What is it with this school and snakes—

It takes her a moment to notice the approaching danger. More moments to scramble to her feet, dropping her textbook, and start to run—

Then she is out of time, and also out of the Hogwarts Grounds.

And she is somewhere blisteringly, punishingly, cold.

There are snowy hills all around. The wind is howling. There's some sort of structure visible on top of a small rise. The snake thing is not here.

The snake thing will not be missed.

She isn't dressed for the weather, and the immediate need to not freeze outweighs concerns of secrecy. She waves her wand in a complicated pattern, muttering the motions as she does, and produces a stream of hot air to fend it off in the short term.

She then stumbles for the structure with all due haste.

The wind is not her friend in the quest to stay warm. The structure is some kind of - industrial building? It's partially covered by ice, but the blocky steel frame resembles nothing so much as a factory. It looks rather abandoned.

This is really, really not Hogwarts in exam cram season.

She changes tack. Spreads the fingers of her off hand and mutters two incantations and fills her palm with handheld fire, then turns her wand windwards and uses a different incantation to produce from the tip a transparent - umbrella? Shield?

She scans the exterior of the structure for anything resembling an entrance.

This method is a lot better at keeping out the cold.

There are doors half covered by snowdrifts here and there, including a big loading bay, and a couple broken windows.

Oh good.

She tries to see how large the windows are and if they're of the openable sort.

The windows are plenty large, but mostly jammed shut. Some are broken and open, though.

The place seems abandoned.

She vanishes some particularly jagged pieces of glass, which unfortunately requires her to temporarily dismiss the umbrellashield, and then attempts to break into the seemingly abandoned building via open window.

The seemingly abandoned building continues to look abandoned. It's not really warmer inside, but there's no wind except a draft from the window. It looks like some kind of factory. Visible through the open doorway of the little office she has broken into are metal catwalks, big machines, crates. There is a desk, a metal safe, and scattered snow-covered papers, here. A light charm wouldn't go amiss to get a better picture of the place.

"Lumos."

Her wand lights up.

She tries to get a better look at the papers.

The papers are kind of a scattered mess, but seem to be paperwork for a canning factory. One typed roll of paper sitting on top of the piles looks ominous.

TELEGRAM::ATTN N.CANNERY #23::No more deliveries are scheduled STOP Weather worsening and prohibits delivery of further goods STOP Finish packaging all meat currently present and wait for evacuation STOP His Majesty's Emergency Administration, London END

And attached to it is a note,

We're running out of coal and still no sign of the evacuation transports. The telegraph line has stopped working. We are going to try to make our way to one of the cities on foot. God help us.

...what.

...she's a lot more lost than she thought she was. 

Mabel contemplates the safe, but decides instead to go through the office's open doorway and get a better look at the factory beyond.

It's an abandoned, frozen factory! Looks like all the food they were preparing never got taken anywhere, there are a few neat pallets of tin cans at one end of the row of big machines. There's what looks like an improvised living area in a corner of the factory, with a firepit and bedrolls and piles of trash. Empty.

...on one hand, ominous. On the other, useful.

She makes her way towards the improvised living area. Tries to see if any of the trash looks recent.

None of it looks very recent.

A faint light sweeps across the windows at one end of the factory. It bobs around, then goes dark again.

She startles, then goes to look out the windows.

There's a small group of people dressed in thick heavy furs, on dog-sleds, carrying lanterns. They are approaching the abandoned factory fairly quickly.

"Nox," she mutters, and then Disillusions herself; her hand shakes enough that this takes two tries.

She stands against a wall and waits to see what the lantern people do.

(The fire in her hand flickers. She hides it behind the draping sleeve of her opposite arm.)

The lantern people break into the factory with ice-picks and wander in, looking around. 

"Glen, look! It's a cannery! There's food here!"

That woman rushes over towards the pallets, but is stopped by another. "Caution, Elena. This place could be dangerous - falling ice or polar bears or something. We stick together. But yes, let's head over there."

They start making a thorough circuit of the place, speaking quietly to each other. One man remains outside, taking care of two teams of big, warm looking dogs.

She curls her hand into a fist and smothers the fire, then cancels the Disillusionment and calls out to the people.

"Hello? Who's there?"

She keeps both her hands in the open; one is still holding her wand. Her teeth chatter from the sudden cold.

They all jump.

"Ho! We're scouts from, well, we call it New Home! Who's out there?" The lanterns swing onto her.

She is a teenage girl dressed in strange dark robes with a pointy stick in one hand.

"I'm very, very lost," she says. "I'm sorry to impose, but I really have no idea where I am, how I got here, or where to go from here. Could you help me?"

Several things don't really make sense about this. They look at her in confusion for a moment, then two people speak at once.

"Are you a-"

"Of course we'll-"

They both pause for each other, then the second one continues. "I don't care who she is. I won't leave people to freeze to death out here."

"Okay, give her one of the spare coats and trousers, but I want to signal back to the city before making any decisions further than that."

"...Fine. Miss, come over, please. I'll give you something warmer than that whatever it is."

She goes over. Considers saying that it's a school uniform, but decides that would only add to the confusion.

"Thank you very much." Hesitant smile. "I can try to answer questions, if you have them, but I don't have a lot of answers either."

"Well, hon, right now my priority is making sure you're warm. Poor thing, I'm surprised you're not frostbitten!" She fishes out more heavy furs from a backpack. "Here we are. Dry and warm."

Isn't it so surprising?

