The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom (7 page)

Kostya
picked up Nora’s Franken-sweater
off the back of her desk chair next, tracing his fingers over the different
parts. He grinned at Nora. “Very good.”

Dale cleared his throat, impatient. He didn’t care about
humans and magic. How did they fight the fairies?

“The Makers, the humans with magic that deals with the
present, are the rarest of all.”

“You said I’m a Maker,” Nora said.

Dale clenched his fists. He did, but didn’t, want to hear
about his sister’s magic.

“Makers transform things. Grass into rope. A cup of water
into rain. A leaf into a tree, or even a forest.”

“Lead into gold!” Nora exclaimed.

“No, no, that’s just a myth,”
Kostya
said, shaking his head. “It has a piece of truth, like most myths. It’s
impossible to turn lead into gold. They’re not alike.”

“Why did the rope Nora made turn back into grass so quickly?”
Dale asked, interested in spite of himself.

“Your sister is young, untrained,”
Kostya
explained, fingering the collection of rocks on Nora’s desk. “The
transformation was temporary, only a few moments, and only while she still held
on. As she gets older and stronger, she’ll be able to transform something
permanently.”

Nora looked at Dale. He saw unexpected fear in her eyes.
Nora didn’t want this ability. He nodded. She reached out and squeezed his knee
once, quickly. Her hands were still uncomfortably warm.

“What about the fairies?” Dale asked.

Kostya
sighed. “Thaddeus was the
Master Tinker in Queen Adele’s kingdom. Also her husband. As you know, all
proper clockwork needs jeweled bearings.”

Dale nodded. Grandpa Lewis had had what looked like a tiny
egg carton, with different sized jeweled bearings in each cup.

“We dwarfs are known for our mining. Thaddeus used my gems.”
Kostya
poked at the collection of necklaces hanging
on Nora’s dresser,
tutting
. Dale suppressed a grin.
Nora liked bright beads, not real jewels.

Kostya
continued. “We had a
misunderstanding. Thaddeus refused to pay me for some gems. I grew angry and
said regrettable things, then stole valuable equipment for my payment.” The
dwarf closed his eyes and held himself still. “Now, Thaddeus is dead and I can
never speak to him again.” He opened his eyes and looked at the floor. “A
tunnel collapsed while he was in it. The fairies think I weakened it, somehow
made it fall.”

“So you think the fairies are good?” Nora asked, puzzled.

“But the fairies kidnapped me!” Dale exclaimed. “How can
they be good?”

“They’re just desperate,”
Kostya
explained gently. “The great machinery of their kingdom needs a Master Tinker’s
hand. And you have great potential.”

“Am I a Maker?” Dale asked, confused.

“No, no,”
Kostya
said. “You have
an innate understanding of how things work.”

“But they kidnapped me.” Dale clung stubbornly to the
thought.

“That was Queen Adele’s mistake, sending warriors out. There
are different races of fairies, just as there are different races of humans and
dwarfs.”

Dale nodded cautiously. That made sense. Then he stopped.
The movement made his neck hurt.

“Don’t be surprised if Queen Adele tries to talk with you
next,”
Kostya
said.

“I won’t talk with her,” Dale said.

“That’s your choice, of course,”
Kostya
said, rocking back on his heels. “Still, I wish you would reconsider.”

“What?” Why would that sneaky dwarf want him to talk to the
fairies?

“Let me help you, instead,”
Kostya
said, stepping toward the bed. His strange eyes bored into Dale. “Work with the
Queen. Rebuild their machines. Let me provide you with the jewels. Then, when
you’re finished, you can tell the Queen how I helped. Maybe...maybe she’ll
forgive me.”

“I don’t know,” Dale said. He didn’t want to work with the
fairies. He didn’t want to continue meeting with
Kostya
.
The clockwork interested him, but that was all.

Nora squeezed his leg briefly. “Think about it?”

Dale looked at Nora. The promise of talking later, just the
two of them, shone in her eyes. “All right. I will.”

Kostya
beamed at them. “Good. Very
good.”

***

After the twins had left to talk,
Kostya
pulled a pillow out from Nora’s tangled sheets and put it in the corner. He
wouldn’t be seen immediately if the door opened. Once settled, he chuckled
quietly to himself. He couldn’t believe his luck. This plan was so much better
than merely killing the human Tinker.

While the twins had been eating,
Kostya
had strengthened the illusion of his appearance as well as adding another very
thin spell—anyone who heard his words would be inclined to believe them.
It wasn’t an absolute belief spell.
Kostya
didn’t
have the power or natural talent for that. Fairies did, and
Kostya
would have to warn the twins about it.

