The Tinkerer's Daughter

by Jamie Sedgwick

  General Corsan waved me back, and I happily complied. I paused on the far side of the road and turned to watch. Cinder whined at my feet as the air filled with the sound of sword blades being drawn from their sheaths. Cold, silvery steel glinted in the sunlight.

  I glanced at the prince and saw him -still on horseback-calculating the situation. He was surrounded by at least three hundred men, and had less than a dozen guards. He wasn’t beaten yet, though.

  “Treason!” he shouted. “Sergeant, arrest this man for treason!”

  It didn’t take half a second to determine where the sergeant’s loyalties lay. He turned his back on the prince. “Men, you heard the general! Get this machine back on the road!”

  A handful of soldiers sheathed their swords and started pulling my plane back up to the wagon trail. The prince’s hand strayed towards the hilt of his sword, but then he thought better of it. He heeled his horse up next to the general and stooped down.

  “The king will hear of this!” he hissed. Then he sat back upright and shouted it out so that everyone could hear. “THE KING WILL HEAR OF THIS TREASON!” He heeled his horse and went tearing up the hillside towards the castle, with his guards running along behind.

  I glanced nervously at the general, and he gave me a reassuring smile. “He’s hard to get to know.”

  I laughed a little. “I guess so.”

  “Don’t worry about the prince. He’ll get drunk tonight, by tomorrow he won’t remember a thing. By the time you’re back he’ll be right as rain.”

  I raised my eyebrows, hardly believing it was true. Even if it was, General Corsan had still taken a considerable risk. “Thank you,” I said. I climbed into the seat and Cinder jumped onto my lap.

  “No thanks are necessary. I want this war over as badly as you.” He paused for a moment, as if trying to decide what he should say next. I gave him a quizzical look. “Before you go, I’d like to ask one thing. It will take you a bit out of your way, but it will buy us time. It may even save lives.”

  I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about, but I certainly couldn’t refuse his request. “All right. What do you want me to do?”

  He gestured to one of the soldiers, and the man stepped forward carrying a small crate. He set it on the plane next to me and I peered inside. It was full of balls… Tinker’s explosive charges. These were the larger ones, about the size of a man’s fist.

  “These are cannon charges. Do you know what these do?” he said. I nodded, my eyes wide. After my traumatic childhood experience, I was nervous just being near those things. “Good. This is what I want you to do: Fly back towards Riverfork and find the Kanters. Look for supply wagons and war machines. If you see any, drop a few of these on them. That should slow them down.”

  I nodded solemnly. “What if I don’t see anything like that?”

  “Then drop ‘em on the Kanters.” I accepted the box, setting it on my lap. Cinder curled up at my feet with a distasteful grunt. She wasn’t at all happy about the invasion of her space.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get your men ready to move.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “They’ll be ready.”

  “Thanks again for all that you’ve done.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Just get back here safely.”

  “I will.”

  “Good, because we’re not done with you yet.”

  I left with that cryptic remark ringing in my ears.

  Chapter 30

  I must have been at three thousand feet before I felt like I could breathe again. The air was cold, as it always is at that altitude, but it was welcome after that suffocating tension. I wedged the box down on the floor between my legs and let Cinder jump onto my lap. She licked my neck and my chin, and then nuzzled into my collar and fell asleep.

  I had worries. I had put myself to the hazard by promising the general something that I had no way to accomplish. If I failed, I could not only end up imprisoned or dead, but thousands of innocent lives would be lost. And I was afraid that even if I was successful at recruiting the cooperation of the Tal’mar, something could still go wrong.

  The prince, for instance. He seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. The general didn’t seem to have much control over him, and the prince appeared eager to cause trouble. And then there were the Kanters. They were the wild card. I could only guess as to what their ultimate objective might be. Were they trying to eradicate humans entirely? If they succeeded, would they then pursue the same goal with the Tal’mar?

  But even with all these worries hanging over me, there was one thing that was even more prominent in my thoughts: my father. The general’s praise still rang in my ears, and brought a smile to my face. I was jealous because I could never know my father the way the general had, but I was giddy over the things I was learning about him. My father had been all things to all men, it seemed. He was a man’s man on the battlefield, a natural born leader. And he was a silver-tongued poet as well, and not only in the ways of politics.

  It made sense of course, though I had never thought of it before. My father had managed to secure the interests of a Tal’mar woman. How many humans could claim that? I was a living testament to his charm. The very thought made me laugh.

  Until that day I had always believed my father had been recalled as a soldier. It seemed logical enough, him being so large and strong, but now I knew he’d gone back as an ambassador. He’d gone back to ensure the success of this treaty. I was certain that he could have refused to do this, but he hadn’t. The reason for that now struck me like a boot to the forehead. He’d been trying to create a world that was safe for me. Not by going to war, but by delivering treaties. By using his natural leadership qualities, he had been trying to bring our people together. And he died for it. He died so that the Kanters could keep the war going.

  And suddenly I was angry.

  My mind filled with thoughts that were new and strange to me. Thoughts of hatred and revenge. I glanced at the crate of explosives and realized that I might actually enjoy dropping a few of those on the Kanters. I had never felt that way before, and I hardly knew what to think of myself. Did it make me a bad person, wanting to avenge my father’s death?