She acquires furs. They are much better at insulation than her school robes, and cover up the shiny badge on her chest with the letter P on it. She smiles gratefully.

"Thank you, um - I don't think I caught your name?"

"I'm Beth. Elizabeth, my mom named me, but really... I'm Beth. And what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm Mab - really it's short for Mabel, Mabel Caldwell, but I don't mind being called by either. I can't say that the circumstances are the best, but it's nice to meet you, Beth."

"Nice to meet you too. By God, how did you get out here? Were you with the advance teams? We only barely made it ourselves, on falling-apart boats."

"I'm honestly not sure. It seemed like one moment I was safe, and the next I was here." The corner of her mouth twitches. "I'd call it magic, but that's not really a proper explanation, is it?"

"Not an explanation at all, magic... Is your head sore at all, Mab? Have you been here long, know about any dangerous surprises waiting for us?"

"It would explain a lot if it were, but no, my head feels perfectly fine. And I haven't been here long at all, but nothing looked especially dangerous. There's a little office and it looks like someone used to live over in that corner."

"We'll check the place out and then talk to the city back home." She glances at the others and drops her voice a bit. "I'ma make them let us take you with us, hear? You'll have to work hard shifts, in the city, but we all do, and it's better than freezing to death, innit?"

"I've never really fancied being an icicle," she admits. "- thank you, again. I don't know what I'd do otherwise. I know I'd be another mouth to feed, but I really am willing to work to make up for it."

"Yeah, we'll take care of you. Nobody left behind, all that rot. How did you get here? You say your head feels fine, but what do you remember?"

"Hmm..." She makes a face. "...could I take a rain check on that question? What I have's a bit muddled and nonsensical, and I'd like to have it sorted in my head before I try to tell the story."

Beth's face goes serious. "...Kid. What you're hiding, is it going to kill someone?"

She fiddles with the edge of a fur. "...no, I really don't think so, and I'd say if I did. But it might make me sound like a madwoman, so I'd rather see if there's sense to be made from it before risking that."

She nods sharply. "I believe you. In that case, you can keep it. You'd tell us if there were hungry polar bears or a crazed gunman around, I hope. Anything less, I won't pry. Though others might."

"I don't believe there are any crazed gunmen or polar bears about, unless they're very small and fit inside crates. And I don't mind if they pry - it seems a reasonable thing to do, when you find strange girls in abandoned factories - it's only that everyone's still new to me, and I'm in the habit of being careful what I say to whom."

"Hmm. Well, missy, careful not to talk too much like a Lord. You kind of sound like one, with the fancy words, and there's a lot of bad feeling 'bout the Lords. But anyway, you want indroductions? I'm Beth, there's Glen, Elena, George, Sam, and Cooper. Glen likes rules, so the Captain put him in charge of our little troop. Elena's a good shot, and his husband. George used to be a lumberjack. Sam's good with equipment and stuff. And Cooper takes care of the sled dogs."

She nods along. "I'll try to remember everyone's names, once I know which faces they belong to. I used to know a lot of people so I like to think I got pretty good at it."

A pause.

"- you said it like it was obvious, so I'm thinking I'm really lost, but I don't know who the Lords are or what they did. I'm sorry if I'm dredging up anything bad, but could you tell me? It sounds important."

"Why, they pretended everything was fine and dandy when they knew the winter to end all winters was comin', and worked us who actually work for a living to the bone preparing their supplies and escape boats. We found out what they were hiding, 'cause they wanted to take a few doctors and such, with useful skills, with 'em, and the doctors wanted to take their wives and kids, and their wives and kids wanted to take a few friends... And then everyone knew and it got a bit crazy. So, we stole a bunch of boats and came up here before the Lords could."

"I'm glad you could make it out safely," she says, with emphasis. "That's not how people should use their power."

A pause, and she frowns.

"...when did this happen? Are the Lords still... there?"

"No it is not. But that's the way of things for most people. Our Captain got chosen because he was a union head, before, and he organized the trip. He's been alright so far. I don't know anything 'bout the Lords except rumors. Probably baseless rumors. But the rumors say they're coming after us in their own boat. And that they have guns. Just, like I said, that's rumors."

"Beth!" The scouts' leader calls out to her, "We've made a circuit and we're going to report back to the city now. You take the cans from those pallets and load them onto the sleds."

"Aye, Glen. Sure thing."

"And you, kid-"

As she turns away Beth shouts, "Her name's Mab!"

"Er. Right. Mab. Do you know any other potentially useful areas around here? We want to scavenge everything we can for the city."

"I don't think I've seen anything you haven't - just the cans and crates and that corner with the bedrolls, and there might've been a safe in the office."

"I more meant any other buildings in the area, but I'll check out the safe. There's probably just old paper money in it. Might be worth hauling back for the metal, though. Do you know anything about the surrounding area, though? Where we could go next? Where you came from?"

"I didn't see much besides hills, but then again, I wasn't out in the open for very long."

She pauses. Makes a contemplative expression.

"-- I remember being somewhere very different before I arrived here. I have a guess at what happened besides 'I bumped my head and lost a journey's worth of memories', but it's complicated to explain and might just cause more questions. It's up to you if this is a good time and place for it."

"Yes, I want to hear what's going on. The more we know, the better we can plan and react."

She steps back, holds up her wand, and says, "Flagrate."

She moves her wand, and a thin line of fire trails the movement, like ink trailing a pen, lingering in the air. She draws a small heart with the fire, then pulls away her wand without producing more trails.

