The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom (8 page)

When the timer went off for the doctor’s appointment, Denise
was ready for a break. She stood and stretched. Maybe she could get a new chair
when she finished this job.

As Denise pulled out of the driveway, a faded brown sedan
drove up. Denise didn’t know the man sitting in the driver’s seat—short,
balding, with an accountant’s black-rimmed glasses. When he saw that she was
leaving, he drove away.

Maybe he was some kind of salesman.

He wasn’t looking for her or her family.

She was just being paranoid.

***

Doctor Jan turned out to be an older woman with close, sandy
curls, a big nose, man-sized hands, and skin roughened and red from being
outside. She also asked Denise more questions than Denise had expected about her
level of stress since moving, her diet, and what she did for exercise.

What surprised Denise the most was that Doctor Jan had the
equipment to diagnose her pacemaker remotely. She attached two cold diodes to
Denise’s chest. The wires ran to what looked like a bar-code scanner.

Doctor Jan frowned at the readings. She came closer and
stood beside Denise so she could also see the screen.

“You see this?” Dr. Jan said, stabbing a fat finger at a
display that looked like a gas gauge, with the needle in the center, half
empty. “That’s your battery. When did you have the last one replaced?”

“Two years ago,” Denise said, equally puzzled. The surgeon
had assured her that it would last for seven to ten years.

“And you haven’t been doing any kind of extraordinary
exercise or anything that would cause your heart to beat quite fast for a long
time?”

“What do you mean?” Denise asked, puzzled.

“Excessive exercising, like training for a marathon, running
for three to four hours a day or more, for months at a time.”

Denise shook her head. Even when she’d been with Chris and
scared, though it had seemed like a lifetime, it hadn’t been for more than a few
months.

Doctor Jan disconnected the machine, put it on a side table,
then turned back to Denise. “Now, I know you said everything’s fine. But I want
to give you a chance to think about it. Have you felt faint recently? World
grow dark around the edges?”

Denise suddenly remembered the time standing on the side of
the road, waiting for the twins’ bus. She slowly nodded. “Yes. A few days ago.”
She told the doctor about the incident.

“You said you have kids. They been worried?”

“Yes,” Denise sighed.

The doctor turned Denise’s face up and examined it closely. “You’re
naturally pale. I think, now, you’re unnaturally pale. You’re going to have to
replace that battery sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll schedule something before the end of the month,”
Denise promised.

“End of the week would be better,” Doctor Jan replied.

“I—I need to check with my kids,” Denise said,
faltering. “Is it really that bad?”

“If I could, I’d have you go in today,” Doctor Jan said. “Battery
could go out at any time. But you’d fight me on that. So, end of the week. You
feel weak or dizzy, you call 911. Immediately. Your kids know what to do?”

Denise gulped. “Yes.” As long as their cell phone reception
at the house didn’t die.

In a haze, Denise set up an appointment with the surgeon for
three days hence, on Friday. When Denise got back to the car, she already had a
list of clients in mind whom she would be billing. She needed that money. Now.

***

Adele could barely contain her fury when she heard about the
warriors’ failure. That damn interfering dwarf. And they knew about the Maker
before Adele had had a chance to find her and bring her to their side. Because
the Maker had defended her brother against the fairies, it was going to be even
harder to win her over. “Damn them all!”

“Please,” Cornelius said. “Lower your voice.”

Adele bit her lip and paused in the center of the room. It
was just the two of them in the outer chamber he’d hustled her into after the
warriors’ report. Both doors leading to the throne room stayed shut, even after
her outburst. Like most of the rooms in the palace, a strip of white wood
divided the walls. The top half was painted a pale ivory, with delicate gold
vines and ivy decorating it, while the bottom half was a deep blue. Adele knew
Imogene had chosen colors she thought calming. Adele found them suffocating.

