The Tinker King

by Tiffany Trent

  “You do realize that an army of unstoppable demonic spiders is coming toward us as fast as it possibly can?” Bayne asks. “I sincerely hope your demonstration contains something that will deal with that!”

  Tesla looks over at Charles, gauging how much he should say. “We shall see tomorrow.”

  “I believe the Saint was about to tell us how he came to be here,” Olivia says.

  Tesla smiles briefly. “I am certainly no Saint, Majesty. I am, in fact, the humblest of sinners. But the reasons I came here are simple. Charles sought me out and told me of this world with its vast resources and untold wealth. He assured me that I would have freedom such as I have never known to create the visions that have entered my head since I was a child. All I had to do was find a way to bring us here—”

  “And so you did,” Bayne interrupts. “And now you are here.”

  Tesla seems bewildered at the acidity of Bayne’s tone.

  “Lord Duke,” Olivia murmurs at him. It is an odd thing to hear her say.

  “My apologies, sir,” Bayne says. “I feel fairly certain you are a victim in this elaborate game Charles is playing. Have you any notion of what he did in order to bring you here? How he nearly destroyed this world for his own selfish gain before he arrived in yours?”

  Charles’s expression is an interesting mixture of resentment and contrition. It’s rather like watching a snake turning itself inside out as it tries to shed its skin. I can’t help but be reminded of when Bayne baited Ximu to find out her plans, and it seems he is now intent on doing the same with Charles. I wonder if Charles can hold out better than she did.

  “I have told him of what happened to me, yes. Of how I was enslaved by the Grue and the consequences of that,” Charles says slowly.

  “So, I am deeply curious, if Old London was the balm to cure all ills, why return, Charles? There must have been some reason,” Bayne says.

  Charles runs a hand through his hair. Somehow he looks much less threatening without the signet ring. “Well,” he says, “because this is home.”

  “Ah yes. Home.” Bayne’s gaze could boil the air.

  “I understand that you don’t believe me, my Lord. I hardly believe it myself. But I ask you to consider: What would you have done had you been in my position? Truly we come from entirely different worlds. I was born a tanner’s son in the worst part of Lowtown. You were heir to the second-most-powerful family in all the realm. You had more power than you fathomed until it was taken away. I had never had any but was offered it beyond my wildest imaginings. I think you would have done exactly as I had if you’d been born in my circumstances.”

  Bayne stands. “I would never have done as you did, Charles. Never.”

  Charles’s smile is so sharp, it could cut. “Then let us hope you never meet anyone who offers you such power, lest you be proven wrong.” He looks at the ring on Bayne’s finger, and Bayne’s face goes a deep shade of red.

  Bayne turns to Olivia. “If I may have your leave, Majesty.”

  “Granted, my Lord. Albeit with a bit of displeasure.”

  Bayne bows. “My apologies, Majesty, but thank you.”

  He storms from the room. I want to follow him, but I don’t want to leave Olivia and Vespa alone with Charles.

  Tesla settles in next to me. It’s going to be a long evening.

  When at last we’re released, I make sure Olivia and Vespa are returned to their rooms safely.

  “I must speak with you,” Vespa says.

  She brings me into her room and shuts the door. It feels odd being here in this vaulting room, rather than in our old parlor with its threadbare settee.

  “I’m listening,” I say.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asks. “You look well.” I can tell she’s admiring the uncomfortable suit, and it makes me blush.

  I feel that things aren’t entirely right with me, but I have no idea how to describe it. Physically I’m well. But inside there’s something dark, a hole I’m desperate to shut away. “I’m fine, I suppose,” I say.

  “You’re sure nothing’s wrong? No lasting effects from Ximu’s venom?”

  Her scrutiny is making me nervous. “No,” I say, even though I feel like I’m lying. “Why are you asking?”

  “Well, I think something’s still wrong with Olivia, and I was worried that you might still be feeling ill as well. Have you noticed anything strange?”

  “Not with me. What do you mean about Olivia?”

  “When you were captured, Doctor Parnassus came to see Olivia. He told us something odd. He said that we should find you as quickly as possible because only an Artificer could save her. Have you any idea what that means?”

  I’ve been standing against a pillar, but I feel I need more support. I slump into a nearby chair. “Only an Artificer can save her? That’s all he said?”

  “Yes. He said he couldn’t say more; it would violate the sacred trust he has with his patients. I’ve thought about it ever since. I wondered if you had any ideas as to what he means.”

  A vision rises behind my eyes, that same vision of a silver army marching through Scientia. “No,” I say. “I truly don’t know.” I look at her. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  Her face falls. “I just . . . I didn’t know what the Doctor meant. I was trying to figure it out for myself.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You seem to do that far too often.” Anger is boiling inside me, but I know it does no good. There is far too much to worry over to waste time quibbling.

  She opens her mouth as if to defend herself, and then seems to have the same realization. She spreads her hands apologetically. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m weak. I want to be able to do things for myself.”

  “Even when someone tells you that perhaps you can’t?”

  She nods, looking me in the eye. “Even so.”

  I sigh. “Perhaps this will teach you to let go of that notion. I could have been trying to help you long before now.”

