The Cyborg Tinkerer

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The Cyborg Tinkerer Page 17

by Meg LaTorre


  They’re running away.

  Slowly, the dragon forced Abrecan and his friends toward the edge of the cave’s entrance. More and more performers tumbled off the cliff or retreated. If they didn’t do something, and quick, they would all be dead.

  Suddenly, two forms appeared, hovering before the mouth of the cave.

  “Gwen!” Rora cried.

  Like a tall, foul-mouthed savior goddess, Gwen appeared, riding a skimmer with…

  Was that Bastian Kabir?

  The ringleader leaped into the mouth of the cave beside Abrecan and Thaniel. He brandished a sword and shield, swiping at the dragon’s flank. Gwen flew into the mouth of the cave, narrowly skimming out of the dragon’s reach.

  I have to help.

  Looking around for a weapon, Rora realized her spear was nothing but a line of ash and a small metal tip.

  “Stay here,” Rora said to Marzanna before grabbing the tip of the spear and running toward Gwen and the enraged dragon.

  The dragon snapped at Gwen, its teeth nearly sinking into her skimming board as she slashed with her sword. Then its tail collided with Bastian, sending him flying into the cave’s wall.

  “Hey!” Rora waved her arms. “Dragon! Over here!”

  The creature didn’t turn toward her, perhaps having forgotten her entirely. But as teeth flashed, reflecting blinding sunlight, Rora’s heart slammed in her chest. Catching Gwen’s sword between its teeth, the dragon snapped it in half.

  Eyes widening, Rora’s gaze skirted between Gwen’s shattered sword and the arrow sticking out of the dragon’s flank. For an impossibly long moment, she watched as long shards of metal pattered onto the ground alongside crystal.

  If I don’t do something, Gwen and the others might die.

  She didn’t want to hurt the dragon. But more than that, she couldn’t let anything happen to Gwen. Plan or no plan, an instinct swelled within Rora that had her charging forward.

  Before the dragon could lunge for Gwen, Rora swung her cyborg fist down—and onto Abrecan’s arrow, driving it deeper into the dragon’s flank.

  Blood oozed as the beast roared.

  Turning, it lunged for her. She stumbled backward but not nearly fast enough. She held a hand up to shield her face. Powerful jaws sank into her cyborg hand, crunching it into useless scrap metal and sending sparks flying.

  For a moment, time seemed to slow. As sparks hovered in midair, all she could think of was her shattered dreams of performing for the emperor. She thought of everything she’d gone through—everything she’d done—to get a new hand. All to keep performing and to be the best. Last of all, she thought of how she’d knowingly coerced Gwen in the hope of getting a new implant. And how, even now, she was no longer certain of anything, least of all her feelings toward the tinkerer.

  Had it all been for nothing?

  Then time resumed, and deep, all-consuming pain crashed into her like the ocean tide. The dragon’s eyes widened as electric shocks bolted through its jaw. It released her, shaking its head furiously.

  Screaming, Rora fell backward as more electric bolts shot up her arm. Agony exploded through her senses as the battery in her implant went haywire. It was as though every nerve was on fire. Her world narrowed to the electricity pulsing from her hand.

  Writhing on the ground, she screamed until her voice became hoarse. But wave after wave of agony hit her senses. Her body spasmed and convulsed on the cave floor.

  Somewhere above her, the dragon roared. She prayed it would end her swiftly. Anything to stop this endless torture.

  A form appeared before her, her foot dragging. She stood between Rora and the dragon.

  “No, Marzanna—” Rora tried to say, but the words were choked as another scream tore through her.

  Marzanna did her best to move quickly, but the dragon was faster. It swiped its tail and hit home. As the trapeze artist flipped through the air, sparks erupted in her foot, and she tumbled to the floor.

  “No!” Rora screamed, but she could do nothing as her body convulsed. Bolt after bolt of electricity ricocheted through her.

  Blinking through the tears blurring her vision, Rora peered at Gwen. She, Bastian, Thaniel, and Abrecan fought to get the dragon’s attention and lead it away from them. Feet pounded as the dragon stormed toward the mouth of the cave, enraged.

