“Last night,” Elwin told her as she worked her way through the latest round of medicine.
“I know—you’re almost rid of me! Well . . . until all the house calls.”
He grinned and rumpled her hair before handing her Ella. “Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day.”
Silveny must’ve sensed the change coming too. That night she filled Sophie’s head with dreams of the two of them soaring over snowy mountains, chasing the coming dawn on the brightening horizon. It was peaceful and soothing. But also hopeful. And when the sun rose around them in the dream world, it felt like a new beginning—and maybe it was, because when Sophie opened her sleepy eyes on her last morning in the Healing Center, she was no longer alone.
“Back to your Forkle disguise?” she asked, sitting up to study the bloated, wrinkled figure sitting on the cot across from her. The ruckleberries he must’ve consumed had made his body swell, stretch, and crinkle, until he looked much more like an elderly human than an elf. And no matter how hard she squinted, she couldn’t see any trace of Magnate Leto.
“I have some errands to run,” he told her. “So I had to switch things up.”
His voice was back to its familiar raspy wheeze, and Sophie knew how silly it was to feel her heart swell at the sound. The elf sitting across from her was technically no different than her slicked-haired principal.
But this was the voice—and the face—she’d known all her life. The annoying next-door neighbor who asked too many questions but had turned out to be her protector and creator.
A voice she’d once feared had fallen silent forever.
“Aren’t you worried someone will see you?” she had to ask, since his Forkle identity was meant to be much more mysterious. Plus, the Neverseen were supposed to think he was dead.
“He transformed in here,” Elwin said behind her, and Sophie turned to find him studying Mr. Forkle through his iridescent spectacles. “I swear, my eyes still don’t want to believe what I saw. I think I need to study ruckleberries more. I’ve clearly been underestimating how potent those little things are.”
“But what if people notice the principal is missing?” Sophie asked.
“I’m hoping it will be an uneventful day,” Mr. Forkle admitted. “But if anything comes up, Lady Cadence is prepared to cover for me—as is Elwin. It appears having others in on the secret is going to be key, now that it’s harder for me to sneak away.”
“Why is that, by the way?” Elwin asked as he handed Sophie her morning tray of medicine.
“It’s a very long story,” Mr. Forkle told him, staring blankly into the distance. “And one I don’t have time to share today.”
“I take it you’re not going to tell me where you’re going on these mysterious errands?” Sophie asked.
His lips pulled into a half smile. “And here I thought you’d be happy to have things back to normal.”
She closed her eyes, needing a few seconds to let the words sink in.
Back to normal.
That’s what this was—even if it would be a new normal for a while.
And she was determined to make the best of it.
But it didn’t really feel real until she’d chugged down all her medicine and Elwin had flashed a zillion colorful orbs around her arm and given her all kinds of warnings and reminders.
Then he confirmed it. “Yep! Your bones are definitely strong enough to light leap.”
“Good,” Mr. Forkle said. “Because she’ll be making more than one.”
“I will?” Sophie asked. “And you really aren’t going to tell me where I’m going?”
“Not yet. Dex should be here any minute, and I’ll catch you both up then. In the meantime, you should probably get changed.”
He held out a folded tunic and a pair of leggings, both in pale colors without any frills—exactly the way Sophie preferred them—along with a heavy cape and a pair of sturdy boots.
“Your mother brought them by this morning,” he explained. “She’s very eager to have you home. I’m told there will be a feast of epic proportions when we arrive.”
Sophie’s stomach growled at the thought.
“Need help getting dressed?” Elwin offered, but there was no way that was happening—beyond letting him remove her sling for a few minutes.
“I can handle it,” she promised.
And she did.
But . . . it was more of a struggle than she wanted it to be.
Her healing arm would only lift so high—only bend at the elbow so much. And her fingers were weak and clumsy. So tying the sash on her tunic?
Pretty much impossible.
“Here,” Mr. Forkle said when she emerged from behind her curtain with the ends of her sash tossed around her shoulders like an awkward shawl. He tied a simple bow and she started to step away, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps you’d also like a little help with your hair?”