Like most of the furniture in the palace, the long couch
between the two doors was backless, making it easier to sit on with wings. Red,
blue, gold, and cream strips ran from the arms and across the seat. When
Cornelius sat, he patted the place next to him. Adele stubbornly continued
standing.

“You need to turn this failure to an advantage,” Cornelius
told her seriously. “There are already murmurings in the court about your
qualifications as ruler.”

Adele scoffed. “And who would take my place? Those fops from
the southern kingdom? Gideon? You?”

Cornelius bowed his head slowly. “There’s been talk.”

Adele drew herself up. “Would you take my kingdom from me,
old friend?”

“Not willingly, no,” Cornelius said, shaking his head. “And
not while you continue to listen to reason,” he added pointedly.

“Fine,” Adele said, flouncing down on the seat next to him. “Give
me your counsel, O wise one.”

Cornelius chuckled. “Who says warriors never listen?” he
teased.

It was an old joke between them—warriors, like Adele,
only fought and never listened, whereas royals, like Cornelius, only talked and
never listened.

However, Adele wasn’t prepared to be amused that day. “How
do I kill
Kostya
?” she asked.

“Wrong focus,” Cornelius replied. “How do you capture the
heart of the human Tinker, as well as his sister, the Maker? They could be
strong allies. Though traditionally, fairy kingdoms don’t make alliances, you
should also be asking how the southern kingdom could be useful.”

Adele turned the questions over in her mind. Cornelius, as
always, used words like a weapon. Of course, he was right. She’d already
planned on securing the allegiance of the Maker. Also, capturing the Tinker
shouldn’t have been the duty of the warriors. The Tinker wasn’t a subject to be
ordered to attend the court, but a foreigner who should have been wooed by an
ambassador.

As for the fairies from the southern kingdom, their arrival
had been timed so poorly. Because of Thaddeus’ death and her own precarious
position, Adele hadn’t shown them all the courtesies she should.

“The kingdom must sparkle,” Adele said, testing out the
implications. Not only did the clockwork have to capture the Tinker’s imagination,
her entire underworld country must as well. She should also take the southerners
on a tour of the factory; she recalled their whispered comments about it.

“Exactly. And he must see you in your best light.”

Adele understood what Cornelius implying. She was proud of
her heritage as warrior caste. However, when she appeared in court, she usually
covered up, like a royal. Cornelius and the others preferred her that way. It
was one of the reasons why she pitied him when he took her hand and looked at
her with soft eyes. Thaddeus had loved her for who she was, not the mask she
wore for the court.

“If you ever need anything...” Cornelius started, then
faltered.

“I know who to come to, old friend,” Adele said. She patted
his hand, then let go. Thaddeus had taught her how to lie, as well. She stood,
restless again, but this time, with a plan. “I must go tend to my kingdom.”

“Very good, my Queen,” Cornelius said, also standing and
bowing his head.

Adele almost felt sorry for him as she swept from the room.
He didn’t understand what he could never have. She couldn’t dismiss him,
though, or even hold him at arm’s length. His insights were too valuable.

Turning a critical eye to the palace, Adele summoned
servants, directing them to banish the dirt from every corner. She added
glamours
to the empty hallways, sprouting fantastic
portraits and paintings along each wall. Vases of flowers bloomed in nooks and
on staircase landings.

The path from the northern gate to the palace received a
more austere touch—plain wood and brick instead of a dirt path and hedged
walls. The grand fountain at the foot of the stairs filled with bubbling clear
water, sweeping away the dirt and cobwebs. Adele then brightened the ceiling
with more color and lights.

The diner where Robert had arranged their first meeting
served breakfast starting at eight, Chris discovered. He decided to eat there
on the off chance Robert also stopped by, as he’d seemed very comfortable
there.

However, the pancakes had too much salt and lay in Chris’
stomach like bricks, mingling unpleasantly with the fatty bacon. The coffee was
more like black acid—Chris couldn’t pour in enough sugar to sweeten it.
The insolent college dropout behind the counter refused to meet Chris’ eye and
refill his cup.

