The Unseen Tempest E-Book

John Goode

• Herausgeber: Harmony Ink Press
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 395

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Sequel to Eye of the Storm Lords of Arcadia: Act Three Kane used to be a normal boy with normal worries. Now he fights alongside his boyfriend, Hawk, and an unlikely group of allies as they attempt to reclaim Hawk's throne and save the Nine Realms. With time running out, Hawk decides to raise an army against the evil shapeshifter, Puck, and his army of The Dark. The adventurers split up in search of a force that will join their cause and help restore order to the Nine Realms. New allies aren't as easy to find as they hoped. Kane, Hawk, and their friends face unforeseen danger as centuries-old grudges threaten their quest. Nothing is what they thought it was, and Kane and Hawk must find the truth in time to defend against Puck's encroaching army. But the truth about who their true foe is will change everything.

Leseprobe

Readers Love

Lords of Arcadia

Distant Rumblings

“Mr. Goode does what he does so well. He starts us on a journey with wonderful characters, entertains us with their humor and goodness, then blinds us with the sheer realness of their hearts and souls.”

—A Bear on Books

“The characters touch your heart with a bit of magic and give you insight into what it is like to be a teenager in a small town feeling completely different.”

—YAM Magazine

"John Goode has woven an irresistible tale of magic and mayhem and music that has charms to soothe the savage breast—or, rather, to ensorcell the unsuspecting faerie.”

—The Novel Approach

Eye of the Storm

“Goode’s mastery of the written word is in full force here; his power to turn simple phrases into descriptive goldmines is unprecedented.”

—Joyfully Jay

“It is a love story that triumphs in the face of the improbable and discounts the probability of the impossible...”

—The Novel Approach

“It’s in the sequel, however, that Goode really allows his creativity to roam free. Here he combines traditional folklore and fairy tales with creatures and lands of his own invention, ending up with something that is wholly original.”

—Rainbow Book Reviews

By JOHN GOODE

TALESFROM FOSTER HIGH SERIES

Tales from Foster High

To Wish for Impossible Things

End of the Innocence

Dear God

151 Days

LORDSOF ARCADIA SERIES

Distant Rumblings

Eye of the Storm

The Unseen Tempest (with J.G. Morgan)

Published by HARMONY INK PRESS

http://www.harmonyinkpress.com

Copyright

Published by

HARMONY INK PRESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

[email protected] •http://harmonyinkpress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Unseen Tempest

© 2014 John Goode & J.G. Morgan.

Cover Art

© 2014 Paul Richmond.

www.paulrichmondstudio.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or [email protected].

ISBN: 978-1-63216-189-5

Library Edition ISBN: 978-1-63216-190-1

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63216-191-8

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014940255

First Edition July 2014

Library Edition October 2014

Printed in the United States of America

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

THISBOOK is dedicated to Andy, who taught me how to play D&D. He showed me how to make worlds that never existed seem real, a gift I can never repay.

It is also for Jeff, Michael, Heather, Matt, Wayne, Chris, Tom, Mike, Jim, Gina, Woogie, and everyone else who helped me define the boundaries of the Nine Realms. They are the true adventurers in this story.

Prologue

“Nearly every culture in the Nine Realms

has some form of tradition concerning

their dead. Even the ones known for their

immortality have some ritual for burying

a companion that has passed.”

Encyclopedia Arcadia

Three Weeks Ago

VERYFEWplaces in the Nine Realms can be described as pristine or untouched.

In the span of all known time, nearly every place in existence has been observed and changed by some outside agency. It is in the living’s nature to change what they find into something else; consider it part of our celestial DNA. We are always changing what we find into what we want.

But there are places that are considered sacrosanct to anyone who lays eyes on them. These locations are rare, and all have considerable history behind them. The number of sites varies from realm to realm, but every realm has at least one.

In the Realm of the Earth it is called Kh’zdule’s Crown, and it’s the highest point in Djupur Byrjun.

Located in the mountains of Pordan, the highest peak is called Gott’s Ascent, and it is considered a holy place by the realm’s dwarven population. The rumor is that this very spot was where Gott, the dwarven god, had crafted and thrown the world in its entirety before firing it in his massive kiln. Most importantly, the peak was the last place Gott had set foot on before ascending to a higher plane.

Kane and his companions were the first beings other than dwarves to visit the spot. They were also the first visitors, dwarf or nondwarf, to bring a dead body with them.

The wind and snow made visibility all but impossible, but if one could see through the cacophony of weather, they would see Ferra phase through the stone peak, followed by Ruber. Neither one spoke as they quickly got to work. Ruber pushed his field outward, until it encompassed a diameter no greater than thirty feet.

One second the peak was buffeted by blinding gales of subzero winds and snow; the next the air was clear and as still as a church.