  She smiles, but it’s bitter and unsure. “I will take that under advisement.” She pauses for a bit, and then says, “You said that your people believe Ximu’s poison gives visions. I remember you saying before that the airship was going down, and it did. And I wondered if you’d seen anything, anything at all, that might help Olivia.”

  I shake my head. I can’t say anything for the fear growing in my chest. Something is very, very wrong.

  Vespa pats me on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’m sure you’re as exhausted as any of us. Maybe the answers will come tomorrow.” She smiles wearily, and I try to smile back.

  But the foreboding will not leave my heart. Something is wrong with Olivia.

  I ask Truffler and Piskel to keep watch over Vespa and Olivia. I still have my misgivings about Charles’s intentions.

  And I admit I’d like to wander on my own for a little while. The sense of foreboding is lodged firmly in that dark place in my soul. I do not want to go to sleep for fear of what will be waiting when I close my eyes.

  I distract myself with the Bone Palace. There is much to learn about this ivory maze and its broad halls. The fact that Charles allows us to roam it relatively freely surprises me, but then again as I see the servants watching me, I suppose his spies are everywhere. And I am not hard to spot.

  It will be good to explore and try to do something useful to stop thinking about the dinner. While I think perhaps I could ultimately like Tesla, perhaps even learn from him, I’m not sure I can trust him with his obvious allegiance to Charles. And Charles . . . who knows what that snake is planning? He’s slipperier than an enchanted eel.

  Bayne mentioned the palace is haunted, and it may very well be, but I’m more interested in knowing how its history is inscribed in its bones. To me, it’s a place of legend; I scarcely believed it could be real. And yet here it is—the Bone Palace of Nainai’s tales.

  The deeper I pass within, the more I get the feeling that I’m traveling back through time. Eventuall
y, I can see where the new additions of Wyvern motifs end and old Tinker architecture begins. Ximu had said she’d built this place at the foundation of the world, and I could believe it. But my people had made it not just a spider’s den but a palace of wonders.

  Finally, I pass to where there are no everlanterns. It is nearly pitch-dark, except where the corridor opens out on terraces that overlook vacant courtyards. The moon is sailing overhead, and that naturally calls to the hound in me. For once, rather than shifting in anger or fear, I simply slide out of my human skin and into my fur and leap down the steps into the light. I chase at shadows, trying to pretend overcoming every darkness is this easy, when I feel something watching me. I catch a scent on the night breeze and turn.

  A black wolf is sitting on the stairs. I stop and stare back at him, unsure as to whether he’s friend or foe.

  He leaps down, and my hackles rise at his approach. He comes to me, ears erect, tail stiff. Closer and his scent washes over me. He is not entirely wolf. I have never met another of my kind before while I’ve been in houndshape. Certainly I’ve known that some must be out there, but I’ve never sought them out, afraid of a confrontation I didn’t want to have. This wolf seems merely curious.

  And then he nips at my shoulder and takes off. I yelp, mostly in surprise rather than pain. When I look around, he’s waiting on me, tongue lolling. He bows, clearly inviting me to play, and dashes off.

  I stare. Of all the things that have been strange these last few days, this is perhaps the strangest. And yet I can’t resist. I dart toward him, and together we run back and forth across the courtyard, our barks and growls echoing against the stone as we nip and leap and give chase, dancing between urns and statues, skipping through moonshadow.

  At last we fall together into a heap of heaving sides and twitching paws. I rise up, desperate to ask who he is and how he came here.

  He looks at me with one last amber gaze before he melts into darkness.

  The hound slides away from me, and I’m left standing naked and cold on the courtyard stones.

  “Who are you?” I say to the silence, though I’m sure I already know.

  Nothing answers.

  CHAPTER 20

  After she said good-night to Syrus, Vespa turned to Truffler.

  “Truffler, do you think you could find something for me?”

  Truffler nodded slowly with a definite look of trepidation.

  “Let’s see if we can find a library.”

  Truffler looked at her quizzically, but he didn’t ask. He’d learned not to.

  She opened the door and peeked out, half expecting a guard or something equally unpleasant. But the halls echoed with the whispered silence of servants going about their work and the hum of everlanterns circulating above.

  Truffler took a deep whiff. “This way,” he said, gesturing off to the right.

  Vespa followed him through corridors, up and down stairs, past courtyards, beyond all recognition or sense. She had no idea how anyone found their way through it, much less out of it.

  She had been deeply worried tonight when she’d seen Olivia. The Empress had tried to hide her throat with a shawl, but as she’d shifted, Vespa had seen the ugly, raw wound that slipped along her collarbone. She was even more worried at Syrus’s reaction to her questions. Though she didn’t necessarily think he was lying to her, she had a feeling that he knew something he wasn’t telling. She’d try again with him, but for now she wanted to see if she could find some help on her own.

  Doctor Parnassus had said they needed an Artificer to heal Olivia, but Vespa wondered if perhaps there wasn’t some stronger magic they hadn’t tried that she could call upon. There must be something that could be done. Perhaps here in Ximu’s ancestral home some ancient cure might be found.

