by Lucy Saxon
‘I don’t know, sir. I’m not a mechanic,’ Aleks responded, keeping his tone polite. The sooner he humoured the man, the sooner he could get back to looking for work.
‘You seem to have a brain between your ears, lad. Figure it out.’ The man pushed the device at Aleks, who sighed but took it and looked it over. It was small and narrow, with a web of intricate chains linking its fragile gears, wires emerging and leading to nowhere; it was part of something bigger. There didn’t seem to be anything remarkable about it, as far as he could tell. It could be anything. Glancing up at the man, Aleks knew he wouldn’t be able to leave until he’d given an answer, so he turned the object over once more.
‘Is it part of a newscast screen?’ he guessed helplessly. The man raised an eyebrow so high that Aleks worried for a moment it would escape and disappear into his hair.
‘Why? What makes you say that?’ the old man asked, lips spread in a grin that showed his yellowed teeth.
‘Well, it’s small and delicate, so it’s probably not from a vehicle of any sort. It’s also not farm equipment, I know that much. Nothing this fragile would last ten minutes in a field when the snow is thick. It’s probably part of something with a sturdy casing, that isn’t likely to take much of a beating. Newscast screens are complicated technology, but they’re stationary and pretty well protected from the elements and things,’ Aleks reasoned slowly, feeling very much like he was back in school, having to answer a question in front of a class of twenty other children.
‘Wrong, wrong, and wrong again,’ the man told him. ‘It’s the wrist joint of a mecha. It would be useless in a newscast screen. And they aren’t complicated technology, boy! A sprog with a box of scraps could build one given enough time,’ he said, tapping Aleks on the forehead with his wrench. It hurt more than expected, and he rubbed the spot with an irritated frown. ‘You start tomorrow, seven sharp. Don’t be late.’
‘Excuse me?’ spluttered Aleks, wondering if the man was truly as insane as he seemed. ‘But I got it wrong! I don’t know a single thing about any of this!’ He gestured to the workshop at large.
‘Exactly! Means you’ve got a lot to learn, and won’t expect to be any good at it,’ the man replied. ‘I do hate those brats fresh out of an apprenticeship – or worse, the Academy – who think they know everything about everything and are doing me a favour by gracing me with their presence. You, my lad, will only expect to get everything wrong, and that’s what makes all the difference. So, seven on the dot. Do we have a deal?’
‘I don’t even know your name,’ Aleks argued pathetically.
‘Can’t you read, boy? It’s on the sign! I’m Luka,’ he said with an impatient roll of his eyes. ‘I can pay twenty silvers a week, with bonus commissions for any sales you make.’ Aleks blinked; that was far more than he’d expected from any job. It wasn’t like he was qualified for something of that pay grade; he hardly knew the first thing about mechanics.
‘Deal,’ he agreed impulsively, causing Luka’s face to split into a wide smile.
‘Knew you’d see it my way. Now get out – you’re interrupting my work.’
Aleks didn’t hesitate, offering the man a short bow before practically running to the door. He waited until he was a whole street away before stopping, replaying what had just happened and half wondering if he’d imagined it. He snorted to himself; even his imagination couldn’t come up with a man like Luka.
10
With a free day ahead of him, Aleks sought out the city’s main courtyard, wanting to see if the sketches he’d seen of the place in books lived up to reality. It was easy to find; not only was it signposted everywhere, but the enormous clock tower was a bit of a giveaway. It surprised him to see snowgrass this close to the coast – it usually only grew near the mountains, where the temperatures were coldest – but he soon realised it had probably been planted there on purpose, for the tourists.
The courtyard was a veritable hive of activity, and Aleks loved it on sight. The shops lining it were beautifully kept and selling expensive wares of all shapes and sizes. Many of them boasted ‘traditional Siberene crafts’, and Aleks realised the courtyard was probably as far into the city as most visitors got, especially if they were only staying for a short while. It was close to the shipyard, and seemed to have everything one might need for a good day in the city. His eyes lingered on a squat little shop selling handmade jewellery, the window displays sparkling in the bright daylight, and he wished he were rich enough to afford something to send home to his mother and the girls.