“You’re offering to do my hair?” Sophie verified, reaching up to feel the tangled mess.
“I’m an elf of many talents,” he told her.
Shockingly enough, he wove her hair into the most intricate braid she’d ever seen.
“Do I want to know why you know how to do this?” she asked.
“Of course—but that’s a story for another day. For now, we should get that arm back into a sling.”
“Yes, we should,” Elwin said, slipping the thick silver strap over her head and nestling her arm in the loop of fabric.
“Okay, I’m here,” Dex announced a few minutes later, flashing Sophie a quick dimpled grin before turning to Mr. Forkle. “Now tell me where we’re going.”
“That’s all you have to say to Miss Foster?” Mr. Forkle asked. “No comment on the fact that she’s finally out of bed and leaving the Healing Center?”
Dex glanced back at Sophie, and she didn’t blame him one bit for simply giving her a hasty “Yay—glad you’re doing better!” before reeling back toward Mr. Forkle and telling him, “Okay, no more stalling. Tell us where we’re going!”
Mr. Forkle smiled. “Somewhere I think you’re both going to find very useful.”
“That better not be your whole answer,” Sophie warned.
“Yeah, and why did I have to ditch Lovise?” Dex added.
“You did?” Sophie asked, realizing Dex’s bodyguard wasn’t standing in the shadows like she should’ve been.
“I did,” Dex agreed, “and I had to promise to make the triplets all kinds of pranking elixirs in order to convince them to distract her for me—and I’m pretty sure they’re going to bring all of them to Foxfire, so good luck with that.”
“I’ll make sure the campus is prepared,” Mr. Forkle assured him. “And trust me, it’s worth the effort. I’m taking you both to meet with one of the most reclusive members of the Black Swan—who happens to not be a fan of goblins. Hence why I asked you to come alone, Mr. Dizznee, and why I’m having us make a detour before I bring Miss Foster home to her abundance of bodyguards. It’s time for you two to meet Tinker, our Technopath.”
• • •
“Okay, this is the coolest place I’ve ever seen,” Dex said as he craned his neck to study the metal-and-glass structure, which couldn’t seem to decide if it was a mansion or a machine.
Spinning cogs decorated the sweeping arches and ornate columns that formed the main building, which framed what appeared to be a massive clock tower—except the frosted glass face had five hands instead of two, and five symbols instead of twelve, and none of those symbols were numbers. The markings didn’t look like runes, either—too many sharp angles. Sophie had no idea what they were. But the same symbols were also used to mark each of the contraptions attached in a neat row along the very top edge of the tower’s roof. The first reminded Sophie of a sundial. The second was probably some sort of weather vane. The third might’ve been an anemometer, and the fourth was most likely a rain gauge. The last she couldn’t begin to guess—all she knew was that it was shiny and spinning very fast.
So. Many. Pipes.
Gleaming in copper, silver, gold, brass, and steel.
Some jutted from the roof of the main building at varying heights and angles, unleashing curls of thick white steam into the chilly sky. Others snaked down the sides of the tower and tunneled into the dark earth—or crawled into the thicket of evergreens and coiled around the massive trees—or dived into the white-capped river that roared along one side of the structure. But most were crowned with widemouthed funnels and reached out like eager arms toward the misty waterfall that formed a backdrop to the strange scene.
“The waterfall’s powering everything, isn’t it?” Dex asked, squinting at a brassy funnel that reminded Sophie of a tuba as it swallowed a thick stream of frothy water.
“In part,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “From what I understand, Widgetmoor draws energy from earth, air, and water.”
“Not fire?” Sophie asked.
“Never fire,” he confirmed, pointing to the thinnest pipes, which scaled to the tops of the trees. One was low enough for her to see something flat and shiny at the end—a mirror, maybe? Or perhaps a solar panel?
The latter seemed more likely, when Mr. Forkle added, “Sunlight is the only source of heat that Tinker allows—and only in small doses. She prefers the cold.”
