Skyborn

by Eric Asher

  “Archibald didn’t say anything to you?” Jacob asked.

  Mary didn’t answer, and that told him all he needed to know. Maybe he could talk Archibald into using some of the supply ships to move people too.

  “Archibald must choose his priorities,” Smith said. “And those priorities will not always agree with your goals.”

  Jacob knew that, but he also knew Archibald wanted weapons. Though Jacob didn’t favor the idea, if it would save lives of those traveling between the cities, he could be persuaded. Or perhaps, more accurately, he thought he could persuade Archibald. But another idea stirred in the back of his mind. The Titan Mech arm might have more than one use. If they mounted it on something that could climb the frame of an airship dock, the construction in both Dauschen and Ancora could be accelerated.

  Jacob pondered those thoughts as Bollwerk appeared on the horizon, the great rusted walls shielding the towering metropolis of bronze and stone and copper from the worst the Deadlands had to offer.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Furi listened to the clock ticking on the wall above her. She knew she was a prisoner of Belldorn, but her mind was having a hard time reconciling the comfort around her with prison.

  She wore no chains, and there were no prison bars to speak of. And the woman, Eva, had checked on her more than once. She’d even returned Furi’s backpack once it had been searched for weapons. There were others from Ballern around her, some bandaged, some recovering, but all provided for.

  Furi dipped her fork into the strange mashed fruit and took another bite. At first, she’d assumed this was their ritual before executing their prisoners, but every time the woman Eva returned, she swore that Furi and her compatriots would not be harmed.

  But why take prisoners if not to interrogate them? If not to make an example of them? Furi knew the stories of the savagery of Belldorn. She knew that to be captured was a death sentence.

  Her eyes trailed back to the long rows of bookshelves, crowded with more tomes than she could read in a lifetime. And they were here, for their prisoners?

  Beck sat at a table near the corner, a checkered gameboard between him and his opponent. Furi wasn’t familiar with the game. Pieces started along the edge of all four sides and were only allowed to move in certain directions. It sounded something like chess, but her focus slipped when one of their guards was explaining it.

  Furi pressed her palms into her eyes and squeezed. It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. They were treating prisoners better than Ballern treated their own soldiers. She took a deep breath and finished her lunch. A short time later, she picked up a small book she’d started the night before and made her way back to a private room that was little larger than a closet.

  But it was hers and hers alone, with no cellmates to pester or threaten to kill.

  So she returned to the story about a boy and his reptile companion, a tale that took them through the Dragonwing Mountains and across the world to the ruin of a city that had once been the heart of the Deadlands. It was a sad tale, rife with loss and longing and the barest thread of hope.

  And it had been written by someone from Belldorn. Belldorn. At first, as Furi spoke to the guards and nurses in Belldorn’s prison, she feared they were merely manipulating her, trying to scrape out as much information as they could before executing them all. Beck had felt the same in the beginning.

  But day after day passed, and no threats came. No violence. The guards only defended themselves if attacked, and even then, they did not kill the Ballern soldiers. They restrained them and locked them in their private rooms until they agreed to be calm. And it was only that, a promise! Still, they were not bound, not shackled to some immovable object.

  Furi took a sip of an odd drink that bubbled when it touched her lips. It had a sweetness to it that was not unwelcome. She paused at the end of the book and peered out through the small square window of her room. For she did think of it as a room by then, and no longer a cell. And that change in perspective led her to a truth she could not escape. The horrors she’d been raised to believe about Belldorn weren’t true. They were lies of the most heinous kind.

  Furi turned away from the vision of brilliant gray towers and glimmering seas. Hatred of Belldorn was such a key part of everything Ballern’s children were taught. If those stories weren’t true, then maybe the misgivings she’d had about her own leaders weren’t so far off. Maybe that horrible, unsettled feeling she’d carried in her heart for the past year was because her heart knew the truth.