Of course, Robert never showed his face. Weasel was too
smart for that. Chris sat in his booth, sweating against the plastic seat,
planning his next move.

Though the town had less than ten thousand people in it, it
was a resort town, a vacation spot for people from the nearby cities. Close to
one hundred motels dotted the beach and highways. Too many looked like dumps
for Chris to pinpoint Robert’s location. He’d tried to find a betting parlor,
sure that would be Robert’s second home, but his questions had been met with
blank stares or referrals to the local casino. Wherever Robert fed his habit
must be illegal, and Chris not only didn’t have those connections, he couldn’t
fake them. It wasn’t the world a gentleman traveled in.

A collection of rowdy kids spilled into the diner,
disturbing Chris’ thoughts. They talked excitedly about their summer plans now
that they were finally out of school.

It slowly dawned on Chris that they were so excited because
they’d gained their freedom just that day.

Robert had lied. The last day of school was that day, not
the day before.

Chris threw a twenty on the table and ran out the door,
ignoring the worker who called out about his bill. There was only one high
school in town. These kids had cut their last class of the day. Chris had a
chance to see Dale. If nothing else, he could follow his son’s bus, find out
where Dale lived. So much for Robert.

In the car, Chris took a minute to get the directions to the
school on his phone. Unfortunately, they turned out to be wrong. When Chris
turned onto the highway, he realized his mistake. The school had to be behind
him. He cursed when he realized he’d followed the directions to the vocational
school, not the high school.

Chris checked the clock. Ten minutes. He could make it. He
made a hard U-turn, the drivers behind him honking. Chris didn’t care. He was
going to save his son.

After Chris turned off the main highway, at the first stop
sign, a car pulled in front of him, then crept along. Chris fumed. He didn’t
see anyway around it. A gentleman always tried to be polite. The closer he
drove to the other car, the slower it went.

Eventually Chris recognized the faded foreign car in front
of him.

Robert.

Disgusted, Chris roared around him. He’d get Robert later.

However, the funny little man had done his job. The last of
the school buses pulled away just as Chris drove up. Cursing, he pulled onto a
side street and parked.

Chris had to deal with Robert now. A gentleman didn’t let
insults like that pass. He’d interfered with Chris’ family. Chris would have
his revenge.

***

Dale had every intention of meeting Queen Adele. The chance
to work on fairy clockwork was too tempting. He wasn’t about to tell his sister
that, though. Instead, Dale pretended to pay attention to the stuff on his
desk, turning his head away from Nora so she wouldn’t see his smile. The scarf
around his neck itched, but Dale didn’t dare take it off; his mom might knock
on the door at any time to make sure they hadn’t killed each other or
something.

The next morning, Dale thought about dropping the act.
However, before he’d even gotten out of bed, Nora had come barging into his
room, saying, “You have to go talk with Queen Adele. You just have to help
Kostya
!”

Dale turned over and hid his face with a pillow. “I wish he’d
killed you in your sleep.” Then he yelped when Nora pulled the covers from his
bed. He sat up and threw his pillow at her, hitting her soundly in the face. “Now
get out.”

“But—”

“Out. Now.”

Nora left, closing the door, and Dale fell back onto his bed
with a sigh. He glanced at the clock on his dresser. He really did have to get
up or Mom would throw a fit. He hoped this Queen Adele would understand he
needed sleep and not try to see him early in the morning. That was the best
thing about summer break as far as Dale was concerned: he’d get to sleep in
every day.

After Dale got dressed, Nora barged into his room again,
making the same demands. He ignored her, refusing to answer any of her
questions. He knew better than to give in. Nora was obsessed at this point.
Even if he said he’d meet the queen, it wouldn’t shut his sister up. She’d then
start in on endless possibilities of what the queen looked like, how she was
different from the warriors, the different kinds of machinery in the kingdom
they might want him to look at.