  At last Truffler led her to a set of wooden double doors between ivory pillars. She could smell the books already. She touched the door handles and brought her stinging fingers up to her mouth. Neverlocked.

  “I figured as much,” she said. “Stand back.”

  Truffler did so, putting his fingers over his eyes.

  She disabled the lock with a zap of energy that made her feel better than she had in a while.

  “Maybe things aren’t so bad after . . .” She stopped.

  The library’s vastness was the first thing that took her breath. Row upon row upon row of books disappeared into the gloom, lit occasionally by the circulating everlanterns. Tall ladders disappeared up toward the rafters. A great dome vaulted over the ivory-and-jet parquet floor, filled almost to its curve with books. Whatever the original design had been on the dome ceiling had been tiled over with yet another Wyvern, of course, this one frolicking in a field of flowers. Busts and globes and even a tiny orrery that reminded her of the old observatory in the Museum were scattered in alcoves and on tables throughout the stacks.

  But what made her wish she could turn and tiptoe out was the single oil lantern burning in the center of the table next to Bayne as he looked up from the book he was studying.

  “Oh dear.” She should have guessed as much. The magic on the lock had seemed rather familiar, now that she thought about it.

  She looked down at Truffler. “Did you know he was in here?”

  Truffler shrugged.

  “You could have warned me,” she hissed at the hob out of the side of her mouth.

  “Did you need something?” Bayne asked.

  “Hmmm . . . yes,” she said, drifting toward him. “I was hoping for a book about magical healing, if such a thing exists.”

  He put a forefinger between the pages of the book he was reading and closed it as she approached. She saw the words Great Plague illumined on the spine.

  “I doubt you’ll find that here,” he said. “You’re more likely to find something about how best to cook a Kraken hatchling or Scientian geography or . . . the history of my illustrious forebears.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you trying to heal Olivia?”

  “I thought I might. It seems to me that her bite is getting worse, even though she tries to hide it.”

  “I’ve tried healing her myself, you know,” he said. “It didn’t work.”

  “Oh,” she said again. She hadn’t known that, either. “Well, what are we to do?”

  He sighed. “I’ve been searching for the answers. As well as any histories regarding Ximu.”

  “And?”

  He looked very much as if he wanted her to leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She was restless with the fear of all that was still unknown. She had to do something, find some knowledge that might be useful. And she could scarcely admit to herself, but she didn’t want to go back to her room and be in its vast darkness, even though Truffler had agreed to stay with her.

  “Right now I am looking at something else.”

  She waited to see if he would tell her. Sometimes if she remained silent, she found that he would eventually confide in her.

  He cleared his throat and flipped the book back open. The new ducal signet glinted on his forefinger. “I’m reading the public accounts of the last year, trying to verify if anything Charles said was true.”

  She made a sympathetic noise, remembering how angry Bayne had been.

  “Everything he said is recorded as truth. His and Tesla’s arrival. His marriage to my sister Artemisia. The plague and the subsequent deaths of my family and hundreds more. The decision to go back to using stockpiled myth until another solution could be found. It’s all here. And there is no magical tampering that I can tell.” He slammed the book shut. “And I completely do not understand it.”

  “Well . . .” Vespa hesitated to say what she was thinking but then decided to press forward anyway. It was something that had been growing in her mind ever since the dinner. “Have you considered that maybe he’s telling the truth?”

  He stared at her.

  “No, not you, too,” he said. He put his head in his hands for a brief moment and then looked up at her. “First
my only surviving brother, and now you? He wants something. I know he does,” Bayne said. “He was a scheming snake even in his Architect days. He tries to pretend that it was circumstance that made him a slave of the Grue, but you know it wasn’t. You of all people should know.”

  Vespa had been thinking about that too. “I never knew him before he was possessed, Bayne. He could have been just as he says—a poor fool who was offered a bargain he couldn’t refuse.”

  “Are you sincerely saying that perhaps Charles is just what he claims to be? Has he enspelled you, too?”

  “You know better than that,” she said. “Do you sense any magic beyond the use of myth here? And yes, that is bad, but his explanation does seem plausible. We know from experience how many have suffered for lack of the medicines and other things we once used thoughtlessly.”

  “It’s true I don’t sense any magic. Or at least, not very much. But then tell me this . . . what happened to all the Elementals who lent us their aid and escaped with us? Where are they now? And what about the note Tesla sent us?”

  “No one will answer me about that,” Vespa said in a small voice. “And we still should try to ask Tesla what he knows. More than he’s telling, I’m fairly certain.”

  She turned to Truffler. “Do you know what happened to the other Elementals, Truffler? What do you think is going on?”

  “Not good,” the hob said, shaking his head. “Not good.”

  “We avoided the hard questions before,” Bayne said. “We all turned a blind eye to everything that went on in the Empire. The Architects moved too slowly because they were afraid. Had it not been for my inadvertent discovery of you, who knows what would have happened with that blasted Machine and the Waste?”

  “Then what do you propose we do?”

  “We need to find out what he’s holding back. While all of this may be true, I believe there’s something else beneath the surface. I am not convinced that he’s not in league with Ximu, for example. He may be holding us here for her. He and Lucy always did have a camaraderie.” His mouth curved down with distaste.