The Machines of Theda, page 19
part #3 of The Monster Of Selkirk Series
“Rodrigo, stop. If you would just let me finish. I was about to say very much the opposite. Wodan’s Garden, I make one senseless remark and you start making outlandish assumptions? Look, I apologize for leading you on. It was wrong of me. It’s just…well, I’m sure you know the effect you have on people.
“The truth of the matter is I want to be with Tomas. I’m choosing to stay with him because I want to, and not because of some misguided sense of loyalty to an old friend. So, I think it would be best if we don’t make a habit of meeting like this,” Tallis said, folding her arms over her letter, and meeting Rodrigo’s unwavering gaze.
She watched his eyes darken with an incensed rage, and his cheeks flush under his manicured facial hair. Tallis was surprised by the intensity of the response. While she had not been forthcoming in waving off his advances, she certainly had never given him the impression that she would be running off with him, either.
“I had plans for us, Tallis. Marvelously grand plans. You were to be my first mate, and with a weapon like you by my side, we would have reclaimed what the pirates of Andor forced me to give up,” Rodrigo said coldly, as if the admission were enough to alter Tallis’s decision.
“Well, I’m sorry you got it into your mind to do that. You have to admit that’s rather presumptuous of you, though. I may have promised to show you how I fight, but I said nothing to lead you to believe I would become part of your cohort, or whatever,” Tallis said as diplomatically as she could.
As he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, Tallis hurriedly went on, “I’m really sorry for giving you the wrong idea, Rodrigo. There was never going to be an us, so to speak. And for the record, I hate being on a ship for long periods of time. I’d make a piss-poor pirate.”
Rodrigo only continued to glare at her in silence. He was a man unused to being denied by anyone, let alone a woman. She guessed she was the first in a very long time to ever reject him, and she wasn’t sure if she should be annoyed at his assumptions or pity his inability to cope with being denied the things he wanted. Tallis began debating leaving the speechless pirate where he stood when one of Rodrigo’s many associates scurried over with a parcel from Captain Pol’s ship.
Dragging his eyes from Tallis, Rodrigo flicked open the message and scanned its pages. As his eyes drifted down the sheet, the corners of his mouth began to tug upwards in a smile. Grinning mischievously, he dismissed the young man. “Thank you, Otho, that will be all.
“Don’t worry your lovely head about it a moment longer,” Rodrigo said a heartbeat later with just a hint of his former unconcerned nature. “While I am sorely disappointed in losing your company, I understand your decision. I do hope however, you change your mind before too long, or I fear you may come to regret your choice.”
Tallis cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering what the letter could have said to so drastically alter Rodrigo’s mood. When he did not enlighten her as to its contents she narrowed her eyes, and said continuing on her way, “I have many regrets, Rodrigo. Being with Tomas has, and will never be, one of them.”
Rodrigo’s strange behavior continued to nag at Tallis as she skirted the jagged bluffs that rose above the roaring sea below. She was uncertain what messages Captain Pol could have been delivering for the pirate, or which of the posts from Selkirk Rodrigo thought it necessary to commandeer. But Rodrigo had always been secretive about his business pursuits. By now, she shouldn’t be surprised by his odd and dishonest behaviors. But there was something to the way Rodrigo smiled upon reading that message that left Tallis uneasy.
To distract her mind from the dark thoughts that seemed to hound her like wolves hunting in the dead of night, she opened Rosslyn’s missive. Looking down at the messily scrawled letter, the sharp image of Rosslyn hunched over a desk, her tongue sticking out as she concentrated on the words she was trying to pen, came to Tallis’s mind as she began to read.
Am I supposed to start this with “Dear Tally”? That just feels odd to me.
Well, polite protocol aside, I miss you. Selkirk hasn’t been the same since you’ve been away, as I’m sure you can imagine. The whole country has split into sides over the tremps. The side that believes the story of the demon, and the side that doesn’t care you had nothing to do with the uprising.
