by Frank Morin
“What will my insane grandmother say when Donleavy shakes itself to pieces around her ears? She can’t be queen of a broken kingdom.”
“You always focus on the negative,” Harley snapped.
“How is this not negative?” Evander exclaimed.
She opened her mouth, but for a moment looked unsure what to say. Her gaze flickered back to the eruption and her shoulders sagged. “Maybe we did draw too deep, but between us, the queen and I can save Donleavy.” She spoke forcefully, as if trying to convince herself.
That made Shona feel even more terrified. She’d just witnessed the two of them sling elements around in ways she never would have believed possible. She barely accepted what she’d witnessed. And yet, now they looked frightened. What had they broken? What consequences would the nation face?
“Saving has never been your strength,” Evander pointed out.
“But killing you will be my pleasure. Next time we meet.”
Harley turned and stalked away. Evander took a step after her, but the ground shook across the devastated land, bucking and rippling like waves in a tempest. At first Shona thought they were joining in battle once more, but both Harley and Evander staggered. That seemed to make up his mind, and he turned and hurried in the opposite direction.
Shona scrambled out of her hole and rushed to Harley, tripping several times on the rolling ground. Harley fell to one knee, and that frightened Shona more than anything.
“Can’t you stop it?” she cried.
“Oh, you survived.” Harley sounded surprised and distracted.
“What’s happening?” Shona demanded, restraining the urge to slap the woman to get her to focus.
“The elements rebelled. We drew too deep and triggered an adverse reaction.”
“This is more than an adverse reaction. This is a disaster!” Shona shrieked.
Harley scowled at her. “The borderlands are unstable, but this area felt secure. I hadn’t expected the fault lines to connect so closely, but that instability transferred here too.”
“You can’t stop it?”
She shook her head. “Not here. Not yet. The eruption must run its course. Not even my lady queen could stop that, but together we should be able to shield Donleavy. Come girl, we have to leave.”
Instead of summoning one of her sliding chairs, she glanced up into the sky. “The air is unstable, but the earth is rejecting all control. I hate flying, but I don’t see any choice.”
Shona started to protest, but a whirlwind rushed out of the turbulent sky and caught them both into the air. Shona started spinning, but Harley grabbed her arm. She ended up backward, facing over the destruction of the Carraig. The land looked broken, as if a crazy farmer had taken the world’s biggest hoe to the entire plain and hacked it to soft, broken earth.
The flight was rocky, the unstable air pitching and spinning them about as they ascended. Harley grimaced and looked like she might get sick. Shona didn’t think she could feel any sicker.
Looking back, she caught a final glimpse of the broken lands where the Carraig had stood. The billowing clouds of dust parted for a moment and she noticed a geyser of earth in the center of the devastation.
A long, metal building, like the vault of the Sculpture House, rose to the surface, with Evander holding onto the end. He heaved the heavy structure, which must have weighed several tons, onto his back and shot away over the broken lands, heading southwest, around the erupting mountain.
She felt relieved he wasn’t chasing them.
35
Friends in High Places
Jean stood on a catwalk ten feet up one of the walls of the barn workroom in Faulenrost. That vantage gave her an excellent view of the test Dierk was conducting in one of the workspaces below.
Two prototype armor plates were secured to a heavy work table on a framework that mimicked the planned skeleton of the spherical armor they were building for Hamish. Dierk gave a signal, and those plates rotated apart, allowing a spinning drill to extend up between them for more than a foot.
The fast-spinning drill made barely any noise, propelled by quartzite, basalt, and some complex gearing. It was one of the new components that could act as both tool and weapon, depending on the need.
Jean clapped as Dierk raised his hands in victory. “Well done!”
She scrambled down to the work floor to join him and his team, who were congratulating themselves on the successful test. Dierk grinned at her, looking like his old, happy self. The dark anger that had been clouding his features so much in recent days couldn’t compete with the thrill of new inventions.
The day before, they’d worked through a five-hour brainstorming session about how to actually start attempting to make the ambitious project. She wished Hamish hadn’t left for Altkalen after that. He would have loved to see this test.
She also needed his amazing flashes of Builder inventiveness in their work developing close-vision goggles. She’d hoped adapting the long-vision goggles to magnifying tiny objects would prove simple, but they’d run into unexpected issues. The technique wasn’t quite the same. He’d developed the first long-vision goggles. Hopefully he could help her get the new ones figured out. She couldn’t wait to invite Karlmann to peer down at disease and see what it really looked like.
Bruno came around a line of high shelves that blocked Dierk’s group from the next work area where carpenters were assembling a one-tenth scale model of the spherical armor.
“Another success.” Bruno smiled, his teeth flashing white against his dark, tanned skin. “Amazing how much work we’ve accomplished in a single morning.”
“I know. When we get our teams focused, they really focus. I’m glad we had so many new people looking for projects.”