While telling his tale,
Kostya
had
maintained the thinnest line of truth through it. When the fairies had arrived
more than a century before and had started carving out space for their kingdom
in the cliffs, they’d run across a hidden hoard of
Kostya’s
jewels. They’d promptly stolen them, and Thaddeus had used them in his clockwork.

Kostya
had demanded their return.
The fairies had laughed at him. He hadn’t lied when he’d said they were natural
enemies. He’d stolen equipment from them in recompense, some of their tunnel-making
gear.

When the fairies had attacked
Kostya’s
home, they’d injured both
Kostya
and Galina, his dear
wife. The dwarfs had escaped, made a new home in a different cave, then started
plotting their revenge.

However, Galina grew ill.
Kostya
didn’t know if her wounds had never healed properly, or if it had been
something else the fairies had done. Though dwarfs weren’t known for their herb
lore,
Kostya
had picked up a thing or two. He knew
some
Kosta
Zie
grew on top
of a far hillside. It was good for injuries and brought down swelling. It was
rare in the New World, fragile, preferring shade.

All of it was gone.
Kostya
blamed
the fairies. They knew herb lore and had stripped the land bare.

Of course, the encroaching humans might have taken it,
ripping out the brilliant blue flowers to take home without realizing they were
destroying the entire plant.
Kostya
still blamed the
fairies when his wife died.

Now,
Kostya
would have his
revenge. The boy had no magic. He wouldn’t know when
Kostya
supplied him with a jewel that did something extra. His sister might realize something,
though, so
Kostya
would have to be extra careful.

The dwarf rocked back and forth as he thought. A series of
jewels, each with the tiniest spark of magic buried deep inside. They would
mean nothing by themselves. Together, with a touch of fairy magic, necessary to
power the machine? They’d explode beautifully, killing not only all the
fairies, but the kingdom itself.

Robert’s hands shook as he drove away, pushing his car to
the limit. The check in his shirt pocket burned his chest.

Chris had lied about everything.

He didn’t want his family back, just his son. The certainty
that Chris’ check would bounce rolled like a heavy weight through Robert’s
stomach. Chris’ business card had clinched it—there was no way Chris
would ever invite someone like Robert to his home or his office. It had to be
fake as well.

Anger boiled through Robert. He couldn’t go to the check
cashing store. He would never knowingly pass bad paper. His anger rose higher
when he realized he also had no money for the races now.

Instead of going to his hotel, Robert turned onto the interstate.
Driving always helped him think.

How could he verify the check was real? How would Chris burn
him? At least Robert had lied to him about it being the last day of school.
Robert prayed Chris wouldn’t find out about that.

Robert also had his insurance. He patted the pen in his
pocket. He’d been very deliberate and had selected his words carefully as he’d
handed over the folders. He hoped it was enough to use against Chris as
blackmail if he ever needed to.

Finally, after eighty miles, Robert had a plan. He stopped
at a large, well-equipped truck stop, complete with showers and banks of pay
phones. Robert found the number for Chris’ bank, then called them. He guessed
that Chris had paid him from a closed account—he just needed
verification.

Using his best southern drawl, Robert said, “Hi there, young
lady. How y’all doing today?”

“Fine, thanks for asking. How can I help you today?”

“I’m calling to make sure everything’s finished with my
account.” Robert read off the number.

“Yes, that account’s closed,” the teller confirmed.

“Thank you kindly,” Robert said, maintaining his character,
though his hands had started shaking again. “Y’all have a lovely day.”

“Thank you. You too.”

Robert hung up the phone and went back to his car. He had no
money and a scumbag for a client. He’d already burned through his advance. If
only his luck weren’t so rotten.

Would confronting Chris get him to pay up? No. Chris was in town
now, too close. He might be able to find his son on his own. He wasn’t dumb.

Denise and the kids were just going to have to move again.
Then Robert could string Chris along, saying he knew where they’d gone. It
would be a lie, of course. Robert would never track that family again.
Particularly not for Chris.

Maybe Denise would cover Robert’s fee, or maybe she’d pay
him to keep them hidden.

Humming, Robert got back on the interstate. He wasn’t that
hungry. If he had only a hamburger for dinner, he could make a small bet.
Enough bad things had already happened to him that day. Good luck was sure to
come his way now.

***

“Dale, you should go meet with Queen Adele,” Nora said
excitedly as she closed the door to his room. The desk in the corner had a box
of gears open, and tools spilled across it—the only sign of life as far
as Nora was concerned. Even Dale’s bed was made. She went over to his dresser
and pulled open the top drawer.

“Hey!” Dale said, walking over and closing it. “I don’t go
digging through your things.”

“I was just checking to see if you were still human,” Nora
said, grinning. “Messy sock drawer means you pass.”