She must, if she chose to live where the trees blocked most of the light. The waterfall’s mist also made everything damp and shivery—not that Sophie minded. After so many days indoors, it was amazing to feel wind on her skin and to breathe in the scent of pine and wet earth.
“I’m guessing there’s a reason she’s not a fan of fire,” Sophie said, flicking her braid off her shoulder.
“There always is.” But whatever the story was, Mr. Forkle didn’t share.
Dex wandered to one of the trees, placing his palm against the copper pipe coiling around and around. “The way she connected all of this is amazing.”
“I thought you might be impressed,” Mr. Forkle said, leaning back to better admire the view. “Widgetmoor feels like stepping into Tinker’s brain. It may seem like chaos at first, but everything has a purpose. Nothing is purely aesthetic. And the eccentricity of it only makes it more brilliant.”
“Tinker’s her code name?” Sophie clarified.
“It started out that way. But it fits her so well that she decided she prefers it. I don’t believe she’s used her real name in years. Same goes for her disguise, which I’ve yet to see her without.”
Dex frowned. “Does that mean she was already wearing a disguise before she joined the Black Swan?”
“No, it means I wasn’t the one to recruit her. Wraith discovered her, but she was reluctant to join our cause without knowing more about us. So she asked him to keep her identity secret and set up a meeting with the rest of the Collective—and she showed up to that meeting in the same disguise she’ll be wearing today.”
“She still doesn’t trust you?” Sophie asked.
“No, we’re long past that. The disguise is as much for utility as it is for concealment. You’ll see what I mean. But first, you might want to cover your ears. It’s about to get very loud.”
Sophie could only cover her left ear, thanks to her sling, so she tilted her head to press her right ear into her shoulder—and it was a good thing she did, because when all five of the hands on the tower rotated forward, low-pitched bells boomed through the air, loud enough to send pine needles raining around them.
BOOOOOOOOOOONG!
BOOOOOOOOOOONG!
BOOOOOOOOOOONG!
BOOOOOOOOOOONG!
BOOOOOOOOOOONG!
“Is that the time?” Sophie asked when the clearing had fallen silent again—or as silent as it could be. The roar of the water and the whir of the cogs and a thrumming pulse from the tower—all ticking, no tocking—were still a steady hum in her ears.
“To be quite honest, I don’t know what the tower is tracking,” Mr. Forkle admitted. “I asked Tinker about it once, and she asked me what I wanted it to be and never gave me the real answer—which is something you should prepare yourself for. Tinker considers questions to be far more valuable than answers, so it’s rare to get an actual explanation.”
Dex snorted. “Huh, I wonder what that’s like.”
“I know,” Sophie agreed. “We’re so used to everyone telling us everything we want to know the second we want to know it—how will we ever handle that kind of vagueness and mystery?”
Mr. Forkle sighed. “I suppose I walked into that one. What I was trying to convey is that Tinker has a very particular way of communicating, and it can take some getting used to. Just try to go with it.”
He strode forward, guiding them up a rocky path that was steeper than it looked. Sophie was breathing much harder than she wanted to by the time they reached a massive brushed-steel door with five enormous cogs set deep into the metal: one silver, one gold, one bronze, one copper, and one iron. A coiled steel pipe hung from the chrome ceiling with a contraption mounted to the end that reminded Sophie of a periscope, only it had five different lenses in five different shapes, arranged in a stack from largest to smallest.
Mr. Forkle knocked with five quick raps—Sophie was beginning to wonder if the number held some deeper meaning—and the periscope stretched closer to his face, the lenses lifting and shifting several times before five quick buzzes filled the air.
The gears in the door whirred to life, each spinning at a slightly different speed as the heavy rectangle of metal slid up instead of swinging open, revealing a silver-arched path leading into a wide atrium covered in flowering vines and lacy ferns. Hanging planters dangled from arched points in the cut-glass ceiling, brimming with colorful blooms, and a grassy path wound through the foliage. It was breathtaking and lush, the cold air heady with the scent of jasmine—but it was so . . . natural. No sign of anything technical—until something brushed against Sophie’s foot. Then she found herself stumbling away from a tiny creature staring up at her—if she could call it a creature.
