Flight of the King (27 page)

TREMELO SAT ON A
stone bench outside the Fairmount library, smoking a pipeful of tobacco. To any passing student, he appeared to be enjoying the crisp
March air. But in actuality, he kept a close watch on the entrance to the Mathematics and Medicine building. Viviana's Reckoning would take place in a little over one week, and he and Tori
were about to add the last necessary piece to the Halcyon—if they could get their hands on it.

The bells in the Fairmount clock tower struck three. He rose from the bench and strode through the imposing marble archways of the building.

Students exiting their classrooms streamed past him as he climbed a set of large marble stairs to the second floor. Hal and Bailey were still missing, but the attitude of the Fairmount student
body at large had shifted from fear to annoyance. Students whined openly about curfew, and more than one teacher had lately shirked their chaperone duties in favor of an early supper or warm fire.
As he neared the large windows that looked out from the hall to the clock tower, Tremelo saw Tori standing in a recessed nook with a slim, black-haired boy—Lyle Clarke. Tremelo approached
slowly, careful not to confront them too soon.

“Can I hold it?” he heard Tori ask. Lyle looked up to survey the hallway, and Tremelo quickly pretended to be reading a metal plaque on the wall next to him marking a room
number.

“Just be quick,” the boy said, so quietly that Tremelo barely heard him at all over the din of students.

When he turned, Tori cupped a metal, egglike orb in her hands. It appeared to be constructed of silver, with a seam through its middle that suggested another layer inside. Tremelo walked quickly
over to the pair.

“And what's this, Miss Colubride?” he said loudly, employing his most authoritative, professorial tone. “You two aren't supposed to be on your own. And what's
that?”

“It's for an experiment, Mr. Tremelo,” Tori said. Lyle's eyes darted from Tremelo to the orb, but Tori was relishing her part in this little piece of theater.
“For…Mr. Millstone's class.” She looked at Lyle, who nodded fervently.

“Yes, for a class,” he agreed.

Tremelo held out his hand for the orb.

“I happen to know that Millstone is only covering acids and bases in his Chemistry course this week,” he said. “And I
don't
appreciate being lied to.”

Tori's eyes met Tremelo's as she handed him the orb. This was going smoother than either of them could have hoped. Pretending to be sheepish, Tori folded her head and looked down at
the floor. But Lyle stepped forward brashly.

“You can't take it,” he said. “My father sent it to me, and he's very important.…”

“Your father sent you a potent piece of machinery, which could do significant damage if used incorrectly. It has no place in a student's possession.”

Tremelo turned the orb carefully, studying it. The metal seemed to tingle and grow warm against his fingers. Mr. Clarke, whoever he was, was tinkering with some dangerous energies.

“I'll need to take a close look at this before returning it by post to your father.” He wrapped the orb up hastily and placed it in his blazer pocket. “Miss Colubride,
Mr. Clarke. Be more careful in the future—this is no plaything.”

He walked quickly away from the bright hallway windows, and reached his cluttered office with no trouble. Fennel waited patiently on his desk.

Several minutes passed before the door opened and Tori entered in a gust of adrenaline.

“Ants alive, he's upset!” she said.

“Let's just hope he doesn't contact his father right away,” said Tremelo. “We'll need time to test this in the Halcyon.”

“I don't think he
will
tell,” said Tori. She lowered her voice and cast a sidelong glance at the workshop door. “As soon as you left, he went all shaky and said
if anyone knew the orb was here, the Dominae would come after it.”

“He might be right,” said Tremelo.

“He's worried about his dad,” she said. “Lyle's last letter to him was returned unopened. Lyle's afraid the Dominae found out that Mr. Clarke was sending
prototypes to him. If we're found with this thing, promise me we won't tell anyone where we got it.”

Tremelo placed a hand on her shoulder. The verve he'd witnessed in her earlier had given way to genuine worry for her friend.

“I promise,” he said.

Tremelo unwrapped the orb. As he picked it up, the skin along his arm began to tingle, and his hair stood on end as he carefully inserted the orb into the Halcyon. The orb's potency struck
him immediately: just touching it, he felt his senses heighten, and as soon as he threw the switch on the side of the Halcyon, the gramophone erupted in strains of beautiful music. Pure energy
poured out of the machine.

“It's ingenious,” Tremelo murmured, losing himself in the pull of new technology. “Kinetic electro-current contained within a highly conductive, yet virtually
indestructible metal…”

“Tremelo,” Tori said, folding her arms across her chest. “Slow down and explain.”

He steeled himself and tried again.

“This metal is special. It's similar to silver, but with even stronger properties…I've never seen it,” he began. “This little orb amplifies energy, even the bond
itself. Amazing…and frightening.”

Tori tilted her head and listened solemnly. Fennel sat on the desk, studying the machine along with them.

“My machine, in its original form, amplifies the energy of the Animas bond. When Fennel and I are connected to the machine, our souls communicate.”

Tremelo smiled, thinking of the otherworldly music that it created. Calming and beautiful—just as the bond was supposed to be.

“That energy leaves the machine as a wavelength you can hear, like music. It has the power to strengthen the bond, just the way Gwen's harmonica playing did before. But a machine fed
by Dominance would create the opposite effect, spreading discord and mayhem.

