by J. M. Page
“Sit,” Farita snapped, pointing at the kitchen chair.
“I can eat and work at the same time…”
“Sit,” Farita commanded, taking a second chair for herself. “We’re going to have a nice lunch and a pleasant chat.”
A chat? That left an uneasy feeling in Lina’s gut. What could Farita possibly want to talk to her about? She knew better than to argue though. Even the queen seemed to give Farita a wide berth and a healthy dose of respect, so she sat down and picked up a piece of bread, slathering it with jam.
The moment she took a bite, Lina’s eyes rolled back and she groaned. It was the best thing she’d ever tasted. Or maybe that was the hunger talking. She finished the piece of bread in three bites and reached for another without pause. Farita didn’t seem to mind.
“How are you finding things here?”
Lina couldn’t form words with her mouth full of bread and jam, so she just nodded.
“Any lingering ill effects of your trip?”
She shook her head.
“Good, good,” Farita said nodding. “I’m happy to hear it. You were in quite a state when the prince brought you to me. I’d never seen anything like it. You looked completely fine, no signs of trauma or injuries, no sickness at all, but every reading I took said you were near death. I’m not sure any of us were very hopeful for your prognosis.”
Lina swallowed, a sudden lump taking up all the space in her throat.
“Except for the prince of course,” Farita said brightly, laughing. “But no one can tell that boy to give up hope. You know, he heard a rumor when he was a young boy, that there was another village just like ours, but underground instead of in the trees. He spent a whole summer digging and wouldn’t let anyone tell him otherwise. Was convinced there was a whole ‘nother town down there full of kids eager to play with him. I think he’s always felt a little stifled by this place. He’s got such big dreams, you know.”
Lina frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Did Suriah send you here?”
Farita took a bite from an attractive finger sandwich and shook her head. “Why would you think that?”
“No reason,” Lina answered, her suspicions growing. Why did everyone seem so intent on playing matchmaker with her and Bain?
“Speaking of the princess, I heard you’ll be attending her birthday bash?”
“Word really does travel fast around here, huh?” Lina grumbled, wondering if she’d ever have another secret as long as she stayed here.
“Just the exciting ones,” Farita tittered, her eyes sparkling. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, dear, but you’re the talk of the town.”
Lina rolled her eyes and shoveled a whole finger sandwich into her mouth, trying to placate the ravenous appetite she’d awoken. “Just because I fell out of the sky—”
“That might have been it at first,” Farita interrupted, “but not anymore. You made quite the splash at the Delegate Ball. Not that anyone could ignore you in that dress, dancing with the prince.”
Lina’s cheeks warmed at the memory of being in Bain’s arms, feeling his breath tease through her hair as he whispered in her ear. She remembered his excitement that night when he showed her the caverns. The kiss they’d shared and then… After that, nothing was the same. The warmth faded, and Lina was left feeling empty and cold. She sighed.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t count on a repeat performance.”
“Nevertheless, you’ve made yourself the most loved person in Mabnoa with all the good deeds you’re doing.”
“That seems like an overstatement. I’m just fixing up some old junk and getting paid in cookies. It’s not like I have a lot else to do with my time here.”
Farita’s expression turned serious and she reached across the table to cover Lina’s hand with her own. “Don’t sell yourself short. You have a talent that’s been lost to our people. This ‘junk’ you’ve been fixing up are things integral to our lives that have been sitting around gathering dust while more and more of our old technology is lost to us. Believe it or not, but you’ve become the bridge between generations for us. You’ve repaired things that haven’t been used since we isolated ourselves and it’s made our way of life so much easier already.”
Lina ate the next finger sandwich more slowly, thoughtfully, considering everything Farita had said. She’d just been doing what she’d always done and didn’t think of it as anything special or important.
“We’re so lucky to have you here,” Farita said wistfully, glancing over to the heap of waiting repairs. “But don’t think that means I won’t check in to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” she added, wagging a finger at Lina’s face. “Some patients are so well-behaved,” she sighed. “They just lay in bed and take their medicine and don’t try to turn my hair gray—” Lina arched a brow and Farita scoffed. “Grayer,” she conceded.
Lina didn’t think she’d been all that bad as a patient. She only snuck out of bed once and they hadn’t gone far. Her chest swelled with the memory of seeing Mabnoa spread out before her for the first time, light from the moon sparkling on distant water, a floral breeze ruffling her hair…
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not a patient anymore, Farita.”
The older woman pursed her lips and ‘hmph’ed loudly.
“Says who? No one knows how to treat a case like yours. There could be lingering effects we don’t know about, symptoms that don’t show up or stay dormant for a long time. I’m not taking any risks with you and you should be more careful. If something happened to you while you’re outside of the village alone, who knows how long it would take to find you or help.”
Lina frowned and set down what was left of the third finger sandwich, her stomach finally appeased for the moment. “You know about that?” By all accounts, it seemed that Bain and Suriah thought it best that no one know about their trips to the caverns. Everyone agreed that the queen would be displeased if she happened upon that knowledge and no one wanted to disappoint the queen.
