A Grimoire for the Baron

by Eon de Beaumont

  Querry, never one to give up easily, recalled the spool of wire Corny and Owens used to drag their cargo. He looked over at the tinkerer and asked, “Could we fashion some sort of a grapple strong enough to reach the other side and hold to the stone?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, we could. If I had any of my equipment or any materials to work with. Maybe… maybe there is a way, though.”

  “Out with it, girl,” Starling said.

  Corny turned, walked back to her crate, knelt down, and caressed the wooden edge with reverence. “This is the finest thing I ever made,” she said softly. “But I’d hoped for more time to work on them.”

  Frolic pushed past Querry to stand over her, his hands on his hips. “Corny, no.”

  “Ah, Frolic….” She flipped the lid open, and all of them gathered around to see what the case held.

  Inside, cradled by layers of wool felt, was a set of gold and brass wings, folded tightly together. The sun glinted off the intricately carved feathers. Even without examining them more closely, Querry saw how small and elaborate the gears at their joints were. He’d never seen anything like them; not even the creatures Frolic constructed could compare. Querry didn’t even think his old mentor, Dink, could have made them. Well, maybe Dink, he decided.

  Frolic covered his mouth with both hands and took a step back. Corny looked up at him, and their gazes locked. No one else dared even shuffle his feet.

  “They’re for you,” Corny said with a crack in her voice and an obvious stammer. “You… you were always talking about those angels, and… and you seemed so fascinated with birds and flying… I’m sorry I kept them secret. I wanted them to be a surprise.”

  The group parted to allow Frolic to approach his friend. He reached down, took her hands, and pulled her up into a powerful embrace. She returned the hug, lifting Frolic off his feet. “You’re my best mate,” she said. “Best I ever had.”

  “Me too,” Frolic said, his voice trembling with emotion. Querry knew if he’d been able, he’d be crying right along with Corny.

  “This is all very moving,” Starling said, not unkindly. “But how will it help all of us cross the ravine? Frolic can’t exactly carry us over.”

  “No,” Corny said, bouncing on the balls of her feet and grinning. “But he can carry the spool of steel cord across and secure it. The rest of us can loop a piece of metal over top and slide right down.”

  Reg came forward and stood between Corny and Frolic, his arms spread protectively. “Corny, I don’t mean any disrespect, but you said yourself you wished you had more time. The last time you said that, our airship crashed and almost killed us all. These are marvelous, amazing even, but they haven’t been tested. For all you know, they won’t work, and Frolic will plummet to the bottom of that abyss. This course of action is just too rash.”

  “We don’t seem to have much choice,” Starling said.

  Reg whirled around and stabbed his finger at the baron’s face. “You do it, then!”

  “I’ll do it,” Querry offered. He remembered the sensation of swinging between the rooftops of Halcyon from his grapple; he remembered the view of the city from Dink’s airship, how free he’d felt above the greed, cruelty, and desperation. To actually fly…. He couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than to have wings of his own to spread, to truly fly.

  “Afraid not, mate,” Corny said. “They’re for Frolic. They’ll only work on him. And if you’re worried, we can test them out beforehand. I don’t want anything happening to Frolic. But I’m telling you, they’ll work. They’re based largely on the concepts I learned from Frolic’s creator, from the book.”

  She lifted them from their crate like a holy relic and carefully unfolded them. They were massive: probably a dozen feet or more from tip to tip. “Frolic, come try them on.”

  Without a word, he stepped forward and held his arms outstretched while Corny removed his waistcoat. She fastened a series of leather buckles over his chest. Then she produced two clockwork gauntlets, sliding them onto his arms. The gauntlets trailed wires and pistons that attached behind his shoulders, connecting them to the magnificent wings with a sequence of complex gears. A series of dials and levers lined the palms of the gauntlets. Frolic’s fingers went to the controls almost out of instinct.

  “They’re so light,” Frolic said. “Tell me how they work.”