  I knew that some people killed as a matter of routine. Soldiers spent every waking moment perfecting that ability. If they could march into battle on a simple command, couldn’t I do the same in the name of my father?

  Later, I realized that I was already doing the best thing I could. I was using my own unique gifts and station in life to fight for what I believed. I wasn’t on a battlefield with a sword and shield; I was delivering a treaty that could bring the humans and Tal’mar together in the fight against a common enemy.

  I also realized that I had somehow just filled my father’s shoes, that I had followed in his footsteps and taken up his cause. Fortunately, the thought didn’t occur to me at the time. If it had, I probably would have been too terrified to do anything but turn around and go home.

  The Kanters had been marching steadily for the entire day, and it was late afternoon when I found them. They were fifty miles north of Riverfork. They had burned or crushed everything in their path, and left the land dead and blackened in their wake. I didn’t see as many refugees in their path, and I assumed that most of those people had already made it to Anora. The Kanters were still less than halfway there.

  I flew over them, scanning their ranks. It wasn’t long until I found what I was looking for. The Kanters were moving like a well-organized army. They had scouts out front, followed by archers on foot and then a large infantry. Behind this, I saw the war machines General Corsan had warned me about.

  Not all that I’d read about the Kanters was exaggeration. The largest of them were giants. I estimated their height to be about fifteen feet. A dozen of these creatures were pulling cannons and catapults with thick, braided ropes. Further back, I saw what could only have been the supply wagons. These would have been carrying the materials that the army need
ed to keep moving: clothing, building materials, weapons, and especially food. Then I saw the two large wagons filled with bodies. Human bodies. This, I realized with a sick feeling, must have been their food.

  My stomach churned. I’d long since known that the Kanters practiced cannibalism, but it was one thing to read about it, and another to see it. Was it possible that they had actually lifted the bodies of their victims from the battlefield so that they could later eat them? I knew it to be true, and it made me want to vomit. I clenched my teeth and silently promised myself that the Kanters wouldn’t touch any of those bodies.

  I swept around behind them and came up from the rear. I waited until I saw the bodies, and then I started bombing. The Kanters must have thought the wrath of God was raining down on their heads. I took out the wagons first, making sure to cripple their movement and destroy their food supplies. I didn’t like the idea of blowing up those bodies, but it was sure better than letting the Kanters eat them. A chill crept up my spine as I thought of it.

  I swept back around and started bombing the war machines next. The Kanters had no choice but to break and run as I buzzed overhead, throwing those charges with increasing accuracy. The few who had the courage to stay with the cannons were doomed. They couldn’t aim the weapons high enough to shoot at me, and even if they could it would have been impossible to train them on my fast moving plane.

  Within minutes the Kanter army fell into disarray. Their cannons and catapults were lying in ruins, and their wagons were overturned and burning. I could have turned back then, but I chose not to. I had a few charges left. So I circled overhead, throwing them down at random, sending those monsters scurrying like insects across the ground. I don’t know if I actually hit any of them, but it was worth it to see them fleeing in terror.

  In some small way, I had my revenge. When I was done, I threw the crate down and turned back to the north. The sun had already set, and I still had hours to fly

  Chapter 31

  It was well past midnight when I flew past Relian Keep and crossed the Crimson Strait. It took all of ten minutes to cross the Strait, which appeared as no more than a wide river from my vantage. I passed over the churning black waters and a narrow strip of sandy beach, which immediately gave way to thick, impenetrable forest. The treetops formed a sort of green, bubbly landscape beneath me, rising and falling with the gentle roll of the hills. Flying over this strange expanse, I realized that I could see the curve of the earth at the horizon.

  It was common knowledge that the world was round in those days, but according to Analyn, nothing existed beyond the known lands of Astatia and the Isle of Tal’mar. All the rest of the world was ocean. The best seafarers had set out to prove this wrong, and had either returned starved or more likely never returned at all. Of course, no one had ever had a plane before. No one had ever been able to go so far, or to see so much from a single vantage. Perhaps someday I could test my own luck…

  I could see why Prince Sheldon had taken such an interest in my plane. Unlike the steamwagon, which was generally considered noisy and impractical, the plane was different. It had obvious potential for military applications. I doubted however that the prince perceived the other possibilities. I knew the plane could bring great changes to civilization. It could be a tool for explorers and adventurers, and a manner of trade and shipping as well. I could already see wealthy kings and merchants building fleets of planes that were larger and faster than mine.

  Oddly, none of this had occurred to me while Tinker and I were building the thing. It was simply a distraction. I had never really seen any practical application for the machine until later, when I needed to carry Analyn’s message to the general. I suspected that Tinker hadn’t given much thought to this potential either.

  When he’d designed the plane, I think he just wanted to prove that it could work. He wanted to test his theory about building a machine that could fly. In the process, he’d created a machine that was going to change our entire world. I wondered if he understood that yet.

