The Lantern's Ember

by Colleen Houck

  “She wanted to go on a trip. I was hoping if I helped her, she’d take me with her.”

  “Well, it’s too late for that. She’s gone. Abducted by a vampire.”

  “A…a v-v-vampire?” the boy stammered.

  “Yes. And you’re going to help me get her back.”

  Finney swallowed and then reached behind him to pick up an ocular device with different-colored pieces of glass connected to a frame. He removed his bifocals and screwed in the device, then flipped the colored lenses up and down, looking at Jack. “Fascinating!” he said. “There’s a sort of vapor around you that my naked eyes can’t register.”

  “I’d wager there’s a lot your naked eyes can’t register.”

  The boy’s face turned as red as his hair. “Tell me about Ember,” the young man said boldly as he picked up his clothing and dressed. Jack found himself impressed with the lad, even though he was about the skinniest fellow Jack had ever seen.

  “She’s lost in the Otherworld,” Jack explained. “I know you made those weapons for her and have been helping her with spells. You’re going to help me track her.” He glanced at the boy’s worktable and was surprised to see it littered with gadgets and parts and an interesting armature that resembled a crude version of an automaton. He raised his eyebrows.

  The boy was a tinker at heart, an inventor with rare talent in the mortal world. Then again, witches did tend to inspire humans to invent, and Finney had spent a good portion of his life trailing Ember’s footsteps.

  “Bring along whatever things you want,” Jack said, “but know you’ll have to carry your own bag. Humans aren’t allowed in the Otherworld, so you’ll have to stick close to me. My light will hide you, but only if you don’t stray too far.”

  Finney filled his bag and asked if they’d be taking Jack’s phaeton. The lantern snickered but then sobered. “I don’t have a carriage.” As he said it, he realized how badly Finney was going to slow him down. He hadn’t thought of summoning his horse, but now that he did, he decided it was a good idea. “We’ll take Shadow. Come along then.”

  He streamed out the window and Finney gasped again as Jack materialized on the other side. The boy leaned far away from the hovering pumpkin as it floated outside to join Jack. Finney threw one leg over the sill and leapt down, stumbling clumsily as his pack fell open and his inventions spilled out onto the snow.

  “Hurry,” Jack said, though he didn’t bother to help Finney gather his things. When he was ready, Jack led him to the bridge, wincing at the noise the young man made as he walked.

  Jack knew how stubborn Ember was. Surely even if she didn’t care about the danger to herself, she’d be hesitant to put her friend in harm’s way.

  When they got to the crossroad, Shadow thundered across the bridge, leaping from the mist and rearing on his hind legs. Snorting and blowing smoke from his nostrils, the horse danced and shrieked, doing his job to frighten the young man away. “It’s all right, Shadow,” Jack said, stroking the horse’s mane. “He’s with me. We’ve got to find Ember on the other side.”

  At the mention of Ember, the horse nudged Jack’s chest and looked around for the apples she usually brought him. When the horse quieted enough to mount, Jack said to Finney, “Up with you, then. Tie your bag around your chest. Hold tight to Shadow’s reins. He doesn’t take to new riders easily.”

  Jack cupped his hands, giving Finney a boost. Once the boy was astride, Jack called his pumpkin. It floated over, sitting on his palm. “Are you ready, lad?” he asked.

  The boy nodded. He was nervous, but he was taking it all very well, considering.

  Smiling almost as widely as his pumpkin, Jack whispered instructions to it. Then he tossed the globe up in the air a few times, drew back his arm, and threw the pumpkin as hard as he could inside the dark bridge. As the fiery ball sped past the horse, Shadow screamed and lunged after it. Finney turned back to see if Jack was following, but the man had turned into fog again. Finney shivered, and goose bumps erupted on his arms as Jack’s fog passed over him.

  Finney held on for dear life, his pack bouncing up and down noisily as the horse galloped at speeds no natural horse could travel. When Finney dared to look down, he saw sparks flying from Shadow’s hooves and a trail of black smoke curling in their wake.

