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.
Chapter Seven
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
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.
Chapter Seven
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
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