They had assigned every available person, and even pulled people from other projects to work on the huge armor. The project was big in scope and huge in complexity. Not only did they have to develop the shell, but had to pack the sphere with new mechanicals. The complexity was scary and exciting. Luckily, several other Builders had returned from Altkalen recently, drawn by the news of functioning workrooms. They eagerly dove into the new project.
“Is big complex, but big win,” Bruno said, switching to Obrioner. He was trying to learn her language as hard as she was trying to learn his, so they took turns practicing.
Jean’s smile faded. “I honestly believe we’ll make it work, but I worry about how much power stone it’ll consume.”
Bruno shrugged. “Is big huge. Need mighty fire to make move.”
Jean shook her head. “There has to be a way to harness the raw power more efficiently. All our progress with pulleys and gears prove it’s possible to take a little force and make it bigger.”
Bruno nodded, his brows creasing in thought. “Pulley and gear good for some things, but no can make fire burn hotter.”
Jean paced away, hands dipping into a pocket for her notebook. The many concepts they were studying were fascinating, and she felt a burning conviction that they would continue discovering important breakthroughs. She hated how rushed everything felt, though. They needed months to study and experiment, but they only had days.
“What are think?” Bruno asked.
She blew out an exasperated breath. “There has to be a way. I know it. With the information about the speedcaravan, I feel like there are concepts right there under our noses that we should be seeing. Even a little fire produces a lot of force. We should be able to take that, control it, and magnify . . .”
She trailed off as an idea struck with the force of pure inspiration. She gripped Bruno’s enormous hands in hers. “I think I have an idea how to make this work!”
“How?”
She pointed at the drill that Dierk and his team were gathered around. “We already know how to use air or fire to generate force, but we aren’t harnessing it tightly enough. What if we generate a little fire, but seal it in a tiny chamber, sort of like the smashpacker? Every bit of force could get harnessed to d
rive gears that could then magnify and disperse it.”
He started asking another question, but she interrupted. “Sorry. Give me a second.” She flipped open her notebook and began writing furiously, trying to get her thoughts down before they faded. Bruno had worked with her long enough to recognize those moments and he stood patiently, waiting for the flurry of creativity to ease.
“You’re looking very productive.”
Jean glanced up to see Danhildur, the leader of the brilliant Althin delegation, approaching. The mature woman had streaks of gray in her blond hair, and smile lines around her mouth and eyes. The Althin team had also received supplies and a dozen additional scientists recently, and they all eagerly jumped in to help.
Jean liked Danhildur and she suspected that was one reason the woman was chosen to lead the delegation. Most of the Althin scientists were so focused on research that they didn’t bother integrating socially.
Jean explained, “I just had a great idea about better harnessing the force of our power stones. How about you?”
“I look forward to seeing your notes. We are making steady progress in exploring and documenting fields of science and mathematics to support our mechanical building work. The mechanicals teams are thrilled by all they are learning about mechanicals.”
No doubt they were also eagerly sending reports back to the Arishat League. If the queen didn’t represent such an immediate and overwhelming threat, Jean would feel concerned about the amount of intelligence they were gathering, but she pushed those worries out of her mind. War with the Arishat League seemed less likely than Hamish going on a hunger strike. They needed each other too much.
She definitely needed them. They shared her love of learning and inventing, but they enjoyed a deeper education and even more experience with rigorous testing models, required by their often dangerous work with chemical weapons.
Danhildur held up a fresh set of plans for the armor. Her team included a talented draftsman who had taken their crude initial sketches and developed them into a full-blown set of plans. Those plans were getting updated hourly as the teams dove into the project, established workable test models, and teased out greater details required for the finished product.
Danhildur spoke both Obrioner and Grandurian with barely a trace of an Althin accent. “This armor will change the nature of battle.”
“I hope so.”
“Think what we could do with twenty of these. Not even a united Obrion would easily invade then.”
“Let’s focus on making just one for now.” Jean didn’t need to create an army of Builder-powered, giant, armored suits. They lacked the Builders to drive them, anyway. She had not yet shared with Danhildur the secret of the keystone that allowed non-Builders to power mechanicals, and she did not plan to until she better understood the Althins and their ultimate objectives.
“Two of my researchers are creating a plan to include some of our best weapons in this armor. If your man plans to help fight the great queen, he will need every advantage.”
“What weapons? Like the mega-stench?” Jean would not refuse any help, but she would not send Hamish into battle with weapons she did not fully understand.
Danhildur shook her head. “We have not yet replenished that supply, but we have other chemicals that could potentially disable even the queen.”
“We’ll have to review them and test them to make sure they won’t hurt Hamish.”
Danhildur hesitated, just for a second, but Jean noted it. “I will arrange a series of demonstrations as we prepare the first prototype for testing.”
“Good, and please send me the details of those weapons so I can study them in advance.”
Again a slight hesitation before she said, “I will see it done.”
The Althins would need to learn to share and to trust Jean as much as she was trusting them. So she added, “Thank you. I appreciate all the hard work you and your team are doing. We’re building the foundation of a unique school and new international cooperation. I’m glad you understand the importance of sharing information openly.”
