. It seems an eternity before you land again.
You look
You step out onto solid ground.

Against the rough north wall of the cavern lies a moon-shaped landing of white stone, with a pair of shallow steps down to the glass-black surface of the lake. A Moorish archway leads away to the north.

The only furniture is an ornate metal pole, branching at the top, with dozens of bells hung from the branches.

A gondola waits nearby, the gondolier leaning against his pole.

The gondolier lifts his head and sighs softly.
You examine the bells
Tiny silver bells, each with its tongue.

The gondolier, apparently weary of the wait, pushes off from the ledge and is quickly merged again with the darkness.
You examine the archway
Outlined in white stone and decorated with a geometric pattern.
You look at the pattern
Predominantly made of triangular or near-triangular figures, interlocked, and carved deeply into the stone.
You take the bell
That's hardly portable.
Go north
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

In the north wall is a closed door, covered with a silver substance.

Fallen from one of these strands, but intact, is a large magnifying-lens.
You look at substance
Not quite shiny enough to act as a mirror. It is significantly taller than you are, narrow, with a keyhole exactly in the middle.
You take the lens
Taken.
You look at the lens
A powerful lens about the size of your open palm, with a rim of chased bronze.
You examine the light
It's hard to tell, from here, whether you are seeing sunlight or some other kind. You see daylight rarely in your travels; these are isolated places, self-contained.

But the light is too bright too look at long, whether it falls through glass or empty air; it carries no heat.
You examine the keyhole
A modestly-sized keyhole, surrounded by an undecorated plate of silver metal.
You look at the crystal
Strings of faceted crystals, like a giantess' necklace; here and there a large prism, pendant; shards of stained glass, linked with bits of chain. The rainbows color your skin.
You examine the glass
(the magnifying glass)
A powerful lens about the size of your open palm, with a rim of chased bronze.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a magnifying glass
a rock
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a brown dress (being worn)
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You turn the crystals
You are unable to.
You look at the keyhole through the lens
It looks much as it did before, but larger. The magnification does not help you see any better what lies on the other side.
You go to the west
A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You look at the mouse
He seems peaceful and ponderous, as though enlargement has banished all his fears and replaced them with a blissful serenity.
You look at the elephant
There's a look almost beseeching in his grave eyes, as though he lived to old age at a proper size, and then only at the end was reduced to this sad state.
You examine the cage
They look like something out of a pasha's pleasure garden: ornate in shape and workmanship, but still strong enough to withstand considerable battering, even though the animals inside are stuffed.
You examine the hourglass
Made of a clear material (glass? perhaps, perhaps not), large at one end and smaller at the other, and mounted on a sort of swivel on the wall so that it can be turned over at will. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You turn it
You rotate the contraption on the wall so that the larger end is uppermost.
Look around
You put the magnifying glass into the contraption; improbably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end smaller than it was when it went in.

On close inspection, it seems that the mechanisms for opening the cages are stuck fast; no key will ever work in them again.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the larger end is uppermost.
You get the glass
You already have that.
You go east
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

In the north wall is a closed door, covered with a silver substance.
You go to the east
An orchard of glass trees: trunks slender and orderly as the columns of the Alhambra, foliage iridescent and frail. No wind stirs, and yet, from time to time, a leaf casts free of its branch and drifts to the ground. The whole floor of the cavern is deep with them.

At the center of this is a clearing where a monstrous furnace stands -- shaped like a coiled dragon.
You examine furnace
A huge furnace in the shape of a dragon. The dragon's belly contains the fire, and in this portion of the contraption is a space in which you might put something to heat. The dragon's ear is a sort of dial; the dragon's eye is a push-button.
You get the leaf
You take one of the glass leaves, but it is so fragile that even the slightest handling destroys it.
You examine the trees
Elegant, bloodless, utterly inorganic. On inspection, the bark proves to be covered with tiny, stylized incisions; the branches fork in matched, symmetrical pairs.

Hanging from one of the trees is an almost perfectly round apple, made of a reddish metal.
You look at the floor
Layers on layers of fragile detritus.
You look at the apple
An apple almost perfectly round, made of a ruddy metal.
You get the apple
You pluck the metal fruit from its glassy stem. It rattles a little, as though there were something inside.
You shake the apple
It rattles musically.
You eat the apple
That would probably be a most unrewarding experience.
You break it
That's unlikely to have much effect.
You drop the apple
Dropped.
You get the apple
It rattles a little, as though there were something inside.
You put the apple in the furnace
You put the round apple into the furnace.
You examine the dial
The dial can be set to anything from 1 to 5. It currently stands at 3. The label under this dial reads "Change to".
You look at the button
The button is made of jade and is round and bright.
You turn the dial to 1
You turn the dial to 1.
You look at the dial
The dial can be set to anything from 1 to 5. It currently stands at 1. The label under this dial reads "Change to".
You press button
The graininess of wood covers the surface of the round apple.
You turn the dial to 2
You turn the dial to 2.
You press the button
The surface of the round apple becomes quickly rough and speckled.
You turn the dial to 3
You turn the dial to 3.
You press the button
The round apple grows gradually clear from the outside in, until it can be seen through entirely.
You examine the apple
A pale, iridescent red bauble, with only the faintest hint of an indent where the stem once went.
You look in the apple
In the round apple is a delicate key.
You turn the dial to 4
You turn the dial to 4.
You turn the dial to 5
You turn the dial to 5.
You examine the apple
A round pink sack.
You break the apple
With your bare hands? That could be uncomfortable.
You break the apple with the rock
You shatter the round apple into a million useless shards. In the process, you spill out a delicate key.
You get the key
Taken.
You examine the key
A delicate key, tinted indigo, made of glass. The teeth are quite precisely filed.
You put the key in furnace
You put the delicate key into the furnace.
You press the button
The surface of the delicate key grows lustrous with a metallic sheen.
You examine the dial
The dial can be set to anything from 1 to 5. It currently stands at 4. The label under this dial reads "Change to".
You examine the key
A delicate key of silvery metal, with precisely-cut teeth.
You unlock door
(with the delicate key)
The key seems as though it would go in the lock, but it is slightly too small.
You go west
A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the larger end is uppermost.
Turn hourglass
You rotate the contraption on the wall so that the smaller end is uppermost.
You put the key in the hourglass
You put the delicate key into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
You unlock door
(with the delicate key)
You unlock the silvered door and push it open.
You go north
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A wooden tube lies forgotten on the floor.
You ask the galatea about herself
You can only do that to something animate.
You examine the statue
Delicately proportioned and carved of white marble, with a small, aristocratic head and supple limbs. She is in the act of pulling up a mantle around herself with one hand; with the other hand, she is half-leaning on a large concave mirror.
You look at tube
A short wooden tube, open at each end. There seems to be a vellum scroll tightly rolled within.
You get the scroll
You can't manage to dislodge the vellum with your fingers: the tube is too narrow for easy negotiation.
Go south
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a tube
a vellum scroll
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a magnifying glass (shrunken)
a rock
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a brown dress (being worn)
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You go to the west
A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You put the tube in the hourglass
You put the tube into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
You examine tube
A tube made of wood, but now more like a length of pipe. There seems to be a vellum scroll tightly rolled within.
You get scroll from the tube
Removed.
You read the scroll
A single sheet torn from a much larger volume. Front and back are covered with diagrams of optical devices: silvered mirrors both flat and concave; a convex lens; a round ball of glass. Lines represent the passage of light, bounced or bent. Your master has just such papers at home, marked with the emblem of the Society of the Lynx.

