The Earl of Brass (The Ingenious Mechanical Devices Book 1) (20 page)

The Memory Chamber

Eilian drew in a deep, calming breath as he stared up at the ebony ceiling of the memory chamber. For the first time since Hadley bumped her head, he was uncomfortable in Billawra. The absence of all ornamentation and glowing diatoms or fungus between the tiles made the room feel more like a tomb rather than one of the most paramount rooms in their society. The memory chamber stood in the furthest corner of the library, far from the echoing bustle of the city’s central spire. The archaeologist reclined in the only piece of furniture in the room, which was an oversized, overstuffed, black chair that kept his body in a relaxed position while holding his head stiffly straight within a series of thin, iron rings. With a pang of panic, he wished he had asked Hadley to accompany him. Somehow she always knew the right thing to say to calm his nerves. Straining to see out of the corner of his eye, he watched Neuk move through the near darkness beside him as he fiddled with something below the arm of the chair. As he was about to look away, a copper rod sprang up. The scholar directed its empty arm until it pointed toward the younger man’s skull.

Neuk affixed an unblemished crystal within the metal arm’s grasp. “We’re nearly ready.”

“How does this work, Neuk?”

“Memory conveyance is a very simple process and is completely painless.” He smiled up at him, noting how Eilian’s hand quivered almost undetectably against the armrest. “All you need to do is think about speaking English, and I’ll do the rest. The crystal will be directed toward the parts of your brain that are active when you speak and understand English, and as electricity courses through the crystal, the information will be imprinted inside.”

Eilian dislodged his head from the apparatus and looked for a power source. “You have electricity down here? There are parts of London that don’t even have electricity yet. How is it generated?”

The older man chuckled as he turned a knob near the arm, causing a low hum to emanate from under the chair. “Nature provides it for us. There’s a vein in the tunnels where we extract copper from to form wires, and the wires are attached to the apparatus the crystal sits in. Below this room are turbines propelled by the river under the city, so as the blades spin, they create electricity by rubbing against the copper wires.”

“Fascinating,” was all he could mutter as he settled back into the wire cage. “In England, they act like it would be impossible to power the entire city without coal or massive machines, yet you do it so effortlessly.”

“Nature
always
provides us with what we need. We don’t use it for illumination because we have our moss lamps, but it powers a few of our important machines. Now, close your eyes and recite something in English within your mind.”

As Eilian shut his eyes and recalled all that he wanted to tell Hadley about the city’s hidden secrets, Neuk positioned the point of the crystal an inch above the young man’s ear and gave the conveyer’s lever a tap with his foot. The electricity raced up the copper wires and through the crystal until it leapt from the tip and was drawn toward his neurons. For an instant, it was as if all the words he thought were gibberish, but as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared. The scholar prompted him to continue, but this time, he pictured himself talking to Hadley after his surgery. The crystal was repositioned near his temple. When the spark penetrated the layers of matter beneath his skull, Eilian could no longer get the words out. With a wave of relief, the familiar phrases came flooding back as he was commanded to sit up. He ran his fingers through his wayward hair, combing away the static, as Neuk handed him the crystal, which now contained delicate dendritic vines at its base.

His eyes traced each line back to its origin. “This is incredible. Do you use these crystals for anything besides storing knowledge?”

“Yes,” Neuk replied as he stopped dismantling the armature, “a lot of people, when they become elderly, leave messages behind for their families. They also turn the crystals into jewelry, so they can keep their loved ones with them always.”

Eilian sat with his hands in his lap, staring at the ceiling as a smile crept across his face. “Would it be possible for me to make one of those?”

Even through the darkness, his brilliantly white teeth flashed in a wide grin beneath his beaded beard. “I would be honored to assist you.”

***

Hadley smiled to herself as the figures on her page finally seemed to come to life. Without her pastels, the drawings looked like so many other pastoral sketches, but once the forms and landscape were bathed in the cool, blue glow, they transformed into ethereal, otherworldly creatures living in a realm so unlike her own. Billawra was nothing like England, yet she was happier there than she had ever been in London or the Negev. She closed her eyes contently as the steam-warmed water lapped against her bare feet. The crunch of boot-soles on the sandy banks swished through the cavern behind her, but she kept her eyes shut and allowed him to think she didn’t hear his stealthy approach. Suddenly there was a handsome chin on her shoulder and soft, umber hair tickling her cheek. Eilian grinned as he stared down at her work. He was impressed by how she so wholly captured the spirit of the Billawrati but was mildly envious as she had yet to draw his likeness.

