by Eric Vall
In fact, everything was outrageously sturdy, which meant I had a bit of room to play with before the structure would begin to weaken. I shaved off the excess bulk of the upper frame, and even thinned out the solid plate of the interior a little as well. I had several extra lumps of steel by the time I finished, and I sifted through every inch of the frame once more to be sure I hadn’t removed too much.
With everything perfectly sound, I was about to move on to the doors, when I noticed Bobbie’s engine still stacked at the base of the shelf against the wall.
It felt wrong, honestly, to take poor Bobbie’s guts and slap them into another body. It seemed like I’d slandered her existence completely, but I could still hear her growl in the back of my mind, and my heart ached a little to hear it again.
So, I walked over to retrieve my jug from where it landed and took a last, long gulp, before I clunked it down on the worktable and headed toward the shelf.
I carried the sterling engine without my magic because it seemed like the right thing to do, and I set it down as gentle as if it was a baby in front of the Mustang. There was more than enough room to tuck the small engine anywhere I pleased, but I decided directly in front of the steering shaft was the best place. This way, she’d be nearby as I drove.
Bobbie would’ve wanted that.
I sighed as I pulled a piece of steel over and formed an engine mount beside the wheelhouse and just in front of the steering shaft. With the mount welded to the crossbeams of the base frame, I carefully lifted Bobbie’s engine onto its mount. Then I focused my magic at the base of her housing, and I slowly let the steel fuse with the mount entirely so she’d be completely connected to the make up of the car, and the power of the gem might still reach her.
Even if it didn’t, at least I’d know she was there.
I grimaced as I took one last lingering glance at the engine before I turned away, and then I halted in my place as the iron door began to rattle.
My eyes shot toward the sound.
It must have been well into the evening by now, but someone was banging, not knocking, against the door. I swiftly pulled the stone floor up and over the frame just as Stan leapt out in a panic.
The banging stopped as suddenly as it had started, and I narrowed my eyes as I slowly came to the door and slid it open by only half a foot.
Nothing but blackness greeted me, and my hand slid to the handle of my revolver, but before I’d removed it, I saw a faint flash of white in front me.
Deya was pale as she flickered into view, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her brow.
“What happened?” I demanded.
The beautiful elf fought to catch her breath for a moment.
“House Kylen has fallen,” she finally managed, “to House Syru.”
Chapter 17
Deya clutched my hand as we ran across the courtyard toward House Aelin.
“Where are the others?” I asked as we went.
I couldn’t help but notice the elf struggled to keep up, and she spoke brokenly as she responded.
“In their suite,” Deya said. “They said they’re packing their things but I … ”
We slowed down just outside the doors, and I turned to get a closer look at her.
“You’re shaking,” I pointed out. “Are you okay?”
Deya nodded, but her bare arms continued to tremble. “House Kylen is only three leagues away,” she said breathlessly. “If House Syru’s army has settled there, then House Quyn will be the next to fall.”
I pulled the beautiful elf into my arms as her eyes welled with tears. “Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’m not gonna let that happen.”
She nodded as she swiped a trail of tears from her cheek, and I looped my hand in hers before we quickly continued into House Aelin.
The lanterns were still lit all over the house despite the late hour, and servants bustled past with piles of pillows and drink carts that rattled with gilded goblets. It looked like Aeris was putting his visitors up for the night, and I rolled my eyes as we were forced to wait for a giant chaise with golden trim to be carried past by four haggard servants.
We finally made it through the last hall and out into the domed chamber, and my steps echoed as we ran across the marble toward the entryway, but Deya didn’t make a sound aside from her shallow breaths. When we turned and came to the arching doorway we’d entered on our first day at House Aelin, I shoved the hefty doors open and remembered to let go of Deya’s hand just in time.
Instead of Aeris’ guards, the once quiet chamber was filled with several armed elves from both House Pree and House Elyn, and at the far end of the room near the staircase, I could make out the fine robes of the Elite.