Farita sat back and folded her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. “Of course I do. You think I’m not good at keeping an eye on my patients? It was one thing when you’re off gallivanting with the royals, but by yourself is too dangerous.”
Lina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who else have you told?” She needed to work on damage control. Warn Suriah and—
“What do you take me for?” Farita snapped, offense igniting a flame behind her eyes. “I don’t discuss the details of my patients’ treatment with anyone.”
“I didn’t mean… I just—”
“And what you do is your own business, but if you make more work for me, I’m going to hold it against you.” Her voice had softened a bit, but still held that warning edge. Lina didn’t want to cross that. Farita seemed even more formidable than she’d first thought.
“I understand,” she said nodding.
“Good. I love those kids like they were my own, but they sure do cause an awful lot of trouble. I’d hate to see you mixed up in something like that.”
Lina shook her head. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not planning on going anywhere until I can get this mountain under control.”
They both turned to look and Lina shook her head. The mound seemed to be bigger every time she looked at it. Just as well though. She wanted the distraction.
“Except for the princess’s birthday?”
“Right. Of course.” She definitely hadn’t already forgotten it. “Except for the princess’s birthday.”
“Which is tomorrow,” Farita prompted.
“Yeah. Of course. I know when her birthday is, what do you take me for, Farita?” But it was clear in the way that Farita narrowed her eyes that she didn’t believe Lina’s story for a moment.
“Do you think you have room in your pile for one more thing before the party?” She sounded almost nervous asking, like she felt guilty about it but had nowhere else to turn.
Lina looked at the stack and shrugged. What wa
s one more thing? “For Surie?”
Farita nodded.
Lina mimicked the gesture. “Yeah, of course I can.”
Farita clapped her hands and beamed, reaching under the table for the bag she’d carried in on her shoulder. Lina had been so focused on the food that she hadn’t noticed it.
“This is a toy the princess used to love. She’s obviously too old for it now, but there’s sentimental value in it and it hasn’t worked in years.”
From the bag, Farita pulled out what looked to be a jewelry box. There was an intricate flower and bird carved into the top and the corners flared out, so it wasn’t quite square. The whole thing was lacquered to a mirror finish and Lina trailed her fingers along the smooth, gold-covered edges.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, flipping the latch over to ease the lid up. The hinges were silent, but there was some other noise inside the box, a ticking sound that didn’t seem quite right. When she opened the box fully, a little feathery bird popped up on a limb, its mouth open but no sound coming out. “A music box,” she finally said, frowning at the silent bird.
“Not so much anymore,” Farita frowned. “Do you think you could fix it? It’s so hard to find gifts for the princess that has everything, but I think she’d really like this.”
Lina nodded, turning the box over. Something rattled around inside. A broken part or something come loose maybe. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Music boxes weren’t all that complicated, even if she’d never seen one up close. “Yeah, I can fix it. As long as I get some of the credit. I don’t know what to get her either.”
Farita’s eyes sparkled from within and she let out a hearty laugh. “Of course! I thought you might appreciate that burden being lifted from your shoulders.”
Lina chuckled too. Truth was, she hadn’t really thought about a gift. She’d barely remembered the birthday party was happening and hadn’t made it far enough in her considerations to even remember she should bring a present. It wasn’t like she’d ever been to someone’s birthday party before. But now that she thought about it, she was relieved to not have to worry about the gift. Though if the ball were any indication, that wasn’t the only thing she was forgetting to be worried about.
“What is it?” Farita asked, concern wrinkling her forehead.
“I just remembered that I probably need a fancy outfit for this party. I’ve gotten some clothes as payment, but not really anything fit for a royal birthday.”
Farita reached across the table and patted her hand. “You just leave that to me. You work on the music box and I’ll arrange everything else. Sound good?” She pushed her chair back from the table and brushed her hands down the front of her skirt, ridding it of crumbs.
“Sounds better than good,” Lina said, a tight knot she didn’t know she had releasing in her chest. “You’re the best, Farita.”
“And don’t you forget it,” the older woman said with a finger wag. “Now get up and give me a hug.”
Lina hesitated for a moment. A hug? She could count the number of hugs she’d ever had on one hand — and they’d all happened since she arrived here. Sure, there had been times in the past when she wished for a hug and Mom did her best to comfort her, but there was only so much she could do without squishing her. Now, Lina wasn’t really sure how a hug worked, but Farita held her arms wide open and Lina did the only thing she could think to do: she stepped into them.
Immediately, Farita’s soft, warm embrace wrapped around her, pulling her close and Lina’s arms instinctively went around her middle, squeezing her back. It was an odd gesture if she thought about it too much, two people just squeezing each other, but it felt right. It felt warm and comforting, like sitting in front of a fire to ward off the chill outside.
Finally, Farita released her and Lina was sad for the hug to end, but she didn’t say anything.
“And I’m leaving that food. I expect you to eat it,” she said with another finger wag.
Lina laughed and nodded. “Of course.”
“Alright, honey,” Farita said with another quick squeeze, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t work yourself too hard.”