Ferra nodded at him. She closed her eyes and concentrated, sending warmth against the cold, rapidly heating the small space Ruber had carved. Seconds later, Adamas and the rest of the party stepped through the stone as well. The group of beings assembled inside Ruber’s sphere was the largest ever to stand where Gott had walked. The gem king had moved them five and a half miles straight up through the mountain, saving them a climb that would have normally taken months. Ferra extended her aura of warmth to its limits, while Ruber kept the usual environment at bay, making the area barely survivable. The wind screamed at them from the other side of the barrier, but inside it was quiet.

Too quiet.

“Dammit!” Kane exclaimed as soon as they passed through the stone and became tangible again. He hugged himself and began to shiver as his body tried to process the sudden plunge in temperature. “I-I thought you were g-gonna make it warm!”

Ferra didn’t spare the human a look as she kept her eyes closed and did her best to strengthen her warmth. “This is as warm as I can make it.” Her light blue skin had begun to reform itself over the living ice that made up her body, making her look like she had been recently torn apart by wild animals. Over the past few days it had been an unappealing sight for the young human, but he was happy to see his friend getting better.

“Here,” Hawk said, slipping one arm out of his jacket and extending it over Kane’s shoulder. Almost instantly the coldness vanished.

Before Kane could ask how that was possible, memories provided the answer. The memories were Hawk’s, but he realized they had come to him exactly as his own memories would have. The jacket was enchanted to be protection against all environments, warm in the cold, cool in blazing heat. It had been a gift to Hawk on his fourteenth birthday from Oberon. Even as a teenager, Hawk had known the jacket had been commissioned by his mother, since Oberon had never expressed any compassion toward his son.

Kane mentally pulled away from his boyfriend’s mind as the overwhelming rush of information became too personal for him. Learning the processes and boundaries of mental bonding was an ongoing task for both of them. Neither was sure how far was too far, or if there was a “too far” at all.

Hawk looked over at him and smiled in understanding.

“Will this suffice?” Ruber asked once it was obvious they had all arrived safely.

A shrug was all the answer Ater gave as he put the body of his lover down on the frozen ground. It was bundled completely in basilisk leather, inscribed with sigils of power that prevented the contents from decomposing any more than they had, a gift from the Crystal Court. Adamas had offered to bury Pullus in the royal crypt, an honor that had never been offered to any nongemling in history, but Ater had politely refused.

Actually, he had apathetically refused, but no one had commented on it at the time.

Dark elf tradition stated that their dead were to be taken to the highest point possible, where their bodies would be burned and their ashes allowed to drift across the clouds and either ascend to Koran, the elven god, or fall back to the realms and be reborn as something new. Normally, Ater would have brought his partner back to Faerth and the elven lands to do this, but Puck had made that impossible.

“Should someone say something?” Molly asked, her brass body completely unfazed by the change in temperature. “I am unaware of the customs of elven burial.”

Ater, who had not once taken his eyes off the body since he had picked it up, said nothing in response.

Adamas waited a few seconds before speaking in a voice that was deep and laced with authority. “The dark elf Pullus was a brave soul—”

“He was a fool!” Ater proclaimed, uttering the first words in weeks. “He was a damned fool.” He slowly stood up and took a half step away from the body. “And it’s my fault he is dead.” Turning his head to Ruber, he said, “Do it.”

A glow began to emanate from the ruby, and Ferra opened her eyes.

“No!” she protested. The temperature in the area dipped a few degrees before she could focus her energies again. “He cannot be sent to Logos without a prayer.”

Ater didn’t as much blink as he replied, “I don’t even know who the hell Logos is; neither did Pullus. Why would Pullus be heading to him or her?”

“Someone’s etiquette spring needs winding,” Molly muttered quietly.

“Please,” Ferra implored the elf. “Let me say a small prayer.”

Ater stared at the barbarian for almost a minute, his eyes lightless, his gaze unfocused. Finally he shrugged again and said, “It doesn’t matter what you do. He’s dead.” He said “dead” as if the word burned him, and a faint shudder moved through his frame. He stepped as far away from the corpse as he could while still remaining under the cover of magic.

Ferra took a step forward and took a deep breath.

“Oh Logos most merciful, Lord of the Realms, we ask that you receive this child into your arms, that he might pass in safety through this crisis. As thou hast told us with infinite compassion, ‘Let not your hearts be troubled. In my Father’s house are many rooms.’ I ask you to prepare a place for him. And though his life mate may not yet be with him, please ensure he is never alone and that when it is his Other self’s turn, he may find him again. Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil, for you are with us; your hand and your life, they comfort us. Amen.”

Tears stung Kane’s and Hawk’s eyes as the meaning of the words touched their hearts. Molly dabbed her eyes out of courtesy for the occasion, even though she could not cry. If the gems felt anything, they didn’t express it outwardly. Ater kept his face averted from the rest of them.