Considerable text accompanies these drawings, but since it is neither in Latin nor the vernacular, you cannot guess the sense of it. There is, however, a marginal note, in red letters, that appears to be in Latin. This is in a crabbed hand and too small to read.
You read the latin with the lens
(in the contraption)
You discover nothing of interest in the contraption.
You look at the note through the glass
With the aid of the magnifying glass, you're able to make out what is written:

Front and back are covered with diagrams of optical devices: silvered mirrors both flat and concave; a convex lens; a round ball of glass. Lines represent the passage of light, bounced or bent. Your master has just such papers at home, marked with the emblem of the Society of the Lynx.

Considerable text accompanies these drawings, but since it is neither in Latin nor the vernacular, you cannot guess the sense of it. There is, however, a marginal note, in red letters, that appears to be in Latin:

Beyond the four elements there is a fifth; as the others are to the body so is the fifth to the soul. Possessing it, one is set free.
The paths of light lie open, the swiftness of thought, the bending, the division, and the reflection.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a vellum scroll
a tube (enlarged)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a magnifying glass (shrunken)
a rock
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a brown dress (being worn)
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You look around
A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
Lift cage
What do you want to lift the filigreed cages with?
You take the cage
They're hardly portable.
You examine the cage
They look like something out of a pasha's pleasure garden: ornate in shape and workmanship, but still strong enough to withstand considerable battering, even though the animals inside are stuffed.
Xyzzy
There have been other worlds in your experience that a few well-placed words could bend or change. But this place seems not responsive to such control.
You open cage
On close inspection, it seems that the mechanisms for opening the cages are stuck fast; no key will ever work in them again.
You go north
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.
You examine the mantle
It drapes around the lower half of her body and puddles at her feet; with her left hand she is raising it to her shoulder, but at the moment it leaves her upper torso bare.
You examine the mirror
A sunken round mirror, which reflects (but upside down and changed) yourself, and your possessions, and all the rest of the room.
You touch the mirror
You reach out and touch the mirror, and your strange double returns the gesture. Your fingers feel numb and cold.
Go west
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.
You look at the paintings
Which do you mean, the New World, the native village, the ocean, the trade ships, the wrecks or the pirate ships?
You examine new World
A thin strip of coastline on the horizon, showing a dense growth of strange trees, and in a few places mountains rising out of the surrounding land. A single plume of smoke rises from this shore, as though to indicate that the land is inhabited, though only just.

Some of the picture is too tiny for you to make out with the naked eye.

("I don't know what you may find -- you'll have to look closely at everything...")
You look at new World through the lens
Closer inspection shows a mad variety there: native people standing under the trees, as naked and innocent as Adam and Eve; an abundance of unfamiliar fruits and crops growing, half-tended, in the shadow of the primeval trees; precious minerals and clusters of gems lying on the surface of the ground, ready for the taking.
You examine the native village
Too small for you to see without help.
You look at the native village through the lens
The village, with its small houses arranged in a circle around a central fire, the outlying fields of crops, the peculiarly populous forests, all are done in a style familiar from etchings. Stilted figures holding fruits and grains look out, solemnly smiling, advertising the carefree richness in which they live.
You look at ocean through the lens
The image swims before you, and you see down, under the surface, to the depths where the tentacled creatures live among the bones of sailors and the wrecks of ships.
You look at the wrecks through the lens
You search the faces of the dead minutely, but do not see the one you know. Perhaps he has already gone to coral and bone.
You look at the trade ships through the lens
They struggle, deeply loaded, against an angry sea.
You look at the ships through the lens
Which do you mean, the trade ships, the wrecks or the pirate ships?
Pirate
You find yourself staring into the swarthy face of a Spanish buccaneer. He has a thick black growth of beard, and a monkey clings to his shoulder.

(Time here does not correspond to time outside; you have all the leisure you like to look at the strange world.)
You look at the pirate through the lens
You find yourself staring into the swarthy face of a Spanish buccaneer. He has a thick black growth of beard, and a monkey clings to his shoulder.
Pray
Silence. Whether you are heard or not is another question.
Down
You have reached the lowest extent of the stair, and stand on what might best be described as a small balcony. The surface of the water is still some distance below you.

Perhaps to deal with predicaments such as that in which you now find yourself, a pulley mechanism has been installed at this level.
You examine the pulley
A mossy chain hangs from the pulley: one side descends into the water below, while the other ends in a hook just at a reachable level.
There is currently nothing on the hook.
You descend
The only exit is the spiral stair, by which you can emerge from the cistern.
East
On the curving walls are painted the village and the nearby countryside; beyond those are impossibly distant places (labelled for your better instruction): Paris, spired and shimmering; southward Rome; a misty London in the north.

The floor is paved with large stones, and one of these is partly budged from its position.
You examine the stone
(the large paving stone)
About two feet on a side and many inches thick: it is hard to guess what force might have budged it in the first place.
You examine the Paris
Paris, narrow streets with narrow houses crowded; the Seine, and the Pont Neuf; trees in the preserve of the King. There's a great deal of detail that you can't quite make out.
You look at the paris through the lens
Paris, narrow streets with narrow houses crowded; the Seine, and the Pont Neuf; trees in the preserve of the King. In the windows of the palaces, fine ladies stand looking out, gowned in extravagant fashion, breaking their fathers and husbands.

In the dungeons prisoners twist and burn. Beads of sweat run down their faces. Their eyes are full of the fever of hell. Notre-Dame sings, aspiring to God.
You look at London through the lens
The magnifying glass shows you details you'd missed before. You see the criers in the streets, selling horses and books, toys and flowers, bread and fruit, their mouths open silently.

You see the theaters, crowded with spectators; the stage, and the actors on it; their false swordplay and their disguising beards. The breast of one has come askew, since God did not give it to him to be a woman by nature.

You see the diviner, peering into a glass where demons teem.

And at the very center stands the Queen, great woman in a little world.
You look at the rome through the lens
You squint at the image of Rome through the glass, and it unfolds before you:

There is the Tiber, winding, and every bridge that crosses it, and every peddler selling trinkets on those bridges. The birds that flew in augury, circling still on the hills. The beasts of burden, laden with food from the fields...
You take the stone
(the large paving stone)
It's much too big to lift.
You move the stone
(the large paving stone)
You lack the strength to move it with your bare hands.
You look under the stone
(the large paving stone)
All you can tell is that there is some considerable space beneath the stone.
Go north
Stairs lead up, and doorways open south, east and west.
Up
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.
You examine the statue
Naked except for the sandals laced around his ankles, carrying in one hand a sturdy key. His face is more vigorous than beautiful; his hair is arranged around his head in a disorderly array of curls. He is looking up from under a strong brow, his gaze bent on something above you.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You ascend
Up there, cogs and wheels are moving at great speed. You don't dare try to climb up.
You examine the key
(the delicate key)
A delicate key of silvery metal, with precisely-cut teeth.

At the moment, the delicate key is a somewhat enlarged version of itself.
You look at the statue's key
A sturdy key of golden metal, with precisely-cut teeth.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You take the statue
That's hardly portable.
You take the statue's key
You reach to take the key, but it sears you: you aren't ready for it yet. There are other things you must do. You draw back, faintly shamed.
You put the tube in the dragon
You put the tube into the furnace.
You examine the dial
The dial can be set to anything from 1 to 5. It currently stands at 4. The label under this dial reads "Change to".
You pry the stone with the tube
(the large paving stone with the tube)
The tube is too small to do that task effectively.
W,S,W
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
E,N,E
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

On the curving walls are painted the village and the nearby countryside; beyond those are impossibly distant places (labelled for your better instruction): Paris, spired and shimmering; southward Rome; a misty London in the north.

The floor is paved with large stones, and one of these is partly budged from its position.
You pry the stone with the tube
(the large paving stone with the tube)
You manage to pry up the stone, exposing a ladder down into the gap beneath.

