The Tinkerer's Daughter

by Jamie Sedgwick

  I had a choice to make then. Should I try to land, risking a return to that rough, rocky plain? Or should I give it a bit more throttle, and get the machine safely high enough to test the controls? Naturally, the latter seemed more scientifically prudent. And my bruised body begged me not to return to the ground. I pulled back on the flight controls, raised the throttle, and the plane started to climb.

  Chapter 17

  I knew that Tinker would be furious that I had lifted off, but what else could I do? At that point, it seemed safer to continue flying than to return and face his wrath. Besides, now that the thing was in the air, there was no reason not to continue. It had proven itself capable. I was aware of the danger, but at that moment, I didn’t even care. I was flying. I was completely free. Words can’t even describe the liberation that I felt.

  I used my ability to feel the wood. I let my consciousness stretch out, joining with the machine beneath me. What I found was encouraging. The airframe was sturdy; it was completely unaffected by the change in gravitational forces and wind shear. The wings were strong. Their design was superior, and they flexed easily with the movement of the wind. In all, the entire plane was quite sound, and under very little stress. I was certain that there was nothing to worry about.

  I let my attention wane, just enough that I could focus on the actual flying. I circled the field six or seven times, my heart pounding wildly and my breath coming in sputtering gasps against the wind. The land below me changed as I climbed in altitude. The river became a narrow blue snake, and the trees looked no larger than a man. To the northwest, I saw the buildings of Riverfork rising up out of the prairie. It was marvelous.

  I turned and swept down between the trees along the banks of the river. I flew upstream, the belly of the plane barely scratching the surface of the water. The cool spray flashed up around me, leaving icy droplets on my skin and a vaporous cloud in my wake. Then I pulled back and roared up into the sky.

  I don’t know how long it went on. I completely lost track of time. I didn’t come back down until the spring ran out of energy and I suddenly realized that the fan had stopped. Naturally, I panicked. I knew that below a certain speed, the craft would drop from the sky like a rock. I had no idea what speed that was, and even if I had, there was no way to gauge it. So I circled around as quickly as I could, and brought the thing down to ground level. I was going quite fast at that point, too fast to land, so I glided along the ground for a while.

  Eventually the craft burned off its speed, and the wheels settled onto the ground. My smooth flight instantly became a bone-jarring, tooth-rattling hellride. I hit the brakes, and in a cloud of dust, rolled to a stop. I was barely out of the safety straps when Tinker got there.

  I braced myself as I heard the steamwagon roll up. I was certain that I was about to be receive a long lecture. Instead, Tinker raced over and threw his arms around me. “That was beautiful!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely beautiful. How was it? Did you feel the heat thermals? Did the wings respond to the change in airspeed? How did it steer?” He asked this and about a dozen more questions before I could even catch my breath. When he finally stopped, I just took a second to stare into his wild, maniacal eyes.

  “What?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  I pulled my goggles off, and started laughing hysterically. I laughed so hard that I leaned back against the plane and doubled over. I think he was starting to get concerned by the time I finally caught my breath. “There’s nothing wrong, Tinker. It was absolutely perfect. The thing hardly even noticed it was flying. In fact, the worst part of it was running on the field. Do you know how far I went?”

  He shook his head. His eyes were huge, his face a mask of blank expectation. “How far? Where did you go?”

  I told him, and the memory of it was so thrilling that I actually started to cry. I described going up over the mountains and feeling the turbulent rush of air. I told him about cruising up the river and watching the water spray up behind me. I described flying so high in the sky that Riverfork looked like a child’s toy down below, and the people became completely invisible. By the time I was done, he had tears in his eyes, too.

  Tinker was silent for a while as he listened, and then he began to question me. He wanted to know about the wind currents, and about how the plane responded to atmospheric changes. He wanted to know how far I thought it could fly, and how much weight it could bear. I did my best to answer all these questions, but I quickly became distracted. Finally, I interrupted him in mid-sentence: “Tinker, wind it back up.”

