Beauty and Beastly

by Melanie Karsak

  The ticking inside him slowed, and his optics dimmed.

  I lowered him slowly and carefully onto the table so I could have a better look at his leg. The piece that was giving him trouble was buried deep within the knee. I really needed my own tools. It was obvious the workshop had been thrown together by the automatons who were decidedly not tinkers. At the moment, however, what I most needed was a magnifying glass. I set down my tools and began hunting around the room. There was nothing on the table, so I started looking through the shelves. Those, too, turned up empty. I went to the enormous closet. Most of the previous contents of the study had been moved there. I looked through dust-covered boxes until I finally found a box that contained a magnification glass. It had been housed with a number of frames that contained specimens of butterflies. I was about to close the closet once more when I spotted an odd draped shape in one corner. Moving carefully, I remove the draping off what I had expected to be a statue or a suit of armor only to find another automaton.

  I gasped.

  The mech was a maid dressed in a similar fashion to Missus Silver. But something about her appearance gave her a youthful look. Like Missus Silver, her face was made of porcelain.

  I cast a glance at the door, then at Mister Flint. No harm in having a peek.

  I looked the automaton over. Her panel in the back was open. She’d shorted out. I studied her wiring and cogs. From what I could see, it looked like she’d gotten wet.

  I looked back at Mister Flint then at the maid. Tapping my finger on my chin as I thought, I left her for the moment and returned to work on Mister Flint. Working carefully, holding the magnifying glass in one hand and my tools in the other, I was able to remove the rusted piece from Mister Flint’s leg and replace it with another, newer—but not new—gear. Working carefully, I set the piece in place then oiled the joint. It took a few adjustments, but finally, his knee had better range of movement and no more squeak when I bent it.

  I then set my tools aside and eyed the maid once more. It felt like a pity to just leave her there. The least I could do was try.

  Leaving Mister Flint on the table, I returned to the closet. There, I found a wooden dolly. Working carefully, and grunting from the effort, I loaded the maid onto the dolly then wheeled her to the window so I could have a better look.

  Under the sunlight—though dim since a light raining was falling—I got a better look. As I had guessed, she had shorted out. A ton of her wires had corroded. It looked like someone had attempted to repair or replace her parts but had failed. I went to the workbench and fingered through the supplies there. Not much on hand.

  Then I remembered seeing a spool of wire in the hangar in the turret.

  Debating, I left both mechs and hurried up the stairs to the airship hangar. From somewhere deep in the castle, I heard Missus Silver and Rhys talking. Wincing, I knew I needed to be fast.

  I rushed up the steps to the turret, relieved to discover the door was unlocked. Moving quickly, I grabbed the spool of wire off the workbench. I then dug into the workbench drawers in search of a small screwdriver. I found plyers, bolts, and even an old compass, but no screwdriver. Digging in the very back of the last drawer, I unearthed a handful of paper, but alas, no screwdriver. I slipped the tools into my pocket, dropping the papers back into the drawer, but then I paused a moment. These were not just simple papers. They were letters addressed to Lord Rhys Llewellyn. On second thought, I slipped the letters into my pocket.

  I grinned. First, I would sneakily repair the broken automaton. When I was done, I would snoop through the mail. I was becoming very good at clandestine activities. One day, I would make a good busybody.

  Slipping out of the hangar, I headed downstairs. To my great relief, I spotted Missus Silver and Rhys through the window. While it was still raining, the pair was walking with an umbrella toward the east gate of the garden.

  I raced back to the workshop. My heart pounding in my chest, I closed the door behind me.

  Mister Flint still lay on the table. I felt great pity seeing him like that, but he’d have to wait just a bit longer.

  I grabbed a stool and settled in behind the maid.

  “Well, my dear. Let’s see what I can do for you,” I said then leaned in and got to work.

