Clockwork Secrets

by Dru Pagliassotti

  Amcathra’s jaw tightened. Taya shot Dautry a dark look and took his arm, tugging him to one side.

  “Just ignore her, Captain,” she murmured. “She doesn’t understand what it means to serve the Oporphyr Council.”

  “I have not failed to notice that within the last month the principessa, my navigator, and your husband have all questioned my trustworthiness,” Amcathra grated, his hands clenched tightly around the scarf. “Despite my heritage and my nephew’s bad choices, I have never sought to be anything but a loyal citizen of Ondinium.”

  “I know.” Taya felt a surge of compassion for the proud lictor. “It’s not your fault. The Council has put us all into some morally awkward situations, hasn’t it?”

  “I cannot command a crew that does not trust me.”

  “Your crew does trust you, and so do Cris and I. Dautry’s just—” Taya hesitated, thinking of the things the professor had said about the captain. “She’s foreign, and she’s used to a different way of doing things. I honestly think she wants to trust you. She just doesn’t understand putting duty first.”

  “Putting duty first is not a habit I wish to change.”

  “Of course not. Nobody’s asking you to.” She decided it was time to change the subject. “But you can’t do your duty if you’re about to pass out wearing a wool uniform on a tropical island, so let’s get you something to wear.”

  It took some time, but finally Taya convinced the lictor that his health was more important than his uniform and was able to ask Liliana and Sankau to help him find several changes of clothes. While he grimly sorted through the garments the giggling girls brought over, Taya pulled Dautry aside.

  “Whether you decide to trust Amcathra or not,” she whispered, “please don’t criticize his tattoo. That tattoo and his undercover work with the sheytatangri both contributed to his nephew’s death.”

  Dautry blinked, her stern expression softening.

  “His nephew was the young lictor— Rikard, right? I met him briefly on the trip out of Mareaux. I thought he’d died in the train wreck.”

  “It wasn’t quite that simple.” Taya still felt a deep sense of guilt for her part in Rikard’s death. “And… it was an especially personal tragedy for the captain.”

  “Then I won’t bring it up again.” Dautry looked down at her armful of maps with a pensive expression. “It’s none of my business what Captain Amcathra does, anyway.”

  * * *

  “Taya!” Cristof jumped up, his gaze frankly admiring as she walked through the courtyard garden. He’d been sitting on the wooden walkway outside their bedroom, enjoying the sun and sipping from a shallow ceramic cup. “Is that your new flight suit?”

  “What do you think?” She turned on the stone path, grinning as she showed off her Cabisi clothes.

  “You look lovely.” He leaned over the wooden railing to give her a kiss. “Will that fabric be thick enough under your armature?”

  “I bought more layers to wear when I actually go flying.” She raised her eyebrows as she smelled his breath. “What have you been drinking?”

  “Something made out of fermented tree sap. Justiciar Xu assured me it’s very light.”

  “Maybe,” she said, climbing the steps and picking up the ceramic carafe beside his cushion, “but you’ve almost emptied the bottle.”

  “Without you by my side I have nothing better to do but drink away my solitude.”

  “You are definitely tipsy.” She cocked her head, amused. “But somewhat more charming than usual.”

  “I live to delight you.” He retrieved the carafe and sat down. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “We dropped Dautry off at the ship with her new charts and the others are getting their shopping off the ’cycle. Captain Amcathra has a new problem for us.”

  “Oh, no. Should I go to the kitchen and ask for another bottle?”

  “Just sit there and look stern.” She stepped into the bedroom and began unlatching her armature.

  “Is his problem urgent?” Cristof asked, turning to watch her. “I could give you some help with that….”

  “Whatever you’re drinking, I’m ordering a bottle for dinner.” She grinned as she tugged her armature over to a support column and padlocked it in place. “Go away. Nothing else is coming off.”

  “I th—” he stopped abruptly, distracted. She joined him on the walkway. The two girls were headed to Liliana’s room, loaded down with baskets, and Captain Amcathra was crossing the walkway toward them, his Ondinium uniform folded under one arm.

