The Tinker King

by Tiffany Trent

  “You do see what he’s doing, don’t you?” I ask.

  “Who?”

  “Charles.”

  Olivia is still listening, but she’s also gathering more wire for the interior of the antenna. She likes to stay busy, and she can do more than one thing at a time quite easily.

  “What?” Vespa asks.

  “You really don’t know?” I need to do something with my hands, so I grab a greasy spanner and start wiping it down with a rag.

  “Enlighten me.” She puts her hands on her hips, like one of the old Tinker junkwives back in the trainyard.

  “He’s manipulating you to get what he wants. He wants something. And you are not seeing the entire picture.”

  “He’s had a change of heart,” she says. “He’s trying to set things right.”

  “I doubt it!”

  Vespa sighs. “He’s doing it because he understands. He knows everything the Grue knew. And what the Grue knew was that manipulating the balance created chaos and in that moment, he could seize control. He didn’t care, though, if the rest of the world suffered for it. Charles realizes that now.”

  “So?”

  “We don’t know what the consequences could be if we destroy Ximu. She’s been here since the very beginning. Like Tianlong. We’ve seen the results of releasing magic into a world hungry for it. Now we need to try to restore the balance that we unwittingly upset. Killing her is not the way to do it.”

  I sigh. I start arranging all the tools from right to left, the way my uncles once did in their stalls. I have no idea why, except that I really can’t bring myself to answer her.

  “Besides,” Vespa adds, “you yourself said you dreamed that Lucy begged you to be freed. Have you no compassion?”

  Finally, I manage to say, “Why does this decision rest on me?” I look over at Olivia. “Shouldn’t it rest with her, truthfully?”

  “Well, yes,” Vespa says, “but I think Olivia sees the logic of what I’m saying.”

  Olivia nods. “Yes. And though it is ultimately my decision, I think you have much at stake, Syrus. Your family is feeding her spiderlings. Your uncle is leading her assassins. This has the most to do with you of any of us.”

  If it’s possible, her metal eyes go blank, and I can see that she’s scanning her distant past. “My army chased her into the sea once. I can do it again. But many people died even then. If we can prevent that, I would welcome it.”

  She’s right. There is really nothing more to say.

  Olivia puts her hand on my arm in wordless sympathy. I remember a day when that hand wouldn’t have been silver or heavy. A day when I wouldn’t have been able to hear the winding of her gears or the occasional clink of her joints. This is Ximu’s fault.

  “I’ll do this for you,” I say, looking at Olivia.

  Olivia shakes her head. “Not for me. For you. For your people. Taking life will never restore the lives of those lost. But you have the chance to both restore a life and halt the evil of another. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

  “Then with your blessings,” Vespa says, “we can begin our plan.”

  We both nod.

  CHAPTER 32

  I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him,” Bayne said. “I’m sure he’s hiding something from us.”

  “Well,” Vespa said, “that’s understandable. We’ve hidden things from him, too.” She couldn’t believe she was defending Charles. Never in her life would she have imagined that was a possibility. “But he’s agreed to help now. The least we can do is cooperate on our end.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” Bayne asked.

  “We give him the energy he needs, help him distract Ximu long enough to get Lucy free before we shove the giant spider into our own web.”

  “And what of the Tinkers and the xiren? Will they be free when Ximu is trapped? Or will they go on?”

  “I don’t know,” Vespa said. “But Syrus has agreed to help us.”

  “He has?” Bayne raised a brow. “I’m surprised. It seems as though there are many details missing.”

  “But it’s the only choice if he wants to save them! If she dies, they’ll die too.”

  “So Charles has said.” Bayne unfolded himself from the battlements and turned to look out over the mist-covered mountains. He was as distant and remote as the heights, it seemed.

  “I don’t see what other choice we have. Everything else he’s said has been true.” She couldn’t tell him how much Charles had helped her with her magic. How he had taught her to start small and work up to the bigger things. She knew the scarabeus was helpful too, but Charles also made magic comprehensible in a way that Bayne never quite had. Though she couldn’t bring herself to say so. As ever, though, it seemed as if Bayne picked up on her thoughts.

  “What is his hold over you?” He turned back to look at her.

  She forced herself to look him in the eye, though it felt like she was being shot full of angry darts.

  “Nothing. I just think . . .” Vespa swallowed, hating the words that crowded the back of her throat.

  “What?”

  “I think we have to trust him. We have no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, Pedant Nyx,” Bayne said. “The question is whether we’re making the right one.”

  “Well, in this case, I think this is both the only choice and the right one. And we really will need your help to make this work.”

  “Very well, then. But the moment he diverges from the plan, my compliance will be withdrawn. And I will come prepared for that moment. Understood?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and the ducal signet on his finger winked at her. He made it so difficult to argue with him. And yet so easy all at once.

  But this answer was better than she’d been expecting.

  They all met in the courtyard of the ancient palace. The autumn sun struck hard on the paving stones, making Vespa want to seek shade behind one of the great statues that lined the square. She wished she’d brought the bonnet the maid had tried to give her.