“How did it go?” she asked between breaths as she blew the excess powder from her paper.

“It was easier than I expected. Did you know they have the ability to create electricity from running water?”

The craftswoman laughed softly. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.” She glanced up into his grey eyes before putting her sketchbook to the side and clasping the hand that lightly encircled her waist, smearing blue pigment across his skin. “I found something I think you should see.”

Hadley silently led him across the damp sand to a slivered opening in the rock, barely wide enough to admit an adult’s form, and climbed inside. After a few strides, the narrow hall expanded into a grand staircase inlaid with tiny tiles of polished jade and mercury glass. As they ascended, the thundering cacophony of running water grew louder as the jade tiles dissolved into mirrors. A stifled gasp escaped her companion’s lips as he stepped toward the waterfall that cascaded over the ledge at the end of the stairs, polishing the rock for all eternity. The waterfall was the same river that snaked through the entire city not only powering mechanisms and machines but nourishing life great and small before terminating in the epitome of majesty. His surprised expression reflected back from all angles

“It’s beautiful,” he muttered in awe.

“Uta showed it to me yesterday. She said it helps to oxygenate the fish pool and stir the water enough to keep them healthy. Did you know she was not sure if she wanted to become an artist or a fish-keeper when she was younger? Now, she just makes fish the subject of her artwork.”

“You have been spending a lot of time with her.”

Hadley sighed contently as she and Eilian settled into the corner of the ledge with the heels of their feet dangling off the edge of the cliff-face. From their vantage point on the apex’s mantle, they could see the whole of Billawra as it spiraled away from them up toward the surface. People passed above them on their way to work or on an errand, completely unaware of the reverence they imparted on her life by simply existing. Eilian’s shoulder gently pressed against her spine as she leaned back and drew out her notebook from her jacket’s breast pocket, lovingly running her thumb over its leather cover.

“Despite her brusque exterior, she has been exceedingly helpful these past two weeks. I know I couldn’t have gathered nearly as much information without her acting as my liaison.” She smiled at the journal. “I find it strange how when Adam gave me this book, I thought it would be filled with mundane things, like what we ate or what we excavated, but now, it’s filled with information that has completely changed my understanding of life.

“I never understood why someone would want to be or even enjoy being a farmer. Now, as I talk to these people who have motives with no influence from wealth or poverty, I see it all in a new light. I never thought the smell of an orchard or following the generations of the same plant could be satisfying or even beautiful. They choose their professions because they are fascinated by them no matter how much they learn or how long they toil to achieve their goals. It seems pride in their work and in themselves is what keeps them going no matter how hard it is, and it ultimately leads them to a happiness that few back home will ever come to know. No one I have talked to regrets their choice, and if they found it wasn’t what they expected, they always have the option to change their minds.”

“You’re right. Their lives aren’t set in stone. They don’t need to spend years trying to elevate themselves or scrub away a stained reputation.” Eilian’s smoky eyes darkened. “I envy that they always have hope that things will get better. I wish we could stay here forever. If we did, you could make as many automatons as you could ever want to create and I could do research on ancient inventors and write all the books I always intended to publish. We could finally be happy.”

“What about poor Patrick? He would be worried sick if you suddenly disappeared, and he would be left destitute without a reference and would never be able to get another job. It would be selfish to stay. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to leave Adam behind all alone either. There is too much back in London for us to disappear simply to make ourselves happy. Maybe it would be too hard for us to change our ways so wholly. We will always think in terms of money and commerce.” Seeing the sadness creeping back into his strong features, she lightly stroked his cheek and made him meet her gaze. “Eilian, when I look out past the waterfall, I don’t feel regret or disappointment about what I will find when we come home. I’m hopeful for the future. Hopeful that one day people in England and all over the world will be able to see the value in each other rather than in things or status.”

Lord Sorrell wrapped his arms around her waist. “Then, let us be an example for those in London.”