  Gwen went for its injured flank, following Rora’s lead by slamming a shield onto the arrow already embedded in its flesh. The dragon spewed smoke and fire. Bastian ducked beneath the dragon’s wings before leaping onto its back. Twisting its head, the dragon tried to shake him off. When he held fast, it shuffled toward the mouth of the cave.

  Abrecan and Thaniel dived to the side as the dragon ran toward the cliff and leaped into the air—with Bastian on its back.

  Sudden silence enveloped the cave.

  The electric bolts had stopped, replaced by a throbbing agony in Rora’s hand. She blinked. Remaining awake suddenly felt like a tremendous effort.

  Gwen’s beautiful face appeared above hers, smeared with ash, her hair in disarray. The tinkerer moved swiftly, checking Rora’s vitals and studying her destroyed hand. Rather than her usual tinkering, Gwen stood and hurried over to another body lying beside hers.

  It was then Rora realized Marzanna lay beside her. And she wasn’t moving.

  Chapter 19

  Marching toward the mouth of the cave, Gwen grabbed her skimmer.

  Abrecan and Thaniel stared slack-jawed at where Bastian rode atop the dragon’s back over the forest below.

  “If those two women aren’t alive when I return…” Gwen pointed at where Rora and Marzanna lay on the cave floor behind her. “So help me, I will kill you myself and make it look like an accident. Have I made myself clear?”

  Abrecan’s eyes swept the length of her. “Implicitly.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be back. I seem to have misplaced my ringleader.” Despite her casual tone, fear tightened her chest. But the fear wasn’t for herself. Interestingly, it was for the idiot riding on the dragon.

  Kicking on her skimmer, she flew after Bastian and the damned dragon.

  Crouching low, she headed straight toward them, throttling the engine’s gears.

  To her surprise, catching up wasn’t difficult. The dragon didn’t fly straight but twisted. The creature turned, teeth snapping, trying to buck Bastian off its back. But Bastian was somehow managing to hold on just out of reach of the dragon’s jaws.

  Rather than holding fast to the dragon’s scaly hide as it continued to buck, Bastian rummaged through his pocket.

  “What are you doing?” Gwen shouted as she flew alongside them, just out of reach of the dragon’s slashing tail.

  He pointed at his pocket, nearly losing his grip on the dragon. “I have syringes, but I can’t assemble them.”

  That’s what you went to get yesterday.

  “Toss them to me!” she screamed. “Now, Bastian!”

  She idled her skimmer as the scarlet dragon wheeled around to face her. Fumbling, Bastian pulled the box of anesthetics from his pocket as the dragon flew toward her, closing the distance.

  Throw it. Throw it now!

  As he threw the box to the side, she dived out of reach of the dragon’s claws just in time. Flying forward, she caught the box before idling again, removing a vial, and filling the syringe.

  In her periphery, she sensed the dragon’s flapping wings and heard its breathy intake as it neared once more.

  “Gwen!” Bastian shouted, his voice close.

  She pocketed the box before tossing the empty vial. “Got it!”

  Then she flew straight toward the approaching dragon.

  “Catch!”

  She lobbed the syringe of anesthetics at Bastian, needle and all.

  Reaching out, he grabbed the syringe without stabbing himself. Too soon, the dragon was on her, and she veered skyward. Its claws scraped against the bottom of her board, but she remained airborne.

  Looking down, she watched as Bastian jam
med the syringe between the dragon’s scales on its neck.

  The beast roared, which was followed by a pitiful, whining sound. It shook its head like a dog out of water. Its wings toddled first before its head dropped, and they descended headfirst toward the forest below.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  She revved the engine again as both dragon and rider fell from the sky.

  As she neared them, she reached out, trying to catch Bastian’s reaching hand. But she was too slow. Bastian and the scarlet dragon collided with the canopy of trees. Branches snapped noisily as they fell toward the ground.

  She flew after them.

  It took a moment to find an opening in the trees and another to locate Bastian. He lay on his back on the ground, eyes closed.

  Soaring low, she kicked off her skimmer’s engine, jumped to the ground, and ran over.