On the bus ride to school, Nora sat beside him, whispering
her arguments. Dale kept his lips pressed tightly together and his arms folded
across his chest, refusing to even look at Nora.

Nora also wanted to talk about magic and whether she should
pursue it or not as well. Dale knew she would. She was too tempted not to. She
just wanted to talk it to death before she admitted it, as always. He’d already
stopped listening.

Fortunately, Nora wasn’t in any of Dale’s classes and he
avoided any of the spots in school where she might be lurking. The excitement
of the last day of school mingled with the anticipation of meeting the Queen of
the fairies—not that Dale would tell Nora that. His stomach had
butterflies and Rich teased him about his constant smile, wanting to know if he’d
found a girl to give a special goodbye to.

On the bus ride home, Nora sat with two other girls,
pointedly ignoring Dale. She got off at their stop before he did, and didn’t
wait for him. By the time Dale reached the entrance of the trail leading to the
abandoned cottage, Nora was nowhere to be seen.

Dale paused for a moment, remembering how scared he’d been
running away from the fairies. He couldn’t bring himself to walk back up that
trail, no matter what type of clockwork lay at the other end.

When Dale turned back to the road, a tiny woman stood there,
maybe coming up to his stomach. She wore an old-fashioned black dress with a
high collar and long sleeves. The skirt flowed down over the tops of her
pointed boots. A jaunty hat perched on her head with a light, half-veil of
black lace draped over her eyes.

Though Dale had thought he’d been ready, the beauty and
grace of the queen of the fairies took his breath away. He felt grubby in his
sandals, shorts, and T-shirt. He found himself automatically bowing his head to
her. “My Lady,” he said.

The queen smiled at Dale. Her teeth didn’t have the jagged
points of the warriors. “Master Tinker,” she said. Her tone reminded Dale of
the tiny silver wind chimes his mom had in her office.

“No,” Dale said, shaking his head. “Just a tinker. My name
is Dale.”

“Dale,” the queen purred. “Thank you for the gift of your
name. You may call me Queen Adele.” She drew herself up straighter, gaining
maybe a quarter inch of height. Then she unfolded her wings.

Dale’s heart stuttered at the marvelous display of
craftsmanship and magic. Brass gears, highlighted with blue phosphorus fairy
magic, turned as her wings spread. One hitched briefly—possibly a tooth
that needed smoothing. The ends were beautifully scalloped, like Nora’s knitted
lace. Some of the framing parts were metal as well, gleaming in the sunlight.

“Yes,” Queen Adele told Dale when he looked back at her. “We
need your help.”

Even if Dale had wanted to, he’d never have been able to say
no to her, his queen.

***

Nora couldn’t believe how pigheaded Dale was being. As Mom
said, he’d cut off his own nose to spite his face. Nora stomped all the way
home from the bus stop without him, walking particularly fast past the trail to
the abandoned house. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened to
Dale if
Kostya
hadn’t found her.

Fairies made Nora queasy, even though she wanted Dale to
help
Kostya
. They represented magic, which frightened
her. Nora felt she stood on the border looking into a new world, and couldn’t
make herself cross over.

Mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Nora didn’t remember the
doctor’s appointment until she looked at the kitchen board. Mom would be fine,
Nora told herself. Dale was just a worrier.

After marking herself home from school on the board, Nora
went directly to her room. She knocked on the door and called out, “
Kostya
? It’s me. Nora.” She slowly opened the door.

The dwarf rose from his hiding place in the corner. “Welcome,”
he said, as if she’d walked into his home, not hers.

“How was your morning?” Nora asked, trying to be polite.

“Peaceful,”
Kostya
said with a
smile. “The quiet here is nice.”

“Don’t expect it to continue,” Nora said sourly. “As soon as
Dale gets home, he’ll probably blast that stuff he calls music since Mom’s not
here.”

