The King's Craft (The Petralist Book 6)
Page 7
Seeing the sleeve of her blue, cotton dress pinned over the stump of her right arm reminded Connor that he’d failed to save her, failed to heal her completely. Her golden hair was regrowing well, but a patch covered her right eye, and some faint scarring remained across the right side of her face, despite everything Connor and other Healers had done to erase them.
Jean waved with her good hand and Connor forced himself to ignore her injuries and see her the way she portrayed herself. She did not hide her injuries, did not apologize for them, but moved forward despite them. Her inner fortitude inspired him.
The crowd parted for them and they exchanged greetings. Connor smiled at Gisela, who worked as Jean’s personal secretary. The pale-haired Althin sculptress was another skilled administrator, who helped Jean manage her extremely busy schedule. Hamish seemed to know everyone, but didn’t stop to chat with them until after he gave Jean a quick kiss.
Connor asked, “What’s being tested today?”
She grinned. “Personal defensive shielding. We’ve enhanced them significantly since the last iteration.”
Gisela added, “We have adding secondary components to extend the livings of the shielding, and the makings of easier to deploying.”
That sounded good. Several heavily armored soldiers were already assembling in the main testing room below. Connor recognized some of the mechanicals they wore, including blind coal gauntlets and personal shielding packs.
Hamish frowned. “You moved the shields to the back?”
Jean nodded. “It reduces interference and we can include larger stones.”
“The last time we tried positioning them there, we suffered too much risk of failure. The activation mechanism could be broken too easily,” Hamish pointed out.
“We’re discovering new things almost every day, and this change was one. Danhildur, why don’t you explain?”
She gestured to the middle-aged Althin researcher standing nearby. Gray streaked her straight blond hair, but her eyes sparkled with vigor and she smiled warmly. She led the rapidly growing Althing contingent of researchers and scientists, and acted as one of Jean’s chief administrators of the Schwinkendorf Academy. She was an enthusiastic leader and no doubt equally thrilled by the amount of data she was funneling back to Althing.
“Indeed, leveraging the experience we’ve gained in combining chemical agents with remote Builder activation of mechanicals, we isolated a way to automatically trigger the shielding by measuring impacts to the wearer. For example, if they are struck hard in a critical location, the shielding will activate to defend them from additional harm or secondary impacts. Also, the wearer only needs to bang on one of several activation points on their armor to manually activate the shielding.”
That was impressive. The previous design had seemed incredible too, but the activation process required turning a keystone. This way sounded so much better, and could trigger even if the soldier was incapacitated or struck from behind. Connor loved it.
Hamish looked fascinated. “How do you ensure the remote trigger activates?”
She started to respond but Jean held a hand up to quiet them. “We’ll discuss more details in a minute. Look, they’re about to start.”
The soldiers had indeed assembled into battle formation, all facing a diminutive figure who was trotting out of another doorway across the testing room. Connor recognized him and laughed. “Nicklaus?”
Jean smiled. “He’s one of our most enthusiastic testers.”
Nicklaus’ governess stepped to the front of the group. Christin looked less harried than the last time he had seen her in Altkalen and actually wore a smile. She was a slender woman in her sixties, with calm, brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair pulled into a braid. “Plus this gives him something to do to focus his energies and curiosity. Captain Ilse has been assigning him duties. Helps him feel like he’s part of her elite company, and it’s much more constructive than chasing him around the city putting out fires and repairing accidental damage.”
Jean nodded. “Nicklaus is already an immensely powerful Petralist, but he’s still just a seven-year-old. He has far more enthusiasm than good sense.”
Plus, he could use both Builder and Petralist powers. No doubt that was the reason he’d been permitted to come to New Schwinkendorf. His rare talent offered unique insights into how both sets of powers functioned, with the potential of one day unlocking how to help other Petralists and Builders cross that gap.
One important area Connor’s friends had been testing was trying to figure out how Harley had managed to loan quartzite to Shona. Not even Kilian had known that was possible, and it was a critical breakthrough they needed to understand before meeting the queen’s forces in battle. Once Connor actually managed to loan Petralist powers, he hoped that process would also help him learn how to help others establish new affinities.
The queen had done it with Shona, and reports suggested she was using that unique ability to build an unstoppable army, full of new Petralists. If they didn’t figure out how to do it too, all the mechanicals in the world might not be enough to save them. If they did figure it out, the possibilities could save the revolution, and very well transform their entire society.
Down in the testing chamber, Nicklaus saluted the soldiers then leaped into a fracked sprint around them. He moved incredibly fast, as if young legs could somehow frack more efficiently. As he zipped around the soldiers, who shifted back to back so at least one of them was always watching the deadly little boy, he tapped his Dawnus affinities and began flinging fire and water at the soldiers.
Connor was impressed. He’d struggled to wield both water and fire together at first. Ivor had taught him some tricks, but it wasn’t until he ascended the first threshold that combining his elemental affinities had come easier. Nicklaus was just a kid, but already he wielded his Petralist powers like an experienced warrior.