  Tears threatened the corners of her eyes as she curled up on her bed and slept once more.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jacob held his hand outside the crawler, feeling the wind’s resistance as they shot down the streets of Bollwerk. It was odd to be back in the city. It hadn’t been long since they’d been there, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

  The crawler slowed at the towering building that housed the Speaker and his people. But perhaps more importantly, the building housed Smith’s workshop.

  “You better go see Archibald first,” Mary said. “You’re on his good side. It’s easier to stay there, even if you don’t particularly like everything he has to say.”

  “Good advice!” their driver said as they all hopped out of the crawler.

  Mary tossed him two coins as a tip and the driver nodded, pulling away once they had all their packs unloaded. The group made its way into the eight-story building through a polished copper archway that waited behind iron-braced doors.

  The Council Hall didn’t fail to impress. Open as the first four floors were, Jacob could see a handful of people wandering about above them. Mary led Jacob and the others to the lift, gated with the symbol of the Steamsworn, that would take them to Archibald.

  Jacob remembered the first time he’d seen the risers in those halls, some ten rows deep, flanking the three tiers of the grand bench in the center. It made him feel small and inconsequential, which he supposed was exactly the point.

  Only one man waited in those chambers today, seated behind one of the heavy benches as he scrawled something with a small pen. Archibald glanced up at the sound of the lift closing. He smiled and went back to writing for a moment before setting the pen down and coming to the floor to greet them.

  Archibald never looked out of sorts. His hair was immaculate, as were his broad mustache and exquisitely tailored coat. The only thing that surprised Jacob now was the Steamsworn Fist pinned to his lapel as if he’d always worn it for all the world to see. The Steamsworn were shunned by many for their hand in the Deadlands War, and even their monuments were hidden from the public eye. For the Speaker to wear something as bold as that pin took Jacob by surprise.

  “Jacob, Alice, it’s good to see you all.” Archibald opened his arms wide before rubbing his hands together.

  “Thanks for sending Mary and Smith,” Jacob said.

  “Of course, of course.” He offered a small smile and nodded to Mary. “I do appreciate you going out of your way.”

  “For the kids,” Mary said, her voice somewhat flat.

  Archibald grimaced, but let the comment pass. “Now, Jacob, tell me what it is you need our workshop for?”

  So Jacob did, detailing his ideas for the glider designs, the bolt cannon, which he briefly demonstrated with his prototype, as well as his idea for using the designs of the Titan Mech for construction equipment.

  Archibald nodded along with Jacob’s explanations, only interrupting to clarify something here and there. When Jacob was done, Archibald spoke again.

  “You are welcome to the workshops. And what tinkers are not already engaged can help with whatever you need.” Archibald rubbed his chin. “Where did you find the schematics for a Titan Mech?”

  “Charles’s old workshop in the observatory.” Jacob opened his backpack and pulled out a journal, handing it to Archibald.

  “Oh my.” Archibald gently turned a few pages. “I have not seen this in a very long time.” He raised his eyes to Jacob a
nd smiled before handing the journal back. “Take good care of that. It won more than one battle in its time.”

  “I will.”

  “Now, you are all welcome to stay here. There are dorms in the towers, or you’re welcome to use a cot in the workshop.”

  “I’ll be leaving with Smith and Alice in the morning,” Mary said. “We have business in Belldorn.”

  Archibald inclined his head. “Please, take your things to the workshop and make yourself at home. I am happy to provide whatever food you may like.”

  “Thank you, Speaker,” Alice said.

  Archibald gave her a wide smile. “Call me Archibald. We have no need for such formalities now.”

  “Come with me, Jacob,” Smith said. “I want to take a closer look at that bolt cannon. I think the tinkers in Belldorn would be happy to assist with the design.”

  They waved to Archibald as they returned to the lift.

  “You think Theodosia will help?” Alice asked as the lift descended to the first floor.

  “I do. She has a good heart, and I think she will appreciate what Jacob is trying to do, using Charles’s designs for something good.”

