A Clockwork Fairytale

by Helen Scott Taylor

  ***

  Later that evening, Turk ran down a roof and jumped into the yard behind the Fish and Flag Tavern. Shouldering open the heavy door, he slipped into the back corridor. He brushed some specks of brick dust from his jacket as he walked to the private room he reserved for interviews.

  He’d reckoned Maddox would be more likely to meet him on territory he believed to be neutral. The old man probably didn’t realize that the Shining Brotherhood owned the tavern and Cuthbert, the man who masqueraded as the owner, was pledged to Turk.

  Cuthbert’s ruddy face appeared around the door to the bar and he tugged on his shaggy gray forelock. “Evenin’, Master. Would you be wanting a sip or a sup?”

  Turk examined the small bare table in the interview room. Maybe a drink would relax Maddox enough to loosen his tongue. “A jug of ale and two cups.”

  Cuthbert looked over his shoulder and grunted a command, then returned his attention to Turk. “Maddox is ’ere, sir.”

  Turk surveyed the three chairs set around the room’s empty fireplace. He dragged one away to the far side of the table and set the other two facing each other. “Send him through. After you bring the ale, let there be no disturbances.”

  Cuthbert dipped his head and shuffled away. After the ale arrived, Turk poured himself a tankard and took a sip. He’d never been a lover of ale, and certainly not of overindulgence. The Shining Brotherhood had taught him the benefit of self-control in all things.

  Someone scratched on the door.

  “Come!” Turk shouted.

  The door creaked open and Maddox stood in the gap, his grizzled beard and hair unkempt, his greasy cap clutched to his chest. “You wanted to see me, sir.”

  “That I did.” Turk gestured him in. “Take a mug of ale with me. I’ve a question or two for you.”

  “I’ve not trod on your toes I hope, sir. Never meant to if I did.”

  “No, Maddox, my toes are intact.” Turk passed the mug of ale to his guest before leading him to the chairs by the fireplace.

  They both sat and Maddox sipped his ale uncomfortably. His gaze darted around the room, skipping over Turk to settle on his own feet.

  “I saw a boy press-ganged by some bluejackets the other night. I’m told he belonged to you,” Turk said, watching for Maddox’s reaction.

  The old man’s eyes fixed on Turk’s face for a second then he looked down, his mouth set in a hard line.

  “You don’t seem bothered by the loss of your pledge.” Turk sipped his ale, his chest full of angry heat at Maddox’s obvious wish to disown Mel.

  Maddox’s gaze crept back to Turk’s face, a wary gleam in his eyes. “Always been trouble, that boy. Never know where he’s going or if the tyke’ll come back.”

  Turk drew in a steadying breath. “So I take it you don’t want Mel back?”

  Maddox scrunched his face and tipped his head to one side. “Can’t say’s I miss ’im, unreliable as he is an’ all.”

  Turk’s stomach rebelled at the man’s heartlessness. He placed his mug on the brick hearth with a clack. He wanted to drag Maddox down to the harbor and toss him in the sewage where he belonged. That would satisfy his own anger, but it wouldn’t get answers.

  “I gather you’ve had Mel a long time?”

  Maddox downed a swallow of ale. “Since he sucked up his grub, just about.”

  “Yet the thought of abandoning the lad to life aboard a Royal Barge doesn’t concern you?”

  Maddox scratched the stubble on his chin. “Nothing I can do now. Boy’s gone. Likes o’ me won’t get ’im back from the bluejackets.”

  “You could have petitioned my help.” Turk’s voice dropped to a lethally soft drawl.

  The old man shrugged and stared into his mug.

  Unable to contain his feelings, Turk jumped up and gripped the chair on either side of the old man’s head. Maddox recoiled, sloshing ale on his breeches. “Can you imagine what life would be like for a seventeen-year-old girl on a Royal Barge full of sailors?” Turk’s soft words vibrated with anger.

  The blood drained out of Maddox’s face, leaving him gray as sea mist. He swallowed audibly. “Don’t know what you’re—”

  “Mister Maddox, I know when people lie to me.” Turk enunciated each word carefully.

