The clothes are perfect beyond my expectations. The tunic, coat, and trousers are made entirely from silk; they’re slate grey and crimson red–the traditional colors of Carlislander exile. Also included are a pair of boots and a sword belt, both made from durable, supple red leather. Those two are an unexpected addition, since they were not part of my original request. There is no cape or cloak, though. That, too, is part of the exile’s clothing restrictions.  Turing has outdone himself, and that’s just the base materials.

I slip into magesight and examine closely the spells that have been woven into the fabric. The silk has been heavily enhanced, making it even more durable than usual. “Spell sinks” placed at a few strategic points will bleed off excess magical energy, keeping me from harm if a spell goes wrong. The belt and boots are both enchanted to be resistant to wear and stronger than their flexibility would naturally allow.

Looking deeper into the box I find there is something I’ve missed. A pair of thin, well-fitting leather gloves, the same color as the boots and the belt. In addition to several spells worked into the material, the palms have an unusual pad sewn on over the leather.

“What is this?” I ask Turing, presenting my palm to him after slipping on a glove.

Turing smiles. “That’s a little mundane bonus. The material is specially textured and designed to keep your sword from slipping out of your hands. Or anything you grip for that matter. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”

I smile, removing the glove and placing it back in the box with its mate, on top of the other clothes which I have folded and returned. “It is wonderful, Mr. Director. You’ve delivered everything I wanted and then some.”

“So does this mean you’re satisfied with your payment?”

I nod. “Very. More importantly, it significantly increases the chances of me surviving my encounter with Maxwell. That has to happen before I can teach your men.”

“Naturally. You’ll be departing in the morning, right?”

“Correct.”

Turing nods approvingly, slowly standing and turning back around to face the window. When he stands, so do I.

“Lodgings for tonight have been arranged for you, Sorcerer. Simply talk to Corporal Bell, the young lady who brought you here. She’ll escort you to your quarters.”

I bow again, despite his back being toward me. “Thank you again, Director Turing. I promise I shall return as soon as I can.”