  Jacob didn’t think he had been so obvious with that strategy. But if Smith had realized it so quickly, it was likely others would too. He supposed that was okay, as the only people who might think he was weak because of it were those he would most like to avoid.

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Alice reached out and squeezed Jacob’s arm.

  Jacob smiled. He didn’t put much stock in the opinions of many people, but he valued Alice’s.

  They exited the lift and turned right, heading toward Smith’s workshop. Jacob had been there enough times he thought he might have grown accustomed to the rich décor, but he still found himself studying every copper etching as they passed it.

  The door to Smith’s workshop stood open when they reached it, and a small man with white hair was hunched over the workbench. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Smith and the others.

  “Frederick?” Smith asked. “I would have thought you would be in Belldorn.”

  “No. After your story of Targrove and his work with biomechanics, I had to come see the city for myself.”

  “And Theo?”

  “I doubt she will ever be too far from Lady Katherine. You can find her in Belldorn if you need her.” Frederick paused and searched his pockets, handing over a small folded piece of paper. “One of Archibald’s people delivered a transmitter to the tinkers. Should you have need.”

  Jacob looked at the small scrap of paper as Smith unfolded it. A series of letters and numbers was scrawled across it, the frequency for the transmitter.

  Smith tucked the paper into his pocket and glanced at Jacob. “The workshop is yours. Whatever you need, Archibald will get it for you.”

  “That’s awfully confident of you,” Mary said.

  Smith grinned. “Frederick, this is Jacob and Alice. Friends of mine, and people you can trust.”

  Frederick crossed his arms. “I like to make up my own mind about people I can trust.”

  “Me too,” Jacob said.

  “Jacob,” Alice whispered.

  But Frederick cast the pair a sly smile. “Well then, Master Tinker, if you need an assistant, I would be happy to help. You won’t be working on anything biomechanical by chance, will you? I find myself rather curious.”

  Jacob knocked on his leg, the hollow metal thud filling the room.

  Frederick raised an eyebrow. “I have known you for such a short time, and yet you have introduced me to some of the most fascinating people and ideas. I appreciate that.”

  Smith looked down at Jacob. “Don’t let him take your leg off.”

  Jacob started to laugh, but Smith didn’t smile.

  Alice and Jacob sat their backpacks down on a bench adjacent to Frederick’s. It was a relief to have the weight off, and Alice rubbed her shoulders.

  “Do you have an idea of what we need to do?” Smith asked Jacob.

  Jacob pulled out one of Charles’s notebooks. “I bookmarked the design. I think if we scale it down by half, we’ll be able to use it to rebuild the walls.”

  Smith spread the page out and studied it. He nodded to himself, going down the list of materials Charles documented. “Some of this would be unnecessarily durable. I think we can use lighter metals to decrease the load by half.”

  “Some of those stones it needs to pick up will be enormous.”

  “The braces will need to be reinforced, and we will need an extra set of cogs in the joints, but I doubt armored plating will be necessary.”

  “How long are you boys going to be?” Mary asked.

  “An hour or two,” Smith said. “Let us work up a prototype, and then we can get some food.”

  Mary blinked at Smith. “It’s unnerving when you do that. Stay out of my head. It makes me feel like I’ve known you too long.”

  Smith’s smile only widened with Mary’s protests. Maybe they had known each other a little too long. It was a kind of sibling rivalry, and Jacob bit his tongue to avoid laughing at them.

  “Then Belldorn tomorrow?” Alice asked.

  “Returning to Belldorn?” Frederick asked, looking up at Smith from a tangle of wires.

  “You’re welcome to come if you’d like,” Smith said.

  Frederick shook his head. “As I said, I want to learn more about your biomechanics. There is precious little information to be found on that in Belldorn.”

  “Frederick,” Alice said, waiting for the old tinker to focus on her. “If I wanted to find books on the beginning of the Deadlands War, where would those be?”