Jean held her gaze and read in her eyes that she understood they needed to give as much as they received for the partnership to work.
Danhildur nodded in an almost-bow and gave her an approving smile. “When we first arrived, I had reservations about how well a country healer could lead this ambitious endeavor, but I believe your leaders made an excellent choice in picking you.”
Jean flashed a smile. “I picked me. They were smart enough to get out of my way.”
Danhildur laughed and returned to her team. Jean watched her go, feeling optimistic that they could make this situation work.
Hamish’s life depended on it.
Gisela rushed up, looking flustered. “Jean, I have receiving alarming news.”
“Is Hamish all right?”
“I have hearing nothing about Hamish.” Gisela pulled her aside, even though the banging and clanging and shouting of the work crews drowned out their words. “Lord Eberhard has receiving word from Lord Mattias ordering that we stopping all work here and relocating to Edderitz.”
“What?” Jean exclaimed.
“He has ordering that we build New Schwinkendorf on lands he is owning, near one of his palaces.”
For several seconds, she was not sure how to respond as her mind raced with the ramifications of that order. The New Schwinkendorf rebuilding effort out on the valley floor was progressing rapidly, despite the cold weather. Already the framework of the central hall was nearly complete and the outer shell should be done within a week. It made no sense to throw away all that work.
Then there was the tremendous progress they were making on the huge armored sphere, and the school planning. All of that work would be paralyzed for weeks to move everything to Edderitz. Why would Kilian . . .
Jean’s eyes narrowed and she asked, “You said this order came from Mattias, not Kilian?”
Gisela nodded.
Now it made perfect sense. “Has Verena awakened yet?”
“Not that we are having received word.”
“We’re not going anywhere. Come with me.”
She marched out of the workroom, through the cold streets of Faulenrost, to Lord Eberhard’s manor. The house guard escorted her immediately to his private study, a modest room that felt snug and tidy with its large bookshelf, thick rugs on the hardwood floor, and four comfortable chairs arranged in front of the fireplace full of glowing coals. Lord Eberhard sat near the window behind his paper-strewn desk, holding an open scroll of parchment in his left hand.
He waved Jean in with a smile. “You arrived even faster than I anticipated. Thank you, Gisela.”
She curtsied and left the room. Lord Eberhard came around the desk and gestured Jean to take one of the seats near the fireplace. He handed the scroll to her and she scanned its contents. She was learning Grandurian quickly, but struggled with the formal, flowery wording.
Lord Eberhard translated for her. “Mattias spends a great deal of time congratulating me and my people on our efforts to help the refugees from Schwinkendorf. Then he simply orders everyone and everything tied to the Builder compound transported to one of his estates outside of Edderitz.”
He gestured at the bottom section, packed with crests and insignia. “He included every official seal he could get his hands on.” He looked amused. “I suppose he’s trying a shock and awe tactic like the Crushers might attempt in battle.”
“But does he have the authority to do this?” Jean asked. She doubted it, but she was not nobility, wasn’t even Grandurian, so she had to tread carefully.
Lord Eberhard dropped into another chair and chuckled. “Authority to relocate an entire township, particularly the one that houses the Builders? Of course not. Only a direct order from the monarchy or the central high command during a time of war carries that kind of authority.”
“Or Kilian.”
“Yes, but Kilian does not meddle in such things often.”
&nbs
p; “He has taken a personal interest in the development of the Builder school, rebuilding of New Schwinkendorf, and resumption of mechanical production.”
“That is true,” he said with a smile. “And of course, we cannot ignore the wishes of the Hero of Schwinkendorf, can we?”
Jean grinned. “Can you ignore the order, then?”
He hesitated. “I cannot simply ignore it. Mattias enjoys very good connections, including the patronage of the crown prince himself. No, we must tread carefully or he might attempt to leverage those connections. We would have to obey then.”
“But he hasn’t done it yet. He must know that he might be refused. He must think it better to try moving everything quietly, then ask for forgiveness later.”
“Why do it at all?” Lord Eberhard asked.
“He’s trying to position himself so Verena has no choice but to accept his suit when she awakens. If New Schwinkendorf and all mechanical research is established on his estates, she’ll have to live right next to him anyway. What’s more logical than resuming their courtship?”
“I thought Lady Verena had chosen your friend Connor.”
“She has, and she will, but there were some complications. No doubt Mattias will try to ban Connor from seeing her long enough to capitalize on those complications and secure her to him.”
Lord Eberhard’s expression hardened. “Verena is very popular here. I would feel honor bound to resist efforts to manipulate her into an alliance against her will.”
“I hoped you’d see it that way. What if you responded by saying you’re happy to help Mattias in any effort he’s been ordered to undertake. In fact, you plan to immediately write to Kilian to ask for guidance on transitioning production from here to the new location near Edderitz?”
He laughed. “I like it. And of course, I’ll have to send a delegation to that property to plan the layout of the community. I’ll even ask for a sizable advance sum of money to purchase supplies to position to help speed up the process. We could optimistically begin the effort within three months of receiving those funds.”