If only your master were here to observe that bit of cleverness. He never asks how you achieve your ends.
Go downwards
No light penetrates the sullen air; if you did not keep your hand on it, even the ladder upward would soon be lost to you. It is only by touch that you are able to discern what surrounds you.
Smell
It smells rich and damp, like freshly turned earth.
You look at your surroundings
Anything you do, you will have to do by touch.
You touch the wall
(the walls)
You detect nothing extraordinary.
You touch the ladder
It feels reassuringly solid.
You touch myself
Substantial as ever.
You jump
You jump a few times.
You touch the floor
Your hand closes around something cubical, lying in the center of the floor.
You touch the floor
And you're back in that place, where he sent you the first time. Groping hand and foot in a stifling blackness, no light anywhere. ("I can't promise you help, but remember: rely on your wits. And whatever you do, keep looking.")

Whispering it to yourself in the close corridors, hearing the corridors whisper it back again. Keep looking.

And so you crawl on, sometimes falling unexpectedly, sometimes getting stuck; sometimes finding yourself far down a passage without outlet, having to crawl backwards again, start over.

Even when you find what you seek -- a deep pool of matter in its rawness, chaos without shape -- you must make your way back again. There's no time here, no orientation, no measure. Only blind persistence can ever bring you home.
You touch the pool
Then the darkness is just darkness again.

(You grasp at air, startled. It's gone -- not in your hands after all -- unless...?

Something has changed. Something has certainly changed. But the possession is not of a physical sort.)
You feel yourself
Your body is still present.
Pray
Silence. Whether you are heard or not is another question.
You go upwards
The overwhelming darkness parts, and you emerge again into the ordinary air...

On the curving walls are painted the village and the nearby countryside; beyond those are impossibly distant places (labelled for your better instruction): Paris, spired and shimmering; southward Rome; a misty London in the north.

One of the large paving stones has been removed from its position, and a ladder descends into the dark gap beneath.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a vellum scroll
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a magnifying glass (shrunken)
a rock
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a brown dress (being worn)
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
About yourself
Some essential restlessness is gone from you; you tremble less than you used to; your hand, relaxed, remains still.

An upright triangle scars the back of your left hand, the symbol of earth.
Up
The door opens west.
Up
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You go to the west
You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase.
You put the lens in the light
It's too small to stay positioned in the slot.
You examine the staircase
The staircase is currently folded down, but there appears to be machinery for raising it. The accessible parts of this consist of a boiler full of water, an open oven beneath, and a brass button.

There is a slot in the side of the oven, of a shape to hold a circular object perhaps the size of your palm. Through this open space a beam of very bright light falls obliquely into the oven itself.
You go to the east
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
D,S,W
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You put the lens in the hourglass
You put the magnifying glass into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
E,N,U,W
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase.
You put the lens in the slot
The magnifying glass slides into the slot with a satisfying click, bringing the light into sharp focus inside the oven.
You look in the oven
The oven is empty.
You examine the staircase
The staircase is currently folded down, but there appears to be machinery for raising it. The accessible parts of this consist of a boiler full of water, an open oven beneath, and a brass button.

Mounted in a special slot in the side of the oven is a large magnifying glass, which focuses the light from above into a single blazing point inside the oven itself.
K button
Unlikely that would achieve anything.
Examine button
It is a fairly ordinary-seeming button.
You take yarn
Taken.
You wear the dress
You slip the rough cloth back over your head.
E,D,S,E
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

An orchard of glass trees: trunks slender and orderly as the columns of the Alhambra, foliage iridescent and frail. No wind stirs, and yet, from time to time, a leaf casts free of its branch and drifts to the ground. The whole floor of the cavern is deep with them.

At the center of this is a clearing where a monstrous furnace stands -- shaped like a coiled dragon.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a ball of yarn
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a vellum scroll
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a rock
a workbox
a needle
a brown dress (being worn)
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You take the dress
You already have that.
You put the dress in the furnace
You put the brown dress into the furnace.
You turn the dial to 3
You turn the dial to 3.
You turn the dial to 1
You turn the dial to 1.
You look at the dress
An effigy of your dress, executed in wood, with a fine detailing of folds and hems and even the grain of the original cloth.
W,N,U,W
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.

You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase.
You put the dress in the oven
Under the bright spot of the magnifying glass, the wood dress begins to smolder and then to burn. After a few minutes, the water boils. There is a hiss and clank from within the machine, and the button in front begins to glow.
You hit the button with the tube
Unlikely that would achieve anything.

The steam is recondensing in the boiler.
E,D,S,W
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You put tube in the hourglass
You put the tube into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end smaller than it was when it went in.
You ask E,  to go east
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

An orchard of glass trees: trunks slender and orderly as the columns of the Alhambra, foliage iridescent and frail. No wind stirs, and yet, from time to time, a leaf casts free of its branch and drifts to the ground. The whole floor of the cavern is deep with them.

At the center of this is a clearing where a monstrous furnace stands -- shaped like a coiled dragon.
You put tube in the furnace
You put the tube into the furnace.
You put the rock in the furnace
You put the rock into the furnace.
You ask W,  to go to the west
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the larger end is uppermost.
You put the burl in hourglass
You put the rough burl into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a rough burl (enlarged; originally a rock)
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a ball of yarn
a vellum scroll
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a needle
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
N,U,W
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase.
You put the burl in the oven
Under the bright spot of the magnifying glass, the rough burl begins to smolder and then to burn. After a few minutes, the water boils. There is a hiss and clank from within the machine, and the button in front begins to glow.
About yourself
Some essential restlessness is gone from you; you tremble less than you used to; your hand, relaxed, remains still.

An upright triangle scars the back of your left hand, the symbol of earth.
Up
All the time that you were climbing the stairs, you could barely look forward, so overwhelming was the light that came from this room; but now that you have arrived, you see that it too is lit from somewhere further on and far away.

A flawless metal tetrahedron lies nearby.
You look at the tetrahedron
A four-sided solid figure with triangular faces, made of a coppery metal. On the faces are inscribed all sorts of interlocked and writhing figures, of salamanders, and a phoenix in flight.
Shake tetrahedron
Nothing much results of this.
You take it
You reach for the tetrahedron.
Inventory
Flame licks over you, so fierce it seems you must die.

("Purification of the spirit," he mutters in your ear. "You'll survive. You'll survive." And of course you do; you always survive.)

When you get up again, autumn has arrived. Your legs are weaker than you remember. Your breath catches when you try to run. But you're able to undertake his other errands, in unworldly places.
You describe your surroundings
All the time that you were climbing the stairs, you could barely look forward, so overwhelming was the light that came from this room; but now that you have arrived, you see that it too is lit from somewhere further on and far away.
About you
To physical appearances not much different than before, but changed inside. Grief and anger, weariness and fury are at war in you.

Across the back of your left hand are scarred the symbols of fire and earth.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a ball of yarn
a vellum scroll
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a needle
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You put the yarn in the workbox
You put the ball of yarn into the workbox.
D,E,E
You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

A long, low room, naturally lit by small windows just beneath the ceiling. Down the center of the room runs a series of pedestals, and on each pedestal stands an automated creature of some sort -- a great clockwork bird; a chorus of glass frogs; a pair of human dancers eternally whirling on the cogged floor of their tiny ballroom.

Beside the door, and running down into the rock of the floor, is an enormous crank of Damascus steel.

On the wall there is an adjustable lever.

