Rebel Skyforce (Mad Tinker Chronicles) (21 page)

“Already are,” Rynn replied. “If the runes all went poof, we’d get dragged down like rocks by the
Sulfurous
.”

“Rusty, rotted hull...hardly seems worth the trouble toting it along now that your little aerodrome is finished. Maybe we can cut it loose.”

Rynn’s pencil stopped scratching at a section of vacuum tank that was destined to become a barracks. “Finished? Once you get us a world-ripper on board, I’ve got plans. We aren’t half
started
yet. The
Sulfurous
is going to become a hangar and pilots’ quarters.”

“The world-ripper’s actually what I came here to talk to you about.”

“When you didn’t stop by first thing this morning, I assumed yesterday was another washout on Tinker’s Island.”

Erefan shook his head. “I kept it as quiet as I could, so I didn’t get hopes up prematurely. I got a hole opened for about three seconds.”

Rynn stuck the pencil over her ear, freeing up both hands for her to applaud. “Looks like our work here is done. Victory is as good as ours—daily, in three-second bursts.”

“You can be a real prat sometimes. You know that? We added nearly three tons to the flywheel, and the overnight crew is watching as it spins up. I
was
going to ask if you wanted me to pick you off the
Darksmith
as a test, but maybe now—”

Rynn scrambled upright in her seat. “Shit, no! Shit! I’m sorry. Seriously, no, I’ll be the test rat.”

Erefan raised an eyebrow. “Life at sea so bad you can’t put up with another two days or so? You and Jamile still carrying on your little spat? What?”

Rynn sighed. It was time to pry open the engine casing and see how bad the damage was. “We all agreed not to bother you while the machine wasn’t running.”

“‘You all’ being who? And what aren’t you telling me?”

“Me, Jamile, Toller. We ... we lost the
Darksmith
.”

Erefan’s eyes shot wide and he took Rynn by the shoulder. “Eziel’s mercy! Are you hurt? Where are you?”

“We’re fine. Hungry, but fine. We fought off a pirate vessel, but took the worst of it. Lost our engines, took on water. It was only a few levitation runes that kept it from sinking. We swam ashore when we came near some worthless little hunk of rock in the mid-Katamic. Toller scuttled the ship so it couldn’t be salvaged.”

“You should have told me at once!”

“And what? Have you lose sleep over it? I don’t think you’d have gotten the machine running any quicker. You’re not known for giving half-arse efforts.”

“You said you took the worst of it. Does that mean the pirate vessel escaped?”

“Funny enough, no. That worthless, backstabbing, untrustworthy Veydran wizard I took aboard swam over to their ship and burned it down to the powder room.”

Erefan pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. “Sounds like two problems solved each other, then. Did you happen to notice what ship it was? There’s—well, me and a few have a pool running over the next one we sink.”

“It was the
Fair Trader
.”

“Well, bathe me under a sewage drain! We finally got the—”

“And Dan lived.”

“Well, at least Zayne and his boy are gone. That ought to throw a rat into their hen house.”

“Can’t be too sure of that one, either. Dan seems to think they survived. Zayne the Younger is a wizard, he said.”

“Bugger.”

“Well, it was five days past, and no sign of either of them. Still, we lost most of our food supply in the fight and the swim ashore. I’d be very much interested in getting a one-pace ride back to Tinker’s Island.”

Erefan nodded. “Of course. I’ll set about looking for the island first thing tomorrow.”

“Bosley should be able to give you a decent spot to start. I think he knows more or less where we washed up.”

Erefan nodded and stood to leave.

“And seriously? A flywheel? Could you just hang a plaque around your neck like some museum relic? I think you set spark back fifty years this past week. I’m runing that thing and showing you how to make a proper battery as soon as I get back.”

Erefan grunted a reply, the closest thing he usually gave to an admission of defeat.

When he had gone, she rearranged her papers and resumed her real sketchwork. She was oblivious to the landing of the evening’s final craft until the clatter and shouting of a near-fatal mishap startled her. But the plaza crew got things under control, and no one suffered worse than bruising and a good scare. Rynn continued to work until the light failed her, and then a bit longer by the stolen light from the dining hall, leaking through the door and windows.

As she hobbled back to her quarters, she savored the feel of the crutches in her hands. She’d be rid of them soon enough.

Chapter 17

“Spend a day with a quill in hand, and you will write. Spend a day with a sword in hand, and you will kill. Plan your day accordingly.” –Rashan Solaran

Gazing blankly over sundrenched waters, Madlin felt relieved to know that their rescue was imminent, because she suspected that Dan might be trying to decide who to eat first.