Ferra looked at Ruber and nodded silently.

A beam of red flared from Ruber, followed by one of pure white energy from Adamas. The body burst into flames instantly, and before three minutes had passed, only a heap of ashes remained. Ater’s shoulders shuddered just once, all the reaction he would let any of them see. Ruber opened two small holes in his field for half a second, allowing the ashes to be taken by the winds and thrown out beyond the peak.

Silently, they watched them scatter.

Chapter 1

“The Realm of Aponiviso is widely considered

by visitors to be the most chaotic in

existence. To the native inhabitants,

Aponiviso makes perfect sense.

Our world is dying, and there is nothing

anyone can do to stop it.”

Milo Farnsworth

Royal page and messenger for the Family Crimson

I HAD no idea where we had ended up.

Normally my being lost wouldn’t mean much. Before this whole dating-a-prince-from-another-world thing, the farthest I had traveled was to Saylorville Lake, which lies on the very outskirts of Athens, to go to Danny Elman’s birthday party when I was eight. So there aren’t many places I’d seen in my own world. Now I was aware of the existence of eight additional worlds. The odds of me knowing where I was at any point in time had dwindled to a tenth of a fraction beyond nothing….

This was different.

Hawk, Ruber, and I had materialized inside a small cabin that looked like it had been decorated with things Cher considered and decided, “No that’s a bit over the top for my place.” Then whoever had done the decorating had decided to build on the idea of Hoarder Chic. Everything had been crammed into one very small room that looked like it might explode while trying to contain all of that fabulousness.

I saw Hawk’s mouth twist into a small grin as he absorbed the meaning of my thoughts through our mind-link thingy. Hey! Don’t look at me like that! I was the only geek in the world to never get into the X-Men, so the concept of having someone else’s thoughts in my head is kind of a new thing.

“So, is this it?” I asked. I didn’t move in case I’d back into something and get tacky all over my clothes.

Hawk opened his arms wide and announced in a booming voice, “Welcome to Teach Folaithe Titania.”

I looked over at Ruber, who waited a beat and translated the words into, “Titania’s Hidden House.”

I shook my head as I looked around the one-room cabin and then back to Hawk. “This is your mother’s home away from home? Kinda small, isn’t it?”

He gave me a grin that would have been cocky on anyone less attractive than him, which was everyone I had ever seen or met. In the same booming voice, he commanded, “Ordaímse duit a leathnú!”

The walls smoothly retreated away from us, and the ceiling rose silently above us simultaneously, making me sick to my stomach. I felt like I was moving, although my brain knew I was standing still…. Closing my eyes, I tried to settle my stomach for a moment before daring to open them again. When I did, I no longer stood in the Room of Ultimate Tackiness.

I stood unsteadily in the foyer of a mansion.

The room had quadrupled in size in a matter of seconds, and everything that had been crammed into the space was now tastefully displayed around us. It still looked tacky to me, but it was at least tastefully tacky. Hawk kept looking at me, waiting for a reaction to his trick, but honestly I just didn’t have it in me. I gave him a weak smile and collapsed into one of the chairs. “I’m really starting to hate magic.”

It was true. The number of things that a month ago would have been impossible previously was too high to count, and frankly it was starting to wear on me.

Three weeks had passed since Hawk had convinced everyone else we needed to gather an army. Since then I hadn’t had any time to adjust.

Ruber’s people began to sort through the mountains of information they had gathered for centuries about the realms. Their focus involved the previous three hundred years or so, after making the assumption that most of earlier history had either been repeated with modifications or was no longer relevant. I didn’t have a clue how they were doing it, but they were trying to find who would be willing to ally with Hawk when he faced Puck in the battle for Arcadia, the fallen capital of Faerth. The rumors circulating said that Puck, a changeling psychopath, had dealt with the royal family and seized the throne in bloody revolution and most likely had an army made of the Dark.

The Dark was the Arcadian name for any creatures they saw as beneath them and useful as servants of various sorts.

Puck might control the throne, but as long as Hawk still drew breath, Puck would never be king. He had sent a djinn, which looked a lot like Jafar when he became a genie in Aladdin, after us in an attempt to kill the only people left who could stop him. We had won, but at a cost. Ater’s—boyfriend? Lover? Husband? Partner, let’s go with partner—Ater’s partner had been killed while they saved Ruber’s younger brother. Pullus’s death slammed home to me that this wasn’t a fairy tale. Everything I’d been living through was real, and it was dangerous.

I had spent sixteen years being the most normal person I knew, and my ordinary life hadn’t trained me to cope with scouring the Nine Realms trying to find an army to fight a crazy shape-shifter. I mean, I had read all the books kids were supposed to read and had wished from time to time I could find an adventure like that. I wasn’t exactly wishing a tornado would come down and hit my house or that some ugly snake dude killed my parents when I was a baby, but there were times I had wished something exciting could happen to me.

