I glared at David in challenge. He had to be a fool to think I didn’t know his game. His Grace, my arse. He was talking about Oliver, who detested using that title unless he had to. After what Oliver, Will, and I had been through together, even the thought of calling him by his title seemed ridiculous.
“I have a new life now,” Will said. “According to Amusementist tradition, you are to address me by clan.” Will crossed his arms and widened his stance. David took a step away.
“Very well, MacDonald. It changes little.” David sauntered back toward the lighted corridor.
“You’re right,” Will said, and pulled me closer. David looked back over his shoulder at us. His lofty confidence had been stripped away, leaving something raw yet powerful in its wake. He certainly retained his commanding presence.
“What do you want, David?” I asked. If he insisted on playing a game with names, I could play as well. He turned to me.
“The headmaster has called us all back to the main hall. He has something important to announce and instructed me to find you. I hardly have to remind you that your position here is tenuous at best, Miss Whitlock.” He lingered on my name. “It would hardly do to behave in a manner unbecoming of your stature.”
My stature. I let out an indignant huff. My stature. He may have believed that I held some great esteem in the Order, but I had not forgotten that I was the daughter of a clockmaker, an orphan, and a former penniless housemaid. If he intended to place me on some sort of romantic pedestal, that inclination wasn’t about improving my stature. “My stature is no business of yours.”
His eyes swept down my body, then drifted back up to my face. I felt his gaze, like the touch of a cool breeze that whispered through my clothing. “If you insist.”
Will tensed behind me, and I held out a hand in front of him. For as much as it galled me to admit it, David did have a point. I didn’t need to borrow more trouble, and the rumor that I had been sneaking off into shadowy corners to ruin myself with a Foundry boy would hardly make my life easier.
Besides, I couldn’t keep the headmaster waiting. “Fine.”
I took Will’s hand and gave it a squeeze. I didn’t want to say goodbye. He placed a tender kiss on the back of my hand, then let me go without a word as if he couldn’t say it either.
David turned to Will.
“You should get back to the ship. They need someone to shovel coal.” He offered me his arm with a short bow, but I grabbed my skirts and stomped forward into the lighted corridor without taking it.
Arrogant son of a bastard. If he was jealous of Will, then he was right to be. I had no interest in David. None. And I never would. Ever.
I kept my head high as we walked a few steps along the corridor. David stalked just behind me. I let him pass. Then at the last moment I turned to look back.
Will stood watching from the half shadows, waiting for me. I didn’t know when I would see him again. I paused, watching him standing there, proud and strong like a true Highlander. He lifted a hand.
I touched the air as well, feeling a connection to him in spite of the distance between us, and hoping he understood what he meant to me. He nodded, then disappeared into the darkness.
David suddenly realized I had stopped, and closed the distance to me. I dropped my hand even as I felt my heart fall with it.
“You could do better, you know.” He took my arm at the elbow and drew me away.
I pulled from his touch. “No, I couldn’t.”
We walked the rest of the way in stiff silence until we climbed the ramp into the courtyard.
Samuel was standing there to greet us.
“You found her,” he scoffed. “Which Scot was climbing up her skirt?”
I clenched my fist, and heaven knows how I found the strength to keep it at my side because I longed to swing it at his face. He was the saboteur. I knew it in my bones. I turned to David, knowing I only had moments before I’d have to endure Samuel’s cruel taunts about the kiss I had shared with Will.
“She was alone,” David said, his voice cool and casual. I was so surprised by his words, I nearly lost my balance. Why would he lie? I thought he of all people would crow any failing of mine from the rooftop, given the opportunity. He arched an eyebrow at me, then swept his arm toward the stair leading into the Academy. “After you, Miss Whitlock.”
“She was lost then. Idiot,” Samuel muttered under his breath.
Samuel could think what he wanted. I didn’t care about the brute. David was the one who concerned me. I wondered what he would do with the knowledge of what he had seen. Blackmail? Perhaps. That seemed in line with his temperament. Before long he’d no doubt threaten to reveal the kiss to try to force me to ruin a project just so he could outshine me. Then he wouldn’t have to dirty his hands with sabotage.
I supposed I’d have to wait for David to play his hand. I didn’t like that he had leverage over me.
We entered the assembly hall, and most of the other apprentices were already gathered in the center of the room in front of the speaker’s podium. Two roughly man-size objects were hidden beneath red blankets near the podium. Headmaster Lawrence stood between them, and to the right stood MacTavish.
At once the Foundry master turned to stare at us as we entered, his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on our little party. I couldn’t read his expression. With his thick beard, only his eyes could reveal him. I didn’t know what I saw there, but it made me uncomfortable. The headmaster glanced at us, then gave a sour look to the Foundry master before turning to us again.
Yes, we were last to arrive.
You would have thought we were walking to the gallows, if the faces of the two men were any indication.
Headmaster Lawrence straightened. “Now that we are all present and accounted for, I have an announcement.”
Everyone looked toward the headmaster, so I used the opportunity to sneak along the back of the crowd until I was as far from David and Samuel as I could possibly arrange myself.