  “Everything’s hollow,” Corny told him. “And they work on some of the same principles as my little bird. As you. See here”—she pointed to a rounded, roughly triangular glass vial affixed to the leather over Frolic’s heart—“this collects the moisture from the air, just like you do when you breathe in. Only the wings use a sort of series of reverse fans to draw the air into these tubes.” She ran her finger along the piping artfully running into the skeleton, joints, and feathers.

  “I’ve been experimenting with ways to amplify the heat of the jungle and the heat produced by your heart. This little gadget absorbs the sun and heat of the forest and stores it within. It’s lined with mirrors to intensify the effect. You’re always saying how you don’t want anything you make relying on fuel. Anyway, the steam will force hot air into the channels within the ‘bones’. It should give you the extra lift to get you in the air and keep you up. It will insure that you and the wings stay light enough to remain aloft. Here. Let me show you how to operate them.”

  “I think I can figure it out.” Frolic had always possessed an innate understanding of clockwork and machinery. After fiddling with the knobs and dials for only a few minutes, he unfurled the wings to their complete, glorious span. Then he flapped them in front of him, and they lifted him off the ground and carried him back several feet. He continued to experiment, testing the amazing range of motion the fully articulated wings provided. No one standing even ten feet from him would have any clue they weren’t completely organic, they moved so smoothly.

  It took only half an hour or so before Frolic took complete control of the wings and moved as though he’d been born with them. He flapped them three times, rose a dozen feet into the air, glided over, and touched down lightly on top of a rock high above the others. Everyone cheered, and Corny swiped moisture from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  Querry had never had any time for religion, but as he looked up at his perfect beauty with his sparkling, silver curls and the bright sun glinting off his outstretched wings, he felt uncharacteristically choked up. Frolic was just so beautiful in every way, just… perfection. He truly looked like an angel who’d just descended from heaven, not that Querry would ever utter such a silly statement out loud. He might whisper it to Frolic, though, later, when they were alone. Frolic would like hearing it.

  Reg stepped up beside Querry and braided their fingers together. Everyone else focused their attention on Frolic, so they didn’t notice. “He’s amazing,” Reg whispered, shading his eyes with his other hand. “Almost supernatural. Sometimes I can’t even believe he’s real, let alone that he’s ours.”

  “Yeah,” Querry said in a soft sigh.

  “Are you sure he’ll be all right?”

  Querry nodded, a small part of him envious, still wishing he’d be the one to soar across the ravine. “Cornelia’s a true genius. I had no idea. And Frolic’s taken to those wings like he’s never been without them.”

  “Our Prince of Angels,” Reg said, a little bitterly, probably recalling the destruction of the clock tower, the angels, and the many ill effects the whole mess had left on Frolic. Both of them felt partially responsible for what had happened and how he’d changed as a result of their decisions. They didn’t discuss it often, but Querry knew well both of them dredged it up from time to time. He could tell by the wistful way Reg sometimes looked at Frolic.

  Querry squeezed his hand as Frolic glided over their heads and landed near the edge of the ravine.

  “I think I’m ready to go,” Frolic announced, smiling with a trace of the innocence and wonder he’d once expressed so freely and often.

  Reg let
go of Querry’s hand and turned to Corny. “That steel wire won’t make him too heavy, will it?”

  She shook her head, looking confident, almost smug. “I didn’t cut corners, mate. Those wings could lift a horse.”

  “Oh, Corny!” Frolic squealed with delight. “Could we make a winged horse? Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

  She chuckled. “Talk to me when we get back to the real world, where there are tools, and furnaces, and proper workshops.”

  “I will,” Frolic said as she handed him the heavy spool of rope. He tucked it under one elbow as if it weighted nothing and put his delicate fingers on the steering mechanisms.

  “Wait,” Jack Owens said. “We have to anchor it to something sturdy on our end. I don’t fancy the idea of it coming loose when I’m hanging over the middle of that forsaken pit. Let’s wedge it under one of these big rocks.”

  He motioned to his men. “Help me shift this.”

  Together with Corny, Reg, and Querry, the three mercenaries managed to lift the massive boulder. Frolic placed a good few feet of the steel cord beneath it before they set it back down.

  “Will it hold?” Reg asked.

