by Steven Bohls
Shay.
“I’m here,” he said unsteadily.
“We’re almost to Rigger Hollow, but it looks kind of broken. Is it broken? Are you broken?”
“You got my message,” he said.
“You mean, your messages. All six hundred of them.”
“I found the tug crew. We’re safe for now,” Jed said, his voice still shaking from the senseless murder in front of him. “Meet us half a sunfall from the east side of Rigger Hollow. I’ll explain everything.”
Jed
Coordinates set, Bessie began sailing toward their destination. Jed leaned against the ship’s railing, still in shock from what he’d just seen. Penny…Her sweet face haunted him now when he closed his eyes. She was dead. They were all dead. He wondered if the pieces of Rigger Hollow were still on fire.
A meaty hand slapped against his shoulder. “You doin’ all right, there, Jed?” Pobble said, joining them at the railing.
Jed shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re all…dead.”
“It ain’t your fault,” Pobble said. “Ya know that, right?”
“I guess so. But it sort of feels like it is.”
“Yeah. I get that.” He gave Jed a curious look. “So…changing the subject…you really got scrap for bones, then?”
Jed smiled at him. “Yeah. I guess I do. I’m just one big piece of clunk.”
Pobble slapped his own belly with both hands. “Nah, you ain’t that big. You’s got a long way to go before you can ever call you big.”
Angry footsteps clomped toward them from behind. Jed turned around to find himself nose-to-nose with Kizer.
“Start talking,” he said.
Jed rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “Hm. What should we talk about? Ah, I got it: You know what goes really well with tarragon? Salmon and artichokes.”
Kizer slowly shook his head.
“No, I’m serious,” Jed said. “The tarragon really brings out the fish’s flavor.”
Kizer folded his arms and kept glaring. “I’m not in the mood, Golden Boy.”
“I get it,” Jed said. “Sometimes I’m not in the mood for fish, either. Tarragon also goes pretty well with veal.”
Pobble snorted.
“Either start talking, or I’m going to start pulling off those scrap limbs of yours,” Kizer said.
Jed assessed his arms. “That’s the thing about having arms made out of scrap,” he said. “They are held together quite well.” He rotated his arm in a circle.
“Fine,” Kizer said. “Then either you start talking, or I’ll throw you off this tug.”
“You’ve really got to work on your threats,” Jed said. “I know that used to be your thing—throwing me off the boat and all—but the thing is…I can sort of fly now.”
Pobble’s mouth dropped open, and his face lit up with a giddy excitement. “Really?” he asked with a childlike enthusiasm.
“Stop gawking at him,” Kizer said. “He can’t fly. He’s just a smart mouth. You know that.”
Jed smirked. “I’ll make you a deal, Ki.” He folded his arms and matched Kizer’s intimidating posture. “If I can fly circles around this tug, then you have to cook lunch for Pobble, Riggs, and me. And”—he held up a finger—“you have to cook it in a bathtub. Just like old times. Fire and all.”
Kizer looked from Pobble to Jed. “Liar,” he said finally.
Jed stuck out his hand, ready to shake. “Do we have a deal?”
• • •
Kizer spent almost the entire trip trying to make the crew lunch in the bathtub. He hadn’t said a single word to Jed since watching him soar around Bessie like an iron falcon. The poor man had no idea what he was doing as he mixed together canned pineapple, black beans, and creamed corn.
“I found some glasses on Lyle’s ship,” Jed said to Riggs. The three of them sat in wooden chairs next to the bathtub as Kizer worked. “Kind of like the ones you have,” he said.
Riggs leaned forward. “You did?”
Jed nodded. “I wasn’t lying when I told you all that time ago that I didn’t know where other relics were. I just didn’t realize that I was one of them.”
Riggs laughed.
“So what else can you do?” Pobble asked.
Jed activated his rally spark and concentrated on the junk around them. Coconut milk…he said inside his head. From several miles away, his mind connected with a can of coconut milk. It ripped from the piles and soared toward him, then slapped against his open hand. He leaned over and handed the coconut milk to Kizer. “Here. Try this. I think it might be one of the only ingredients that could save that mess,” he said with a wink.
