The Prince of Machines (The Last Mechanics)

by Holly Law

  The Prince stepped back and considered Eldwin for a moment. His face was calm and almost bored. “I will deal with you when we get to Melink. Take him away,” the Prince said dismissively, waving his hands negligently at the soldiers. The soldiers dragged her brother from the room. Elisha choked back a sob. She thought they had finally been free.

  “You don’t need to pursue and hassle the twins,” the mechanic said, his gruff face serious and calculating. “They won’t harm you. Their abilities are separate.”

  “Explain that to me,” the Prince said as he paced the room once again.

  “The boy can turn machines off, not on. The girl can turn machines on, not off. Neither can create the type of machine you fear by themselves. It would do you more good to keep them separate. It wouldn’t be necessary to kill them.”

  The Prince paused his pacing. “I will consider what you have said. I will leave you for now. I expect further updates on your progress.”

  “You’ll get them when I have time,” the mechanic grunted and turned back to his machine.

  The Prince looked slightly irritated by his comment, but said nothing. The Prince walked to the hallway. Then he paused and looked down the hallway for a long moment. He reached into his pocket and, to her surprise, pulled out the mechanical bird she had made at dinner so long ago. He held it out in his hand and attached something it its leg. It flapped its wings and flew into the air.

  It launched itself into the air. It circled and spun like an acrobat, being every bit as amazing as it had been that first night. It circled the room and then it swooped down. It went straight to her with one final swoop. It landed on a metal tube and cocked its head at her. A piece of paper was attached to its leg.

  Elisha stared at it in shock and horror. Then she looked down at the Prince. He was looking straight at her. His eyes locked on hers, and Elisha froze like a deer caught by a hunter. He smirked and bowed to her. He turned and left. Elisha stared at him, not understanding. He knew where she was, but he had chosen not to pursue her.

  She looked at the little bird again and detached the paper from its leg with shaking hands. She unfolded it; inside was a simple note in the Prince’s elegant hand writing. “Elisha, I have chased you enough. If you wish your brother you must come for him in Melink. Perhaps there we may strike a bargain for your brother’s life. I will wait for you, Corpal.”

  To be Continued…

  Excerpt from Empress in Hiding

  Maggie double checked the paper work placed before her as her patient watched her with eager eyes. Everything was progressing as it should. The muscle growth was impressive and encouraging. The patient’s heart was regaining strength and that was an even better sign.

  Maggie smiled at the patient. “Do you want to try standing today, Patricia?” Maggie asked, putting the chart down.

  “I would,” Patricia said her voice soft and weak.

  “Are you sure that’s best?” Patricia’s husband worried. He was standing nearby, his eyes watching with unease and not full trust. Alarm and panic edged his voice.

  “She’s made a great deal of improvement,” Maggie assured him. “She’s at the point where she should be able to manage it. Moving her muscles has become easier and no damage has come from more extreme movements.”

  “I want to try, Charlie,” Patricia said softly.

  With Maggie’s help, Patricia sat up and turned in bed. Patricia put her feet on the ground for the first time in two months. Her legs were thin and had very little muscle tone, but it was enough to try. Patricia rose slowly. Every movement was filled with great care as her fragile muscles strained. Maggie watched, wary of any sign that it was too soon. But Patricia stood successfully, her eyes alight with joy. Her husband stood rigid, ready to help if his wife looked to be in danger.

  “Good,” Maggie said with an encouraging smile. “I’ll help steady you if you need it. You’re doing great. Can you lift your foot?”

  With extreme care, and not a little difficulty, Patricia managed a slow, shuffling step. Tears sprang to her eyes as she did. Maggie worried at first that they were from pain, but the smile on Patricia’s face showed them to be of joy. The woman took a few more shuffling steps as Maggie hovered near her protectively, her hands ready to aid her at the first sign of weakness.

  A minute later, she had taken the few steps to her husband. They embraced and both wept in joy. Patricia had done what she hadn’t been able to manage for two months. “This is amazing,” Charlie said, hugging his wife with great care. “Thank you, Dr. Morrin.” The words came out with a great deal of effort and force.

  Maggie smiled at the reluctant words. It would not be the first or the last time someone had doubted her and was surprised by the results. She would be surprised if that was the only time that day.

  “There is still a long road ahead of us,” Maggie told him. “But we’re heading in the right direction.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Patricia said her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

  “Seeing you up and moving is enough for me,” Maggie told her gently. “Now, let’s get you back to bed. I think this is enough movement for your legs today. We’ll have to build it back slowly.”

  Maggie helped Patricia back into bed. It was a slow process, but everyone was satisfied. Maggie left them and headed off to check on her two other patients. A nurse stopped her in the hallway.

  “Clefta wants to talk with you,” Helen told her with a sympathetic smile.

  Maggie wrinkled her nose. That was not news she wanted to hear. Being called into speak with her supervisor never meant good news. “Thanks,” Maggie said with a sigh. “I’ll go see him. Any idea about what?”

  “No idea,” Helen said with a shake of her head. “You know he doesn’t really talk to me. He didn’t seem too grumpy though.”

  “That’s something at least.”

