“Not really.” Her morning medicine was still sloshing around her stomach—and she only had one good arm, so clinging for dear life while the staircase spun like a tornado wasn’t really something she felt like doing with her day.
“It’s Tinker’s version of one,” Mr. Forkle explained. “But I promise you’ll find it to be a much gentler experience.”
“Want me to go first?” Dex offered when Sophie still hesitated.
She gave him a grateful nod, and he stepped onto the bottom stair, steadying his balance as the staircase sprang to life. But the motion was slow and smooth, just like Mr. Forkle had promised. In fact, when Sophie climbed up behind Dex, she couldn’t feel any sign that they were moving. She only knew they were because the crystal skylight grew closer and closer.
“Did you design all of this yourself?” Dex asked, running his hand along the silver wall.
“Don’t you work alone?” Tinker wondered.
“Mostly,” Dex admitted—which wasn’t the answer Sophie had been expecting. She’d always thought of Dex as part of her same team. But then she remembered how often Dex had to stay home, working on gadgets by himself while the rest of their group tackled some other project.
“It’s lonely speaking a language few others understand, isn’t it?” Tinker asked him.
Dex looked away as he nodded, and Sophie tried to think of something to say. But all thoughts slid out of her head when she caught a glimpse of Tinker’s laboratory.
The room was bigger than she’d been imagining, and much, much messier. Each of the long steel tables was piled with gadgets that were still in the process of creation, their gears left exposed, wires tangling in every direction. And the copper floor was covered in screws and nuts and bolts and shards of metal and glass. The air smelled like grease and metal and oil—but not unpleasantly so. It was the scent of a place where hands got dirty and set to work. And all the whirring and humming and ticking gave the space a buzzing energy that made Sophie want to grab the nearest tool and build something.
Dex looked desperate to do the same thing, his eyes staring hungrily at the half-finished gadgets as they followed Tinker deeper into the lab. They had to weave around enormous springs that connected the floor to the ceiling, like columns, and they eventually stopped in front of a cluster of widemouthed pipes jutting from the floor, unleashing white swirls into the air that somehow made the room feel colder. Tinker motioned for them to sit at a table that was mostly empty—just two small gray puffs of fur in the middle, along with what looked like an antique jewelry box.
Sophie sank onto the bench, not caring that it was made of frigid metal. Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t decide if it was from the cold, the altitude, or the fact that her still-healing body was weaker than she wanted.
Then again, the dizziness could’ve been triggered by the thousands of gears whirling all around her.
The lab’s glass walls were filled with interlocking cogs all spinning in perfect unison, dragging a web of copper wires sideways and slantways and longways until they fed into a circuit in the center of a foggy round window at the far end of the room.
“Are we inside the clock?” Sophie asked, glancing up to find five iron bells dangling from the peaked skylight. “Or whatever it is?”
“It won’t chime again until later tonight, in case you’re worried,” Mr. Forkle assured her. “It only peals five times a day. Though even if we were here for one of them, the sound is strangely muffled.”
“That’s because of the pillars,” Dex explained. “The springs absorb the vibration. And see all those tiny holes?” He pointed to the nearest coil, and Sophie was surprised to notice its texture was more like steel wool. “Those absorb the sound.”
Tinker’s eyebrow raised. “How long did that take you to puzzle out?”
Dex shrugged. “I don’t know—it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“I told you his talent was special,” Mr. Forkle said.
Tinker nodded, flicking through the different lenses on her eyepiece as she studied Dex closer, making Dex’s cheeks flush the same shade as his hair.
He reached for one of the gray puffs resting on the table, like he needed something to fidget with. “It’s cool you have tomples. I’ve always wanted one.”
“That thing’s alive?” Sophie realized as the puff stirred in his palm.
Dex held the creature out to her. “Yep. Wanna see?”
She’d started to reach for it when he added, “They’re kind of like what you’d get if you crossed a hedgehog, a kitten, and a really big cockroach.”
Sophie jerked her hand away just in time to avoid the six spindly brown legs that emerged from the fur.
