Tinker's Justice (16 page)

“That’s where you boys and girls come in. You are the hands of Eziel, holding both sword and shield. Most of our activities have weighed heavily to the sword hand, and I admit to being partial to the bladed solutions myself. But we must not reject Eziel’s protection, and we must not fail to pass that protection to those who require it. You will be sent in squads of five, stationed at Acardian farms in a rotation that your squad leaders will go over with you prior to departure. Your job will be to keep out of sight, keep vigilant watch, and be ready to counter a world-ripper invasion at your designated farm, should there be one during your watch.”

I picked the wrong day to be a hero
. The prospect of days outdoors in a backwater world like Tellurak was enough to make Kupe wish he had a drink in his hand. He was a deeper to the core. There was no malice in him toward humans who preferred living in the skies, but he had no desire to join them.

While Davlin’s speech wandered into details, Kupe’s attention drifted off. It wasn’t like he was in the front few rows. Kupe was all the way in the back, where Davlin’s view of him was blocked by a bunch of fresh-faced soldiers, all hanging on everything the old priest said. With a subtle turn of his head, Kupe tried to get a better look at a few of the women in the new division. It was coats and trousers for everyone, but even with the uniforms, a practiced eye like Kupe’s knew how to imagine the hidden details.

What’s Charsi doing here?
It was her. He knew it. She was at the far side of the crowd, one row ahead. Kupe had ogled her often enough that no pair of trousers was going to disguise her. She’d cut her hair short, showing off the milky skin at the back of her neck. He had barely seen her since coming aboard the
Jennai
. It wasn’t until he had put two and two together that he realized that if Davlin was aboard, most of his followers would be as well. But Kupe had been living inside the moon most of the time since then. He hadn’t seen her or talked to her since the flashpop. Why had she done it? He needed an answer, and not some slick-talk from Davlin about everyone having a job and doing it.

Kupe’s musings were cut short when he heard the familiar litany and joined in midway. “Lord Eziel, grant us vengeance upon our enemies. Let us share our strength as comrades and become fearsome to our foes. I am your servant; teach me to kill in your name.”

Bloody Eziel. Grant me an hour alone with that girl, and I’ll kill all the kuduks you want.

Chapter 12

“Most large animals are edible, given proper processing. Refer to diagrams 7a. through 7h. for generalized diagrams of the edible portions of various classes of animal.” – Traveler’s Companion: Hunting and Farming

K’k’rt had been in larger caverns before. The underground complex below the human city of Raynesdark made this one seem miniscule in comparison. He had stood beneath the night sky and stared into the heavens, with stars so far above that the mind could not fathom. But nowhere else did he feel so small as a creature than standing beneath the looming gaze of Fr’n’ta’gur.

The summons had been perfunctory, which told him that the dragon was in a peckish mood. That was never a good sign. The priest who was sent to fetch him had been miserly with details, only willing or able to tell him that Fr’n’ta’gur had a problem that only K’k’rt could fix. That meant that K’k’rt had a problem. And thus he found himself before the mightiest creature he had ever met, wondering what he was going to be asked for.

“K’k’rt,” the dragon boomed. “Were you aware of any problems with the human city prior to our invasion?”

K’k’rt chuckled halfheartedly.
Oh, that’s not a good sign.
“Your Excellency, there were many deficiencies noted in the initial reports. Aside from the obvious infestation of humans, we were aware that the upper mines were in fact devoid of useful minerals, and that while the lower mines produced occasional diamonds, they were primarily a source of common ores. There were concerns about the stability of the repair work on the glacier wall, but those have since been allayed. Your Magnificence, I know of no other deficiencies that would warrant your notice.”

“Indeed?” Fr’n’ta’gur said. He craned his neck to peer straight down at K’k’rt, who could imagine his own demise in vivid detail. “Then why have I received word that there is a geological issue that threatens the city’s very existence?”

K’k’rt was dead. He knew it. Better to have taken his chances killing the priest who came to get him and running as fast as his old legs could carry him, rather than answer the summons of a peckish dragon. He couldn’t even chuckle over his predicament. “That region has been stable during all recorded history, Great Fr’n’ta’gur. Perhaps this is a trick by the humans.”

“This is no trick,” Fr’n’ta’gur replied. “Goblins who have served me longer than you have confirmed that there is a volcanic pressure rising beneath the mountain.”

“I am sure I had no idea—”

“I want a solution,” the dragon said. “No excuses. Use the human girl, and have her create a solution. Her world must have seen this same problem. She will have an answer.”

“Of course, Great and Merciful Fr’n’ta’gur. I will see to it at once.” K’k’rt was bowing and backing away even before he finished speaking.

Rynn sat at a round table, crowded with ale tankards, coins, and cards. Heavy curtains blocked the windows, and a single spark bulb above the center of the table provided the only light. To either side, Rynn’s top officers guarded their hands as they jested and cajoled one another. It was the General’s Game, which had become a weekly ritual to keep relations among the rebellion’s leadership friendly. It had been Vaulk’s idea. He was the one who had pointed out the rivalry between Rascal and Davlin—Rynn hadn’t even noticed. It wasn’t that Rynn disliked Crackle, but it always felt as if they were betraying the trust placed in them by the rebels when they all idled at once.

“I fold,” she said, throwing her cards to the middle of the table. Her tankard was a better companion than her cards had been.

“Me too,” said Sosha. She gently deposited her cards atop Rynn’s. It was lucky for Sosha that money was all but useless aboard the
Jennai
, otherwise she would have been mired in lifelong debt from her weekly losses.

“I’ll take your coin,” Rascal said, pushing a stack of coins forward to match Davlin’s bet.

Vaulk, Hayfield, and Pick folded in turn. Despite his lack of rank, Rynn couldn’t turn Pick away from a card game.