The whole country is on the brink of civil war, and as much as I’m loath to admit it, I’m feeling sorry for the tremps. They actually are trying to make amends, but it’s rather hard to apologize when you’ve got a blade sticking out of your belly.
For the most part, they’re just hiding out in the forest, hoping for this mess to blow over. I’m not sure it’s going to, at least not without more help.
I hate to say it, but your pop and that ugly bloke, Henrik, have become bosom buddies as of late when it comes to hunting for you. I’m doing what I can to keep them distracted, but I fear they’ll eventually realize you aren’t in Selkirk anymore.
Thanks to the two of them, there isn’t a man, woman, or child who doesn’t know who you are or what you look like anymore. You were right to leave. It would have been impossible for you to hide here with all the fuss they are making saying you instigated the war and that you’re an agent of the demon.
Most people know it’s preposterous, but they still want someone to blame for their hurt and misfortune. I had hoped your uncle or Donovan’s old lover, Nessa, would have spoken up on your behalf, but they are keeping silent on the topic. Probably still too upset over Donovan’s death, I’d wager….They don’t agree with your pop or Henrik, but they don’t contradict them, either.
But enough about depressing matters. I do have a bit of good news for you. I found my family!
They were in the Doriath Forest just outside of Moray with my brother’s clan. My mum, pop, Loren, and Munro all managed to come out the other side of this nasty business none the worse for wear.
It took me a while to find them, which my pop will never let me live down. He says that had I used any of my Sipsi sense we would have found them first after leaving Perth.
My family sends their regards and their sympathy, by the way. I told them everything that happened and they want me to tell you how sorry they are for your, well, for our loss, really. They didn’t know Donovan well, but they remember how fondly you spoke of him, and they were sad to hear he didn’t make it.
I still have nightmares about that day, you know. I’d give anything to take it back, to make it so Donovan didn’t die. I wish so many things had turned out differently now. If I had known the true gravity of our situation, I would have been kinder. I would have told Donovan I always considered him a friend, despite all our quarrels.
But there I go again, talking all kinds of gloomy nonsense.
Oh! Do you remember that old woman we saved in Dumfry? Athdara, the one that gave you Wodan’s blessing before she fled, remember? Well, I found her on my way to finding my family!
The old lady managed to survive! But not only that, she’s been spreading the good word about what you did to save her when the knights and brothers had abandoned the old folks, and essentially condemned them to death. I can barely understand what she says half the time, but she’s been a blessing in helping clear your name. I’ll be sure to tell her hello on your behalf; the old coot would like that.
Now you be safe and give my regards to our old Ser Soon-To-Be-Brother, though I’m sure that moniker isn’t really accurate anymore. Things must be so wonderfully uncomfortable between the two of you. Both of you are so unskilled when it comes to wooing anyone. Oh, how I wish I could see your awkward fumbling!
Anyway, just tell Tomas I said hello.
I miss you, friend, I hope to see you soon, but until then keep writing! I want to hear all about Theda and the yummy people you’re encountering!
Do I say love here? Or sincerely? Oh well, you know I’m no good at these kinds of things.
Rosslyn.
Tallis chuckled as she tucked the letter into her belt. “Oh, Rozy, what am I going to do with you?”
She stared up into the flawlessly sapphire blue sky for a moment, imagining what Rosslyn would say in response to the letter that spoke of her confusing feelings for Rodrigo. Not that those mattered anymore. She resolved to write another letter to send with Captain Pol detailing the progression of her relationship with Tomas, and her lack of one with Rodrigo. If nothing else, Rosslyn would find it amusing.
Tallis continued through the tall, dry grass surrounding the bluffs, taking respite from the heat with the occasional spray of wayward sea water wafting over her. She allowed the gentle tug of the ancient Vanir to guide her to her destination, like a silk rope tied around her core.
The sensation was better than any map Tallis could have ever hoped for. No matter which way she turned, the gentle tug of power always put her right back on course.