“Be real handy if you and yours could keep awake in both worlds,” Tanner said. He sat down beside Madlin on the patch of rock that had become her little fiefdom. Everyone had their spot and settled in. They had spread out over a wide swath of the island as they grew weary of one another’s company. “Shabby operation, top to bottom, you know.”

“My father’s been doing this since before you were born. I think he knows what he’s doing.”

Tanner stretched and reclined, sprawling out on his side facing her. “Like spit he does. He’s set up to steal science and build it here. Everything you folks talk about says so. He’s got workshops, mines, ore shipments, got himself a bunch of fancy ships.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And you’re stuck here, and he didn’t know where for days,” Tanner replied. “Can’t say as I like how that went down. Three parrots, no squawk. Makes me wonder who’s really in charge. You get on with your old man?”

“Piss off.”

“That’s a language I understand, little miss. Doesn’t change the question though. Am I walkin’ into a crossfire between two Errols?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I got nothing to do on this bleedin’ island
but
think. And when I overhear you sayin’ the Mad Tinker knows we’re here, like it’s an age-day surprise, well, that got me thinkin’ even more. What’s your angle? You looking to take over or something?”

“No!” Madlin said. She shoved Tanner and he thumped down onto his back. “My father tries to do everything himself. No man can manage that. We just didn’t want to worry him until we knew he had a way to get us out of here.”

“What’s there to do? He’s got other ships. If he’s smart—and everyone in this world seems to think he is—he should have his own agents on every ship. Nearest one could have been on the way here the first day we washed up. Gut me, he could have sent one the night after the battle and plucked us off the ship.”

“We’ve got a better way home,” said Madlin. Tanner pushed himself up to his elbows and gave her a puzzled look. “You Veydrans aren’t the only ones who can get things done with magic.”

“Mad Tinker’s a sorcerer?”

Madlin snorted. “Not a chance. Built a machine that works magic for him. It’ll pluck us from here straight to Tinker’s Island, soon as he’s ready to fire it up.”

Tanner’s face darkened. “Thanks. I’ll pass.” With a grunt he hauled himself to his feet.

“What? Wait!” Madlin scrambled to her feet after him. She wobbled with a moment’s vertigo as her empty stomach reminded her that she was out of steam. “You can’t just sit here. There’s no ship coming. This is the only way off the island.”

Tanner twisted around to look over his shoulder. Madlin expected him to say something, to argue, or at least to seek reassurance before agreeing to go. He
had
to agree. Instead, he smiled with one half of his mouth and kept walking.

“I’ve got to say, this is the most cumbersome contraption I’ve ever seen,” Juliana Hinterdale muttered as she walked around the world-ripper machine. She ran a hand along a copper wire thicker than her finger. It was one of thousands. If she were to trace them all she’d be at it for days.

Don’t touch it
, a voice in her head snapped. She rolled her eyes elaborately in the direction of the wire spiderweb in the giant frame. Her companion was as invisible as she was, though his eyesight was far better in the aether. She couldn’t see him at all.

What? It’s not like it can hurt me.
She replied in like fashion, speaking mind to mind.
Gutted thing isn’t even on.
She couldn’t convey the same sense of annoyance muttering so softly that the workers infesting the room couldn’t hear her.

That is not the point
, the voice of “Erund” replied. He answered to many names, some more his own than others. Erund has started as an alias she’d heaped on him unwillingly, but it had grown on him. Privately she mainly called him Brannis.

Fine.
She heaved a mental sigh, long and elaborate, lest any part of her ennui go overlooked or underappreciated.
No touching. No talking.

No interfering
.

Interfering is fun
, she replied.

That’s not what we’re here for.

It could be hours before they’re ready to try again
, she said.
Are you listening to them chatter? They haven’t a clue what this thing is doing.

I missed it yesterday because I wasn’t standing here waiting for them to start it. You don’t have to hang around if you don’t mind missing it again.

One of the workers walked right toward Juliana as she stood blabbering mentally. She stepped out of the way of a middle-aged and balding mechanic, sticking her tongue out at him as he passed. Unabashed childishness was the privilege of the invisible. She affected a sneeze.

“Yer health,” the worker mumbled over his shoulder. A second later, he glanced around to see who was there, then shook his head and went back to his work. It seemed to involve looking at a page of rune-like drawings and comparing them to the bird’s nest of wires.

Cut that out
, Brannis’s voice chided her.
And pay attention, they’re about to try again.