Before the next card was dealt to the middle, there was a knock at the door. At first, Rynn thought she might have misheard, but a second knock removed all doubt, louder and more determined than the first.

“Come on in,” Rynn said. “But if you’re not here to play, something better be on fire.” Her fellow players laughed.

The door opened a crack. “General Rynn,” Kaia said, peeking in. “Something’s on fire.”

Rynn pushed herself to her feet. It was still the most awkward motion for her tinker’s legs to manage. “Deal me out for a few hands. I’ll be back.”

Rynn followed Kaia down a hall and into an empty side room. Her curiosity grew as she wondered what Kaia wouldn’t say in front of the officers.

“I’ve got a dilemma,” Kaia said.

“Doesn’t sound like any sort of fire I’ve ever heard of,” Rynn replied.

Kaia furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “You weren’t being literal and you know it. This is a real problem. And for all I know it might cause a fire, depending what we do?”

“We? I thought you had the dilemma.”

“Well, it involves your father.

Rynn winced. “What has he done now?”

“Nothing ... yet,” said Kaia. “You see, he didn’t want to get dragged into another six-hour conversation with Mr. Harwick, so he made himself scarce and sent me to pick up the translation work he’s finished so far.”

“Sounds reasonable,” said Rynn. “That man could talk the paint off the walls.”

“Well, you see, he finished two of the books. One’s the world-ripper book. I brought that one back with me. The other’s a book that tells how to make a distress beacon. That’s a thing that calls for help for you.”

“Yeah, I know what it means.”

“Well,” said Kaia. “The book doesn’t tell you who it calls, or what kind of help they might send. Mr. Harwick was worried that your father might just build one to find out, and that maybe that wasn’t the best idea.”

“Sounds like something he’d do. After all, he wasn’t sure what the world-ripper would do when he first built it. And don’t let him tell you otherwise, either. He had guesses, and probably not as good a guess as what a distress beacon would do.”

“So … did I do the right thing?”

“That depends. Just what
did
you do?” Rynn asked.

Kaia looked all around, then leaned close. “Mr. Harwick still has it. He says he’ll save it for last if he has to, but he can’t stall your father forever.”

“Thanks, Kaia. Don’t worry about this. Just get back to the backup base and pretend nothing happened.”

Kaia let out a long breath. “Thanks, Rynn. You’re my hero.”

“Just get going before anyone notices you’re gone. Did you leave the world-hole open, or is someone waiting at the console?”

“Jamile. Just give her a nod when you get back to your game.”

“Will do,” Rynn replied. She watched Kaia sneak out into the hallway and shook her head.
At least someone around here can wrap her head around twinborn.

Madlin was having lunch when K’k’rt arrived. Though the hour on her pocketclock mattered little, her days had developed a rhythm. Wake up. Breakfast. Lunch. Guard change. Dinner. Guard change. Bedtime. Overnight guard change. No one came to clean, and they didn’t let her out for bathing or her unmentionable business. Everything happened in the little suite of hers or not at all—and she’d be gutted and boiled before she cleaned her own prison cell. Breaks in the routine were always interesting, if not always welcome.

“What do you want?” she snapped. Even though K’k’rt had his change of heart, he had still provoked her into getting jolted by the guards. Plus, the guards didn’t need to know she’d mostly forgiven him.

“I bring good news,” said K’k’rt with a weak smile. “Fr’n’ta’gur needs you.”

Madlin dropped her pencil to the floor and hopped to her feet, startling her guards, but not enough so that they used the jolt on her. “Well then, let’s just run right down there and see what the fat lizard wants. Can’t keep an ancient as rusted mountains dragon waiting, or it might finally keel over from age while it waits.”

K’k’rt eyed the guards. There was no chuckle, which made Madlin worry. “He does not need to
see
you,” K’k’rt clarified. “He needs you. This is good news. Your recent inventions have not, shall we say, amused him.”

“Pardon me for bringing your tinkers into the Steam Age,” Madlin replied. “It’s hard to build modern equipment when you’re practically whittling everything by hand. I’ll draw up plans for a thunderail if you want, but without proper tools, good luck building one that isn’t a rolling death trap.”

“He needs something very particular this time, and I hope it will be an easy task for you,” said K’k’rt.

“I don’t like the sound of easy. Sounds suspiciously like anything
but
easy.”

“There is a volcano at the heart of the mountain against which Raynesdark rests,” K’k’rt said. “It is at risk of a rather spectacular eruption, according to the reports I’ve brought you.”

“What do I know about volcanoes?”

“Presumably, how your own people stopped this same problem in Korr.”

Madlin swallowed.
Worlds are the same. Makes sense
. “Oh, is that all?”

“Is there a problem?” K’k’rt asked, glancing at the guards.

Madlin forced a smile. “None at all. Give me about three days, and I’ll have it worked out for you to start work.”

“Excellent,” K’k’rt replied, nodding to himself as he deposited a stack of documents on Madlin’s desk. “That should be everything you need, I hope.”

“I’ll let you know if I need anything else,” Madlin replied.
Three days to prepare to get myself out of this infected wound of a mountain.

Cannon fire thundered, shaking the deck of the
False Profit
. Jadon Zayne did not flinch or wince, though he may have twitched just enough to keep his balance. The fog that surrounded them deadened the noise, not so much to muffle it as to snuff it out before it could echo. Their target was a ship they could only see by the fires burning along its sails.
He relies on me for everything now. I wonder if he even remembers how to pirate without magic to help.
It was a dilemma that cropped up in his mind often, and had preoccupied him for much of the morning. How much longer could he abide his father’s behavior for the sake of the aid he gave the Megrenn Alliance?