We wove through the many guards, and as I approached the three heads of the Houses, Aeris’ expression suddenly greeted me with a warm smile.
“Ahh, Mason Flynt,” he said graciously. “Gentlemen, I trust you remember Defender Flynt? He has been staying with us here to help ensure the safety of House Aelin, along with the lovely Miss Deya, of course.”
The other two elves leveled me with indignant glances, and I cocked a brow at the ridiculous introduction.
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “What’s going on? What have you heard from the south?”
“Why don’t we gather in the west cabinet to discuss the matter,” Aeris suggested, and the three Elite slowly turned to make their way toward the side doors at the far left of the chamber.
I fidgeted with my holster while we practically strolled to get there, and I fought against the urge to step on the heels of the elves in front of me just to nudge them up a gear.
No house had ever fallen in Nalnora, but I had a feeling even this turn of events hadn’t shaken the heads of Houses up nearly enough. They talked casually in Elvish as they led us to the west cabinet, and I began to worry Deya might drop at any minute.
She still trembled all over, but as much as I wanted to settle my arm around her shoulders, I knew the consequences were too much to risk at the moment. The notion only fed my irritation though, so I casually slipped my hand in hers as we pushed through the crowded room, and the beautiful elf leaned in against me.
By the time we made it to the room where Deya had been introduced to Aeris’ sons, I was completely out of patience, and the beautiful elf discretely slid her hand from mine.
“What is your plan of action?” I started while the three heads of Houses settled into their gilded chairs.
Aeris drew a long breath and made himself comfortable.
“Well, this is an unfortunate situation,” he needlessly pointed out. “House Kylen were a respected House, and their army was a powerful one. I confess, I do not know what to make of this.” Aeris turned to the head of House Pree. “Pyrs? What do you have to say about the matter?”
Pyrs nodded slowly and toyed with the golden pendent around his neck. “Only what I have said all afternoon. House Syru have surprised us,” he added. Then he turned to me. “I heard of your scrimmage with their leader not long ago, and although I knew the youngest nephew would inevitably take his place, I did not think he was as ambitious as this. Ambition of this sort could hinder the peace in Nalnora.”
I cocked a brow at the leader’s idea of peace.
“We must consider this,” the head of House Elyn said solemnly. “House Syru is not weak by any means, and if any are left at House Kylen who will pledge their loyalty, this could present a threat to our Houses.”
I stared. “You’re in Lyralus,” I pointed out. “House Kylen’s ten leagues from here. You’re fine for now. What about House Quyn? Deya’s family are House Kylen’s nearest neighbor, and if the armies decide to carry on--”
“Yes,” Aeris cut in with a grave nod. Then he leaned a bit to speak in a low voice to the other two. “House Quyn are not in a great position. Poor Qiran has been weakened with Pura Rubrum, unfortunately.”
“Has he?” Pyrs asked, and his eagerness was poorly masked. “I was not aware his House had fall
en on difficult circumstances.”
“Yes, he keeps to himself, of course,” Aeris replied. “Quite prideful as you know. But it is true. He confided in me when I last visited in the south. I do worry about Qiran, he has not the valor he once had.”
I furrowed my brow as I listened to the head of House Aelin expose Deya’s father, and I glanced over to see her flushed with anger. We’d done everything we could to prevent any House from knowing that the head of House Quyn was vulnerable, but it didn’t really surprise me to hear Aeris carry on as he did.
“My father is healed,” Deya suddenly spoke up, and her voice had a similar timber to the one I’d heard in the south when the leaves began to tremble around her. “His illness is well in hand. He grows stronger every day.”
The three heads of Houses smiled politely, and then Pyrs turned back to Aeris. “Perhaps I should offer my assistance,” he said as he stroked his chin. “House Quyn has an extensive reputation due to their ancestor’s legacy. If the threat of House Syru’s army becomes a serious one, it might be prudent to preserve what we can of their knowledge. There is the son, Dragir, I believe. I hear he possesses a nearly equivocal aptitude to that of his grandfather’s.”
