Of Tinkers and Technomancers

by Katherine McIntyre

  The gas lamps flickered on as the darkness soaked the sky, the moon a mere sliver on the gusty night. Her curls fluttered with the breezes filtering through the streets, and she tucked several strands behind her ear.

  A familiar man came into view at the end of the street. Silas Kylock managed to cut a dashing form without even trying, his beige button-down and charcoal vest not hiding his broad shoulders or defined muscles in the slightest. Even from where she stood at the bottom of the landing, Theo noticed the cocky curl of his lips and the dangerous glimmer in his gaze. The strands of his red hair were tousled, and she was sorely tempted to run her fingers through his locks.

  Despite the air of danger and confidence he donned, she’d been by his side earlier today. She’d heard the bitterness in his tone and witnessed the raw concern in his eyes. As much as he maintained a nonchalant air about the risk, he’d put his livelihood on the line for her. When his father found out about this whole mess, Silas would lose any chance of ever forging a path away from that terrible man. She’d never expected self-sacrifice from Silas, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart ache.

  The closer he came, the more her pulse sped, having nothing to do with her nerves and everything to do with her undeniable pull toward him.

  Feet away, Silas slowed and tilted the handle of the modified pistol in his holster forward. A grin lit his face when their eyes met, and a newfound determination sparked his. “Ready to go save your sister?” he asked, his steady voice a contrast to her shaky nerves. Two could play the bravado game.

  Theo lifted her chin and offered a conspiratorial grin. “I’m done with rotting about. Let’s go pay Blair our regards.”

  * * * *

  Night had stolen the streets by the time they neared Blair’s shack. Out of the many row houses lining the pathway, only one had steps that weren’t rotting, with a couple of men milling around the front porch. Theo’s skin prickled at the sight. Within minutes, the quiet of this street would vanish, and they would be the cause. Silas remained a whisper behind her, his presence helping her focus.

  Instead of striding past the house, Theo made the first right she came upon, the one they’d traveled down earlier when they’d brought the crates from Kylock Industries. In the northern stretch of Islington, the shattered windows of empty shacks glared at her as she walked by and the faint, sickly sweet scent of opium trailed out of more than a few. They’d hidden the automatons beneath one of those abandoned houses. Leaving crates out in the open was begging to get robbed, so they’d found a spot beneath the rotting back steps of a row house and stored the lot there.

  Together, Theo and Silas dipped past the front yard and through the narrow gap between houses, making their way to the back. The crunch of her boots on the dry leaves made far too much noise for her liking, and every shadow that shifted under the faint flickering light of the gas lamps caused her shoulders to tense. Silas crept beside her, barely making a sound when he slid his pistol out from the holster, his finger already on the trigger. As much as she itched to draw her own, she would be putting her hands to a different use the moment they reached those crates. Which meant trusting Silas to have her back.

  To her surprise, she did.

  They slowed upon approach to the familiar steps, a mere three houses away from where Blair and his lurkers were holed up. Her ears pricked at the distant sound of laughter and the casual chatter coming from outside the house—most likely the men mucking about out front. She crouched beneath the steps. Musty earth and cedar greeted her as she dragged the first of the boxes out. Silas set to work at once, prying the tops open with the multi-tool he carried on his holster in a leather thong. Within minutes, he’d set the limbs out on the patches of grass and dirt of the backyard, and he used his tool to assemble them into their proper fashion.

  Theo let out a grunt before heaving another crate out. Clods of dirt tumbled over her boots as she dragged the pieces out in front of Silas. She couldn’t help but steal glances while moving the parts around—catching the tinker in the midst of work was a rare treat. His intense focus, the deft way his long fingers worked at screwing the pieces into place, and the sheer competency sent a flush through her body, a reminder of how capable he’d been the night before.