  Chapter 24: Reunions

  There was far more damage to the female automaton than I had initially thought. The rough tools in the workshop were below subpar—if there was such a thing—but after some work and a lot of muttered cursing, I finally replaced and reconnected the wires, cogs, and rusted-out pins. I then worked on the automaton’s joints, brushing out rust and oiling all of her parts. It took me the better part of two hours. Once I felt sure she was repaired as much as I could do, I tidied up her clothes and got her ready. Then, I considered what to do. I didn’t have her key. Now, I’d have to discover just how much I’d trespassed.

  I turned Mister Flint’s windup key, switching the mechanical back on.

  A series of clicks emanated form his chest, and he slowly came back to life.

  “Mister Flint, are you all right?” I asked, extending a hand to help him sit up.

  “Yes, yes. I think so. Good to shut down for a bit. Restful.”

  “I think the knee is repaired. Shall we give it a try? Easy standing up,” I said, taking both of his hands. Again, to my surprise, his metal was warm to the touch.

  He nodded then rose slowly.

  Guiding him, I helped him take a couple of steps. The knee bent perfectly.

  “Miss Hawking! You clever tinker, you have it! I can’t believe you—” He stopped cold when he saw the maid standing by the window.

  “I...I was looking in the closet for a magnifying glass when I found her. I hope it’s okay. I worked on her a bit. I believe she’s repaired now. I just didn’t have her key to test her.”

  Mister Flint turned and looked at me, his optics spinning. “She’s repaired?” I could hear the surprise in his voice.

  “I believe so, but I will need her key to restart her.”

  “Miss Hawking, are you quite serious? You’ve repaired her?”

  “I think so. I wasn't able to get a look at the cogs inside her head, but I was able to replace her core wires and refresh her joints. It looked like she got wet. Is that right?”

  “Yes. She was caught in the rain and shorted,” Mister Flint said then turned and picked up his jacket. From an interior pocket, he pulled out a key and handed it to me. He then slipped his shirt and coat back on as he watched me.

  Taking the windup key, I went to the mech and slipped her key inside the keyhole. It took several cranks to wind her. When I was done, I removed the key and stepped back.

  From deep within the automaton, I heard a series of clicking sounds. This was followed by a series of brief and halting movements as each limb seemed to come back to life. I heard the automaton’s optics spin, then she turned and looked from Mister Flint to me. She attempted to say something, but it took a moment for her voice box to work. When she did speak, her words puzzled me.

  “You. It’s you. Mister Flint, it’s her,” the automaton exclaimed, gesturing to me. “But...but if it’s her, why am I still like this?”

  “Oh my dear Bronwyn, it’s so good to have you back,” Mister Flint said, ignoring the question as he embraced the automaton. “Your mother has missed you so.”

  “Mother?” I asked.

  “Oh. Yes. Missus Silver is like a mother to her, you see,” Mister Flint said then a series of loud clicks emitted from his chest. The maid tilted her head as if to listen, and then she clicked in reply. Mister Flint answered her with another series of clicks.

  I frowned at Mister Flint. “It’s rude to talk behind my back.”

  Once again, I felt his embarrassment. “Oh! I’m very sorry, Miss Hawking. Yes, you’re quite right.”

  “Mistress, you repaired me? The last thing I remember was coming back from the beach, the rain, and then...nothing.”

  “You broke down, my dear. Miss Ha
wking has fixed you.”

  The automaton curtseyed to me. “Thank you, mistress.”

  “Look,” Mister Flint said, pointing out the window. Rhys and Missus Silver were walking back toward the castle door. I noticed that Rhys carried a small chest in one hand and hoisted an umbrella in the other. Missus Silver also carried an umbrella. A soft rain continued to fall.

  Without another word, the maid turned and ran out of the room.

  “Bronwyn, go slowly. Bronwyn, be careful,” Mister Flint called, rushing behind her, me rushing behind him. “I say, Miss Hawking, you’ve done a splendid job with this knee. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Rushing behind the mechanicals, I reached the foyer just as Missus Silver and Rhys stepped inside.

  “Mother,” Bronwyn yelled and ran to Missus Silver.

  Rhys stiffened, a look of surprise on his face. He stared at Bronwyn, who was hugging Missus Silver, then looked from Mister Flint to me.

