The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(74)

“I’m sorry, buddy. It’s just for a few days. Until we’re safe again.”

For the next hour, Aya carefully dissected Charlie, stopping only once to light some candles. She unscrewed each of his legs, unwound his winder all the way, and pulled apart gears and cogs smaller than her thumbnail. When she reached his center, she took out the vortric cog. She set it on top of her father’s tool kit for safekeeping, and proceeded to reassemble Charlie. Despite the cool air wafting through her window, beads of sweat formed along Aya’s forehead as she concentrated. The task of reassembling Charlie without the cog was like trying to build an eggshell without white or yoke inside. After another few hours, Aya had Charlie put back together. Unless she lifted him up and stared through exactly the right gap, she could not even tell a piece was missing.

Aya wrapped her hands around Charlie to support his frame and walked him over to his place by her bed. She set him on the wooden floor in a beam of moonlight from the window. He looked exactly as he had before, if not a little sad. Aya returned his sad smile before going back over to her chest and hiding away her father’s tool kit. She took the vortric cog in her hand and lay down in her bed.

Sighing, Aya turned Charlie so that he faced her. Since there was no risk of his jumping on her in the morning, she liked the idea of letting him stand sentinel by her bedside. She hadn’t changed into her spare nightgown, but she did unclasp the barrette and place it next to Charlie. She wanted these pieces of Willem, the dress and barrette, to surround her.

Opening her hand, Aya examined the vortric cog in the moonlight, puzzling over it one last time. She sighed again. It was just a cog. No one knew she had it. She was probably being paranoid. Still, she slipped it inside her dress, tucking it between her breast and the corset.

Blushing, she looked at Charlie. “I know it’s odd, but it will be safe here.”

Charlie, of course, did not reply. But Aya liked to think that he looked a little less troubled now.

“Besides, what better place for your heart than next to mine?”





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


Aya awoke to profound, painful silence. Before anything else, her eyes landed on Charlie, still watching over her, still motionless. She reached her hand into Willem’s mother’s dress and pressed the vortric cog between her fingers. She knew it was childish, but a small part of her had hoped that Charlie could still croak without the vortric cog so that she could just destroy the thing and never have to worry about it again. But of course, Aya knew better.

Reluctantly, Aya rolled out of bed and changed into her simple brown dress, keeping the cog on her person. She headed into the common room and leaned her ear against Dellwyn’s door. She waited until Dellwyn emitted a soft snore. Aya let out a long breath—she hadn’t realized that she had been holding it. At least Dellwyn’s return and slumber meant that she hadn’t had another run in with the strange man. Not for now, anyway.

Aya moved to the trunk they kept in the common room and searched for a writing implement and parchment. Sometimes, Dellwyn’s clients would give her rare trinkets like these as gifts. Apparently they were out or had not had any to begin with—Aya couldn’t be sure anymore—so she knew she must deliver her message by word of mouth. Her cloak still lay on Willem’s bedroom floor, so Aya grabbed Dellwyn’s off the wall. She wrapped it tightly around her shoulders and went out into the bright Desertera morning.

Aya was greeted by a hot gust of dusty wind and a swarm of grubby children. Delightful. She walked slowly to the palace, using the trip to formulate her message exactly. She wanted it to be vague enough that a guard would not comprehend its meaning but clear enough that Lord Varick would understand her without the need for further conversation.

As she reached the palace, Aya surveyed the guards near the stern. As promised, Lord Varick had about half a dozen guards stationed outside the ship. Near the propeller blades, Aya spied the graying guard who had led her to Lord Varick’s chambers when she’d first agreed to help with the mission. If Lord Varick had trusted him with information that first night, he must be good enough for her purposes today. Aya approached him and gave a small curtsy. “Good day, sir.”

“Good morning, m’lady.” The guard bowed. “How may I help you?”

Aya stepped in closer so she could lower her voice. The guards were spaced far enough apart that she did not think the others would hear her, but she did not want to take any chances. “Do you remember me?”

The guard nodded.

Aya pulled her cloak close to her cheek. “Can you deliver a message to Lord Varick for me?”

“Certainly.”

“It is very important.” Aya widened her eyes. “It needs to reach him as quickly as possible.”

The guard chuckled and spat on the ground. “I’m sure the fine people of Sternville will resist the urge to storm the palace if I step out of line for a moment.”

Aya smiled. “Tell him I have done what he asked. Tell him that I am waiting on instruction from a higher power and that I expect him to contact me immediately if he hears anything. I shall do the same.”

The guard bowed again. “Right away, miss.”

Aya did another curtsy then turned to leave. The guard cleared his throat, and she looked back at him over her shoulder.

“You know, you seem like a smart girl, but apparently you need told. Those higher powers you’re praying to, they haven’t been listening for decades. You need to put your faith in someone else.”