Hadley allowed herself to be drawn closer until she was sitting on his lap. She put her journal to the side as his heather eyes pulled every fiber of her being toward him. Under the waterfall’s dewy spray, Eilian’s flesh burned through her dandy’s clothing as their bodies touched for the first time. Their breathing slowed as their lips met and their eyes dilated behind hooded lids. Chills swept over her body as his fingers roved up her neck and into her hair. The scintillating skimming of his hands brought Hadley’s lips back to his as he surfaced for one tremulous gulp of air.

His body gave into her fervent kisses as he leaned back against the damp wall. Shuddering at her touch, Eilian pressed his drumming heart to hers as her blue stained fingers cupped his face. Her artful fingers traced the curling scars of his neck until they came to rest on the marmoreal outcroppings of his collar bones. Their bodies breathed in rhythm, feeding off the other’s soul until Hadley’s lungs contracted in protest. Drawing back, she laid her cheek against his forehead. She sat back against his knees and smiled when she noticed the streaks and curls of blue pastel littering his cheeks. With the edge of her sleeve, she wiped away the evidence of their affection until they were nothing more than Lord Sorrell and Henry Fox, but as she reached his neck, Eilian wrapped his arms around her and embraced her once more.

The Enigma of Adam

“I hate Sir Joshua and Mr. Barrister more than they could possibly fathom,” Hadley Fenice spat as she slapped the dyed silk out of the green water and onto the damp, stone floor.

“Easy, easy! Don’t take it out on the fabric. It’s for Kae’s new costume!” Uta pulled it from the Englishwoman’s hands and gingerly wrung it out before inspecting the fabric for tears. “You know I don’t like them either, but what did they do to rile you up?”

She grunted querulously and took to scraping the green dye off the palms of her hands. “They have been absolutely horrid to Eilian since he told them Neuk did not want them to come here anymore, but this week they have been simply intolerable. Being rude to me is one thing because I don’t particularly like either of them, but Eilian still thinks of Sir Joshua as his friend even though the man treats him like utter rubbish.”

“What are they doing to him?” she asked as she submerged the swath of fabric back into the dye, accidentally dunking one of her thick braids in the process.

“Every time we are about to leave camp, Joshua starts making fun of your culture, calling the Billawrati all sorts of names and just making a fuss because he knows it upsets Eilian, but when we get back, it is even worse. At night, Eilian would spend time with the men who work for Sir Joshua, but now, he has forbidden them from speaking to us by threatening to fire them if they disobey. They are all so afraid that they ignore us like we are dead, but I can see it in their faces that they don’t want to treat Eilian so poorly.”

Uta pulled the long lock of hair from the bowl, frowning at its lime tint. “Why make fun of
us
? I can’t imagine what that would accomplish.”

“It makes Eilian upset because he appreciates your way of life. What really makes me angry is what happened last night. When we got back, the men had been sent to their tent for the night while Joshua and Edmund were still sitting at the campfire. Eilian had not done anything except say good-night to them, and Joshua suddenly started to tear into him. He called him useless, an invalid, and told him that if his father was not rich, he never would have let him work with him even before he lost his arm. I don’t understand how they can be so cruel. Getting thrown out of Billawra was their fault anyway, not Eilian’s or my doing.”

Hadley stood beside the six foot tall woman as she helped her wring out the excess dye and hang the cloth from a hemp clothesline to dry, waiting for the reply she knew would never come. It was one of the things she found refreshing about Uta. She didn’t reply with empty platitudes, and Hadley preferred silence to the expected phrases. Uta ambled over to the pile of notes on her stone workbench and inspected her sketches again, looking from picture to fabric to confirm that the dye left behind the perfect shade of pigment. Once she was satisfied with her work, she retrieved a pouch of multicolored clay beads painted in the seven vibrant hues of the rainbow and a spool of silk string. The valkyrian woman handed Hadley a fishbone needle and a length of twine before somewhat patiently teaching Hadley how to create a miniature flower. The craftswoman mimicked her instructor’s motions but ended up with only an ugly bead-covered knot.

She laughed for the first time that day, her minor failure finally breaking her foul mood. “I have never been good at the needle arts.”

“I can see that,” Uta chuckled. “So what did Eilian do?”

“Do?”

