by Tish Thawer
“Let’s find out if these Bishop brothers are worth their word,” I said.
“If they hear you say that,” Betsy said, “it’s not their word you’ll have to worry about.”
“I’ve dealt with sharper blades in my day,” I said.
“Your day was quite a while ago,” Theodore said. “Charlotte might have to abandon you to the old folks soon.”
Charlotte choked out a laugh. I gave her an exasperated look.
Betsy hefted one of the leather sacks that held the wards and the mechanics. I grabbed the other. Charlotte was better and faster than me with any gun, her vision sharper even now than I think mine had ever been. I’d rather her hands be free to take care of any issues that might arise than to be tangled up hauling around more tools.
“Let’s get this done.”
Chapter 6
Crossing the square so early in the morning was almost as uneventful as I’d hoped. There were more people out than I’d expected, but maybe that was part of Roman Bishop’s plan. While I’d normally be focusing on some of the newer unfinished buildings going up, that morning found me glancing down every alleyway and checking every shadowed doorway. Would an old Unseelie fae be hiding behind one of those doors? I suspected they had never really come after us in earnest. And what rush did they have, really? Time wouldn’t move the same for an immortal.
“We aren’t alone out here,” Betsy said, hurrying forward to step up beside me.
“I can see that,” I said.
Betsy grimaced. “I can see more than you. I can feel more than you. And you know it. We’re being followed.”
My first instinct was to look over my shoulder, but my survival instinct told me not to do something so obvious. “Can you tell who?”
“No,” she said. “I can only tell what.”
“You’re no fae,” I said under my breath. This probably wasn’t the best time to grill Betsy about what she really was. But it might’ve been the best time to actually get an answer out of her, if she was worried about her own safety as well as ours. Or at least as well as Theodore’s.
Betsy cursed under her breath. “I’m not.”
“Of course you aren’t,” Charlotte said. “We’ve seen you handle iron like it was an inert piece of wood.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Theodore hissed.
The total lack of curiosity in the boy’s voice surprised me. I glanced back at him for a split second. “You already know.” There was no accusation in my voice; it was simply a statement of fact.
“Of course he knows,” Betsy said. “I’m a halfling. A halfbreed. Whatever horrible term you want to apply to me.”
I blinked. I hadn’t expected her to admit it so freely. A million things ran through my brain at once. With effort, I tamped down the rampaging questions in my head and asked the one that mattered. “What’s behind us?”
“One fae, I think. It’s hard to tell with all the iron we’re carrying.”
I took a deep breath and made a mental note that iron did affect Betsy, but it didn’t seem to damage her physically.
The rest of the walk was far more tense. It felt longer, but nothing came from the shadows. No doorway creaked open as we passed, and nothing ambushed us from the alleys. We made our way past the most recently finished building closest to the end of the square, and as we turned the corner, the skeleton of the conservatory came into view. It was all copper and brass pipes with framing that housed a magnificent greenhouse. But now that we’d torn part of it down again, it was just dirt and metal and hope.
“Come,” I said. “We may have a chance to test this far sooner than I would’ve preferred.”
I made my way over to the pipes that would serve as the irrigation lines. I absently noted that the wood for the flooring had been delivered far earlier than had been expected. That wasn’t necessarily a great thing, as the weather might take its toll.
The satchel slid off my back, and I gently laid it next to the support in the middle of the conservatory. My gaze lingered on a patch of dirt that had clearly been dug up and repacked, but it was out of the way, and not my concern at that moment. To the untrained eye, the support may have looked like a simple metal beam propping up the bulk of the structure. But there was a small section about five feet off the ground that had what appeared to be a solid iron band wrapped around it. I held up one of the aether vessels to a small indentation in the plate, and the mechanism behind it clanked. The plate fell, revealing the recess that would hold the wards we’d mounted.
“It looks like Bishop kept his word,” Charlotte said. “I don’t see anyone.”
I nodded. I could hear the surprise in Charlotte’s voice, and it very much echoed my own. Roman struck me as someone who might keep his word to the letter of the law, but he also might twist the spirit of it like a fae.
I placed the pipe into the recess, and a small knob set inside rocked perfectly into the indentation on the bottom of the pipe. I twisted it so the ward plate would be facing out. Once it was balancing on its own, I reached back for the tool bag, realizing I’d left it too far away. “Theodore, palm wrench.”
Theodore rooted through my pack for a moment, and then handed me a device that didn’t look much like a wrench at all. It was flat and slender, and slid easily into the recesses of the opening in the beam. It took me a moment fishing around in the darkness, but eventually I felt the metal slide over the valve that would let me adjust the mechanism inside.
Two turns lowered a piston from above and secured the pipe on top and bottom. I pulled the palm wrench out and handed it back to Theodore.
“It didn’t open,” Betsy said.
“Not yet,” I said, pulling the larger aether vessel out of my pocket. This one wasn’t massive, and it wasn’t camouflaged to hide the glow. I reached inside the pole and snapped it into the receptacle that I’d mounted and sited a month before. It burst to life, and for a split second, I could see the aether tracing the wires that led to the ward’s mount.