  She shook her head, returning her focus to the present task while she finished dragging the crates out. Now wasn’t the time. She slipped one of her sheathed knives into the crack on the top of the crate, wiggling the blade back and forth until the top loosened. By the time she’d pried it open, Silas had assembled the first of his automatons, an older model of the clockwork maids Kylock Industries had become known for. In the shadows, even though the thing stood half her height, it had an eerily human form. She couldn’t help the shiver that rolled down her spine.

  Already, he’d set to work assembling a different clockwork doll, this one equipped with spades instead of hands. Theo’s lips quirked into a smile. How she’d utilize these marionettes was quite simple in her mind. She’d taken extra rest in the time between to fuel her magic as much as possible, since she’d be using more than average tonight. She gripped the top of another crate and ripped it off. All the while, she kept Blair’s shack in her peripheral vision, watching for any sign of movement from out back.

  Before long, five clockwork dolls the size of children stood before them, their bronze eyes shuttered and their limbs slack at their sides. Each of the automatons wielded the tools of their trade, whether it was a broom, a spade or a rake. The shadows they cast danced under the spare light. While Theo had worked on many, many automatons in the past, she had never attempted what they were preparing to do now.

  Silas stood from his crouch to wipe an arm across his sweaty forehead. He pulled out his pistol, the green flux of aether in the overhead tube casting a faint glow. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  His dark eyes gleamed and the air between them vibrated with pent-up tension. This plan was risky, but if she didn’t try, Theo knew she would forever regret not taking the chance. Tonight, she would bring Ellie home—she refused to accept any other alternative.

  Her nerves buzzed to the point where she couldn’t concentrate. So much could go wrong. Her life wasn’t the only one on the line, and when her gaze rested on Silas, overwhelming sadness swept over her at all they’d never explored and never would.

  Theo crossed the space between them, possessed by an audacity she normally wouldn’t indulge. He turned toward her, his mouth somber, and before he could speak, Theo pressed her lips to his.

  Like yesterday, the sensation of his lips brushing against hers and the sharp scent of amber and metal emanating from him thrilled her senses. For one single moment, she fell into the surrender of the kiss. As he gripped her waist, she released to the skies above all the worries marching through her mind. Her heart thundered while she melted, the heat from him providing the solace she sought.

  All too fast, Theo pulled away. As much as she wanted to drown herself in distraction, they had a job to do. Her lips still tingled from the kiss, and she ran a hand through her curls to sharpen her concentration. A smirk tugged at Silas’ mouth, but the way his dark gaze burned when their eyes met told a different story, of an intensity deeper than lust.

  “Let’s pay Blair and his boys a visit,” Theo said, allowing herself a smile as clarity descended. The stolen moment with him had banished the fears, nerves and cloudiness in her mind. She remained present in her body in a way he inspired, and if anything could have prepared her for the technomancy she was about to perform, that sort of jolt did.

  Theo closed her eyes for a moment, tuning into the rhythm and beat of the magic that pulsed through her whenever machines were nearby. The flicker of energy followed the pathways of the mechanisms before her. She’d never navigated one of Silas’ automatons before, but as she sank into the nearest clockwork doll, the complexity of his handiwork grew clear. He had a gift for tinkering, an artistry few could rival.

  Her powers filtered through the mechan
isms, firing them to life as the core of the first automaton sparked under her direction. Wisps of steam filtered around her, growing while she outpoured more magic. With a creak and a groan, the clockwork doll took one step forward. Then another. Theo sucked in a breath as she retreated from the depth of the automaton’s inner workings, keeping her power tethered to it.

  For many, the idea of controlling one automaton was exhausting. Five? A nightmare, if not impossible. However, most didn’t know she tapped into depths normal folks could only imagine with her powers. She’d received offers from places higher up in the Technomancers’ Guild, offers from King and Crown. However, each one of them would’ve required her to leave her family behind—to travel at her employer’s whim. Theo would always refuse.