  Maggie strode down the hallway, knowing Clefta didn’t like to be kept waiting. She stopped outside his office door and quickly checked herself over. Clefta was also a stickler for perfection. She straightened her scrubs a bit and knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” came a short reply.

  Maggie stepped into the meticulous office. Every book was in its place and there wasn’t a speck of dust on a single surface. There was a file open on the desk in front of Clefta. Jaris Clefta regarded her coolly as she entered. His business suit spoke volumes about his position of power. His black hair was cut severely and she doubted his tanned face had ever cracked a smile. His dark eyes were impossible to read.

  “Sit,” Clefta told her.

  Maggie obeyed instantly and forced herself not to fidget with her hands nervously. She knew Clefta hated her and was looking for any excuse to get rid of her. She hoped he had not finally found a way. The Eranian had been out to get her ever since he had taken over the division. The number of Dorites at the hospital had dropped substantially since his arrival six months earlier and he did not approve of her methods at all.

  “You have a new patient who will be arriving soon,” Clefta told her. His tone was clipped and disapproving. “You were requested as a last resort.”

  “I will see to the patient when he or she arrives,” Maggie said and she felt confused. Clefta had never informed her of any patients’ arrivals before. He had nothing to do with her work at all, except to criticize it.

  “This is his file. You will not share it with anyone. Is that clear?” Clefta said sternly, his dark eyes fierce.

  Maggie looked at him confused for a moment. She had never had problems with patient confidentiality before. “I have always respected the privacy of my patients.”

  “This one is different. His name and identity cannot be made public under any circumstances.”

  “I understand,” Maggie said simply and the file was slide across the table to her. She opened it carefully, curious about who would warrant such a threat. She stared at the name and picture on the cover page in complete shock. “Are you serious?”

>   Kristen pushed the shopping cart through the aisles. double checking her list as she went. She seemed to have gotten everything. Everything she could afford to get at least. She brushed a strand of light brown hair out of her face when it fell in front of her view of the list. She walked to the front of the store, dodging several carts and excusing herself around those glancing at the shelves.

  The lines at the front were long. Kristen sighed and leaned against her cart. She glanced at the novels on the shelves near the register. Nothing interested her—they were the same as they had been last week. The candy looked enticingly at her from colorful packages. She ignored those. Briefly, her eyes glanced over the tabloids to see what the current scandals were.

  In one corner there was a brief indication a famous actress had an affair with another actor. Kristen thought that might have been the third such story on that actress in just as many years. There was another blurb about Free Dori disbanding after major arrests. Kristen rolled her eyes at those rumors. She knew enough of the members of Free Dori to know they were still going strong—even if she preferred they weren’t. The majority of the front page was taken up by three glamorous looking people. One was a handsome and arrogant Eranian man and the other two were pretty models. He had apparently been on a date with both of them. He was easily recognizable as the crown prince of Erania, or the Lorran as the Eranians referred to him. She didn’t like his behavior, but it was fairly typical of an Eranian. She wondered why the magazines always felt obligated to report on his antics. That was normal behavior for him.

  She rolled her eyes and noticed the woman in front of her was done. She pushed her cart forward and unloaded groceries. The attendant ran them with a bored expression and Kristen paid with the card her mother had given her. She briefly thanked the oblivious attendant and wheeled the cart outside.

  She saw a pair of familiar faces on the way out to her car. Devon Mercolai smiled at her when he saw her. His pale brown hair was a mess from the wind, but that didn’t detract from the rest of his well-kept appearance. His father, Eric, greeted her with a smile as well. His face was far more weather beaten than Devon’s and had several scars marking his cheeks and one on his brow line.

  “I haven’t seen you two for a few weeks,” Kristen said by way of greeting.

  “We’ve been out of town,” Devon told her, “enjoying the last bit of summer.”

  “How’s your mother?” Eric asked her. His gray eyes were shrewd as he glanced over her groceries. “She must still be busy at work if you’re doing the grocery shopping.”

  “I help out how I can. She is busy though. You know how things are.”

  “It’s also a tight month if your cart is an indication,” Eric observed. “You know I’m willing to help out if you need it, Kristen. You don’t need to…”

  Kristen waved a hand dismissively at Eric, cutting him off. They had been over that many times before. “You know we don’t want your help, Eric. We don’t want to be indebted to you,” Kristen told him, “but thank you for the offer.”

  As she spoke Devon had hurriedly taken off his dusty blue jacket and draped it across her shoulders. She looked at him confused and Eric nodded with approval. Devon whispered in her ear, “Your makeup was fading.” Kristen went pale as she looked at him. With that one, simple gesture Devon had just saved her life. It was a small thing, but Kristen was deeply grateful.

  “Thank you,” Kristen said, fighting back tears. “If anyone had seen…Thank you, Devon.”

  “Anything for you, Kris,” Devon told her with a reassuring smile.

  “I’ll give you back the jacket when school starts if I don’t see you before then. If you need it sooner, you can come get it,” Kristen told him in a rush of words. School started in two days. She couldn’t have any mistakes like that then or she would be dead.

  “That will be fine, Kris,” Devon assured her. “Take care of yourself. I look forward to seeing you at school. Stay out of trouble.”

