“I am looking at you.” The tone had changed, the words spoken with a breathless burr.
Her hand stilled in mid-air. She babbled again, raking her hair so furiously that Charles, who was next to her, was forced to back away to avoid getting elbowed in the eye.
“I have to find my comb and pins. Must put my hair up and I can’t do a thing without my ha—”
Before she finished her sentence, Charles reached over to gently brush a tendril of brown hair out of her eyes.
The tips of his fingers just barely touched her brow causing a shiver to run through her.
He smiled, slow and sure. “It appears I have saved your life. This is twice now, princess, and...” He paused, searching her face. “I would like to claim my reward.” He began to bend down.
Strange feelings again streamed through her, emotions she could not name or understand. Every part of her body electrified. And Charles was the cause.
Terrified, she twisted her hair and draped it over one shoulder, but not before she had flicked him in the face with the end of her braid.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Now where did I put those dratted pins?” Her voice was louder, higher.
His breath warmed the side of her face.
She twisted away. “Charles, please! Don’t be absurd. This isn’t a game. You’re not Prince Charming!”
The words had been spoken with a laugh, but he stiffened and a shadow passed over his face. His lips had been inches from hers, but now he backed away. “Prince? And that is important to you?” he whispered.
If only she hadn’t said that! She spoke lightly, “You know what I mean.”
Charles frowned and sat up. “No, I assure you, my lady, I do not. Absurd. Ridiculous. And not Prince Charming. Not quite the description I was hoping to hear. I’m beginning to think you truly believe that.”
He rose to his feet.
A ragged tear in the back of his leather outfit flapped open, and she caught a glimpse of bloody gashes on his back. A whiff of coppery blood caused her nostrils to crinkle.
How poorly she had rewarded him!
Berd watched as he retied the strings of his leather garb. She told herself she had done the right thing, but there was a dreadful emptiness in her she could not name. When he reached down to offer his hand, she took it, stiffly getting to her feet. His skin was icy cold, his touch indifferent, utilitarian. Whatever magic there had been earlier was gone.
Chapter Twelve
AS SOON AS Berd was on her feet, Charles relinquished her hand. She watched as he clenched his jaw, pushed his shoulders back, and aimed for the path a few steps away. Except to check she was by his side, he took no more notice of her.
I have done the right thing.
To add to her confusion, the forest of steel, copper, gold and silver grew abruptly quiet as the metallic eruptions slowed to a stop. Berd had never seen anything like it. Had her altercation with Charles been the cause? Or had the growth reached its natural conclusion?
Or was the forest silent, because it was listening to them?
She shuddered.
While they had travelled by train, the green-enamelled computerscape had been a desert; yet they were now walking through a metal forest. Something had caused the drastic change, this sudden growth of trees. There had to be meaning to everything she had seen and experienced, and she knew she needed to find the answer. She suspected it was a matter of life and death.
Specifically, hers.
As they came around the bend, the whiff of metal pressed upon her tongue. The air misted and soon the clatter of their feet on the green was drowned out by a roar. A peculiar muffled thudding shook the ground as if giant Clydesdales, their hooves wrapped in pillows, trampled the soil nearby. Surely it had to be a sign another earthquake was imminent.
“Charles?”
“We’re here,” he announced softly.
Ahead the road straightened, and the wall of trees parted to reveal hazy golden sky looming from the ground up. If the forest of metal trees they were leaving behind seemed strange, then the sight in front of them was even queerer. They were on the edge of a plateau, below them stretching a flat plain studded with... monstrous formations.
Gigantic boulders balanced on columns – ringed columns – if they could even be called that, rose in strange, precipitous structures.
“Book stacks!” she cried out in sheer amazement. “They look like stacks of books.”
Charles flourished his arm, silver-blue eyes blazing with pride. “Therefore its nickname: the Stack. Welcome to the Store!”
So this was the Store. Another cry of wonder escaped her lips at the incredible sight.
Each pile was propped on two columns. Steam emerged from funnels at the top of every book stack. The books themselves were of polished iron, about the height of a cottage and from each, copper wires trailed down to the ground, glinting in the golden light. With about a dozen books on each pair of columns, and every column the height of Big Ben, Berd couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the collection – there were hundreds of them. Mostly walking.
But it made sense. Books were the repository of knowledge, so books seemed the logical choice. Only these were books like no other.
She turned to Charles, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “How on earth are we going to find the answer in there?”
He raised his brows. “We?”
The stack closest to them moved, or more precisely, staggered; its columns bent at the centre just like knees would flex when walking. Now she understood the origin of the muffled thuds.
“They’re alive!” she gasped.
“No!” Charles scowled. “They’re autonomous machines dredging the ground for data.”