  One moment they were on the bridge, and the next the horse’s hooves met steel and they passed through a barrier into a new land, one Finney had never even conceived of. Night had turned to day. Wood turned to iron. A small farm town turned into a bustling city, much larger in scope than he’d ever dreamed possible.

  And Finney felt like he had finally come home.

  * * *

  * * *

  “Loren, you deceitful little witch,” her husband said as he entered her chamber.

  “How nice to have you grace my chambers, Melichor.”

  “Don’t act innocent. You think I haven’t noticed your blasted minions sneaking in at all hours of the day and night? You’re up to something, and you’re fooling yourself if you think I won’t find out what it is.”

  The high witch shifted her thin gray hair over her shoulder. “As you know, my dear, I don’t have the energy left to do anything. You hook me up to your machine at every opportunity. I can barely walk, let alone plan anything.”

  “Perhaps. But just to be certain, I’m instructing the doctors to take double your energy today.”

  A shiver ran down the witch’s spine, but she bowed her head demurely. “As you wish, Melichor.”

  “I think I prefer hearing my formal title fall from your lips,” he said.

  “Of course, my lord.”

  When he left, the high witch’s legs trembled and she fell back onto her bed. A tear leaked from her eye and was quickly lost in the papery wrinkles of her cheek.

  * * *

  * * *

  Ember woke to the hum of the dome as it rotated slowly in the sky. She raised her arms above her head, stretched, and sighed contentedly before sinking back into the wide, luxurious bed.

  When she’d finished her bath and combed out her hair the night before, she’d found a robe draped over a hot iron rod and a thick pair of slippers waiting for her. On the table beside her bed were two silver food domes with intricate designs on the edges, covering the most splendid feast she’d ever seen. Tiny sandwiches that smelled of mint, tea-boiled eggs, thin slices of pink fish with herbs on top, shepherd’s pie, a round loaf of bread so dark it was black. Ember ripped off a chunk and nibbled, enjoying the sour, spicy taste. Beneath the smaller dome, she found a bowl of berries with clotted cream and bright green butter, triangular pastries shaped like gears with a whortleberry jam, and white puffs dusted with an orange powder that dissolved on her tongue and made her lips pucker from the sweet and sour flavors. She ate a little bit of everything except the green butter and set aside the pastries for her morning repast, then tucked no less than a half-dozen pillows around her body and fell asleep with her room bathed in starlight.

  She had no idea how long she’d slept, but sunlight slanted into the room, the rays moving over her legs and toes as the tower dome spun on its axis. There was movement at the door.

  Dev poked in his head. “Finally,” he said. “I was thinking you’d sleep the entire day away.”

  “What time is it?” Ember said, sitting up with her back resting against the pillows.

  Entering the room, Dev flipped back his jacket and pulled a pocket watch from his gray herringbone vest. The gesture reminded her of Jack. “It’s nearly three,” he said. “Payne has arranged our transportation on a skyship. The captain is discreet, which will work in our favor, but we’ll have to get to the skyport with enough time to find the Phantom.”

  Ember chose to ignore all the strange words Dev was spouting and instead focused on his new clothes. His waistcoat was gray herringbone, and his cutaway coat and trousers were solid gray in a shade or two darker. His crisp white shir
t made his skin look less pale, even though the necktie he wore was a bronze-rust color.

  “Did Payne send those up?” Ember asked. “Or have you been down to the shops without me?”

  “Despite the fact that you slept half the day away, no, I did not leave the tower. Payne sent these up. He also purchased some clothing for you. Would you like to see?”

  “Yes.”

  Ember shifted to the edge of the bed, tightening her robe. When Dev set down a box secured with a red ribbon, Ember stood and headed to the end table.

  “Open this one while I get the others,” he said.

  “The others?” Ember said. “You mean there’s more than one?” Dev didn’t reply and quickly disappeared, so Ember pulled the end of the ribbon. Underneath the lid, she found delicate paper so white and fine that she could see her hand through it. Carefully, she lifted the folds away and gasped, finding the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. Lifting it out of the box, she held it up and prayed it was cut generously enough to fit her.