  Tesla was pacing out the dimensions of the trap. “You will need to lure Ximu here,” he said. “If we set up the field in this courtyard, this will be the strongest place. Any other place and she might still be able to pull free.”

  “But what will happen to Lucy?” Syrus asked.

  “If we’re fortunate,” Charles said, “the division field I set up here will be enough to separate the two. It would help if we could somehow get the potions into her before this, but the ways in which we could offer it seem less than fair.”

  “Such as?” Bayne asked.

  “Well, a person willing to sacrifice himself for the cause could drink it so that she’d feed off him, for instance. But I doubt anyone here is quite that noble.” Charles smiled darkly.

  Vespa tried to offer a solution instead. “How about putting out a goat or a cow laced with it?” She said in an aside to Syrus, “Does she eat goats or cows? Do the legends say anything about that?”

  Syrus stepped forward.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “She expects me to give her Olivia anyway. I will go to her and offer myself.”

  “But Syrus,” Vespa said, “won’t she kill you when she’s realized you’ve betrayed her?”

  “I think the prospect of the key will be enough to satisfy her.”

  “But will she still not kill you? If you don’t give her the key . . .” Vespa trailed off.

  Syrus held up two keys. “I always carry a spare.” He grinned.

  The two keys looked identical; the difference was that one had the patina of age and the other did not. The other difference was that Vespa could feel the magic coming off the old one and nothing from the new. “She’ll sense the difference. There’s magic in the old one,” Vespa said.

  “I was hoping you might help me with that.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Syrus. Really . . .”

  He looked at her, and she could see the resolution in his eyes. “You said this was my deci
sion. Well, now I’m truly making it mine.”

  Vespa nodded. She couldn’t smile, though. It was far too deadly a situation for Syrus to put himself in. But he was a man now. No one could make his decisions for him.

  “Yes, all well and good. Now that’s decided, can we move on, please?” Charles asked.

  Vespa rolled her eyes. Sometimes Charles and Bayne were too alike for her comfort.

  “So, we lure her away from the army, and she hits the division field here,” Charles said, standing near a spot that Tesla was sketching onto a tablet.

  “And then?” Bayne asked.

  “And then we have her, my Lord Duke,” Charles said. “And here she will stay, held for all eternity.”

  “You’re certain?”

  Bayne looked between him and Tesla.

  Tesla answered, “If my understanding of the schematics that are on archive here are correct, this is how the first Elementals were held at the Museum of Unnatural History.”

  Piskel began grumping about and settled on Syrus’s shoulder with a thud.

  “What’s the matter?” Vespa said. She had been worried that Truffler and Piskel might not want to help them capture Ximu, remembering the old days of the Museum and New London.

  “He says that’s the case unless you’re a sylph,” Syrus said, patting the sylph gently.

  Vespa could imagine the strain Syrus was feeling. Just thinking about him going alone to face Ximu was terrifying enough for her. She remembered how she had felt when Charles had taken her up to the Machine. She knew that terror of inevitability, that slim hope that what she believed in so desperately would come to pass.

  They went back to pacing out the paralytic field. Tesla positioned the thin antennae he and Syrus had developed together. “This will be a perfect way to test the design. If it can withstand holding this kind of power, it should be able to service the entire City,” Tesla said.

  Bayne nodded, but Vespa saw how he looked at Charles. She knew that he was still trying to figure out what secret plan Charles might be masking behind this one. He was still sure he would be caught unawares. But he went along with it—they all did—because there was nothing better that could be done.

  “It will have to be right,” Vespa muttered under her breath to Truffler. “It will just have to.”

  Truffler took her hand in his, and silently they watched the rods being set into place.

  CHAPTER 33

  The hour I’ve set for myself finally comes. The others know I’m going but not exactly when. I don’t want to have to say good-bye. Besides, I’ll be back. Ximu will only take a taste, because she’ll want me to give her the army. I know this. All is as it should be.

  But if that’s true, why are my knees knocking together so badly, I can barely walk?

  I know she’s in a cave at the base of the mountains. Scouts have seen her army positioning itself between the City and the mountains, and occasionally the hybrids have tested the strength of the gaps in the walls. She’s waiting. It will be almost a relief to go to her; her call has been so strong lately that it’s nearly impossible to refuse, even with the curse broken.

  The potions clank in my satchels as I walk. There’s no point in shifting to speed this up. I will take my time. I want to feel the sea wind on my face, to feel the moonlight falling on me, silver and perfect as Olivia’s smile.

  Olivia.

  I wanted to say good-bye to her. I almost did today in the workshop but then stopped myself. She would have offered to go with me, and we cannot afford for Ximu to get hold of her.

  Then over my own soft clinking, I hear the sound of footsteps. I think perhaps it’s the Grimgorn guard, but as the sound grows louder, I know it for what it is.

  There’s no point in hiding, so I just stand and watch her. She’s wearing a hooded cloak, but occasionally the moon tricks out a flash of silver.

  “You didn’t really think you could leave without my knowing, did you?” Olivia asks.

  “I didn’t want you to worry. And I also didn’t want to put you in danger. You should go back, Olivia. I’ll be back soon enough.” Even I can hear the false cheer in my voice.