“Okay, that’s just wrong,” she said, scooting as far as she could from the fluffy bug-of-doom. “Why would you want one of those?”
“Aw, don’t listen to her,” Dex whispered to the tomple as he set it back on the table. “She doesn’t know what cute is—trust me.”
He winked and Sophie felt her jaw fall, wondering when they’d reached a point where they could joke about that.
“Besides,” he added, “tomples feed on dust, so they’re awesome to have in labs. I’ve been asking my dad to get one for Slurps and Burps for years. But he’s worried all the alchemy stuff we do could mix with the dust and make the tomple sick. So I’m stuck cleaning all the shelves myself.”
The tomple skittered back toward its fluffy friend, and Sophie tried not to squeal like a five-year-old. But she couldn’t help it when she noticed a blur of black fur snatch something from the next table over and duck behind one of the larger contraptions.
“Okay, what was that?” she asked, only half sure she wanted to know.
“I believe that’s Sprocket,” Mr. Forkle said as the same clawed black hand reached around a tangle of wires, grabbed what looked like a small circuit board, and yanked it back.
Tinker rushed over and scooped up a black furry creature with a shiny nose and folded ears like a puppy—a gremlin, Sophie realized. And it wasn’t letting go of its new treasures, no matter how hard Tinker pulled.
“I can’t believe you keep a gremlin around all of this tech,” Dex murmured as Sprocket won his tug-of-war and leaped from Tinker’s arms, quickly breaking the circuit board into itty-bitty pieces.
“Gremlins love to dismantle things,” Mr. Forkle explained to Sophie. “And I’ve made the same observation, Mr. Dizznee. Many times. All Tinker ever tells me is . . .”
“Aren’t some challenges worth it?” she finished, reaching into her tool belt and pulling out a tiny metal cube, which she traded with Sprocket for whatever remained of the circuit board. The happy gremlin scurried under the table and immediately set to work prying the cube apart, tossing each piece over its shoulder—which might explain why the floor was so messy. Maybe even why so many of the gadgets looked unfinished.
Sophie wondered how much time Tinker spent redoing what Sprocket had undone.
“It’s a way to fill the day, isn’t it?” Tinker asked, somehow guessing what Sophie was thinking—and Sophie finally understood what Mr. Forkle meant about her way of communicating.
All questions, no answers.
“It is,” Mr. Forkle told Tinker. “But I’ve found a better way—as you already know.”
He turned to Dex. “I haven’t brought you to Tinker before, because it allowed you to come at each other’s projects with fresh eyes. But I think we’re to a point where it would be far more beneficial for you to put your heads together. Lady Iskra is a brilliant Mentor—and you’ll still work with her during your Foxfire sessions. But her approach is very traditional, and we both know that traditional isn’t where you excel. So I’d love you to start coming here after school and training with Tinker.”
“Every day?” Dex asked.
“As often as you can,” Mr. Forkle told him.
“Okay, but . . . I’m not going to be able to keep ditching Lovise. She won’t fall for the triplets’ tricks again.”
“Lovise is a goblin?” Tinker confirmed.
“A very loyal goblin,” Mr. Forkle clarified. “You can trust her. But I know that will be a challenge, given your past experiences.”
Tinker’s hands curled into fists, the metal guards covering her pointer fingers making a clinking sound. “Would the goblin be willing to wait outside?”
“I suspect that can be arranged,” Mr. Forkle agreed.
Tinker’s grip relaxed—slightly. And she dipped her chin in a nod.
“Excellent,” Mr. Forkle said. “Then I have your first project.”
He reached into his cape pocket and retrieved two clear marble-size spheres, each glinting with tiny colorful jewels set inside—and Sophie’s stomach soured as Dex hung his head and looked away.
“Caches?” Tinker asked.