Dale rolled his eyes and sat down in his desk chair. Nora
jumped on the bed, purposefully bouncing just so she could get Dale to sigh and
shake his head at her. “Are you sure you’re the elder twin?” he asked as he
started putting his tools away.

“Yes,” Nora said. She paused, suddenly feeling shy. She
looked down at the bedspread and started plucking imaginary fibers. “Do you
think...do you think it’s true? That I have magic?” She made herself look up at
Dale. He looked puzzled.

“Nor, I’ve already seen you do magic.”

“But—” Nora started, then stopped. How could she admit
to not wanting this? Everyone wanted this kind of power, to be special this
way.

Nora had always believed that her specialness was something
else.

“But what?” Dale asked. He sounded impatient.

“Nothing,” Nora said, looking back at the bed again.

“But what, Nor?” Dale asked again, this time more gently.

“But what if I don’t want to do magic?” Nora steeled herself
for Dale’s derision. Being an artist meant being different in a way she
understood. Magic meant being something strange, possibly important, and maybe never,
ever finding a family and fitting in. Magic to Nora was power, a fire that
could burn everything, including all her hopes and dreams.

Instead, Dale said, “Then don’t.”

“What?” Nora asked, looking up. Her brother had gone back to
putting away the things on his desk.

“Then don’t. No one’s asked you to. No one’s forcing you to.”

“
Kostya
asked me,” Nora said, a
little defensive.

“Yeah? So?”

Nora sighed and sat back, thinking. Dale was right. She
could turn her back on magic and all of this easily enough.
Kostya
would go home, or make a new home, and continue his feud with the fairies.

However, Dale was also wrong. He didn’t see how she couldn’t
refuse this gift. It was inside her, now. The knowledge burned brighter than
any power.

Besides, what would happen when the fairies came again? Nora
needed to be able to defend her family. “What about you?” she finally asked,
pushing her thoughts aside.

“What about me?” Dale asked. After a moment under Nora’s
stare he sighed. “I don’t like
Kostya
,” he admitted. “I
don’t trust him. And I don’t trust the fairies.”

“He said they wouldn’t hurt you.”

“How does he know for sure?” Dale pointed out. “Plus, he
said the fairies were good with illusions. How do we know what we saw was even
real? Maybe he’s the one who’s good with illusions.”

Nora knew Dale had a point. Still. “Aren’t you curious about
the fairy machines?”

As if against his will, Dale turned to the pirate box that
contained the one piece of fairy machinery he already had. He sighed. “Yeah, I am.
I don’t care about any old queen or that weird
Kostya
.
But that clockwork is beautiful.”

“Then you should talk with Queen Adele,” Nora said.

“No.”

“Why?”

Dale shrugged and turned back to his desk. “We should go see
Mom. Meet her after her appointment,” he said, deliberately changing the
subject.

“Why would we do that?” Nora asked, bewildered.

“She’s going back to the cardiologist.”

“It’s just a checkup.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Of course. Why would Mom lie?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Because she doesn’t want to worry us?
Think, Nor. What happens to us if something’s wrong? There’s no one to take
care of us here.”

Nora nodded slowly. “We could call Dad,” she said. Sure, Mom
and Dad fought sometimes. All parents did. She just wanted to see him and be a
family again.

“You don’t get it,” Dale said.

“Neither do you.”

Dale sighed. “And you’re ugly.”

Nora tried to suppress her smile. “And you’re stupid.”

“Demented.”

“Stinky.”

They grinned at each other. Everything was going to be all
right.

***

“Nora! Dale! Breakfast!” Denise called from the kitchen as
she expertly flipped the coconut pancakes. She’d already set the table with
milk and juice for the kids, coffee for herself. The smell of bacon mingled
with the sweet smell of coconut. Denise had been surprised that the twins hadn’t
come running once she’d started cooking. Though they loved these pancakes, she
couldn’t always afford to make them.

Denise finished the first batch, sliding two onto Nora’s
plate, three onto Dale’s, and one small one onto her own, then started the next
batch. “Nora! Dale! Now!” Denise called, annoyed that their breakfasts, and
hers, were getting cold.

Dale stumbled into the kitchen, hair perfectly combed but
his shirt skewed, as if Nora had grabbed it and he’d wrenched away. He still
wore the pirate scarf. “Smells great, Mom!” he exclaimed, diving for his seat.
He dumped a huge spoonful of Whipped Heaven—mascarpone, cocoa, and
cream—onto his plate and started shoveling food into his mouth as if he
hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Breathe, young man,” Denise warned him. Dale’s cheeks
looked a little puffy: a sure sign he was on the verge of another growth spurt.
She idly wondered how tall he’d get.

“Dale!” Nora called.

Dale stuffed another forkful into his mouth and stood up.

“Dale,” Denise warned. “Chew and swallow first.”

