“I’ve got it. It’s like the pattern on that metal plate F’nor found at Fort Weyr. The one that mentioned fire-lizards. See, this word,” his finger traced lines that would read “eureka” to older eyes, “is the same. I’d swear it. And it was obviously added after the rest of this picture.”

“If you want to call it a picture,” Lessa said dubiously. “But I do think you’re right. Only why would they circle this part of the ladder—and that one over there—with a scribble?”

“There are so many, many puzzles in this room,” Fandarel intoned. He’d opened a cabinet door, struggling briefly with the magnetic catch, then opened and closed it several times, smiling absently in delight for such efficiency. Only then did he notice the strange object on the deep shelf.

He exhaled in wonder as he took the ungainly affair down.

“Have a care. It may waddle away,” Robinton said, grinning at the Smith’s performance.

Though the device was as long as a man’s arm, the Smith’s great hands seemed to envelop it as his fingers explored its exterior. “And they could roll metal without seam. Hmmm. It’s coated,” and he glanced up at F’lar, “with the same substance used in the big kettles. Coated for protection? With what?” He looked at it, peered at the top. “Ah, glass. Fine glass. Something to look through?” He fiddled with the easily swiveled coated glass that was fitted under a small ledge at the base of the instrument. He placed his eye at the opening on the top of the tube. “Nothing to see but through.” He straightened, his brows deeply furrowed. A rumbling sound issued from him as if the gears of his thinking were shifting audibly. “There is a very badly eroded diagram which Wansor showed me not long ago. A device,” and his fingers rested lightly on the wheels placed alongside the barrel, “which magnifies objects hundreds of times their proper size. But it takes so long to make lenses, polish mirrors. Hmmm.” He bent again and with extremely careful fingers played with the knobs at the side of the tube. He glanced quickly at the mirror, wiped it with one stained finger and looked at it once with his own eye, then again through the tube. “Fascinating. I can see every imperfection in the glass.” He was completely unconscious of the fact that everyone else was watching him, fascinated by his behavior. He pulled a coarse short hair from his head and held it under the end of the barrel, above the mirror, right across a small aperture. Another careful adjustment and he gave a bellow of joy. “Look. Look. It is only my hair. But look at the size of it now. See dust like stones, see the scales, see the broken end.”