Cornelia mopped her brow with the back of her hand. “I have to admit, I was wondering more about how your joints moved so smoothly. You have incredible range of motion.”
“The gears within me are very small.” Frolic hesitated, afraid to shatter the friendship he’d found, but needing to be honest with the tinkerer. “I’m as much magic as I am clockwork. It’s the combination of the two that makes me what I am.”
She pushed her goggles onto her hair and said, “How so?”
“I have a book that tells all about it. It took many people to construct me. My skin, hair, and eyes are mostly magical. Spelled. My heart too. I run on steam. Steam fuels all the gears that move every part of me. I draw air into my lungs, and my heart heats the vapor into steam. For my heart to remain hot, burning, takes very strong magic. It’s a combination of things I don’t really understand: fever dreams, oaths spoken during love, and elemental fire. The oaths Querry, Reg, and the others used to repair my heart when it broke were spoken between a powerful faerie and his wizard partner. Since then, I’ve understood the fey language. I’ve understood magic. Corny, I’ve never told anybody about this—”
“No worries.” She clutched his shoulder, enveloping it in her large hand. “I won’t speak a word of what you’ve said. I think I hate magic, anyway. It’s the antithesis of what I do. What I do makes sense, works every time. Magic—damn, I don’t even begin to understand how or why it works.”
For a while, they worked on the gears within the panel in awkward silence. Finally, when he could take no more, Frolic asked, “How many people died today?”
Corny flinched. “I—I’m not sure. I think half a dozen jumped overboard, and we lost as many fighting that monster. Why?”
Though he knew he shouldn’t, Frolic shared everything that had been troubling him with her. “My friends are human like you. As much as I love them, I can’t stop them from growing old and dying. I don’t want to be alone. I was alone for so long, Corny. You can’t imagine. I was alone for almost eighty years, maybe more, in a dark, cold cellar. Do you think I could be replicated? Could I, with your help, make another like myself? Someone to keep me company, to save me from solitude? If we use the book, can we, you and I, make me a companion? Will you help me?”
“I—I guess I could try.”
Frolic embraced her, burrowing his face into her fleshy neck. “Oh, thank you, Corny. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“It’s not going to be easy,” she warned him. “And there’s so much else to do with the engines and things.”
“I know,” Frolic said. “But I can’t do it on my own. If we can work, plan, in our spare time, then maybe I can at least get started. I’m not deluding myself; I know it’s probably going to take me many years. I just don’t want to be left behind again when—when—” The thought of a world without Querry and Reg in it, where he’d never see their faces, hear their voices, or feel their hands upon him again made Frolic feel like every last one of his gears jammed at the same time. He couldn’t move or breathe as he contemplated it.
“Oh, hey now.” Corny put down the calipers she’d been using and pulled Frolic against her. She stroked his hair and shushed him until he calmed down a little. “That’s years and years away, Frolic. Thinking about it now won’t do you any good. What do you say we finish this work? It’ll keep your mind off everything, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he managed to whisper as he picked up his wrench with a shaking hand. He didn’t speak anymore to Corny about his concerns, but he couldn’t banish the dark thoughts as they worked well into evening. To distract himself, Frolic asked Corny how she’d learned to work with steam engines and gears.
“Self-taught, mostly. I convinced a few tinkerers to show me a thing or two here and there, but I learned most of it just by taking things apart. I’ve been doing that since I could pry a clock casing open with a butter knife. I’d love a look inside you— Damn, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I guess you can see why I had to run away.”
“It’s all right. I can let you look at my book. It describes how I work, and hopefully you’ll get to see it while we build another clockwork. But why did you have to run away?”
“Because I didn’t want the life my parents had planned out for me: a husband, children, planning luncheons and ladies’ teas. Stuffed into a gown and looking like an upholstered couch. Dull. I wanted to see the world, use my skills, my brain. I didn’t want some man telling me what to do for the rest of my days. Freedom and adventure, that’s what I’m after.”
“You’re a little like my friend Querry, maybe just not as rash.”