“The time has come to begin work on the Academy’s contribution to the upcoming Amusement,” the headmaster announced in a large and impressive voice. Immediately I felt the excitement in the air as I tried to recall what the Amusementists had decided to work on during the Gathering. I had been too distracted by the bomb in my lap to pay much attention.
Now the bomb was being studied by the Order, but I wondered how much of a priority Headmaster Lawrence and the others had placed on it. No one had mentioned it to me.
But the bomb was a matter for another day. As I watched, Lawrence and MacTavish had grasped the coverings and pulled them aside with a flourish.
On the dais stood two perfect golden automatons. The one to the left was male. His face was a blank contour, his body covered in interlocking plates. At his elbows and knees, carefully protected gears allowed for movement in his joints.
To the right stood the other automaton. It was smaller, with more distinctive curves through the waist and the chest. Though her face was as blank as the other’s, this one was clearly meant to be a woman.
Oh, no.
“Allow me to introduce Adam and Eve. Over the years the Order has nearly mastered the art of the automaton. While we would not expect an apprentice to design such a complicated mechanism, we have a challenging task to ask of you.” The headmaster got a gleam in his eye as he stroked his short beard. I felt my innards tie themselves into a sailor’s knot, unravel, and then attempt the knot again more tightly.
“The two head apprentices will lead this project. Each will take one of the automatons. As for the rest of you, you are free to aid them as little or as much as you desire. Bear in mind the nature of the Order. Those who aid in success reap the rewards of success. Those who aid in failure . . .” He let his voice trail off in an ominous way. My palms grew moist.
I didn’t need this. Not now.
“David, will you please step forward.”
Of course the male would belong to him.
I watched as he l
ifted his head, inflated with his own self-importance. He didn’t seem concerned at all as he accepted cheers and slaps on the back from his admirers. He stood before the headmaster with his hands clasped behind his back. I edged around the boys in front of me to get a better look. David’s fingers were clenched rather tightly, and he seemed pale in the dim light of the hall.
“As the apprentice with the highest marks, the male is yours,” Headmaster Lawrence announced.
David stepped toward his prize.
“Very good.” Lawrence nodded his approval. “The second automaton shall be assigned to you”—I hung my head, dreading to hear his next words—“Miss Whitlock.”
Dear God, what was he thinking? If this was meant as the perfect bait to draw out the saboteur, fine. That was all well and good, but in the meantime I was saddled with a project that was about to clearly put me at odds with David.
My feet remained fixed to the floor, unwilling to take on such a burden.
“Come forward, Miss Whitlock.” There was a stern reprimand in his voice, so I obeyed, but I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye.
“As second-highest apprentice, the second automaton is yours. Congratulations.”
I looked out at the faces of the other apprentices and felt he was congratulating me on a death sentence. At that moment in time I felt I’d rather face a tall man bearing a hood and a bloody axe rather than the lifeless golden woman before me.
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I glanced over at David, only to find his gaze meeting mine. His mouth formed a determined line as he gave me the slightest nod. I had no doubt he would soon be surrounded by volunteers to help with whatever it was we were supposed to do with our new charges. I wouldn’t be receiving such support, and any support that was offered willingly would have to be suspect.
Whatever we had to do, I’d have to find a way to do it on my own in spite of the saboteur. I furrowed my brow. What were we supposed to do with the blasted things?
“Excuse me, Headmaster,” I said. He turned to me like some great benefactor. “What is our assignment, precisely?”
He smiled at me benevolently. I wished he had decided to give his benevolence to someone else. “Why, teach them to dance, of course. How else are they supposed to attend the Automaton Ball?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The room broke into raucous chatter as I stood there, ramrod straight. My posture matched that of the automaton so precisely, I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had tried to wind me. A crowd had already formed around David’s machine. Boys were moving the arms and inspecting the gears as if Father Christmas had just gifted them all with a brilliant new toy.
My arms and legs felt frozen in place as I realized the scope of what I had to do. This was too much for one person. No single apprentice could manage this on his own. I needed help, and yet I did not have a fawning crowd at my disposal.
But not everyone was taken in by David’s glory. I took a step toward the thin group of stragglers who were unable to stand too close to the fire of his charisma. They were often burned by whatever failing David’s friends had deemed unworthy in them. None of them had reason to sabotage me, and they also hadn’t had access to my plans for the aviary. They were as safe a choice as I could make. I certainly didn’t find them lacking, and if they wanted to be included in a project, I had one to offer.
Noah was the one nearest to me. While I remembered quite clearly how he’d broken his association with me at the beginning of the summer, I knew he was one of several caught in the middle as far as talent went. But his ambition was as great as any in the room.
“Noah,” I began, carefully settling on the most advantageous angle to the problem I could think of. “A victory will reap greater rewards if there are fewer hands demanding a portion of the prize,” I began.
He turned slowly, drawing his gaze reluctantly from the throng of people surrounding David. He could not hide the longing on his face. “I beg your pardon?”
“I could use your assistance with my machine. I promise, Samuel won’t be invited.” I gave him a brief smile, trying to remember those moments in our childhood when we had played side by side. The only trouble was, he had ignored me then, too.