  “Thanks again,” Kristen told them as she continued to push her cart towards her car.

  Kristen dropped the last bag of groceries onto the counter at home. She put away everything that needed to be refrigerated or frozen in a rush. Then she raced to the bathroom. She slipped Devon’s jacket off her shoulders and examined her arm.

  Devon had been correct. Just the hint of gold and black showed on her upper arm where her carefully applied makeup had rubbed off. If that tattoo was seen, it would mean her life. They were banned by the Eranians that made up most of the government of Duras.

  Kristen reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out the specialized foundation that normally did its job so well. She carefully dabbed the makeup over the spot on her arm where the tattoo was showing and then went over the rest of the seemingly invisible tattoo as a precaution. She smoothed the edges meticulously until there wasn’t a hint of it. She had practiced that skill for years and was satisfied with the result.

  She walked back into the kitchen and started putting away the rest of the groceries. It was quick work and there wasn’t much left to do. She was just throwing out the last plastic bag when she noticed the message button on the phone was blinking. She walked over to it and pressed the button.

  The message proved to be from her mother. “Hi Kristen, I tried to call your cell phone on my last break, but it’s not working again,” her mother said in a quick rush of words that showed her hectic schedule. “I just wanted you to know I won’t be home until late tonight because of a new patient. I was hoping you could help me out. I forgot my lunch and would really appreciate it if you could bring it over. I hope I’ll see you tonight. Stay out of trouble.”

  Kristen thought her mother sounded exhausted, but that was nothing new. Her mother pulled the longest shifts at work. Kristen pulled out her cellphone to figure out what the problem was. She lifted it up and the battery on the back clattered to the floor. Kristen sighed and clicked it back on. It promptly fell back to the ground. Kristen opened a drawer and pulled out duct tape. She carefully applied it to the back, ensuring that the battery was secure.

  She then set out to make dinner. She took quick stock of everything they had and got to work. She settled for a traditional Dorite meal with a bead-like pasta and chopped vegetables. She covered it with a slightly tangy sauce. She ate her portion quickly and threw the other half into a plastic container. Her mother would be very hungry after working all day.

  Kristen went to the driveway and climbed in her car. She turned the key and her car gave a sick, whining sound. She cringed and bit her lip. That sound was not encouraging. She tried the key one more time and the sick sound continued, but the car turned on. She sighed in relief. The last thing she needed was car trouble.

  She carefully backed out of the driveway and the car felt horrible. She put it in drive and started heading to the hospital. The car groaned as it moved and shimmied slightly. She noted that the engine light was on a few minutes from home.

  “Stupid car,” Kristen said shortly. It always gave her problems

  The hospital was another fifteen minutes down the road and she bit her lip the entire way, hoping to make it. She pulled into the parking lot for the hospital and noted the engine light was flashing. She cringed as she pulled into the nearest spot and turned off the car.

  She was more than glad to get out of the car with both her purse and the lunch bag for her mother. She walked to the hospital and noticed the difference instantly. There were four guards at the entrance who looked stern and distinctly unfriendly. Their colors marked them as Eranian and she found that strange. She went to step into the main room and they instantly stopped her.

  “Everyone entering is subject to search,” one of the security guards told her.

  Kristen frowned. “Since when?” Kristen asked.

  “Since today,” the guard said coldly. “Either submit or leave.”

  “I’m just bringing my mother her dinner. Everyone here knows me.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Wh
at’s it going to be?”

  “I guess you’re going to have to search me,” Kristen said uncomfortably.

  They opened the food and checked it, taking a quick bite. That bothered her immensely and offended her. They searched her purse, dumping the contents on a table and then shoving the non-dangerous items back inside. They found her ID and checked it against her, scrutinizing her with care. Then they patted her down. Kristen found it humiliating and nerve-racking. Kristen always kept an old family knife under her clothes for protection. Eranian men were notorious for not keeping their hands to themselves. She had to shift carefully to keep them from finding the family heirloom and she felt it spin around her calf out of their reach.

  “You’re good to go,” the security guards told her dismissively.

  “How long is this security in place for?” Kristen asked them as she retrieved her things.

  “As long as necessary.”

  “That’s descriptive,” Kristen said irritably and walked away. She headed straight to the elevators. She stepped inside and pressed the button for her mother’s floor. She would have to straighten out her purse when she got there.

  She stepped out of the elevator and straight into more security. She was forced to submit to a full search for a second time. She clenched her jaw and suffered the humiliation. These security guards seemed even more stern and unfriendly.

  Kristen smiled at them pleasantly. “Have a nice day,” she told them with a friendliness she did not feel.

  Kristen walked straight to the front desk. The nurse behind it looked frazzled. Her face was slightly pale and her eyes were darting back and forth over things on her desk. Her eyes looked wide and vaguely frightened as she looked up. Relief washed over her features as she recognized Kristen.

  “What’s going on, Paula?” Kristen asked. “I was searched twice on the way up here.”

  “There is a new patient,” Paula said softly. “Some big wig from Erania.”

  “Fun. Who gets the joy of dealing with that patient?”