Tinker's War (The Tinkerer's Daughter Book 2) (14 page)

I stared at him. “What do you mean? What are you saying?”

“You don’t belong with these people, Breeze, come with me. We’ll return to the queen and tell her all that we have learned, and then…”

“And then what?”

“And then she will accept you, and we can be together.”

Shock swept across my entire being. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, or that he would dare to say it. “Together?” I said in a whisper. I glanced down and realized he was still holding my hand.

“As we belong,” he said firmly.

My perspective on the entire situation came sharply into focus. When I had joked with Robie over his jealousy of Tam, I hadn’t imagined that he was right. It had never even occurred to me that Tam might have had real feelings for me. How could he? We’d hardly known each other for more than a few days. And yet, Tam had known who I was before that, hadn’t he? Grudgingly, I had to admit to myself that I held a certain sort of celebrity status among the Tal’mar, especially the younger ones. Tam may have been watching me for a long time before that night, waiting for an opportunity to approach me.

I pulled my hand away, confused by this sudden turn of events. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on what was important. I took a deep breath. “I have to find Robie,” I said at last. “I have to make sure… I have to know.”

Tam sighed. “Fine. I will go with you. We will find your friend, and then we will leave this place and forget it.”

I didn’t bother trying to explain to him that what he said would never be possible. I’d sooner forget to breathe than forget Tinker or Analyn.
And what about Robie?
said a small voice in the back of my head.
Could you leave him?

I brushed it off and leapt forward. The branches rushed up to catch my feet, hurtling me forward as I raced down the mountainside, leaping from tree to tree as quiet as a falling leaf. I pushed aside my thoughts about what Tam had said, and focused on the path ahead. Robie was out there somewhere, and he was in danger. I couldn’t help but think it was my fault, because if I had let him come with us in the first place this might never have happened. Or, if he hadn’t fallen in love with me.

How had things suddenly become so complicated?

Chapter 13

I was glad that Tam had come with me because he possessed tracking skills like no human could dream. Even from the treetops and in the darkness, he was able to track Robie’s horse down the mountainside. It was even easier for him when we reached the plains. Robie had ridden directly west, straight for Anora, probably hoping to catch up with us before we got there. Unfortunately, he had come across one of the Vangar patrols that we had managed to evade.

“Here, they attacked him,” Tam said, following the maze of hoof prints in the dirt. “Robie turned north-”

Tam broke into a run, and I followed as fast as my legs could carry me. We covered three miles before he stopped and knelt down to the ground. “Here,” he said, touching the soil. “Blood. Your friend injured one of the Vangars, but they overpowered him and drove him to the ground.”

Tam rose up, scanning the hills nearby. “The horse headed back into the mountains, riderless. They bound your friend and carried him to the northwest.”

We raced up the hill and knelt down at the crest, making ourselves invisible in case the Vangars were still nearby. Tam pointed to the north and I saw a dark cloud billowing up against the horizon. I squinted, eying the black dragon ship crawling across the countryside.

“They took him there,” Tam said. “He is their captive.”

I stared at the scene, fists clenched, hardly believing the thought that went racing through my head. “I have to save him,” I said. “At least I must try.”

Tam sighed, shaking his head. “Breeze, this is folly. Look upon your enemy and know them for what they are. Do you think that we will overpower a horde of Vangar warriors with a cutlass and a bow?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I won’t know what I think until I have a closer look. I’ll go without you if I have to.”

Tam clenched his teeth and drew in a deep, angry breath. “Are all humans as stubborn as you?”

“You had better hope so, if you want to win this war.”

We closed the miles quickly, and within the hour found ourselves lying across a nearby hilltop, gazing down at the Vangars’ dragon ship. A handful of the flying machines buzzed back and forth across the sky, probably scouting for farms or escaped refugees that the ship had missed on the way north. Tam and I counted five gyroplanes in all. After scouting around the area briefly, we located fifty horsemen in the surrounding countryside that were separated into small groups. We couldn’t guess how many more might be in the ship, but several hundred seemed likely. Compared to the two of us, it might as well have been an entire army.

“Do you understand now?” Tam said, his voice heavy with impatience. “All the free men of Astatia combined couldn’t take that ship.”