  “Mister Flint?” he asked.

  “My lord, it’s all Miss Hawking’s doing. Quite by accident, she discovered Bronwyn in the workshop—we’d gone there to see about my knee—and she made a full repair!”

  “Oh, my dear! Oh, my dear,” Missus Silver said, holding the other automaton tightly. Tears of oil trailed down the automaton’s cheeks.

  The scene startled me. This was beyond the capacity of ethics boards, aether cores, or other clockworks. This was so much more.

  Kelly jumped excitedly all around the mechanical.

  The maid paused and petted the dog.

  “And how are you feeling?” Missus Silver asked Bronwyn. “Is everything working all right?”

  “I...I think so. Some of the gears are still a little stiff, but the oil is working its way through, loosening things up.

  Missus Silver left the young mechanical then crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me. Her body felt stiff, metallic under her worn gown, but there was a feeling of pure joy radiating from her. “Thank you, Miss Hawking.”

  “Of course.”

  “Master,” the girl said meekly, carefully embracing Rhys who gave her quick and polite embrace.

  “We’ve missed you, Bronwyn,” he told her then turned to me. “I’m in your debt,” he said, bowing to me.

  “Think nothing of it,” I said then smiled at the mechanicals.

  “Oh, you must excuse us, Miss Hawking. We need to find Mister Steele and Missus Smith and share the good news.”

  “And have you seen my knee?” Mister Flint said, following behind the two female automatons as they headed down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. “It bends perfectly. It didn’t even work this well before.”

  “What a blessed day,” Missus Silver said. “Let’s hope more blessings come our way,” she called over her shoulder, looking toward Rhys.

  He chuckled lightly.

  “They are very attached to one another,” I said as I watched them go.

  Rhys nodded. “Yes. I must thank you again. You have done us a great favor.”

  “You’re very welcome,” I said then looked down at my hands which were now covered in gear grease and rust. “Oh dear. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to wash up.”

  To my surprise, Rhys reached out and gently touched the bruise on my arm. It had turned an angry shade of purple with yellow around the edges of the bruise.

  “Please know how very sorry I am. I am mortified to see you in such a condition.”

  I looked up at the mechanical. A strange feeling swelled in my stomach as I took in the expression on his face. He looked so terribly sad. His plight moved me.

  “None of us are without imperfections,” I said. “It was an accident, and you are forgiven.”

  “Thank you, Miss Hawking.”

  I nodded then turned and headed up the stairs toward my bedchamber.

  “Miss Hawking?” Rhys called from behind me.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you like music?”

  “Music? Of course.”

  “Excellent,” Rhys said then bowed to me. He turned and followed the other automatons to the kitchen.

  Feeling confused, I headed back upstairs. My heart was beating hard, and there was a swelling feeling in my chest. I was so thrilled to have helped Bronwyn and Mister Flint. And it pleased me to no end to see Missus Silver so happy. But more than that, Rhys’s happiness moved me more than it should, more than reason dictated. He was just a machine, right? He was just a machine. And if he was nothing more than analytics and ethics boards, cogs, gears, and wires, then why did I feeling something for him?

  But I did.

  And the thought terrified me.

  Chapter 25: A Tale as Old As Time

  Alone in my chamber, I washed up then locked the door and sat down on my bed. I pulled the yellowed letters from my pocket.

  The first letter to Lord Rhys Llewellyn detailed supplies that would be sent from Wales to the castle in the coming months. A rich bounty of wines, meats, textiles, and even livestock was detailed. The bill, it seemed, had already been paid in full. But what was of interest to me was the date: 1726. Almost one hundred years ago. I stared at the name on the paper: Lord Rhys Llewellyn. Had the lord named his automaton after himself? I also noted that nowhere in that supply list did I see any indication of supplies of a clockwork sort.

  I thumbed to the next letter which was from Master Archibald Boatswain. As Papa had rightly guessed, the famed inventor had been connected to this place. His message was brief, indicating that he planned to come with his “little gift” in the coming weeks. The tone of the letter was very familiar, as if he and the lord—now, was it Lord Rhys the elder or the boy in the painting—were friends.