Pobble clapped his hands and beamed at Jed.
Riggs released an admiring whistle.
Kizer didn’t know whether to look completely terrified or utterly impressed.
Jed
As Bessie landed atop the dreadnought, Ryan stood waiting with Shay and Captain Bog.
Jed leaped from the side of the tugboat, startling everyone as he sailed through the air and landed gracefully beside them.
“You’re not broken anymore!” Shay squeaked in delight.
His father wrapped him in a tight hug, and even Captain Bog gave him an admiring nod.
The rest of the tug crew ambled from their ship and reunited with their captain.
But Jed’s happy grin faded almost as quickly as it had come when a dark voice returned to his mind.
“Rigger Hollow was a show of things to come if you do not return,” Lyle said, with a wicked bite.
“Jed?” his dad said. “Are you all right?”
Jed told them of his connection with Lyle. “He won’t stop until I go back.”
“You can’t do that,” his dad said. “If you go back and he finds a way to use your sparks, he will be impossible to stop. Destroying cities would only be the beginning.”
Jed nodded. “I know. What are we going to do?”
“I still have control of around seventy warships,” Bog said. “I already sent ghostnoughts to follow his trail. If he moves against another city, I can send my legion to intercept. I’m not sure how long I can hold him off, but I can try.”
“If you wage war, the iron and copper are just going to attack both of you,” Ryan said. “They see this civil war as an opportunity to stop the dread once and for all.”
“What other choice do we have?” Bog said.
Jed shot him a bemused look. “Going soft in your old age?” he asked.
“Shut up, kid,” Bog scowled back.
“What about the gold city?” Jed said.
The others looked at him. “How do you know about that?” Ryan asked.
“Complicated story,” Jed said. “How do you know about it?”
“A long time ago, your mother and I worked with the golds. They contacted us when they discovered that Lyle was going to reactivate you. They helped us find you. No one else knows where they are. They gave us that watch on your wrist as the only way to find them. But that was then. And I no longer have the spectacles needed to read the watch.”
“I do,” Riggs said.
The others looked at him.
“If you’re going,” Shay cut in, “I’m going with you. So you don’t get lost again.”
“That’s a good idea,” Ryan said. “Bog, do you have a cruiser they can take?”
“Lyle is hunting me,” Jed said. “He probably has his own ghostnoughts lurking around the skies. If I take a ship, there’s more of a chance that we’ll get caught. I can fly there on my own using my sparks. I’ll be harder to spot without a ship.”
Shay grinned. “Perfect,” she said. “And since I’ll still be going with you, then you’ll need to make me some wings.”
• • •
“I’ve never made wings that can carry anything bigger than a tin can,” Jed said dubiously, looking at Sprocket’s wings. Shay’s new wings were also cobbled together from junkyard parts. But Shay’s set buckled on like a backpack and was patt
erned after a decidedly more elegant pair of wings—Alice’s.
Thin hammered copper plates were fastened together with gears and wiring stretching back and forth. Jed infused the wings with energy from his spark the way he did with Sprocket’s. A battery housing unit directed the power to the machine. Tiny whirring fans gave off a gentle hum. Shay danced in excitement when she saw them.
The crew met at the top deck, where Riggs examined Jed’s watch.
“How far away does it say it is?” Shay asked.
“About three sunfalls,” Riggs said, switching glasses.
“We’ll hold off the dread,” Bog said. “You two get there and bring help.”
Jed’s dad gripped both of his shoulders. “Don’t get lost this time,” he said.
Jed smiled. “Same to you.”
Jed
Shay’s eyes grew larger when her wings started to flutter. She lifted up and down, practicing. Before long, she was spinning, flipping, and squealing through the air.
Bog smiled fondly at her. “They suit you,” he said.
“They do, don’t they?” Shay said, twirling once in the air before landing delicately.