The artist laid her fourth tiny wild flower to the side as Hadley finished her first. “You know, how did he react to what Joshua said? Did he yell or strike him?”

A crestfallen sigh escaped her lips. “That’s the saddest part. Eilian just stood there silently and took it. He didn’t even say anything in his defense. He just let Joshua degrade him until he ran out of things to say. I have been trying to figure out why he never fights back, but I think he is still insecure about his missing arm and believes him. When I first met him, he told me he worried how others perceived him or if he would be able be normal again.”

Hadley’s voice cracked against her will as she continued, “Last night, Eilian came into the tent breathing very stiffly. I thought he was finally going to retaliate, but it turned out his arm was hurting worse than ever. The pain only seems to come when he is really upset, and it took over two hours of rubbing and talking to get the pain to abate enough for him to sleep. Eilian is the last person who deserves to be treated that way, especially by lowlifes like them.”

When Uta finally looked up from her work, she was startled to find the Englishwoman wiping her reddening eyes with the heel of her hand. She averted her gaze and tried to listen to the crystalline aria that rang through the still air in the distance, but all she could hear was Hadley’s sniffling and shuffling as she dislodged her handkerchief from inside her tailored jacket. Uta hesitated, unsure if she should comfort her since Kae was the only person she had ever actually touched. Finally, she stiffly patted the other woman’s shoulder and went back to crafting her beaded flowers.

“Why is what’s-his-name being so rude all of a sudden?” Uta asked, changing the subject in hopes of keeping her companion’s tears from getting out of hand. “He wasn’t as bad as Barrister when they were at the banquet.”

Hadley shrugged. “I guess Sir Joshua is feeling insecure too. After nearly a year in the desert, he still hasn’t found anything noteworthy. Maybe he thought discovering where Billawra was would be the break he has been looking for, but now that he has been barred from coming here, that dream has fallen apart. Since we are still welcome, he’s taking his anger out on us.”

“He’s taking it out on you as well?”

“No, not as much,” she stammered, tidying her hair and dabbing at her eyes. “Mr. Barrister has made me his object of derision. He likes to call me things like ‘dandy’ or ‘popinjay,’ but it doesn’t really bother me.”

“I don’t know what those words mean.”

Hadley thought for a moment, searching for the right explanation. “It’s like calling someone a feminine man.”

Uta’s body rocked with laughter as she pulled down a dried piece of silk and draped it over a wire model of Kae’s form. “You had better work on that silly voice you use before he figures you out.”

“It’s not exactly like that. He’s trying to insinuate that I am a man who loves other men.” When Uta’s mint-green eyes showed no flicker of significance, she added, “He’s being derogatory. In England, liking your own sex is a bad thing. You aren’t allowed to do that, and you could be severely punished for it.”

She raised a white brow. “How?”

“Well, you probably would not get in trouble because you are a woman, but in the past, men have been executed for sodomy… even if it’s mutual.”

Uta shook her head as she pinned the cloth into the shape of a tunic. “Your country sounds horribly intolerant. From what you say, there are rules for even the pettiest things and punishments for things that harm no one. I understand rules for safety or learning or trade and animals because those things impact the whole society, but why make rules about what you wear, what your house has in it, or who you love? Those things are your business, and if what
you
are doing isn’t hurting anyone else, then why should the government have anything to say about how you live your life?”

“I don’t agree with the way they do things and don’t like it, but I can’t do anything about it,” she replied half-heartedly as Uta motioned for her to hand her the deformed flowers she made while they were speaking.

“You can do something about it. You can be yourself. Why don’t you not wear your corset and instead wear your trousers? That would be a start, and maybe others would follow your example.”

Hadley sighed as the artist began to create a meadow of wild flowers on the hem of her wife’s costume. “It doesn’t work that way, Uta. If I did that, they would call me all sorts of rude names behind my back and ostracize me. I can bear their criticism by myself, but I won’t let gossipmongers ruin Eilian or my brother’s reputations as well. It isn’t worth doing if my actions hurt them.”