And, presto, it had.

Now that wish seemed so idiotic. I wondered who would ever want something like everything I’d seen and done to happen to them.

“Are you okay?” Ruber asked, floating down to my line of sight. “Did the teleport affect you?”

See? That’s what I mean. Sixteen years and never once did someone ever ask me something like that.

I shook my head. “It isn’t that. I’m just tired.” Which was only part of it. Growing up, I never understood Dorothy and her constant whining. I mean, she lived on a pig farm in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas, her world was black and white, and some skeevy-looking farmhands worked for her aunt and uncle, and that was what she dreamed about going back to? She was in a world of color and magic and Lollipop Guilds and all kinds of cool crap, but all she went on about was how she needed to get home. I really thought she was just the dumbest girl I had ever seen.

Now I know exactly how she felt.

I missed my dad, I missed Jewel, and I felt sick to my stomach that they were out there thinking I was gone or worse. Every time I tried to picture what my dad must be going through, I wanted to fall down and cry.

But there was no time for that. The only thing we had time for was figuring out where there might be people willing to follow Hawk and then splitting up to find them.

Hawk knelt down and took my hand.

He knew the truth about my thoughts, the same way I knew he was dying inside not knowing if his mother was alive or not. Yet he didn’t say a word out loud about his fears. Even when Molly, Ferra, and Caerus, Ruber’s sister, had left the mountain to follow a lead the three of them had discovered, Hawk hadn’t let a sign of worry surface, although risking other people to help save his family was tearing him up inside. To the outside world, he looked like the very model of a confident leader. But I could hear him praying inside that they would come back safe, because if they didn’t, he would never forgive himself.

I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his, and we mentally hugged. But that hug was so much more than a physical embrace that I don’t know if words could ever convey the actual feeling. It was like being surrounded by this warmth of love so pure, so… yeah, I was right. Words just aren’t going to get it done. Let’s just say it’s the most intimate thing you can imagine, times ten.

Ruber’s voice interrupted my nirvana. “Is this a thing?”

From what I understood, gemlings don’t experience emotions the same way humans do. Hawk had suggested that because they had brains created literally out of stone, they were unable to experience feelings as deeply as we could. Ruber had suggested that Hawk shouldn’t talk about things he didn’t know about, which would leave him with very little to say at all. Hawk had suggested Ruber do something that would have been impossible even if the elemental had been flesh and blood, and the topic was dropped.

Hawk had literally saved my life with his love, and it was hard not to be overwhelmed by that. His people referred to what we felt as the Calling. The Calling was their version of love at first sight, except it seemed to come with magical powers and stuff. We had merged our… life forces? Souls? See, this is more X-Men stuff, so I don’t know how to explain properly, but trust me when I say it’s like we were one person sharing two bodies.

One of the bodies was handling everything better than the other.

“You could have warned me that the house was a Transformer,” I said to Hawk quietly.

I could feel him grab the relevant images from my memories. In the same moment, I could “read” the magical equivalent of robots in disguise. Turns out they were mechanical constructs like Molly, only giant-sized and without the manners.

“I thought you would know because I know,” he answered once he could feel my thoughts settle down. “I’m sorry.” The feelings of regret and sorrow were so real that even Ruber should have seen them oozing out of him, but then again, gemlings don’t really understand human emotions, so I wasn’t that shocked.

“I try not to pry” was all I could muster, because he knew the last few times I had pried, he’d pretty much lost his shit and yelled at me. There was so much in his mind he was afraid for me to know that it was easier not to read his mind than you’d think it would be.

He brought me in for a much needed hug, which of course brought a humph of impatience from Ruber.

If you ever have the chance to be friends with a talking magical ruby, turn it down. Talking magical rubies are major mood spoilers.

“So where are we again?” I asked after a few seconds of hug.

Hawk stood up and looked around. “This is—” I could feel him sifting through my mind to find a response I could understand. “—a panic room of sorts.”

The “room” we were in was several times larger than the one we had walked into, and there were three doors besides the one we walked in through, meaning it was so much more than a panic room. “You mean a panic mansion, don’t you?”

He grinned and walked over to the entrance. “You tell me,” he said, opening the door.

His thoughts were veiled, which meant he was just aching to surprise me again. Playing along, I walked over and stepped outside. It looked like a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Not even a nice cabin, but something more like one of those Abraham Lincoln cabins that no one, not even Abraham Lincoln, would want to live in. I looked inside and the room went on for days and days; outside, it was a tiny little structure. He stared at me with a small smile, waiting for me to lose it.

“So it’s a magical construct that houses a stable tesseract bending the laws of space?” His expression went from smug to outright shock in seconds flat. “In other words, it’s bigger on the inside.” I walked back in and closed the door behind me. “I watch Doctor Who, bitch.”