Then, just as the sun had reached its zenith, Tallis saw it. A solitary old olive tree overlooking the ocean far below. It was a short and squat tree, with coarse grayish brown bark that appeared twisted, as if shaped by the unforgiving wind. Its feathery, oblong leaves danced in the wind, dislodging fat, purple olives to the ground at its base.
Even from where she stood, Tallis could feel the ancient wisdom of this sentinel tree. In many ways it reminded her of an old soldier, dispatching harsh wisdom and protecting its charges until the end of its days.
If Tallis closed her eyes it was easy to imagine that such a being had, indeed, been an elf at one point in time. But looking at the twisted little tree, Tallis could see nothing of the elves’ beauty and willowy elegance. Shaking her head, she wasted no more time and climbed the gentle slope up to the lonely olive tree.
Much like the elder yew tree in Selkirk, Tallis didn’t need to place her hands on the scratchy trunk for the tree to seep into her mind. But unlike the trees back in her home, this was no gentle connection, as the abrasive and brusque mannerisms of the tree forced itself upon her.
I was told to expect one such as you. I did not believe my daughter when she said you would come, the tree said in her mind. Its voice, while strong and deep, like a hundred baritones speaking as one, seemed to come from far away, making it take a long time for it to say anything.
“You sound disappointed that I’m here. Most of your kind back in Selkirk were happy to speak with me,” Tallis responded, taken aback by the curt greeting.
I have seen too much to be disappointed anymore. I had only hoped you did not exist. My children in your country were not in possession of their minds when your creation was decided. There were better ways to go about your conception, and the affair surrounding it.
“I don’t understand, better ways to go about what?”
I do not question that your making was a necessity in one form or another. But not having you prior to my sister leaving her Gate behind was a mistake. The rest you must learn from my daughter. That is why you are here, is it not?
“Well, yes, but I had hoped to learn more about what’s going on from you as well. I hoped to take more insight with me before meeting with Ballinel.”
There is an ancient part of your soul, now colored in darkness of your own making, that can be harnessed to help my children. That is the only wisdom I wish to impart. I will speak no more. I do not trust you.
“What have I done to be so mistrusted? I saved your people from their enslavement, and you treat me as if in freeing them I committed the greater sin,” Tallis said, horrified that the tree seemed to be in favor of what the demon had done to the elves in Selkirk.
Perhaps you did. Speak with my daughter. I will show you the way and nothing more, the ancient olive tree said, its voice fading from her mind.
Its deep tones were soon replaced with a flood of images: endless golden grasslands ending abruptly at the banks of a periwinkle blue river that rushed down the slopes of the hillside into the ocean. Just across the wild river and encased in a grove of old myrtle, olive, and chestnut trees, were the stately dwellings of Mazara.
Tallis frowned at the olive tree and defiantly placed her hands on her hips. The tree may have shown her where to go, but not how to cross the river. “That river is far too wide and strong for me to swim. How am I supposed to get there?” Tallis asked, refusing to leave until she had an answer.
Begrudgingly, the Vanir responded, There is a way. But I cannot tell you. It is a trial to test your commitment to hearing out my daughter. She claims you are resourceful, in truth, you must be, given what you were able to accomplish in your far-off land. Now go. The light will begin to fade and you will need it if you do not wish to drown.
Gritting her teeth, Tallis set out in the direction of the river with an itchy feeling in the back of her mind that told her to be wary of the olive tree and Ballinel, in particular.
It seemed so unnecessary to further test Tallis’s resolve to hear out the high priestess, especially when she had made it clear she would like Tallis to be receptive to her proposal. Making her trek more hazardous didn’t sit well with her. Tallis was half-convinced the olive tree merely wanted her to drown and never meet with Ballinel.
Tomas was distracted by everything other than what Fabiana was explaining as they rattled along the road to the Ordine della Macchina.
