by Scott Lynch
“Run!” cried Erasmo.
Pei Pei could not move. She stared at the rising airship. The distance made the men inside look like toy manikins through the window of a dollhouse, but she saw Presteign recoil at something behind him. He backed toward her until stopped by the viewport glass. A green stovepipe hat bobbed into view. Pei Pei barely glimpsed the Tinker’s grin as he weighed a bundle of dynamite in either hand.
The airship explosion left them all blind, deaf, unable to walk or even drag their bodies away from the burning pit that had become Presteign’s grave. After what seemed like hours, a few of the bolder prisoners returned for food and water.
Of those who had escaped the dig and come back to release the others, only the cripples survived. Invincible Tsau had lived up to his name. That miracle was some solace, but Pei Pei could not help thinking of the ones they lost.
She might never meet another Engineer clever enough to rebuild such rabbit legs, but that didn’t matter. With or without legs, Doc and the Tinker taught her to walk. They were the parents of her second life.
Eventually they gathered most of the prisoners together and led them back to the village. Promises of rewards inspired the groeperos to act as messengers, and within a week the first of the coaches arrived to take the survivors home. A few were wealthy enough to make arrangements for the others, at least after Erasmo had a quiet conversation with those who balked at the idea. One was grateful enough to bestow cash reward on their rescuers. With her share, Pei Pei knew she could start a new life in Sedoa or Sevenfork. Neither of those choices appealed.
“Where will the rest of you go?” she asked the others.
Erasmo carefully plucked the cigar from his mouth and held it in his left hand. The right no longer worked since the bullet had struck the mechanism. “I know I should visit my mother’s home,” he said. “But I do not have the heart to tell her what became of Blaz.”
Invincible Tsau turned back to see that Erasmo was talking. Since losing the mirrored hat, he had taken to glancing over his shoulder regularly. Pei Pei repeated her question.
“I don’t expect the Agency wants anything to do with me after this mess,” he said.
“The Society would make a place for me,” said the Widow. “And yet I do not think I would find it comfortable.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Pei Pei.
“What do you mean?” asked Erasmo.
“You’re coming with me.”
“But where?” said Invincible Tsau.
Pei Pei smiled. If Doc and the Tinker were her second parents, these were her brothers and sisters.
“When I fell, you helped me stand,” she said, thinking of all the other places that could use a hand from a group of determined cripples. “Now it’s time to take a walk.”
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Dave Gross is the author of about half a dozen fantasy novels, including Black Wolf and Lord of Stormweather for the Forgotten Realms, and Prince of Wolves and Master of Devils for Pathfinder. He lives in Alberta, Canada.
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