Cadmus savored the unfamiliar thrum in the floor. Despite near-perfect balance, the flywheel was still spinning with enough force to make the whole factory shake. Eight spokes ran from the central hub to the heavy mass concentrated around the rim. All anyone could see of the spokes as it spun was a shimmering translucent surface, blurred together to allow a hazy view to the other side of the workshop where the great shaft ran from the waterfall outside to the gearworks within.

“Helmets and goggles, everyone!” Cadmus shouted over the din of workers and machinery. Rules were for others. Safety was for employees. If the machine exploded, it would be his fault, and his conscience demanded he look after the ones who trusted him. He hunkered down behind a wall of mathematics and science, relying on experience in place of failsafes.

“Enderburt, release the clutch on your side!” Cadmus ordered. Enderburt nodded in acknowledgement and pulled on the lever that disengaged the flywheel from the waterwheel shaft. One of the downsides of the new arrangement was that the dynamo could no longer be run directly from the shaft. It was flywheel or nothing. Even with the new flywheel it would be a hasty retrieval, with the clock ticking from the moment Cadmus’s clutch engaged.

“If anyone would like to take a moment to pray, you should have started before now,” said Cadmus as he gripped the lever. With no further warning, he pulled and the second clutch engaged, locking the flywheel to the drive shaft of the dynamo. With a shriek of scraping metal, the clutch caught hold and the dynamo flared to life. The control panel of the world-ripper lit at once, and the viewfinder shimmered into focus on a prearranged set of coordinates somewhere in the mid-Katamic.

A cheer rose from the gathered workers. Their task was done for now. They cleared a path for the kitchen staff to wheel in buffet carts for the refreshment of the incoming refugees. The operation ran like clockwork, which was how Cadmus preferred everything to run. Spark was still new to him, and runes a mystery, but good clockwork did exactly what was expected of it.

Cadmus hustled over and slipped into a chair at the controls. There was no sign of the island chain Toller had given as their present location, but it was only a matter of time. The man was operating from sea current charts and gazing up at the stars with the naked eye. A healthy allowance for error was expected. He spun the dial to rotate the view around a full turn, just to make sure the islands weren’t standing right behind him. When he was sure they were not, he sent the viewing window roaming the sky over the Katamic Sea.

“Where are they?” he muttered beneath his breath. He finished one pass and swung the view around.

“Wait!” a voice shouted. “Go back the other way. I think I saw something.”

Young eyes
. Cadmus twisted the dials in reverse and backtracked his latest movements.

“Stop! On the horizon!”

Praise Eziel.
Cadmus headed the view off in the direction of a distant speck barely visible at the line where sky met water. The speck grew as the view approached, until it looked like a chain of rocky islands.

The largest of the islands looked newly inhabited. Its natives were a mopey, morose bunch, prone to sitting about avoiding one another’s company for long stretches and spreading themselves out an inconvenient distance apart for rescue. Cadmus swooped around until he saw who he was truly looking for and settled the view a few paces from her.

Cadmus uttered a silent prayer, hoping that the god of war had some stray fondness for misbehaving machinery. He threw the switch.

The dynamo crackled, but gave up the spark the machine needed. The view became a hole in the world, letting a warm sea breeze waft into the workshop.

“Madlin!” Cadmus shouted. “Come through! Quickly!”

Madlin scrambled to her feet. “Everyone move!” she shouted. “This is our ride home!” She led by example, and was the first through the hole.

Cadmus sprang from his seat and rushed to greet her. He tried to crush her in his arms, but she disentangled herself after the briefest of embraces.

“Madlin, I was so worried when I heard—”

She took him by the shoulders and steered him out of her way as she pushed past. “Are those turkey legs I see?” Madlin headed straight for the food carts. There was a turkey leg in one hand and a stein of ale in the other before Cadmus caught up with her.

In Madlin’s wake, the Tinker’s Island welcome crew helped the rest of the
Darksmith’s
crew get through the hole. Jamile and Toller had made it through, and the rest of the crew was trickling in from their scattered spots all over the island. Dan stopped in the middle of the archway, looking straight up with an idiot grin on his face.

“
This
is a pretty good trick,” said Dan, not budging as other refugees stepped around him.

“Ghet ouffa vere,” Madlin shouted through a mouthful of turkey. She swallowed. “Could lose the connection any second, and my guess is it would cut you in half. Besides, there’s food over here.” She waved her half-eaten turkey leg in the air as bait. That caught Dan’s attention.