The fire in the outline of a heart stays floating in the air.

"In the world I'm familiar with, it's possible for some people and creatures to break the conventional laws of physics. I was sent here after being eaten by a creature with a portal for its face."

"I have just seen evidence that something extraordinary is going on." He circles around the fire hanging in the air. "Setting aside for the moment annoying nitpicking about illusions and mirrors and strings in the air or, or prepared fuel solutions or something..." He waves his hands under and around it. "Hmm. This is... Going to be important."

"Something," she agrees readily. "I can answer questions, or do another demonstration, if you have an idea for one. But you know your situation better than I do."

"Demonstrate something not related to temperature, if you please. And not just moving things around either. That will cover the last six ways stage magicians I have encountered were pulling the wool over my eyes. After that... We will talk to the city and see what they want us to do."

"Do you have a small object you don't care much about?"

He produces a piece of dried meat from somewhere. "Tell me what you're going to do to it before you do, please?"

"I'd like to make it bigger. I could shrink it back afterwards as well, but it looks like it might be more useful at a new size."

"More food is good, if it's not suddenly full of sawdust or something, quite. More importantly, this is something I provided and that you haven't had previous access to, good thinking there."

"Thank you," she says. "I promise it won't be full of sawdust. Some sorts of conjured matter decay faster, but plain making things bigger is safe."

She takes careful aim at the piece of meat, moves her wand in a circle, and says "Engorgio."

Piece of dried meat becomes a moderately bigger piece of dried meat. 

"If you say so. I imagine the Captain will want to perform thorough testing. I'm not really qualified or equipped to evaluate this. Will you accompany us back to the city, if we do not receive instructions otherwise?"

"I'd like that. I did mean it when I said earlier I wasn't sure where to go or what to do, otherwise."

"Well, I don't think they'll object but I do have to ask for instructions. I'll go get Samuel to set up the signalling tools, follow me if you like."

She nods, and follows him when he goes.

Samuel is a short and slightly pudgy man wearing some kind of aviator goggles with multiple lens. "Samuel, let's get the semaphore set up, please. Something important to report."

"Sure. Visibility's a bit low thanks to the gusts, we'll need to use the light, but the battery's low. Keep that in mind, please."

"I will. Thank you." The two men start unpacking a bundle of metal equipment and setting up a stand.

"Who's that?"

"We found her inside. Anything more than that, I'll let you ask her."

"She coming with us?"

"I don't know yet, that's why I'm calling in to the city."

"Well, I think-"

"The semaphore, please, man. Before the snow gets any worse."

"Yes, sir." They go back to setting it up in silence.

Breaking the Statute of Secrecy is sort of a rush.

She quietly observes the setup process.

It's definitely some kind of machine!

Presently it's set up, some kind of floodlight-mirror-telescope combo thingy. Samuel takes it over and points it at a faint spot of light in the distance. It clicks in odd patterns. Sort of reminiscent of telegraph machines?

Samuel looks at Mab, opens his mouth, shrugs and closes it, and walks inside the building.

She sticks around to watch the signalling.

It's pretty boring. Just switching a light on and off in patterns, and watching for a matching light off in the distance doing the same thing, and taking notes.

Eventually, Glen steps back from the semaphore, stretches, and tells Mab, "Good news. We're to scavenge this location, take a quick look around for other landmarks, and then make all speed for the city with you."

She breathes out a bit of sigh. 

"I'm glad. Thank you. 

"I don't really have more to say on the location and surroundings, but if there's any way I can help, I will."

"I can't think of anything that shouldn't wait for the city. You may as well rest until we're ready to go. It won't be a fun trip if you're not used to sleds."

Nod. "All right. Better that I'm warned instead of being surprised by it, at least. I'll go wait back inside, if there's nothing else I should do?"

"If we were going to be here for hours, I'd have work or questions for you. But as it is now, I really can't think of anything. Feel free to go."

It's still cold inside the building, but the fur helps a lot. The scouts scurry around loading cans. One of the sled dogs stares at her. And soon it's time to go.

"I think we'll have to, uh, tie you to a sled. There's standing room for five. Unless you want to walk."

"That might make a bit of a delay. No, it's all right, please do whatever's necessary. Just tell me what I need to do to make this work."

They do their best to make her comfortable, strapped in between crates and supplies. The five scouts all ride the sleds standing, directing their dogs. It's kind of bumpy, but not actually that cold.

This sure is a lot of frozen wasteland, though, isn't it?

Yep. 

As unfortunate as her predicament is, she can at least count herself lucky she appeared near some sort of landmark.

Mabel composes a list of questions in her head and reviews her memory of the Standard Book of Spells and marvels at the sheer abundance of bleak frozen wasteland. 

They make straight for the light in the sky. Turns out it's a balloon. As they come over the last rise and slow down, she can see a slightly sprawling city of tents and a few ramshackle houses, surrounded by other buildings, and all centered around a giant metal structure emitting steady gouts of steam. "Welcome to New Home."

Everything is -

It's a little like seeing Hogwarts for the first time. Everything is different, in both the grand and the details. She looks from building to building, house to house, back to the metal structure, trying to take in the influx of new information.

"I'm glad to be able to see it. It's - impressive." After a pause, she points at the metal structure. "What is that?"

"It's the Generator! A marvel of modern engineering! The centerpiece and beating heart of a city meant to endure the winter! They designed them based on heavily modified locomotives. We fuel it with coal from the deposits the city sits on. The fires inside produce high pressure steam, which is distributed around the city to provide motive force and warmth. Without it, we would likely all be doomed in this cold. Now, let's go, to the outpost station! They'll take and distribute what we scavenged, and there's an elevator down. The low entrances aren't fun to hike down, let me tell you."

