by Lucy Saxon
They didn’t have nearly enough time to go round the whole library together, and Aleks carefully mapped the path there in his mind, resolving to come back in future. The enormous building contained more books than he’d seen in his entire life, and he planned to spend the odd day there reading to his heart’s content.
After that was the Academy, though they couldn’t enter as neither of them were students. Between the three buildings they’d walked halfway across the city and back, though with Saria leading the way through streets full of interesting shops and pretty little courtyards, occasionally detouring to show him something she thought he might enjoy, Aleks hardly noticed the distance.
‘I should get home. Da will be putting supper on soon, and he’ll worry if I’m late,’ Saria said, checking the timepiece above a newscast screen as they walked past, a stock market report playing out with no one stopping to watch. Anyone who cared that much about the stock market was probably rich enough to have a screen in their home.
‘Yeah, I should get back too. I’ll starve for the night if I miss evening service hours,’ Aleks joked.
‘Would . . . would you care to do this again?’ she asked tentatively, a rosy flush coming to her cheeks. ‘I mean, there’s still so much of the city I haven’t shown you. You’ll need to know all about it if you’re going to live here permanently,’ she added, her smile returning.
Aleks grinned, his confidence growing. ‘My own personal tour of the city? How could I possibly say no?’
‘Great.’ Saria’s smile widened. ‘I’ll have my table out again on Tuesday, but I only usually sell between nine and four. I could take you round the fabric district before supper?’
‘I should finish work about the same time, if I’m lucky. Meet you by the clock tower?’
Saria nodded, beaming. ‘I look forward to it. Can you find your own way back to your inn, or would you like me to walk with you?’ she offered.
‘I’m quite sure I can get back without too much trouble, and in any case, I should be walking you home. It’s getting late, and a girl shouldn’t wander the streets alone,’ he fretted.
She giggled. ‘You’re sweet, but I assure you, I’ve been wandering about alone later than this for most of my life,’ she said. ‘So I suppose I’ll bid you goodnight.’
Aleks offered a short bow, which she returned with a curtsey.
‘Until Tuesday,’ he confirmed, reluctantly turning away from her and towards the street that would lead him back to the Compass. He glanced over his shoulder, unable to help himself, but she had already gone. With a sigh, he continued on his way, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to compose himself. It wouldn’t do for Ksenia or Bodan to find out he’d spent the whole afternoon gallivanting about the city with a pretty girl; they’d never let him hear the end of it. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face, however; for the first time since leaving home, he felt normal.
It quickly became clear that Luka’s work hours tended to be ‘You can leave as soon as you finish this task,’ with the occasional additional task thrown in if the old man thought he was finishing too quickly. Aleks didn’t really mind, however tedious the tasks occasionally were; sorting inventory, organising the contents of the shelves, cleaning the tools. Every now and then he was rewarded with a more interesting job. Luka would sometimes give him a pile of assorted parts and challenge him to make something functional. Mostly he ended up replicating a device he’d watched the eccentric man build days before. Other times his work resulted in something completely different, surprising even himself and sending Luka into fits of laughter. When that happened, though, Aleks was sure he could see a pleased glint in the old man’s dark eyes.
These hours meant that nine times out of ten Aleks could head to the main courtyard and meet up with Saria after work. He would spend several hours with her most evenings, wandering about the city until they had to get home for supper. Sometimes she had something specific to show him, either a tourist spot or just an interesting part of the city she liked to frequent. A lot of the time they picked a random direction and simply started walking, too caught up in conversation to really care about where they were going. The two evenings he took Quicksilver out instead of meeting Saria, he found he spent half his time thinking about what she might be up to without him around.
