“But I don’t want that!” I said. “I came here to find a way to fight the Vangars and all I’ve found is a trap. I don’t want any of this. I just want to leave!”
“Haven’t I made it clear to you yet that this will never happen? I have made a way for you, Breeze. I have given you a chance to live, a chance to bide your time. Perhaps you may see your family again someday, but for now you must forget them. You will do Robie no good getting yourself killed for him.”
I turned away, staring at the floor. “Robie is dead,” I said. I climbed the stairs to my room, and closed the door behind me. Tam stood in the kitchen contemplating that for some time before I heard him return to his room.
8
The next day, I did everything Tam had told me I would, and I hated every minute of it. I didn’t understand at the time why it was necessary, or what it could possibly accomplish. I’d never had any love of politics and I certainly didn’t imagine it was a way to take control of my own destiny, but ultimately that was just what happened. By silencing the loudest opposition, Tam had created a vacuum for me to fill.
There were still those who didn’t trust me and never would, who felt that I should never inherit the throne and had no right to be among them, but that was no longer a position of strength. Those who felt that way kept their feelings to themselves, or spoke of them at their own peril. It was known now that my enemies died, and few had the fortitude to brave that peril.
At the same time, with Tam’s guidance I found a way back into my grandmother’s graces. This was something she couldn’t have done on her own for fear of the political backlash. With a divided populace, the queen had no choice but to balance her decisions on the edge of a knife. She had to compromise on all things, to find a way to accommodate everyone. This left no room for her to live the life she chose. Her life was given to others.
When Tam and I walked into the council meeting, the room fell to a hush. Tam stood watching as I strode past the council members and the other representatives to take Lydian’s empty chair next to the queen. Before I sat, I met the eyes of every person in that room. Every one of them looked away. Even the queen.
I feared at first that this was some sort of rejection, but Tam later explained that she was merely submitting to my political dominance. From that moment on it was clear to everyone in that room that I was now the queen’s most trusted advisor, and that she had better take my advice seriously.
That was nonsense, of course. The queen’s law was still law and if I had tried to defy her, the populace would have risen up against me. In a way, I had found my own knife’s edge to walk. It wasn’t a comfortable place for me, but I learned to survive that way. I also came to know my grandmother in a way that never would have been possible otherwise. At times, when we were alone in her chambers, drinking wine and talking of the past, it was almost like we were sisters.
The queen shared her stories with me, her memories of my mother and father, and her knowledge of all things. The only thing she withheld from me was my freedom. This was the one decision she would never revisit. The city in the Wastes belonged to the Tal’mar, and there they must remain, always in secret. This matter she refused to discuss with me. And so I continued to plot.
Unfortunately, I soon came to learn that Tam was right. Escape was not possible. Not with so many watchful eyes, and especially now that so many lives were connected with mine. Those who wanted me dead were frothing at the mouth with hope that I would try to escape so they would have an expedient reason to murder me. Those that supported me… ultimately, I realized that I couldn’t let them down. For the first time in my life I had allies, and incredibly, they depended on me to do what was best for them.
So the weeks passed and then the months stretched into years. Eventually, I bore another child. I had found enough reason to trust Tam, and I had come to realize that his devotion to me was unshakable. Regardless of what happened, regardless of anything I did, Tam’s love for me would never fail. I didn’t need to ask him to forgive me for driving him away. All of that was in the past. He was simply happy to have another chance to be with me.
I found other reasons to admire him as well. He had courage, strength, and wisdom. He had all the characteristics of a great leader and a great man. Though I often didn’t understand the complexities of his scheming, I found that he never lead me wrong. He knew the Tal’mar in a way that I never could, and I quickly came to understand that I would need his loyalty in order to succeed.
Ultimately though, it was the loneliness that drove me into his arms. When the feelings of loss became more than I could bear and thoughts of my daughter were like distant dreams, Tam won me over. His steadfast loyalty gave me the strength I needed to go on. I found that I did love him, if not in the same way that I had loved Robie. This was a different love, a deep hard-won respect and devotion that was more like friendship than romance, and founded on trust more than anything else.
I took Tam as a mate, and within a year I had given him a son. For all intents and purposes I had become part of the Tal’mar, but my plotting was never more evident than in the name I gave to our child: Crowasten’Talbresha, Vengeful Sword of the North Wind. The other Tal’mar seemed to think nothing of it. Perhaps they thought it was an attempt to win them over, giving my son this old-fashioned, very traditional Tal’mar name. I didn’t care what they thought. I only knew that in Crow’s eyes I saw the potential for success in all the things I had failed. If I raised him right, and taught him all I knew, Crow could change the world.
9
Like all Tal’mar children, Crow matured rapidly. In months, he had grown from an infant to a small boy, and within a few years he had become an impressive young man. A decade later, he was several inches taller than me and had become the spitting image of his father -save for his unusually tall height and muscular build, which I can only attribute to my human ancestry.
