The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Box Set

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The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Box Set Page 19

by Kara Jorgensen


  “Nature always provides us with what we need. We don’t use it for illumination because we have our moss lamps, but it powers a few of our important machines. Now, close your eyes and recite something in English within your mind.”

  As Eilian shut his eyes and recalled all that he wanted to tell Hadley about the city’s hidden secrets, Neuk positioned the point of the crystal an inch above the young man’s ear and gave the conveyer’s lever a tap with his foot. The electricity raced up the copper wires and through the crystal until it leapt from the tip and was drawn toward his neurons. For an instant, it was as if all the words he thought were gibberish, but as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared. The scholar prompted him to continue, but this time, he pictured himself talking to Hadley after his surgery. The crystal was repositioned near his temple. When the spark penetrated the layers of matter beneath his skull, Eilian could no longer get the words out. With a wave of relief, the familiar phrases came flooding back as he was commanded to sit up. He ran his fingers through his wayward hair, combing away the static, as Neuk handed him the crystal, which now contained delicate dendritic vines at its base.

  His eyes traced each line back to its origin. “This is incredible. Do you use these crystals for anything besides storing knowledge?”

  “Yes,” Neuk replied as he stopped dismantling the armature, “a lot of people, when they become elderly, leave messages behind for their families. They also turn the crystals into jewelry, so they can keep their loved ones with them always.”

  Eilian sat with his hands in his lap, staring at the ceiling as a smile crept across his face. “Would it be possible for me to make one of those?”

  Even through the darkness, his brilliantly white teeth flashed in a wide grin beneath his beaded beard. “I would be honored to assist you.”

  ***

  Hadley smiled to herself as the figures on her page finally seemed to come to life. Without her pastels, the drawings looked like so many other pastoral sketches, but once the forms and landscape were bathed in the cool, blue glow, they transformed into ethereal, otherworldly creatures living in a realm so unlike her own. Billawra was nothing like England, yet she was happier there than she had ever been in London or the Negev. She closed her eyes contently as the steam-warmed water lapped against her bare feet. The crunch of boot-soles on the sandy banks swished through the cavern behind her, but she kept her eyes shut and allowed him to think she didn’t hear his stealthy approach. Suddenly there was a handsome chin on her shoulder and soft, umber hair tickling her cheek. Eilian grinned as he stared down at her work. He was impressed by how she so wholly captured the spirit of the Billawrati but was mildly envious as she had yet to draw his likeness.

  “How did it go?” she asked between breaths as she blew the excess powder from her paper.

  “It was easier than I expected. Did you know they have the ability to create electricity from running water?”

  The craftswoman laughed softly. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.” She glanced up into his grey eyes before putting her sketchbook to the side and clasping the hand that lightly encircled her waist, smearing blue pigment across his skin. “I found something I think you should see.”

  Hadley silently led him across the damp sand to a slivered opening in the rock, barely wide enough to admit an adult’s form, and climbed inside. After a few strides, the narrow hall expanded into a grand staircase inlaid with tiny tiles of polished jade and mercury glass. As they ascended, the thundering cacophony of running water grew louder as the jade tiles dissolved into mirrors. A stifled gasp escaped her companion’s lips as he stepped toward the waterfall that cascaded over the ledge at the end of the stairs, polishing the rock for all eternity. The waterfall was the same river that snaked through the entire city not only powering mechanisms and machines but nourishing life great and small before terminating in the epitome of majesty. His surprised expression reflected back from all angles

  “It’s beautiful,” he muttered in awe.

  “Uta showed it to me yesterday. She said it helps to oxygenate the fish pool and stir the water enough to keep them healthy. Did you know she was not sure if she wanted to become an artist or a fish-keeper when she was younger? Now, she just makes fish the subject of her artwork.”

  “You have been spending a lot of time with her.”