The only downside of the courtyard was the many guards; there were two at the Rudavin fountain and several more wandering about to keep an eye on things. With his hat on and his hood up, Aleks doubted any of them would look at him long enough to think him even vaguely suspicious – if, indeed, they knew to be looking for him in the first place – but their presence still set him on edge.
Squinting through the falling snow to look at the clock tower, he realised he needed to start finding his way back to the Compass if he wanted to eat before Bodan took him out to run Quicksilver. Reluctantly dragging his gaze away from the pretty trinkets in the jewellery shop, he set off in the direction he’d come, hoping he could remember the way.
The lunch rush was just starting when Aleks arrived, but Raina managed to grab him a plate from the kitchen, a grin on her face as she poured him a mug of hot apple cider.
‘Oh, that smells wonderful,’ he murmured. She smiled at him then darted off to do her job, reminding him of the stoats in the countryside; there one moment, gone the next.
Happily digging into his food, Aleks didn’t take long to eat, then helped with wiping down tables and depositing empty plates in the kitchen ready for cleaning.
When service was over, Bodan beckoned Aleks out to the stables, where he tacked up a fidgeting Quicksilver, the gelding pawing the ground in his eagerness to get going.
As much as he wanted to swing up into the saddle as soon as he had Quicksilver out of the stable, Bodan told him it would be best to walk alongside him until they got out of the city; the only people within city walls who rode horses were the kingsguard.
‘How’d your morning go, then, lad?’ Bodan asked as they walked, cap pulled low over his ears and gloved hands in his coat pockets.
‘Fairly well, I think,’ Aleks replied, still somewhat dazed from the experience. ‘I got a job, at least.’
‘Oh, aye?’
Aleks nodded, describing the interesting man and his workshop.
Bodan smiled, an amused expression on his face. ‘Oh, that Luka’s a funny old soul,’ he said wryly, directing them down a small street. ‘As old as the city itself, so he’d tell you. No one around to argue otherwise. He seems to have been here for as long as anyone can remember. Harmless bloke, even if he is as mad as a rabbit in a hurricane.’ Aleks smiled; he hadn’t heard that expression in a while, but it was apt. ‘Very clever man, so he is. All sorts of genius ideas rattling around in that brain of his, but a fair few idiotic ones too. Takes him a little while to figure out which is which.’ Aleks wondered if he’d turn up for work in the morning only for Luka to decide hiring him was one of his idiotic ideas, not one of his genius ones, and then he’d be back to square one.
‘You think I should keep the job, then?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘Oh, you’d be mad not to. Luka might be a few gears short of a mecha, but he knows what he’s doing and he’ll teach you all sorts. He’ll pay what he promises too – no underhand scheming from our Luka, which is more than you can say for most around here. Rumour has it his da was some rich lord, and Luka inherited a fortune when he died. Has to be something along those lines, or he’d not have the money to keep the shop going. He’s got a few regulars, but they hardly make him tax money, and apart from that he makes a sale about as often as the skies are clear.’
The two men stayed out as long as they could, Aleks jumping into the saddle and taking off as soon as they hit grass. But soon the sky grew a little
darker, the air a little colder, and Aleks knew he had to bring Quicksilver in for the night. Working him down through a stretched trot and walk, Aleks eventually got out of the saddle, legs aching in a familiar way when his feet hit the ground. No one accosted them for tax on their way back into the city, and Aleks tried to follow the route directions more closely, mentally noting street names and turnings so he could find his own way there. He hoped he could make enough time in his week for excursions with Quicksilver to become a regular thing, until he could settle on something more permanent. He might even be able to keep his horse with him in the city, if he was particularly lucky.
As promised, Aleks turned up at Luka’s door at seven in the morning, slightly trepidatious about what his first day of work would entail. Luka seemed surprised to see him, leaving Aleks to wonder if the man had forgotten he’d hired him, but he soon recovered and set Aleks to work sweeping the floor. It was the menial sort of task Aleks had expected, though it was made infinitely more challenging by the sheer amount of dirt and dust. As he swept Aleks had to listen to Luka ramble on about whatever it was he was making – despite him talking endlessly on the subject, he hadn’t actually told Aleks what the object’s function was – as well as any other thoughts that popped into the old man’s mind.