I swore I could hear Ruber chuckle quietly.

Hawk shook his head and tried to regain his mental footing as I sat back down. “Yes, good. Doctor Who… of course. My mother constructed this place some time back to be a secure location in case the capital was ever compromised.”

His words made my spider sense tingle.

“So either your mother is, like, the smartest person in the world, or she was expecting this somehow.” I could see by the reaction on his face he had been thinking the same thing.

“Puck has no idea Teach Folaithe Titania exists. The list of those who do know I could count on my hand,” he continued, ignoring my statement altogether.

“Okay.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “So we’re safe. And that’s great, but I thought we were looking for an army.”

“We are.” He walked over to one of the other doors and opened it. Looking back at me, he asked, “Coming?”

And resting time was officially over.

I asked Ruber, “Do you have any idea what we’re doing?” as we headed over to the open door.

“The prince has not found it necessary to share his plan with me.” From the tone of Ruber’s voice, he was not impressed by Hawk’s magical house either, or doing a better job hiding it than I was.

“All in good time,” Hawk assured us. “The fewer who know what we’re doing, the better. I have no idea where Ater or Ferra went, and they would have no idea where we are either. It’s for the best.”

What he wasn’t saying was that if one of us were captured and tortured, we couldn’t tell our captors what the rest of us were doing. The fact that he thought there was a very real chance we were being hunted did not make me warm and fuzzy inside.

I was so caught up in trying to figure out what Hawk was up to that I hadn’t noticed anything but the floor of the room we had entered. Hawk nudged me mentally, and I looked up. And up. And then up some more. Followed by up.

You know those giant libraries in movies, with the books that go from floor to ceiling and stretch off into the distance like they’re showing how short a football field is by comparison?

Those libraries were secretly trying to be like this one. Massive? No, bigger than massive. Uhm… oh God, I’m blanking on words for it. Vast? Epic? None of them really captured how encompassing the room really was. The roof was vaulted and composed of a series of curved amber skylights that made the room look like it was just going on late afternoon outside. There were huge velvet-covered chairs, and a fireplace against one wall that roared into life as soon as the door closed behind us.

“What in gay hell?” I exclaimed, craning my neck to keep on staring upward.

Hawk hadn’t stopped walking, so he was halfway across the room when he saw I wasn’t following. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

I gestured around us. “What is all this?”

He looked around curiously and then shrugged. “A library?”

Yeah, and “Dancing Queen” is just a song.

“This is impressive,” Ruber noted as he floated up to the books.

“See?” I sputtered. “The ruby who looks down his nose at everything thinks this is impressive. Why in the world would your mother have all this in a panic room?”

Hawk opened his mouth to respond, but Ruber beat him to the punch. “Most probably because she was concerned that the information contained in these tomes is too valuable to be left anywhere less secure.”

Hawk’s mouth closed into an angry line.

“Oh come on!” I protested before Hawk could lose his temper. “Just admit your mom knew something was up if she had a place like this ready.”

He glared over at me, and I could see the frustration and anger in those emerald eyes. “It is a library. Leave it at that.”

I looked over at Ruber and shook my head, telling him to drop it. Although I never knew for sure where his face was, he seemed to understand and continued a slow spiral up the shelves of books.

“So how does this get us an army? Do the books come to life or something? Because that would be badass.”

Hawk paused for a moment. “An army of books wouldn’t be very effective.”

“Seriously? You can read my mind but still can’t figure out when I’m joking?”

His expression didn’t change one bit. “I knew you were joking; I just didn’t find it funny.” I swatted at him, and he let out a small laugh. “Even though we’re far removed from the capital, Teach Folaithe Titania is still part of the royal grounds.”

His explanation meant nothing to me.

He strode over to the huge marble fireplace, with a mantle that bore an engraving of the royal seal. “There are certain things that the royal family can do on royal ground.” Casually, he traced his finger along the stone grooves of the carving. I thought he was lost in thought, or trying way too hard to be mysterious.

“Oh, that is clever,” Ruber noted, obviously understanding what I wasn’t.

“What is clever?” I asked, hoping one of them would answer.

The seal began to glow softly as Hawk took his hand away. The two chairs in front of the fireplace slid abruptly across the room, while the intricately woven carpet that had been beneath them faded away completely. I saw the royal seal again, this time carved into the stone floor and surrounded by a perfect circle.

In a loud, commanding voice, Hawk said, “I am the royal heir to the throne of Arcadia, and I have a message for the Family Crimson.”

Silently, the outlines of the seal darkened and deepened. In a trickle at first, and then more rapidly, what I could only think of as liquid light filled the incised marks. The light glowed brighter and brighter until I had to cover my eyes and look away. I was almost knocked over a few seconds later by an explosion of air. The library practically shook from the crack of thunder that seemed to come from nowhere. My vision was blurry and my ears were ringing as I looked back at the seal. A small figure, just a form as far as I could tell, hunched inside.