“Hold on,” Bog said. “I want you to take something with you before you go.” He left the deck and returned a few minutes later with a sack. “Here,” he said, handing the sack to Shay. “Extra batteries. Plenty to keep your new wings running fresh. If you even start feeling a single battery limping behind,” he said, holding up a scolding finger, “you go ahead and swap out the whole set. Clear? That boy’s clunk engineering is questionable at best.”
Shay grinned and wrapped him in a tight hug. “I love you, too,” she said.
Jed watched as the gruff captain’s face flushed a bright red.
Bog squeezed Shay with his burly arms before turning to Jed. “You let anything happen to my Shay,” he said, eyes squinting with threat, “and I’ll make sure your face makes mine look like it just won a beauty pageant award.”
Unsure how to respond to that, Jed nodded uncomfortably.
“Shall we?” Shay said, her wings fluttering with excitement.
Bog lead them to the side of the ship, where Jed and Shay leaped into the open air.
Wind rushed past Jed’s face, and his stomach pinched with excitement. As soon as he could sense the junk below, he mutinied himself diagonally away from it, soaring toward the bright sun.
Shay and Sprocket zipped along beside him. Shay barrel-rolled through the air, eyes giddy with her newfound freedom.
They flew all day, stopping only to replace her batteries as promised. When the sky turned a brilliant orange, they searched for a place to land.
Jed’s sparks burned with heat. The long journey made them feel like tiny fireballs under his skin. The warmth filled every inch of him as if he had spent the day baking in an oven.
“How close?” Shay asked.
Jed checked his watch. “It says we’re already here…” he said, confusion pulling at his tone.
The piles around them were barren. There was no city—floating or otherwise—in sight. The sun was nearly down, but there was still plenty of light to see that there was nothing here.
Shay frowned. “It’s not a very big city, is it?”
This was supposed to be Lawnmower Mountain, but there wasn’t a mountain anywhere—not for several sunfalls in any direction—let alone one made of lawn mowers.
Jed sat down and rested his forehead in his hands. What’s our backup plan? he asked himself. Shay zipped around, unconcerned.
The final light of the sunset had vanished. Except…not entirely. A faint glint of yellow caught Jed’s eye. It came from behind a kicked-in stereo system. He stared at it, waiting for it to disappear as the other light lacing the junk had. But it didn’t. There was something beneath it.
“Hey,” Jed called to Shay. “Come look at this.”
Shay landed with a pout, and her eyes fixed on the spot of light.
“Do you see it?” Jed asked.
“Maybe it’s a lemon,” she said, licking her lips. “A sweet, sweet, lemon.”
“I don’t think it’s a lemon,” Jed said. “I think it’s a light.”
“Hmm. Could be. But a lemon sounds much better, don’t you think?”
They inched closer to the sliver of light. Jed lifted his hands. He charged the light with mutiny and pushed. The gap widened. Jed mutinied harder. Junk squealed as it compressed and moved away from the light. Eventually, there was a gap big enough to crawl through.
“Ohh. It’s pretty,” Shay said as the light intensified. “Dig more! Dig more!”
Jed crawled into the tunnel and pushed again. Debris folded away, and Jed crept forward another few inches. With each kneeling step, he cleared more junk from his path. Shay scampered after him on hands and knees.
“It’s below us,” he said to her.
Jed charged the barrier of clutter to mutiny away. The tunnel opened underneath them. The yellow glow shot through the hole and lit the tunnel like a train steamrolling through. More junk broke free, sending Jed spiraling through the air.
Jed
A new world enveloped Jed—horizon to horizon—in yellow. He spun and tumbled down, down, down. It’s a sinkhole, he thought. A bubble popped. And I popped with it.
Green and blue and gold filled his eyes. Far below him, grass and water stretched across the landscape. Overhead, a dome of brilliant yellow lights sparkled like a million tiny suns. Orchards speckled with yellow, red, and pink fruits dotted the view. Patches of the rich earthy fields surrounded a village of stone cottages. A mountain jutted unnaturally high in the distance. Green vines tangled through the mountain’s surface, giving it a long-forgotten look. There it is, Jed thought. Lawnmower Mountain.