  Hadley sighed contently as she and Eilian settled into the corner of the ledge with the heels of their feet dangling off the edge of the cliff-face. From their vantage point on the apex’s mantle, they could see the whole of Billawra as it spiraled away from them up toward the surface. People passed above them on their way to work or on an errand, completely unaware of the reverence they imparted on her life by simply existing. Eilian’s shoulder gently pressed against her spine as she leaned back and drew out her notebook from her jacket’s breast pocket, lovingly running her thumb over its leather cover.

  “Despite her brusque exterior, she has been exceedingly helpful these past two weeks. I know I couldn’t have gathered nearly as much information without her acting as my liaison.” She smiled at the journal. “I find it strange how when Adam gave me this book, I thought it would be filled with mundane things, like what we ate or what we excavated, but now, it’s filled with information that has completely changed my understanding of life.

  “I never understood why someone would want to be or even enjoy being a farmer. Now, as I talk to these people who have motives with no influence from wealth or poverty, I see it all in a new light. I never thought the smell of an orchard or following the generations of the same plant could be satisfying or even beautiful. They choose their professions because they are fascinated by them no matter how much they learn or how long they toil to achieve their goals. It seems pride in their work and in themselves is what keeps them going no matter how hard it is, and it ultimately leads them to a happiness that few back home will ever come to know. No one I have talked to regrets their choice, and if they found it wasn’t what they expected, they always have the option to change their minds.”

  “You’re right. Their lives aren’t set in stone. They don’t need to spend years trying to elevate themselves or scrub away a stained reputation.” Eilian’s smoky eyes darkened. “I envy that they always have hope that things will get better. I wish we could stay here forever. If we did, you could make as many automatons as you could ever want to create and I could do research on ancient inventors and write all the books I always intended to publish. We could finally be happy.”

  “What about poor Patrick? He would be worried sick if you suddenly disappeared, and he would be left destitute without a reference and would never be able to get another job. It would be selfish to stay. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to leave Adam behind all alone either. There is too much back in London for us to disappear simply to make ourselves happy. Maybe it would be too hard for us to change our ways so wholly. We will always think in terms of money and commerce.” Seeing the sadness creeping back into his strong features, she lightly stroked his cheek and made him meet her gaze. “Eilian, when I look out past the waterfall, I don’t feel regret or disappointment about what I will find when we come home. I’m hopeful for the future. Hopeful that one day people in England and all over the world will be able to see the value in each other rather than in things or status.”

  Lord Sorrell wrapped his arms around her waist. “Then, let us be an example for those in London.”

  Hadley allowed herself to be drawn closer until she was sitting on his lap. She put her journal to the side as his heather eyes pulled every fiber of her being toward him. Under the waterfall’s dewy spray, Eilian’s flesh burned through her dandy’s clothing as their bodies touched for the first time. Their breathing slowed as their lips met and their eyes dilated behind hooded lids. Chills swept over her body as his fingers roved up her neck and into her hair. The scintillating skimming of his hands brought Hadley’s lips back to his as he surfaced for one tremulous gulp of air.

  His body gave into her
fervent kisses as he leaned back against the damp wall. Shuddering at her touch, Eilian pressed his drumming heart to hers as her blue stained fingers cupped his face. Her artful fingers traced the curling scars of his neck until they came to rest on the marmoreal outcroppings of his collar bones. Their bodies breathed in rhythm, feeding off the other’s soul until Hadley’s lungs contracted in protest. Drawing back, she laid her cheek against his forehead. She sat back against his knees and smiled when she noticed the streaks and curls of blue pastel littering his cheeks. With the edge of her sleeve, she wiped away the evidence of their affection until they were nothing more than Lord Sorrell and Henry Fox, but as she reached his neck, Eilian wrapped his arms around her and embraced her once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Six:

  The Enigma of Adam

  “I hate Sir Joshua and Mr. Barrister more than they could possibly fathom,” Hadley Fenice spat as she slapped the dyed silk out of the green water and onto the damp, stone floor.

  “Easy, easy! Don’t take it out on the fabric. It’s for Kae’s new costume!” Uta pulled it from the Englishwoman’s hands and gingerly wrung it out before inspecting the fabric for tears. “You know I don’t like them either, but what did they do to rile you up?”