With a grunt, Uta gave up and turned her full attention to stitching the side seams of the chemise with silk thread. Hadley’s mind wandered as she stared off into space, listening to the faint zip of the needle passing through the fabric with each stitch. She closed her eyes as the song from the amphitheater below grew louder. The complimentary voices of a contralto and a tenor intermingled, blurring genders and stories as their words collided. The tenor sung about following his instincts and dancing from his soul, but the song soon turned to his fear of never performing as well as those who formally trained. In reply, his companion lamented her years of researching dances, knowing them all by heart and song but never taking a step herself. The contralto’s sweet, melancholy aria reminded her of Eilian, who, even as she mused, was up in the library researching ancient engineering. Ever since the men had taken to treating them poorly, he had shut himself away in an unused nook from the time they arrived until sunset.

Picturing Eilian buried up to his elbows in books made her wonder what Adam was doing. When she and Eilian were together laughing and smiling, her life back home seemed to melt away, but as the emotions swirled and cracked through her façade, she began to worry about him. She checked off her usual clients and the items they purchased each month in her mind for the hundredth time and hoped she had left enough stock for him to fill everyone’s orders. The profits along with his paycheck should have been enough to live on even if he was unable to fill more specific orders, but she still worried it wasn’t enough. What continually gnawed at her was the image of him sitting at home all by himself for months. Hadley pretended to study Uta’s sketches as she ruminated on her brother’s character.

He was her twin and in some ways so similar to her yet different enough to balance her temperament. Adam was much more mellow than she was, and while his innate nonchalance was often maddening, he could alleviate her fears when she was fretting about the business. His tidy ledgers kept her messy studio running smoothly and never allowed her to fall into financial chaos. Besides sharing the same hair and eye color, they always shared common interests, especially as children. Their father had tried to convince Adam to read the books he and George loved, like
Robinson Crusoe, Le Morte d’Arthur
, or Homer’s epics, but he preferred their mother’s shelf of Austen’s novels and Shakespeare’s plays. As they grew up, they would trade books and threaten to spoil the ending of
Jane Eyre
or
Cleopatra
if the other didn’t do what they said.

While she was busy building as many automatons as she could in the months leading up to her trip, Adam was devouring anything he could get his hands on by his new favorite author, Oscar Wilde. When he had thrust the magazines with his short stories or essays into her hands to read, she left them for her meager allotment of free time before bed despite his eager protestations that she drop what she was doing to read them immediately. Hadley couldn’t deny that Mr. Wilde was an excellent writer, but she preferred Poe in beauty and horror. She inadvertently told her brother so while she was busy working, which resulted in not only the most guilt-inducing grimace but the sudden cessation of all attempts to make her read his work again. They weren’t on speaking terms for the rest of the weekend.

“What are you thinking about?” Uta questioned, finally breaking her reverie.

“My brother. I feel guilty that I left him home alone while I came here.”

“He doesn’t have a companion?”

“No,” she replied with a sigh. “I have always wondered why a hardworking, handsome man like him doesn’t have women lining up to be courted by him.”

“Maybe he’s too involved in his work,” Uta mumbled with a handful of pins hanging from the corner of her mouth, “or is too shy.”

She shook her head. “He is anything but shy, and he has plenty of leisure time in the evenings. Last year, there was a young lady down the street, a milliner’s daughter I believe, who was always placing herself in his path. I thought for sure they would be compatible for each other, but one day I saw them talking heatedly on our steps. After a moment, she stormed off, and they never spoke again. Now, they seem to avoid each other. I want him to find a wife because when I get married and move out, I do not want him to be alone for the rest of his life.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like women,” Uta replied indifferently as she finished sewing.

“Surely he would tell me if he was a—”

“If it is as taboo in your society as it seems, he may be afraid of how you will react. Would you tell anyone if you could die or be imprisoned for it?”

The saliva dried in her mouth as the thought reverberated in her mind. “What should I do?”

She let out a throaty chuckle. “Do? There is nothing
to
do. I didn’t choose to love Kae, just as you didn’t choose to love Eilian. Your brother has no control over whom he is attracted to.”

Hadley opened her mouth to speak, but Uta’s gaze traveled to the doorway that led out to the rest of the studios and galleries. As she turned to see who it was, the curtain was drawn to reveal Eilian Sorrell in his khakis waiting for her with tender eyes. Bidding Uta good-night, she went to his side, ready to return to camp before nightfall and face the scolding from the men that was sure to follow.