Jed fell so fast he nearly forgot he was falling. He tried to charge the mutiny spark before he collided with a grassy hill.
Nothing happened.
He had plenty of energy—that much he could feel. He tried the mutiny spark again, but it remained blocked. Jed’s stomach pinched as he tried again and again without success. Panic built.
What if I shatter into a thousand bits of golden scrap?
Jed squeezed his eyes shut as the ground raced toward him.
A blinding pain shot through his body as he slammed into a patch of grass. If his body had shattered to bits, it couldn’t have hurt worse than what he felt at this moment. The air was knocked out of him as he lay helplessly on the grass, wondering if his face had left a Jed-shaped indentation on the ground. Finally, once he was sure his limbs were still attached and in working order, he coughed and rolled onto his back.
From down here, the dome lights didn’t look like lights at all. The sky glowed with a singular soft golden color. Metal wings fluttered over him as Shay twisted and flipped through the air. She landed softly beside him and took his hand, helping him to his feet.
“That must have been so much fun,” she said. “If I were a brave mouse like you, I would’ve fallen all the way down and landed on my face, too.” Her expression held a hint of jealousy at his “fun” plunge through the dome.
“Oh, hello,” Shay said, waving to something behind Jed.
He turned around and saw a group of figures standing in silence beside a stone water well. Some of them had half-filled pails; others waited with empty ones. The figures were gold. All of them. Not an ounce of skin on them. They were beautiful. Fine rods of gold connected to golden hinges. Golden gears spinning behind golden grates.
They stared at Shay and him, motionless.
“Um, hi?” Jed said, waving with Shay.
“Humans!” one of them yelled.
As if they just now saw the two for the first time, the golds near the water well ran frantically. Several of them collided into one another and fell. Others tripped over the fallen golds. They looked a bit like an amateur circus troupe as they bumbled over one another to get away.
“Humans!”
“Humans!”
“Humans!�
�� they yelled. “Call for the sentinels!”
“Wait,” Jed called after them. “No, I’m not—”
Metallic sirens clanged. Jed spun around. A small company of three armored soldiers hustled toward him. The man in the middle looked to be at least a head shorter then Jed, the man on the left was about his size, and the woman on the right dwarfed the other two with her towering height. They were clad in ill-fitting plates of silver armor.
“Halt in the name of the queen!” the short one shouted.
“They look mad,” Shay whispered to Jed.
“Wait,” Jed said, holding out his hands. “We’re not here to hurt anyone.”
“Fire!” the middle soldier bellowed to the other two.
The awkward trio heaved shatterkegs nearly as big as themselves. They fired. Jed winced, awaiting the impact. Explosions shook the ground around them, but none of the shots hit him or Shay. The force of the mobile shatterkegs spun two of the soldiers around and knocked the third on her back. Before Jed could call out again, they were back on their feet and firing another volley.
The soldiers’ eyes were wide with fear. Their arms shook as if they’d never battled before.
“Fire!” the shortest one shouted again. This round was worse than the first. All three shots flew over Jed’s head and struck grassy patches in the distance.
“Stop,” Jed called. “We’re not here to attack.”
But the nervous soldiers weren’t listening. Their arms rattled with panic as they continued to fire round after round, frantic but completely inept. The closer they drew, the worse their aim became.
They ran toward Jed and Shay, launching another volley. One of them fired a shot before he’d even had a chance to lift the shatterkeg. Aimed at the ground, the weapon blasted the terrified gold into the air.
The soldiers scrambled closer. They struggled to aim and fire their shatterkegs. Finally, one of the shots clipped Jed’s shoulder. The impact sent him spinning to the ground. The soldiers raised their shatterkegs at Jed; their eyes landed on his shoulder.
They froze.
“Gold,” the tall woman whispered.
