The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(55)



“Wonderful.”

As King Archon spoke this last word, he stopped in front of a large set of double doors. Being already in the stern, it hadn’t taken them more than a few minutes to walk to the engine room. Aya noticed that Eldric had followed them. However, he lingered a respectful distance behind, probably just within earshot. King Archon opened the double doors, which led to a wide staircase. Aya remembered these stairs. She had been so anxious to see the engine room last time that she had tripped on her dress.

The wide staircase ended on a red-carpeted platform where the nobles could stand to observe the work of the engineers and crewmen. Lanterns lit all along the platform allowed Aya to see across the wide room. A rickety, iron staircase led down from the platform, and Aya remembered that Alfred had not let her climb down it before. At the time, Aya had been annoyed with Alfred for treating her like a child. However, now she could see that it would have been a terrible idea to let her run loose in the engine room. The room was massive. It did not appear quite as vast as Aya remembered, but it was still the biggest room she had ever seen. Undoubtedly, if she had been allowed to run free within it, she either would have become lost or gotten an appendage caught in one of the giant machines.

These machines filled almost the entire space, except for a few pathways to allow the workmen to pass between them. A row of long machines lined one side of the room, limb-like with their round bottoms—a hip or a shoulder—and long rods—a leg or an arm—protruding from them. These rods connected to others that extended from the ceiling or walls, and Aya imagined they must move in some kind of circular motion to pump water or steam through the rest of the engine.

Even with some mechanical training from her father, Aya couldn’t begin to understand how the rest of the machinery might work. It was an interwoven system of pipes and cogs, of gears and levers. She wished that she could go back in time to see it move, see the way each piece flowed into the next to spin the propellers and lurch the ship forward.

King Archon came to stand next to her at the railing, his arm brushing against hers. He pointed his other arm out and leaned in closer to Aya. “Do you see those doors on the back wall?”

Aya followed the line of his arm. To her distaste, she had to lean her body toward the king to see exactly where he pointed. “Yes, I think so.”

“That’s where they used to put the coal.”

“The coal?” Aya’s brow furrowed.

“Yes.” King Archon rested his hand in the center of her back. Aya shuddered. “They would shovel heaps of coal into burning fires. The fires would heat the water and create steam to help the ship run.”

“What exactly is coal?” Aya looked up at the king, her eyes wide.

King Archon rubbed his chin. “You know, I’m not sure. I believe it looked like a black rock but not as hard. If you tried to smash it, it could crumble and leave ash everywhere.”

“Is there any left?” Aya took a step to the side, as if examining another part of the room. King Archon’s hand fell to his side. Her back felt cold where it had been.

“There might be, in the engine furnace or in some other storeroom back there. I’ve never bothered to have anyone look, honestly.”

“Why not?”

King Archon shrugged. “There’s no use for coal to run the ship without any water for it to sail on, is there?”

Aya glanced back at the engine room and did her best not to scoff. If coal really did burn, and if there were piles of it heaped behind those doors, they needed to retrieve it. Having coal to create warmth in the night and cook food would be far superior to tumbleweeds, crop stalks, and dried cacti. It could vastly improve the lives of the poor. More than that, Aya wanted to tell the king that knowing these things wasn’t just a matter of functionality. It was a matter of historicity, of preserving the collective past of Desertera. If the monarchy allowed all of this knowledge to be lost, what would they do if one of the so-called prophets turned out to be right and the rain came again?

Instead, she smiled and pushed herself back from the railing. “How silly of me. Of course you don’t need any coal.”

King Archon took Aya’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re quite adorable when you get all intellectual, Miss Aya.”

Aya felt herself flush, clenching her fist behind her back to avoid smacking him. King Archon smiled, no doubt taking her reddening as a maiden’s blush. Fool.

“Did you notice this?” King Archon walked to the other side of the platform, motioning to a bronze statue of some sort. It had a white face like a clock. However, instead of numbers, words extended out from the middle with a lever that pivoted around them. King Archon grabbed the lever and pushed it to the other side of the device. As he did so, the two brass bars around the word “Full” moved to surround “Two Thirds” then “Half” then “Stop.”

King Archon gazed at Aya. “Do you want to try?”

Aya moved to stand by the device, placing her hand on the lever. As she did, King Archon set his hand atop hers. He gripped her fingers around the lever and pulled it back to the word “Full.”

“What does it do?” Aya tried to remove her hand, but he held it against the lever.

“It used to tell the crewmen how hard to run the ship.” King Archon’s fingers traced hers. “There is one up in the captain’s cockpit on the deck, and it is linked to this one. The head engineer down here would use this to reply to the captain and signal the change in speed to the workmen.”

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