Tomas worried about Tallis and what she would or would not find from Ballinel and her people. He trusted the pendent he had given her to alert him if anything were amiss, but he couldn’t necessarily trust Tallis would know when to call for aid. Tomas cherished Tallis with every breath in his body, but she still had not learned how and when to ask for help.
“Are you listening to me, Tomas?” Fabiana asked as they stopped in front of her workshop door.
The student offices were propped in front of the main factory, making the building bulge like a bloated white whale. Even the dignified and majestic fir trees that lined the buildings were dwarfed by the sheer size of the marble factories.
While the students’ rooms were larger than most of the study rooms in Kincardine’s old monastery, there was no mistaking where all the real work was conducted in Theda, and that was from the behemoth that was the proper Ordine della Macchina structure.
The Ordine della Macchina was nestled in the gentle crook of a river bend that awarded it ample access to furiously churning, sage green water. The roiling, murky water made a loud whooshing sound as it crashed and rolled over unseen rocks, drowning out the loud buzz of electricity, and the clanging of brass and copper tools constantly ebbing from the buildings.
The sheer force of the angry river helped power some of the larger machines and devices hidden within the colossal factories. They were large and noisy machines, meant to assemble parts of large farm equipment as well as the secret and fragile generators that served as the conductor that powered the numerous coiled towers throughout the country.
There were other devices housed within the tightly-guarded building that not even Fabiana knew about with any level of certainty. All she knew was that only the masters of her order were permitted to go inside.
Focusing his eyes back on Fabiana and forcing himself to pay attention, Tomas quickly racked his brain to catch up on what she had been talking about as they entered her personal workshop. Fabiana had been commenting on the importance of properly maintaining the coiled towers that stood like foreboding sentinels over the building when Tomas began daydreaming.
Fabiana had been explaining that if they were not adjusted and operated on with the utmost care in order to maintain their efficiency and energy output, then the maximum voltage point could occur below its mandated threshold. Should that happen, the towers could spark; if the worst occurred, the surge could even destroy the nearby buildings.
Smiling broadly, Tomas responded as if he had been enraptured by every word, lest he hurt her feelings. “Of course. I can see why maintaining the towers would be a constant job. Destroyed buildings are generally a bad thing.”
Eager to distract her from his lapse in attention, Tomas decided to show Fabiana how he was leveraging Theda’s electrical currents in his own creations. He hoped to win her praise and temper her suspicious gaze.
Opening the door for her, Tomas said shyly, “Um, did I tell you I managed to fashion a…a location tracking device?”
“Truly? How did you accomplish that? May I see this homing device of yours? I’d very much like to examine it,” Fabiana said, gripping his hand in her excitement to see his device.
He noted the rough callouses on her hands from healed electrical burns. Her hands felt a little like Tallis’s, rough and unafraid of hard work. They were not the hands of a lady, but he found he liked the rough texture; it meant these hands were capable.
Momentarily lost in his own thoughts, he failed to notice Fabiana’s hand was still in his, and he couldn’t help but blush. He wasn’t sure if it would be rude to drop her hand now or not, especially since she seemed to be in no hurry to relinquish his grip.
Ignoring it for the moment, Tomas pressed on, “Ah, well, no…I can’t show you the whole device, unfortunately. I gave the other half to Tally. But I can show you my half of the tracker, if you’d like.” Tomas gently released Fabiana’s hand to take off his cufflinks.
Fabiana’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced contemptuously at the cufflinks. Flicking her attention away like a whip on a horse’s backside, she said, “I think the device would have been a bit more useful if you hadn’t turned it into a trinket. Really, Tomas, you should be looking at these inventions of yours on a much larger scale. You’ll never hope to improve if you do not.”
Tomas gently closed his hand over the intricate cufflinks, his shoulders stiffening at her dismissal. He had expected Fabiana to be a little more impressed with what he’d accomplished in the span of a few days. But it was beginning to seem as if nothing he did was inherently good enough or met Fabiana’s exacting standards. Her opinions mattered to him as one intellectual to another, but he was starting to lose his exhaustive patience at having his contraptions so lowly regarded.