  Fear swam in the old man’s bloodshot eyes as he raised them to meet Turk’s gaze. His lips trembled and he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “What do you want of me, sir? I’ll do anything. Great Earth Jinn, save me.”

  Turk backed off and put his chair between them lest he be tempted to send Maddox back to the Earth before his time. “You’ll answer my questions honestly.”

  “Aye, sir. Ask away. I’ll do me best, so I will.”

  “Where did you get Melba from?”

  Maddox swallowed and his mug trembled in his hand. “A bluejacket from the Royal Fleet brought her to me door in the early hours. She were a wee mite. He told me to raise her as a boy. Keep those strange feet o’ hers covered up an’ all.”

  “Did you know the man?”

  Maddox shook his head. “Never seen him afore or since.”

  “Why you?”

  The old man shrugged.

  “You didn’t think to refuse.”

  Maddox frowned. “Course I did. No one wants to be lumbered with a girl to feed and clothe. He didn’t give me no choice. Said he’d summon a Foul Jinn to send me barmy. Said he’d know if I weren’t looking after her right. Weren’t so bad raisin’ her as a boy, though. She earned her keep running and thieving like the other lads. Best I had, truth be told. Sharp as a tack.”

  “So why were you willing to let her go now? Have Foul Jinns lost their terror for you?”

  “No, sir. He said she’d be taken back before she grew to be a woman. When she didn’t come home, I figured someone had claimed her. Then you mentioned the bluejackets and I thought, you know, they must be the ones.”

  Turk relaxed a fraction. Maybe Maddox wasn’t as heartless as he’d thought. If a sailor had delivered Melba to his door, then having sailors take her away didn’t sound unreasonable.

  “Stand up, Maddox.” The man stood, clutching his cap with white knuckles.

  “You’ll not tell anyone about this conversation, and you’ll never reveal that Melba is a girl. Do I make myself clear?”

  Maddox nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

  Just to be on the safe side, Turk took one of his starlight stones containing a small Jinn from his pocket. This would allow him to track Maddox and listen to his thoughts from a distance. “Give me your pledge.”

  The old man dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out a tin disk stamped with a loaf of bread. Turk took the pledge from his palm and replaced it with the starlight stone. “Keep my pledge on you at all times.”

  Maddox glanced down at the stone and swallowed hard. “Won’t hurt me, will it?”

  Turk gave him a withering glance. “’Tis a pledge, man, not a Foul Jinn.” He raised a warning finger. “I’ll be watching you.”

  Turk went to the door, then stopped and looked back. “You know the bunkhouse I keep for my lads?” He waited for Maddox to nod. “If you ever see the bluejacket who left the baby or if anyone contacts you about Mel, you send me a message via my man Steptoe.”

  “Aye, sir, and...” Maddox paused and licked his flabby lips. “The girl. She’s safe, sir, ain’t she?”

  Turk gave a single abrupt nod before striding along the back corridor and out the way he’d entered.

  When he gained the first sheltered roof, he stopped and stared up at the stars. Nothing Maddox had said confirmed that Melba was the lost princess, but the evidence was compelling. Had the sailor’s threat to summon a Foul Jinn to possess Maddox been real or a bluff? Only those trained by the Shining Brotherhood had the power to summon a Jinn. But surely Turk’s beloved master, the Primate of the Shining Brotherhood, would not sanction the kidnapping of his own niece.

  Chapter Three

  Don’t launch your boat until yo
u know which way the tide is running.

  —Vittorio, the Royal Victualler

  Turk jumped onto the Monastery roof, deftly avoiding the trip wires set to ring alarm bells if anyone tried to enter the private community via the skyways. He dropped lightly onto the end of the covered balcony that ran the length of the west wing where senior members of the Shining Brotherhood had their chambers. Honoring the rules, he removed his boots before continuing along the mosaic tiles.

  At the first door, he stopped and knocked once. He was surprised he’d had to knock at all; his master usually sensed his arrival and had the door open for him.

  A whisper of warning brushed his senses. He slipped back the way he’d come and ducked out of sight. His master’s door opened and voices echoed across the dark quadrangle. A man in the golden hemp robes of the Brotherhood came out and hurried away in the opposite direction.