  Owens slapped Reg on the back. “If it don’t, lad, you won’t be worried over it for long.”

  “How very reassuring,” Reg replied.

  “Step aside,” Starling said. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t come loose.” Kneeling, he held his palms a few inches above the wire. Flames, as white-hot as those from Corny’s welding torch, shot from his hands with a loud whoosh. Beneath the magical fire, the rock melted and bubbled, melding stone and steel into the ground. “Give it a few minutes to solidify before you set off.”

  Frolic nodded and went to wait at the edge of the chasm, his wings unfurled and practically trembling with anticipation. Querry couldn’t blame him at all.

  As the rest of them waited, Jean-Andre approached Cornelia, scooped up her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “An absolutely ingenious creation, my lady. I would be honored if you’d tell me more about how they were made.”

  Corny blushed but didn’t pull away. In a heartbeat, Jack Owens stood beside her, his muscles tense and bulging like an attack dog straining against his chain.

  “I… er, I don’t know. Trade secrets, and all. You understand. Besides, they’ll only ever work on Frolic, so there’s no need to make more. They need the heat from his heart to function properly.”

  “I’m merely interested in the theory,” Jean-Andre continued, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. “And perhaps some conversation with such a brilliant young woman.”

  “The lady said no,” Owens growled through clenched teeth. He stepped forward until he stood chest to chest with Jean-Andre.

  The Belvaisian merely offered the much larger man a lazy smile, fluttered his eyelashes, and dropped Corny’s hand. He shrugged, as if none of it mattered. “I am never one to argue with a lady’s prerogative, monsieur.”

  Querry felt suddenly nervous and wondered what Frolic had done with his book. Then he saw the leather satchel draped across Frolic’s shoulder, his prized tome next to his hip, as always.

  “One more thing,” Tom Teezle said. He wriggled his long, slender fingers beneath the cuff of his shirtsleeve and pulled out a length of shimmering, silver and gold brocade ribbon. He tied it to the end of one of Frolic’s wings, where it fluttered in the slight breeze. Then he kissed Frolic lightly on the lips. “For luck.”

  All of them ran to the edge of the gorge as Frolic took off. Querry’s heartbeat shook his entire body, and Reg clutched Querry’s arm so hard it would surely bruise as they watched Frolic fumble and lose a few feet of altitude before flapping his wings and catching a current of air.

  “READY?” FROLIC said softly to Whisper as he pushed off the edge of the cliff with his feet and beat down with his wings. The little creature made a pleasant sound somewhere between a cat’s meow and a dove’s coo as it followed him. Frolic dropped a few feet before he managed to clear the rocks and extend his wings fully. The powerful propellers let him glide along with almost no effort, while the hot air kept him afloat as if he weighed nothing.

  Frolic had never experienced such exuberant bliss as he did riding the air currents, listening to the voice of the wind, and angling his body as he sailed along a mile or more above the forest floor. His happiness built inside until it burst forth in a high-pitched laugh. He’d never even imagined such sensations as he enjoyed as the breeze rushed over him, caressing his skin and making his curls bounce and flap around his face. He had never felt so free, so unencumbered by the heavy, ugly things of the human world. He even managed to forget about everything that had plagued him since the events in Halcyon. Nothing mattered to him but the warmth of the sun on his back, the contrasting coolness of the breeze, the way he began to sense the movement of the air around him, and the feeling that he could just keep going, go anywhere, with absolutely no rules or restrictions. He felt as warm, light, and buoyant as the vapors filling his wings as he glided along, with Whisper weaving through the sky beside him playfully, sometimes dipping and flying in circles around Frolic.

  Too soon, Frolic reached the other side of the ravine. He sailed over the tops of the trees until he found one almost as wide as a barn. Then, with Whisper gliding along beside him, he circled the trunk six times, wrapping the wire around it and pulling so tightly the line embedded in the bark. He dropped the spool and flew back through the trees, testing his wings in close quarters and quickly learning how to angle and fold them to avoid branches and vines. Whisper played with him, weaving through the woods, hiding, and springing out when Frolic soared past him. Then he flew ahead, hovered in the air until Frolic almost reached him, and darted away again.