Autonomous machines were machines that governed themselves. But of course, these things were possible, she reminded herself. She had seen one such automaton sketch a picture, and she had also read about them in books; after all this was the Industrial Age. Even Babbage had his Silver Lady, one of two automatic dolls. If Berd wanted evidence of the impossible, here she was, herself, within an engine. She turned to watch as the book stack pulled its wiry roots out of what she had thought solid green enamel, then clomp clumsily about a hundred yards, where it shifted its load and settled into its new spot, sending down new copper roots. Clouds of steam puffed happily out of its funnel, dissipating quickly in the open air.
Grandmother Bird had often quoted Babbage, stating that in order to study anything, one ought firstly to place oneself at a distance from it and then to approach gradually to investigate the details. Well, soon Berd would be amongst these clanking giants.
“Our path lies that way.” He pointed to their left where a small waterfall glistened half a mile away. Spray shot into the air in a luminescent blue halo as if angels danced in the skies above. Skeins of silken liquid dashed onto the rocks below while a thundering banter reached her ears. The waterfall was laughing.
So this was the cause of the roar. But no water ever gleamed with such iridescence. It was energy and not water gushing along.
Energy.
Like the river of energy she had lain in. The battery bugs... The computerscape and everything in it was energy.
“Come.” But while Charles strode forward fearlessly, her feet would not move.
This is a trap.
The joke was on her.
Gine was tempting Charles, hoping Charles would give in. Or perhaps Charles had deliberately planned this route so he would appear to have no choice but to yield to such great temptation. Already the waterfall’s closeness affected her. Her throat was noticeably drier, her stomach emptier.
“It’s not what you think,” Charles called out when he had gone a few steps and noticed she had not followed.
She flicked a glance heavenwards and scrambled after him. “You knew we had to come this way,” she said, when she caught up.
“Of course I did, but it’s not what you think,” he answered, his voice strained.
In the op
en light, the blue half-circles under his eyes were deeper. The energy was affecting him. Only he seemed to be resisting, every muscle in his body taut. Now she wondered if it really was true that he would not survive two days without the energy.
“Are we to enter the energy?”
“There’s a funicular rail along the side.”
She couldn’t help but notice how his hand shook slightly as he pointed to a tiny bubble-shaped car hunched beside the edge of the waterfall, almost invisible in the blue ethereal glow. The stink of grease and paraffin blew in her face.
“Why not summon a hot air balloon or some other form of transport that would not require us draw near the waterfall?”
“Why? The car is perfectly safe. You’re not planning on jumping into the waterfall, are you?” His face brightened, the thought clearly entertaining him greatly.
She turned and tossed her head. “No, of course not, but—”
“Trust me, princess.” His tone was husky.
They walked the half mile together. The odour of grease and paraffin grew stronger as they neared, and the wavering blue glow enclosed them. Hunger blazed within her.
Yet, it was Charles she found herself looking at. Outlined in the shimmering blue translucence emitted from the energy, his lean face appeared fey. His eyes glinted ravenously. His lips curled back slightly, as if he already tasted the energy.
This is what will become of me if I do not partake. I will go feral and die. But partaking is not a choice.
She dug her nails into the palms of her hands until pain came. She should not do this. It was foolish to continue. She had to turn back. Now. She was about to bolt when she felt his hand grasp hers.
Warmth filled her, replacing the chill from the spray; the chill that permeated the entire Engine.
“Princess.” Charles’s face was all planes and angles in the blue glow. He bared his teeth at the waterfall and snarled, a predator readying to attack.
“Charles, I d—”
“Don’t look at the waterfall or it will be harder to resist jumping in.” He winked. His chest was rising and falling with effort, yet he still teased her.
Peeved, she narrowed her eyes at him.
A corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a half-smile, and for a moment she thought he was about to lean forward and try to kiss her again, but all he said was, “Concentrate on the car. Remember. I have never lied to you.”
He has never lied to me.
The thought flickered, brightening through her mind, like red and gold leaves flying through the autumn sky.
He has never lied to me, but I cannot say the same for Gine.
Berd pressed her lips together, hard, fixed her gaze on the car and despite the emptiness whipping in her stomach, kept walking.
“Look only at the car,” Charles said, again master of the situation.
The car was constructed of steel. Completely spherical. She imagined entering and Charles sealing the door. They would be completely enclosed. Exactly like in a t—
“Tomb!” She inhaled sharply, whipping her head from side to side as if awakened from a nightmare. “It’s a coffin!”
Her hands thrashed as she tried to pull free. She should have seen that Charles was leading them to their deaths!
“Princess,” his strong voice commanded as he gathered her to his chest.
The world stilled. As if in a dream, she lowered her hands.
Soft silver eyes met her gaze.
Please enter.
Somehow they were already at the car, and Charles had opened the door for her.
In a daze, Berd found herself sinking onto a seat. If only she could sleep. Sleep and not wake. She was weak. So weak. And Charles was mean not to let her partake. Just because he was bigger than her. Just because he was stronger than her. Just because he was in lov—
The door slammed.
A pop went off within her head. And sound, harsh and painful, swam back into her ears, almost deafening her. But her mind cleared and she could see again. Think again.
She moaned, instinctively cupping her hands over her ears, and blinked away tears. It had been that painful. She must have been in a trance.