  I set the letter aside and opened the final piece of mail. This message was far more formal in nature. It had come from a silver mining company in England. It detailed the plans, down to the number of laborers, pieces of equipment, and tools that would be brought to the Isle of Annwfn for work and construction of the Annwfn mine.

  I stared at the letter. A silver mine. That’s what I’d discovered? I frowned. Then why the secrecy?

  There was a knock at the door. “Miss Hawking?” Missus Silver called.

  I shoved the letters under my pillow then rose to answer the door. “Yes?” I replied, opening the door.

  Missus Silver entered carrying my yellow ballgown. “I took the liberty of washing it. It’s been drying by the fire. I had to mend a few spots, but the dress is all back in order. Lord Rhys... Lord Rhys would like to do something special to thank you for restoring Bronwyn to us. He has a dinner and some music planned if you will join him. A formal affair. I’d love to see you in this gown, my dear.”

  “A formal dinner?”

  “Yes.”

  “And music?”

  “Yes. In our ballroom.”

  “You have a ballroom?”

  “Indeed we do. The most beautiful ballroom in all of Wales. Do you accept Lord Rhys’s invitation?”

  “I... Of course.”

  “Very good,” Missus Silver said then turned to go.

  “Missus Silver,” I called. “You refer to the automaton as Lord Rhys, the same name as the owner of this castle.”

  Missus Silver’s lids lifted, her optics shining brightly. She smiled. “Yes, I do,” she said then turned and left, leaving me to stare at the door in her wake.

  MY HANDS SHOOK NERVOUSLY as I slid on the yellow ball gown. It was quite silly, really, feeling so nervous. What was there to be worried about? I had done something to help the mechanicals, and they found a way to thank me the best they knew how.

  Adjusting the dress, I sat down and looked into the vanity mirror. I smoothed my hair back once more. I’d styled it as Elyse Murray often wore her hair. Then I adjusted the small bumblebee hairpin in my hair—its cousin gifted to the fairies. I dabbed some perfume on my neck. By now, the Scottish lord who Papa and I had traveled to meet was already married. I’d missed that wedding. The
ball gown was going to go to waste. At the very least, I would enjoy dressing up for just one night.

  I adjusted the off-the-shoulder sleeves of my dress then pulled on my long, yellow gloves. Even my pair of heeled silk dancing slippers had survived in the box. I was suddenly very grateful for them. It would not due to wear traveling boots under a ball gown.

  I took a deep breath, steadied my nerve, then rose and headed to the stairwell.

  To my surprise, all of the candelabras in the main foyer had been lit, even the massive chandelier that hung overhead. The hall, which had seemed so dim before, was bathed in orange light. Everything felt so cheery and alive.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Mister Flint, Missus Silver, Bronwyn, Missus Smith, the cook, and Mister Steele, another of the servants, stood waiting. All of them were dressed in their finest. It pleased me to see Missus Silver with her arm wrapped around Bronwyn’s waist.

  And alongside them was Rhys who was dressed in a handsome suit. He wore a dark blue doublet trimmed with gold embroidery, a white silk collar, breeches and leggings, and boots. His metallic face glimmered as if it had been polished.

  My stomach rocked with butterflies the size of ravens.

  Isabelle, you’re being ridiculous. He’s just a machine.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the ladies curtseyed, the men bowed.

  Rhys offered his arm.

  I linked my arm with his, and we moved down the hallway opposite that which led to the library. At the end of this hall was a set of double doors.

  Mister Flint opened the doors to reveal a massive ballroom.

  The place was bathed in light. The hardwood floor made of a light-colored timber gleamed. The walls were painted white and fixed with gold sconces and trim. A table had been set up for dinner. On the table were vases of wildflowers.

  Rhys pulled out a chair for me, but I paused a moment when I spotted a piano sitting in the corner.

  “Is that a pneumatic piano?” I asked, staring at the rare music piece.