  The color of the dress matched the tie Dev wore, a sort of burnt orange that reminded her of maple trees in the fall. The skirt was heavier than any she’d worn before. There was a steel-boned corset with a paisley pattern meant to fit on top of the dress, with thin gold chains tied to the ribbons so a woman could attach a watch or other small charms. The overskirt was cut to show off the black netting underskirt, and there were layers of fabric pulled up in flounces to form a bustle. The dress ended in a train that also had gold chains sewn in so it could be pinned up when traveling outdoors and let down when attending a party. It all seemed too complicated. Pretty, but complicated.

  Another box Dev brought in held petticoats, stockings, and bloomers so finely made, Ember had never seen the like. Even the trim on the bloomers had adorable little ribbons interwoven with delicate lace, an extravagance unheard of in her small village. A third box contained shiny black boots with buttons, and the fourth had a lace parasol and gloves to match as well as a fitted jacket.

  She put on the bloomers, stockings, and petticoat, then sat at a mirrored desk to work on her hair. Ember had never seen a mirror so large before and when she reached her hand out to touch it, light bloomed around the border.

  When her dark tresses were tamed and drawn up in a loose chignon with a few cascading curls, she donned the dress, doing her best with the corset. Her aunt had always helped her with her corsets before, but this one was intricate, and she couldn’t even figure out how to use her magic to connect the steel boning or the ruff. Cracking open the door, she summoned Dev, asking for his help. He entered, but was frowning at a letter. Distracted, he set it down and turned his attention to her.

  “The boning is joined by gears,” he said. “It works like my cuff links. Watch.” He touched his finger to a cuff link and a tiny gear inside whirred. Then the two pieces disconnected. When he touched it a second time, they fastened together again. “They run on witchlight,” he explained. “Just the tiniest bit. But even the drop of power used to fashion them comes at a very steep price. Your corset is worth a fortune. It’s easily the most expensive piece Payne gave you.”

  Ember looked down at her dress and couldn’t imagine how something as commonplace as a corset could be so valuable. The loose contraption slipped where she held it. She yanked it higher, pressing it against her body and tugging at the dress beneath, scowling when Dev seemed amused with her predicament.

  He made as if to help her, and she deliberately took a step back and raised an eyebrow. He chuckled and held up his hands. “To fasten it, just get it in the proper position and then run your finger from the bottom of the corset, where it sits at your waist, to the top. It will tighten itself.

  “But any time it becomes uncomfortable, or if you just want it looser, you trace your finger down the front from top to bottom, slowly, until it relaxes to a comfortable degree. Draw your fingertip down the entire way and it will disengage the corset gears so you can take it off.”

  Ember frowned. “It sounds like you have some personal experience.”

  The slow smile that lifted the corners of his mouth touched his eyes too, with a devilish gleam. Still, Ember followed his instructions and heard a tiny clicking noise as the corset she held in place began to tighten.

  Ember was distracted by the ruff and her reflection in the mirror. Never in her life had she worn anything so fine. The top of the ruff stood straight up, framing her face in such a way that made her feel like a queen, and Ember wondered if it was lined with crinoline. Her aunt had a fancy petticoat made of the stuff, which she pulled out only on special occasions.

  Dev knelt at her feet and attached her train to another chain that hung from the bottom of her corset, showing her that it also had gears that almost leapt toward one another as if by magic.

  “There you are,” Dev said, one knee still on the ground. “Pretty as a picture. In fact, you’re only missing one thing.”

  Ember suddenly realized that Dev looked like a young man about to propose marriage. She coughed delicately and turned away. “My parasol?” she asked, picking it up along with her gloves.

  “I was actually thinking of this.” He stood and picked up another box. This one was round and had been placed on the plush chair since there’d been no more room on the end table. Inside the box, protected by the soft paper, was a jaunty little hat. It resembled Dev’s, but it was much smaller.