  Turk waited until the monk was out of sight before walking back to the open door. His work for the Brothers was so secret only the senior members knew. His Eminence, the Shining Brotherhood’s Primate, Gregorio, stood with his back to the door, lamplight glowing on his golden robes as he poured ruby port into a long-stemmed crystal glass. “Turk, my dear friend,” he said without turning, “a measure of port for you?”

  “A half measure, master,” Turk replied as he entered and closed the door behind him. “I don’t wish to miss my step on the way home.”

  His master’s familiar wrinkled face creased into a welcoming smile as he turned and offered one of the glasses. “You’ve become a stranger, so rarely do you visit me these days. I miss your company. Please sit.” He gestured to the comfy leather chairs on either side of the cold fireplace.

  “Are you well, master?”

  Gregorio lowered himself carefully into one of the chairs and sighed. “Winter is past, but these old bones feel the chill of night. Earth is calling me back into its embrace, and, to tell the truth, I’m tired of fighting the good fight when the Royal Victualler glories unchecked in corrupt power.”

  “Let me light the fire for you.” Turk kneeled at the hearth and put down his boots. He set out the small pottery bowl, block of lead, and file needed to raise a Fire Jinn.

  Gregorio sipped his port while Turk filed a fine metal dust from the piece of lead into the bowl and whispered, “Great Earth Jinn, birther of all life, please give the Fire Jinn leave to rise at my call.” Turk cupped the small bowl in his palms and the filings flickered with golden flames. A tiny fire spirit rose, whirling and dancing in the blaze. “With faith, trust, and truth, I thank you, Great Earth Jinn, for the gift of power,” he whispered as he poured the contents of the bowl over the logs in the fireplace.

  “Thank you, boy.” Gregorio patted his shoulder.

  Turk set aside the bowl and took his seat. “So what has the esteemed Royal Victualler done to anger you this time?” he asked while he watched the Fire Jinn spin manically, catching alight the dried bark with a crackle.

  Gregorio shook his head. “Have you got all night?” He sighed, a sad defeated sound that shivered unease through Turk. His master was always determined to defend the rights of the poor, but Turk sensed despair in his tone.

  “Vittorio’s latest offence against the sensibilities of decent folk is to sentence four smugglers to execution in The Well. He exercises a rigid policy on the distribution of goods and chattels, yet when the people of the outer circles resort to smuggling in food to feed their families, he executes them.” Gregorio threw up his hands in disgust.

  “As the king’s health fades,” he continued, “Vittorio’s power grows. He woos the silly nobles with his mechanical doodads and talk of airships and they can’t see through his deception. I’m certain he’s plotting to seize the throne from my brother. Despite my love of serving the Great Earth Jinn, I dearly wish I had not abdicated the throne. Had I become king when my father returned to the Earth, I would never have allowed Vittorio to acquire such influence. Ah, the wisdom of hindsight.” Gregorio released a protracted breath and downed a large swallow of port.

  When Turk judged his master had finished venting his frustration, he deposited his glass untouched on a table and kneeled at his master’s feet, as he had done countless times since the day fourteen years ago when Gregorio had found him on a trash barge. “I come from the shadows to seek your advice, Shining One.”

  The old man’s cool fingers touched Turk’s forehead. He waited for the moment of confusion when his master entered his mind, but it didn’t come.

  Gregorio’s fingers withdrew. “Rise, Turk. Tell me your news. I’d rather talk tonight than scour your mind for dark deeds. Tell me something to cheer me up.”

  Turk returned to his chair and took a moment to sip his port. The liquid burned down his throat while he considered how to broach the subject of Melba. “Yesterday, I accepted a pledge from a boy who wanted to train as a spy. The boy turned out to be a girl.”

  Gregorio stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. He slapped the arm of his chair and shook his head. “I can always count on you to come up with the unexpected, boy. So what have you done with this enterprising girl?”

  “She’s staying at my palace.” As Gregorio’s smile transformed into a frown, Turk hastened to explain. “There’s something special about her. Not only does she have natural power, but I suspect her to be the lost princess.”

  “Great Earth Jinn!” Gregorio whispered. He rested his glass on the arm of his chair and stared thoughtfully at the Fire Jinn dancing among the flames. “If you have found the heir to the throne, it will certainly put an end to Vittorio’s ambition to succeed my brother.”