I snatched my hand back, knowing that had I left it in there, I had a real risk of losing it. Two seconds later, the plates snapped out, far faster than anything we’d seen in the workshop. The iron clanged together, forming a circle for the light tracing the ward and bursting into brilliant life before fading back to a dull glow.
“It works,” Charlotte said.
“Is that confidence I hear in your voice?” I asked, grinning at Charlotte.
Theodore helped me raise the iron cuff until it sat in place, concealing the plate. I placed the aether key on an indentation higher up the band, and the locking mechanism clicked home.
We stood silently for a moment.
“And it doesn’t bother you?” Theodore asked. “You’re sure?”
“I told you it wouldn’t,” Betsy said. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Theodore.”
“What have you done?” a voice hissed from somewhere behind us.
Chapter 7
I turned, snapping my gaze to the area I thought the voice had come from. Behind us, a slender form waited. I’d only seen him this close once, with his sword nearly at my throat as I escaped into one of the old mines. It seemed to be one of the few places he wouldn’t follow. The man of shadows.
“Driscoll,” Betsy said, her voice verging on a growl.
At first I thought his eyes were locked on Betsy, but as he shifted, and the wind caught the tails of his finely tailored jacket, I realized he was staring at the ward.
“What have you done?” Driscoll asked. He pointed at Betsy. “You would give these unevolved monkeys fae magicks? I can sense it behind the iron. Behind the inferior power of the witches.”
“But can you see my friends?” Betsy asked.
“I see you well enough, halfbreed,” Driscoll snapped.
“That wasn’t my question.”
Driscoll froze, his eyes darting around the construction area. “I should strike you down for this.”
A slow smile crawled its way across Betsy’s face
. In the end, the expression was more like she had bared her teeth at Driscoll, and the effect was terrifying.
“It’s working,” she said, turning her back on Driscoll.
“You can’t see us?” Theodore asked her.
“A side effect I’d hoped the wards would give—a shield to anything that lives inside these walls.”
“They’re still here,” Driscoll said. It wasn’t a question.
I came to realize that Betsy had deliberately tipped him off to the fact we were still standing here. A power play? Something more? The girl perplexed me, and the loyalties of any immortal always concerned me.
Driscoll’s sword sang as he unsheathed it, a narrow blade that looked as if it could be bent between two fingers. But I had little doubt about the deadliness of that edge, or the fae who wielded it.
“You’re weak,” Betsy said. “And this town will defend itself against your will. Abandon your vendetta, and leave these people in peace.”
Driscoll’s face curled into a snarl. “You go too far, halfbreed.” He charged.
Charlotte raised her rifle as the Unseelie fae closed on us. Betsy produced two short blades not so unlike the razor-thin sword wielded by Driscoll. She played her role well. Well enough that it unnerved me. But this was what we wanted.
This was not what Driscoll expected. He barked out a primal scream as his sword slid through the air toward Betsy. It didn’t get far. As soon as his hand hit the threshold, the finger he had extended at the tip of the blade snapped back in a terrible crack. Surprise lit Driscoll’s face for a second before he crashed into the invisible wall created by the wards. The faerie stumbled, catching himself in an obscenely graceful dip. He frowned and looked back up at Betsy. “You’re a fool if you think that will keep me out.”
“Then come in,” Betsy said. “If you can.”
An unnatural calm settled over Driscoll’s face. “I will tear this house down, girl. And these people will know it was you that brought their end.”
Clouds shifted above us, and as the shadows moved across the world, the shadowed man went with them.
“Did that go well?” Theodore asked. “Was that really bad?”
“Bit of both,” Charlotte muttered.
“He issued you a challenge,” I said, turning to Betsy.
She nodded and looked to the sky. “He’ll return at the same time tomorrow. And he will keep his word.”
I cursed. “How likely do you think it is he’ll attack us before then?”
“Driscoll is known to be deceitful,” Betsy said. “It is certainly a possibility.”
“Then we stay together,” I said. “You two come back to the shop with us. You can help me finish the wards before we all die horribly.”
“Who could resist an invitation like that?” Charlotte asked. “I’ll even serve you some stale bread for your last meal.”
Betsy gave us a small smile as she slid her daggers back into her sleeves. Theodore just gave us a nervous laugh.
I pulled one of the portable wards out from the inside of my leather jacket and turned it over in my hand. “I would have liked to have tried this.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have your chance,” Betsy said. “But I’m not sure you really want it.”
We were walking away when I heard the first of the voices behind us, people returning to the inn from whatever distraction Bishop had set up. The construction workers would be back at their tasks without realizing what had happened, or what had been added to the conservatory.
I let out a relieved sigh as we crossed the threshold into our shop. It had been a long time since I’d fought any sort of battle. I didn’t like the idea of going head-to-head with an Unseelie fae. If it had to happen, I was glad Charlotte was with me, and Theodore, and most especially Betsy.
“Thank you, Betsy,” I said. “The ward clearly works.”
She inclined her head.
“I thought Driscoll would use magic,” I said. I had a sneaking suspicion he could cut us down without much effort.