And he was also a Builder. While attacking with the elements, he also activated small diorite missiles from holsters in his arms, and even pulled a speedsling over his shoulder and unleashed a deadly volley.
Connor watched, enthralled as the soldiers activated the various defensive mechanicals. Luckily the equipment worked extremely well, allowing them to slip through explosions or step through grasping tendrils of elements. A couple of the soldiers were struck by missiles or hornets, knocked backward by the impacts, but shimmering shields of quartzite instantly wrapped them, protecting them from additional damage. A couple of them looked battered by the initial impacts, their armor scored or even cracked, but in any other situation the entire company would’ve quickly fallen to such a barrage.
No doubt Hamish and Jean were cataloging everything happening to the defenders, while Gisela and the other secretaries furiously scratched notes of their own. Connor just enjoyed the show.
The boy was having a blast, and Connor didn’t blame him. He loved running with basalt and throwing around elements, but not even he with all of his affinities could trigger speedslings and diorite missiles. He usually didn’t need them, but watching Nicklaus shift between Petralist and Builder powers so seamlessly made him grin.
He could only imagine how much fun he might’ve had as a seven-year-old wielding such incredible weapons. Nicklaus didn’t even have to sneak out back to play. The biggest challenge was probably getting Nicklaus to put away the speedsling and the missiles when they were done testing. Connor had no doubt that if he checked in Nicklaus’ room he would find at least one contraband weapon concealed under his bed.
He had always liked Nicklaus, and now he decided the boy was destined for great things.
The test ended all too soon, and Nicklaus immediately rushed to check on the wounded soldiers. Connor and the other observers descended from the observation room. Smoke and dust and the scent of melted metal hung in the room, despite the advanced air exchangers that had been set up to extract fumes after one of the Althing chemical weapons had melted through its protective container a few weeks ago.
His governess said in a long-suffering tone, “Nicklaus . . .”
He sighed and added, “I mean, when can I help test new ways to protect people?”
Jean ruffled his hair. “As soon as we analyze the test, I’ll let you know. Thank you so much. You’ve definitely earned dessert today.”
He grinned up at his governess to make sure she had heard that. Then he turned and exclaimed, “Hamish! Can we fly together today?”
“Today’s pretty busy, but how about tomorrow?”
Nicklaus jumped up and down with excitement. “When do I get my own battle suit?”
Hamish chuckled. “We’re still waiting on authorization for that.”
By the terrified look in the governess’ eyes, Connor doubted that authorization would come for at least ten or fifteen years. Nicklaus on the ground was a force to be reckoned with. Nicklaus flying around in a battle suit like Hamish could terrorize entire nations.
The boy turned to Connor and added, “When I learn to use the Varvakin lightning strike, will you let me zap you with it?”
“I’d like to understand how it works too,” Connor said carefully. He loved Nicklaus’ enthusiasm, but did not plan to volunteer for another lightning strike if he could help it.
Jean said, “We don’t understand the lightning effect enough to build mechanical weapons using it yet.”
The boy looked crestfallen until Hamish added, “But I’m sure we will.”
He grinned and grabbed Hamish’s hand. “You work with them, don’t you?”
“I do. In fact, we’re heading over there right now for one of the Juggernaut tests.”
“Can I come?” Nicklaus begged, somehow making his eyes wider, his expression pleading.
It was a great show, and by Hamish’s expression it had worked on him more than once already. Luckily, Christin was hovering nearby. She said, “Enough Builder work for today. You must prepare for tonight’s feast.”
Nicklaus sagged with disappointment and Hamish said, “Maybe some other time.”
“Yay!” Nicklaus beamed, and Christin cast a reproachful look over the boy’s head at Hamish. He shrugged in apology, but didn’t actually look apologetic.
Jean said, “Hamish, I don’t think I can join you. My teams will analyze the results of this test, but I’ve got a meeting with Ilse.” She nodded toward her stump.
Gisela added, “All testings are being strenuously documenting this week.”
“You don’t think the new governor would block any of your work, do you?” Hamish asked, sounding offended.
Connor also felt a rush of annoyance. No one knew who would be appointed to govern New Schwinkendorf, but rumors suggested that many high nobility were negotiating to get one of their relatives appointed to the desirable post. The city might be new, but it already played a vital role in the war effort, and promised to become a strategic asset. All the nobles wanted the prize, but Connor doubted most of them would understand how to govern such a unique place.
He knew enough nobility in both Obrion and Granadure not to worry about how badly a purely political appointment could mess with all of their work. The thought of the king making such a stupid choice left him tense with worry.
He wasn’t alone. Hamish scowled as he thought about it, and Connor noticed a lot of other angry looks, most of which were quickly suppressed.
With her usual impenetrable optimism, Jean said, “We want to make sure whoever is appointed receives all the information they’ll need to become effective as quickly as possible.”
“They’d better be,” Connor muttered.
Hamish sighed, kissed Jean on the cheek and said, “We’ll find you later.”
8
The True Power of the Forgotten Sense
Hamish landed in a whoosh of thrusters just outside the long, low hangar that concealed the enormous underground Builder Cavern One. Connor skidded to a stop nearby, his fracked legs snapping back into position. Hamish was so glad he didn’t have to break his legs every time he wanted to move fast.