  Gregorio’s penetrating blue eyes flicked back to Turk. “If we gain control of this girl, we’ll have a powerful voice in the political decision-making process. This could be excellent news for the people of Malverne Isle.” Gregorio beckoned him closer. “Come, I’ve changed my mind. Let me read you.”

  Turk went down on his knees and hazy confusion swept through him as his master surveyed his thoughts. “From your memories she bears a likeness to her poor dear mother, but the twelve toes is the clincher.” He wiggled his own toes inside his gold silk slippers. “The feature is peculiar to my family.”

  Turk sighed with a wealth of mixed emotions. Restoring Melba to her family would benefit her and the people of Malverne Isle, but he was not entirely happy with the Shining Brotherhood using her as Gregorio suggested.

  “Did you notice from my memories that it was a bluejacket who delivered the stolen babe to Maddox?” Turk asked.

  Gregorio nodded. “You were too young to remember, but that was around the time Vittorio was excommunicated from the Brotherhood, and he joined the Royal Fleet. I wouldn’t put kidnapping the princess past him if he thought it would be to his benefit. He was extraordinarily talented and determined when he was a trainee. It’s such a shame his personal ambition fouled his mind.”

  “Maddox expected someone to return for Melba before she grew to be a woman.”

  “Perhaps whoever left her with the baker planned to marry her to take the throne when her father died,” Gregorio suggested.

  They stared at each other thoughtfully. “If Vittorio truly has ambitions to rule, that certainly implicates him in her kidnap,” Turk said. “But why hasn’t he returned for her?”

  Gregorio sighed. “I cannot guess. But I do know that the Great Earth Jinn has delivered the princess into your hands for a reason, Turk. You must master this girl’s mind and train her to comport herself in a way befitting a princess so we can restore her to her father.”

  Turk reared back, eyes wide. “She’s been raised as a boy, a runner and a thief.”

  “I read your mind, boy. I’m fully aware of the enormity of the task, but succeed you must. This is of supreme importance to every man, woman, and child on Malverne Isle. If Vittorio assumes the throne, he will banish me and the Shining Brotherhood from the Isle and his Foul Magic will bring misery and suffering to everyone.”

 
; “But if we return her to the Palace, she’ll be vulnerable to Vittorio’s poisonous influence. She might even be in danger.” Turk’s heart missed a beat when he imagined little skinny Mel in her baggy breeches and tatty jacket trying to stand up to the tainted magic of the Royal Victualler. It took years for the Shining Brotherhood’s initiates to master enough Earth Magic to progress to trainees and then full Brothers, and he would have time to teach Melba only the barest minimum to defend herself.

  “We have no choice, Turk. We must restore the heir to the royal family. You must gain her trust and arm her with skills to resist the Royal Victualler’s magic. Once she returns to Court, all eyes will be on her. I cannot see how Vittorio could get away with attacking her.”

  “Mastering her will be difficult. She’s untrained in the mental arts, but she instinctively protects her thoughts.”

  “That is no surprise. She’s of my blood.” Gregorio, smiled, a hint of pride in his expression. “My brother ignored his magical potential but he’ll have passed it on to his daughter. No doubt she’ll lead you a merry dance, boy, but you’ll succeed. You have to.”

  “I’ve accepted her pledge and given it to the Earth,” Turk said.

  Gregorio tapped the arm of his chair. “Remember the tide runs both ways, Turk. If she’s strong, she might bend you to her will. A man and woman traditionally exchange pledges when they marry. The exchange is usually only symbolic, but when both man and wife have power, the practice takes on greater significance.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you understand my meaning?”

  Turk relived the strange pleasure-pain he’d felt when he gave Melba’s pledge to the Earth. The possible significance of that sensation unnerved him slightly. He sucked in air, forced it out again. “That problem had not occurred to me.”

  “I must ask you to renew your vow of celibacy. You cannot consort with the heir to the throne under any circumstances.”

  Memories of Melba’s dirty face, messy hair, and skinny naked body chased through Turk’s mind. She would not tempt him even if they were bonded like man and wife. “I avow there will be no inappropriate behavior, master.”