  For a moment the two men stared at each other, Cristof absorbing the lictor’s fresh injuries.

  “Did you win?” he asked at last.

  “The Cabisi intervened.”

  “Alzanans?”

  “With Mercate Corundel.”

  Cristof swore.

  “Sit down, Captain.” Taya pulled the second sitting cushion out of their bedroom. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  By the time she returned with a large carafe and several glasses, Amcathra had related the story to Cristof. She set down the tray and poured water for them all.

  “What’s involved in one of these duels?” Cristof asked. “Is a Cabisi duel like an Alzanan vendetta?”

  “I think Cabisi duels are faster,” Taya said. “Alzanan vendettas last forever, but the Cabisi meet, fight, and settle the matter.”

  “For good?”

  “Xu said the justiciars allow new challenges on the same subject as long as the new challenger isn’t related to the first. I guess that prevents the kind of Family feuding you get in Alzana. Are you going to let him fight? I think it’s a bad idea.”

  “Maybe, but I agree with Janos that Corundel needs to be arrested. I’ll write the Alzanan captain a letter, but I don’t expect him to hand her over without a fight. Honor is everything to those people.”

  Taya drew in a deep breath.

  “Whatever happens, you can’t participate, Cris. You’re the ambassador of Ondinium, and an exalted, and you weren’t there in the first place.”

  “As a representative of the Oporphyr Council, I do have an interest in apprehending Corundel,” he countered. “And I was certainly there during the invasion. In chains, as you might recall.”

  “You can’t uncover for a duel in front of a bunch of Alzanan soldiers while you’re acting as an ambassador to Cabiel.”

  “I don’t give a damn about covering, and you know it. I want Corundel brought back to Ondinium and put on trial!”

  “I agree with your wife, Exalted,” Amcathra intervened. “My duty to protect you extends to keeping you safe from the repercussions of my own actions. I take full responsibility for this challenge; it is between me and Corundel.”

  “Listen, Janos… I’ve done my best to be patient with all of your ‘exalted’ this and ‘exalted’ that, but don’t start treating me like a child.”

  “I am treating you like the esteemed member of Ondinium’s ruling caste that you are.” Amcathra didn’t flinch under Cristof’s glare. “I realize that you place no value on yourself or your birthright, but those of us who have dedicated our lives to you and your service do not feel the same way.”

  Cristof made a frustrated noise, yanking off his glasses and pinching the arch of his nose. Taya gave the lictor a grateful smile. That statement was as close as Amcathra had ever come to a declaration of friendship, and her husband knew it.

  “We need to talk to Xu,” Cristof growled at last, replacing his glasses.

  * * *

  Xu counseled patience. So, the next morning, Taya accompanied Cristof on a tour of Os Cansai’s largest boatmaking factory, where her husband was intrigued by the steam-powered paddleboats used for inter-island cargo transport. That afternoon, they visited a toymaker who specialized in clockwork automata. Taya enjoyed the second visit more, remembering th
e little windup birds her husband had shown her the first time she’d visited his shop. Cristof seemed to enjoy it, too, spending several hours talking with the toymaker in a pidgin of Alzanan, Cabisi, and Mareaux, facilitated by lots of hand gestures and two bottles of palm wine.

  The next day they took a quadracycle beyond the city borders to visit the beautiful Pearl Temple complex. White-robed novices pulling water from a well dropped their buckets and scrambled into the temple as they arrived. Minutes later, a group of priests and priestesses hurried out to greet their foreign visitors. Taya had to mention the taboo against touching an exalted when the youngest novice reached out to touch Cristof’s heavy robe, but she knelt so the children could freely investigate her armature and wings. The priests and priestesses invited them into the temple and located a young man who spoke Mareaux. He bowed deeply in the Cabisi style.

  “We are honored by your visit,” he said, gazing at the covered and masked ambassador with open curiosity. “You are the first Ondiniums to ever enter our temple.”

  “We came here to see your Dancer,” Taya said. “Exalted Forlore is a great admirer of automata.”

  “Then please, follow me.” He led them through the courtyard past a number of smaller buildings to the largest structure in the back.

