* * *
The kitchen seemedto grow more sweltering each day, and Viv and Tandri were both anxious for Cal’s return. When he eventually appeared, the hob produced a big, folded sheet of parchment, which he spread out on the counter top in front of them. It contained a few separate sketches with some measurements, but Viv had no idea what she was looking at.
“So, this is our solution to the heat problem back here?”
“Hm. It’s an auto-circulator. Like I said, saw one on a gnomish pleasure craft. Would take me a few hours to fix it in place. Maybe even a whole day. Have to cut into the stovepipe a bit, and we’ll need the ladder to hang it up there. Prob’ly need a hand from you. Heavy.” He pointed at the ceiling.
“I’m happy to close for a day if it means we don’t feel like we’reinthe oven back here.”
Tandri blew out a breath of agreement.
“Ain’t cheap, though,” said the hob, looking apologetic. He tapped the diagram. “These I have to get from a gnomish artificer, and they come dear.”
“How much are we talking?”
“Three sovereigns.”
“Huh. That’s only two months of telling the Madrigal to take a swim.”
Cal’s glare was severe.
“Only joking!” said Viv mildly, although she wasn’t sure she was. “But yeah, let’s do it.”
She dug out four sovereigns and handed them over. “And for your time. No, don’t hand one back.”
“Hm. End of the week work for you?”
“Perfect.”
* * *
When Cal returnedat the appointed time, Viv already had a sign out front.
CLOSED
Today Only for Renovation
She’d already seen several morning regulars reading it with various expressions of disappointment. An irrational fear that they’d never return again seized her, but she squashed it as best she could.
The hob pushed a handcart loaded with a big, brass-barreled mechanism, multiple large, wing-like blades, a smaller fan, like a windmill, and a long, leather band of some sort, resembling an enormous stropping belt.
Viv stared at the confusion of parts with hands on hips. “Huh. I had no idea how this was going to work from the drawings, and now I’m even more confused.”
“Oh, it’s clever,” said Cal, grunting as he maneuvered the handcart through the doors Viv held open. “Trust a gnome to surprise you.”
First Cal removed a section of the stovepipe, cutting it in half and installing the small windmill-like fan into a clever housing with a set of interlocking gears on the spindle. Viv helped him position and re-affix it into the primary stovepipe.
Viv retrieved the old ladder from the back alley and leaned it up against the wall. With some careful maneuvering, Cal ascended, and she stepped up behind him, hauling the brass mechanism. She managed to hold it in place against the ceiling with one hand, evenhermuscles straining at the awkward position and the weight held high above her head.
Cal installed it quickly with some gnomish screws, and Viv tugged on it to make sure it wasn’t going to come down on their heads.
Viv ended up holding Cal above her so he could slot the big wing-like blades into four arms that radiated from the barrel, making it resemble a much larger version of the contraption in the stovepipe. Then they strung the enormous leather belt around the spindle of the brass barrel and across to the exposed wheel housing in the stovepipe.
“Well,” said Viv. “Istilldon’t know how this works, but stone me if I don’t want to see it in action.”
Cal chuckled wryly and tossed some wood into the stove before setting it alight.
At first, nothing much happened, but as the heat built and the hot air rose, the belt began to move, very slowly at first. It never achieved a particularly high speed, but the big fan on the ceiling began to stir the air in a steady, cooling breeze.
