Coldmaker(84)

The blades came to life in a sudden jolt. The Glider itself vibrated, trying to buck away from the vices anchoring its hull to the ground, but the bearings of the fan were smooth, and in less than an instant, the metal was turning at a miraculous speed, hurling wind all the way across the tinkershop. Machines rattled and cabinets shook, and the line of candles behind the invention were blown out row by row in a furious current of wind. Shilah and I backed away in surprise. The candles were blown out all the way across the tinkershop, except for the last three rows, which flickered gently. Leroi let the blades spin aimlessly for a few seconds, and then pulled the copper wire out of the pot, at which point the Glider slowed down and eventually came to a standstill.

Leroi stripped off his gloves, slapping them on the base of the Glider. Kneeling, he moved his hand down to the base, which was made from some shiny green material.

‘I lined the bottom with an alloy I call Slither-metal,’ Leroi said, swiping his finger along the green and producing a slick squeal. ‘No friction whatsoever. The idea is to have the blades propel the Glider across the sands. No roads, no bridges. If it worked, you could explore the whole World Cried, maybe find things out in the deep dunes that we didn’t know about. Maybe secret Patches long forgotten. I’ve tried the Glider outside behind the manor, but there’s still not enough charge to move it properly. I’m close, but I need more if it’s to ride all the way across the dunes. I figured we might experiment with different potions to mix in to try and solve it.’ He stood back up. In the half-light, I saw how sunken his face had become again, almost deflated. ‘Enough charge, and we might build a different version that could push into the sky.’

‘What if we ruin the charge completely?’ I asked, looking at the final rows of candles, their flames tauntingly still quivering. ‘All that Cold will go to waste.’

‘Perhaps,’ Leroi said. ‘But freedom is not without its cost.’

Shilah broke free from my side, touching the cage that circled around the Glider’s blades. ‘We should try and get a Frost. Maybe that would—’

Leroi cut her off, his knees going visibly weak. ‘Never that. Please never mention that again. Anything else. I’m sorry, but no. Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry.’

Shilah and I exchanged a glance. We’d spent long hours at night discussing what secrets Leroi might be keeping. But before we could even change the subject, a furious knocking came from the main door, rattling the chain.

The pounding was frantic, wild even. It was most certainly not Cam.

Leroi’s eyes widened and he snapped his fingers, pointing at the grate. We’d practised this yesterday, and Shilah and I silently flew to our hiding space, lifting the metal and tucking ourselves in. The space was big enough for two, but only just. My chest began beating harder than from just fear as Shilah pressed next to me.

Leroi gently closed the grate and pushed a table over it. The knocking grew even louder, as though the door was being pounded by half a dozen hands.

I pressed my face as high as it would go against the grate so I could see, Shilah doing the same. I could smell the Khatmint Leroi had given us that morning on her breath.

Leroi’s bare feet slapped up to the landing and I heard the scrape of the chain being removed. A flurry of apologetic voices cascaded around the tinkershop, too muddled to make out. Leroi’s voice broke over the din. ‘Where were the taskmasters?’ The Tinkerer sounded frantic, his voice almost unrecognizable. ‘Why didn’t he get it turned? Speak!’

‘A thousand apologies, Master Leroi!’ another said. ‘Samsiah was on an errand and didn’t make it back. The taskmasters commanded us to—’

‘The Manor Healer couldn’t—’

‘—the anklet took it clean off—’

‘—found him calling out from the sands.’

‘Please help him, sir. He’s a good slave, and he only—’

‘Take him downstairs!’ Leroi broke through. ‘Hurry! Now. Find a clean table.’

The voices did as he commanded. Shilah and I exchanged a worried glance. As they approached, we could see feet through the cracks in the grate, and some blood dripping, leaving a thick trail on the floor.

There was a crash of glass smashing as Leroi brushed everything off the worktop. As the feet drew nearer the grate, we could see how dirty they were. They all had thick metal cuffs around their ankles, with a large bubble shape on the sides. Shilah’s expression was impassive, but she grabbed my arm, digging in tight. Her other hand went to her braid, although I didn’t think she kept a blade in there any more.

‘How long?’ Leroi asked. ‘Speak, please. Don’t be afraid.’

‘Less than a bell,’ a voice squeaked in reply. ‘Please, can you help him, Master Leroi?’

‘Just Leroi,’ the Tinkerer said. I heard him rifling through the shelves, his voice small. ‘No master.’

‘The bleeding’s not stopping. We tried to stitch it—’

‘Pinion’s acid will eat through stitches,’ Leroi muttered in reply, seemingly mostly to himself. ‘It won’t work.’

Leroi had never mentioned Pinion’s acid in our lessons. I looked at Shilah, but her eyes were stony and remained focused on the grate.

‘What can we do to help, sir?’ one of the voices asked.