It was only after Aleks had swept and mopped the floors that Luka allowed him into his little corner of the workshop, showing him the workbench littered with scraps of metal and coils of wire, charred blueprints buried under veritable mountains of half-finished works. He handed Aleks an intricate metal puzzle comprised of gears and chains, then wound an alarm clock and challenged him to solve it before the alarm went off. Aleks stared at the object. It seemed to be an incomplete gear plate, and he presumed solving it would require making it work. From there it was just a matter of common sense, connecting gears that turned each other and moving chains so they didn’t tangle. It moved quite happily on its own when he set it down on the workbench, well within the allotted time, and Luka beamed widely at the sight of it. He didn’t say anything, however, soon turning back to his own work.
Luka let him leave at five, when the floor was absolutely pristine and some sort of typewriter-like device had been half-built by the elderly mechanic. As Aleks left he wondered what task he’d be set next. Washing the windows, maybe, or polishing the finished pieces? Were there even any finished pieces? He’d find out, he supposed.
11
Aleks joined Bodan, Ksenia and Raina at temple the next morning, dressed in the nicest clothes he owned, feeling very much out of place despite the familiarity of the service. It featured the same scriptures and songs they had back home, and he knew most of them by heart thanks to Grigori, but the huge, tightly packed temple with its elaborately painted walls was very different from the small, shabby temple in the centre of his village. It made him uncomfortable in a way he’d never felt before during a religious service. At least the service was similar; he’d worried the North might have adopted some of Anglya’s practices of letting the service deviate from scripture. Or worse, incorporating Mericus’s views of the New Religion. He hoped he’d get used to it; temple was one of the few places he found peace, and he didn’t want to lose that.
With no work on temple days, Aleks left Bodan and his family talking to some of their friends after the service, and decided to do a bit of exploring. He found himself in the city’s main courtyard once again. It was emptier than it had been the last time, but it filled up as temples all over the city emptied out and people made their way there. He bought a small bar of chocolate for two coppers from a stall set up by the grass, nibbling on the treat as he watched the crowds move around him.
A glint of silver and a female cry caught his attention as a particularly fierce gust of wind blew through the courtyard. A girl selling jewellery reached out fruitlessly as several of her finer wares blew straight off the table, scattering on the cobbles. Aleks jogged over, dropping to his knees to help her pick them up, and she smiled in surprise when he offered her a woven silk and silver bracelet.
‘Oh, thank you, you are kind,’ she said emphatically, gathering her skirts with one hand as she tried to grab a necklace and another bracelet with the other.
‘It’s no trouble,’ he insisted. ‘Here, let me help.’ He rescued a few more pieces of jewellery, giving them back to the girl. She studied one bracelet carefully, a forlorn look on her face. Aleks took a moment longer than he should have to tear his gaze away from her bright hazel eyes.
‘It’s ruined!’ she mourned, showing him the crack running down a large sapphire-coloured bead. ‘Father’s going to kill me!’
‘It wasn’t your fault. You can’t help the wind,’ he pointed out.
‘According to him, I can,’ she replied wryly. ‘I keep telling him that setting my table out this far is just asking for trouble, but he won’t let me bring it any closer to the shop. Says anyone already walking that way will see the shop itself, and I need to pull in customers from elsewhere. Thank you so much, sir, you didn’t have to.’ She counted the pieces he passed to her, smiling in relief when everything was accounted for.
‘I could hardly leave you scrabbling about on the cobbles there, could I? Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me,’ he told her, earning a sly smile.
‘And are you a gentleman, good sir?’ she asked, one eyebrow rising as she curled the end of her honey-blonde braid around her finger. Now that Aleks could get a good look at her, it was hard for him not to stare; she was about a head shorter than him, with fine features and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. When her eyes met Aleks’s a second time, he forgot to breathe for a moment.