From the ceiling high above the second pedestal hangs a wooden octahedron.
You look at the octahedron
Burnt into the surface of the wood is an intricate design of herons and owls, goshawks, peacocks, sparrows, doves, every species of bird; bees; butterflies; the airy drift of clouds, and the shaft of the sun.
You examine the crank
The crank is two handspans long, attached to a long shaft which runs through a sort of socket into the floor. The entire mechanism has been thoroughly greased.
You ask W,  to go west
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase.
You ask E,  to go east
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

A long, low room, naturally lit by small windows just beneath the ceiling. Down the center of the room runs a series of pedestals, and on each pedestal stands an automated creature of some sort -- a great clockwork bird; a chorus of glass frogs; a pair of human dancers eternally whirling on the cogged floor of their tiny ballroom.

Beside the door, and running down into the rock of the floor, is an enormous crank of Damascus steel.

On the wall there is an adjustable lever.

From the ceiling high above the second pedestal hangs a wooden octahedron.
You examine the dancers
The dancers are especially fine. Their costume replicates an English mode of perhaps fifty years ago: the lady wears a skirt of beaten copper, pierced in designs, and around the gentleman's neck is a ruff of folded silver.

The effect of their hands and faces is less happy: all their skin is carved ivory, so that they look drawn, and even paler than ordinary English folk.
You take the skirt
That's fixed in place.
You examine the lever
The lever may be set to any of four positions, 0 through 3. At the moment it stands at 0.
You set lever to 1
You push the lever into the 1 position.
You pull the lever
It is fixed in place.
You turn the crank
It takes a good deal of effort to get the crank to turn, but once you have begun, you are able to keep it moving. The bird's wings unfold and flap magnificently, creating a draft in the long hallway, but it fails to get off the ground. One of the wings is missing material over the frame, it seems.
You examine the wing
The frame is an intricate construction of small metal rods, to which the leather of the wings is attached with clips. In one place, however, a piece is missing, leaving the clips empty and the wing incomplete.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a vellum scroll
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
W,D,S,W
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You put scroll in furnace
You put the vellum scroll into the furnace.
You turn the dial to five
You turn the dial to 5.
E,N,U,E
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

A long, low room, naturally lit by small windows just beneath the ceiling. Down the center of the room runs a series of pedestals, and on each pedestal stands an automated creature of some sort -- a great clockwork bird; a chorus of glass frogs; a pair of human dancers eternally whirling on the cogged floor of their tiny ballroom.

Beside the door, and running down into the rock of the floor, is an enormous crank of Damascus steel.

On the wall there is an adjustable lever.

From the ceiling high above the second pedestal hangs a wooden octahedron.
You turn the lever to 2
You push the lever into the 2 position.
You turn the crank
It takes a good deal of effort to get the crank to turn, but once you have begun, you are able to keep it moving. Under the surface of the pond, wheels of glass turn, causing the koi to swim in their rippled depth; as for the frogs themselves, they begin to sing, a tuneful croaking: brekkekekex, koax, koax.
You set the lever to 3
You push the lever into the 3 position.
You turn the crank
It takes a good deal of effort to get the crank to turn, but once you have begun, you are able to keep it moving. Cogs whir; the dancers meet, and bow, and then begin a graceful dance, all around the floor on which they stand.
You examine the dancers
The dancers are especially fine. Their costume replicates an English mode of perhaps fifty years ago: the lady wears a skirt of beaten copper, pierced in designs, and around the gentleman's neck is a ruff of folded silver.

The effect of their hands and faces is less happy: all their skin is carved ivory, so that they look drawn, and even paler than ordinary English folk.
You look at the clips
The frame is an intricate construction of small metal rods, to which the leather of the wings is attached with clips. In one place, however, a piece is missing, leaving the clips empty and the wing incomplete.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a vellum scroll
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ball of yarn
a needle
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
Thread needle
(first taking the needle)
There's nothing appropriate with which to do that.
You put the scroll on the bird
The cloth is far too small to fit across the gap in the frame; it would need to be considerably larger, though cloak-sized would certainly be excessive.
Thread needle with yarn
(first taking the ball of yarn)
The yarn is much too tangly to cooperate.
W,D,S,W
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the larger end is uppermost.
You put the scroll in the hourglass
You put the vellum scroll into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
E,N,U,E
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

A long, low room, naturally lit by small windows just beneath the ceiling. Down the center of the room runs a series of pedestals, and on each pedestal stands an automated creature of some sort -- a great clockwork bird; a chorus of glass frogs; a pair of human dancers eternally whirling on the cogged floor of their tiny ballroom.

Beside the door, and running down into the rock of the floor, is an enormous crank of Damascus steel.

On the wall there is an adjustable lever.

From the ceiling high above the second pedestal hangs a wooden octahedron.
You put the scroll on the wing
The cloth is too small to fit across the gap in the frame. Perhaps if it just a little larger...
W,D,S,W
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You put cloth in the hourglass
Which do you mean, the vellum scroll, the ball of yarn or the slippers?
You put the scroll on the wing
You carefully secure the sheet of cloth to the bird's wing.
You set lever to 1
You push the lever into the 1 position.
You turn the crank
It takes a good deal of effort to get the crank to turn, but once you have begun, you are able to keep it moving. The bird soars toward the ceiling and circles around the room, knocking the wooden octahedron to the floor. After a moment it resettles on its pedestal.
You take the octahedron
You pick up the octahedron...
Continue
You find yourself back on solid ground, only a little shaken.
Look around
A long, low room, naturally lit by small windows just beneath the ceiling. Down the center of the room runs a series of pedestals, and on each pedestal stands an automated creature of some sort -- a great clockwork bird; a chorus of glass frogs; a pair of human dancers eternally whirling on the cogged floor of their tiny ballroom.

Beside the door, and running down into the rock of the floor, is an enormous crank of Damascus steel.

On the wall there is an adjustable lever.
About you
To physical appearances a little faded, skin translucent, like candle wax. But it is the inward change you feel. Heavy with thought, great with griefs, all that is physical discarded but the toiling of the mind continuous and endless.

Across the back of your left hand are scarred the symbols of fire, earth, and air.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a ball of yarn
a needle
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ring (being worn)
some slippers (being worn)
You listen
It's quiet.
Go down
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.
You ask W,  to go downwards
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

You have reached the lowest extent of the stair, and stand on what might best be described as a small balcony. The surface of the water is still some distance below you.

Perhaps to deal with predicaments such as that in which you now find yourself, a pulley mechanism has been installed at this level.
You remove the slippers
You take off the slippers.
You examine the pulley
A mossy chain hangs from the pulley: one side descends into the water below, while the other ends in a hook just at a reachable level.
There is currently nothing on the hook.
You hang the slippers on the hook
You settle the slippers over the end of the hook, just as if you were hanging it on a peg at home. Nothing happens -- perhaps something heavier?
You wear the slippers
(first taking the slippers)
You put on the slippers.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
some slippers (being worn)
a ball of yarn
a needle
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ring (being worn)
Tie the yarn to the workbox
It's much too tangled.
You untangle the yarn
You are unable to do so.
U,E,S,E
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

An orchard of glass trees: trunks slender and orderly as the columns of the Alhambra, foliage iridescent and frail. No wind stirs, and yet, from time to time, a leaf casts free of its branch and drifts to the ground. The whole floor of the cavern is deep with them.

At the center of this is a clearing where a monstrous furnace stands -- shaped like a coiled dragon.
You put the slippers in the furnace
(first taking them off)

You take off the slippers.
You put the slippers into the furnace.
You turn the dial to two
You turn the dial to 2.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
some slippers (made of glass)
a ball of yarn
a needle
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ring (being worn)
You wear the slippers
It's uncomfortable putting on the slippers in this form, and you momentarily wonder whether your feet are small enough. But you do achieve the task at hand.
You put the slippers in the furnace
You put the slippers into the furnace.
You turn the dial to 2
You turn the dial to 2.
You go down
There is an exit east, and a stairway leading up.
U,E,D,S,W
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.
Stairs lead up, and doorways open south, east and west.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You examine the key
A delicate key of silvery metal, with precisely-cut teeth.