  “Are you a priest?” Taya asked. He looked back, realized he was outpacing them, and slowed to match their exacting progress.

  “No; I am a kattaka.” He gestured to his waist, where he wore two belts, one holding a beautiful jeweled knife and the other made of thin, flexible metal.

  “What do you do here?”

  “Kattaka are guardians. We protect the temple against invasion, bodyguard our clergy outside the temple grounds, and protect the sacred treasures when they travel from the temple for ceremonies.”

  “Do you fight duels?”

  “Yes, if challenges arise against members of the temple who cannot fight for themselves, or against the temple as an organization. Fortunately, that seldom occurs.”

  As they entered the great temple, the kattaka pointed to the mother-of-pearl inlay that gave the building its name and drew their attention to the ornately carved screens that divided the space, each gilded and inlaid with gems. Taya was impressed. Ondinium’s churches to the Lady of the Forge seemed spartan by comparison.

  As they passed the last screen, she froze and stared up at the giant bronze statue that towered over them on its tall stone altar. The Dancer was easily four times the size of a human, its clothes made of silk and its jewelry rare and expensive. The statue’s hinged joints were supported by narrow black rods that rose from the altar. The rods were all but invisible against the altar’s dark backdrop.

  Approach, Cristof signaled.

  “May we draw nearer?” Taya asked. “The ambassador would like a better look.”

  “Of course.” The kattaka ushered them forward. The altar was nearly as tall as Taya and covered by small candles and bowls of incense.

  “Is lighting candles a devotion you follow, too?” she asked.

  “It is a means of honoring the Dancer, yes.”

  “May I light one?”

  “Of course.” He left and Cristof signaled that Taya should walk him back and forth for a better look. As they paced, she heard a low click from the altar. She looked up. Had the Dancer’s arm shifted? She couldn’t tell for certain, but she thought it might have.

  The kattaka returned with a candle and explained the Cabisi ritual. Taya followed his directions, then clapped her hands and added an Ondinium bow.

  Lady, she prayed, I’m sure the Dancer is one of your manifestations, so please accept my prayer while I’m here. Please protect Jayce and everyone else we left behind in Alzana, or grant them fortunate rebirths if they… if they’re already dead.

  A lump rose in her throat. She returned to Cristof, sliding her arm under his hand. He squeezed her arm gently, then tapped out his next request: Information.

  The statue, they were told, was controlled by a simple mechanism inside the altar that moved it incrementally every hour on the hour, so that over the course of a year the Dancer completed a Cabisi dance of blessing. It had been built sixty years ago and still functioned flawlessly. The temple counted several highly skilled engineers among its religious who had learned how to clean and maintain the engine without interfering with its sacred dance.

  “Would it be bad luck if it stopped?” Taya asked. The kattaka shrugged.

  “Some may believe so, but the statue is only a machine, neither holy nor eternal.” His face lit as he thought of a comparison. “This statue is for Cabiel perhaps what the Great Engine is for Ondinium. You do not worship the engine, correct?”

  Yes, Cristof tapped. Taya wasn’t sure whether he meant yes, Ondinium did worship the Great Engine, or yes, it didn’t. She decided to split the difference.

  “Some people consider the Engine infallible,” she said, “but the rest understand that it’s only as accurate as the people who write its programs and input its data. So no, we don’t worship it.”

  “So.” The kattaka nodded with satisfaction. “This statue is similar.”

  Cristof was disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t be allowed to peer into the altar to study its workings. Nevertheless, by the end of the tour he seemed enthusiastic about going back to Ondinium to tinker in his own workshop again.

  When they returned to Xu’s house, they learned that Amcathra had kept himself busy on the ship, overseeing repairs and consulting with Professor Dautry on the fastest return route. Liliana had explored the city with Sankau and her friends and discovered that the ship’s captain was a Fiore, a traditional ally of the Mazzolettis. She resigned herself to the fact that she’d be traveling with the Firebrand a while longer.