"I've never seen anything like it. I can't say I know a lot about engineering, but I can only imagine the work that went into it. And of course, please lead the way."

She follows whoever seems to be heading to the outpost station.

They're all heading there. The dogs seem happy and excited, recognizing the place of warm, food, and rest.

Two other people meet them at the outpost station. "Welcome back all! And to miss Mab, welcome for the first time. I'm told you have important information or something for the Captain to hear. But first, do you need anything? Food? You're not sick or injured?

"No, I'm fine, but thank you for asking."

"Good, good. Er, I'm Harold, nice to meet you. Especially since you were lost in the cold... Let's get you to the Captain, then?" He makes a hand motion to the cargo elevator.

"It's nice to meet you too, Harold. I'm pretty glad to not be lost in the cold, too."

Into the cargo elevator she goes.

And down the cliff face they go. There are men and women at work here and there - sawmills, steel mills, some kind of coal mining thing? It's certainly industrial-looking. "I don't recognize you. They - er. They found you in an empty cannery. Were you with the scout corps?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't, but it's sort of complicated how I ended up in that cannery and I probably shouldn't try to explain it in the elevator. All in all, I'm just glad I was found, really. It seems like if the scouts had gone later or earlier or somewhere different, I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"Maybe you would have seen the Beacon and found us - Well. I don't know for sure. Hold on to something-" CLANG. The elevator reaches bottom a bit roughly. "-Yeah. It's safe, and smoothing out the elevator ride is so far down on our priority list I'm not sure we'll ever get to it. Come along, then. Workshops are near the Generator."

At ground level this place looks more like the badly outdated Muggle Studies curriculum paints the muggles. There is a street of wooden boards, lined with pipes, heading towards the Generator. There are buildings here and there, covered in snow, most of them vaguely ramshackle when they aren't literally just tents with a few timbers holding them up a bit.

She sees that the Muggle Studies curriculum has found its true home.

"I've heard a bit about the Captain, but I don't really know what he's like or how things work around here. Is there anything in particular I should avoid doing?"

"Oh! Well, he's a good guy. He was a union head, and I think that says a lot. He organized the evacuation after we learned about the Lords' lies, and, well, he never got elected or anything, but nobody's about to make an issue of it. He makes... Hard choices for us. Hard choices have to be made sometimes. They've panned out so far. Perhaps, try not to judge him for any of it. We've got high hopes, but we have not had an easy time, ma'am."

They pass a tall watch tower, a searchlight mounted in it making rounds over the crowded city. There are a few other people in the street here. Mostly children. Everyone is rather subdued.

"I'm sorry that's the case. 

"What would you say are the - worst, or most urgent - troubles that people are facing?"

"Well, miss. There are a lot of them, many of which you seem to have been lucky enough to escape thus far. Look around you. The cold! The hunger! And sickness. Hard shifts. No chance to unwind. And the worries about what comes next... And the Lords. As for me, one day at a time, one shift at a time."

"It's fair to say I've been pretty lucky. I might be able to help with some of your troubles, and I'd like to, but it isn't as clear what to focus on looking in from the outside, as a newcomer."

She frowns.

"- oh, and 'scuse me for going off-topic for a moment, but... do you happen to know the date?"

"It is June Third, 1887. And here we are, workshop number two. The Captain is in here."

1887. That explains... some things. And opens up more questions on others.

She looks to Harold for whatever one does upon accessing a Captain-containing workshop.

He goes inside. It certainly looks workshoppy! Tools and contraptions here and there, wide drafting boards with blueprints on them. A couple of people look at them. "Harold! And our new visitor. I'll go get the captain." He rushes off upstairs.

Another man asks, "Harold, see what I've gotten for the steel mill..."

"Yes, of course. Just wait a moment, Miss Mab."

And then she is alone in the middle of a semi-bustling 1887 workshop for a little while.

And then the Captain comes down. Wearing similar clothes to the others, but also wearing a distinctive red scarf-thing. "Miss Mabel! I am Theodore Bolard, but everyone probably has been calling me 'the Captain', yes? I gather we have a lot to talk about."

Pseudo-time-travel: a novel experience.

"Yes, that seems the shape of it - I'm not sure how much you've heard already?"

"You have paranormal abilities including fuel-less fire and enlarging objects, and were able to prove them to first inspection to Glen, who I know as a man not prone to flights of fancy. You claim to be capable of more. I think I'd like proof, myself. Shall we go upstairs? I've set aside a workspace for this."

"Of course."

"What other sorts of abilities do you have?"

And upstairs are more bustling engineery types working on things, including a sputtering engine producing a bit of smoke in the corner. He indicates a door to a side room. "Fireproofing and scientific instruments are in there. I can find a chaperone if you wish, though we've more or less cast aside the usual rules of propriety, given the current situation."

"It's not customary where I'm from either, so I don't mind. My - please excuse me using the word 'magic' - is broad enough that I can't really rattle off all the specific capabilities in a timely sort of way, but in general I can make animals or objects larger or smaller, apply force to move or destroy something, apply effects like unconsciousness or a colour change, make some minor tasks perform themselves... I can change some things into some other things, but not all things into all things. I can vanish objects. I can do one thing at a time and it's usually a small- to medium-sized sort of thing, since I'm not all that experienced yet, although there are exceptions. This isn't an exhaustive list."