“The truth of the matter is I want to be with Tomas. I’m choosing to stay with him because I want to, and not because of some misguided sense of loyalty to an old friend. So, I think it would be best if we don’t make a habit of meeting like this,” Tallis said, folding her arms over her letter, and meeting Rodrigo’s unwavering gaze.
She watched his eyes darken with an incensed rage, and his cheeks flush under his manicured facial hair. Tallis was surprised by the intensity of the response. While she had not been forthcoming in waving off his advances, she certainly had never given him the impression that she would be running off with him, either.
“I had plans for us, Tallis. Marvelously grand plans. You were to be my first mate, and with a weapon like you by my side, we would have reclaimed what the pirates of Andor forced me to give up,” Rodrigo said coldly, as if the admission were enough to alter Tallis’s decision.
“Well, I’m sorry you got it into your mind to do that. You have to admit that’s rather presumptuous of you, though. I may have promised to show you how I fight, but I said nothing to lead you to believe I would become part of your cohort, or whatever,” Tallis said as diplomatically as she could.
As he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, Tallis hurriedly went on, “I’m really sorry for giving you the wrong idea, Rodrigo. There was never going to be an us, so to speak. And for the record, I hate being on a ship for long periods of time. I’d make a piss-poor pirate.”
Rodrigo only continued to glare at her in silence. He was a man unused to being denied by anyone, let alone a woman. She guessed she was the first in a very long time to ever reject him, and she wasn’t sure if she should be annoyed at his assumptions or pity his inability to cope with being denied the things he wanted. Tallis began debating leaving the speechless pirate where he stood when one of Rodrigo’s many associates scurried over with a parcel from Captain Pol’s ship.
Dragging his eyes from Tallis, Rodrigo flicked open the message and scanned its pages. As his eyes drifted down the sheet, the corners of his mouth began to tug upwards in a smile. Grinning mischievously, he dismissed the young man. “Thank you, Otho, that will be all.
“Don’t worry your lovely head about it a moment longer,” Rodrigo said a heartbeat later with just a hint of his former unconcerned nature. “While I am sorely disappointed in losing your company, I understand your decision. I do hope however, you change your mind before too long, or I fear you may come to regret your choice.”
Tallis cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering what the letter could have said to so drastically alter Rodrigo’s mood. When he did not enlighten her as to its contents she narrowed her eyes, and said continuing on her way, “I have many regrets, Rodrigo. Being with Tomas has, and will never be, one of them.”
Rodrigo’s strange behavior continued to nag at Tallis as she skirted the jagged bluffs that rose above the roaring sea below. She was uncertain what messages Captain Pol could have been delivering for the pirate, or which of the posts from Selkirk Rodrigo thought it necessary to commandeer. But Rodrigo had always been secretive about his business pursuits. By now, she shouldn’t be surprised by his odd and dishonest behaviors. But there was something to the way Rodrigo smiled upon reading that message that left Tallis uneasy.
To distract her mind from the dark thoughts that seemed to hound her like wolves hunting in the dead of night, she opened Rosslyn’s missive. Looking down at the messily scrawled letter, the sharp image of Rosslyn hunched over a desk, her tongue sticking out as she concentrated on the words she was trying to pen, came to Tallis’s mind as she began to read.
Am I supposed to start this with “Dear Tally”? That just feels odd to me.
Well, polite protocol aside, I miss you. Selkirk hasn’t been the same since you’ve been away, as I’m sure you can imagine. The whole country has split into sides over the tremps. The side that believes the story of the demon, and the side that doesn’t care you had nothing to do with the uprising.
The whole country is on the brink of civil war, and as much as I’m loath to admit it, I’m feeling sorry for the tremps. They actually are trying to make amends, but it’s rather hard to apologize when you’ve got a blade sticking out of your belly.