Crow was magnificent. He had all the makings of a great leader. I knew in time he would have the Tal’mar eating out of the palm of his hand, but there were other things to do first. We had long since discovered the treasuries of ancient weapons and machines scattered throughout the city. Among these, we found incredible machines that utilized highly compressed steam for power. Some of these were similar to airplanes. Some were massive, large enough to carry fifty people at once. Others were small, like the cloak-shaped wing that allowed one person to fly with the speed and agility of a bird. There were many, many more, some of them practical, some designed just for entertainment.
As we made these discoveries, I went to extra lengths to make sure my grandmother knew I had no intention of leaving the city. I didn’t want her to suspect that I was still scheming against her. In fact, the impression I gave her was true. I had long since accepted the fact that I would never escape on my own. Occasionally, I still dreamed of finding a way, but over time I had seen the truth of the matter: escape was not possible, and even the attempt would put my family in danger.
I had other ideas, though. I had watched and learned from the scheming of the Tal’mar all those years, and I came to recognize the only way to truly accomplish my goals. I felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner. For all those years since my arrival, I had only thought of escape. I had wanted to break free and return to the mountains to find my daughter and Tinker. Perhaps that was the reason it took so long for me to realize that I didn’t need to escape at all. I needed to do something entirely different. I had to expose the Tal’mar.
I had to open up their precious city to the entire world, so that they would have no choice but to share it. And I had to do it before the Tal’mar grew too powerful. If I waited too long, no army in the world could force the Tal’mar to share their city. Many children had grown into young men and women already, and their numbers would only increase as time went by. The time to act was now. And thankfully, my son was ready.
Among our discoveries was the collection of flying “wings” that the higher-ranking nobles were allowed to use
recreationally. No one seemed to notice the true practical value of these items, that they could transport an individual hundreds or even thousands of miles in a single day. This fact was not lost on me, and I made sure to take advantage of my political position to acquire one of these for my son.
At the time I gave it to him, I presented it as a gift, a toy that might bring him some pleasure. I was careful to make sure he used it properly, of course. He practiced for many weeks at low altitude, over an open field. I took every precaution imaginable. Thankfully, my worries were those of an overprotective mother. Crow took to the skies like a bird. If nothing else, he had certainly inherited my love of flying.
One of the Tal’mar exploratory teams also discovered a large garage filled with four-wheeled vehicles similar to steamwagons or coaches, but with a low profile and large, powerful steam engines. We called them runabouts. They had seating for just two, with only a small space for cargo, but incredibly sophisticated steering and suspension systems. This, coupled with their incredibly powerful engines made them perfect for moving around quickly inside the city.
There were thousands of the vehicles. With only a few hundred Tal’mar families living in Sanctuary, the queen quite logically dispersed the vehicles throughout the city. Whenever a citizen felt like driving, he or she could simply take the nearest runabout to her destination and abandon it there for the next person. Naturally, some popular areas were constantly congested with the vehicles while less popular destinations like the Old Quarter rarely had a single runabout available.
Socrates once confided to me that there was a way to make the vehicles return to a designated area, but he refused to divulge this secret. “The Tal’mar already know everything,” he said snidely. “Just ask them. Why should I prove them wrong when they do it so effortlessly on their own?”
One day, I finally told Crow the truth about my past. I took him to a secret place, to the city park where the Creator had been laid to rest. I didn’t bring his father. I knew what Tam would say. Tam’s one and only concern had ever been to protect us, and I knew he would not approve of the story I was about to tell his son.
I took Crow to the park and filled him in on the pieces of my past that I had kept secret. I told him about how the Tal’mar had trapped me in Sanctuary, and how they refused to use their newfound powers to fight the Vangars to free our kingdom. I told him about Robie and how he died, and about how the Vangars had taken thousands of Tal’mar and humans and forced them into slavery. For the first time ever, I explained to Crow that he had a sister he had never met.
When I was done, Crow was understandably somber. I had protected him from this information for all of his childhood. It wouldn’t have done him any good to know these things as a child, it would only have frustrated and angered him as it had done to me. Over the years, I had learned to put my anger aside. I had learned patience. Crow had yet to learn this. He was angry with me.
“You should have told me, mother,” he said, pacing back and forth in front of the bench where I was seated.
“I’ve already explained this, Crow. It wouldn’t have done any good.”
“But I would have known. Don’t you see that I should have known? I have a sister!”
“I hope so,” I said quietly.
He shot me a horrified look. “What does that mean?”
“Many years have passed. Life in Astatia is not easy. The Vangars are cruel barbarians. Your sister-”
“She’s fine,” he said firmly. “I know it. I will find her.”
“Don’t be hasty. Caution is the key to success.” That was an old Tal’mar proverb that Crow had heard a thousand times, but like most old proverbs, I don’t think he really understood it.
“I have to do something,” he said, the anxiousness evident in his voice. “I must go get her.”
“Sit with me,” I said. “Calm yourself. I have a plan.”
