Rovan received him in a room full of small machines.
They stood on shelves behind glass: pumps, water wheels, lifting frames and little walking models whose feet had been made from brass. Some were old enough for their wood to have darkened almost black. Others carried recent repairs in brighter metal.
Iven stopped before a model of a counterbalanced lift.
Rovan noticed.
“Go on.”
“Does it work?”
“Better than the original did.”
“That isn’t always praise.”
