CH544 · Rewrite
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Chapter 544: A New Source of Power

“A world like that.” Roland let himself smile.

He told Nightingale to send Anna in.

Nightingale slipped away without comment — she always did, at these moments, as though privacy were something she could fold neatly and leave at the door.

Anna arrived in the light blue dress he’d guided the seamstresses to make during one of his slower afternoons: flow-coated fabric from Soraya, knee-length black stockings, soft moccasins. The cloth was almost weightless, and it moved when she did in a way that most dresses in this era did not. She had worn it without much comment the first time, examined the stitching with the same methodical attention she brought to everything, and then worn it again.

When she looked at him, something he couldn’t quite name settled into its right place.

He pulled her onto his lap without preamble. She let him. He pressed his face briefly into her hair, found the scent of it, then kissed her cheek.

“I want to develop a new source of power.”

She turned her head to look at him. The light from the window caught the angle of her collarbone.

He reached for it. She laughed and pulled away.

“Your Majesty.”

“Right.” He sat her down properly and went to collect the blueprints from the side table. “Look at these first. Tell me how much you understand.”

When Anna studied something, her expression became perfectly still — not cold, but clear, the way still water becomes clear when the wind drops. Roland watched her move through the drawings and felt, as he sometimes did, that particular brand of shame that comes from sitting next to someone genuinely smarter than you and knowing you cannot hide it. He counteracted this by thinking about the previous night, which helped.

“I’ve understood most of it.” She looked up, set the last page down, and thought for a moment. “It’s powered by steam, like the engine. But instead of a piston, it uses blades like a windmill — so it doesn’t need the reciprocating motion of the connecting rods. The steam passes through continuously rather than being converted back and forth.” A slight pause. “Is that right?”

“Exactly.” He put the distraction away and found his working self. “It’s called a steam turbine. The same principle — high-pressure steam — but the thermal efficiency is significantly higher than what we have now.”

This was the machine he had been circling toward for months. The bottleneck in Neverwinter’s industry was not ambition or material — it was the dependence on Anna. Everything that required precision steel passed through her, and her hours were finite. The turbine was the first step toward changing that: not eliminating her role, but redirecting it toward work only she could do.

The turbine had two immediate uses. The first was ships. The second was electricity — and electricity was the more urgent.

After Fallen Dragon Ridge was taken, Countess Spear would need months to stabilize the region. Mystery Moon could not be expected to power the industrial district indefinitely; she could barely cover it now. The residential districts still had no reliable night lighting. Roland had no one to blame for this gap but himself — it was a planning failure, and he had made it early, when he’d been too inexperienced to see it.

Steam engines generated inconsistent current. He understood the principle but not the full mathematics of voltage regulation, and the variance made widespread electrical supply impractical. A turbine’s output was steadier and its thermal efficiency was higher. It was the right tool.

“What do I need to do first?” Anna asked.

He showed her the blade blueprint. “Build an operating model — about a meter long. The problem to solve is the blade angle. The high-pressure steam has to flow smoothly through every stator grille without losing pressure or colliding with itself. If you can find that geometry, more than half the engineering problem is solved.”

There was no shortcut here. The stator cascade — the fixed barrier that channeled steam before it struck the impeller — had to be precisely angled to organize the airflow rather than fight it. Get it wrong and the steam would strike the blades in opposition, generating heat and turbulence and almost no useful motion. Get it right and the machine would sing.

The impeller itself didn’t worry him. Anna’s Blackfire cut to tolerances no conventional machine tool could match. The alloy Lucia had found held at five hundred degrees without deformation. The geometry was the only remaining question, and that had to be discovered by doing.

“I understand.” Anna’s eyes were already moving through the problem, working ahead of her words. “Shall I start today?”

“There’s no rush.” He caught her hand. “You’ve heard from Wendy — we’re launching the operation to capture the demons.”

“Yes.” She looked at him steadily. “Will you be going?”

He shook his head.

The tension in her shoulders moved differently than it had a moment before. “Good.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “The last time — when you were hurt — I was frightened. I didn’t show it. But I was.”

“Nightingale told me you were the calmest one there. That your plan was what saved me.”

Before he could finish the thought, her hand covered his mouth.

“Don’t say that word.”

He waited. She lowered her hand when he nodded.

“What I wanted to say,” he continued carefully, “is that you need to take care of yourself. If anything happens — anything — use the Sigil of God’s Will without hesitating. Don’t wait. Don’t calculate. Use it.” He held her gaze. “I’ll be here at the castle waiting for you to come back.”

“Don’t worry.” The ghost of a smile. “I won’t let them hurt the others either.”


After Anna left, Roland stood at the window and watched the courtyard for a while.

“Are you here?”

“I am.” Nightingale appeared on the edge of the study table, sitting with her feet dangling. “I came back after she left. I didn’t listen.”

He nodded. He walked to the window and studied the white line of the snow mountains on the horizon.

“Before you go,” he said, “everyone will rehearse the hunting procedure multiple times. Every witch will know her own role and the role beside her. The plan is designed for a small number of demons — it will need to adapt in the field.” He was quiet for a moment. “And if you ever find yourself in the worst situation — the kind with no good options left — bring Anna back. Whatever it costs.”

Nightingale said nothing.

He turned. She was watching him with an expression he had learned not to mistake for blankness.

“Is that the real reason you’re not coming?” she asked. “If you were there, I would choose you.”

He didn’t deny it.

”…Understood.” A long exhale, almost inaudible. “I’ll do my best.”

“It’s all on you.” He put a hand briefly on her shoulder. He meant it the only way he knew how to mean it. “All of it.”

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