He heads into the side room. "I... See. The most urgent question, I think, is can you do something about our rapidly diminishing coal supply?"

"I could make the pieces of coal you have larger. I could also duplicate some coal and the doubles would wear down faster, but I suppose it might not matter very much if they'll be burned all the same."

"That would be helpful! It sounds like it'd be inherently a stopgap sort of thing - but half of what we're doing is - hmm. Before I speculate some more, could you please repeat the demonstrations you gave Glen?"

She repeats the fuelless-fire-in-the-air demonstration, incantation and wand movement, leaving a little circle drawn in fire floating before her.

"Do you have a small object I could use?"

That does indeed appear to be fuel-less fire. He tosses a finger-sized piece of irregularly-shaped sheet metal to her. "Oh, also, welcome and all that. If you need food or somewhere to rest, I can certainly arrange that for you in a bit."

She catches the metal and is moderately pleased with herself for doing so. Engorgement Charm is applied. The finger-sized piece of metal becomes closer to hand-length, and she offers it back.

"I think I could eat soon, although it's not urgent. Do you happen to know the time?"

He starts turning it over in his hands. He gets a balance and weighs it. "It's about three in the afternoon. The scouts found you at about eleven A.M. if I have the timeline right. And there's basically no reasonable explanation for this except that you do indeed have magic powers. Christ. I think I'll mostly trust you on the extent of them."

"Mmm. Wasn't exactly an average afternoon when I found out, either, but five years takes a bit from the novelty. I promise to be as trustworthy a source as I can manage, but I'm not about to be offended at having to prove my word."

"Well, the thing is, I need to go about extracting maximum usefulness out of you as quickly as possible for the sake of the seven hundred and forty nine - seven fifty flat, now, with you - souls living here. And I do worry that will make me seem like an uncaring autocrat or manipulative politician. Thus, explaining my reasons, that being that people are going to die if things go too badly. Have died."

"Well, you don't come across to me like an uncaring autocrat or manipulative politician, and I've met people I might call either if they were a bit older. I have absolutely no complaints about being maximally useful for stopping people from dying."

"Well, that is good news. Do you think you can heal frostbite? How long will these flames last? Can you improve plant growth in any way? Our greenhouses are small and yet demand lots of steam and advanced components."

"I do know something for minor injuries, but I haven't tried it on frostbite before. These flames won't stick longer than a couple hours and they were really made for writing, not light or heat, but there are other ways to make either or to start fires. I can make a plant at a time have a growth spurt."

"We have a fair number of sick people, we have a lot of cold people, and we only have a few hungry people for now, though food stores are low. I think cold is the first priority. A long-term solution is obviously better than a temporary one, which duplicated coal would be. We're working on better insulation and steam efficiency here in between other projects, but if your... Magic... Can create long-term heat sources, insulation, protection from the wind, or accomplish something similar, that will probably remove much of the urgency there."

"I could make a fire that doesn't consume fuel, and refresh it from time to time, although proper everlasting fire is beyond what I can do. There are some ways to ward an area I can try, but I don't know any I'd call an improvement over actual construction for blocking wind. I'll tell you if I think of something else, not everything that could be useful is coming to mind immediately.

"- I should probably mention that my world is in the early twenty-first century. I'm still very much not an engineer, and this isn't quite the 1887 I remember from history, but I can try describing a century and change's worth of discoveries if you think that might help."

"We should arrange tests - see how long and how hot one everlasting fire is, and how much coal you can make how quickly, and determine which is more efficient. Same with the healing and the plants. Not the specific test, but getting an idea of it. Hmm. Talking about technological advances could quite plausibly help. Though there is a significant gap between knowing something is possible and knowing how to do it, and giving no offense, you do not seem to be a specialized engineer."

"No offence taken. What would you say is the - general state of technology, currently? I have the impression that steampower is common?"

"Steam power is common. We have... Power tools, engines, airships, medicinal techniques like antibiotics and vitamin supplements. Electrical lights, speakers, and motors, and a few crude other devices - I know there's a lot of potential there, but the stuff is the devil to work with. The Generator is about high pressure and efficient heat distribution... We have telescopes, barometers, and such scientific instruments... There's the Automatons. We don't have any, but we have the plans for them. They'll be mostly-automated steam powered machines that can work as hard as ten men, around the clock, though we'll have to feed them coal and they can only perform simple tasks that you would call manual labor. Sawing trees, gathering coal, that sort of thing."

"I'm familiar with airships gradually being replaced by airplanes after a series of attention-grabbing disasters. Electricity can be very useful but I don't know that I can help you very much with it - what makes it difficult to work with right now? In non-magical world where I'm from, machines - you could call them automatons - can perform more complex sorts of tasks, process more complicated information. I don't know much of how that works either but I think it's based in - being able to perform math very quickly, being able to receive and store and spit out numbers and turn them into actions."

"Mathematical calculation is not exactly how automatons work. As for electricity, it's phenomenally dangerous, mostly. Hmm. What is an airplane?"

"For electricity, is the problem - people being shocked, fires? An airplane is a sort of flying vehicle. Usually it has engine-powered - propellers, turbines - to push it forward, and wings - fixed wings - that are shaped so that they push the plane up when air flows past them, enough to let it fly if it's light and fast enough."

"People being shocked, it's hard to predict when electricity will short or create dangerous voltages, it's hard to safely insulate wiring, it's overall hard and we don't understand it too well yet. Honestly airplanes sound about five times more dangerous than airships."

