A Clockwork Fairytale
Page 3
She rootled through the mess on top, coating her hands with soggy tea leaves and coffee grounds. A grin spread across her face as her fingers brushed fabric and she hauled out her jacket, scattering potato peelings across the path. She dug in again, searching for her breeches. They were more important because that’s where she’d hidden her pledge stone.
Her hand closed around an apple. Why would Gwinnie throw away a perfectly good piece of fruit? Master Maddox didn’t have the coin for apples so Melba normally had to steal them from the market if she wanted one. She bit into the fruit and chewed while she continued searching.
Out of the corner of her eye a flash of color and movement caught her attention. She ducked behind the wall as a member of the Shining Brotherhood hurried along the service lane toward her, his bright yellow habit glowing in the morning sun. Monks weren’t nobs, but they weren’t like normal people either. You never see a Brother in rags with an empty belly, Maddox used to say.
She peeped up as the Golden Robe stopped at the back of Turk’s palace and pulled something out of the wall. He pushed it up his sleeve and hurried back the way he’d come.
Once he was out of sight, Melba checked the place where he’d stopped and found a loose stone in the wall. She pulled it out to find a small wood-lined cubbyhole. What had the Brother taken? Did Master Turk even have spies in the Shining Brotherhood?
With a thoughtful glance along the lane, she wondered if she should tell Master Turk what she’d seen to prove how good a spy she would be. But if it was a secret, he might be angry. Life had taught her that it was usually best to keep her eyes open and her mouth shut.
She returned to the trash barrel and found her old breeches, but the loot pocket where she’s stashed her pledge stone was empty. Her breath heaved out on a frustrated sigh. Either Gwinnie had stolen it or it had fallen out in the trash.
There was only one thing left to do—she shoved the heavy wooden barrel over on its side and the contents spewed out across the path. As she kneeled to start searching, a furious screech rent the air.
“You filthy little tyke,” Gwinnie shouted. “Turk should have tossed you back in the gutter last night. You’ll be in for it now.”
Melba scarpered out of reach as the old woman dashed after her waving a rolling pin.
Master Turk strode out of the back door with a worried glance up at his neighbors’ windows. “Great Earth Jinn! What’s all the racket about?”
“Look at the mess the little tart’s made.” Gwinnie pointed at the trash on the path with her rolling pin.
“I were looking for me pledge stone.” Melba chucked her apple core at Gwinnie. “She took it when she stole me breeches.”
“Gwinnie knows better than to throw away a pledge stone.” Master Turk gave the old woman a pointed look.
“I had it put by safely for the girl,” Gwinnie said with an air of injured innocence.
“Then I suggest you return it to her immediately.”
“She can clear up this mess first.” Gwinnie wedged a hand on her hip and brandished the rolling pin again.
Turk’s jaw clenched and Melba waited for a scolding. “Ask the trash man to clear it up when he calls,” Master Turk said. “I want Mel to come inside and have breakfast before I talk with her.”
Gwinnie huffed and grumbled as she bustled back into the house, kicking vegetable peelings out of her way.
Melba couldn’t believe she’d escaped punishment. The masters in the outer circles thrashed boys for less. She eyed Master Turk curiously when she passed him. In the daylight, he looked even younger than he had last night. He could be only a few years older than she was.
“Hands, Melba,” he commanded. She rolled her eyes and detoured into the bathhouse to wash while Master Turk stood in the doorway watching her. She glanced at his tall dark figure out of the corner of her eye and a strange tingle chased through her body.
Once her hands passed his inspection, she sat at the kitchen table and Gwinnie thumped down a bowl of porridge in front of her. “Eat up, girl. Turk’s waiting to give you a grilling.”
“I’ll not be grilling anyone, Gwinnie. Less of the scaremongering if you will.” Turk’s steps clicked on the flagstone floor as he came to stand beside the table. “My apologies that you had to sleep at the table and weren’t provided with a cot for the night, Melba.” He frowned at Gwinnie, and the housekeeper busied herself clattering pans in the sink.