“We saw what Sucrette was able to do with no assistance—it must have been twenty different animals she was controlling in the woods last fall. With something like this machine, a
Dominae as strong as Sucrette could control fifty times that many, a hundred times, even! And we can be sure that Viviana is extremely powerful.”

“What would she want to do with that many animals at once?” asked Tori.

“I don't know,” said Tremelo. “I don't even want to imagine. But if the orb can be used to strengthen the bond as well as warp it, we can use our Halcyon to
counteract Viviana's machine. I just hope that this prototype is as forceful as the one she'll have at the Fair.”

Tori shrieked, and Tremelo jumped in his chair. He looked up from the Halcyon to see her gaping at the office window.

“It's one of those things,” she said, leaving her chair and backing away to the far wall of the office. “One of those metal birds of hers—it's spying on
us!”

Tremelo marched to the window, and immediately recoiled. Tori was right—a massive metal crow, easily four times the size of a real bird, perched ominously on the tree branch outside. It
stared straight at Tremelo with cold black eyes. Something in the inner mechanics of the bird clicked and whirred, and its metal beak squeaked open.

Tremelo!
the bird said, in a familiar voice.

It's me; it's Bailey! If this reaches you, then I actually put this thing back together right!

Tremelo leaned forward on the window ledge for support; the sound of Bailey's voice from this fearful contraption floored him. He was relieved, but he feared what would come next. Tori
crept forward, and together they stood, listening.

We've been kidnapped, Hal and I, by the Jackal—he's got us in a compound in the Dust Plains, but he plans to take us to the Progress Fair.

Tori gasped, but remained quiet.

I can't talk long. But I needed to warn you—he'll be at the Fair, ready to start a war. It's time to act. You have to find the Velyn and convince Eneas to help you.
Maybe if they know that the Jackal will be there, they'll be willing to fight. Please, find them, and the RATS too—bring everyone you can!

The machine stopped its whirring. Its eyes, which had been flickering red while the recorded voice had played, died like the last embers of a fire.

“The Jackal,” breathed Tori. “I thought he was dead!”

Tremelo shook his head. Anger burbled inside him.

“Parliament imprisoned him in the Dust Plains,” he said. “But it was only a matter of time before he gained influence out there, with so many outlaws who crave chaos instead of
order.”

“What can we do?” Tori asked. “We can't stop Viviana's machine if we have to fight the Dominae
and
the Jackal to do it. We'd need an army!”

Tremelo turned back to the desk. The Fair would take place the following Saturday. Time was slipping away too quickly.

“Bailey's right about the Velyn. If the Jackal will be there, they might return and fight with us,” he said. “But they're far out in the Peaks. I don't know
how I'd get word to them.” He put his hand to his forehead, and tried to wish away the urge to retreat to his quarters, and into a pint of rootwort rum.

Tori sidled up to him.

“We couldn't get word to them by rigi or cable in time.” She looked up at him with a hopeful smile on her face. “But Bailey didn't just send you a message. He sent
you the perfect way to reach your army.”

THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY BROUGHT
a blanket of heavy clouds with its arrival, casting a pallid glow over the Gray City. Just north of the capital, the
Progress Fair bustled. Canvas tents lined the open field, each one housing a different tinkerer's inventions. At the far end of the space, the Scavage pitch had been cultivated with imported
plants and shrubs from the southernmost tip of the kingdom, transforming it into a lush terrain. And between the exhibition tents and the field was a raised stage, where Viviana would make her
speech to the crowds gathered in the stands that afternoon.

Citizens from all corners of Aldermere passed between vendors' tents, and in the corridors, children wearing paper crowns and collars made of garlands played tag with animals and munched
happily on roasted seeds and candied apples. Outside one giant pavilion, a sign invited patrons in to
SEE THE WONDERS OF THE FUTURE
, while a scale model of an updated
rigimotive engine looped on a track in and out of the tent's entrance.

Tremelo paced among the booths, studying each odd invention for any sign of Viviana's Reckoning machine, in case it was hidden in the crowd. But all he observed in the exhibition tents
were too many automated knife sharpeners and one complicated electro-current device that would make a bed.

At the end of the row of tents was the area where the Science Competition would take place. Students stood proudly behind several tables showcasing their work. Among them was Tori with the
Halcyon.

“Feeling confident, Miss Colubride?” Tremelo asked as he returned to the tables.

“Oh, yes, sir,” said Tori, smiling widely for the benefit of the students and teachers gathered around the display area. “I think I've definitely got a winner
here.”

As it had for several weeks, the Halcyon appeared to be an elaborate music box, with gramophone horns reaching up from a square encasement. The orb—the final piece—was safe in
Tremelo's coat pocket. He patted Tori on the shoulder and retreated behind the display area, where his motorbuggy was parked. He'd volunteered to chaperone some of the more delicate
student competition entries up to the Gray from Fairmount, which allowed him to bring along a trunk that could hold any number of useful weaponry. He'd also brought Bert, who was napping on
the passenger seat.

Tremelo's spot was barely visible from the central stage. Viviana would be addressing the crowd in an hour. Only an hour to find Bailey, locate the Reckoning machine, and counteract its
effects with their Halcyon.