I could hear Deya’s breathing quicken, and Aeris waved a hand dismissively.
“Do as you please with the boy,” he said boredly. “I have no need of House Quyn’s legacy. Mason Flynt has been working to provide me a full armory since his arrival.”
All three Elite looked at me, and Aeris smiled smugly while the other two looked on in shock.
“Has he?” Pyrs asked thickly.
Aeris nodded. “Yes, I thought it best to employ him given how important my own House’s legacy is. We are thankfully well prepared for any threats from the south, are we not?”
I ground my jaw for a bit, but I didn’t answer the question. “And what of House Quyn and the others?” I countered. “You gave me the impression you would stand behind me against this very threat. Now a House has fallen for the first time in your history. Will you keep you word?”
Aeris hesitated only a moment. “Of course I will,” he finally said. “Should House Syru choose to foolishly make their way to Lyralus, you and your weapons will undoubtedly ensure victory.”
I nodded along.
“What weapons are these?” the head of House Elyn demanded. He looked between Aeris and me, and his eyes flared like a jealous child.
“One hundred and fifty of his own personal design,” Aeris replied. “The very same we witnessed the power of at the hall of the Elven Council.”
I let out a low sigh as Pyrs and his counterpart erupted, and they argued across Aeris as the elf continued to look more than pleased with himself. I couldn’t understand anything they said, but my pulse quickened with every minute they wasted by bickering.
I finally raised my voice. “None of this matters,” I interrupted. “House Syru are gaining in strength and number. We must stop them now before they destroy the other Houses. Their army will only grow as the Master possesses their victims. We have to act fast.”
The three Elite looked at me for a long moment in silence.
Then Pyrs finally responded. “What gives you the impression House Syru have anything to do with this Master you keep mentioning?”
I opened my mouth to respond with a vengeance, but as I considered the condescension etched into the faces of the three elves in front of me, all of my fury give out.
“You know what?” I said. “Don’t worry about it. You guys carry on.”
I turned to leave, but Aeris called me back.
“Why don’t you bring the weapons here?” he requested smugly. “I’m sure my guests would appreciate a private demonstration. You may take a few guards with to assist you if need be.”
I tried not to smirk. “Of course,” I told Aeris. “I only need another hour or so to finish the final details.”
“Excellent,” Aeris said. “Return to your work and bring the weapons straight here when you’ve finished.”
“Absolutely.”
Deya wove her arm around mine as we made to leave, and I noticed the serpentine eyes of all three leaders narrow at the gesture.
I led her away regardless and was honestly shocked no daggers impaled my back before we made it out of the chamber.
Once we’d left the throng of guards and turned back toward the deep blue halls, Deya finally spoke.
“Mason, what are we going to do?” she asked anxiously. “You don’t have anything to bring to Aeris, and they aren’t going to help my House. They only want Dragir’s weapons, and if they think letting us fall is the best way to get--”
I halted at the base of the spiral stairs. “Pack your things,” I told her in a low voice. “Get Cayla and the others to help you bring everything you stole to the shop in half an hour. Can you do that?”
Deya looked at me uneasily, but she nodded.
“Good,” I said, and I kissed her until I felt the muscles in her back go limp in my grip. When I released her, the beautiful elf was flushed to the roots of her hair. “Better?”
Deya nodded blankly. “I’ll pack.”
I grinned. “Which hall were those windows in?”
Deya pointed the way, and I sent her a wink before I turned to quickly make my way through House Aelin.
When I wrenched the iron door open, Stan looked up as he dangled upside down from the steering wheel, and as soon as he dropped to the floor, he ran over and looked up at me eagerly.