  He paused for a second and then glanced around, as if just then realizing that we were standing around in broad daylight in the middle of a field. “Right,” he said.

  I made three complete flights that day, and the plane performed spectacularly. At the end of the day, there wasn’t a single sign of weakness or wear. Aside from the thick layer of dust on the fuselage, it looked like new. Tinker questioned me relentlessly for the rest of the evening.

  “There must be something,” he said as we were eating dinner, “some way to improve it. The machine cannot simply be perfect.”

  “It was perfect,” I argued. “If it wasn’t for the spring winding down, I could have flown for days.”

  “There was nothing else?” he said. I thought it over.

  “There was one moment, the first time I landed.” He leaned closer, his eyes wide, begging for more. “The fan stopped while I was still flying. I had no way of knowing when the power would run out.”

  “Ahh!” he said. “Of course! We need some measurement, some gauge. I’ll start on it tomorrow. What else? Was there nothing else?”

  “In fact there was one more thing,” I said. I had completely forgotten about it, until just then. “I couldn’t tell how fast I was going. It didn’t seem important until the fan stopped, and I realized that if I went too slow I could crash.”

  “I see.” Tinker’s eyes got that distant look, and he wandered out to the barn. I went to bed. As I lay there, staring through my ceiling window, I almost felt like I was still flying.

  I drifted into a light sleep, my dreams filled with thoughts of soaring through the clouds. I flew over strange and distant lands, and the whole world stretched out before me. Then, at some point, my dreams began to change. The clouds became dark, and lightning arced across the sky. The wind whipped at my face, and rain came hurtling down, angrily beating into my face.

  There was a flash of light and thunder shook the mountainside. My eyes snapped open, and I looked up through my window in my ceiling. The darkened figure of a man’s head was staring back at me. Lightning flashed and I saw a face. His skin was dark and covered with tattoos. His eyes were yellow, and his teeth had been sharpened into fangs. I screamed.

  Chapter 18

  It wasn’t two seconds before Tinker was at my side. I pointed at the window. “A face!” I said. I was shaking and terrified, almost crying. “There was a face in the window!”

  Tinker went into the kitchen and reappeared a moment later holding a knife. “Lock this door,” he ordered. “Don’t open it until I come back.”

  “No!” I shouted. “Don’t leave me! Please, Tinker, don’t go out there!”

  Tinker stared at me for a minute before he finally took pity on me, and came back to my side. He set his knife on my sideboard, within easy reach. Then he held my head in his arms, and stroked my hair back from my eyes. He started talking, telling me about how amazing I was, and about how well I’d flown his plane. He mumbled about the changes he wanted to make, and about the difficulties of measuring wind speed.

  My head was lost in this random series of images and calculations, and his voice, along with the sound of the wind and rain outside, lulled me back into a pleasant, dreamy state. I began to wonder if the terrifying face I’d seen was no more than a dream. I had been sleeping. I’d been having a nightmare, because of the storm that was raging outside. Maybe that was all it was, just a dream…

  Tinker spoke no more of this. When
I woke the next morning, he had breakfast ready on the table, and he announced that we were going for a drive.

  “No flying today?” I said, my voice tinged with regret.

  “I’m afraid not. The storm flooded our field. Besides, it might not be safe. If the wind or lightning start up again, who knows what might happen?”

  “Then where are we going?” I said.

  He shot me a wink. “It’s a surprise.”

  What I didn’t know was that Tinker had already been outside. He’d seen the tracks in the yard, and he knew that my nightmare had been more than a dream. This was the reason for our drive. Only he didn’t tell me, and it wasn’t until much later that I realized what had really happened.

  Tinker drove us down to the river and then turned west, following the banks towards town. We passed several small farms, and eventually stopped at one of them. It was a quaint little homestead brimming with livestock. I saw Terra Cooper working with a horse in the corral. She waved as we pulled up. A man I assumed to be her father came over to greet us. I was wearing my cap, of course. I always wore something on my head those days, even around home. In fact, when I took my hat off at night, it still felt like I was wearing one.