“We don’t need to take it,” I said thoughtfully.

“Is that so? Perhaps you will free your friend by sprouting wings and plucking him up into the air?”

I glanced at one of the gyros passing overhead. “That’s not a terrible idea,” I mused.

Tam snorted. “Yes it is. Forget I said it.”

I stared at him, a sly smile lifting the corners of my mouth. “I have an idea.”

He put his face in his hands and groaned quietly. “Dare I ask?”

I nodded towards the dragon ship. “What do you think is their ship’s greatest weakness?”

He frowned. “It’s massive. The ship is well-armed and guarded. The engine might be a weakness if it broke down, but that’s hardly likely.”

“You’re close,” I said. “But the engine isn’t the greatest weakness. It’s the wheels. If we disable one of those wheels, that ship will be stuck for hours. Maybe even days.”

“And then what?” Tam said. “Presuming we had some magical way of damaging a wheel, what would we do then? We still can’t overwhelm the guards and free the captives.”

“No, but maybe we can grow wings and pluck them up into the air,” I said, grinning.

The first part of my plan involved stopping the dragon ship. That was the easy part. Tam and I ran ahead of the caravan and found a good place to hide, directly in the path of the slow-moving vessel. We wedged our bodies down under the ledge of a good-sized boulder and then covered ourselves with grass.

As we lay there in the darkness with the Vangar dragon ship creeping slowly over the hills toward us, I couldn’t help but notice how close our bodies were. Tam’s breath was heavy on the back of my neck, and when he bent forward to whisper in my ear, it sent chills crawling up and down my spine.

“Come back to Tal’mar with me,” he said in a whisper. “Be with me.”  

“There is no Tal’mar,” I said in a monotone, steeling myself against his advances. “Keep your head clear.”

He sighed and rolled away from me, turning his face toward the stars. “I don’t even know why I’m here,” he murmured. “I’ve already risked my neck once, saving that fool.”

I considered telling him he was welcome to leave, but I thought better of it. The truth was that I was glad Tam was there. I was going to need his help. Of course, I didn’t want to tell him that. The last thing I wanted was him thinking that I was somehow indebted.

A group of Vangar horsemen trotted by a few minutes later, checking the ship’s path for hazards. They rode by without a second glance. The next few minutes passed quickly and then the shadow of the ship rolled over us, blotting out the heavens. We crawled out from our hiding place and stood there in the darkness for a moment, getting our bearings. The dragon ship loomed over us like a giant roof, almost as if we had stepped into some sort of a building. Only, I’d never been in any structure half that size. It even dwarfed the king’s hangar at Avenston. Until the Vangars destroyed the hangar, that is.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw the bottom of the hull jutting downward out of the darkness, and the thin line of the axle cutting through the beams. I raced to the back of the ship, trying to calculate the height of the axles as I ran. To my dismay, the axle rested too high off the ground for me to reach it. There was no way to get on that axle and reach the wheel hub without a ladder.

I paused for a moment, making a few quick mental calculations, and then ran for the wheel. “What are you doing?” Tam hissed behind me.

I ignored him. I ran up to the wheel and leapt on, grabbing one of the massive spokes. I was instantly swept off the ground. As I flew upward, I lifted my gaze to stare at the hub of the wheel, searching for a weakness. The Vangars’ workmanship was unfamiliar to me, and yet the design was elegantly simple. The axle was comprised of a solid steel beam attached to a rotating hub. Giant bolts as thick as my arm held the wheel fastened to the hub so that it could turn while the axle remained static. But how was the hub connected? I needed a closer look.

I slid along the spokes towards the center of the wheel and noticed the sensation that I was rising faster. I heard a noise and glanced down to see Tam flying up the spokes beneath me. As we rose towards the apex, I leapt to the side, landing on a small catwalk along the exterior of the ship’s hull. Tam landed silently next to me. We both knelt there in the darkness, waiting to see if we had been observed.

“What do we do now?” Tam whispered in my ear. I craned my neck, staring down through the spokes at the spinning hub. I watched it go around once, twice, three times… and then I saw what I was looking for.