  “The Crown Library, of course. Any book published in Belldorn has a copy made for the royal library. You’ll have to do your research inside the building. They’ll let anyone explore the old place, but you can’t leave with any of the books.”

  “Thanks!”

  Jacob recognized the look on Alice’s face. There was an edge of excitement, much like the expression she’d worn when they found the abandoned bookstore beneath Ancora. He smiled and turned back to the schematics.

  Smith was already reducing the measurements for every bolt, brace, gasket, and tube, wasting no time at all.

  Alice settled into one of the few padded chairs in the corner and started reading while Mary explored the wall of spare parts and gadgets set up across the rear of the workshop.

  One thing Jacob was sure of: when they were done, he was going to be ready for food.

  * * *

  It wasn’t until Jacob heard the snores from the cots in the workshop’s corner that he realized how late it had gotten. They’d had a dinner of fish and rice that made him long for The Fish Head, even though he knew Gladys and George weren’t there.

  But when Jacob discovered the problems the arm would have when rotating with a heavy load, he hadn’t been able to disconnect from the project. Instead, he spent hours swapping out parts, trying to get the prototype Smith had helped him build to pivot without falling.

  Once he understood that would only be possible if the weight was centered, he took a new approach. Jacob removed the arm at the joint and replaced it with a ratchet that could spin in a complete circle.

  The prototype was only a couple feet in length, while the final build would need to be almost the size of a crawler. Jacob’s main concern was that he had never seen a ratcheting mechanism of that size. They’d have to fabricate it, and that would take time.

  The door to the workshop squeaked open, and Jacob was surprised when Archibald appeared.

  “You’re still awake,” Archibald whispered.

  Jacob nodded. “We almost have the prototype working.” He turned back to tightening the screws that would anchor the arm to the new ratchet. The ingot of lead they were using for testing should be an accurate stand-in for the stone blocks Ambrose was using, if Smith’s calculations were correct.

  He pushed two of the small hydraulic levers forward, and the ratchet spun
, clicking as the miniature hand of the Titan Mech rotated. Another lever brought the hand down to the lead. A twist of a knob caused the fingers to wrap around the lead, and Jacob pulled a hydraulic lever back.

  The arm pivoted until it was nearly upright. Jacob turned the ratchet and let the arm fold in the opposite direction. It didn’t tip over this time; instead, the base held firm, and the ingot gently clicked against its target.

  Jacob flopped back against his seat. “It worked.”

  Archibald crossed his arms. “You designed and built that in a day?”

  “Sort of. We had Charles’s notes to work off.” He looked back at Archibald.

  “Jacob, when the others have left for Belldorn, I would like for you to find me. I’d like to talk to you about the happenings in Dauschen and things we could do to help them.”

  “They’re leaving tomorrow. Well, in a few hours, so it shouldn’t be long.”

  Archibald inclined his head. “Frederick and some of Bollwerk’s own tinkers can help build more of your design after you have refined it. Now, get some rest. I am afraid there are hard times yet ahead.”

  Archibald didn’t say anything more before he left the workshop, and Jacob stared at the door long after he closed it.

  “What was that about?”

  Jacob almost shouted at the unexpected voice, juggling the wrench in his hand and barely catching it before it clattered to the ground. “Alice. A little warning next time.”

  “You mean other than my whispering?” She raised an eyebrow.

  Jacob grinned at her. “I don’t know exactly. He said he wants to talk about what’s happening in Dauschen.”

  Alice tapped her chin. “Interesting. It can’t hurt to talk to him. But be careful what you agree to.”

  Jacob nodded in agreement.

  “He did say one smart thing. Let’s get some rest.”

  Jacob didn’t fight the yawn. He stretched his back and shuffled over to the leather couch, propping his feet up on a toolbox. Alice followed him over, dragging a blanket to where she curled up next to him. Jacob smiled and put his arm around her. He didn’t think he’d be able to rest much, but sleep came easily.