  “Tinkerman, how have you been?” The man said.

  “Doing well, Thom,” Tinker said. “I don’t believe you’ve met my niece, Breeze.” We had decided it was best to stick with that original story, that I was his niece from South Bronwyr. Though the children in school knew my father had died in battle, they didn’t know much else about me, so we were free to fabricate as much of my past as we needed.

  Thom nodded and smiled at me. “My pleasure, Breeze. Terra has told me a lot about you. Quick as a whip, she says.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said. I accepted his handshake.

  “That’s my Breeze,” said Tinker. “There’s not much she can’t do once she puts her mind to it. Before we know it she’ll be doing the Tinkering and I’ll have to retire. So how’s life been treating you?”

  “Fair enough, up until this morning. Found my prize bull slaughtered down by the creek.” Tinker’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep. Wasn’t pretty, either. Them blasted wood-folk are up to their business again.” His face twisted up as he said wood-folk, and he practically spit the word out. My ears started burning. I wanted to argue, to defend my mother’s people, but I was afraid too. The anger, the hatred that I saw in his eyes was something beyond reason.

  Tinker must have seen me stiffen up because he put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “How do you know it was them?” he said.

  “Who else would it be?” Tinker shrugged.

  “Did you see any tracks?”

  Thom’s anger faded, and a sheepish look came over him. “Well, I don’t remember seeing any tracks. I suppose there weren’t any.”

  Tinker gave him a weak smile. “Sure. At any rate, that’s not the point of my visit. Rumor has it you’re looking to sell some pups.”

  “That I am. Got quite a few. Litter’s a few weeks old now. They’re all good, smart cattle dogs.” He gestured for us to follow him. We climbed off the wagon and walked towards the barn. I was looking at Tinker quizzically, wondering what he was up to, but he ignored my stare.

  “I don’t have any cattle,” Tinker said, “but I would like a little extra company around the house. Some companionship for Breeze.” We stepped inside, and my heart leapt as I saw the tiny, furry pups. They were curled up with their mother on an old blanket in the corner. She was a medium-sized dog, with a beautiful dark blue coat. I knelt down and started petting them.

  “Well,” said Thom, “If you don’t want to work ‘em, I’d recommend a female. The males are the best heelers, so they’ll fetch a higher price. And the females are good, loyal dogs. They’re smart, too.”

  My heart and mind went out to the tiny creatures as I stroked their impossibly soft coats, and I couldn’t help hearing their thoughts. It was all incoherent of course, just a blur of emotions. I sensed that one was tired, another afraid, and another hungry. I immediately got a sense of their personalities, and one in particular caught my attention. It was a female, and she came right for me. I sensed a curiosity in her, and a complete lack of fear. She wanted to know who I was. I lifted her up to my face, and looked into her squinting eyes. She licked me.

  “I want this one,” I told Tinker. He smiled. “All right then. She looks good enough to me. Go wait outside.”

  He started working out the deal with Thom, and I wandered back to the steamwagon to wait for him. I crawled into the seat, my attention completely taken with my new companion.

  I didn’t even notice Terra until she was standing next to me. “That’s a good choice,” she said. I yanked my eyes up, and nearly jumped out of the seat. She laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I didn’t hear you come over,” I said. I giggled at my own nervousness.

  “What I meant is, you chose a good pup. We’ve been calling that one Cinder, because of her reddish coat. That coloration is pretty rare. You can call her whatever you want, of course.”

  I held her up and examined her coat in the light. I hadn’t even noticed it in the barn, she was in fact very reddish in color, almost orange. “I like Cinder,” I said. “It fits her. I think she likes it, too.”

  Terra smiled. “Keep an eye on her, she’s a curious one. She’ll get into trouble if you don’t watch her.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  “Breeze, there’s something you should know…” the tone of Terra’s voice changed, and I instinctively glanced around to see if anyone was listening. We appeared to be alone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s about school. Some of the other girls... they have a bit of a problem with you.”