At the moment, the delicate key is a somewhat enlarged version of itself.
You put the yarn in the hourglass
You put the ball of yarn into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
some slippers (made of stone)
a needle
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ring (being worn)
You untangle the yarn
You are unable to do so.
You tie the yarn to the slippers
It's much too tangled.
You put needle in the hourglass
You put the needle into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a needle (enlarged)
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
some slippers (made of stone)
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ring (being worn)
You examine the yarn
A ball of navy wool bigger than your head.
You ask W,  to go west
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You take the needle
Ordinarily you'd find something like this a bit of a task to lift, but the rules are different here. Not that it's any less heavy; just that your capacity for endurance is more.
W,N,U,W,D
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

You stand in the center of a dim room, lit from above by a piercing light. Evidently there is another room above you, but the brilliance of its illumination makes it impossible for you to perceive anything up there.

The center of the room is occupied by a bulky expandable staircase. There is an exit east, and a stairway leading up.
E,D,W
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.
Go downward
You have reached the lowest extent of the stair, and stand on what might best be described as a small balcony. The surface of the water is still some distance below you.

Perhaps to deal with predicaments such as that in which you now find yourself, a pulley mechanism has been installed at this level.
You look at the workbox
The wooden box in which you keep small tools for your work around the house.
You take the hook
That's fixed in place.
U,E,S,W
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You put slippers in the hourglass
You put the slippers into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
You look at the slippers
Tattered by too many errands of this kind. And now too large to wear.
Go east
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.
W,N,W,D
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

You have reached the lowest extent of the stair, and stand on what might best be described as a small balcony. The surface of the water is still some distance below you.

Perhaps to deal with predicaments such as that in which you now find yourself, a pulley mechanism has been installed at this level.
You wear the slippers
(first taking the slippers)
You put them on, but they slip off again.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
some slippers (enlarged)
a needle (enlarged and made of stone)
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
a ring (being worn)
You examine the ring
A plain metal band, without adornment, that you have been accustomed to wear on your right hand. It is the only thing of value you possess.
You remove the ring
You take off the ring.
You put the ring on the hook
Nothing happens -- perhaps something heavier?
U,E,S,E
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

An orchard of glass trees: trunks slender and orderly as the columns of the Alhambra, foliage iridescent and frail. No wind stirs, and yet, from time to time, a leaf casts free of its branch and drifts to the ground. The whole floor of the cavern is deep with them.

At the center of this is a clearing where a monstrous furnace stands -- shaped like a coiled dragon.
You ask W,  to go west
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the smaller end is uppermost.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
some slippers (enlarged)
a needle (enlarged and made of stone)
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a workbox
E,N,W,D
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

You have reached the lowest extent of the stair, and stand on what might best be described as a small balcony. The surface of the water is still some distance below you.

Perhaps to deal with predicaments such as that in which you now find yourself, a pulley mechanism has been installed at this level.

On the pulley is a ring.
You take the ring
Taken.
You put ring on the hook
(You have a feeling you won't get it back.)

The chain shifts, tugging against its own rust. Then, with a long resentful screech that you can feel in your teeth, the pulley shifts and the ring descends into the water. At the same time, something else is lifted out.

You rub at the bare spot on your ring finger. You've worn that for nearly five years now.
Describe the surroundings
You have reached the lowest extent of the stair, and stand on what might best be described as a small balcony. The surface of the water is still some distance below you.

Perhaps to deal with predicaments such as that in which you now find yourself, a pulley mechanism has been installed at this level.

On the pulley is a perfect icosahedron.

You taste bitter pride. Determination is, in the end, more valuable than any other conceivable commodity.
You examine icosahedron
An icosahedron made of glass, on the surface of which are etched fishes of all kinds, branching coral, dolphins and whales; ships swollen with wind, merfolk, sunk treasure... all the lustre of the surface of the sea, and all the mystery of its depth.
You take the icosahedron
As you remove the burden, the chain shifts again and, with a rattle, comes off the pulley, leaving only the pulley itself, but no hook.

As for the icosahedron, it tingles in your hand--
About yourself
Later, water again: the women washing your mother's body. A voice: "You're going to have to make a decision. What do you want to do now? The convent will take you, if you wish, or you could go into service..."

But you buried your face, and the decisions were made on your behalf.
Then you come back to yourself, your face still wet.
About yourself
You're you.
You touch yourself
The boundaries of yourself still exist, in a fashion.
U,E,U,U
This is the rim of a great cistern, which is built of bricks and lined with plaster, and must be very old. Along the inside of the cistern, a spiral stair descends towards the surface of the water, more than a full story below you.

The walls themselves are painted with images of the vast unsociable ocean: of the broad empty water, the clustering clouds, the thin and distant crust that is the beginning of the New World.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
Up there, cogs and wheels are moving at great speed. You don't dare try to climb up.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You take the sturdy key
You pull the key lightly out of the statue's grasp. It is warm and familiar in your hand.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You look at the sturdy key
A sturdy key of golden metal, with precisely-cut teeth.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
Up
Up there, cogs and wheels are moving at great speed. You don't dare try to climb up.
Down
Enter saved game to store: Ok.
You touch the statue
The marble has been given a high degree of polish, taking on almost a soapy quality under your touch.
You take the mirror
That's hardly portable.
You go to the south
Against the rough north wall of the cavern lies a moon-shaped landing of white stone, with a pair of shallow steps down to the glass-black surface of the lake. A Moorish archway leads away to the north.

The only furniture is an ornate metal pole, branching at the top, with dozens of bells hung from the branches.
Inventory
You are carrying:
some slippers (enlarged)
a needle (enlarged and made of stone)
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a workbox
two keys:
a sturdy key
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
You throw tube at the machinery
That doesn't make much sense.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You turn the statue
You are unable to.
You put the tube in the machinery
That doesn't make much sense.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
Ascend
Up there, cogs and wheels are moving at great speed. You don't dare try to climb up.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You listen
It's quiet.
You look at the walls
The squares of precious substances have cut with the greatest care, so that their surfaces are smoothly polished and bevelled. You are unable to determine by what means they have been attached to the stone beneath.

There is one sheet of coppery metal that seems to be coming loose, however.
You take sheet
It is still (though barely) attached to the wall.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You pull the sheet
You succeed in freeing the copper placard: it clatters to the ground, opening a dark hole in the wall protected by a sort of lockable grate.
You examine the grate
Made of sturdy iron bars interlaced.
Unlock grate
(with the sturdy key)
The key is too large to fit the lock.
You unlock the grate with the gold key
The key is too large to fit the lock.
You put the sturdy key in the hourglass
You put the sturdy key into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end smaller than it was when it went in.
E,N,U
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

You can see a placard here.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You unlock the grate with the sturdy key
The key seems as though it would go in the lock, but it is slightly too small.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
D,S,W
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

A long, vaulted room, lined with cages of filigree and jewels. All of the animals are motionless and still, perhaps through the art of a taxidermist. In one cage is an elephant, so short that he reaches only to your knee; you easily could lift him under one arm and carry him away. In another cage, a giant mouse lies, curled as though slumbering, his paws folded in the semblance of prayer.