While he focused on Gwinnie, Melba took a good look at him. Unlike the scruffy masters in the outer circles, his golden brown skin was smoothly shaved, his gleaming black hair neatly trimmed. His jacket and black trousers fit perfectly as if he’d stepped out of a tailor’s shop window. He was even more handsome than she had thought.
The five interlaced circles of a silver Earth Blessing glinted against his white neck cloth. Was the blessing just a fashionable pin or was he an Earth Magic devotee? Perhaps she should find out more about Earth Magic to impress him.
He turned back and caught her staring. She snapped her gaze to the porridge and shoveled a huge spoonful in her mouth. Best eat as much as she could while it was there.
“We need to talk, Melba.” His serious tone of voice dampened her spirits. But she must stay sharp and keen if she was going to persuade him to keep her on.
She scraped her bowl clean and grinned at him while she licked the spoon. “I’m ready, sir. I’ll work really hard and be the best spy you ever had.”
He released a harassed breath. “Melba. Didn’t you listen to me yesterday? You’re a girl. You cannot be a spy.”
“I don’t want to be a girl. I’ve always been a boy.”
Master Turk shook his head. “Gwinnie, give me Mel’s pledge stone.”
Gwinnie moved some pots on the shelf above the range, retrieved the starlight stone from its hiding place, and dropped it in Master Turk’s hand.
He placed the smooth oval stone beside Melba’s empty bowl. She tried to grab it but he didn’t let go and their fingers touched. Tendrils of sensation crept up her arm and coiled through her body, setting her nerves tingling.
Her gaze jumped to his face. The deep velvety brown of his eyes drew her in and the room faded. A warm, dark presence flooded her consciousness, washing away tension and fear, compelling her to relax and open her mind, reveal her secrets. Panic flashed through her and she mentally pulled back into herself.
His lips parted on a soft gasp. “Who taught you to do that?”
“What did I do?” She blinked as if she’d just woken up, her memory fuzzy.
“Never mind.” His gaze moved to Gwinnie. “Give me an hour, then bring her to the library.”
What had just happened? She’d felt a similar sensation when he’d touched her hand after he’d rescued her. She wanted to ask him, but she decided it would be best to watch him closely and try to work it out for herself.
***
Turk was shocked at the ease with which Mel blocked him from her mind. If he wanted to read her memories to confirm who she was, he would have to activate her pledge in the Earth.
He fetched Melba’s wooden toggle from his room, then followed the narrow corridor to the back of the house and unlocked the door to the cellar. Holding an oil lamp, he ran down the winding stairs.
His footsteps echoed in the large empty chamber beneath Waterberry House. Water trickled down the rough stone walls into underground pipes leading back to the sea. Turk placed the lantern beside a bowl of starlight stones on the granite slab that served as his altar to the Great Earth Jinn. He stroked a hand affectionately across the starlight stones, drawing out the tiny wisps of energy that formed the Jinns inside. The little twisters spun around the altar in a sparkling display of light and color before returning to their stones. Of all the Jinns he raised, the little spirits in the starlight stones were the most loyal and eager to please. That’s why he used the stones to pledge to his gang of boys.
He lit a taper from his lantern, touched it to the wicks of two stubby white candles
standing in pools of melted wax, and examined Mel’s toggle.
Ironwood was difficult to carve. The intricate curlicues she’d worked must have taken patience and determination. Her effort would make the bond the Earth forged between the two of them stronger.
Turk kneeled on his golden hemp prayer rug from the Shining Brotherhood. He placed his palms on the dirt floor and pressed his forehead against the edge of the cold stone altar. “Great Earth Jinn, birther of all life, please give the Keeper Jinn that holds my pledge box leave to rise at my call.”