“Now see here,” a high-pitched voice exclaimed. “This is highly irregular, most improper.”

When my vision cleared, I could see whoever it was stood no taller than a child, wearing a weird hat.

“I am protected by the Seven Accords signed by the Crimson Monarch, Queen Demain herself. To touch my person is to declare war on all of Aponiviso!”

I rubbed my eyes, because there could be no way I was seeing what I was seeing.

In the center of the circle huddled a white rabbit about the size of a five-year-old child; it was wearing a vest, jacket, bow tie, and what I’d thought was a weird hat were actually its ears. As adorable as it looked, there was nothing cute about its tone of voice, which had escalated from outrage to the verge of panic.

“I am Milo Farnsworth, royal page for the Family Crimson. I demand to know where I am.”

I stared at Hawk and asked in shock, “Did you just kidnap the White Rabbit?”

Hawk’s expression was stern as he replied, “It’s only kidnapping if you ask for a ransom.”

Milo gaped at him and then back to me, his nose twitching in fear. “Oh my.”

THEREWASthe sound of whooshing air and then nothing.

The darkness was thick and oppressive, and Ferra swore she felt something staring back at her from the blank abyss as intently as she was staring into it. “Light?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. A greenish beam emanated from Caerus in response. The illumination did nothing to dispel Ferra’s wariness; she knew, if nothing else, the light gave an enemy something to aim for. “Are we here?” she asked aloud, her hand clenching into a fist. Ice began to form inside her grip.

A quiet whirring of gears from inside Molly was her only answer. About to ask again, Ferra stopped and watched as two lenses of incandescent green slipped into place, one over each of Molly’s eyes. The clockwork girl surveyed the darkness, and Ferra realized the lenses were helping her see in the dark. “We are in some kind of waiting area,” Molly announced in her melodic voice. If she felt any trepidation about the murk, she surely didn’t express it.

Caerus tried to increase the light. “I told you this was the most likely spot for the workshop to be.”

The location for the fabled workshop for Tinker and Jones, the inventors who had made Molly, had been one of great debate among the three women over the past weeks.

Tinker and Jones were the best clockwork makers in all the Nine Realms. Their creations were so sophisticated that it was nearly impossible for someone to claim they were not alive in some strange way. Coveted as the best of the best by the most influential people in the worlds, they went from being two little-known inventors to the only word in clockwork construction. They built a massive factory in Djupur Byrjun, Realm of Earth, to be closer to the raw materials needed to keep up with the ever-growing demands of customers. They were the very model of overnight success, and the legend was that both men grew insanely wealthy off their talents.

Which was why the dwarves of Kh’zdule had enlisted their aid against the Gnome King.

They had ordered an army of tik-tok soldiers to aid them in their struggle for survival and traded several hundred tons of raw material in exchange for the inventors’ services. It is here that the narrative becomes muddled. Some legends say that Tinker and Jones took the payment and fled Djupur Byrjun entirely. Other stories stated that the duo did indeed create an army of tik-toks but were attacked by the Gnome King before they could activate the army to defend them. These stories explain how the Gnome King was able to successfully attack the factory and wipe it off the face of the Djupur, leaving no trace of it at all.

Either way, the army, the tinkers, and the factory were never seen again.

More than a few adventurers had tried to find the fabled workshop, claiming that the tik-toks were the most mundane of the treasures that could be found within. Every decade or so the tales resurfaced and grew in stature, fueling even more curiosity about the lost factory of Tinker and Jones.

Caerus believed she knew where the factory was most likely to have been constructed and destroyed.

Molly, who had been designed and built at the factory, said she had no knowledge of the factory’s whereabouts but was adamant it had to be somewhere still within the city of Evna, the fallen capital of the Land of Eva. Caerus explained that the ruins of Evna had been explored extensively numerous times and had never once yielded a clue to the factory’s whereabouts.

The sapphire believed the Gnome King had not destroyed the factory but had instead stolen the entire building and laid waste to the city to cover the theft.

Ferra had settled the debate by saying the trio should explore both possibilities.

They had spent ten days rummaging through the ruins of the once great capital city and had found what every other explorer had found: absolutely nothing. Molly and Caerus, who had no need for sleep or sustenance, had searched the ancient ruins without pause, covering in seven days what other exploration teams had spent months doing.

Ferra had done her best not to show how bored she was with the whole endeavor and spent the week trying not to imagine the city as one giant tomb. Now, surrounded by a darkness that had eyes, Ferra realized she wished she was back in the tomb.

Molly walked out of Caerus’s light before Ferra could stop her.

“We should stick together,” the barbarian called out to her companion.

Silence answered her.

“Molly,” she tried again.

