by Lizzy Ford
“No.”
“Then you can bitch at me or help me.”
Aveline neither knew nor cared what Tiana would decide to do. This was for her own sanity, to prevent her from going stir crazy. She needed the sunlight and to smell the city she grew up in.
After a hesitation, Tiana moved to the other side of the window and began tugging the board loose. Aveline loosened a few more of the nails and found most of them were rusted and rotted in place, as if the window had been covered for many years before Tiana assumed residency in the room.
“Pull,” she said and gave her side another yank.
Tiana did so, and the board splintered, groaned and then gave. It snapped off fast enough to knock her down. Aveline almost fell with her but caught herself and kept the board from falling on the blonde girl.
“We did it!” Aveline exclaimed and put the heavy wood down, leaning it against the table. She peered out of the window, admiring the view overlooking the city and surrounding prairie with glimpses of the forest visible from the top of the largest structure in the city. The day was a typical gray, cloudy mid-winter day, but the moment the wintery air chilled her lungs, Aveline began to relax. She belonged outside, not trapped in the tiny room.
Tiana joined her, and Aveline heard her breathe in deeply several times.
“Beautiful,” Tiana murmured. “Had I known this awaited me, I would have taken the boards down myself long ago.”
“No you wouldn’t have,” Aveline replied, amused.
“I would have thought about it,” Tiana said sheepishly.
“Don’t you ever …” Aveline glanced at her ward, and the question stopped in her throat.
In nearly every way, Tiana appeared normal. That was, until Aveline saw why Tiana kept her gaze downcast. She had no pupils. Or maybe, her eyes were made up solely of pupils. Aveline was not certain which was correct. Tiana’s almond-shaped eyes contained inky black irises that filled the entire eyeball with only a fleck of white peeking out on either side and no differentiation between the pupil and iris. The unnatural condition was impossible to miss once Tiana looked up.
The blonde girl’s smile faded when she realized Aveline was staring at her. She quickly averted her eyes to the ground again, whirled and ran to the closet. Tiana slammed the door closed, and Aveline heard the slide of the lock into place.
“Burn me,” she muttered. Unprepared to witness Tiana’s deformity, Aveline had reacted differently than she would have liked. It had taken a week for Tiana’s fragile trust to emerge, and Aveline had destroyed it in seconds.
Aveline went to the closet. “Tiana? You can come out. I didn’t mean to stare.”
No answer. Aveline sank down with her back to the door, uncertain what to say. “It’s not that bad,” she said.
“It is so!”
“You aren’t missing a leg or something. I understand why you don’t leave your room, because your father would probably burn you at the stake but you’re not … ugly.”
Tiana’s soft sniffling reached her.
Aveline rolled her eyes. “Tiana, I don’t care if your eyes are strange. My father massacred a thousand people in three days. I didn’t judge him for it and I don’t judge you for your eyes.”
“You should,” came the choked response. “When you understand everything, you will leave me or hate me or –”
“Why? Because your horrible family does?” Aveline snapped.
“No. Because …” Tiana’s mumbling was too choked by crying for Aveline to understand.
The ever-present charge in the air became almost stifling, until the hair on Aveline’s arms stood up on end. Movement from her peripheral drew her focus away from Tiana. Aveline sprang to her feet before she was able to register who – rather, what – was moving.
Pillows were lifting into the air off the bed, followed by the coverings and then by the bed itself. The armoire was next to float, then the vanity and everything on top of it. Aveline’s weapons floated into the air next.
Aveline blinked. She rubbed her eyes to ensure she was awake then reached out to one of the knives drifting towards her. She plucked it out of the air. It was solid, cool and heavy in her hand.
“Are you … are you doing this?” Aveline asked.
“Y…yes.”
So maybe Tiana had a few, extremely unusual traits working against her. Aveline absorbed the sight of the hovering inanimate objects in silence. She had never heard of anyone lifting objects without touching them, and she had no idea why Tiana’s eyes were so strange. Granted, the daughter of the Devil, who carried the blood of a demon, was not normal either. Until this incident, however, Aveline had never considered more people than the members of her family had been touched by demon blood.
“Is this magic?” she asked.
Tiana did not answer. The furniture and belongings settled onto the ground.
Uncomfortable with the display, Aveline nudged the bed to confirm it was too heavy for one person to lift. How had the frail girl hiding in the closet managed to use her mind to do this?
Why did it feel hot in here?
“I’m going for … food,” she said loudly enough for Tiana to hear.
Aveline fled the room faster than she intended to, blaming it on the heat and electrical charge. In the week she had been with Tiana, she had become complacent, not in guarding her ward, but in asking questions to satisfy her insistent instincts. After the display, her insides were wired and her inner voice agitated.
The energy did not release her until she was at the elevator. Only then was Aveline able to coax her tense shoulders back into place. She shivered. Part of her was amazed by Tiana’s gift, but it was the buzzing instinct of warning that bothered her. She never sensed danger from Tiana – but there was a threat in Tiana’s magic this time, as if the floating furniture were a few harmless drops of rain foretelling the approach of a violent thunderstorm.