  Nearby, the scarlet dragon lay unconscious, its tongue lolling from its mouth as its chest rose and fell in a deep sleep.

  “Bastian!” She ran a hand over his face and then over his chest. “Are you okay?”

  Stars, was he breathing?

  There was a notable intake of air before the ringleader grunted.

  “I’m fine,” he wheezed, eyebrows furrowed. “My implant took the worst of the fall.”

  “Good.” Without further preamble, she slapped him across the face.

  “Hey!” he barked. “What was that for?”

  “Don’t you dare jump on a dragon’s back again. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Slowly, he pulled himself to a seated position. “Is that concern I detect, Ms. Grimm?”

  “Shut up, wenchwad.” She stood, hopped back on her skimmer, and kicked the engine on. “I’m going to get the others and check on Marzanna and Rora. Watch the dragon while I’m gone.”

  Without waiting for a response, she took to the sky.

  Why am I getting so worked up over Bastian Kabir?

  When she made it back to the cave, Abrecan and Thaniel sat—rather unhappily—beside Rora and Marzanna. Marzanna remained motionless on the ground. But Rora was upright, leaning against the wall. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and there were burns up her arm, but she was blessedly alive.

  Gwen rode her skimmer through the cave and directly to Rora.

  Kicking the engine off, she leaped down and kneeled before the acrobat. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine now that you’re here.” Rora managed a small smile, but Gwen could tell the other woman was in a world of pain.

  “What were you thinking, trying to distract the dragon like that?”

  Rora’s shoulders rose and fell, teeth sinking into her lower lip. “I wanted to help.”

  For an impossibly long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes, not saying a word.

  Something unspoken hovered in Rora’s eyes as they filled with tears. “I was scared of losing you, too.”

  Instantly, the moment in Rora’s room came to mind where Gwen had revealed why she’d wanted Rora to join another act after the horrors of the first competition. At that moment, she’d been vulnerable and told the acrobat the truth. She was scared of losing her.

  And Rora felt the same about her.

  Butterflies flitted through Gwen’s stomach, pushing past the fear and worry that had turned her thoughts black.

  Nodding, Gwen cupped Rora’s face. “I was scared, too.”

  Stars, she wanted to do this right, to move slowly with Rora. But as she looked at the acrobat, her eyes filled with longing and agony, Gwen found herself leaning down.

  Ever so slowly, she moved until their lips were nearly touching. Her eyes, one cyborg, one flesh, flickered back and forth between Rora’s—waiting, hoping.

  Then Rora leaned forward.

  The touch of her lips was ecstasy. It was as though a thousand dragon fires burned through Gwen at once, purging her of everything except for the desire for Rora. For more.

  It was a hungry, desperate kiss of lips and tongue and teeth. Rora’s human hand tangled in Gwen’s hair, and Gwen cupped Rora’s cheeks as she pulled her close. All Gwen could think of was the feel of Rora’s dark skin against hers, and how she longed for the time to learn every curve, every freckle, every scar. And Rora would have a few of those after today.

  All too soon, the kiss ended.

  Gwen pulled back. “I’ll get you fixed up as soon as I can. But right now, I need to check on Marzanna.”

  Rora nodded.

  As Gwen feared, Marzanna’s foot had been unable to handle the electrical current from the incorrect wires she had installed. There hadn’t been an electrical fire, but there’d been enough sparking to leave Marzanna’s entire body covered in burns.

  What have I done?

  Brushing the tears and guilt away—knowing both would consume her the moment she was alone—Gwen worked quickly. She replaced the wires with the proper ones she’d read about in the book from the Mistress’s library.

  Checking Marzanna’s vitals for the thousandth time, Gwen was relieved to feel a steady heartbeat, though it was far fainter than she’d like.

  Briefly, Gwen examined Rora’s hand. Now that the sparking had passed and the implant’s battery was dead, she wasn’t in danger of it happening again. But her body needed time to recover.

  Glancing toward the sky, Gwen knew they couldn’t stay here for long. If the performers were going to get back to the palace with the dragon before sunset, they’d have to start the journey back down the cliff and through the forest immediately.

