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Fortunately, Hector knew from the research he did all the way back in Atreya that the melting point of iron was around fifteen hundred degrees Celsius, and this magma didn’t seem to be quite that hot. Less fortunately, it was still hot enough to make control of his iron more difficult, causing it to weaken and bend against Hector’s wishes. Temperature manipulation helped, as expected, but he had to work quickly, because as per the First Law of Materialization, once his iron was created, he could no longer affect its temperature.

He grew his iron all the way to the bottom of the pool and then began making his platform in order to lift it all out. He created a funnel for it so that the magma could safely spill over to exactly where he wanted it to, and soon enough, he’d moved the entire pool into a large iron tub.

There’d been more magma there than perhaps anyone had expected, and once Hector annihilated all of his excess iron, he and Diego were both able to jump down into the now-empty moat around the monument.

“Hah!” came the exultation from Diego, and Hector looked over to see the man crouched down again, examining the bottom of the moat with a lamp in hand. “I do believe we’ve found our keyhole, boys and girls.”

Even now, Hector almost couldn’t see what the man was talking about. The keyhole in question blended into the dark rock so well as to be nearly invisible.

Diego readied the Kag with his right hand, then threw one last look up at all the faces staring down at the two of them. “I hope you won’t think less of me, but if it turns out that this Kag actually doesn’t fit in this little hole here, then I may need one of you to hold me while I have myself a good cry.”

‘Just hurry up and get on with it,’ said Yangéra.

Diego exhaled audibly. “Okay, here goes.”

He slid the Kag into place, and it appeared to fit.

But nothing happened.

‘Try turning it counterclockwise,’ said Garovel.

With noticeable strain and using both hands, Diego did so.

A deep shunk rang out, and Hector felt a sudden vibration in his feet.

But after a moment, it went away.

There was only silence as everyone waited, holding their expectations in check while they looked around, wondering if anything was going to happen.

Then the world bent in half.

Hector’s vision distorted like a smeared painting, and he lost all sense of direction or balance or footing. For a brief time, he felt as though he was floating through empty space.

A familiar feeling.

And for an even briefer time, he could see. Everything. Ethereal lights. In all directions.

As soon as he grasped what he was looking at, it was gone, and he was standing on his own two feet again, senses gradually returning to him.

He shook his head, as if to shake away the disorientation itself, and his hand searched for the wall of the moat, but it wasn’t there.