Just over a week after Aleks first met Saria, he finally got a letter back from his family. A notice turned up at the Compass, and he went down to the post office to pay his redirection fee, pocketing the thick envelope to read as soon as he got back. Aleks nearly tore the letter itself in his haste to open it, spreading the papers out on the bar surface. There were two of them; one from his parents and one from his brothers. He skimmed the one from his parents, rolling his eyes at his mother’s protective worrying and repeated questions about whether he was eating enough. His father’s pride at his enlistment in the army caused nerves to coil in his gut, strengthening his resolve to not tell them that he’d left. So long as he kept paying the post office to have his mail redirected, he was confident he could keep up the ruse. He was relieved that no guards had turned up at his home; maybe they weren’t looking for him as desperately as he’d thought? Perhaps he’d got lucky and they didn’t care about one escaped cadet – or perhaps they thought he was dead in a ditch somewhere. And perhaps Shulga hadn’t found out about the journal.
Aleks folded the letters neatly back into the envelope, tucking them in his coat pocket and taking his breakfast plate through to the kitchen. He’d read his brothers’ letter later. ‘I’d better get to work,’ he told Ksenia.
‘Have a good day, lad. Will you be back late?’ Her eyes were knowing, and it made him flush; he’d probably talked about Saria more than he should have.
‘I, uh, don’t know yet. Possibly. But I’ll be here for evening service,’ he promised.
‘See you then, Aleks. Don’t let that girl of yours keep you out past dark.’
‘She’s not “my” girl,’ he insisted with a glare, and Ksenia laughed.
‘Well, you’ve only yourself to blame for that, haven’t you?’ she retorted, shooing him out of the door.
Luka was well into his latest project by the time Aleks arrived, and the teenager glanced curiously at the half-finished piece his boss had been working on the day before. ‘What’s the matter with this one? Is it not working?’ he asked, resting a hand on the machine. He was quite sure it was meant to be a device to cook eggs in, but considering it was of Luka’s invention it could just as easily have been some sort of explosive, or worse.
‘Oh no, it’ll work perfectly well when it’s finished. But this model’s going to be better,’ Luka replied, gesturing haphazardly to what he was building. Aleks didn’t see how it bore any resemblance to the first item, but if Luka said they had the same function, he’d take the old man’s word for it.
‘No reason why you can’t finish this one first, though,’ said Aleks. ‘Just because it’s not the best doesn’t mean it’s useless.’ Luka rolled his eyes, tongue between his teeth as he carefully soldered a tiny gear peg in place.
‘Waste of time, lad. Why work on inferior machinery when you know you can do better?’ he said distractedly. Aleks sighed. That explained why Luka’s workshop was full of half-finished inventions.
‘Where should I put it, then?’ he asked, lifting the piece of machinery. Luka shrugged, waving a hand vaguely at the rows of shelves behind him.
‘Wherever it fits in with the system.’
Aleks frowned. ‘What system?’
Luka looked up, incredulous. ‘You haven’t designed a system yet?’ he asked. Aleks shook his head, and the white-haired man tutted in annoyance. ‘Useless boy, honestly. Looks like you’ve got your job for the day, then. Organise that mess over there.’ Aleks gaped. How in storms was he meant to organise it when he didn’t know what half of it was?
‘It’ll take me far longer than a day, sir,’ he said.
‘Good; the longer it keeps you busy, the better. Now hop to
it or you’ll not finish in time, and then your lady friend will be heartbroken.’ Aleks spluttered, eyes wide. He hadn’t said a single word to Luka about Saria; how did he know? ‘Oh, don’t give me that. You’ve got that look about you, it’s obvious,’ the man insisted.
Aleks felt himself turn bright red for the second time that day, taking the half-finished egg-cooking device with him as he went to the opposite end of the workshop, as far away from Luka as possible. It was as good a place to start as any, he supposed.
12
Almost a month later, Aleks was quite happily settled in Syvana, wondering why he’d ever doubted he’d find happiness here and gone South instead. His heart still pounded and his mouth went dry at the sight of a blue and black uniform or a guard’s white hat, but he was learning to curb his instinct to duck and run. Even Quicksilver seemed happy enough, though Aleks constantly felt guilty about how little time he had to exercise the gelding.
