Daughters of Aether

by Nicholas Petrarch

  “What are you thinking about today?”

  “Breathing,” he chuckled.

  Emmaline’s face skewed a little. It didn’t seem like something that needed a lot of thought. Unless there was something that she was missing. She sat quietly trying to figure it out. She certainly didn’t want to appear foolish in front of her uncle. He seemed quite content with the sudden quiet and leaned back on the bench, his gaze wandering up into the branches of the old oak.

  She watched him closely as he lost himself in his own thoughts. Occasionally his lips would move slightly as though he were mouthing words to himself. Emmaline tried for a while to read those words, but his lips moved too little and too quickly for her to do it.

  In time the silence grew uncomfortable, and Emmaline couldn’t take it anymore. Silence alone was inviting, but silence with company was just awkward.

  “What’s so difficult about breathing?” she asked. “We’re doing it right now.”

  “Yes,” he smiled, coming out of his thoughts. “However, it gets increasingly more difficult underwater.”

  “Is this for your special project then?” she asked. She remembered the conversation at breakfast when he’d mentioned the ship that was supposed to sail under the water.

  “It is,” he nodded. “I can’t for the life of me figure out how to get breathable air into the chamber and keep it there.”

  “Why don’t you just poke a hole in the top and—”

  “—pipe it in with some sort of pump,” he concluded. “Yes, I’ve thought about that, but it just doesn’t work, you see? It doesn’t do to have a pipe sticking clear out of the water on a ship that’s meant to travel underneath the surface. It would basically act as a giant tether keeping the craft from diving very deep at all. And I’m not so sure it would be fit to navigate the storms which rage over the sea if it were so close to the…”

  He paused, looking a little sheepish.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “My tongue has gotten away with my mind again. It’s force of habit, and I’m afraid I’m rather poor company once I start. I shouldn’t bore you with theoretics. I’ve been warned I do it too often.”

  “I don’t mind,” Emmaline said. “I like listening to you talk.”

  “You’re very kind,” he smiled. “But I can’t be the only one who came to this spot with a purpose. What’s on a pleasant young girl’s mind so that she’s hidden herself away from the world?”

  “Nothing,” Emmaline said.

  “Nothing at all?”

  Emmaline crouched over her knees, resting her chin between them.

  “You know,” he continued. “Sometimes saying something out loud is the first step to understanding it ourselves. It works wonders, I assure you. If you’ve got a good pair of ears, that is. Or a good wall,” he added.

  Emmaline clutched her legs to herself tighter. It felt like there were many emotions swirling around inside her. Everything was colors, blended together and bleeding into one another with their many sensations. She wanted to voice them, to let them out, but she wasn’t sure where to begin. She focused on the hollow space within her chest, staring deep into it until a feeling surfaced enough to form a thought, and she grasped at it with her words.

  “I don’t want to be here.”

  “In Hatteras?” Uncle Lewis asked.

  Emmaline nodded.

  “Now why is that?”

  “Because ever since we arrived I feel like everyone has been watching me. Everyone has an idea about what I’m supposed to do. Half the time my decisions are already made for me. And when I do have a choice, it’s only ever about things that seem… pointless. I never get a moment to myself and no one listens when I try to say what I want. I feel like they want me to grow up all at once, but I’m not even sure I want to yet.”

  Emmaline sat up a little, surprised at how quickly she’d been able to vocalize what she’d been feeling once she’d gotten started.

  “I can see how that would be frustrating,” Uncle Lewis said.

  “And I can’t tell if my father is happy with me or not,” Emmaline continued. “I’ve tried to do what he’s asks, but I can’t tell if I’m doing it right. It’s like trying to impress a complete stranger.”

  She stared hard at the ground.

  “He doesn’t feel like my father anymore.”

  Her uncle nodded, his gaze focused on the same point as hers. “I’ve known your father all of my life,” he said, “and I understand how difficult it can be to gain his approval. Your father is a very… well, he’s a very focused man. What occupies his mind he gives everything to—and that means sometimes he may neglect others. It’s a trait he’s had since we were kids. I can’t tell you how often something would catch his eye and I’d be left in the yard to play by myself.”

