The Steele Wolf (Iron Butterfly #2)(55)

Fanny looked exhausted and slumped on a stool as she slowly explained. “I was approached by a man who lives in Thunder Valley about creating an invention that harvests the lightning from within the valley. The valley’s rocks and grounds hold a constant charge, which draws unusual amounts of lightning storms and thunder. If I could create a machine that could draw the charges and lightning strikes from the sky to the machine then it would make it safe for the area to be settled by people year round instead of just the fall and winter. And at the same time the people would be able to use the lightning as a renewable energy source to power the village. I was to create the plans for one for the gentleman and create a small version to be used as a test subject. What you see behind me is the test version I created.” Fanny motioned behind her.

Pulling Hemi with me, we approached and I took a closer look at the device and saw that it was indeed smaller and there were slight differences in her machine than the one used to torture me. It was missing the bands with the needles that pressed into the pressure points and along the arms of the victim. My fingers unconsciously traced the slight scars on the underside of my arm. My body shivered uncontrollably as I recalled Raven discussing using the machine to activate something in my blood. Tears burned at the corner of my eyes as I grabbed a hammer from a table and began to beat at the contraption. I released all of my pent up anger, hurt, fear, and frustration on it.

With each metallic ring that echoed from the hammer strike, the guilt over not being able to save Cammie melted away. Tym’s death, his brother Sal, Kael, Tenya; I let the hammer be the therapy my mind needed in order to heal completely from the past. Finally exhausted, I realized I wasn’t doing enough damage other than dent it. I picked up a pickaxe and tried prying it apart. Fanny watched me silently, eyes wide in confusion. She never spoke or tried to stop me.

Hemi let me vent my frustration but after a few minutes decided to help me. The giant clansmen reached up with his massive hands to yank at what I called the wings and Fanny told us was the lightning catcher. Bringing it down from the wall, it rang with a dull thud as it landed on the earthen floor. He gripped the metal bands on the wings and began to pull with all of his strength against the rivets holding it together. Hemi grunted and sweat started to form on his forehead as the bands creaked and resisted his strength. Finally they snapped apart and rattled to the floor in a heap. Reaching for another piece he started to do the same. Somewhere deep inside I knew I wasn’t leaving until I had torn the machine apart.

A shadow to my left made me turn in surprise. I saw Fanny with her apron donned and a determined look on her face. She grabbed a tool and started prying at the rivets, helping us to dismantle her own invention. We worked for what seemed like days but really could only have been an hour in silence. When the iron butterfly-lightning catcher was completely dissembled and no longer resembling anything other than a pile of garbage, Fanny finally found her breath to speak up.

“You do realize that what we took apart wasn’t the one that tortured you, right?” Her eyes showed only compassion as she held out her hand to take the hammer I had dropped on the floor and began put it away.

“Yes, I know,” I replied meekly, wiping my sweat-covered hands on my pants. “The one used on me was different, bigger.” I explained the differences and the way in which the larger one had been altered to hold a person in the middle and lock them into it, with pressure bands that pierced the arms. Fanny looked sick to her stomach.

“I usually hate destroying my inventions, but this one obviously should never have been created.” Fanny walked over to a cupboard and pulled out some ointment and strips of bandages and waited patiently in front of Hemi. When he didn’t move she tapped her foot angrily and demanded. “Hands.”

Hemi looked startled and held up two cut and bloody hands face up to her. Fanny cleaned the wounds and applied a salve to them before wrapping them in bandages.

“Why don’t you do that thing you do and heal them?” Hemi asked surprised.

“Because I only use my gifts for emergencies. Not for little cuts that can heal on their own and acts of stupidity like yours,” Fanny shot back with a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Hemi stared back at the woman, and growled an ungrateful response under his breath about women knowing their place and belonging in the kitchens baking pies instead of building torture machines. Fanny’s response was to tie the bandage tighter around his palm until Hemi flinched in pain. Her eyes twinkled in challenge.

Even though I would have loved to watch the rest of the interchange between them I needed to find out more information from her. “Fanny, do you remember who asked you to build the machine for you?”

Fanny turned to me and pondered my question for a moment. “No, I don’t. I’m sure I have his name written down with his order somewhere in my home. I can find it for you. It was commissioned almost two years ago and he wasn’t happy with the final product during its test run.”

“Did it work?” Hemi asked.

“Of course, it worked perfectly,” Fanny harrumphed haughtily. “It did everything it was supposed to. He kept finding fault with it and in the end refused to buy, quoting that he wouldn’t invest in a lightning catcher made by a woman until he had inspected the blueprints for mechanical faults. Needless to say, that night my blueprints disappeared and so did the man.” Fanny sighed in frustration. “He spoke with an accent and I’m sure any name he gave me was probably false. If he had plans to do something illegal with my invention, he probably covered his tracks. But either way I’m sure with some digging I can find his name. I can swing by your home as soon as I find it.”