  “How will you get back on your own, Syrus? Ximu can be swift when she wishes, and the xiren even swifter. Barring some Elemental with wings, I’m the only one who can outrun them.”

  I consider protesting again—the foolhardiness of it, the terrible danger—but I simply do not want to walk this road alone. “Walk with me, then,” I say, and she slips her cold hand into mine.

  It feels as though the entire world is silently watching as we pick our way through the tombs and graves of Scientia.

  And then I notice those amber eyes watching me from a little hillock under a twisted tree.

  Blackwolf comes to me, and though he cannot speak in this form, he puts his head under my hand. The touch of his ruff comforts me, and together we three walk down the hill, his strength flowing into me. It would be almost easy if I was just going into battle. If, like the stories from the Old World that Nainai sometimes told, I went into the heart of the cave with my spear to kill the darkness that lived there.

  But this is a different world, and we must learn to dance with the darkness. After all, it is only a reflection of our inner selves. If we try to kill it, we are killing a part of ourselves. What are the stars without night? What is life without death?

  We must give ourselves up for lost and, in so doing, find ourselves. I think Nainai said that to me once long ago. As I hold Olivia’s hand, I never knew what it meant until now.

  There is no guard at this gate. Bayne has pulled all the defenses in tightly, protecting the inner City as best he can.

  Blackwolf stops.

  “Xiexie,” I whisper. He closes his eyes and bows his head. And then he is lost in the shadows once again.

  My legs tremble so hard just before this last part of the journey that I’m afraid I’ll fall down.

  Olivia is watching me from the shadows of her hood. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll be with you. I’ll keep you from harm.”

  I manage to smile. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

  She shrugs. “You seem to have forgotten that I’m the General here.”

  I down the two potions quickly, their bitter taste making me want to spit them back out. Charles said I would feel no effects from them, that my bond with the hound is different from that with humans and Greater Elementals. Still, it makes me feel even more nervous and sick, and for a moment I press my forehead against the rusting iron bars and wish I did not have to do this.

  Olivia puts her hand on my shoulder in wordless sympathy.

  But then I think of my people and the long slavery we have endured, always changing masters but never changing fates. Whether they know it or not, they’re waiting for me to free them. And Lucy, too. Even though I disliked the girl, Vespa is right—she does deserve compassion for the terror she’s gone through. Only I can change their fates.

  I slide out between the bars, and Olivia follows suit. I’ve spent enough time deliberating, and I suck the last potion down. I can feel them bubbling together in my stomach, fizzing out along my veins.

  At the mouth of her cave I go a few steps ahead of Olivia so they will see that she is under my command. The xiren come to collect us.

  “Finally, you’ve seen reason,” my uncle says.

  I smile wearily at him. I will carry the charade on as long as I have to. “Take me to her, then. She will want her prize.”

  Ximu is in the darkest, dankest, foulest hole I can imagine. The smell makes me gag.

  Whatever you do, don’t vomit, Charles had said.

  That admonition and knowing Olivia is at my back keep me going.

  Lucy’s warped face greets me out of the gloom.

  “Took you long enough. You are a resistant little thing, for a mortal. I was beginning to think I’d lost you.”

  I want to say something brilliant, something heroic, but instead I take the false key out of my
bag and shove it with a trembling hand in her face. Vespa’s magic gives it a lovely, warm glow. I pull Olivia around beside me.

  “Good,” Ximu says. “Very good.”

  I wait on her to pounce, to drink of me in her triumph, as she so often has in my nightmares. But she does nothing. She is waiting on me.

  I step forward. “Give me what you promised, then,” I say through chattering teeth. “Make me xiren. I am your weapon, and this automaton will do whatever we say.”

  She rubs her little forefeet together and the scarlet fangs emerge, poison dripping.

  “This,” she says, as she leaps toward me, “is going to be a very good day.”

  She bends me backward, nearly breaking me in half in her eagerness. She doesn’t bother winding me into a cocoon first. She simply dives into me, as if she hasn’t fed in centuries.

  The last thing I see is Olivia’s face and a great shining sword that has grown in her hands.

  CHAPTER 34

  Alarms were sounding in her sleep. And something was shaking her. Something was wrong, horribly, horribly wrong.

  “Vespa, wake up!” Truffler was saying in a hoarse, terrified whisper.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  She tried to put on her clothes, but he kept pulling at her.

  “No time! Syrus! Olivia!” he said. He was practically hauling her out of the door.

  Vespa only managed to get on her dressing gown and boots before they were outside and running toward the courtyard.

  “What did they do?” she said, her stomach filling with dread.

  Truffler shook his head and moaned in answer. Which was not really an answer, but she gathered it was the best she was going to get.

  She saw Bayne racing across the courtyard with a little star beside him—Piskel. Just over the dark edges of the buildings they could see a line of light. Vespa couldn’t tell if it was dawn or fire.

  They met running up the stairs to the old haunted palace.

  “Do you know what’s happening?” Bayne asked. He carried a satchel, and she heard things clinking around in it.