For the most part, they’re just hiding out in the forest, hoping for this mess to blow over. I’m not sure it’s going to, at least not without more help.
I hate to say it, but your pop and that ugly bloke, Henrik, have become bosom buddies as of late when it comes to hunting for you. I’m doing what I can to keep them distracted, but I fear they’ll eventually realize you aren’t in Selkirk anymore.
Thanks to the two of them, there isn’t a man, woman, or child who doesn’t know who you are or what you look like anymore. You were right to leave. It would have been impossible for you to hide here with all the fuss they are making saying you instigated the war and that you’re an agent of the demon.
Most people know it’s preposterous, but they still want someone to blame for their hurt and misfortune. I had hoped your uncle or Donovan’s old lover, Nessa, would have spoken up on your behalf, but they are keeping silent on the topic. Probably still too upset over Donovan’s death, I’d wager….They don’t agree with your pop or Henrik, but they don’t contradict them, either.
But enough about depressing matters. I do have a bit of good news for you. I found my family!
They were in the Doriath Forest just outside of Moray with my brother’s clan. My mum, pop, Loren, and Munro all managed to come out the other side of this nasty business none the worse for wear.
It took me a while to find them, which my pop will never let me live down. He says that had I used any of my Sipsi sense we would have found them first after leaving Perth.
My family sends their regards and their sympathy, by the way. I told them everything that happened and they want me to tell you how sorry they are for your, well, for our loss, really. They didn’t know Donovan well, but they remember how fondly you spoke of him, and they were sad to hear he didn’t make it.
I still have nightmares about that day, you know. I’d give anything to take it back, to make it so Donovan didn’t die. I wish so many things had turned out differently now. If I had known the true gravity of our situation, I would have been kinder. I would have told Donovan I always considered him a friend, despite all our quarrels.
But there I go again, talking all kinds of gloomy nonsense.
Oh! Do you remember that old woman we saved in Dumfry? Athdara, the one that gave you Wodan’s blessing before she fled, remember? Well, I found her on my way to finding my family!
The old lady managed to survive! But not only that, she’s been spreading the good word about what you did to save her when the knights and brothers had abandoned the old folks, and essentially condemned them to death. I can barely understand what she says half the time, but she’s been a blessing in helping clear your name. I’ll be sure to tell her hello on your behalf; the old coot would like that.
Now you be safe and give my regards to our old Ser Soon-To-Be-Brother, though I’m sure that moniker isn’t really accurate anymore. Things must be so wonderfully uncomfortable between the two of you. Both of you are so unskilled when it comes to wooing anyone. Oh, how I wish I could see your awkward fumbling!
Anyway, just tell Tomas I said hello.
I miss you, friend, I hope to see you soon, but until then keep writing! I want to hear all about Theda and the yummy people you’re encountering!
Do I say love here? Or sincerely? Oh well, you know I’m no good at these kinds of things.
Rosslyn.
Tallis chuckled as she tucked the letter into her belt. “Oh, Rozy, what am I going to do with you?”
She stared up into the flawlessly sapphire blue sky for a moment, imagining what Rosslyn would say in response to the letter that spoke of her confusing feelings for Rodrigo. Not that those mattered anymore. She resolved to write another letter to send with Captain Pol detailing the progression of her relationship with Tomas, and her lack of one with Rodrigo. If nothing else, Rosslyn would find it amusing.
Tallis continued through the tall, dry grass surrounding the bluffs, taking respite from the heat with the occasional spray of wayward sea water wafting over her. She allowed the gentle tug of the ancient Vanir to guide her to her destination, like a silk rope tied around her core.
The sensation was better than any map Tallis could have ever hoped for. No matter which way she turned, the gentle tug of power always put her right back on course.