Aveline was in the basement before she had completely shaken off the unnerving sense of being caught in a spider’s web of electrical currents. She sought out George and, unable to find him in either of the places she knew to look, she roamed the corridors in the hopes of crossing paths with him.
He was not around. She ventured into a part of the basement she had never visited before, as restless from a week trapped in the room as from the buzzing energy of Tiana’s unusual skill. The lights flickered out, and she froze in the darkness. Within seconds, fire sprang to life in the sconces stationed beside the electric powered bulbs.
The corridor was dimmer, and she began walking again, glancing at the torches. She had forgotten how much friendlier firelight was. Electricity was amazing, but she missed the warmth of dancing flames lulling her to sleep each night.
Shouting emanated from ahead. The hallway sloped downward to make room for a ceiling thirty feet in the air and massive bays on either side of the hall that far exceeded the sizes of barracks, kitchens and anywhere else Aveline had visited.
Her step slowed, and she shifted to the balls of her feet as she neared the door from where the voices came. The wide, wooden door was cracked open, and she nudged it farther into the room, curious.
This bay extended several hundred feet from the door and was fifty feet wide with a thirty foot ceiling. Her gaze fell to the curled, metal devices thicker than her legs and twenty feet tall in the center of the bay, and she stared at them, uncertain what exactly she was looking at. There were dozens of these structures extending all the way to the far wall, a forest of twisted metal.
An older man with white hair and a handsome, young man her age with dark hair and wearing a burgundy sash were arguing near the front of the devices. Aveline pushed the door open.
“Hey,” she called.
The two stopped and faced her, startled.
Too late, she realized she’d spoken aloud. Hoping they didn’t know who she was, or that she was supposed to be mute, she went ahead. “What is this place?”
Both glanced down at her sash.
> “Go. Fix it!” the older man ordered the younger and spun to face the door. “This area is off limits or did you not read the sign above the door?” he demanded of Aveline.
“I don’t read,” she retorted.
He froze mid-step, mouth agape, before he managed to speak. “You must be the street dog assigned to the Hanover girl.”
“That’s me,” Aveline confirmed, unfazed by the common derogatory name.
The older man smiled suddenly. “Come! I have questions for you!”
She moved farther into the room, unable to take her eyes off the metal structures. “What are these?” she asked.
“This is where electricity comes from,” he replied.
“Really?” She lifted her eyebrow quizzically. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“Electricity.”
He appeared taken aback. “Do you know what electricity is?” he asked with a frown.
“Lights?” She shrugged.
His mouth fell open, closed and then opened again.
“Maybe you should fix it, and I can talk to her,” the younger man said, joining them. “Forgive my master. We rarely have visitors, unless someone comes to scream at us for the lights being off. Did you come here to scream at us?”
“No,” Aveline replied. “Why are the lights off?”
“If you do not know what electricity is, how can you possibly understand any answer we give you?” the older man lamented.
“What he means,” the younger man said with a patient but pointed look at his master, “is that electricity is a complicated process with many challenges, such as consistently keeping the lights on. When the Old World collapsed, we salvaged as much technology as we could, but there have been problems since then preventing us from returning to the level we once were.”
“I understood that,” Aveline told the older man pointedly.
The younger man laughed. “My name is Jose and this is my master, Mohammed. He is the smartest man in the city.”
“Possibly the known world,” Mohammed added.
“Possibly the known world,” Jose repeated with a smile that told Aveline he had long since grown accustomed to his master’s oddities.
“I’m Aveline,” she said.
“If you are not here to yell at us, why have you come to visit?” Jose asked.
Because I can’t stop feeling like something is wrong here, and I don’t know what else to do except keep busy. The answer was much more complicated than she felt like explaining. “I was wandering around and heard you shouting. Thought I’d see why,” she replied.
“Jose, do you not know who this is?” Mohammed poked his slave. “Tiana Hanover’s slave.”
“We have heard about you,” Jose said. “I thought you were seven feet tall with fists made of steel.”
“No one has fists of steel, Jose,” Mohammed chided him and spun, striding towards the towering metal trees.
“He does not always understand humor,” Jose said quietly. His light brown gaze was on her, and Aveline peered up at him, uncertain when she had met anyone with kinder eyes or a brighter smile. “He is brilliant, though, and manages to keep the electricity on most of the time, unless one of the electromagnetic waves hit, which they do every forty eight hours or so.”
Aveline frowned, concerned not only for Tiana but for herself. “I don’t know what that means. Will these waves endanger us?”
“No. They are of no concern to anyone but us down here.” Jose’s grin was dazzling, and heat unfurled within her lower belly in response.
They gazed at one another too long.
“Shall I give you a tour?” Jose asked at last.
Aveline found herself nodding, mesmerized by the man in front of her in a way she did not recall experiencing before. Was it his straight teeth? The warm shade of his eyes? His husky, soft voice? He was tall with wide shoulders and lean, indicating he performed some kind of exercise, though his hands lacked the callouses one obtained when training with weapons.