"They're generally faster and very safe when made to be, but I think the early ones did have a habit of crashing, and I don't think I can tell you enough to get you past that awkward stage. I would really like help you with electricity, but I'm not sure how... how are you generating it, what are you using for insulation?"

"Steam driving magnets inside wire coils. We've tried lots of things - silk works reasonably well but we kind of don't have any up here. Glass, ceramics, and wax, too, and they all have their own disadvantages."

"We use - plastic, it's called, a sort of thing refined from oil, and rubber for a while too, but it doesn't seem like you could get any up here that you don't have already. I'd offer to try Transfiguring some of what you're missing, but I've been warned very direly to never experiment with Transfiguration... if you have an excess of any junk objects or, I don't know, beetles, I can practice some of what I already know and pick out whatever's useful from the results. That reminds me I can turn things to stone or glue them very securely, if it helps anything, but that's a bit less directly related to electricity."

"Stone and strong fastening could be useful, I will keep it in mind! I will also keep in mind transfiguration for any definitely useless junk we acquire. Would you mind if we get to it and organize tests of lasting fire and coal-duplicating and do some math now?"

"I don't mind, it sounds very interesting. I had a friend who tried to do something like that but I don't think he had enough - background - to get much out of it."

"Well, I can explain what I'm thinking and what we're testing as I go. That often helps when I start thinking in circles, anyway."

And they can go do science to magic! Focusing on the immediately useful, not basic principles, for now though. It turns out that duplicating and enlarging chunks of coal is more efficient in terms of Mabel's time and energy than magical fires.

"Not as good for air pollution, but that is about a hundred items down the list of priorities right now. How do you feel about a half-shift of this as work, tomorrow? That will be enough coal that I can slosh around the shifts some, take people out of the coal mines and put them in greenhouses and infirmaries and help deal with the other looming resource issues."

If only they could miraculously greenhouse-effect their way into not being frozen.

"I'm perfectly all right with that - I don't actually know how long your shifts are but I assume it's not an absolutely ridiculous amount of time."

"A full shift is eight to noon, half hour break for lunch, twelve-thirty to six. We had to do extended shifts for a while - six AM to eight PM - but thankfully that is no longer necessary for most jobs, and I try to rotate the people taking hard shifts."

"That's fine. I'm glad to be able to help."

"I'm sure I appreciate it. I'll make sure you have one of the better rooms, and get food first. If you need something else, we can try to figure something out. It's not even favoritism so much as safeguarding useful skills."

Obviously the best result would be not having been eaten by a mirrorsnake, but as far as alternatives go, it could be worse.

"I'm not picky as long as I can get by. Thank you." Pause. "Oh, and not that I expect it to come up very often, but if someone finds my wand -" she gestures at it "- unattended, say in my room or left on a table, then I would really recommend leaving it, since they've been known to fling non-magical people into walls when waved by them."

"...Noted. I will spread the word not to touch the wand."

"In theory just holding it should be safe, but wands might have very generous definitions of 'wave'. Is there anything else we should talk about? - immediately, I mean, not in general."

"As I said, no touching the wand, to be safe. Nothing immediate that I can think of - more test ideas, but that can wait - perhaps I should introduce you around, but at your preference."

"I do like to meet new people."

Theodore introduces her to various people, mostly by their titles. Head Doctor, Cook Supervisor, Head Metallurgist, Head of Construction, Head of Security, Labour Representative - they're all kind of tired and blur together just a bit. He doesn't explain magic to them in so many words, except for a whispered conversation with the Security guy. Security guy promises to keep people away from Mab's room and warn anyone who might go in there about the wand.

Mabel meets people! Meeting people is important. She makes sure to thank the security guy.

The edges of introductions aren't quite clear. She gets the feeling she's straining her remembering-people capacity for the day. "What time is it now, do you know?"

"Almost six, now. Dinner time. And then resting time."

"Where do people normally eat?"

"I'll escort you to the cookhouse. The menu is remnants of His Majesty's Finest Canned Beans And Tinned Biscuits, plus locally grown potatoes, greens, and legumes, and if we're lucky perhaps a bit of meat, the origins of which it may be best not to worry too much about."

They have to go out in the cold cold cold again to get to the cookhouse, but it seems that the inner city is at least a bit warmer than the open snowfield, with heat leaking from the buildings and radiating from the Generator, and the wind being mostly blocked.

The cookhouse is crowded and loud but contains hot food and slightly ramshackle cafeteria style tables!

Hot food is a wonderful thing. She goes about acquiring some and sees if she can catch a glimpse of anyone she knows.

Glen, the boss of the little scouting expedition that found her, is talking to Cooper, the guy who takes care of the dogs, all the way on the far side of the place.

She makes her way over to them.

"Can't do it. Dogs don't think like that."

"Look, all I'm asking is-"

"No. Not possible. They's trained but they's still animals."

"It's just-"

"No." Cooper takes a bite of his food, totally calm.

Glen sighs, then notices Mabel. "Oh, hello again. Did you manage to see the Captain?"

"I did! He seemed very reasonable, and it's good to have more of my situation sorted out. Sorry to interrupt your talk, you were saying about dogs - ?"

Cooper shoots an annoyed glance. "No."

"Well, apparently I was wrong."

"He want the dogs to behave like automata, not living creatures. Sit still, be quiet, go in straight line. Will not happen."