He lifted his gaze and pushed his awareness down through the altar stone into the moist Earth. With a clicking and whirring sound, a metal arm unfolded and pushed his hidden tin box up from behind the rock. Turk retrieved it, opened the lid, and dropped in the toggle to join the assorted bits of wood, stone, and metal his spies and runners had pledged to him. Then he placed the box back on the mechanical arm and watched it disappear down beneath the altar.
Turk closed his eyes, waiting for the tickle in his mind that confirmed the Earth Jinn had accepted the pledge and established the bond with Mel. The connection allowed him to read his spy’s thoughts, and even gave him mental control over the weaker boys whom he used as runners.
The altar stone trembled. Power rippled through his knees, ran up his thighs, trailed like streaks of fire through his groin, belly, and chest, and exploded inside his head. His breath caught. He clenched his fists against his thighs, unsure if the sensation was pain or pleasure.
He’d accepted the pledge of nigh on fifty people and given his pledge to his own master, yet he’d never experienced a feeling like this before.
Flexing his fingers, he pressed his forehead against the altar stone again to finish the ritual. “With faith, trust, and truth, I thank you, Great Earth Jinn, for the gift of power.”
He sat back on his heels and reached out his mind to hear Mel’s thoughts but sensed nothing more than her presence in the house. His unusual reaction to her pledge didn’t seem to have given him any special power over her. He released a frustrated sigh and stared up at the flickering pattern of candlelight on the damp ceiling. Questioning her would be a lot easier if he could read her thoughts or compel her to answer him, but he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Melba stirred him up inside in a strange unsettling way he’d never experienced before.
***
“In you go.” Gwinnie shoved Melba through a door into a posh room. “Turk’ll be here in a minute. Don’t you go touching nothing.”
The walls were covered from ceiling to floor with wooden bookshelves filled with green, blue, brown, and red books. Melba’s eyes widened at the sight. The only other books she’d seen were Maddox’s two hemp-bound analysis books for the bakery coin.
The room made her feel quiet and dreamy. The wooden floor tiles warmed her bare feet and the polish and book smell filled her nose. To her right, a glass door opened onto a balcony. She imagined Master Turk sitting in the worn leather chair by the door reading. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing done by a young spymaster who kicked sailors on the chin.
Melba walked around a massive polished desk, trailing her hand over a shiny brass frame holding a blotter. Master Turk’s crystal ink well was shaped like a huge jewel. If he trained her to spy, perhaps one day she would have enough coin to buy such things herself.
She pulled a book from the shelf and opened it on the desk. So many words on so many pages. What did they all mean?
The door clicked open behind her. “Found something interesting to read?” Master Turk asked.
She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know me letters.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I see.”
Melba waved a hand at the bookshelves. “What do folks have to say that takes so many words?” She flicked over a few pages of the book she’d opened. “There’s hundreds of words in each book. I can’t imagine so much talk.”
“Gently with the pages, Melba. Some of these books are old and brittle. They’re not indestructible. Earth gives and Earth takes away.”
He gently closed the book and cradled the spine in his fingers. “You have much to learn.”
Hope flashed through her. “Does that mean you’ll teach me to spy?”
He smiled. “You’re nothing if not persistent. I may teach you to read.”
Her heart dropped. What good was reading? That wouldn’t earn her respect or get her a decent job to put coin in her pocket.
His smile faded and he wrinkled his nose. “I can smell seaweed.”
“Gwinnie gave me seaweed soap to use in me bath.”
“Great Earth Jinn.” Master Turk pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seaweed soap is for cleaning the floors. I must have a serious talk with that woman. You’ll have to bathe again with proper soap. No wonder you’re still dirty.”
“I ain’t.” Melba looked at her hands. “I just got a little bit o’dirt under me fingernails.”
He angled his head, examining her. “You also have dirt on your ears, around your eyes, beside your nose and at the corners of your mouth. And that’s only the parts of you I can see.” He pointed at her head. “What happened to your hair?”
“Nothing.” Melba ran her hand over her short hair. It felt the same as usual.
“It looks as if someone has chewed it off.”
“I cut it with me knife.”