  “He did that to you, too?”

  “Countless times,” he laughed, though it didn’t feel as warm as it usually did. “It hurt when he did it, but over the years I realized that he’s never really abandoned me. For example, when I came to Hatteras with your father I failed to establish myself. It was he who reached out to me. He shared a portion of his own prosperity so that I wouldn’t go without. A truly selfish man would have easily ignored the sufferings of a failed brother, but not your father. He may have trouble showing it, but family is something he holds in high regard. And he safeguards it, often at his own expense.”

  “But he’s so miserable all the time,” Emmaline complained.

  “Lately he does seem to be glummer,” Uncle Lewis conceded. “Perhaps he’s just going through a season. You, for example, are struggling with a transition of your own. You’ve had a remarkable spring, and you’ve bloomed into a beautiful young woman. You are a breath of fresh air here, Emmaline. But summer is coming, and the heat of summer can be unbearable at times. It forces us to adapt. Forces us to grow. Your father is trying to protect you as you grow into the woman you’re destined to become, like this great tree is shading you now.”

  Emmaline looked up into the bows of the oak, again watching as the light of the sun danced between its leaves.

  “Your father, as estranged as he may feel, loves you. I’m sure he only wants the best for you, as he has for me all these years. I’d be nothing without your father,” he said. His voice had grown solemn, and Emmaline sensed the guilt of years in his voice. “I owe him a fortune for that, but sadly he’ll have to settle for my gratitude alone for the time being.”

  “Is that why you were trying to convince him of your submersible idea?” Emmaline asked.

  “It is,” he nodded. “Perhaps it is as crazy an idea as he thinks, but I hope not. I could see it helping him quite a bit if it worked.”

  Emmaline was silent as she pondered her uncle’s words. It made sense, yet somehow it didn’t make it any easier for her to accept.

  “What if I don’t want to grow up yet?” she asked.

  Her uncle thought a moment about that, rubbing the bench’s arm gently. “I don’t believe anyone should be too eager to grow up,” he concluded. “But, grow up we do. Someday, somewhere we least expect it, we’re faced with a moment or a choice and we find ourself on the other side of the divide. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Childhood is a beautiful thing, but so too is womanhood. It’s a time when you’ll decide what type of person you’ll choose to be.”

  “But ever since we’ve arrived in Hatteras it feels like I haven’t been allowed to make any of my own choices,” Emmaline said. “Even my dresses are chosen for me. How will I know what to do then if nobody gives me a chance to make my own decisions now?”

  “You have a point there,” Uncle Lewis smiled. “So what would you do?”

  “Do with what?”

  “What would you do?” he repeated. “Let’s say there were no restrictions. No expectations placed upon you. You’re free to be your own person. What would you do?”

  Emmaline thought hard.

  “I’d apologize to Stoddard,” she said. “He didn’t deserve to be trea
ted the way he was. He was only trying to see me and everyone was so cruel to him. And I put him in such a poor situation at the race. I wish I could tell him I’m sorry.”

  “And why can’t you?” he asked. “Do you know where he’d be right now?”

  Emmaline nodded reluctantly. She supposed he would be at his master’s shop.

  “Then what’s so difficult about it?”

  “You don’t think that would be improper?” Emmaline asked. “To show up uninvited like that? What if he just wants to forget all about it?”

  “My dear girl,” her uncle chuckled. “It’s never improper to do the decent thing.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Rigimor's Shop

  “MAYBE I SHOULDN’T DO THIS,” Emmaline said, peering out of the carriage at her uncle. He stood at the side of the street, his hand extended toward her. Somehow he’d managed to get her to come this far, but as she read the sign over the little shop she was second guessing her decision.

  “Out of the carriage,” he smirked. “We’ve come this far already. We can’t let cold feet stop us now. You said so yourself, this is the right thing to do.”