  “It’s got a batwing hatband like mine,” Dev said. “But yours also has owl feathers and a potent witch charm.”

  “A witch charm?” Ember took the hat from his hands. She pushed aside the netting and found a tiny bronze cauldron. “It’s lovely,” she said, stroking a feather.

  “Yes. But it’s a bit more than lovely.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dev put on a pair of gray gloves and a very stylish overcoat. “The cauldron can store some of your power. Enough to fuel a skyship.”

  Ember’s mouth flew open. “But how? It’s so small.”

  “Witch power doesn’t take up space. It’s not like a hairbrush or a broom. The witch charm is simply a container that can harness and hold power for you. Which reminds me…”

  Dev picked up a bronze box and turned a key to open it. Inside was a pair of short rods with a mounted plate full of gears and knobs in between. “What is this?” Ember asked.

  “It’s called a voltameter. It’s a much fancier version of your witch charm. This is the payment Payne requires in exchange for his help.”

  “What do we do with it?” she asked.

  “You will hold on to the levers here and here, and it will siphon off a portion of your witchlight.” Ember gave him a dubious look. Deverell explained, “Unlike taking your blood, which is a physical drain, powering a voltameter is a natural use of your power. You won’t feel weakened afterward and it doesn’t hurt, but you won’t be able to use any of your natural witch abilities for a while.

  “Powering a voltameter like this will give Payne the ability to run his business for the next fifty years without paying a single bronze coin to the establishment. In fact, it’s such a valuable commodity that he’s given me enough currency for the two of us to travel in style for the better part of a year as we explore the Otherworld together. You’ll be able to afford the best of everything.”

  Ember bit her lip. She was happy to explore, but a year? What would happen to her aunt in that time? She started to protest that a week would be more than sufficient, when her stomach twisted again like it had before she’d come to the Otherworld. Going home felt wrong. Then something at the window drew her attention. A cloud in the shape of a cat hovered just beyond the dome, and as she watched, the cat appeared to wink at her.

  Dev went on talking. “Of course, after this is done, you’ll have to drink your tea. It will inhibit your witchlight even further, to the point where you can move about in the Otherworld undetected. In the meanwhile, I can teach you how to u
se your power, as well as how to tamp it down when you like. We’ll even be able to wean you off the tea eventually. If you still want my help by then, that is.”

  “It’s become quite clear to me that I absolutely need your help. If only there was something I could give you in exchange,” she said, smiling as she turned away from the strange cloud outside her window.

  “There is no need,” Dev said gallantly as he inclined his head. “Thanks to your munificent generosity regarding Payne, my pockets are lined. And sampling your blood yesterday will sustain me for quite some time. Other than those two things, there’s not much a vampire needs.” He gave her his most charming smile and touched his gloved fingers to her chin, squeezing it gently. “There’s something else I should tell you.”

  She pulled away from his hands, discomfited by the condescending gesture. “Oh? What is it?” she asked as she adjusted her hat.

  “I’ve received a letter from the high witch. There’s been a slight change of plans. We aren’t going to meet with her in the capital just yet. Her schedule simply won’t permit it. Instead, we are heading to an island first. There’s an inventor of some note that I think you would enjoy meeting. But fear not. I shall keep her apprised of our whereabouts, and as soon as she’s available, I’ll introduce the two of you.”

  “Oh,” Ember said. “Will it…will it be a long wait, do you think?”

  “I can’t imagine it will take too long. My guess is we won’t be at the inventor’s island for more than a week or so. Do you not wish to see more of the Otherworld?”

  Ember did want to see more, but heading off on a journey by boat to a distant island and then back was a bit more than she’d planned on. She was about to say she’d rather stay in town and window-shop when her gut twisted painfully. Then Dev took her gloved hand, kissed it, and smiled warmly at her, and the twinge dissipated.

  “Shall we get on with it, then?” he asked. “Our skyship awaits.”

  “Skyship? You mentioned that earlier. I thought we were going to an island.”