“Wake up! Wake up, now.” Charles was shaking her. Heat from his hands seeped into her being. “I meant it. We’re safe. Not just safe from the waterfall, but the energy, too. And Gine. The car’s a Faraday shield which means we’re enclosed so Gine can’t hear us. Now quick, I have so much to tell you and we haven’t enough time. First of all, are you all right?” He scanned her face.
“I’m fine. Fine,” she said then realised that she was supporting her head in her hands.
Berd stared in front of her as the world blurred and then cleared in turns. She heard Charles rifling in a cupboard. Something brushed her lips and a familiar odour reached her. Instinctively, she gulped, swallowing the cool liquid.
“Water,” she muttered, when she was able to stop drinking. She hiccoughed then focused on the object that Charles was now drinking from. It was a bladder.
Dim yellow light from the glass overhead shone on rounded metal walls. She was seated on a narrow curving bench that circled a third of the wall’s circumference. Directly in front of the door to her right was a small, built-in cupboard. Its hinged metal door was open, blocking its contents from her view, but the ever-present humming was gone.
Except for Charles’s soft swallowing, all was quiet.
No sound came to her of the car’s motor as it travelled down the side of the plateau. She had to believe it was moving.
“How on earth did you get water?” she asked, for as far as she remembered neither the Difference, Analytical nor the Ghost Engines required steam to function.
He lowered the bladder from his mouth then flung it back into the cupboard. Only one bladder and she had nearly finished it. She bit her lip.
But if she was upset with her selfishness, Charles did not appear to be. Rummaging in the cupboard, his voice was muffled, excited.
“The book stacks. I collected steam from their engines the last time I was here and stored a bladder in the car for emergencies. There was water in the locomotive tender, too, but that was undrinkable. When I placed the car here, I didn’t think its nearness to the energy would be a problem. The waterfall powers it, so it made sense at the time to have the Faraday car close. Since the second lightning strike, the volume of the waterfall has increased massively. I just never thought one day I would see the energy in a different light.”
That was probably the closest he was going to come to admitting the energy was dangerous, but what she really wanted was for him to confess that Gine was dangerous. She had to know whose side Charles was on. She sighed. Still, it was poor manners to be ungrateful when he had shared his water with her.
Gingerly, she rubbed her hands over her face. When they came away, there were brownish-red stains on them. It must have come from when he had grasped her hand to encourage her on.
Blood.
Blood from when he was injured trying to shield her from the impact of the fall when the road lifted. She attempted to wipe it off on her woollen pants. It seemed having her in the Engine was a liability to Charles. But the Engine had allowed her in.
“Did we come this way for the water?” Her voice was tight.
Charles closed the cupboard door and then plunked himself down beside her. “No, we do need the settings. It was handy the car was here. I created the car assuming that, should ever the waterfall overflow, a Faraday shield would provide protection from the excess energy. I only wish I had placed the car further away from the falls. Didn’t occur to me at the time. I could move it now, but it would require energy, and the last thing I want is to drain the Engine of any energy.”
This was probably why he hadn’t created a hot-air balloon. He was trying to conserve energy. He was the expert on it. “You survived one whole year in here,” she said.
He shrugged. “Had I known what to do when I was first pulled in, I would have been able t
o escape. But I didn’t, and by the time I did, it was too late. There was insufficient energy to get me out. But now you’re here, and we have sufficient.”
Charles clapped his hands together. “Now quick, what did Gine speak to you about? The whole story this time,” he demanded. “How many days did he give me?”
She had to tell him he was dying, she would be wrong not to. He had the right to know. “Two.”
Unperturbed, Charles nodded, as if he expected that answer. “That is Gine. Exactitude is his forte, but we have the advantage. He has promised not to try anything for twenty-four hours.”
“Nothing? What did you call that episode earlier amongst the tree tops?”
“When the road erupted?” His voice lowered. “You’ve made yourself very clear on that matter. It won’t occur again.”
The road had erupted because Gine was trying to separate Charles from me. To prevent a kiss.
She turned her head to the side so he could not see her blush, and busied herself with a ruffle on her blouse.
“We have twenty-two hours left. It will be tight, but if Gine does nothing, we should be able to make it.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, as if getting rid of nervous energy. The whole car vibrated around her with his movement, the scent of leather strengthening dizzyingly. His shoulders kept bumping against hers; his legs seemed to stretch from one end of the car to the other.
She moved to the furthest end of the seat, as far away from him as possible.
“What you need right now is a map. I’m surprised you never asked for one.” He pulled out a pen, pulled the cupboard door open, then leaned across her and started sketching on the blank inner door in front of her. “That way, if anything were to happen to me, you will be able to find your way out. Now we are here. In the middle.” He stabbed his finger against the centre of the cupboard door.
A map? A map meant he trusted her, because it meant she could use the map to go anywhere she wanted, without him. He trusted her in his Engine.
Not only had Charles never lied to her, he trusted her.
The Ghost Engine Page 11