  “Perhaps I could just send him a letter?” Emmaline suggested.

  “While I’m sure he would welcome that too, I think not,” Uncle Lewis said, his face growing humorously serious. “It would be much better, I think, if this type of message was received directly.” He motioned for her to take his hand. “Come on now. It only makes it worse when we put off the inevitable.”

  Emmaline took his hand reluctantly and allowed him to help her down from the carriage. They’d stopped in a small alcove off the main street, just outside of the Spire. Rigimor’s, the sign read. The shop was a small building, its brick walls fitted in snuggly with those adjacent to it. Through the window could be seen a number of clocks and timepieces on display of all shapes and sizes.

  “I feel like my legs are going to give out,” Emmaline said.

  “And that is why you’ve brought me along,” her uncle said, taking her arm in his. “One step at a time. That’s how all the greats have done it before us. What do you say we follow their lead?”

  Emmaline clutched his arm and followed him up to the door.

  “Rigimor’s,” he said, reading the sign on the window. “Always thought that a curious name for a tinkerer.”

  They entered the storefront and were greeted by the pleasant chime of a bell. It sang out with a warm tone and Emmaline heard a voice from the back call out that he’d be with them in a moment. Soon an elderly gentleman appeared, wiping the inside of some sort of canister with a rag.

  “Good afternoon,” he smiled. “Sorry for the wait. My name is Rigimor.”

  Emmaline had to fight back a laugh as the man introduced himself. She’d seen him before at her father’s dinner party, but now that she saw him she realized just how awkward a man he looked. His eyes drifted as he talked so that she wondered where exactly he was looking, or else if he might somehow be looking at two places at once.

  “Lewis von Cappa,” her uncle said with a flourish of his hand. “We’ve met a time or two before, Mr. Rigimor.”

  “Oh yes,” Rigimor smiled. “I do remember you. Lord Worthington’s brother, was it?”

  “One and the same.”

  “Family of Worthington is always welcome here. What can I do for you today?”

  “Actually,” Uncle Lewis said. “My niece is the one here on business. She was hoping for an opportunity to speak with your apprentice.”

  “Oh?” Rigimor said. His eyes skewed as he looked Emmaline over and she had to fight not to laugh. “What business do you have with Stoddard?”

  “It’s of a personal nature,” Emmaline said shyly.

  “Mmhmm.” Rigimor stroked his chin, but his eyes seemed to squint with humor. “He’s just in the back. Give me a moment and I’ll send him out.”

  He retreated through the curtain which separated the shop.

  “Do you know, I think I saw something outside that needed my attention,” Uncle Lewis said suddenly. “I should probably attend to it before it gets away from me.”

  Emmaline turned on him with a look of pure alarm. “No. Uncle, please!” she begged, but he was already walking to the door.

  “Won’t be a minute,” he insisted. He gave her a wink on his way out and exited with a grin.

  Emmaline made a noise of desperation under her breath. Her uncle wasn’t going to let her turn back until she’d accomplished her purpose. She was beginning to regret their conversation from earlier, or bringing him along altogether. They’d agreed it would be better if she went with a companion, but he was pushing her forward faster than she was ready.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  While she waited, Emmaline’s eyes wandered over the many devices in the shop from great grandfathers to tiny pocket watches. Each ticked away with a life of its own. There were other devices whose function she couldn’t discern. She wandered through the vast collection which lined the walls and filled the shelves. To think that someone had taken the time to craft so many delicate creations must have been a remarkable feat of patience. She was certain she would never be up to such a task.

  Leaning over one of the cases, Emmaline ran her fingers over a particularly curious piece. It had a simple casing, but etched into the face was a little bird fluttering around the edge of a cityscape. As she touched it, the bird turned on a dial so that it circled the length of the circumference. She smiled as she let it go and watched the bird flutter forward with each tiny tick.

  It was beautiful.

  “I’m sorry to keep you wait—” Stoddard froze in the doorway when he saw Emmaline.