"I've never been around dogs very much. A lot of birds and cats. Dogs always seemed - friendlier, in a way. Is the way they're acting causing problems?"

"No, no, no. They're fine. Just- Fine. It's all fine!"

"House dogs are nice, fluffy, stupid creatures. Sled dogs are not as nice."

"As far as animals with jobs go, I knew a very mean cat, but I'm guessing dogs do less prowling about and terrifying schoolchildren."

"Sled dogs are not mean, but they're not nice either. They don't know their own strength sometimes. They get spooked or upset and bite. Helps if they know you." Cooper shrugs. 

Glen taps his foot rapidly and comments, "I'm not sure we actually have any cats. I hope we do. They kill rats if nothing else, and I would be deeply surprised if none of those bloody things came along for the ride."

"The dogs sound a bit like - horses, maybe, where you have to know how to handle them. Although obviously what they really are is dogs, I'm just trying to compare... And wouldn't surprise me either, most of the cats I've met have been ancient and battle-scarred and scary smart. Maybe they don't have nine lives, but sometimes they really seem like they do."

"Never worked with horses," Cooper comments. "Too cold for them up here."

Glen shrugs. "I suppose they're going to put you to, ah, specialized work tomorrow, Miss Mabel?"

"Yes, that's right. I'm glad everything was worked out so quickly."

"We have to be efficient, if nothing else, under these conditions. I'm sure you'll contribute very well."

"Thank you, I hope so too."

"We'll be heading back out to scout and scavenge some more in a day or two. I'll be glad for a proper bed while I can have it, I'll admit."

"I'm glad there are people who do that job, and not only because you found me.

"-- oh, that reminds me, I really should've asked this before, but what's this general region called?"

"We've been calling it the Frostlands. I believe it's technically northern Canada?"

...makes sense, but also, what the heck portalsnake.

"Good to know. Frostlands suits it." And probably a decent chunk of the rest of the world too, but no one said place names had to be distinctive.

Mabel notices that she hasn't actually eaten anything and starts correcting that.

Dinner finishes up pretty quickly after that.

Some people stay to chat to each other, but Glen excuses himself to go crash into a bed. Cooper nods at her and suggests that maybe she can meet the dogs better some time, when everything's not so rushed, then walks away without another word or even a goodbye.

Meeting people is really just like opening a box of Every Flavour Beans.

Mabel sticks around for a bit, but it's been a long day; soon enough she goes to find her room and crash for the night. 

A no-nonsense woman, Mary Sheffield, one of the Captain's assistants, shows her there and explains the minimal utilities (just a water tap and a radiator, really). It's nicer than most of the other buildings around.

"We're working on getting enough real houses for everyone. Children and cripples first, then engineers and other highly skilled personnel, then everyone else. If you have an issue with it let me know tomorrow. Sorry to be abrupt, but I have more work to do. Goodnight."

"Night!"

She tests the flexibility of her wand and decides it's safe to stow under her pillow, then turns in for the night. 

The city goes to sleep around her. The winds buffet the house, making ominous noises. The radiator hums, keeping the cold at bay.

The next morning a loud foghorn sounds just before dawn, and someone's voice echoes over the city, "Six in the morning! Time to get up and prepare for the day!"

For a moment she's surprised not to be at Hogwarts.

Mabel does not dispute the echoing voice's assertion, although she's sleepy enough that she'd dearly like to. She gets up and splashes some water on her face and eventually peeks out the door to see where everyone's heading.

Everyone else seems to still be getting up, getting dressed, cleaning up, and the like. One woman has a mechanical leg which gives her a bit of a limp. They're speaking in low voices. "Another day, another shift. A day off is too much to ask for, I suppose."

"Well, we're not dead yet, so there's that."

"True enough."

She can't really dispute that either.

Mabel performs the miscellaneous morning tasks of getting dressed and cleaning up and otherwise making herself presentable, wishing she'd inquired more closely about the schedule yesterday. She tries to be quick. Occasionally she checks out the door again to gauge if people have started moving along.

People aren't in that much of a rush, it seems.

After a while, that administrator lady from yesterday, Mary Sheffield, comes and gets her. "Work starts at eight, so by getting up at six everyone has a couple of hours to wake up, eat, talk and relax however much they can, bring up any concerns to the administration, and so on. Six-thirty, now. I'm to show you the coal piles when work starts, and introduce you to the workers operating the generator. Do you want to get breakfast now, see the Captain again? Anything you'd like that I can do to help you settle in, here."

"I'd like to get breakfast now, if it's not too much trouble. And there's something I've been meaning to ask - how, hmm, freely known are my abilities? I'm not quite sure how much to explain if it comes up."

"We've been trying to keep it relatively quiet. People will gossip, but everyone's busy, so it doesn't go as far. And if we don't confirm it, it's just a strange rumor, along with all the others. You're getting a bit of preferential treatment, so some folk might be a bit jealous. If you want to - hmm, publicize it - we'd want to control how that happens if possible. But the current idea is to let the idea filter out slowly, tell individual people, let them gossip, and then announce it some time when not everybody will be shocked all at once. After you've proven useful, too, is a factor. The official story is that you have special skills that make your time of high value."

"Alright. I do plan on - living up to the story.  Is there likely to be any sort of backlash over the truth? I get the sense it's the sort of thing that - people really don't expect to exist."

"I'm... Not sure. I don't know anyone who I think would react badly, but there might be someone... But we do have a police force, anyway. The guards were hand-picked by the Captain. If you feel unsafe, of course, defend yourself, and the police will look out for you too. I should probably, er, introduce you, though."

