And on that flouncing note, Ibbitha returned to her workbench. Uncomfortably aware of the other mages and their unfriendly glances, Barl pushed her feelings deep inside and looked more closely at the journey clock’s design.

Brantish green sand. Three topaz. One emerald. Copper wire. Gold wire. Two gold drop weights.

Stifling a sigh, she fetched the necessary supplies and settled down to work. Breathed out her own lingering resentment and sank herself into magic’s welcome embrace.

First, the journey clock’s heart, its time-telling centre. Spin and thin the gold wire, spin the copper wire to match it and meld the two into one coppery gold conductor. Twist it, shape it, let the magic mould it into a cradle for the incant that would tell time until the end of time itself. Suspend it between the two gold drop weights. Infuse the topaz and emerald with the counter-balancing incants. Set them in their gentle orbit, round and round the coppery gold cradle. Swiftly working, Barl felt the building tension… felt the power rise… and though she despised the clock for its unimaginative simplicity, still she felt herself fall in love, because the magic was never anything less than wondrous.

That done, she transmuted the Brantish green sand into shimmering green crystal for the clock’s housing. Not satisfied with the resulting flat leafish tint, she breathed the merest hint of lake blue into the glass. Not enough to darken it, wanting only to enhance the clear colour’s depth. Perfect.

And now to the crystal’s shaping. The clock’s design called for a sphere, inside which the time-piece workings would be infinitely suspended. Delicately, Barl laid the flat sheet of greeny-blue crystal across her workbench’s padded support stands. Slid her right hand beneath it, palm up and fingers spread, and with her left hand traced a careful sigil on the air. It ignited dark crimson. The next sigil burned bright blue. The third and final sigil shone a dull, burnished gold. Power shivered across her skin.

“Rondolo.”

The air above the crystal sheet shimmered. A single sweet note sang out of the glass… and it began to writhe and melt, forming into a perfect orb.

“That’s it,” she crooned, as the power in her right hand kept the growing sphere aloft. “Dance for me.”

With a snap of her fingers, she halted the transmutation just before the crystal sphere sealed itself shut. Then, holding her breath, she guided the gold-and-copper cradle, with its gold drop weights and orbiting gemstones, inside the crystal sphere. Exactly. Another finger-snap restarted the transmutation. Four steady heartbeats later, and the sphere was sealed shut.

Now the timepiece incant, so familiar she could create it in her sleep. Fourteen syllables, three sigils, and it was done. The clock’s inner workings accepted it without complaint.