  Emmaline was a little surprised herself. She’d always seen Stoddard collected and trim, but he was a bit disheveled at the moment. His coat and vest were gone, his sleeves were rolled high on his arms, and the top button of his shirt unfastened.

  But what completed the ensemble was the addition of a pair of multi-lens spectacles which were raised to his forehead. Emmaline couldn’t hold back a giggle and turned away. Stoddard realized his embarrassment and scrambled to return himself to a presentable state.

  “Sorry,” he said once his shirt was tucked in. He stripped the spectacles from his head and set them down on the counter. “I wasn’t expecting a woman in the shop.”

  Emmaline smiled, but then she remembered the reason she was there and the two of them fell into an awkward silence. Neither was sure what to say.

  The clocks kept time of each uncomfortable second.

  “Was there something I could help you with?” Stoddard asked.

  “I…”

  Emmaline felt quite foolish. Why had she come again? Certainly she’d meant to apologize for what had happened at the race and the horrible way Stoddard had been treated, but now that she was standing face-to-face with him she wasn’t sure how to begin.

  She glanced toward the window to see her uncle chuckling outside.

  “Did you make all of these?” Emmaline asked.

  “Many of them,” Stoddard said. “I’ve been apprenticed here quite a few years now.”

  “There must be hundreds,” she said.

  “Three hundred and thirty two,” Stoddard said. “Rigimor has me keep a thorough inventory.”

  Emmaline looked impressed. She wasn’t sure, but she got the impression he was showing off a little.

  “How do you deal with the noise?”

  “It’s not so bad as it seems at first,” Stoddard explained. “To a mechanist, it’s one of the most pleasant sounds in the world. Like each device has a little heartbeat of its own. It’s a testament to its creator.”

  “Which is you,” Emmaline pointed out.

  “Yes,” Stoddard smiled.

  Emmaline continued to wander the shelves, aware and a little thrilled as Stoddard followed behind. There was such variety, and as she passed over them, she could hear the tiny heartbeats beating.

  And then, as she hovered over on
e, she couldn’t hear it.

  “This one isn’t ticking,” she said.

  Stoddard lifted the watch and held it near his ear. Emmaline smiled. He handled it as delicately as if it were a little bird.

  “It must have run down,” he said. “Simple enough to fix. I’ll rewind it before we close up shop.”

  She nodded and rounded one of the shelves.

  “Emmaline,” Stoddard said, stopping at the end of the shelf. “Why are you here?”

  Emmaline felt her senses tingle, and she tried to show interest in another watch.

  “I would have thought you’d be busy somewhere with Edmond.”

  “Why would you think that?” she asked.

  “Well, I thought…” Stoddard fumbled with his words. “I was under the impression that your family favored him. That… you favored him.”

  “I’m sorry for the way they treated you at the pier. It wasn’t right of them to say those things.”

  “No,” Stoddard said, raising his hand to stop her. “They were right to do it. They reminded me where I was. I had no business being there. A tradesman’s apprentice has no place among the meritocracy. It wasn’t earned.”

  “I wanted to tell you,” Emmaline began, “that I thought what you did was very… noble.”

  Stoddard looked confused. “But I lost.”

  “Maybe,” Emmaline said. “But you said yourself that you’d never flown like that before. Right?”

  “No,” Stoddard admitted. “I hadn’t.”

  “And you still nearly beat Edmond back to the pier. I was watching the whole time,” she said. “Even when you knew that Edmond was just trying to make you look foolish you kept on going anyway. You gave it everything you had. How do you think Edmond would have done if he’d been in your shoes?”

  “I see what you’re getting at,” Stoddard said, fighting a smile. “And I appreciate you trying to make me feel better about it. But it doesn’t matter in the end.”

  “Yes it does!” Emmaline insisted.

  “Not really,” he said. “It was a good race. I’ll accept your compliment. But after all that’s happened nothing really changes. This is what I am.” He gestured to the shop. “I’m still here.”