Dale did as he was told, then said, “I have to, ah, help
her. Okay?”

“All right, but hurry up or all the food will be cold.”

Dale raced out of the kitchen and down the hall. Over the
quiet ticking of the kitchen clock came frenzied whispering.

Just as Denise finished the second batch of pancakes, Nora
and Dale both came in.

“Wow, Mom, coconut pancakes?” Nora walked over to where
Denise stood by the stove and hugged her from behind. “I love you.”

Denise looked from one of her children to the other. Nora
met her gaze, but Dale looked guiltily down at his plate.

“All right. What’s going on?” Denise asked, putting the
spatula down and folding her arms over her chest.

“Nothing!” Nora protested in patently false, wide-eyed
innocence.

“Everything’s fine,” Dale told her.

Denise winced. Dale’s words held a flavor of defiance. But
now he stared at Nora, not her.

“It’s the appointment, isn’t it?” Denise asked quietly,
picking up the spatula again and sliding more pancakes onto all of their
plates.

“We were going to meet you at the doctor’s office,” Dale
explained. Then he glared at Nora. “At least, I wanted to.”

“There’s no need,” Denise assured him. “The appointment’s
just a routine checkup. I’ll go in, the doctor will ask me some questions, run
a couple tests, and tell me to come back in six months. Then he’ll charge me a month’s
rent for ten minutes of his time.”

“Really?” Dale asked. He looked more uncertain and lost than
Denise had seen him in a while. He’d grown up so much—sometimes she didn’t
see her little boy there.

Denise wished, more than anything, that she could go to him
and hold him as she had when he’d been small. He’d grown out of hugs and
cuddles so quickly. Bitterness tinged her regret. She blamed Chris, who’d
ridiculed anything tender as unmanly. “Yes,” she said earnestly, trying to at
least banish her boy’s fears with her absolute confidence. “I promise. Nothing
is wrong.”

Dale and Nora exchanged looks. Denise wondered if she read
this one correctly. Nora was saying,
See.
Told you
, while Dale continued to stubbornly not accept it. Finally the
twins came to some kind of draw and resumed eating.

“Should we have pizza tonight to celebrate the end of
school?” Denise suggested.

“Yes! Pizza,” Dale said, nodding. “That’s good grub,” he
added in his pirate voice.

“You’re deranged,” Nora told him, laughing.

“You’re even more so,” Dale continued, ginning.

After breakfast, Denise went to her office. It was really
just a glorified mudroom at the back of the house. An old desk that Eli had
gifted her with blocked the door to the yard. Denise hoped she’d be able to
take it with them when they moved: It was acres of smooth wood, heavy and
solid. Milk crates made up her bookcase. The only homey touch was a set of
silver wind chimes hanging in the corner that her father had made for her.
Denise couldn’t see the road from her desk, just a strip of trees at the end of
a large expanse of grass. She sat down in the hard kitchen chair she used as
her desk chair to check her email as well as her bank account. Still no money
yet from her latest client. They weren’t too late. Denise sighed and put in a
reminder to send them a note tomorrow about late payment. On the brighter side
of things, an old client had sent her a request to a bid on a new project.
Denise eagerly opened the email and looked at the details, then at her
calendar. Could she swing this?

A soft beep brought Denise back from her calculations. “Nora!
Dale! Time to go!” She dismissed the timer and pushed herself back from her
desk. “Let’s go!” she called, walking out of the office and down the hall. The
doors to both of the kids’ rooms were shut. Had they gone from their fake
insults to real ones?

Denise knocked on each. “Thirty seconds,” she warned. When
they’d first moved to this house, she’d set her alarm earlier, giving them all
a five-minute snooze. The kids had too quickly learned they didn’t need to pay
attention to her first call and ignored the others as well. Denise counted to
ten. When no one appeared, she said, “Don’t make me come in there and drag you
out.” She’d never had to resort to such a tactic, but the twins knew she meant
it.

Furious whispering met Denise’s request. Then the door to
Nora’s room opened and both twins came out. Nora closed the door to her room
deliberately.

“I know, I know, no peeking,” Denise said, trying to tease.

“Good,” Nora said seriously, then rapidly walked down the
hall.

What was up with the twins? This wasn’t excitement over the
last day of school. They were planning something.

Denise took a deep breath. She had to trust them. They weren’t
adults, not yet, but the only way they’d get there was if they had her respect.

At the twins’ request, Denise didn’t walk with them to the
bus stop. She watched them walk down the road from the kitchen window as she
did the breakfast dishes. They continued to argue intensely. Nora wanted Dale
to do something. What, Denise had no idea.

After Denise finished the dishes as well as her second cup
of coffee, she went back to her office. She wondered if a storm was
brewing—clouds covered the sky and the wind kept blowing the trees
around.