  She guided the first automaton onward, on autopilot while it made its way through the grasses, the rubble and the patches of mud lining the backs of these houses. As the doll teetered forward, the steam spread through the clearing in slow tendrils as though a mist had settled throughout the land. Silas went into motion once the first clockwork doll traversed the distance to Blair’s house. The tinker moved swiftly, making nary a sound while he crept from shadow to shadow, unlike the quite visible presence of the automaton. When the clockwork doll crossed the threshold of Blair’s vicinity, any men he kept on watch would be paying mind to the obvious intruder.

  Leaving Silas to sneak in via the unattended side entrance.

  Theo’s throat tightened. Even though they’d scouted the place earlier today, too many variables lay outside their control. Silas would be entering, one man against however many of the lurkers crowded inside the shack, unless she drew them out in time. With that motivating force, she poured her energy into the next automaton, twisting her conductor ring as her power crackled through. In moments, the next clockwork doll began its march toward the den of thieves.

  Sweat prickled on Theo’s brow, and a couple of times she lost sight of Silas as he snuck closer and closer to the rundown house. Her heartbeat sped, but she channeled the extra energy into the next automaton, forming another tether to this one when she powered it to life. Already, the strain of holding on to this many of the clockwork dolls descended. The first one she’d sent forward crossed the first two houses and neared Blair’s.

  Shadows shifted in that direction, and in the distance, the heavy tread of footsteps pricked her ears. The clockwork maid had drawn attention. Theo sucked in a deep breath, her stomach twisting. Two more automatons to animate—except whoever approached would catch her in plain view. One well-placed shot would spell her fate, and where she stood, cover was a good sprint away. Too far.

  Silas disappeared into the shadows alongside the building. If Blair’s men killed her on the spot, the automatons would halt, the distraction would cease and Silas would meet his fate inside. Theo couldn’t let that happen.

  Damn the plan.

  Theo took off at a sprint, the conductor ring around her finger whirring while she engaged her powers.

  A rickety railing trailed from the back door of the house nearest to Blair’s, casting enough shadow to hide behind. Theo bolted in that direction, the increasing crescendo of the footsteps causing her heartbeat to ratchet up. Pebbles flew while she raced across the patchy ground, careful to keep as quiet as possible. The lookouts weren’t making the same effort, the clamor of their movements masking her own.

  Her breaths came shallower, and not from exertion, when she slowed in front of the shoddy stairwell. At this point, three of the automatons had reached the backyard, the hint of light from the slender moon gliding across their metallic surfaces. They trekked with the cyclical tread of a machine, though with more fluidity than the average automaton.

  Theo curled her fingers around the nearest step, gripping tight as she fought to catch her breath. The strain of manipulating all three at once would catch up faster than she liked. However, she couldn’t fail here. With Silas on the hunt for her sister, she needed to hold the line. And unfortunately for Blair and his men, Theo was one stubborn woman.

  Three shadowed figures burst into the backyard, their shouts echoing into the air. The bark of the first fired shot followed.

  Bullets would not halt the clockwork dolls.

  Theo lifted the automatons’ arms, their makeshift weapons on hand. The magic roared through her, only the careful control she’d cultivated over the years keeping her from burning out.

  Blair’s boys lifted their pistols, the gunfire drawing two more men from the back of the house. A chill trickled down Theo’s spine. If, at any point, those men figured out where she stood, she’d be another forgotten bloodstain. With only a handful of automatons to snare attention, soon, the distraction would fade, and they’d start searching for the source. At which point, if Silas hadn’t found her sister, all three of them were sentenced.

  She’d have to make the most of the weapons she controlled.

  Theo lifted her hands, channeling more power in through her conductor ring. The clockwork dolls marched on.

  Chapter Ten

  By the time Silas reached the decrepit old house, he’d come to the firm conclusion that the whole endeavor wouldn’t be credited as a fantastic idea. In fact, the plan had more holes than a sieve, and their chances grew slimmer with every passing second.

  He slid to the side of the brick exterior, his back scraping against the coarse surface as he remained in the shadows. Silas had switched the aether in his pistol off the moment he’d begun his approach, not wanting the subtle glow to give him away. Rough voices carried with the breeze from the front of the house, the sound causing his skin to prickle with how close to discovery he was skating.