‘I like to think so,’ he replied cheerfully, drawing a laugh from her lips. ‘Is that everything?’
‘Yes, thank you again – your kindness is very much appreciated.’ She offered him a shallow curtsey, which he returned with a quick bow. ‘I haven’t seen you about before, and I pride myself on remembering faces. Especially faces like yours.’ Aleks wasn’t sure if he’d just been complimented or insulted.
‘I’m new to these parts,’ he replied. ‘Travelled in from the West, and hopefully staying for a while. I’m still learning my way around, to be honest.’
She smiled at him, laying out her jewellery neatly on the table. ‘And how’s that going for you, then?’ she asked lightly.
‘Not as well as I’d anticipated,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘I’m a little fearful of wandering too far from the inn I’m staying at, in case I can’t find my way back in due time and get locked out for the night.’ The girl laughed, shaking her head in amusement.
‘Well, that won’t do at all,’ she declared. ‘How do you fancy having a tour guide? I’ve spent my whole life in this city. I’m sure I could get you back home before nightfall. And it’s the least I can do for the gentleman who stopped to help a girl pick up her beads.’
Aleks looked at her, surprised. ‘You’d do that? I mean, you don’t have to. I’m sure once I settle in I’ll start learning my way around.’
She laid a hand on his arm. ‘Please, it would be my pleasure,’ she insisted.
‘But don’t you have to work?’ Aleks questioned, gesturing to the table of jewellery. She smiled and shook her head, already beginning to pack the jewellery away into padded boxes.
‘Oh, no. I do this on Sundays just to pass the time. My da doesn’t expect much business on temple days. He won’t begrudge me a day off,’ she assured him.
‘Well, if you’re sure it’s no trouble, I’d be delighted for you to accompany me,’ he told her, bringing a wide grin to her face.
‘Brilliant. I’m Saria, by the way. The little shop over there belongs to my father. I’ll just need to take these over,’ she added, gathering the case full of jewellery boxes. She reached to grab the table too, but Aleks got there first, lifting it easily.
‘Allow me,’ he insisted. ‘And I’m Aleks.’ She gave him a look but then relented, allowing him to carry the table to her father’s shop, thoug
h the man didn’t seem to be around. When everything was put away Aleks smiled, offering her his arm. ‘Shall we?’ She giggled, dancing around to his side of the counter and slipping her arm through his.
‘We shall,’ she agreed. ‘Maybe I should head West for a while, if all the men there are such gentlemen,’ she joked, before giving him a sideways glance. ‘Unless you’re just a special case?’ Aleks felt his cheeks flush but tried to maintain his composure.
‘I, uh, think my ma would insist we’re all such gentlemen, or it would imply she’s failed to raise my three older brothers just as well,’ he told her, hating how he stuttered. He’d never been good at talking to pretty girls.
‘You’re the youngest of four?’ He nodded. ‘That must be nice. I’m an only child and it can get awfully lonely at times.’
‘Oh, I don’t know – there are times I wish I was an only child. While having three brothers is nice, being the youngest means being bottom of the pack. I love them dearly, but they didn’t half torment me growing up. Still do, really. It’s partly why I left.’
Saria shrugged, her shoulder bumping against his. ‘I suppose it must be difficult,’ she acquiesced, though she didn’t look convinced. ‘So where do you want to see first?’ Aleks brightened at that, looking around.
‘I don’t really know,’ he mused. ‘What are the best tourist spots? I can hardly write home to my family without something interesting to tell them!’ Not that he could really tell them about any of it, of course. But he wasn’t going to pass up Saria’s offer of company – it seemed like the kind of offer that didn’t come twice.
Saria laughed and tugged him over towards a long street that wound away from the shipyard.
‘I know just where to take you, then.’
Not only was Saria charming company but she was startlingly intelligent, able to tell him the history of almost every building in Syvana. She wanted to show him the kingsguard stables, but Aleks made up a hurried excuse; going to the Northern military base was just asking for trouble. They went to the First Temple, where all royal religious ceremonies took place, and then the Central Library, which had the largest collection of books in Siberene.