  On the third afternoon they were summoned to the Hall of Justice to hear the Impeccable Justiciary’s verdict. Also present were Captain Fiore, his lieutenant, the three crew members who’d been involved in the brawl, and Patrice Corundel. Taya was secretly relieved that their presence meant Cristof wouldn’t be able to unmask. Captain Amcathra and Lieutenant Imbrex attended with the exalted. Liliana and Professor Dautry remained on the floor, standing with the other interested spectators, both Cabisi and foreign.

  “The essence of the complaint is as follows,” Xu said in Cabisi. Next to her, another justiciar translated her words into Alzanan. “Janos Amcathra, a ship’s captain and lictor from Ondinium, wishes to arrest and deport Patrice Corundel, a mercate from Ondinium currently in the employ of the Alzanan Family Mazzoletti. Lucco Fiore, a ship’s captain from Alzana, claims Corundel is part of his ship’s complement and refuses to turn her over for arrest. Are these facts correct?”

  Both Amcathra and Fiore confirmed them, giving each other cool, evaluating gazes. Captain Fiore was a handsome man whose long black hair was pulled back in a thick queue. He wore a uniform adorned with masses of gold braid, numerous shiny brass buttons, and two enormous epaulettes, and he carried a smart hat tucked under one arm. By comparison, Captain Amcathra looked markedly shabby in his unornamented and hatless black lictor’s uniform, his hard-edged face covered with old scars and new bruises beneath a utilitarian blond crew cut.

  “The Impeccable Judiciary is in no position to evaluate whether Patrice Corundel belongs to the Ondinium contingent or the Alzanan ship. It seems clear to us, however, that she is still an Ondinium citizen, as her castemark remains intact.”

  Startled, Corundel touched the crescent tattoo over her right cheek.

  “Thus, the ambassador Exalted Forlore, as the official representative of his government, has a right to expect Corundel’s obedience. Therefore, as we have documentation from both sides agreeing to comply with Cabisi law and abide by the ruling of the justiciars in the case of an indeterminate conclusion, the Impeccable Judiciary approves Captain Amcathra’s challenge. Justiciar Ra Tafar is to observe the Ondinium faction, and Jus
ticiar Tu Jinian the Alzanan faction, for the duration of the challenge.”

  The two justiciars bowed to Xu and then to the captains of their chosen sides. Each captain returned the bow in his country’s individual style.

  “Because neither faction is familiar with the laws of our land, the Impeccable Justiciary hereby confines this challenge to a specified time, date, and area, for the safety of the combatants and the general populace. Tomorrow morning at 6 a.m. the two captains must take their airborne vessels outside of the Os Cansai harbor but no more than three miles from the island’s coast and proceed with their duel using any matter of handheld or simple projectile weapon, or the ships themselves, but abstaining from the use of chemical weaponry, serpentfire cannon, or any other weapon of mass destruction. Justiciars Ra and Tu will determine the acceptability of any weapon’s usage under these guidelines in consultation with the captains and crew members.”

  The audience murmured.

  “The victorious ship is that which first renders its opponent helpless, as the justiciars determine, or forces the other ship to leave the combat zone. Because justiciars are aboard as observers, destroying the enemy ship is not permissible. Violating these rules or ignoring a justiciar’s ruling during the challenge is punishable by the automatic loss of the challenge.

  “The victor wins the right to claim Patrice Corundel. The other side agrees to take no further action to rescue or retrieve her while within the boundaries of the Cabisi Thassalocracy, on land or water or in the air. In turn, the victor must treat Corundel with respect and humanity. If Ondinium wins this challenge, it agrees to abide by Cabisi requirements for the humane treatment and maintenance of a prisoner. Should the Impeccable Justiciary learn at any time that Corundel is not safe or well as a prisoner, Cabiel must cease all trade and political relations with Ondinium. Does everybody understand?”

  “Just a minute, please,” Taya said as Cristof painstakingly tapped out a question. She took a deep breath as she translated his brief query into something more suitably phrased.

  “Does the mandate to treat Corundel with respect and humanity extend to her sentencing under Ondinium law? The possible sentences for treason include death.”