Then, just as the sun had reached its zenith, Tallis saw it. A solitary old olive tree overlooking the ocean far below. It was a short and squat tree, with coarse grayish brown bark that appeared twisted, as if shaped by the unforgiving wind. Its feathery, oblong leaves danced in the wind, dislodging fat, purple olives to the ground at its base.
Even from where she stood, Tallis could feel the ancient wisdom of this sentinel tree. In many ways it reminded her of an old soldier, dispatching harsh wisdom and protecting its charges until the end of its days.
If Tallis closed her eyes it was easy to imagine that such a being had, indeed, been an elf at one point in time. But looking at the twisted little tree, Tallis could see nothing of the elves’ beauty and willowy elegance. Shaking her head, she wasted no more time and climbed the gentle slope up to the lonely olive tree.
Much like the elder yew tree in Selkirk, Tallis didn’t need to place her hands on the scratchy trunk for the tree to seep into her mind. But unlike the trees back in her home, this was no gentle connection, as the abrasive and brusque mannerisms of the tree forced itself upon her.
I was told to expect one such as you. I did not believe my daughter when she said you would come, the tree said in her mind. Its voice, while strong and deep, like a hundred baritones speaking as one, seemed to come from far away, making it take a long time for it to say anything.
“You sound disappointed that I’m here. Most of your kind back in Selkirk were happy to speak with me,” Tallis responded, taken aback by the curt greeting.
I have seen too much to be disappointed anymore. I had only hoped you did not exist. My children in your country were not in possession of their minds when your creation was decided. There were better ways to go about your conception, and the affair surrounding it.
“I don’t understand, better ways to go about what?”
I do not question that your making was a necessity in one form or another. But not having you prior to my sister leaving her Gate behind was a mistake. The rest you must learn from my daughter. That is why you are here, is it not?
“Well, yes, but I had hoped to learn more about what’s going on from you as well. I hoped to take more insight with me before meeting with Ballinel.”
There is an ancient part of your soul, now colored in darkness of your own making, that can be harnessed to help my children. That is the only wisdom I wish to impart. I will speak no more. I do not trust you.
“What have I done to be so mistrusted? I saved your people from their enslavement, and you treat me as if in freeing them I committed the greater sin,” Tallis said, horrified that the tree seemed to be in favor of what the demon had done to the elves in Selkirk.
Perhaps you did. Speak with my daughter. I will show you the way and nothing more, the ancient olive tree said, its voice fading from her mind.
Its deep tones were soon replaced with a flood of images: endless golden grasslands ending abruptly at the banks of a periwinkle blue river that rushed down the slopes of the hillside into the ocean. Just across the wild river and encased in a grove of old myrtle, olive, and chestnut trees, were the stately dwellings of Mazara.
Tallis frowned at the olive tree and defiantly placed her hands on her hips. The tree may have shown her where to go, but not how to cross the river. “That river is far too wide and strong for me to swim. How am I supposed to get there?” Tallis asked, refusing to leave until she had an answer.
Begrudgingly, the Vanir responded, There is a way. But I cannot tell you. It is a trial to test your commitment to hearing out my daughter. She claims you are resourceful, in truth, you must be, given what you were able to accomplish in your far-off land. Now go. The light will begin to fade and you will need it if you do not wish to drown.
Gritting her teeth, Tallis set out in the direction of the river with an itchy feeling in the back of her mind that told her to be wary of the olive tree and Ballinel, in particular.
It seemed so unnecessary to further test Tallis’s resolve to hear out the high priestess, especially when she had made it clear she would like Tallis to be receptive to her proposal. Making her trek more hazardous didn’t sit well with her. Tallis was half-convinced the olive tree merely wanted her to drown and never meet with Ballinel.
Tomas was distracted by everything other than what Fabiana was explaining as they rattled along the road to the Ordine della Macchina.
Tomas worried about Tallis and what she would or would not find from Ballinel and her people. He trusted the pendent he had given her to alert him if anything were amiss, but he couldn’t necessarily trust Tallis would know when to call for aid. Tomas cherished Tallis with every breath in his body, but she still had not learned how and when to ask for help.