He dropped onto the bench next to me and stared into my eyes. “Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
I took a deep breath. “First, you must be cautious. You will be swift and silent and deadly…”
10
Tam and I had moved into the city years earlier so Crow would be closer to the other children. On the night he left, we were living in a large apartment in one of the massive skyscrapers. Tam was sleeping when Crow and I slipped into the stairwell and climbed to the roof of the building.
Crow was eager to be off, but I had to take him in my arms one last time. As I held him, my stomach churned with fear. It suddenly felt wrong to me, sending my son to do this thing. It was too dangerous. Too many things might go wrong.
“Give me the cloak,” I said as I hugged him. “I can’t let you risk your life like this.”
“I’m not a child anymore,” he said. He looked down into my face, his eyes sparkling with mischief and adventure.
“I know,” I said. “But it’s not your war.”
“I don’t care about the war. I care about my sister. There is nothing you can do or say to stop me mother. I will find her.” He stepped away from me wearing a confident smile, and said, “I’ll bring her to you!”
With that he was off, spinning through the sky over the city, passing up over the rim of ice and out into the Wastes. Even though he left under the cover of darkness in the middle of the night, the Tal’mar guards spotted him, just as I knew they would. It wasn’t long before they were at our door. But before they arrived, I woke Tam and told him what I had done.
Tam was understandably dismayed, but it only took him a moment to recover from the shock. “I knew it,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew you would do something like this.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” I said defiantly. “You should be proud of your son. He is very brave.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about. The nobles will have you killed for this, Breeze. Not even the queen can save you this time.”
“I don’t care. Let them kill me. In a few weeks, none of it will matter. It’s all going to come crumbling down and they’ll do what’s right whether they like it or not.”
He gave me an exasperated look as he pulled on his boots and buckled his sword belt. He snatched his long coat off the hook by the door and then took me by the hand. “We have to go,” he said.
The guards were already banging on the door as we went onto the balcony and climbed down to the next level. We rushed into the apartment, which like most of the thousands of dwellings in the city was empty, and we left through the front door. I could hear the guards shouting above us as Tam activated the elevator. Steam vented out of the pipes and the sound of creaking gears filled the shaft. The guards heard, and cried out that we were in the elevator.
“They’re taking the stairs,” I said in a worried voice as we made our descent.
“They’ll never catch us,” Tam said.
A few seconds later, the doors opened and we flew across the lobby and out into the street. We climbed into one of the small steam-powered runabouts and went roaring down the street.
I took the wheel. Tam was perfectly capable of driving but being a Tal’mar, he had never fully accepted machines. They had been taboo in his culture for all of his life, and even in Sanctuary, it was difficult to let those old notions go. Tam had also long since learned to accept the fact that I simply must be in control. As the person who helped invent the first airplane and became the world’s first pilot, I believe it’s my prerogative to drive. Tam knows better than to argue.
Tam flinched as they fired a weapon and the bullet whistled over our heads. “Take the next street,” he said. “We’ll lose them in the tunnels.”
I tapped the brakes and twisted the wheel, drifting around the corner. “They’ll follow us,” I said. “We won’t be able to get out.”
“Trust me,” he said. “We can’t stay in the city.”
I sighed, but I stomped on the accelerator and followed his directions. The tunnels were once a sort of subway system. Apparently, the city was once so
populated that the engineers built underground train systems to move people around. Of course, once the people were gone the trains were shut down and forgotten. Over the centuries, the place had fallen into decay. Because of the safety risks, the queen had declared the tunnels off limits.
As we reached the area, I swerved to the right and guided the runabout down the broad paved ramp. Darkness washed over us as we passed beneath the streets and entered the massive parking garage next to the tracks. My eyes weren’t as sharp as Tam’s so I flipped the switch to activate the vehicle’s headlight. A hazy yellow ring of light appeared on the ground before us.
“There,” Tam said, pointing to the tracks. “Take the tunnel.”
We had almost run out of garage and the guards were gaining on us. I looked at him like he was crazy. “We can’t drive there!” I said.
“Just do it.”
As the edge of the platform loomed ahead of us, I clamped my teeth together and braced myself. We roared through the last parking spaces and past the small building at the edge of the rails. Then the ground disappeared, and for a moment, we were airborne.
I pressed my feet against the floor, pushing back on the steering wheel. Tam put his hands on the dash and leaned back in the seat with a grimace on his face. The runabout landed with a crash. Sparks flew into the air as the suspension absorbed the impact, and the axles slammed against the train rails. The vehicle rebounded and then bounced several times as I struggled to regain control. I activated the brakes long enough to get the steering under control and then hit the accelerator.
We went roaring down the tunnel with the left wheels between the rails and the right wheels bouncing along the ties. Behind us, I heard the unmistakable crash of the guards chasing us in their own runabout. I heard an explosion and saw flash of light over my head.
Blood and Steam (The Tinkerer's Daughter) Page 20