“Cooooooooooooooooool,” Dex breathed. “It’s a clockwork rabbit!”
He crouched to study the metal animal, which was all cogs and wires and shiny bits of brass.
The creature tilted its head, studying Dex with marble eyes, and Dex reached out slowly, like he was offering a treat to a frightened cat. The rabbit wiggled its ears a few times, then hopped onto his palm, and Dex stroked the metal plate along its back before turning it over to examine the inner mechanisms.
“The programming on this is like nothing I’ve ever seen,” he said as he ran a finger along the rabbit’s foot and watched it flinch, as if the touch had tickled. The rabbit twisted its head, still staring at Dex with unblinking eyes before it leaped out of his hands and landed back on the path with a soft clank.
“There’s an owl over there.” Sophie pointed to the edge of one of the planters, where a gleaming chrome owl watched them with huge eyes made from two glowing light bulbs. And over in the corner she spotted a sleek dragon with verdigris scales peeking out from the thick vines. There was also a tiny blue halcyon fluttering near the entrance, with what looked like a music box set into its chest.
“She calls them her pet projects,” Mr. Forkle explained. “My favorite is the hummingbird—it must be around here somewhere.”
He peeled back part of a fern, but only found a pygmy marmoset built from a gold pocket watch.
“I don’t understand how she made these,” Dex said as he scooped up the tiny monkey and let it wrap its gold-chain tail around his finger.
“You can’t see the trick?” a throaty voice asked, and Sophie tried not to gasp when she spotted a red-haired figure emerging from a hatch among the ferns.
Tinker was the tallest elf Sophie had ever seen—and the red curls piled messily on her head only added to her height. But what truly made her striking was the abundance of metal strapped to her hulking frame. A bronze half mask covered the left side of her freckled face, from the
top of her forehead to the tip of her pointed chin, leaving only her gray-blue left eye exposed. Her right eye, in contrast, was covered by a round eyepiece that was somehow mounted along her eyebrow, made of five stacked lenses in varying sizes and colors. And a cog-covered earpiece curved along the outer edge of her left ear and dangled down, connecting to a golden choker—similar to the registry pendants they all wore, but with a small silver sphere instead of a crystal bound into the center. Her pants were fitted chain mail, and her shirt was a riveted steel corset, cinching her waist beneath a wide copper tool belt stuffed with hammers and pliers and screwdrivers—plus all kinds of twisted, springy things. Copper bracers around her wrists completed the look, connecting to hinged silver finger guards that covered each of her pointer fingers like metal scales.
Tinker didn’t smile as the hatch silently sealed closed. She just stood there, studying them one by one, her gaze lingering on Dex as she repeated, “You can’t see the trick?”
Dex’s eyebrows scrunched together as he examined the clockwork monkey again.
“No,” he eventually admitted. He bent to set the creature on the ground and froze. “Unless it’s this.”
He lifted the marmoset again and pointed to something in its neck that Sophie couldn’t see—just like she couldn’t understand any of the Technopathy explanations he rattled off after that. Most of it didn’t even sound like words, just gibberish with a bunch of syllables. But she could tell that Tinker was impressed.
Mr. Forkle introduced them. “Tinker, this is Mr. Dizznee and Miss Foster. We appreciate you granting us this rare visit.”
Tinker’s gaze shifted to the sling supporting Sophie’s arm. “They don’t know why you brought them here?”
“Not yet. So perhaps we should head to your laboratory. Seems like a more fitting place for that conversation, don’t you think?”
Sophie shared a look with Dex—a look that said they both found those words to be uncomfortably ominous. But it didn’t stop them from following Tinker through the atrium, to a gilded path that ended in a round silver room with a narrow iron staircase that corkscrewed all the way to the top of the tower.
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 32