“Change of plans,” I told the metal man, and I firmly shut the door at my back. “We’ll worry about fine tuning another time. Right now, we’ve gotta go.”
Stan nodded curtly and climbed out of the car, and as I carefully lowered the two panes of glass onto the worktable, he climbed up the stool to keep himself out of the way.
I’d softened the stonework around one of the windows to remove the glass I’d need for the windshield and the back window earlier, and I’d held my breath as I waited for the first pane of glass to fall and shatter at my feet.
I had never worked with glass in this realm, but as I’d hoped, I was actually able to use my Terra Magic to influence the substance. I’d formed walls and trenches in all matter of substrate, and I recalled much of the ground near Cedis had a high percentage of sand mixed into the soil that hadn’t hindered any of my work.
Now that I could ease into my connection with my elements on a more molecular level, I found the melting of the sand required to create glass didn’t hinder my connection to its fundamental makeup at all.
Now, I carefully let the glass ease into a liquid state so I could mount it in the Mustang. It felt so strange after working strictly with steel for days, but the sensation reminded me a lot of playing with Jell-O as a kid.
I couldn’t fuse the metal with the glass, though, so once I had the surface smoothed out without any imperfections, I decided to try something new.
My head began to pound lightly as I split my focus, and while one arm channeled my Terra Magic to keep the glass in place, the other arm pulsed with my Metal Magic to soften the frame and clamp it around the rim in order to secure the glass in place.
My vision dotted with little black spots once it was complete, and my brain felt strangely scattered, but overall, summoning both of my powers at once was oddly satisfying aside from the disorientation.
“Mmm,” I groaned as I rubbed my temple. “That’s a new one.”
I heard a light tapping and opened my eyes to find Stan had climbed to the worktable and was walking all over the rear glass window.
“You like it?” I asked as I joined him. “Where I come from, we call that tinted, but usually they’re black on a car, not blue.”
The deep blue glass was dark, but not too dark to see out of, and Stan was immediately distracted by his reflection on the surface.
I slowly tipped it up to slide him back onto the table.
“We’re in a bit of a hurry,” I told the metal man with a chuckle, and the
n I turned to mount the rear window.
My head pounded immediately on either side of my eyes, but the process came more easily the second time I split my powers, and with the deep blue glass in place, I headed over to pull the vat of water away from the wall.
The trunk compartment settled in neatly against the base frame, and I fused the steel to the cross beams before I sealed the compartment all the way around the edges.
Then I shifted the shelves aside with a wave of my hand, and the front and rear panels lifted into the air and drifted toward the frame of the Mustang.
In less than fifteen minutes, I had the entire body fused to the frame, and I lowered the hood over Bobbie’s engine to round out the fenders seamlessly.
“If we don’t die down south, I’ll show you how to make hinges some time,” I grunted to Stan as I lifted Bobbie’s skeleton into the trunk. What was left of her fit easily inside, and a grin spread across my face as I eyed the extra space in the compartment.
Then I turned to look around the shop.
“Waste not … ” I muttered, and I lifted every remaining piece of steel and all of the silver up from the shelves to stow it in the trunk of the Mustang. There was a small stash of gold tucked in the lowest shelf as well, so I snagged that, too.
Stan rubbed nervously at the back of his neck as he watched me snatch up every scrap of metal I could find, but I only sent him a devilish grin.
“What?” I asked. “They’re ready to let Deya’s House fall to the fucking Master.”
Stan slowly stood.
“I’m serious,” I assured him.
Then the little metal man turned to look around the shop and pointed to a chunk of gold that had rolled under the shelves.
“Good eye,” I said. “Shoshanne loves gold.”
Once I’d practically cleared the shop, I eyed the empty interior of the car. I didn’t have time to create the sliding rack needed to adjust the seats, so I decided I’d shift the metal as needed for now and formed a long bench-like frame across the front.
I had just finished filling in the backrest and fusing it to the floor when the door began to open, and I looked up.