They headed inside and stopped at Verena’s workroom, located on the ground floor. As expected, she was working on another test of her marvelous new engine. It was running, secured behind a protective wall of reinforced Sehrazad steel glass. The workroom was large, despite that walled-off testing area. Verena was the senior Builder, after all. Hamish approved of the clutter of tables, shelves, and crates of supplies, although Verena kept them far neater than he would have. Still, the room smelled of stone and fire and the pungent scent of various fuel mixtures she was testing.
Verena waved them over and Connor led the way. She greeted him with a kiss and slipped under his arm. Hamish preferred holding hands with Jean, but didn’t begrudge them their preference. Their relationship started with Verena hitting Connor a lot, so maybe standing like that brought back good memories.
During that midwinter trip to Verena’s family estate, Connor had won approval from her father to formally begin courting her. That had helped them overcome the lingering issues that had threatened to drive them apart. Like the memory of Mattias. Hamish loved seeing them so happy together.
Hopefully nothing new would drive new wedges between them. Verena was Grandurian and closely related to the king, so she’d probably feel obligated to support whoever the new lord was being appointed to run the city. Hamish trusted her to warn them if she expected problems from whoever won the post.
“What are you doing here? Isn’t Fyodor testing the coupler today?” Verena asked Hamish.
“Heading there next.” He tucked his helmet under one arm and gestured toward the huge windows on the far wall that overlooked the rest of the cavern. Most of that space was dedicated to the construction and testing of the Juggernauts, and Hamish spent much of his time down there, immersed in the enormous project.
The teams included Varvakin engineers, Althin scientists, a huge team from Jean’s Academy, and hundreds of assistants and workers. All of their international allies were working together to pool resources and brilliance in an unprecedented level of cooperation. Everyone was motivated to come up with strategies and weapons to defeat the dread queen. Wagonloads of the best foods from six nations fueled the effort and Hamish firmly believed that their better meals would ultimately turn the tide against the queen’s army, whose culinary range was just so limited.
“Hear anything about this new mystery lord getting appointed tonight at the feast?” Hamish asked.
“Nothing’s been announced publicly,” Verena said with a shrug.
“The timing is so weird,” Connor said with a frustrated scowl. “They should have waited until after springtime, at least.”
“Why wait so long?” Verena asked, and Hamish noted a new tension in her voice. Did she know something about the appointment they didn’t?
Connor shrugged. “We have a lot of work to do. A lot’s going to happen once the snows melt.”
“Probably more than most of us suspect,” Verena agreed, her voice somehow fragile. She glanced at Hamish, and he read a deep worry in her eyes, but she was trying to hide it.
“You’re positioned better than any of us. If you’re nervous, we should be worried,” he said.
“Have you been listening to all the ridiculous rumors?” she asked, glancing between them both.
“We’ve got enemies everywhere, probably some lurking right among us. It’s not ridiculous to think a new player in the mix might cause a lot of problems,” Connor retorted. They’d argued the point many times, but something about the conversation felt off in a way Hamish couldn’t quite identify.
“Let’s just not overreact to anything, okay?” Verena asked.
“Fine, but I won’t pretend there’s no danger,” Connor said.
“There had better be a lot of food, or we could see riots,” Hamish added. Leaders had been talking up the feast for
weeks and people were ready for something memorable.
Verena chuckled. “I’ve seen Jean’s plans for the meal. It’ll be exceptional, don’t worry. And Connor’s feeling better.” She nudged his shoulder. “And yesterday you proved you’re tough but maybe not invincible after all.” Strangely, she seemed more comforted than worried by that.
Hamish would never understand Verena. So he asked, “How’s your engine?”
Several feeder tubes were connected to the engine heart, pouring various components of the fuel mixture into the main combustion chamber. This model was made of Sehrazad glass so they could watch the fuel exploding with fantastic colors, driving pistons connected to gauges that monitored force output. The readings looked good. The strange Sehrazad raiders had brought little else beyond their enthusiasm for battle to the alliance, but that little had been Sehrazad steel glass, and it was quickly becoming a critical component to many projects.
Verena beamed. “It’s ready. The fuel mix is the best we’ve seen so far. Maximizing force while minimizing the need for diorite consumption.”
“Good. Diorite is becoming the limiting factor on several of the explosive mechanicals,” Hamish said. Their supply had never been huge, and it seemed every day they found a new application for explosions in both military and civilian mechanicals. Sometimes he worried they were becoming too dependent on diorite. Verena’s research with the engine offered the first real alternative.
He added, “I’ve almost finished my tests distilling the tongue-burn component out of spice roots. I think we should add it to your fuel mix. Might make it better.”
“No one but you would worry about how fuel tastes,” Connor laughed.
“I’m the only one who understands the true power of the forgotten sense,” Hamish said, assuming the slightly nasal tone and posture of one of the Althin scientists he worked with to test their chemical weapons. “Nothing can achieve its full potential unless taste is taken into account.”