“Yeah, and as I’m sure you can imagine, my marriage prospects weren’t encouraging.”
“Why?” Frolic truly didn’t understand. He thought Corny made a great companion. She was funny, kind, brilliant with machinery, and someone to depend on if things got ugly. What more could anyone want?
“Have a look, love. I’m not exactly a delicate flower. And I don’t know how to talk to people or wave a fan around to give silly signals.”
“But don’t you miss being touched?”
She blushed and looked away.
“I’ve said something wrong, haven’t I? I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s all right. It just isn’t something most people are willing to discuss. You might not want to ask anyone else that question. To answer you, though… well sure, I guess. But I’m not willing to give up my freedom either. I won’t pretend I’m simple or helpless just so a man feels valuable because he can take care of me. I can take care of myself just fine, and I won’t pretend I can’t. I suppose if I could find a man who saw me as an equal, just another person— Anyway. So your friends—do you love them? As in….”
“As in being touched? Wanting to be touched? That way? More than anything, but they say I shouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t understand why, but they say it’s dangerous.”
“You’d better listen to them, Frolic. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything, though. Who would I even tell? For what it’s worth, I think people should do what makes them happy. Touch them to your heart’s content, but be careful. The world isn’t fair. Come on, now. Let’s get these tools packed up for the night. I’m starving.”
Frolic hurried to gather their things, feeling much better after talking with his wonderful new friend, and very eager to see Querry and Reg again, to hold onto them and enjoy them as long as he could.
Chapter 10
“THIS IS the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Reg said as he paced the perimeter of their small cell. “Two master thieves, and who’s supposed to break into Starling’s desk? Me. Me, who’s never so much as put a loose coin in my pocket.”
“You’ll be fine, Reg.” Querry caught his hand and rubbed his thumb across Reg’s knuckles. “Besides, Frolic and I can’t do anything against Starling’s interests. You saw what happened to me the last time I tried. Just discussing this plan is making me a bit nauseous.”
Reg broke away from Querry and shot him an exasperated look. “Can’t you just remember what the contract said? What about you, Frolic? Your memory’s almost photographic.”
“When it comes to clockwork and gears,” Frolic said. “I barely understood most of those words when I read them, though. I understand the basic concept, but—no. I can’t tell you exactly what it said. Sorry, Reg.”
“If you two ever find yourselves in this situation again, for heaven’s sake ask for a copy of the contract for yourselves. No, better yet, don’t ever get yourselves into a situation like this again. Honestly. I can’t believe I’m actually considering this. What will he do if he catches me?”
“No worries, Reggie. I’ll distract Starling, and Frolic will keep Tom occupied. All you’ll have to do is slip inside, grab it, and slip out. Easy as pie. It shouldn’t take more than a minute or two. Although if you want to poke around for a few bottles of that lovely wine he keeps, I’ll be sure to buy you a few extra minutes.” Querry shot
Reg a suggestive smile and wink, hoping it might amuse and arouse him as it usually did. Clearly, Querry’d made a mistake.
“Blast it, Querry! This is no joke. We’re in obvious trouble here, and you have to take it seriously. For once in your life, you have to see we’re not just playing some game. Won’t you and Frolic distracting Starling and Tom count as working against him? Have you thought about that?”
“A little,” Querry said. “I think we’ll be fine. After all, nothing happened when we questioned him before. Nothing happened until I actually tried to steal from him. I really think we can get one over on the self-righteous bastard. And he deserves it. He thinks he’s so bloody clever.” The idea made Querry want to laugh out loud; he loved putting pompous asses in their places.
“Is that what this is about? Proving you’re smarter than he is?”
“A little,” Querry admitted cautiously. Reg’s cheeks started to color, and his full lips pursed and turned down. “You were the one who said you wanted to see that contract.”
“Yes, I want to find a way to get you and Frolic out of it. If I do, I want you to promise me we’ll all leave Lord Starling’s employ at the very next port. We’re in danger as long as we continue to help that man. And then, I want to have a long and serious talk about our future. We just can’t keep this up forever.”