“Fake caches,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Or so we’ve been told. I’d like to verify that information, since it could be a misdirection. But if it’s not, I’d like to know how the Neverseen managed to fool us. We might be able to learn something about the identity of their Technopath by studying their handiwork. Plus, we may need to use Kenric’s replica if the Council asks Sophie to produce his cache before we recover the real one—”
“You’d give the Council the fake?” Sophie had to ask.
Mr. Forkle nodded. “If we needed to buy ourselves more time, I believe I would. But I’d like to understand exactly how risky that decision would be before I make it. And, quite honestly, I’m also trying to ease my own frustration. I hate to be fooled—and I despise it even more when I can’t pinpoint exactly how the trick was achieved. So I’d like to at least know what we missed—particularly because the Neverseen could’ve made more than one decoy to thwart our next efforts to find the originals.”
“Ugh, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Sophie grumbled, choking down the sour taste in her throat.
“Can I see those?” Tinker asked, holding out her hand for the caches.
Mr. Forkle handed them over. “You can keep them for now—but before you get sidetracked, I wanted to discuss another project. One I held off mentioning earlier, because I wanted you to meet Mr. Dizznee and see for yourself that he’s both talented and kindhearted. That way you won’t be confused by the intention.”
“And what intention is that?” Tinker asked.
Mr. Forkle stole a brief glance at Dex and Sophie before he said, “To make weapons.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
LET ME BE CLEAR,” MR. Forkle added, rushing over to Tinker, who was trembling so hard she looked ready to topple over. “I know how you feel about explosives, and I would never ask you to make them again. I’m only asking you to help design gadgets that will counteract some of the Neverseen’s abilities—and if there’s also a way to take out any ogres or dwarves working with them in the process, all the better. But you get to decide how you’ll approach that challenge. Mr. Dizznee can design the rest on his own.”
He helped Tinker lower herself onto the bench, and Sprocket hopped into her lap. She stroked the gremlin’s ears as she murmured, “He shouldn’t.”
The words were hushed and simple—but coming from someone who only spoke in questions, they hit with a thud.
Even Mr. Forkle looked shaken.
“Have you forgotten what happens when you bring that kind of ugliness into the world?” Tinker asked him.
“I know the risks,” he promised.
Her focus shifted to Dex as the lenses on her eyepiece rotated. “Do you?”
“I do,” Dex assured her.
“Then why would you be willing to create such things? Or have you already made them?”
“Mr. Dizznee has made some simple, targeted devices in order to protect himself and his friends,” Mr. Forkle answered for him, “and they’re part of the reason that Sophie survived this latest attack. But I can assure you, he’s not making anything that could cause damage on any sort of large scale—”
“How can you know that?” Tinker interrupted, slamming her fist against the table with a clang! that sent the tomples scattering and had Sprocket ducking under the bench. “Why would you think you can control the uncontrollable?”
“We don’t,” Mr. Forkle admitted. “But this is another reason I’d like you to work with Mr. Dizznee on this project, to offer him wisdom and guidance, and to challenge him to make sure the utmost caution is being taken. You can be the voice of reason.”
“Will he listen?” Tinker asked, tapping her metal-guarded finger on the table.
“I will,” Dex told her. “I know how messy this stuff can get. One of my gadgets got zapped by a Charger during a standoff in Exile. It was only supposed to set off a shock wave to knock over anyone threatening us, but once it absorbed all that extra energy, I knew it was going to explode—and one of my friends managed to hurl it away. But he got hurt in the process. And I think about that every time I make something new—how quickly everything became so much more dangerous than I wanted it to be, and how it felt to see my friend with this huge wound in his chest, knowing it was my fault, and that if he didn’t make it through . . .”
Sophie scooted closer, reaching for his hand.
“Afterward,” Dex added quietly, “I wondered if I shouldn’t ever make gadgets like that again. But . . . have you faced the Neverseen?”
Tinker shifted her weight. “No.”
Another answer that wasn’t a question—and it seemed to give Dex confidence. He straightened up as he told her, “I have. And the thing is, they enjoy hurting and killing. They’re never going to stop—not until they’ve destroyed everything and taken over. And people like that . . . you can’t beat them by playing it safe.”