  From the back of the yard, the first of his clockwork dolls teetered forward along the uneven ground. His chest pinched tight at the harm that would befall his creations, the work he’d spent countless, meticulous hours on. However, if they were to stand a chance at infiltrating the house, he would have to sacrifice the automatons.

  Silas inched closer to the side door, the rusted knob and splintered surface promising easy entry. The thump of his heartbeat resounded in his ears. He didn’t have the slightest clue as to what to expect when he entered, but the longer he took, the greater the danger he placed Theo in. When the shock of her distraction faded, whoever came a’calling would hunt her down.

  The first shout came from up front. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, urging him to action. Any moment, the lookouts would race past him, meaning that if he was still there, he’d be a dead man. No time for caution.

  He lunged for the doorknob and, with a quick jerk, tugged it open.

  The creak made him wince, but Silas ducked inside without a second glance.

  He shut the door behind him after he took the first steps inside the old house. The lingering stench of cigar smoke hung in the musty, thick air, and only a burnt orange lamp spilled light across the splintered floorboards. From the rotting desk in the corner, and the several chairs he spotted, the room appeared to be a study of sorts.

  The click of a safety echoed throughout the room.

  Silas’ hand leapt to his holster as sweat broke out on his temple. He lifted his head in the direction of the sound.

  “What sort of bricky bastard do we have here?” a loud voice boomed throughout the sitting room from the opposite end. A familiar guy with hardened eyes and a mean mug stood there, muzzle aimed in his direction. James Blair wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if someone threatened his operations, and the man was responsible for more than a couple of the bloodstains marring the cobblestones of Islington.

  Blair was the one person Silas had sought to avoid, and he’d stepped right to the occasion. Lady Luck had done him foul tonight.

  Blair’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of him. “Kylock? I thought you’d abandoned these streets a long time ago. Don’t suppose the golden goose dried up and now you’ve come begging?”

  Silas’ fingers itched to grab the pistol at his side, but Blair’s gaze bore into him as
if the man were daring him to make a move. Silas wasn’t that stupid. Even so, his throat dried at the sight of the muzzle staring him down with the promise of a quick death.

  The kid behind Blair couldn’t have been much older than any newsboy, but he had a knife in hand and chances were he knew how to use it. Silas swallowed, hard, his mind racing for some way—any way—to distract them.

  Shouts rang from outside followed by the bark of gunfire.

  Silas tensed his fingers by his holster. Blair’s gaze flickered toward the back window for a single moment.

  A moment was all Silas needed.

  Before Blair could react and pull the trigger, a tick-tick-tick sounded throughout the room as a copper sphere sailed toward the two men. Silas clamped his hand over his mouth and started backing away by the time the first clouds of smog infiltrated. His eyes watered as tendrils reached out to stroke his skin, but he kept a firm grip over his mouth and nose, dropping to the ground to avoid the spreading steam.

  Aether bombs weren’t the only tool in this tinker’s arsenal. The knockout spheres were another creation he’d toyed with, and they’d just saved him.

  Blair slumped to the floor, and his pistol slipped from his grasp with a clatter. The boy behind him crashed down as well, the slam reverberating around the room. When the knockout gas dissipated, Silas removed his hand from his mouth, careful to take shallow breaths. He wasn’t waiting around for anyone to investigate the source of the noise. Lifting his pistol, he flicked on the aether flux before he placed his finger on the trigger.

  Even though darkness ensconced the corridor leading away from the study and deeper into the house, Silas plunged through without hesitation. Time was ticking faster than one of his bombs, and he needed to find Ellie.

  Cobwebs tickled his arms, the sticky strands gumming on his shirt. He batted them away, aiming for the beacon of soft orange light at the end of the hall. A voice sounded from that room, and Silas slowed his tread, approaching with caution. He wouldn’t get taken unprepared again. With the overwhelming darkness, he failed to see the doorknob before it jabbed him in the arm.