  As I flew, I tried reaching out to the trees to speak to them. I thought that perhaps they could help me. I was hoping at least to learn if I was heading in the right direction. In response, I heard only silence. Was it possible that the trees here didn’t speak? I doubted that. More likely they were not so friendly as the trees in my valley. To these trees, I was an outsider, a potential enemy. Here, even the trees mistrusted me. I wondered if they would betray my approach? That was a chilling thought.

  Finally, just before dawn, I saw the shimmering glow of my destination. Silverspire is the human name for the city, a rough translation of its Tal’mar name, Resha Lazenta, which means The City of the Silver Spires. An apt name I realized, as I saw the gleaming towers of the palace reaching into the clouds. Likewise, many of the buildings were tall and cylindrical in shape, and they all had that silvery luminescent surface.

  The sight made me wonder if the Tal’mar actually had metalsmiths among them. I had been told that they hated metal, and yet those shining towers looked like they must have been made from silver, or at least polished steel.

  I eventually learned that the color of the spires came from a unique type of glass. The Tal’mar had a technique of blending certain sands to create a glass that was both beautiful and resilient. This blend could be poured while it was hot, and was often used to coat stone or wood. After cooling, the glass became hard as stone, and its surface took on a reflective sheen.

  The homes were different. While mostly silver or white in color, they were much closer in physical appearance to the buildings I’d seen in Riverfork. They stood three or four stories in height at most, and they all had the same steep roofs. Many of the buildings were connected by bridges because, as I later learned, the Tal’mar dread setting foot on soil. They believe it lowers them to the status of humans, whom many of them feel are little more than hairless apes.

  I didn’t know any of this at the time, of course. All I knew was that I had a message to deliver to the Tal’mar queen, a woman named Tarsa Salamenta. I was to allow no one to see the treaty except the queen herself. In order to make this happen, the general had given me the signed documents of a Royal Ambassador. I had no idea how the Tal’mar would receive me, but I was hopeful. After all, my father had apparently had great relations with them. Perhaps they would recognize me as his kin, just as General Corsan had.

  I set the plane down on the road outside the city walls, and found guards already waiting for me. Sure enough, the trees had warned them I was coming. I should have known, since the trees at home had so faithfully done the same for me. The Tal’mar had probably known I was coming from the second I crossed the Crimson Strait.

  I sensed rather than saw the eyes watching me in the branches overhead. I knew that there were at least a dozen archers ready to take me out in the blink of an eye. Cinder knew it too. She jumped onto my lap and started barking at the trees. A Tal’mar man stepped forward. Judging by his manner and uniform, he appeared to be some sort of peacekeeper or city official. He clearly didn’t approve of my plane, or me.

  “What is the meaning of this… this abomination?”

  Abomination. Hadn’t I been called that before? But he wasn’t talking about me. It was my plane that bothered him, because of the Tal’mar aversion to metals. Clearly, he didn’t approve of the way Tinker and I had melded wood and steel. He stood two yards away from me and almost seemed afraid to come closer. I put my hands in the air to show that I wasn’t armed, and climbed out of the plane.

  “I’ve come with a message for the queen,” I said.

  I still had my flying cap on, so my ears were covered, but I could tell that he could sense the Tal’mar in me. He frowned deeply and muttered something in his own language, which I could only assume meant “half-breed.” The meaning was clear enough from the look on his face. I ignored this, and pulled the ambassador papers from my jacket. “I must have an audience with the queen.”

  He snatched the papers out of my hand
and looked them over. “We no longer honor treaties with humans,” he said. “Get back on that thing and pray we don’t shoot you down before you’re out of sight.”

  I glanced at the other guards standing behind him, and saw that he had their support. I blinked, and took a deep breath. “I’m not leaving,” I said firmly. “I must speak to the queen. The Kanters are marching across the southlands even as we speak.”

  “Good,” he said. “I hope they eradicate your kind once and for all… Archers!”

  He raised a finger and I heard rustling in the branches. Once again, I opened my mind up to the trees, trying to communicate with them. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that I could win them over to my cause. As soon as I did this, the man backhanded me.

  I stumbled back against the plane and Cinder leapt forward in my defense. She growled and latched onto the man’s ankle. There was a slight rustling overhead, and an arrow appeared in Cinder’s side. She yelped once and then dropped.

  “No!” I screamed. I jumped forward, but an arrow struck me in the shoulder and something hard hit me in the back of the head. I had just enough time to feel the burning sensation of that arrow twisting through my body before I lost consciousness. My thoughts went wild, reaching out to Cinder and to the trees, but the only response I received was darkness.

  Chapter 32

  I thought I had been alone before. I thought my life had been painful and solitary. I didn’t realize until I woke in the Tal’mar dungeon that I had never truly been alone. Nothing I had ever experienced could have prepared me for that.

  It was dark. Only the barest light from a distant torch cast shadows on the stone walls of my cage. I tried to reach out with my mind, first to find Cinder and then to study the structure of the cell, and both times I met resistance. It was almost physical, this invisible force that pushed against me, refusing my every attempt. The harder I pushed, the more firm the resistance became. I fought a wave of panic as I realized that I was locked entirely inside myself. Any effort to reach out to the world around me was denied.