More nothing.

“Can you see in this?” she asked Caerus, worried.

“There is some kind of enchantment in the area…,” the gemling answered in a tight voice. She was obviously straining to push past the magics around them.

“Molly! Answer me!” Ferra shouted into the darkness. More silence, which had developed from a nuisance into a menace in only a few seconds. Ferra’s warrior’s instinct came to the fore, and she took charge.

“Follow me,” Ferra said to Caerus. “Make as much light as possible.”

They got two steps before the walls began to give off a slight glow. Within seconds, the barbarian could see Molly standing next to the far wall with her hand pressed flat to its surface. As the glow intensified, the details of the room became visible, pretty much dispelling any question that Caerus had found the first tangible proof that the workshop had not been completely destroyed.

One wall was covered with a brass construction in the shape of the Tinker and Jones logo, the same one on the key Molly used to wind her personality springs. The furniture in the room was as odd as anything Ferra or Caerus had ever seen. The arms and legs of the couch and three chairs had actual hands and feet connected to them, and the cushions were adorned with two closed eyes, while the seat had a painted mouth. After a second glance, Ferra could see they looked like they were actually squat, wide people.

“The lights are a good sign,” Molly said, pulling her hand off the wall. A small metal protrusion slid back into the palm of her hand with a whir and a click. “It means the generators are still carrying a current.”

Caerus was the first to notice. “Where are the doors?”

Ferra looked around and frowned; being boxed into a situation without an escape route wasn’t on any warrior’s list of favorites. All four walls were smooth, seamless metal. A quick glance downward confirmed Ferra’s suspicion that there was no way out under their feet. “What kind of room is this?” she asked, irritated.

Molly answered her. “A waiting room, I believe. This is where customers would wait to see a design constructor and explain what kind of a clockwork they needed.”

“How could they meet with anyone if there were no doors?” Caerus asked, floating around the room slowly.

“A fair question,” Molly said, walking over to the couch. “Maybe we should ask the assistants.”

Ferra looked around in confusion. “What assistants?”

Molly knelt down next to the side of the couch and slid a panel open, revealing a complex series of cogs and gears. Taking her own key, she inserted it into the center of the panel and slowly began to wind it clockwise. The high-pitched sound of rusted gears slowly beginning to move, screeching and groaning, grew so loud that Ferra clapped her hands over her ears to protect them.

“The self-lubrication system has failed,” Molly called out over the din. “That means it’s been sitting dormant for at least three centuries.”

“What are you doing?” Ferra practically shouted to be heard.

As if in answer, the two eyes on the couch, which Ferra had assumed were painted on, slowly started to open. “Oh dear Logos!” she exclaimed as she realized the couch was alive.

It took almost a minute and several eye blinks for the couch to “wake up” completely. Two bright yellow pupils looked back and forth, taking the entire scene in before the couch opened its mouth slowly. “W-w-w-eeeeeelllll…,” it moaned.

“Is it in pain?” Caerus asked, concerned.

Molly shook her head. She removed the key from one slot and slipped it into another. “No, its speech and congeniality springs need winding now.” Another couple of minutes passed as Molly wound four additional springs before putting the key away and stepping back.

The couch blinked a few times. Ferra could hear the slight sound of whirring gears from inside it now. Its mouth curved into a huge smile, and in an exaggeratedly cheerful voice, the couch exclaimed, “Welcome to Tinker and Jones, the premiere clockwork inventors of the Nine Realms and beyond! How can I assist you gentle beings this fine morning?”

Ferra looked to Molly and then to Caerus. “Is it morning?”

Molly shook her head as she examined the chairs. “Its internal clock has been reset. It thinks the day just started.”

“I hope you have not been waiting long,” the couch went on, ignoring Molly’s words. “It appears that the workshop is very busy right now. May I offer you a refreshment?”

“It just tried to communicate with the workshop and didn’t get a response,” Molly explained, moving to another chair. “That doesn’t mean anything, though. I have no way of knowing if the couch’s communication device is even functioning.” She stood up and wiped the oil on her hands on the seat of the chair. “The chairs are rusted solid; they are going to be no help.”

“Rusted solid?” Ferra asked. “What does that mean?”

Before Molly could answer, the couch replied. “Clockwork beings whose inner gears are rusted solid are normally beyond function, except in the rare cases they receive care by a skilled tinker. Do you have a damaged clockwork being in need of assistance?”

Ferra glanced toward Molly for a translation. “It means they are dead.” That Ferra understood all too well.

“So all we have is a talking couch for our efforts?” Caerus asked.

“The couch can be of some help,” Molly answered. “Ferra, ask the couch for something to eat.”

The barbarian looked shocked at the request. “Why don’t you just ask it?”

Turning to the couch, Molly said, “Couch, we are hungry. Please provide us with some food.”