Mounted on a swivel on the wall is what looks like an irregular hourglass, one bulb larger than the other. There is no sand within -- nor could there be, since the contraption is open at each end. At the moment the larger end is uppermost.
You put the sturdy key in the hourglass
You put the sturdy key into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end larger than it was when it went in.
E,N,U
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.
You unlock the grate with the sturdy key
You unlock the grating and swing it open.
Go north
You're going to need your hands free if you want to crawl in there.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You drop all
sturdy key: Dropped.
slippers: Dropped.
needle: Dropped.
ball of yarn: Dropped.
magnifying glass: You set the magnifying glass down gently.
tube: Dropped.
workbox: Dropped.
delicate key: Dropped.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
Go north
You take a deep breath and enter, suppressing your distaste.

You're crouched in a square crawlspace, barely broader than the width of your shoulders. The absence of light makes things particularly unpleasant.

There's a ferocious rumbling at the northernmost (and lowest) end of the crawlspace, where, you imagine, something very large is rotating.
You listen
It sounds as though something very large is in motion nearby.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You listen
It sounds as though something very large is in motion nearby.
You examine the wall
(the walls)
You don't see anything particularly exciting.
You go to the west
There's no room in that direction.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You examine the machinery
(the celestial clockwork)
You can barely see anything at all.
You enter the machinery
(the celestial clockwork)
That's not something you can enter.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
Down
There's no room in that direction.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You go south
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

You can see a workbox (which is empty), a tube (which is empty), a magnifying glass, a ball of yarn, a needle, some slippers, a placard and two keys (a delicate key and a sturdy key) here.

"There's no glory in needless martyrdom." The priest again, leaning in the doorway while you scrubbed the floor. "You can come away from here."

You flung dirty water on his shadow, and scowled.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a placard
some slippers (enlarged)
a needle (enlarged and made of stone)
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
a magnifying glass
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a workbox
two keys:
a sturdy key (shrunken) (which opens the grating)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You drop all
placard: Dropped.
slippers: Dropped.
needle: Dropped.
ball of yarn: Dropped.
magnifying glass: You set the magnifying glass down gently.
tube: Dropped.
workbox: Dropped.
sturdy key: Dropped.
delicate key: Dropped.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You take the tube
Taken.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You put the tube in the hole
You put the tube into the dark hole.
You go north
There's not going to be room while the tube is in there.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You get tube
Taken.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You drop the tube
Solid, even stone.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.

Dropped.
Go north
You take a deep breath and enter, suppressing your distaste.

You're crouched in a square crawlspace, barely broader than the width of your shoulders. The absence of light makes things particularly unpleasant.

There's a ferocious rumbling at the northernmost (and lowest) end of the crawlspace, where, you imagine, something very large is rotating.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You go south
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

You can see a tube (which is empty), two keys (a delicate key and a sturdy key), a workbox (which is empty), a magnifying glass, a ball of yarn, a needle, some slippers and a placard here.
Go north
You take a deep breath and enter, suppressing your distaste.

You're crouched in a square crawlspace, barely broader than the width of your shoulders. The absence of light makes things particularly unpleasant.

There's a ferocious rumbling at the northernmost (and lowest) end of the crawlspace, where, you imagine, something very large is rotating.
You throw the tube at the hole
The tube bounces and falls harmlessly to the ground.
You wear the slippers
(first taking the slippers)
You put them on, but they slip off again.
You take the slippers
You already have those.
D,S,E
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

An orchard of glass trees: trunks slender and orderly as the columns of the Alhambra, foliage iridescent and frail. No wind stirs, and yet, from time to time, a leaf casts free of its branch and drifts to the ground. The whole floor of the cavern is deep with them.

At the center of this is a clearing where a monstrous furnace stands -- shaped like a coiled dragon.
You put the slippers in the hourglass
You put the slippers into the contraption; predictably, it squinches down, passes through the narrow neck, and emerges from the other end smaller than it was when it went in.
You ask N,  to ascend
Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

You can see a tube (which is empty), two keys (a delicate key and a sturdy key), a workbox (which is empty), a magnifying glass, a ball of yarn, a needle and a placard here.
You put the slippers in the machinery
(the celestial clockwork)
(first taking them off)

That's not possible in so confined a space.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You enter the clockwork
That's not something you can enter.

"There's no glory in needless martyrdom." The priest again, leaning in the doorway while you scrubbed the floor. "You can come away from here."

You flung dirty water on his shadow, and scowled.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You enter the clockwork
That's not something you can enter.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You kick machinery
(the celestial clockwork)
That's not possible in so confined a space.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You feel the stone
Rough under your fingers.
Smell
You smell nothing unexpected.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You touch the clockwork
You're not foolish enough to try to put your hands on the moving mechanism.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
Hit mechanism
Unlikely that would achieve anything.
Go downwards
There's no room in that direction.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
Look around
You're crouched in a square crawlspace, barely broader than the width of your shoulders. The absence of light makes things particularly unpleasant.

There's a ferocious rumbling at the northernmost (and lowest) end of the crawlspace, where, you imagine, something very large is rotating.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
some slippers (made of stone) (being worn)
You wear the placard
(first taking the placard)
You can't wear that!

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You put it in the tube
The needle is too large to fit in there.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You examine the statue
Naked except for the sandals laced around his ankles, empty-handed. His face is more vigorous than beautiful; his hair is arranged around his head in a disorderly array of curls. He is looking up from under a strong brow, his gaze bent on something above you.
You take the mantle
You see yourself upside down -- and other. Your reflection seems taller, more noble, with untattered clothes. And your upside-down face! Neither a woman's face nor a man's, but lovely and severe, with burning eyes.

That seems to be a part of the statue of a woman.
You get the mantle
That seems to be a part of the statue of a woman.
You look at the statue in the mirror
(first taking the concave mirror)
That's hardly portable.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a needle (enlarged and made of stone)
some slippers (made of stone) (being worn)
You look at the statue's reflection
Which do you mean, the statue's head or the statue's mantle?
You examine the statue's head
Her hair is gathered back from her head on each side in curling tendrils; she has a straight and shapely nose, a small full mouth, a round chin.
You enter the hourglass
A daring idea, but impracticable.
Examine leaves
The individual leaves are shaped like spades, but with serrated edges.
You poke the elephant with the needle
Futile.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a needle (enlarged)
some slippers (made of stone) (being worn)
E,N,U
A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

You can see a placard, a tube (which is empty), two keys (a delicate key and a sturdy key), a workbox (which is empty), a magnifying glass and a ball of yarn here.
You take all
placard: Taken.
tube: Taken.
delicate key: Taken.
sturdy key: Taken.
workbox: Taken.
magnifying glass: Taken.
ball of yarn: Taken.
Up
Up there, cogs and wheels are moving at great speed. You don't dare try to climb up.
You put the placard in the hole
You put the placard into the dark hole.

The grumbling of machinery catches your attention.
You look at the placard
You can't really see the placard.

From somewhere nearby comes a low rumbling.
You look around
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

Once your master told the priest that you would be useful. At the time you thought he meant for cleaning house.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a ball of yarn (enlarged)
a magnifying glass
a workbox
two keys:
a sturdy key (shrunken) (which opens the grating)
a delicate key (enlarged and made of metal) (which opens the
silvered door)
a tube (enlarged and made of metal)
a needle (enlarged)
some slippers (made of stone) (being worn)
Up
You clamber up through the stilled wheels...

You stand among cogs and gears, many with teeth longer than your forearm; the outer ring of the floor is wholly occupied with these.

But above is a spangled darkness full of music. The moon hangs overhead, and all the constellations, frozen in their places.