“I know,” Querry said, putting his arguments aside for a more appropriate time. He had some difficulty imagining a time when he wouldn’t be able to rob the privileged. Their complacency and false sense of security left them wide open, and Querry doubted they’d ever be any different.
“Wait,” Frolic said, standing up from the bunk. “I don’t want to leave yet. I don’t care if we quit working for Lord Starling, but I want to stay on the ship. I’m working on something, and I need Corny’s help.”
“What?” Both Querry and Reg asked at once.
Frolic wouldn’t look them in the eye. Querry couldn’t ever remember Frolic keeping secrets, as he seemed to do now. If anything, he always erred on the side of bearing too much of his soul, even to his partners. Reg’s brows arched up as he looked hard at Frolic’s downturned face.
“It isn’t anything important,” he said in a thin whisper. “Just something I’m thinking of making. Something I want for myself.”
Frolic looked so decimated, so broken for some reason Querry couldn’t fathom, that he squeezed Frolic around the shoulders and kissed him on top of his head. At least Frolic returned Querry’s smile when he finally faced him, but Querry almost felt like looking up into his face made Frolic sad. Since finding Frolic in the doll maker’s cellar, all Querry had wanted was to shield him from the cruelty of the world and those who might want to take advantage of him. In some significant way, he’d failed.
“We can talk about all this later,” Querry said. “We should do this as soon as we can.”
Reg shook his head with resignation and flipped open the lid of the trunk at the foot of his bunk. He sorted through the few belongings he’d brought on their journey, including the weapons and armor Frolic had made, and the faerie book and writing set Frolic had given him. Finally, he found a few pieces of his precious paper and a quill and hid them in his trouser pockets.
“What are you planning to do with those?” Querry asked.
“I’m planning to copy down that contract, clearly. If Starling simply finds it missing, he won’t have a hard time figuring out who took it, will he?”
“I’m impressed,” Querry said. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”
With a sardonic smile, Reg said, “Of course you didn’t, Querry. You didn’t think of anything beyond making Starling look a fool.”
Querry cringed inwardly as he realized Reg had the measure of him—of course he did. He knew Querry better than Querry knew himself sometimes. Reg was right too. Querry’d put humiliating Starling above all else—including the safety of the people he loved and swore to protect. Still, given what the three of them had accomplished in the past, he didn’t think acquiring a copy of the contract would be difficult. For God’s sake, they’d just defeated a ghastly leviathan, a creature straight out of a horrific story. How hard could it be to get a hold of a piece of paper?
“Don’t forget what I said about the wine,” he added in a last attempt to alleviate the tension he felt so unnecessary. “We’ll use it to celebrate our success.”
“I’m going to assist with the repairs to the riggings,” Reg said, shaking his head.
“I’ll come with you,” Frolic offered. “I’m sure I can do something useful.”
Querry followed them up to the deck, feeling queasy again as the planks seemed to undulate beneath his boots. The bloody seasickness was getting damned annoying, especially when he needed his wits sharp. Instead of concentrating on the roiling of his guts and the spinning of his head, he needed to concoct a compelling reason for Starling to leave his cabin without Tom. It had to be more than a desire for conversation; they could talk easily within the baron’s chamber. He wandered over near the port side rail, just in case he couldn’t hold his breakfast. Reg and Frolic met a group of sailors. Querry grinned when Reg followed the Thalaceans and stripped off his shirt. He looked so pale compared to them, and Querry hoped he wouldn’t burn too badly, but he liked to see Reg break free of some of the uptight propriety imposed by his adoptive parents. Before abandoning that life, Reg, like any proper gentleman, refused to be seen without his coat, vest, cravat, hat, and gloves. Querry certainly liked watching Reg unfurl the lengths of heavy rope, his lithe muscles contracting and pulling against each other as he worked.