  She grunted querulously and took to scraping the green dye off the palms of her hands. “They have been absolutely horrid to Eilian since he told them Neuk did not want them to come here anymore, but this week they have been simply intolerable. Being rude to me is one thing because I don’t particularly like either of them, but Eilian still thinks of Sir Joshua as his friend even though the man treats him like utter rubbish.”

  “What are they doing to him?” she asked as she submerged the swath of fabric back into the dye, accidentally dunking one of her thick braids in the process.

  “Every time we are about to leave camp, Joshua starts making fun of your culture, calling the Billawrati all sorts of names and just making a fuss because he knows it upsets Eilian, but when we get back, it is even worse. At night, Eilian would spend time with the men who work for Sir Joshua, but now, he has forbidden them from speaking to us by threatening to fire them if they disobey. They are all so afraid that they ignore us like we are dead, but I can see it in their faces that they don’t want to treat Eilian so poorly.”

  Uta pulled the long lock of hair from the bowl, frowning at its lime tint. “Why make fun of us? I can’t imagine what that would accomplish.”

  “It makes Eilian upset because he appreciates your way of life. What really makes me angry is what happened last night. When we got back, the men had been sent to their tent for the night while Joshua and Edmund were still sitting at the campfire. Eilian had not done anything except say good-night to them, and Joshua suddenly started to tear into him. He called him useless, an invalid, and told him that if his father was not rich, he never would have let him work with him even before he lost his arm. I don’t understand how they can be so cruel. Getting thrown out of Billawra was their fault anyway, not Eilian’s or my doing.”

  Hadley stood beside the six foot tall woman as she helped her wring out the excess dye and hang the cloth from a hemp clothesline to dry, waiting for the reply she knew would never come. It was one of the things she found refreshing about Uta. She didn’t reply with empty platitudes, and Hadley preferred silence to the expected phrases. Uta ambled over to the pile of notes on her stone workbench and inspected her sketches again, looking from picture to fabric to confirm that the dye left behind the perfect shade of pigment. Once she was satisfied with her work, she retrieved a pouch of multicolored clay beads painted in the seven vibrant hues of the rainbow and a spool of silk string. The valkyrian woman handed Hadley a fishbone needle and a length of twine before somewhat patiently teaching Hadley how to create a miniature flower. The craftswoman mimicked her instructor’s motions but ended up with only an ugly bead-covered knot.

  She laughed for the first time that day, her minor failure finally breaking her foul mood. “I have never been good at the needle arts.”

  “I can see that,” Uta chuckled. “So what did Eilian do?”

  “Do?”

  The artist laid her fourth tiny wild flower to the side as Hadley finished her first. “You know, how did he react to what Joshua said? Did he yell or strike him?”

  A crestfallen sigh escaped her lips. “That’s the saddest part. Eilian just stood there silently and took it. He didn’t even say anything in his defense. He just let Joshua degrade him until he ran out of things to say. I have been trying to figure out why he never fights back, but I think he is still insecure about his missing arm and believes him. When I first met him, he told me he worried how others perceived him or if he would be able be normal again.”

  Hadley’s voice cracked against her will as she continued, “Last night, Eilian came into the tent breathing very stiffly. I thought he was finally going to retaliate, but it turned out his arm was hurting worse than ever. The pain only seems to come when he is really upset, and it took over two hours of rubbing and talking to get the pain to abate enough for him to sleep. Eilian is the last person who deserves to be treated that way, especially by lowlifes like them.”

  When Uta finally looked up from her work, she was startled to find the Englishwoman wiping her reddening eyes with the heel of her hand. She averted her gaze and tried to listen to the crystalline aria that rang through the still air in the distance, but all she could hear was Hadley’s sniffling and shuffling as she dislodged her handkerchief from inside her tailored jacket. Uta hesitated, unsure if she should comfort her since Kae was the only person she had ever actually touched. Finally, she stiffly patted the other woman’s shoulder and went back to crafting her beaded flowers.