"That's good to know, and I won't say no to an introduction."

Then she can get breakfast, and then be introduced to the chief of the guards, a large and fit man who grins wide at her and shakes her hand. "So this is the new special someone! Marion Kant, at your service."

She smiles back. "Mabel Caldwell, very new, forgive me if I fumble your name at some point. It's nice to meet you. I haven't heard a lot about you, but I'm sure it would be good if I had."

"Aye, you're new to us all around here. We'll be doing our best to welcome you. I hear you have some kind of... What did he even call it? Anomalous ability?"

"I know some tricks, but it's figuring out how to get the most use out of them that's the important part."

"Well, our Captain's a diligent and clever man. Bet we'd all be frozen solid in London if not for him."

"I think not sailing off and abandoning your people is important in a leader and he doesn't seem like the type to do that at all. I'm sorry to hear you used to be ruled by people who would."

He shrugs and grimaces. "The Lords were gits, but I don't think it's quite that simple. Fear does terrible things to you, and I'd know. Fought the French. The front lines make you desperate, stupid. This winter's the same. But all we can do is our best, aye?"

"Aye," she agrees. "How long has the world - been like this?"

"It's been... Four, five months since it got really bad? Yeah, about that long."

"Anyone have an idea about why?"

"Didn't the scouts find something about volcanoes?"

"Yeah. But I don't know if it's true or not."

"Sorry, we don't really know. Everything fell apart pretty quick."

"It's hard to imagine. I'm glad you were able to - build something organized, here. Do you know how the rest of the world is doing?"

"We have no idea whatsoever, unfortunately. I know the equatorial regions were even less prepared than our Lords were... I know there were supposed to be hundreds of these cities, hundreds of generators... But we don't know. That's part of why we have the scouts looking around."

"When you say supposed to... how far in advance did anyone know about what was going to happen? How long did you have the Generators?"

"Sorry, you'll have to ask the Captain that one. I just know that it's been maybe two months since the Lords got worryingly paranoid and controlling, and three weeks since the big escape."

"How did power work, before - was it mostly only the Lords who governed, or were there others?"

"Lords, rich people generally, the police, the army brass... I was more in charge than most, but still answered to a lot of folks."

"Could you tell me more about how the big escape happened? What went on in between people finding out and them stealing the boats?"

"I'll tell it from my perspective. I don't think anybody has the full story. So one day the Lords handed out guns to everyone they thought was loyal - what was left of the local police included. We were told to 'subdue the rioters' and 'restore order so the city can survive'. But we knew something was seriously wrong by then, so we argued. They wouldn't budge. Sent us out and told us we'd get lynched if we didn't disperse the budding riot. Then, they tried to head for their ocean liner. Sounded like it wasn't quite ready but they were running for it, thinking staying any longer was too risky. Someone overheard them heading out and the rumor spread like wildfire. Then the mob came, and us guards and police... Tried to talk them down, but not very hard, then most of us joined them. Some stuff started burning, some people started shooting. I ended up guarding four families huddled in a janitor's closet until a friend of mine found us and told me the Lords were gone and there were commandeered evacuation ships for all us workers, but we had to go now, no going home to pack or anything, since some kind of storm was coming. And then we ran and got on the boats, and came up here."

She listens intently, then nods. "Thank you for your story. I don't know very much about what's happened here, so I'm trying to ask the right questions to build a picture. I heard rumours about the Lords trying to come here with weapons - is something like that is likely to be happening?"

"...Well, I don't want to frighten you, but they definitely had some. The Royal Navy had quite a lot of guns. I don't know if they'll manage to bring those if they're following us. We'll hopefully find them before they find us and we can figure out what to do then."

Hmm. "What sorts of resources do we have, if it comes to blows?"

His expression closes down. "Well I'd say you let us worry about that. We'll deal with it. Unless the Captain says otherwise, that is. You'd better go grab some breakfast and eat up - shift's starting up soon."

She… looks worried for a moment, then nods. "All right. Thanks for talking with me, Mr. Kant. I'll see you around."

Quickly digging into her untouched breakfast, she looks around for Mary Sheffield.

She's talking with the cooks and writing on a clipboard.

"-Last of the biscuits, just to get them out of the way. It won't affect the perishables schedule, we're making sure you get the oldest stuff first."

She eats her breakfast and waits for the conversation to end.

The conversation ends soon after that. Mary takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, leaning against a wall, for a moment.

"Sorry to bother you. Is this a bad time?"

Awake again. "No, not at all. You're perfectly fine. What do you need? Are you ready to get to work soon?"

"I am! You mentioned you would show me where?"

"Of course. The main coal feed for the Generator-"

She adjusts her coat and heads outside, heading towards the towering structure in the center of the city.

Mabel follows her towards the Generator.

They're going against most of the crowd - mostly, people are heading towards the outer areas of the city. Housing and a few facilities in the center, workplaces further away, seems to be the layout. It's still cold, so they walk quickly.

"Thank you again for being willing to help. I'm sure the Captain will want to see about other applications soon, but putting pressure off our immediate needs is necessary if we want to recover - statistically, a five degree increase in how hot we can run the generator will probably save at least one life and prevent upwards of forty cases of illness."

"It's no trouble for me. If it helps people, then that's what matters." She grits her teeth against the cold. "Which sorts of illness are the most common?"

"Frostbite. Flu and colds. Cholera - cholera is troublesome but we've gotten good at finding the source. A few others."