He was also far less happily falling even deeper for Saria’s charms – not that she seemed to notice. She often told him how refreshing it was to have a man around who wasn’t trying to court her, telling him of the suitors her aunt sometimes brought round to dinner. Regardless, he listened sympathetically to her stories and wished he could regale her with a few of his own, but his life was terribly boring compared to hers; the parts he was willing to tell her, anyway. She had laughed when he told her as much, insisting he tell her what it had been like growing up in the village. He’d talked for almost half an hour before he realised he’d been speaking exclusively about his three brothers rather than himself.
Though he and Saria had grown close, he had yet to work up the nerve to tell her how he felt; she was far, far out of his league, being both the daughter of a wealthy, respectable shop owner and the kind of woman who turned heads wherever she went. Aleks doubted her father would approve of her dating him, providing she was even interested to begin with, of course. But there were times when he caught her eye and couldn’t help but feel she was waiting for something – for him to kiss her, maybe?
He shook his head to clear his thoughts of Saria – Luka would never shut up if he caught him daydreaming again – and returned his attention to the alarm clock he was trying to build, leaning his back against the wall with the clock resting precariously on his knees, balanced on a sheet of steel. Everything on the shelves was finally organised and catalogued in his notebook, allowing Aleks to quietly work his way through the list of half-finished devices he thought he had a fair chance of completing. Luka would probably appreciate him clearing some shelf space, and if he could make some commission money, all the better.
‘Lad, what in storms are you doing down there?’ Aleks nearly dropped everything in his lap as he jumped in fright, head snapping up to see Luka eyeing him in bemusement.
‘Working,’ he replied, holding up the half-gutted clock. It just needed a few gears and a chain or two and he’d be finished. All the real work had already been done for him.
‘But . . . why? I made that clock months ago. I’ve already made six better ones since then!’ Luka protested, shaking his head. Aleks raised one eyebrow, jerking a thumb at the small pyramid of six alarm clocks, all in various states of progress.
‘No, you started six better ones since then. You never finished them,’ he pointed out. ‘Since you weren’t doing anything with all this, I figured I might as well see if I can sell these and clear a little space around here. You’re running out of room for all the new things you’re abandoning.’
‘I don’t abandon, brat – I redesign. I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ Luka retorted. Aleks stifled a laugh, carefully reaching for the small box of spare parts he’d appropriated from Luka’s workspace.
‘Yes, well, redesigning doesn’t make the previous designs useless, just inferior. Someone will still buy them. It’s not bothering you, I know – I’ve been doing this for a week and a half already and you’ve only just noticed. But I can stop, if you have something else for me to do?’ he asked, words dripping with politeness. Luka gave him a long stare, his slightly fogged brown eyes unnerving Aleks, as they always did when he went so long without blinking.
‘You’ve organised the shelves?’ he queried.
‘Organised, labelled and catalogued. All in here, if you’re looking for something in particular,’ he added, reaching for his notebook and tossing it to the man. Luka caught it easily, flipping it open and skimming the pages, glancing up only once to give Aleks a grudgingly impressed look.
‘Thorough,’ he said simply, bringing a flicker of a smile to Aleks’s face.
‘I like to be.’
Luka huffed, giving him a look. ‘Don’t get smart about it, lad.’ He passed the notebook back to Aleks, then leaned back against the edge of a shelf. ‘You know there’s another workbench in the basement – you can bring it up if you want. Working on the floor is all right for clocks, but you’ll lose a leg once you start needing a little more heat for soldering. When you finish the devices, set them up in the display case by the door. Might as well let people know we have things to sell.’
‘Will do, sir,’ Aleks replied with a grin, getting to his feet. Apparently satisfied, Luka wandered back to his workspace and Aleks made for the door to the basement. His eyes went round when he flicked on the light; the basement was in an even worse mess than the shelves upstairs. But he could see the workbench buried under a small mountain of parts and half-finished machines. Sighing to himself, he pulled out his notebook and pen; he had a lot of work to do before he could even think about dragging out that workbench.