In the center of the floor, bathed in its own light, is a perfect dodecahedron.
You examine the dodecahedron
A solid of unidentifiable material, smooth, shiny, and unflawed, across whose surfaces play the images of stars. Orion. Casseiopeia. The Pleiades. The Great Bear. And here and there among the constellations, the planets, wanderers, appear: traveling back on themselves, then straight again, across the dozen facets of the gem.
You take it
It weighs almost nothing, but you hear its music for a moment in your mind: gracious and yet swift, a courtly dance.
You keep going
He opens the book on his desk, and shows you the images therein: the planets represented by gods, each with attributes; the bird with three heads, cased in a glass bottle; the constellations, given their proper faces. And as you look at the pictures, he tells you about things: Time, eternity. The significance of objects themselves, and of their relationships, of their proportions. Of harmony, both moral and physical.
Continue
Too bad the price has been so great and the reward so slight. Your mother's ring, all you had left of her. Except, of course, the ruins of a house you cannot inhabit.

Destruction gratifies you. Proof of your strength. In small ways the hardness you must practice here creeps into your action in the ordinary world. (Memories you can't disguise from yourself: kicking a little girl, breaking a window for no reason.)
You describe your surroundings
You stand among cogs and gears, many with teeth longer than your forearm; the outer ring of the floor is wholly occupied with these.

But above is a spangled darkness full of music. The moon hangs overhead, and all the constellations, frozen in their places.
About yourself
You don't need to look to know yourself: mind and will and soul, untied from matter.
You examine the moon
Queenly and bright: she seems now a sphere made of silver and ebony, now a beautiful woman in black and white robes, in a chariot drawn by bulls.
You look at the stars
Stars, the size of pomegranates, hanging in perfect emptiness.
D,D,S,S
You clamber down through the stilled wheels...

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

Tower, Bottom
You stand at the bottom of a stone tower. Doorways open in each of the cardinal directions, except for the north; there, a spacious niche contains the statue of a woman, skillfully executed in white marble.

The center of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase, but one made of such slender and delicate supports that it obscures neither light nor view.

The silvery door to the south stands open.

A straight white light comes through the hole in the ceiling, but it is soon after twisted and bent: mirrors cast it from angle to angle; crystal divides it; glass stains it.

East and west, low corridors lead into shadow.

The silvery door to the north stands open.

Against the rough north wall of the cavern lies a moon-shaped landing of white stone, with a pair of shallow steps down to the glass-black surface of the lake. A Moorish archway leads away to the north.

The only furniture is an ornate metal pole, branching at the top, with dozens of bells hung from the branches.
You examine the pole
Tiny silver bells, each with its tongue.
You ring bell
You tap one of the bells; it chimes so softly as almost not to be heard at all.
Shake pole
The sound is light and clear. A thousand tiny circles form and dissipate on the surface of the water, as though it rained.
You listen
The quiet after rain.

There is a distant splash; a long silence; a repetition.
Wait
Time passes.

A dark shape distinguishes itself from the other darkness on the water: a small gondola without passengers, a single gondolier bent at his pole. It is progressing towards you.
You enter the gondola
The gondolier watches impassively as you clamber in.

With a heavy sigh, the gondolier pushes the gondola off and begins the return journey to the south shore. After a few minutes, you arrive...

A narrow ledge of solid rock at the southern end of a great cavern. Beyond it lies a body of water so flat, so black and tranquil, that it might be a surface of polished obsidian.

A gondola waits nearby, the gondolier leaning against his pole.

Embedded in the wall, a mirror reflects your movements: an odd smoothness in the unshaped stone.

A heavy bronze bell hangs from a stand.

The gondolier lifts his head and sighs softly.
You look at the mirror
A flat round mirror, which reflects you dimly in its face. Around the edge runs the series of signs that fix an earthly object in an unearthly world: your master put this here for your return.

The gondolier, apparently weary of the wait, pushes off from the ledge and is quickly merged again with the darkness.
You look in mirror
(You bow your head to the inevitable, like an ox undergoing the yoke. And hate it. Has nothing changed?)

You slip through the surface of the mirror...
You look around
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.
You touch the mirror
You reach out and touch the mirror, and your double returns the gesture. Your fingers feel numb and cold.

The gondolier, apparently weary of the wait, pushes off from the ledge and is quickly merged again with the darkness.
You examine mirror
A flat round mirror, which reflects you dimly in its face. Around the edge runs the series of signs that fix an earthly object in an unearthly world: your master put this here for your return.
You look in the mirror
You make out your face -- a bit tired and smudged, and the features look sharper than you remembered. You feel cold just looking at yourself.
You take all
He opens the book on his desk, and shows you the images therein: the planets represented by gods, each with attributes; the bird with three heads, cased in a glass bottle; the constellations, given their proper faces. And as you look at the pictures, he tells you about things: Time, eternity. The significance of objects themselves, and of their relationships, of their proportions. Of harmony, both moral and physical.
Too bad the price has been so great and the reward so slight. Your mother's ring, all you had left of her. Except, of course, the ruins of a house you cannot inhabit.

Destruction gratifies you. Proof of your strength. In small ways the hardness you must practice here creeps into your action in the ordinary world. (Memories you can't disguise from yourself: kicking a little girl, breaking a window for no reason.)
I beg your pardon?
You go downwards
You clamber down through the stilled wheels...

Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.
About yourself
You don't need to look to know yourself: mind and will and soul, untied from matter.
You put the glass in the light
(the magnifying glass in the light hole)
It's out of reach.
You look in the mirror
(You bow your head to the inevitable, like an ox undergoing the yoke. And hate it. Has nothing changed?)

Back home, fast as thinking.
But your master cowers and trembles when he sees you, and cannot be made to know you until you put the knowledge into him.

Your positions are, from now on, reversed: it is he who bows to you, who follows and obeys you. Some rip has occurred in the illusion you called the world, so that everywhere you go, you find the substance and the structure beyond.
Go east
On the curving walls are painted the village and the nearby countryside; beyond those are impossibly distant places (labelled for your better instruction): Paris, spired and shimmering; southward Rome; a misty London in the north.

One of the large paving stones has been removed from its position, and a ladder descends into the dark gap beneath.
Go upwards
The only exit is down the stairs you came up.
You look at the frogs
Made of green Venetian ware, set in a pond full of lilies. The largest is a bullfrog, with bulging eyes and a full extended throat.

The water is done in several layers of glass, so that through the mottled blue of the surface you can discern the darting koi painted on the lower levels.
You look at the pond
The surface layer is interlocked with ripples, and mottled blue and clear; beneath are several levels of fish, some close and large, some small and almost invisible with depth.
You touch the pond
The surface of the pond feels uneven under your fingers, and you wonder what technique could have produced so accurate an impression of broken water.
You go south
Stairs lead up and down, and doorways open east and west.
You look in the lake
You're arrested by your own faint reflection, staring back pale and disshevelled from the surface.
You think
You're thinking pretty much constantly.
You wake up
Who is to say whether you are awake now or sleeping? But whichever it is, you cannot change that state by your own volition.
You look in the keyhole
Since the door is open, you find yourself peering through at the adjacent wall.
You examine the light
It's hard to tell, from here, whether you are seeing sunlight or some other kind. You see daylight rarely in your travels; these are isolated places, self-contained.

But the light is too bright too look at long, whether it falls through glass or empty air; it carries no heat.
You enter the light
It's out of reach.
You look in the mirrors
(Yes, why not? An easier way than to go home, in bitterness.)