He shook his head. “Have you ever looked in a mirror?”
“What do I need with a mirror?” As long as she could pass for a boy, she didn’t care what she looked like. But as Master Turk’s dark eyes perused her critically, her cheeks warmed with a strange sensation she didn’t understand.
“I’ll ensure you have a mirror next time you bathe so you can clean your face properly,” he said.
Melba looked down and picked dirt out from under a fingernail. “If I get clean and smell nice like you, will you let me work for you?”
When he didn’t answer, she glanced up to find him frowning at her. He cleared his throat. “That won’t be possible.”
“Then why do you want me to clean up?” She didn’t understand him. If he was going to toss her out, why clean her up first?
“I need to ask you some questions, Melba. Please sit down.” He pointed to one of the chairs in front of the desk, then seated himself in the other.
Too many questions was always bad. It usually meant she’d done something wrong. She shrugged, pretending she didn’t care, and plopped into the seat. She slipped the pledge stone from the pocket of her clean trousers and hid it down the side of the chair in case he asked for it back. That way, if he searched her he wouldn’t find it and she could put it back in her pocket afterwards.
She froze when he leaned forward and pushed his hand down beside her leg to fish out the starlight stone. He dropped the pledge onto her lap. “I’ve been doing this longer than you, Melba. Don’t think you can outwit me with silly tricks a five-year-old would catch.”
Melba ground her teeth and stared down at the stone. Old Maddox made her run messages day and night, but with him she could get away with stuff. Master Turk might be lenient, but she was starting to wonder if she wanted to work for a master who didn’t miss a trick.
He leaned back and crossed his legs. Melba trailed her gaze over the engraved silver toecap on his shiny black shoe and the smooth black fabric hugging his knee and muscular thigh. He leaped between the buildings on the skyways so easily. He must have incredibly strong legs.
“Tell me about yourself, Melba. What are your earliest memories?”
The strange question snapped her attention back to his face. His expression was unreadable. Maddox always said she had more wits than his other three boys put together, but she couldn’t fathom what Master Turk was up to. She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth.
The silence in the room stretched, broken only by the ticking of a clock and the shout outside of a passing pie man.
“Being with old Maddox,” she offered when she couldn�
�t think of anything better.
“Before that?”
“There ain’t no before. I’ve always been with Maddox.”
“Maddox didn’t birth you, Melba.”
She shrugged. “He said me ma were a whore who tossed me out on the street and he took pity on me.”
“And you believed him?”
Melba had never thought much about who her mother was. Why would Maddox lie to her? She shrugged.
“Why would a small-time thief master who struggles to feed the few boys he runs burden himself with a girl?”
Unease fluttered in Melba’s belly. When Maddox supped a half o’ale too many, he often cursed the trouble she had caused him. She’d always believed he took her in because he had a kind heart. Although he was gruff and made her do her share of running the messages, he treated her fairly.
She looked down and curled her fingers around the starlight stone in her lap. The smooth shape fit snugly in her palm, somehow comforting. Gold and red shimmered through the crystal and tiny shiny stars flashed across its surface, but she wasn’t in the mood to enjoy her treasure. “If he didn’t take me in through pity, why else?”
“Why do thieves do anything, Melba?” he asked softly.
Coin.
Her chest tightened unbearably. Had her life in the baker’s shop been the result of a deal?
Suddenly understanding hit her. Master Turk knew her history. How had she been so slow to catch on?
She glared at him. “Tell me.”
He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I need to question Maddox before I’m sure of anything.”
Melba leaped up and ran to the glass doors overlooking the river. She couldn’t breathe in this stuffy room full of old books. She rattled the door but it wouldn’t open.
Master Turk’s hand gripped her shoulder. A warm relaxing feeling slid through her and she calmed down. When she dropped her hands from the door handle, he pushed a small key in the lock and opened the door. He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “We each have shining moments and shadow moments. Master Maddox may prove to be a shadow moment for you, Melba, but I promise that you have many shining moments to come.”