“There!” I said. “The linchpin!”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

I turned, lowering myself off the edge of the catwalk, and then dropped to the axle below. Even for me it was an easy landing. The axle was as broad as an old oak tree. I crept forward until I was close enough that I could reach through the spokes and grab the pin. I waited a moment, timing the movement of the spokes, and then thrust my arm through. I grasped the heavy iron ring attached to the linchpin and yanked on it. The linchpin didn’t move. Quickly, I yanked my arm back before the spokes tore it off.

Tam appeared behind me. “What do we do?”

“The linchpin won’t come free. We need to pull that metal ring to get the pin out.”

I waited a moment, gathering my strength. I watched the spokes passing, the hub slowly rotating against the wheel. A few seconds later, when the opportunity presented itself, I reached through and grasped the iron ring with both hands. I pulled with all my strength. I threw myself back as I pulled, hoping to use the inertia to help break the pin free, but even that didn’t work. The pin didn’t move an inch. The jarring resistance I felt nearly separated my shoulder from the socket. I was still recovering as the next spoke came around and smacked my arm, brushing me aside like an inconsequential blade of grass.

Desperately I pulled my arm free, twisting to the side as I danced back. My balance was gone and I felt myself slipping off the side of the axle. I reached for something, anything to stabilize myself. I found Tam. He caught my arms, pulling me into him, and then threw his arms around me. Before I realized what was happening, he bent forward and kissed me on the lips.

I pushed him away, my eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing!” My voice raised to a dangerous level and I glanced around, worried that the Vangars might have heard me. Fortunately, the noise of the ship’s movement seemed to have covered the sound.

Tam licked his lips and smiled, and I wasn’t sure if I should slap him or let him kiss me again. Instead, he stepped around me and knelt down in front of the wheel. “Let me give it a try,” he whispered.

He waited for the right moment and then reached through. He grabbed the ring and stood up, yanking on it as he rose, just as I had. I half-expected the pin to come flying out just to make me feel weak and inferior. When it didn’t, I almost laughed.

Tam grunted as he heaved against the ring with all his might. He jerked himself free just as the next spoke came around, narrowly avoiding the same thing that had happened to me. He stood back, rubbing the cramps in his hands. I cocked an eyebrow and stared at him, grinning.

He frowned. “That’s not going to work.”

“Are you sure?” I said in a cynical tone. “Maybe you should try again.”

“Very funny,” he said, glaring at me. “Do you have any more brilliant ideas?”

I stared at the hub, the spokes flashing through my vision. Obviously, what we were trying wasn’t going to work. The entire weight of the dragon ship was pressing down on the axle, and the pressure on the hub was far too great. If the ship had still been attached to a balloon, the pin would have come out easily. As it was, with a hammer I might have been able to knock it out, but I didn’t have anything like that. I considered using the pommel of my sword as a hammer and immediately dismissed the idea. Even if it worked, the noise would immediately give us away to the Vangars. My plan wouldn’t work if they knew we were there. What else could I use? I needed a tool of some sort, but what?

I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got it! Give me your belt.”

Tam cocked an eyebrow. “My belt?” he said suspiciously.

“Don’t argue, just give it to me.”

He sighed. He unbuckled his belt and handed it to me, holding his sheathed sword in his hands. I did the same, and handed my cutlass to him. Then I locked the two belts together. I knelt down in front of the hub, waiting for the right moment, and reached through. I looped the belt through the iron ring and then pulled my hands free just in time to avoid the next spoke. The hub rotated slowly. As it came back within reach, I shoved my arms through and caught the long end of the belt. I reached up to the edge of the catwalk and looped the belt around the metal frame, quickly tying it into a slipknot, so that the belt was secured at either end with the length of it passing through the spokes.

I glanced at the hub to make sure the belt was secured, and then waited breathlessly. With any luck, the spoke would increase tension on the belt until it pulled the linchpin free. The question was whether the belt would break before that happened. As the spokes came around and the belt tightened, I stepped back, giving myself room in case the thing snapped. The stiff leather went taught, and overhead the catwalk groaned. I saw the linchpin move slightly. It wasn’t enough. The spoke creaked as it fought to keep turning.