One of the sailors handed Frolic a gas-powered nail gun attached to a fuel tank, and he wandered away from the rest of the group, working to mend some of the broken rails closer to the stern. His fresh powder-blue shirt stayed tucked into his gray houndstooth trousers. Querry remembered how, when he’d first met Frolic, he’d had to impart to him the importance of not disrobing whenever he wished. He’d been delighted with Frolic’s natural lack of shame or modesty over his beautiful form. Now, though, Frolic seemed uncomfortable when anyone looked at him at all. He was afraid they knew he was different, and Querry knew Frolic felt like an outcast. Querry hadn’t noticed the change in his Frolic; it had obviously been gradual, and Frolic didn’t seem self-conscious around Reggie and Querry. The idea Frolic might feel ashamed of his perfect body tore at Querry’s heart.
Querry leaned his back on the railing, watching them work, watching the mercenaries playing a card game on an overturned barrel, tossing his thoughts about, trying to make sense of them, and trying to formulate some feasible way of occupying Starling. Every time he came up short, he grew more and more frustrated. The increasing heat and his increasing boredom plunged Querry into a fouler and fouler mood. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face and down his spine, and his stomach lurched every time a strong wave crashed against the vessel’s hull. Minutes ticked by, stretching into half an hour, and Querry looked for something to occupy himself but found nothing.
Close to an hour wore on. Querry paced near the helm. How the bloody hell would he lure Starling away from Tom and his cabin? What could he say that wouldn’t sound obvious? What could he do? It had seemed so simple when he’d explained it to Reg and Frolic. Now and then, the other two men paused in their labor to cast Querry wondering glances. Querry swore under his breath and pushed a clump of damp, rotting net back and forth with the armored toe of his boot.
A door slammed, and Querry turned toward the sound. Starling, in a pair of black, pinstriped trousers, matching waistcoat, and crisp, white shirt strode across the deck with Tom following closely behind. Querry cast around for some way to draw the baron’s attention, and saw only one possibility. Without considering the consequences of his actions for too long, afraid to lose his opportunity, Querry hurried over to the mercenaries and shoved Jack Owens hard in the shoulder.
“What did you say to me?” Querry demanded.
“Piss off,” Owens said without
looking up from the cards he held, his teeth around the stump of a cigar.
“If you have something to say to me, say it to my face, if you’re not a coward.” Querry continued to taunt, planting his hands on his hips, widening his stance, and lifting his chin defiantly. He couldn’t help enjoying himself just a bit. “Go on. Just what were you mumbling when I walked by?”
“I was talking to me mates. Now bugger off, lad.”
“Make me.”
To Querry’s surprise, Owens never even looked up from his game. He simply dismissed Querry. Glancing over his shoulder, Querry saw Starling, who’d paused to observe, begin making his way to the hatch again. Querry had to act. He raised his arm and struck Jack Owens hard with the back of his hand. The larger man flew from the small pile of wood he sat upon and sprawled on his back on the deck, his cigar still clenched between his lips, though the smack of his body against the planks knocked the breath from his chest audibly. Still, he arched his back and got to his feet with a single smooth motion, spitting his smoke on the deck.
“You’re fucking dead!” Owens lunged for Querry, and though Querry dodged, Owens caught him around the waist and tackled him to the deck, landing hard across Querry’s chest.
Querry gasped for air and flicked his head just in time to avoid the blow aimed at his jaw. He tried to retaliate, but Owens grabbed his wrists and squeezed his bones until they felt like they cracked. “Not so clever now, are ya, pretty boy?”
“Bastard.” Querry jerked his thigh up with all the force he could muster, driving into the other man’s groin.
Owens’s face reddened almost to purple, and he collapsed on the deck beside Querry. Querry wasted no time getting to his feet, but neither did the big mercenary. They faced off again as a crowd gathered around them. Querry glanced to his left to find Frolic’s gaze. During their nocturnal excursions, the two of them had learned to communicate without speech, almost without gesture, conveying intent just by looking in one another’s eyes. Yet again, Querry knew in a second Frolic understood what he planned. The clockwork boy nodded almost imperceptibly. The momentary distraction cost Querry, though. As soon as he turned his head, Owens hit him in the eye with a roundhouse, and Querry’s feet flew off the deck before he landed hard on his ass.
A Grimoire for the Baron Page 12