The couch stood mute, its Ready light blinking.

“It is designed not to respond to my commands. Most clockwork beings have a failsafe in them that makes it impossible to give each other orders.”

“Why in the world would they make it like that?” Ferra asked in a disgusted tone.

“So we can’t order each other to rebel or to incite a rebellion against our owners,” Molly answered, her voice emotionless.

Ferra paused, not sure how to respond to that information. As happened every once in a while, she felt very much like a barbarian wandering in a strange land. Machines like Molly were unknown to her people, and though she could understand how Molly was alive, the thought of the clockwork girl inciting a rebellion was too much for her to imagine.

Caerus floated near the couch. “We are hungry. Can you bring us some food?”

“Of course! Where are my manners?” the couch responded, its voice sympathetic. The Ready light on its console changed from red to green as the couch communicated with a location somewhere in the structure around them.

Ferra jumped and formed an ice spear when the sound of grinding gears suddenly echoed throughout the room. The noise seemed to have no single source. It sounded as if it was coming from the other side of each wall. “What is that?”

Molly, who seemed unmoved by the commotion, looked from wall to wall in anticipation. Ferra’s hand began to glow with ice as Caerus watched in fascination. The noise grew louder before the sound of something breaking reverberated throughout the room.

Moving faster than they had ever seen before, Molly raced forward and began pushing on one of the walls. “Here!” she called to Ferra. “I need your ice, quickly!” Not sure what was going on but trusting Molly, Ferra strode over to the wall and placed her hands next to Molly’s. “Start freezing this area. Make it as cold as you can.”

Ferra nodded, focused, and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees instantly.

This close, Ferra could see that Molly was actually straining against the wall, pushing it as hard as she could. Generating more and more cold, Ferra could see a latticework of ice begin to build outward from her hands. The ice crept over Molly’s hands, encasing the polished brass surface and burying it under an ever deeper layer as the seconds went on. When the ice reached a radius of about two feet, two vertical straight lines were revealed, their width less than a hair. Two horizontal lines then appeared, creating the outline of a wide rectangle in the wall.

Molly pulled her hands back, easily cracking the ice that had sealed them to the wall. “That’s good enough,” she said, giving Ferra a nod to stop the cold.

Caerus floated right up the wall and examined the seals. In a tone of obvious awe, she exclaimed, “This was completely undetectable before.”

“The entire room is a clockwork construction,” Molly explained. “In fact, the whole workshop was.”

Ferra, who had been thinking over what Molly had said earlier, asked, “The workshop was alive?”

Molly nodded. “Of course. It was Tinker and Jones’s finest creation.”

Ferra gave a small smile and said, “I wouldn’t say finest.”

Molly giggled and covered her mouth with a still-thawing hand.

“I believe I can force it open now that I know it’s here,” Caerus announced, ignoring the couple’s flirting.

“Do you need any help?” Ferra asked.

Caerus didn’t answer. Instead, a malachite-colored beam lashed out from the center of the sapphire and hit the center of the panel dead on in a high-energy impact. Ferra had to look away from the beam when it became too bright, and she could feel the heat from where she stood. A pair of mirrored, polarized lenses slid down over Molly’s eyes to protect the sensitive optical mechanisms from harm while she watched the gemling work.

Caerus was able, slowly, to buckle the panel inward. The hairline seams began to expand as the metal melted. Caerus continued the barrage until the metal verged on complete meltdown. Satisfied with what she’d done, the gemling canceled the beam and floated back from the now blackened and scorched piece of metal. “Now ice it up,” she told Ferra. “And cover your eyes.”

Ferra held a hand up to her eyes as she touched the other one to the superheated panel. It went from glowing to iced over instantly. Cracks danced across its surface before it exploded outward, the radical change in temperature far too powerful for it.

Inside was a small alcove that was actually connected to a dumbwaiter, which allowed it to rise or fall as needed. Molly walked over and examined the inside walls for a moment before she put her hand into the gap and began to work by touch alone. “I think…,” she said as her hand moved, “there’s the panel….” The sound of more gears moving came from the once secret compartment. “And there!” she announced, pulling her hand out of the way.

The dumbwaiter crept into motion, lowering the sealed shelf out of sight. The creaking and groaning its gears and chains created echoed up the shaft.

Ferra cocked her head in Molly’s direction and received a nod in reply. Uneasy about the whole thing, the warrior walked to the wall and bent down to peer inside. When she looked back at Molly, her expression reflected puzzlement and annoyance.

“Now there is another wall,” Ferra said angrily. “What did that get us?”

“Patience, Ferra. Please,” Molly replied. She smiled at Ferra, who humphed and grumbled but at least didn’t stab a spear into the mechanism. Seconds later, another compartment slid down. This one was filled by a stack of five ancient containers covered with dust. With a click, the shelf locked into place.