  At the edge of the canyon, Frolic dove, pressed his wings almost parallel to his body, and dropped several dozen feet before spreading them out and catching a current of wind. He could go much faster without the spool, and without the worry of staying in a straight line so he wouldn’t tangle the rope. The wind rushed loudly past his ears as he descended almost to the river. He smelled the water as he glided above it, watching his bird-like shadow on the rippling, greenish surface beneath him. He traversed a mile or more in only a few minutes before turning sharply and beating his wings to climb back to the edge of the cliff. Just for fun, he twisted his belly to the sky and glided along on his back, with Whisper doing his best imitation. Together, they attempted a few more flips and flashy maneuvers.

  It all came so naturally to Frolic. He didn’t even have to think about the controls; the gauntlets, and the wings, felt no different from any other part of his body, although he’d already had a few ideas to improve the steering mechanisms. He wondered if maybe his creator had planned this for him all along. Maybe he’d given him the knowledge, the instinct, and just hadn’t gotten around to constructing the wings. Frolic felt like he was meant to have them, and he decided, when he built himself a companion, he’d fashion another set just like them. He could only imagine how much fun flying would be with a friend along.

  Though he could have happily spent the rest of the day in the air, Frolic knew he had to get back to the others. Everyone ran toward him as soon as he touched down. Whisper perched on his shoulder and twisted his head to the side, as if perplexed by the humans. Querry reached Frolic first and caught his hands. “Beauty! How was it? What was it like?”

  “More amazing than I can even express.”

  “I was worried,” Reg said, stroking Frolic’s hair, “but I think maybe you should fly more often. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. I want to see more of it.”

  “Oh, Reggie, it was like a beautiful dream.”

  “Controls worked all right, then?” Corny asked. “Not too touchy, are they?”

  Frolic shook his head. “I didn’t even have to think about them. The wings felt like part of my body. Thank you for doing this for me, Corny. You don’t know how much it means.”

  “I wanted to,” she said. “But take care
of them. I don’t ever plan on making another set.”

  “But maybe one more set.” Frolic caught her gaze and tried to communicate his meaning through his expression.

  She nodded slowly, understanding. “Maybe one.”

  “Thank you. It’s safe for all of you to cross now. I made sure of it. I’ll meet you on the other side.” Frolic hurried away, as much to escape Querry and Reg’s confused frowns as to get back into the air. He’d tell them his intentions, as they’d promised each other, but later.

  Chapter 25

  QUERRY MADE sliding across the wire look easy, as did Starling, Jean-Andre, Istvan, Attila, and even Corny. Tom Teezle found his own way across the gorge, and soon Reg stood alone with Jack Owens. Looking down into the chasm made Reg feel like he’d be sick, and he jammed his hands in his trouser pockets so Owens wouldn’t see how hard they shook. He had no strength in them; under no circumstances could he grip the tiny, metal bar, let alone support his weight across the gulley. His muscles felt no sturdier than watery gruel, but he didn’t want the mercenary to see his fear, his weakness. He felt so ashamed; all the others had crossed the ravine without a problem.

  Reg expected Owens to mock or insult him, but when he faced Reg, his dark, lined face displayed compassion and understanding. “Listen, lad. You faced those monsters back there like a warrior. You never even flinched. You can do this too.”

  “I can’t.” Reg’s legs trembled; he felt like he’d collapse. He’d never make it.

  “You just gonna leave your mates behind, then? Let them go on without you? You feel all right about that?”

  “No, but—”

  Owens pressed the metal bar into Reg’s hands. “Now, just hold on tight, tuck your legs up next to your belly, and close your eyes. It’ll all be over in a minute.”

  Before Reg could protest, Jack gave him a hard shove between the shoulder blades. The ground fell away beneath his feet, and he pulled his knees up as he’d been instructed. He plummeted forward, air whipping past him. He tried to ignore everything but his grip on the iron bar. He just had to hold on a little bit longer. Nothing else mattered but keeping his grip on that piece of metal. Then he made the mistake of opening his eyes for a split second.