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MAG 116 - The Show Must Go On
The Magnus Archives
The Mechanical Turk
Every seat in the theatre had a small metal cage, within which hung a minute mechanical bird. The angles of the creatures had been worked to a razor's sharpness and there was something in the metal orbs that stood for eyes that I could not bring myself to look at. Then all eyes fell upon a figure in the centre of the stage who looked out over the assembled crowd. Its coat was not as I had seen it, the fine fur now gone, and in its stead something hairy, coarse and brown,. There was a single nod, and a crack like brittle steel, and every false bird began to sing. It was not the gentle chimes of a hidden music-box, rather
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