“I won’t,” Lina promised.
The moment Farita was gone, Lina set to work on the music box and within an hour or so, the bird was singing his merry little tune. It was an easy fix; one connector piece had fractured in a weak spot and fallen out of place, so she mended the piece and had to take the entire thing apart to put it back where it belonged. With all the tiny parts and pieces laid out in front of her, it seemed impossible that they could all fit back into that little space and work in harmony, but she studied how each gear fit together, how the little crank on the side moved everything, how the turning metal tube lifted each musical key to make the melody. It was amazing to see it all working harmoniously. That kind of thing never ceased to astonish Lina and it was one of the reasons she loved fixing things so much.
But with the music box done, it was time to turn her attention to the Mabnoan’s devices and she wrinkled her nose, her eyes drifting over to the other pile. The things from the cavern. The music box had given her an idea and she didn’t want to wait to test it out. Maybe she understood more about how the ships worked than she gave herself credit for.
Chapter Ten
In what seemed like an endless cycle doomed to repeat itself, Lina woke up at her desk with sunlight streaming through the window and a heavy hand knocking on the door. Her neck ached and drool pooled under her cheek where she’d been using a part as a pillow. Apparently, a part related to the air systems, since there was a vent with a grate that left lines across her face.
Lina groaned and twisted her head to the side, rolling her shoulders against the stiffness. She looked over her shoulder longingly, towards the bed. It was such a nice-looking bed, so soft and comfortable. It was a shame that it seemed she’d never actually use the darn thing.
The knock vibrated the door again and Lina pulled herself to her feet, yawning. “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin—whoa!” The moment she opened the door, she was nearly bowled over by a trio of people barging in, bringing with them a rack of clothes, another rack of accessories, and an armload of overstuffed bags.
“Oh, would you look at this mess,” one person said, looking around with a sneer. She had close-cropped hair that was a bright shade of orange and a tiny pointed face with an upturned nose.
“Got our work cut out for us,” said another. He was tall and thin, draped in a loose-fitting suit of eggplant fabric with a shiny bald head.
“I don’t know if we have enough time for this,” said a third. A small, plumper woman with a riot of black curls framing her face.
“Well, I’m not going to be the one to tell Farita that,” said orange-hair.
“We won’t have to tell her anything if we get to work,” said the bald man.
Lina cleared her throat, louder than necessary and all three turned to her. “Um… mind telling me what’s going on?”
The two women ignored her, setting to work clearing off her desk and dining table, picking up things with the tips of their fingers and glaring at them like everything was covered in foul-smelling slime. The bald man stepped forward, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Farita sent us to prepare you for the royal birthday party.”
Lina frowned. “That’s not until tonight. It’s barely morning.”
“And we’re going to need all the time we have,” snarked the curly-haired girl.
The bald man gave her a long-suffering look before turning back to Lina. “There is a lot of preparation to do and we should get started right away. I’m Terrance, that’s Emily and Greta,” he said, indicating curly hair and then orange hair.
“Okay, but I have other things to do— Please don’t touch that!” She raced across the room to snatch a cavern piece from Emily and set it down gingerly. “These things are very sensitive, you can’t just—” She jumped in front of Greta to stop her from tossing another thing across the room.
F
inally, Lina sighed. “How about I clean up and you… do something else?”
Greta huffed and rolled her eyes. “I guess I could unpack my supplies.”
“Great, do that,” Lina said, taking another part from her and putting it away carefully. If she didn’t keep an eye on them, they’d ruin all the work she did while up late last night.
Last night… She’d figured something out, but wouldn’t know if she was right or not until she had a chance to go back to the cavern and test it. There was enough scrap down there to rebuild the hull of a ship, and if she could piece everything together inside of it like she had with the music box then maybe… But she couldn’t worry about that until after the birthday party. Maybe if she was lucky it would be her going away party, too.
Emily and Greta started unpacking bags and bags of hair supplies, makeup, and shoes. So many shoes that Lina was sure there weren’t enough feet in all of Mabnoa to fill them. Meanwhile, she tidied up and did her best to shield her projects from their chaotic forces. She’d hardly finished clearing off the table when Terrance grabbed her by the wrist and shoved her behind a changing screen he’d set up, tossing dress after dress over the top.
“Start trying those on. We’ll need to make a selection and do all the alterations while you’re in hair and makeup.”
“I—” She started to ask if all of this was really necessary, but she already knew the answer. People in Mabnoa seemed to value all this pageantry and nonsense. For someone who’d never even had real clothes, it seemed very silly to Lina. But she knew that arguing was a fruitless endeavor and endured the hours of primping and poking and prodding at the hands of the trio.
By late afternoon, she didn’t recognize herself. When it had been time for the ball, she’d only been given a dress and the rest of her was no different than any other day, but this time…
This time she looked like a totally different person. Lina gently patted the smooth coils of hair, twisted and artfully arranged on top of her head. She didn’t know how they’d managed to get it to stay up there, or how they managed to make it look so shiny and perfect — like something out of a magazine — but they had.