You leap, divide, return by multiple ways.
Out of unity into multiplicity, out of time into the eternal instant. Feeling all the surface of the walls on your back, having the image of every angle in your eyes. In this little space, you know as much as God himself: omniscience bounded in a hollow shell.
You examine north wall
The north wall has been scraped into a rough obedience; set into it, an archway of white stone, shaped like a keyhole.
You examine the archway
Outlined in white stone and decorated with a geometric pattern.
You touch the lake
So cold it burns your fingers and leaves your whole arm feeling momentarily numb.
You examine the water
It's too far away for you to reach from here.
You look in the water
It's too dark to see anything that might be down there.
You descend
The only exit is the spiral stair, by which you can emerge from the cistern.
You jump
(Yes, why not? An easier way than to go home, in bitterness.)

You let yourself go, fall-- down, to, through the surface of the water -- fading the deeper you go, losing yourself in the infinite depth, until you come to dark unbeing and cool slumber at the world's heart.
You examine the ocean
A great expanse of open water, in some places calm, in some rough. Here and there the artist has added sea creatures: the fins of fish, a coil of the Leviathan. Trade ships run before the wind, bent steeply on their courses. And pirates after them.
You examine the pirates
Almost too small to see, numerous but dwarfed by the ocean itself.
You look at the pirates with the lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)

And end on a squalid deck, stinking of close-packed bodies and unfresh meat. The horizon tips and sways, and you clutch the railing, trying to find your place, your balance. You had not really even understood that there were such places as this in the world, let alone that you might come to them.

Then someone shouts at you in gutter Spanish, and you reply without thinking. In your glass, a fat English vessel is crowding sail.
There will be a fine take before nightfall...
You look at new World with the lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)
You fall through the magnifying glass, and find yourself-- On a bare strand, between the forest and the open sea. There are no footsteps, no buildings, no signs of harbor or of habitation. Just pale sand, virgin underfoot.
You examine new World
A thin strip of coastline on the horizon, showing a dense growth of strange trees, and in a few places mountains rising out of the surrounding land. A single plume of smoke rises from this shore, as though to indicate that the land is inhabited, though only just.

Some of the picture is too tiny for you to make out with the naked eye.
You examine the village with the lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)
You fall through the magnifying glass, and find yourself-- Where you have no further use for the knowledge gained from books, or any of the hard and tortuous learning that your master practices, with its arcana and its grim secrets.
You examine the trade ships with the lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)

Barefoot on a sloping deck. The horizon tips unpleasantly. Elation and terror mingle in your gut -- and you puke spectacularly over the side.
You look at the paris with lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)

You're translated instantly into that bright and shallow world: silks, canopies, masques. Everything you were before takes but a moment to forget. Long hours, work, servitude; the light in Tuscany; your mother's grave.

And then you're gathering your skirts and descending the grand stairs, your slippers silent on the marble.
You look at London
The fog seems to part a little even as you look. You see the houses of merchants, and men planning expeditions, and the builders of ships, and other things, small but perfect: however closely you look you can't seem to see it all.
You examine London with the lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)

And suddenly you're on the stage, sleeves of your costume flapping, voice loud: "Nothing of him that doth fade / but doth suffer a sea-change..." No time to think, only to act. The part comes naturally to you: feigned service to a magician-master, trouble, tempest, truth. Your freedom, earned.

Later, undressing in the room behind the stage, you'll remember only that you've forgotten something.
You look at the rome
The image grows in your eyes as you look: there are the ruins of the ancients, arches and pillars. There are the palaces of the modern princes, and the court of the Pope, with the Pontiff himself on his throne, and all his Cardinals around. And there are other things, too small and fine for you to see.
You examine the rome with the lens
(A fatalistic gesture, of sorts, since you can't bring yourself to put an actual end to your life. But you're sick of home, and yourself, and mean to flee both.)

And you're standing in a crowded corridor with the light squeezing in the windows. Everywhere around you is the sussurus of speech -- Italian, Latin, whispered French, sibilants and nasals. Your brain reaches for, but cannot wholly grasp, an understanding.

But you are swept along soon enough with the other pawns, children, servants and hangers-on, into a maze of politics and prayer.
You look at the walls
The squares of precious substances have cut with the greatest care, so that their surfaces are smoothly polished and bevelled. You are unable to determine by what means they have been attached to the stone beneath.

In one place, however, the placard has been moved away and a dark space exposed beneath.
Go up
You clamber up through the stilled wheels...

You stand among cogs and gears, many with teeth longer than your forearm; the outer ring of the floor is wholly occupied with these.

But above is a spangled darkness full of music. The moon hangs overhead, and all the constellations, frozen in their places.
You drop all
ball of yarn: Dropped.
magnifying glass: You set the magnifying glass down gently.
workbox: Dropped.
sturdy key: Dropped.
delicate key: Dropped.
tube: Dropped.
needle: Dropped.
You go north
You take a deep breath and enter, suppressing your distaste.

You're crouched in a square crawlspace, barely broader than the width of your shoulders. The absence of light makes things particularly unpleasant.

There's a faint draft at the northern end of the tunnel.
Go north
There's no room in that direction.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
You enter the mechanism
That's not something you can enter.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
Touch mechanism
The metal is astonishingly cold to the touch, especially for something that has been in such constant motion.

The undressed stone of the walls scrapes at you as you move, which is an extremely unpleasant and distracting sensation.
Go south
Tower, Mid-level
A midpoint in the tower, with doorways east and west, lit from above. The south wall is occupied by a deep niche, in which is a statue of a young man in the Greek mode.

The walls have been sheathed with a variety of fine materials, all exceptionally costly: sheets of beaten gold, squares of lapis lazuli, placards of ruby and adamant. There is a dark, square hole in the north wall where one of these sheets has been removed.

You can see a needle, a tube (which is empty), two keys (a delicate key and a sturdy key), a workbox (which is empty), a magnifying glass and a ball of yarn here.
You take all
needle: Taken.
tube: Taken.
delicate key: Taken.
sturdy key: Taken.
workbox: Taken.
magnifying glass: Taken.
ball of yarn: Taken.
You look in the gold
(the sturdy key)
You find nothing of interest.
You look through lens
[ Try LOOK THROUGH GLASS AT <thing> ]
You go south
Stairs lead up and down, and doorways open east and west.
You put the yarn in the dragon
You put the ball of yarn into the furnace.
You look at the ball
A glass ball, like those that scryers use.
You look in it
You peer at the small figure of your master, there at the center of the farseeing glass.

The bending in is startling -- pressure in your head, in your lungs -- and then the release comes suddenly.
And here you are, at home. He hasn't seen you yet; he's still bent over the bed with its tossed blankets and the lines he tied over you when you slept. You reach down and touch the top of his head.

It is a moment before he recognizes you. "How did you--?" He gestures at the mattress, empty. "You should have come back here."

"I took my own way."

His gaze falls, from your face to the thing gleaming in your left hand, and you see that he knows he will never again send you unwilling on any errand.
You put the box in the dragon
You put the workbox into the furnace.
Examine box
An ordinary round box, but made of metal.
You look in the box
The workbox is empty.
You put the ball in the dragon
You can only fit one thing into the furnace at a time.
You take all from dragon
Removed.
You put the ball in the dragon
You put the scrying glass into the furnace.
You turn the ear to 4
It is already set to that position.
You look at the ball
A large shining ball of metal.
You look in the ball
You find it hard to see through the opaque material.
You examine the ball with the lens
You peer at the small figure of your master, there at the center of the farseeing glass.

The bending in is startling -- pressure in your head, in your lungs -- and then the release comes suddenly.
Juggle ball
And here you are, at home. He hasn't seen you yet; he's still bent over the bed with its tossed blankets and the lines he tied over you when you slept. You reach down and touch the top of his head.

It is a moment before he recognizes you. "How did you--?" He gestures at the mattress, empty. "You should have come back here."

"I took my own way."

His gaze falls, from your face to the thing gleaming in your left hand, and you see that he knows he will never again send you unwilling on any errand.