“Are you listening to me, Tomas?” Fabiana asked as they stopped in front of her workshop door.
The student offices were propped in front of the main factory, making the building bulge like a bloated white whale. Even the dignified and majestic fir trees that lined the buildings were dwarfed by the sheer size of the marble factories.
While the students’ rooms were larger than most of the study rooms in Kincardine’s old monastery, there was no mistaking where all the real work was conducted in Theda, and that was from the behemoth that was the proper Ordine della Macchina structure.
The Ordine della Macchina was nestled in the gentle crook of a river bend that awarded it ample access to furiously churning, sage green water. The roiling, murky water made a loud whooshing sound as it crashed and rolled over unseen rocks, drowning out the loud buzz of electricity, and the clanging of brass and copper tools constantly ebbing from the buildings.
The sheer force of the angry river helped power some of the larger machines and devices hidden within the colossal factories. They were large and noisy machines, meant to assemble parts of large farm equipment as well as the secret and fragile generators that served as the conductor that powered the numerous coiled towers throughout the country.
There were other devices housed within the tightly-guarded building that not even Fabiana knew about with any level of certainty. All she knew was that only the masters of her order were permitted to go inside.
Focusing his eyes back on Fabiana and forcing himself to pay attention, Tomas quickly racked his brain to catch up on what she had been talking about as they entered her personal workshop. Fabiana had been commenting on the importance of properly maintaining the coiled towers that stood like foreboding sentinels over the building when Tomas began daydreaming.
Fabiana had been explaining that if they were not adjusted and operated on with the utmost care in order to maintain their efficiency and energy output, then the maximum voltage point could occur below its mandated threshold. Should that happen, the towers could spark; if the worst occurred, the surge could even destroy the nearby buildings.
Smiling broadly, Tomas responded as if he had been enraptured by every word, lest he hurt her feelings. “Of course. I can see why maintaining the towers would be a constant job. Destroyed buildings are generally a bad thing.”
Eager to distract her from his lapse in attention, Tomas decided to show Fabiana how he was leveraging Theda’s electrical currents in his own creations. He hoped to win her praise and temper her suspicious gaze.
Opening the door for her, Tomas said shyly, “Um, did I tell you I managed to fashion a…a location tracking device?”
“Truly? How did you accomplish that? May I see this homing device of yours? I’d very much like to examine it,” Fabiana said, gripping his hand in her excitement to see his device.
He noted the rough callouses on her hands from healed electrical burns. Her hands felt a little like Tallis’s, rough and unafraid of hard work. They were not the hands of a lady, but he found he liked the rough texture; it meant these hands were capable.
Momentarily lost in his own thoughts, he failed to notice Fabiana’s hand was still in his, and he couldn’t help but blush. He wasn’t sure if it would be rude to drop her hand now or not, especially since she seemed to be in no hurry to relinquish his grip.
Ignoring it for the moment, Tomas pressed on, “Ah, well, no…I can’t show you the whole device, unfortunately. I gave the other half to Tally. But I can show you my half of the tracker, if you’d like.” Tomas gently released Fabiana’s hand to take off his cufflinks.
Fabiana’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced contemptuously at the cufflinks. Flicking her attention away like a whip on a horse’s backside, she said, “I think the device would have been a bit more useful if you hadn’t turned it into a trinket. Really, Tomas, you should be looking at these inventions of yours on a much larger scale. You’ll never hope to improve if you do not.”
Tomas gently closed his hand over the intricate cufflinks, his shoulders stiffening at her dismissal. He had expected Fabiana to be a little more impressed with what he’d accomplished in the span of a few days. But it was beginning to seem as if nothing he did was inherently good enough or met Fabiana’s exacting standards. Her opinions mattered to him as one intellectual to another, but he was starting to lose his exhaustive patience at having his contraptions so lowly regarded.