My words caught the attention of Michael, the Irish boy. He was the son of a shipbuilder, and had been struck with an awkward gait and manner of speech that lacked a certain refinement. He glanced from Noah to me, as if unsure what he should do.
“Michael,” I implored. “You have a talent for finding minute faults and correcting them. I’m certain creating switch panels to control the movement of a waltz will be an exquisite challenge. I know you are capable of it.” I knew he was frustrated that no one seemed to have faith in his abilities.
Then there was Manoj, the boy from India. While we had never spoken directly, I knew he was very intelligent and skilled at piecing together fine gear-work. “Manoj? Will you not assist someone who needs aid?” I didn’t know much about his customs or religion, but I did know he had a deeply embedded code of honor.
He crossed his arms.
I couldn’t believe this group of boys would not wish to band together for their own improvement within the class. There had to be a way to get through to them. “If we succeed at this, it will be a triumph.”
“The way I see it,” Michael began, “there’s nothing in it from where we’re standing. Should we fail, our grandsons will bear the shame of it, but if we succeed, our automaton still won’t be seen as superior to the other one.”
I felt as if he had just doused me with a bucket of icy water. “What do you mean?”
“Well, because . . . you know,” he hedged.
“Because I’m a girl.” My face felt hot.
He shrugged.
Noah lifted his chin in a lordly manner. “I’m sorry, Miss Whitlock. Your latest tasks have been prone to failure.” He tugged on the lapels of his jacket and then caught the eye of each of the others. Like sheep in a damned flock, they turned to him. “You have to admit that outcome is likely.”
That was not my fault!
“What about you, Manoj? Are you brave enough to stand against this?”
He tipped his head down in a lukewarm bow of sorts. “My apologies. The others are correct.”
“I suppose you will all abandon your duty to this Academy. You will willingly turn away an opportunity to create something together, and in the process humiliate us all when our automatons fall on their faces. For what?” I scolded. “Well, you can keep your foolish pride.” I glared at the sparse group. There at the edge stood Peter.
He smiled at me hopefully. I stood dumb, not knowing what to say. He was the only person I counted as a friend in the whole of the Academy, and the one person I’d been practically ordered not to trust. The room began to slowly clear as apprentices left in small groups.
“I’ll help you,” he said, as if it were a foregone conclusion.
My throat tightened up, and as he stepped closer to the automaton, I held my hand out. He paused, my fingertips only inches from his chest.
“I’m . . .” For the life of me, I didn’t know what to say.
His gaze lowered as I watched the hurt and disappointment throw shadows over his sweet face. “You don’t want my help, do you?”
By God, he thought I had no faith in him. The crushed look in his eyes broke my heart. “Peter, it’s not that I don’t want the help. It’s just that . . .” What was I supposed to say?
He scowled, his expression turning from hurt to anger. “Yes, well, I’ll save you the embarrassment. Forget that I ever suggested it.” And with that he turned away and followed the other apprentices up the steps and out of the hall, leaving me alone in the cavernous room.
I clenched my fists.
“Dammit,” I muttered.
I marched directly to the automaton and looked her in the blank face, seeing my own fury reflected back at me. “Damn. It.” I kicked the machine in the bloody shin.
And immediately
crumpled in pain as fire shot through my boot straight up my leg. I could have sworn I felt it in my fingertips as I hopped to one of the gallery benches and collapsed there.
What was I going to do?
Nursing my foot, I tried to weigh my options through the pain of my injury and my defeat. This was too much. I couldn’t do this entirely on my own. I wasn’t meant to do this on my own. This was supposed to be a group effort, and I had no help. I was forced to reject the aid of the only person who seemed to be on my side.
I held back a choice curse, biting on it like a sour thing in my mouth. The other apprentices were never going to willingly help, and it simply wasn’t fair to expect me to try to do this by myself.
I couldn’t do it.
Lifting my foot, I tried to nurse it, but my skirts impeded me. Resting my foot on the step, I stared at my empty hands lying in my lap.
I had to try.
Simon Pricket’s notes could only take me so far. I needed a way to figure things out on my own and the mettle to do it.
It left me only one choice.
I had to speak with the headmaster and ask him for permission to study some of the drawings in the archives. We weren’t allowed to handle them without permission, since many were very old and crumbling. Still, if I laid out a tick sack and lived with the dusty tomes, perhaps divine inspiration would strike and I would discover a means out of this catastrophe.
As I walked down the empty halls, the heels of my boots clicked on the hard stone like the steady tock, tock, tock of my time at the Academy running out. But as I approached the headmaster’s office, another sound reached me.
Voices.
Angry voices.
I slowed, not wanting to listen. It wasn’t my business, really.
I heard something smash, then clatter to the floor, and I stiffened. Unable to move, I found myself bound to the spot by warring indecision—between my desire to investigate and my overpowering urge to flee.
“She is only in the position she’s in because you favor her!” I knew that voice. Unfortunately, I knew the sentiment as well. It was Samuel. I immediately turned on my heel.
Rise of the Arcane Fire Page 14