“This is our control station area, where we can monitor the flow of electricity to every point in the building. Well, when it works, we can,” Jose said, oblivious to her scrutiny. He motioned to a wall of tables inlaid with bulbous buttons and the darkened, glass panes that resembled windows above them.
At Aveline’s doubtful look, he continued. “It is far more impressive when the electricity is working.” The tips of his ears turned pink in embarrassment.
“Hmmm. What are these metal trees?” she asked, uninterested in the control station. She walked towards the towering spires.
“Metal trees?” Mohammed echoed from somewhere within the structures. “Is this what our world has come to?”
“We rarely have visitors interested in what we do,” Jose said apologetically. “This is where electricity is generated. A river runs beneath the city, and we use it to power our internal grid.”
Aveline did not understand at all what he meant. For the sake of not offending his master further with her ignorance, or alerting Jose to the idea she was not as smart as he seemed to think she was, she nodded.
Jose showed her a separate control station, their break room and residences, and a warehouse where more metal trees waited to replace any of those that became broken by the strange waves he mentioned. Some of his explanations became convoluted, and many were beyond either her desire to understand or her limited education. Assassins were not hired because they could read or write or figure out how to use a river to power light bulbs. They were successful because they read people and situations and understood how to survive. Even so, she was able to appreciate the mind it took for Jose to work in such a place.
“ … and that’s it,” Jose said, returning them to their starting point.
“You really are the smartest people in the city,” she said, impressed.
“Possibly the world,” Mohammed corrected her.
Aveline snorted. “Possibly the world,” she repeated, eyes on Jose, who was grinning.
“You get used to him,” he said quietly.
“Jose, did you ask her yet?” piped up Mohammed from within the forest of metal trees.
“When one has guests, one does not ask the kinds of questions you often try to,” Jose scolded the older man gently.
An exasperated sigh was his response.
“What can the smartest man in the world possibly want to ask me?” Aveline countered.
“She has opened the door, Jose,” Mohammed said.
“Now you may ask,” Jose replied. “But be respectful, like we discussed.”
Mohammed appeared from behind one of the metal trees, clutching a toolbox in his knobby hands. “My dear Aveline, I am grateful you chose to visit us this day.” He glanced at Jose, who nodded in amused approval. “If I may ask, does Tiana exist?”
“Yes,” Aveline replied, trying not to laugh at Mohammed’s pained expression as he attempted to be polite.
“You have seen her?”
“Every day.”
“May I ask what she is like?”
The level of his curiosity caught her off guard. Were they asking because they suspected Tiana had special abilities, or because no one had ever seen the mysterious Hanover girl outside of events where she was veiled from sight?
“She’s very sweet, very honest. She embroiders all the time.” Aveline picked up her sash and motioned to the flowers Tiana had sewn into it. At the center of the pops of color was an eagle like the one tattooed on Tiana’s shoulder. “She likes to read.”
“She is educated. This is wonderful.” Mohammed nodded. “Her stepmother says she is of a sickly nature. What a beautiful, noble woman to care for her stepdaughter.” He sighed wistfully.
Aveline bit back her retort. She disliked every aspect of Matilda but grudgingly admitted it was not wise to say so, no matter how much the woman deserved to be widely despised.
Jose was watching her.
Aware of how much time she had been away from her ward, she
decided she had learned enough about electricity for the day. “I had better go,” she said. “Thanks for showing me around.”
“Wait! I have something for you to take her!” Mohammed cried. He darted into the room where he shared a bunk bed with Jose.
“I had heard the opposite about Matilda Hanover,” Jose admitted for her ears only.
“Not my place to say,” Aveline said with great control.
“Tiana is fortunate to have you.” Jose smiled.
Aveline said nothing, suspecting he already knew enough to understand why she was quiet on the topic of Matilda.
“I rarely ever leave here. Someone has to look after Mohammed and his metal trees,” Jose said with another winning smile. “If you ever want to come back or … if you ever have electricity problems …” He cleared his throat.
Aveline gazed at him, startled. His cheeks were pink, and he ducked his gaze. Uncertain how to respond, or even what was appropriate to say, she was silent. The daughter of the most feared assassin in the city had never been propositioned before or even considered it possible. She had been attracted to many men without imagining what happened if one of them were fascinating enough for her to pursue.
Jose was one of those men fascinating enough to pursue. Smart, kind and with pretty eyes that made her insides flutter whenever he looked at her. That he, too, noticed her unsettled her. She was accustomed to men viewing the Devil’s daughter as off-limits.
Mohammed returned with a small pouch, dispelling the light tension between them.
“I made these when the twins were born,” Mohammed said and tugged two necklaces out of the pouch.
“Twins?” Aveline echoed, grateful for the distraction from the rare uncertainty of her thoughts.
“Tiana had a twin. The twin was born with a deformity, so her father ordered the other child and his wife burnt at the stake,” Jose explained quietly.
But if Tiana’s twin was deformed …Aveline was unable to process the thought fully. Had Tiana’s father burnt the wrong daughter?
“Her father would burn a newborn as well as his wife?” Aveline asked, appalled. This truth was even worse than Tiana’s factual declaration of her mother’s fate.