  “Why is what’s-his-name being so rude all of a sudden?” Uta asked, changing the subject in hopes of keeping her companion’s tears from getting out of hand. “He wasn’t as bad as Barrister when they were at the banquet.”

  Hadley shrugged. “I guess Sir Joshua is feeling insecure too. After nearly a year in the desert, he still hasn’t found anything noteworthy. Maybe he thought discovering where Billawra was would be the break he has been looking for, but now that he has been barred from coming here, that dream has fallen apart. Since we are still welcome, he’s taking his anger out on us.”

  “He’s taking it out on you as well?”

  “No, not as much,” she stammered, tidying her hair and dabbing at her eyes. “Mr. Barrister has made me his object of derision. He likes to call me things like ‘dandy’ or ‘popinjay,’ but it doesn’t really bother me.”

  “I don’t know what those words mean.”

  Hadley thought for a moment, searching for the right explanation. “It’s like calling someone a feminine man.”

  Uta’s body rocked with laughter as she pulled down a dried piece of silk and draped it over a wire model of Kae’s form. “You had better work on that silly voice you use before he figures you out.”

  “It’s not exactly like that. He’s trying to insinuate that I am a man who loves other men.” When Uta’s mint-green eyes showed no flicker of significance, she added, “He’s being derogatory. In England, liking your own sex is a bad thing. You aren’t allowed to do that, and you could be severely punished for it.”

  She raised a white brow. “How?”

  “Well, you probably would not get in trouble because you are a woman, but in the past, men have been executed for sodomy… even if it’s mutual.”

  Uta shook her head as she pinned the cloth into the shape of a tunic. “Your country sounds horribly intolerant. From what you say, there are rules for even the pettiest things and punishments for things that harm no one. I understand rules for safety or learning or trade and animals because those things impact the whole society, but why make rules about what you wear, what your house has in it, or who you love? Those things are your business, and if what you are doing isn’t hurting anyone else, then why should the government have anything to say about how you live your life?”


  “I don’t agree with the way they do things and don’t like it, but I can’t do anything about it,” she replied half-heartedly as Uta motioned for her to hand her the deformed flowers she made while they were speaking.

  “You can do something about it. You can be yourself. Why don’t you not wear your corset and instead wear your trousers? That would be a start, and maybe others would follow your example.”

  Hadley sighed as the artist began to create a meadow of wild flowers on the hem of her wife’s costume. “It doesn’t work that way, Uta. If I did that, they would call me all sorts of rude names behind my back and ostracize me. I can bear their criticism by myself, but I won’t let gossipmongers ruin Eilian or my brother’s reputations as well. It isn’t worth doing if my actions hurt them.”

  With a grunt, Uta gave up and turned her full attention to stitching the side seams of the chemise with silk thread. Hadley’s mind wandered as she stared off into space, listening to the faint zip of the needle passing through the fabric with each stitch. She closed her eyes as the song from the amphitheater below grew louder. The complimentary voices of a contralto and a tenor intermingled, blurring genders and stories as their words collided. The tenor sung about following his instincts and dancing from his soul, but the song soon turned to his fear of never performing as well as those who formally trained. In reply, his companion lamented her years of researching dances, knowing them all by heart and song but never taking a step herself. The contralto’s sweet, melancholy aria reminded her of Eilian, who, even as she mused, was up in the library researching ancient engineering. Ever since the men had taken to treating them poorly, he had shut himself away in an unused nook from the time they arrived until sunset.

  Picturing Eilian buried up to his elbows in books made her wonder what Adam was doing. When she and Eilian were together laughing and smiling, her life back home seemed to melt away, but as the emotions swirled and cracked through her façade, she began to worry about him. She checked off her usual clients and the items they purchased each month in her mind for the hundredth time and hoped she had left enough stock for him to fill everyone’s orders. The profits along with his paycheck should have been enough to live on even if he was unable to fill more specific orders, but she still worried it wasn’t enough. What continually gnawed at her was the image of him sitting at home all by himself for months. Hadley pretended to study Uta’s sketches as she ruminated on her brother’s character.

 

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