“From Tahei, the builder. They’re all extra tools and spare parts, he said.”

“I see.”

Dyeawan’s features darken. She begins to suspect she’s done something wrong.

“Are you upset?” she asks. “Is this against the rules?”

“Not… strictly speaking, no,” Edger answers, then seems to remember himself and replaces the mask over his face. “I’m not upset with you, not at all. I’m intrigued.”

That brings a grin to Dyeawan’s face.

“May I show you how it works?” she asks.

“Please do.”

Excited, Dyeawan snatches up the box tethered to the conjoined lamps by those cables.

“There’s a small portcullis separating the two compartments, you see.”

“I do.”

She pulls one of the levers connected to the box and a small wooden panel is drawn up from between the two lamps.

When Dyeawan pulls the box’s second lever, the vise grip bracing both sides of that blacksmith’s bellow tightens, compressing the accordion folds of the bellow and spitting a puff of white dusty power into the lamp.

Whatever the compound is, the moment it hits the insects they uncouple, their light dying as they flit as far and as fast apart from each other as possible. This sends one of them careening into the glass and the other through the open slot between the two lamps.

When that happens, Dyeawan reverses the first lever on the iron box and the portcullis lowers, trapping the bug inside and separating it from its mate.

“That is… quite remarkable,” Edger observes.

“But wait!” Dyeawan pleads. “That’s only half of it. You see how the little ones can’t bear to be separated?”

Indeed, the insects are both digging at the portcullis sectioning off the two lamps, desperate to return to each other.

Dyeawan again pulls the first lever. As soon as the portcullis opens the two insects return to their primal instincts and couple, lighting the lamp anew.

She closes the portcullis and beams up at Edger. “You see? You can turn the lamp on and off with the flick of a switch! It saves energy and prolongs the lifespan of the creatures, and allows you to control the light in a room or corridor much easier than separating or replacing them by hand.”

Edger lowers his mask, sheathing its handle through his belt and drawing another.

It’s his surprised expression.

“That is utterly ingenious, my dear.”

“It’s crude and unwieldy right now, I know,” Dyeawan insists. “But the principle is sound. I know I can make the whole thing lighter, smaller, and easier to implement. And I know the proper way to do it would’ve been to design it and have it drafted, but I didn’t want to waste the drafters’ time—”

“Slider… the words you’re using…”

“You mean my vocabulary?” she asks without a trace of irony in her voice.

“Yes… including the word ‘vocabulary’…”