“Most of the bloodthirsty fae I’ve known prefer to cut you open with their swords if they can,” Betsy said. “Make no mistake—we insulted him, and it’s going to get ugly.”
I felt the reassuring weight of the clip for my harmonica pistol in my left breast pocket. It wasn’t as portable as a revolver, and some would say it was not as reliable, but I’d come to know it quite well, and the ammunition was easy to manufacture.
“Even if the bullets fail,” Betsy said, “the shields won’t.”
It was unnerving the way some people, and especially the fae, could read a human so easily.
“You and Theodore can make more money selling arms to the city,” Charlotte said. “You wouldn’t have to worry about what my crotchety old husband needs you for.”
“Crotchety?” Theodore asked. “Is that a new term for cheap? Penny-pinching?”
“It’s a new term for unemployed,” I said slowly.
Betsy grinned at me and turned her attention to Charlotte. “I know we could. I know that would be a nice life for Theodore. But I have no desire for war.”
“War?” I said.
Betsy remained quiet. And again I found myself wondering just how long she’d lived. How much she’d seen. And what she didn’t tell us.
“When I was young, and lived in another place, there were wars. The humans rejected the half fae, and the Unseelie made to wipe us out. Not drive us from our home. They sought genocide. And it is why I help you now.”
I often thought of war as the realm of man. As though humans were the only ones stupid enough to encourage the wholesale slaughter of their own people. But the more knowledge I’d gained of other beings, faeries and werewolves and things I once thought nothing but tales for children, I was coming to realize we were not unique for killing in this world.
“I will make you a thousand shields,” Betsy said. “But I will not make your weapons. I will not give you a blade to pierce the heart of another, or a bullet to steal the life of a stranger.
“The journeys in past lives of the people who come to this settlement brought much darkness with them. There are darker things here. And there are darker things coming.”
Chapter 8
“We need to get back to the mine,” I said, rooting through the cabinet drawer that was now depleted of its usual load of ore. “I don’t think I have enough to make the vessel for the meeting hall. It’s not going to be enough to shield the town.”
“Are you mad?” Betsy asked. “Driscoll’s going to be watching for you. You think he won’t be watching the mines?”
“We have to take that chance,” I said. “He might be watching the stills.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Charlotte asked. “You think you’ll dissuade him with what’s in your pocket? You don’t even know if that will work.”
“What?” Betsy asked.
“Gregory carries the clip you etched for his gun.”
“I am well aware of what I placed on it,” Betsy said. “That old ward will prevent the metal from rupturing when he fires. What he chooses to do with what comes out of that barrel is of no consequence to me.”
“Even if it changes the bullet?” Charlotte asked.
Betsy nodded.
The front door creaked open, and the clock chimes boomed into life a moment later.
“Are you open?” A slender man asked as he stepped inside. “I’ve heard you sell very fine puzzle boxes, and strange figures that can move on their own.”
Charlotte’s irritation flipped over to her smiling salesman persona in a second. “Automata, yes, of course we do. Is it a special occasion? A gift for a lady you’re courting? I’m Charlotte, by the way.”
“Lawrence,” the man said, ignoring her other questions, instead staring at the wall of puzzle boxes and various watches we’d made and occasionally plundered over the years. “Lawrence Mills.”
“Mills,” I said. “You’re one of the founders.”
He nodded and gave m
e a small smile. “I heard you were taking action.”
“Heard from who?”
“Mihail, at the inn. A few of us know of your past with the Unseelie. Some might wonder if you are . . . more worried than you need to be.”
“Probably where Roman heard it then,” I said under my breath, letting Lawrence’s words slide off my back. I raised my voice a bit. “Best to be prepared.”
Lawrence eyed Betsy for a moment, looked like he was going to say more, but remained silent. He stepped closer to one of the displays on the far side of the room.
“The automata are mostly in the cases,” I said, inclining my head toward the wall of tall glass cabinets. “I’m not sure what your budget runs, but they’re more expensive than most puzzle boxes.”
“Gregory,” Charlotte snapped. “That was rather rude.”
I blinked. Some of the social niceties escaped me in my old age.
Lawrence held his hand out in a placating gesture. “It’s fine,” he said with a laugh. “No insult was taken.”
“You see,” I said. “Perfectly reasonable young man.”
Charlotte turned slightly and scowled at me so Lawrence wouldn’t be able to see.
“Are you shopping for a lover?” Betsy asked.
“Yes, and no. I’d like something that our grandchildren’s grandchildren will still be able to enjoy long after we’re gone.”
Charlotte smiled and turned to the wall of puzzle boxes, pulling down a gold rectangular box. It was one of my favorites, with the mechanisms partially exposed, but hidden in intricate geometric patterns that surrounded a circle set in the middle.
“Oh, Christine would love that,” Lawrence said, taking the box from Charlotte.
Charlotte held out a pendant. “This is the key. Placing it on top will start the lock opening.”
Betsy turned to Charlotte. “Why don’t you let Theodore and me take care of the shop? That delivery isn’t going to wait.”