  My chest tightened up, and my mouth went dry. Problems at school were the last thing I needed. “What are you talking about?”

  She glanced around, and then leaned in closer. Her voice was a whisper. “Some of them have noticed that Robie seems to have a liking for you.”

  “Robie?” I said. I laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Well you may not have noticed it, but the girls have. Especially Shue. She thinks you’re after him.”

  My mind raced, trying to figure out why this was so important. I wanted nothing to do with Robie. I didn’t even like him. And even if I did, such a thing simply wouldn’t be possible. I shook my head. “Terra, I don’t like Robie. I mean, I really don’t like him. He’s annoying.”

  She laughed. “That’s what I thought. But the thing with Robie is, his dad is Baron Par’Tishan. He owns most of town, and a lot of the land around here. He’s also King Ryshan’s first cousin.”

  “That’s what it’s all about? They’re jealous because he likes me? And they like him because he’s noble?” It was more a revelation than a question.

  “And because he’s rich,” she said.

  I heard voices and glanced up to see Tinker and Thom exiting the barn. “Well, tell them they have nothing to worry about,” I whispered.

  She nodded. “I’ll try, but I don’t know if they’ll believe me. Anyway, I thought you should know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you and Terra have an interesting conversation?” Tinker asked on the way home.

  “Oh, we were just talking about school,” I said. Half of me wanted to tell Tinker all about it, but the other half knew I shouldn’t. If he saw it as a sign of trouble, he just might pull me out of school. That was the last thing I wanted. So I kept this little problem to myself and changed the subject by asking Tinker about our plane.

  He said he had a few ideas, but nothing concrete enough to discuss it. He promised that by the end of the week, we would have another test flight. I was disappointed. I wanted to get back in the air right away, even if it wasn’t practical. I couldn’t wait to experience that feeling again.

  Chapter 19

  Over
the days and weeks that followed, Cinder and I quickly became best friends. She slept on my chest from the very first night, and followed me everywhere during the day. I found I had a sense for when she was getting into trouble, even when I couldn’t see her. All I had to do was think of her and she would come running. It was a type of companionship that I hadn’t known before. Cinder didn’t care if I was human or Tal’mar; she didn’t even know the difference. Unfortunately, not all of my relationships were progressing so perfectly.

  After my conversation with Terra, my attention at school was distracted, to say the least. She showed no outward sign that we had ever spoken, of course. I wasn’t surprised by this, but I was disappointed. It had almost seemed that she wanted to be friends. The truth was that she had had not sought me out with her warning. She only brought it to me at a time when it was safe and convenient. I had to wonder if she ever would have said anything if I hadn’t appeared at her family’s farm.

  I stole glances at Jesha Miller and Shue Tanin, trying to discern if there was any truth behind what I had been told. To my dismay, I soon realized that it was all true. Several times I caught the older girls whispering and staring at me. I also began to notice the way that Robie smiled at me when I glanced at him, and the way he always seemed to be putting on a show. I began to wonder if his abrasive personality was really his way of trying to get attention. To get my attention.

  All of this made me understandably apprehensive, this palpable tension building between my classmates and me, but I kept the problem to myself. I feared that Tinker might yank me out of school at the first sign of trouble. I feared it so much, that I didn’t even talk to Mrs. Trader about the situation. Instead, I forced my fears to take a backseat to my studies, and told myself that eventually the problem would go away. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

  As the weight of my social problems settled on my shoulders, my mood started slipping. There were two thoughts that kept me going during those moments, when I was sitting at my desk, wishing to be anywhere else. The first was the thought of my lovely pup, who would be waiting for me at the end of the day. The latter was a promise Tinker had made to me. On Saturday, I would fly again. I found myself waiting and wishing for that moment, as if my escaping into the skies would solve all of my earthly problems. I was jolted back down to earth on Thursday when Analyn told me she had received a response to her letter.