He made fairly steady progress through the chaos in the basement. Instead of moving the workbench all the way upstairs, he decided to keep it down there and use the small basement as his workspace. The elderly mechanic didn’t seem to mind, as long as Aleks kept the door open so he could hear when Luka called.
As he worked on a half-finished typewriter, Aleks heard the faint tinkle of the bell above the door of the shop. He set down his tools and made for the stairs; Luka didn’t have the patience for customers. Reaching the top of the stairs, he peered through the open door to see who was there, and froze. He could only see the man’s back, but he would recognise a military uniform anywhere, the cut distinctly different from a kingsguard uniform. Quietly, he edged back from the door, far enough that he could still see through but wouldn’t be noticed if the man happened to turn. What on Tellus was a soldier doing in Luka’s shop?
‘Excuse me, sir,’ the soldier barked, making Aleks forget to breathe for a moment. He knew that voice. Lieutenant Shulga. His heart sped up and his stomach squirmed so violently he thought he would be sick. There was only one reason Shulga would be here; he knew Aleks had the journal, and he wanted it back. How had the man caught up with him? How had he tracked him all the way to Luka’s? It had been over a month since Aleks had escaped. Did the entire army know? Did they want him back in Rensav, or worse? Panic rising, Aleks glanced towards the front door of the shop; he wouldn’t be able to make it out without being noticed. He was trapped.
‘I’m busy,’ Luka replied. ‘If you’re looking to buy something, come back another day.’ Aleks doubted he’d even looked up from his work to notice there was a soldier in the room.
‘I’m not here to buy something. I’m here to ask you some questions about a particular person of interest to the Crown,’ Shulga said curtly.
There was a clink as Luka set down whatever he was working on. Aleks bit his lip so hard it bled, mentally praying to all the gods for some sort of saving grace. This was it; Shulga would ask about him and Luka would tell the man exactly where he was.
‘What makes you think I have any knowledge about what interests the Crown?’ Luka sounded irritated, and while his attitude might have amused Aleks in any other situation, now it only unnerved him. He’d seen what Shulga could do when he was angry.
‘We have evidence of a young man repeatedly visiting this building. A Western lad, dark hair, blue eyes, about
five foot ten, scrawny. He’s wanted on the charge of military desertion, and I warn you, old man, the Crown always gets what belongs to it. If you know of this man, a Cadet Aleksandr Vasin, I insist you tell me where he is immediately.’
Aleks held his breath, eyes squeezed shut. This was it. He could say goodbye to his freedom, and probably his life. Shulga wouldn’t let him live, not when he knew Aleks had the journal.
‘Does this look like the sort of place a brat might hang about?’ Luka snapped in reply. ‘Let alone a Western one. Bloody farm boys don’t know a pipe wrench from a spanner.’
Aleks’s eyes snapped open. What?
‘Sir, this is no joking matter. I demand you tell me the location of Cadet Vasin. I don’t want to have to . . . coerce you.’ Shulga’s tone was deadly, but Luka simply snorted.
‘You can coerce all you like, my friend. I can’t tell you things I have no knowledge of, no matter what you do to me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, and you’re in the way.’
‘Si–’
‘Are you deaf,’ Luka interrupted, ‘or just stupid? I said I don’t know anything. So are you going to stand here all day and harass a poor old man into giving up information he doesn’t have, or are you going to bugger off and let me get on with my work?’
‘I, well, sir, are you accusing me of lying about evidence of this man’s presence in your shop?’ Shulga demanded, clearly flustered.
‘I’m accusing you of being an idiot,’ Luka replied bluntly. Aleks had to bite the sleeve of his jacket to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. ‘I told you, there are no young men in my shop, military deserters or otherwise. I have a girl who delivers my groceries once a week, but she’s blonde as sunshine, so I doubt she fits your profile.’