  Gwen flew Marzanna down first, leaving her with Bastian, before returning to the cliff for Rora.

  “Aren’t we going to get a ride?” Abrecan called from where he climbed down the cliff.

  “Are we friends?” Gwen shot back.

  Once in the cave, she helped Rora stand on the skimmer behind her.

  As Rora wrapped her arms around Gwen’s waist, a sense of safety and belonging swelled in her chest. Images of the moment they’d shared before flitted across her mind. She forced herself to focus on the present as she flew as smoothly as she could, careful not to jostle Rora too much.

  After dropping Rora with Marzanna and Bastian, Gwen circled back to the cliff, checking for survivors.

  There weren’t any.

  Only a pile of broken bones and flesh lay at the base of the cliff. Scavengers were already picking at their bodies and circling in the skies overhead.

  When she returned, more performers had joined Bastian and the others. Abrecan and Thaniel stood at the head of the group, eyeing the dragon with nothing short of hunger.

  The truth of the matter was—Rora and Marzanna were in no shape to bring the dragon back themselves. And Gwen and Bastian couldn’t be seen helping them, for their own safety and for the safety of the performers. There was no saying what the Mistress would do to those who had… assistance in winning the competition.

  So, it was time they had a little chat with the other performers.

  Gwen placed herself between the group and the dragon, which was neatly tied up. It appeared as though Bastian had found vines to tie the beast’s front and back legs together and its mouth shut. There was also a makeshift net on the ground. To drag it, she realized.

  Removing the box with the remaining vial of anesthetic from her pocket, Gwen filled another syringe and held it up for everyone to see.

  “Listen up,” she shouted. “It’s time we lay some groundwork for how things are going to go for the rest of the competition.” She eyed Abrecan before gesturing to Bastian. “Thanks to our assistance and these handy little anesthetics, you now have a dragon willing to return to Apparatus. You’re. Fucking. Welcome. However, if the dragon is to remain docile, and if you don’t want the Mistress to learn you had no part in successfully luring the dragon from its lair, the Mistress will never know Bastian or I were here. And the victory will be shared.”

  Fists clenched, Bastian added, “If the Mistress learns we helped you, no one will win this competition, and all of your names
will be entered into the lottery.”

  And Bastian and I will have terminated contracts.

  She stuffed down the fear rising up her throat, careful to keep her expression neutral.

  Abrecan shook his head. “If I’m to drag its carcass back to Apparatus, then I’m going to claim the victory.”

  “Then I guess you won’t be needing this.” Squeezing the plunger, she sent some of the precious anesthetic pattering onto the dry ground.

  Hand outstretched, Abrecan stepped forward. “No!”

  “Do I have your attention?” When she stopped, the syringe still held most of its contents.

  The veins in Abrecan’s jaw bulged as he nodded. “I see you’ve chosen your friends, Ms. Grimm.”

  Briefly, Gwen’s gaze flicked to Rora, whose head hung limp between her knees where she rested on the ground.

  She turned to the group. “How many died on the mountaintop?”

  The performers spoke amongst themselves in soft whispers.

  At last, Thaniel said, “Eleven.”

  She nodded. “That means only two more acts have to be eliminated from among you. And a number of performers aren’t here at this moment. If you want my help and my silence, you will work together, and you will win together—and you won’t say a damned thing about Bastian or me. Understood?”

  Abrecan crossed his arms but said nothing.

  Bastian came to stand beside Gwen. “Do as she says, or there will be consequences.”

  A humorless smile traced Abrecan’s lips. “You’re lucky I know yours aren’t idle threats. Otherwise, I might think you were kidding.”

  “I don’t joke.”

  “Clearly.” Abrecan turned to Gwen. “You have a deal, Ms. Grimm.”

  After Gwen returned the vial to Bastian and he administered the second dose, Bastian, Abrecan, Thaniel, and several of the uninjured performers hauled the dragon onto the net. Meanwhile, Gwen went to help the injured, placing Marzanna on her skimmer.

  It took several hours to drag the dragon back to the city of Apparatus. During that time, Marzanna didn’t open her eyes once, though she clung to life.

 

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