Kostya
shrugged.

The silence built uncomfortably around them. “Are you
hungry?” Nora finally asked.

“No, I ate when your mother left.”

“I’m going to grab something, okay?”

“Please,”
Kostya
said, nodding and
gesturing toward the door.

Again, Nora shoved down on her frustration. This was her
home. She shouldn’t feel as though she had to ask his permission.

Without another word, Nora returned to the kitchen to forage
for her lunch. Only when she’d put her sandwich on a plate and added chips did
she realize that Dale still wasn’t home. She looked for him out the kitchen
window. He wasn’t on the road.

Excited, Nora returned to her room. “Dale didn’t follow me
home from the bus stop. Do you think Queen Adele found him?”

“Yes,”
Kostya
said gravely. “She
wouldn’t wait.”

Nora sat down on the floor with her sandwich. “Huh,” she
said. She ate quietly, thinking. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Dale had
just met his destiny, and that it was separate from hers.

“Are you ready?”
Kostya
asked when
Nora returned after putting her dishes away and marking Dale out on the board.

“For what?” Nora asked. She didn’t want to be suspicious,
but she couldn’t help herself. Maybe Dale was right to not trust the dwarf.
Something about him unsettled Nora the longer they were together.

“For your next lesson in magic.”

Nora sighed. “It scares me,” she admitted.

“What scares you? Exactly?”

“The power,” Nora guessed.

Kostya
thought for a moment, then
shook his head. “No. Power you understand. You create and destroy. It’s the
change that bothers you. The transformation. One world to another.”

“It’s too big,” Nora said. She knew her world, where the
borders fell. Magic moved those edges. She didn’t like how open-ended
everything was, or how alone it made her feel. Would she be able to have a
family if she pursued magic? What friends could she have if she became a Maker?
Who could she talk with, besides the dwarf and her brother? Magic would take
over her life, she knew it; she could taste its hunger. She could find groups
of other people to knit with. Where would she find a group to weave ropes
together out of grass and set on fire?

“What do you want to learn first?”
Kostya
asked. “To help make it seem smaller?”

“To see the edges clearly,” Nora said suddenly. “You said
the fairies were good at illusions, and that you were good at seeing through
them. Teach me to do that. I want to see what’s real.”

Kostya
clucked his tongue. “Strong
magic,” he said.

Disappointment coursed through Nora. “Stronger than the
ropes?”

“Yes,”
Kostya
said, nodding
solemnly. “That was making your own illusion. This is seeing through another’s.
We must start small,”
Kostya
warned.

“As long as we start,” Nora said.

The dwarf thought for a moment. “Yes. We can do this.”

“Good,” Nora said, crushing her doubt.
Kostya
wasn’t hiding anything from her. The magic probably was difficult. “Then let’s
start.”

***

Denise pulled into the driveway of the house, still
furiously thinking. First, she’d have to print out a complete client list. She’d
always resisted adding late fees when a client didn’t pay on time. Right now,
she was willing to charge an extra one percent per day on every account over
thirty days late.

When Denise got out of the car and closed the door, the man
she’d seen earlier walked up the driveway. He was short, maybe just an inch
taller than her, with black accountant glasses.

“Denise. Denise Murray,” he called, before she could turn
away.

Denise froze in her tracks. How did he know her married
name? She turned, almost against her will.

“How much would you pay to keep your family safe?” the man
asked.

“Excuse me? Are you threatening me?” Denise asked, outraged.

The man sighed and shrank in on himself. “No, no. I don’t
want to threaten you. It’s just—your husband paid me to find you.”

“My ex-husband,” Denise corrected him automatically.

“No.” The man regained some of his stature. “You never filed
for divorce. Or a restraining order,” he accused her.

Denise had all the papers in the top drawer of her desk. She’d
justified not filing them because she didn’t want Chris to know where she was.
Now, it might be too late.

“Your husband, well, he isn’t the best man.”