“He’s right,” Mr. Forkle added softly. “The Neverseen have all but declared war. And war is a messy, horrible thing. It requires crossing lines that probably shouldn’t be crossed but must be in order to survive. So if someone’s willing to step up and handle something that you’re not comfortable with, that’s good news. Especially if you can offer wisdom to guide them.”
Tinker looked away, luring Sprocket back to her lap with another metal cube and trailing her fingers through his shiny fur. “What exactly do you need me to do?”
“Whatever you feel comfortable with,” Mr. Forkle told her. “Mr. Dizznee has recently been creating an arsenal of sorts, stored in stashes, and I’d love for you to help him improve on some of those creations, both in their effectiveness and their appearance. I’m hoping that whatever devices you two create can be camouflaged or shrunken. The goal would be for us to have them constantly on hand.”
“And when do you want us to begin working on all of this?” Tinker asked.
“Why not today? Mr. Dizznee’s already here. Beyond that, I’ll leave the schedule up to you—but I’d recommend meeting up as much as possible. I realize you have a number of responsibilities, Mr. Dizznee, between Foxfire and your family’s business and your friends. But this needs to be a priority.”
“What about the other thing you told me to focus on?” Dex asked. “Helping Sophie protect her . . . newest ability.”
“It’s okay—Tinker knows Miss Foster is an Enhancer. I’ve actually asked her to see if she can come up with her own means to control the ability.”
“You did?” Dex asked, frowning when Mr. Forkle nodded. “Why?”
“Because I’d rather you focus on this. And, truthfully, I thought the project might need some fresh eyes.”
Dex’s frown turned to a full-fledged scowl. “It doesn’t—I’ve got it covered.”
“Are you sure?” Tinker asked, reaching for the jewelry box in the center of the table. “Would you like to see my solution?”
That threw Dex for a second. “You already made something?”
She dipped her chin and flipped open the gilded lid, filling the room with a tinkling melody that felt familiar even though Sophie couldn’t place it. The final note was still ringing as Tinker plucked out four tiny, curved pieces of smooth metal that almost l
ooked like . . .
“Are those supposed to be fingernails?” Sophie asked, imagining all kinds of horrifying application scenarios.
Tinker reached for Sophie’s hand. “Why do you assume I would design anything to hurt you?”
Her fingers were ice-cold but careful as she pulled off Sophie’s glove and placed one of the metal pieces over Sophie’s thumbnail, lining it up before tapping it once and . . .
. . . the metal suctioned perfectly into place.
She repeated the process with a second curl of metal on Sophie’s pointer finger. “Can you tap five times like this?” she asked, clicking her fingertips together the way someone would play finger symbols.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sophie copied the gesture, and a warm tingle rippled across her skin.
“That’s pretty cool,” Sophie had to admit.
It got even cooler when she pressed her fingertips against Dex’s palm and nothing happened.
No surge of heat sparking between them.
No transfer of energy.
No enhancing.
And when she tapped five times again, cold prickled across her palm, undoing whatever the first taps had done.
Dex sighed and leaned closer, squinting at her silver nails. “It’s the same kind of force field I used in my design. All she did was make hers turn off and on without being removed.”
“And camouflaged them quite cleverly,” Mr. Forkle noted. “A little metallic polish on the other nails and no one would ever be the wiser—though I still recommend wearing your gloves,” he told Sophie. “The Neverseen might grow suspicious if you stop. Plus, it’s always wise to have backup, in case technology fails.”
“True,” Sophie agreed.
She shook her hand as hard as she could to see if the nails would loosen.
They held strong.
Maybe a little too strong.
“How am I supposed to take these off?” she asked.
“Why would you need to?” Tinker wondered.
“I don’t know. Won’t they look weird when my nails grow?”
Tinker tapped the base of each nail twice, and a puff of air loosened the gadgets, allowing Sophie to slide them up or down as needed. All she’d have to do is trim her nails to keep them hidden.
Flashback Page 33