A Clockwork Fairytale (13 page)

She nodded vigorously. “You bet right.”

With a boyish grin, he raised a fist in triumph then surprised her by pivoting around on one leg to kick the tower door closed. Her heart did a little flip to see him enjoying himself. She wished he would relax more often so they could have fun together. “You look like you’re skylarking,” she said.

“We’re on a roof where nobody can see me, so skylarking is allowed.” He led her along a winding path between luxuriant green bushes. While he’d been away, his hair had grown. The secret curl on the back of his neck had gotten bigger and been joined by other black waves that begged to be twisted around her fingers. She longed to touch him so much the need was almost a physical pain.

He ducked beneath overhanging shrubs into a hidden leafy nook. Inside was an ornate metal bench decorated with curlicues. She’d discovered this secret corner of the garden when she was hiding from Gwinnie and Madam Quatro while Turk was away. A pink rambling rose covered the wooden trellis behind the seat. When they sat down side by side, the fragrant blooms hung around them.

“Do we have to cut the flowers off the bush first?” Melba asked.

“You can raise Jinns from cut flowers, but they only survive for a few days. If you raise the Earth Star from a live flower, it lasts longer but it still returns to the Earth eventually.” He cupped his hand beneath a huge pink bloom and his gaze stretched into the distance. “If you concentrate, you can hear them singing.”

“The roses chatter to me all the time. So do the other flowers in the garden. I don’t need to touch ’em.” The cheerful roses had kept her spirits up during the miserable two weeks Turk was away.

“I guessed you had an affinity with flowers. People with magical power tend to have a favorite type of Jinn.”

Melba’s heart leaped around like a mouse in a flour barrel. “I have magical power?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have accepted your pledge otherwise.”

“Is that why you touched me hand before you gave me the starlight stone?”

He nodded and Melba remembered the confused, hazy feeling when he’d first touched her. “What did you do to me when you touched me?”

He inhaled slowly and stared at the ground as if weighing up what to say. “I have the ability to read some people’s minds when I touch them.”

“Sweet Earth Jinn!” Melba drew back from him, worried that if she sat too close he might sense she wanted to play with his hair. “What did you see in my mind when you touched me?”

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Nothing! You have natural defenses.”

“Thank the Great Earth Jinn. Don’t you go looking in me head again without permission.”

He laughed again, but this time it had a melancholy ring that cast a chill across her skin. “Don’t worry. Your time here with me is nearly over.”

A tense little knot of panic tightened around her heart at the thought of leaving Turk’s palace. Once he set her to work, she might not see him very often. “Where will you send me to spy?”

Turning to her, he gave a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll talk about that later, I promise. First let’s raise a Flower Jinn.”

As soon as she thought of the roses, their twittering voices filled her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and brushed the silky petals of a bloom against her cheek, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance.

She looked up to find him watching her. His gaze slid away and he cleared his throat and rummaged through his jacket pockets. He pulled out a pink silk scarf, flapped it, and draped the filmy fabric across his thighs. “You can draw Jinns from any flower, but some are easier to work with than others. Some offer up their spirits with barely a nudge, while others require so much effort it’s not worth it. Roses are eager to please, gentle, and kind; ideal to learn with.”

He made a loose fist around the top of the scarf and pulled it through his fingers. “To draw a Jinn from a rose you must have a delicate but sure touch. I was taught that it’s the equivalent of sliding a silk scarf through your hand, only inside your head. Have a go.” He held out the scarf.

Melba copied what he’d done, sliding the scarf between her curled fingers. She lowered her eyelids and released her breath slowly as the silk slid across her skin. “Oh, this feels lovely and tickly.”

“Right,” Turk said gruffly. “That’s enough of that.” He grabbed the scarf from her and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Before we start, you need to decide what form you’d like your Jinn to take. May I suggest a butterfly?”

“Do you mean a flutterby?”

He frowned at her.

“You know, the little flying creatures with colored wings that blow over from the mainland at the end of the summer,” she explained.

“They’re called butterflies, Melba.”

“Master Maddox said they was flutterbys because they never stay, they flutter by.”

Turk laughed and this time his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners. “It sounds as though your Master Maddox dispensed pearls of wisdom,” he said. Then his smile transformed into a frown.

“What’s the matter?” she asked confused by his changeable mood.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you that Master Maddox was taken ill. He’s being treated by the Shining Brotherhood.”

Tears tightened Melba’s throat and she wished she didn’t care what happened to old Maddox, but she did. “What’s the matter with him? What’s happened to his other lads?”

He trained his gaze on her and pressed his lips together tightly before he said, “He’s getting the best care possible, Melba. And his pledges are being taken care of.”

“I want to go and see him.”

“He’s in the infirmary attached to the chapel of the Great Earth Jinn. Only men are allowed to visit as it’s inside the Monastery grounds.”

“Stupid Shining Brotherhood,” she muttered. “Monks are unnatural. Do they think all girls have got scab or something?”

“If you’re worried about him, I’ll check on him,” he said briskly. “Now let’s get on with raising this Flower Jinn or we’ll be up here all day and I’ve got work to do.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, wondering why he’d suddenly got cross.

“Cup your hand beneath one of the flowers,” Turk told her. She chose a huge floppy bloom with pearly pink petals and tiny black and gold bits in the middle, and curled her hand underneath it. Turk cupped his hand around hers so they held the flower together. Her eyes opened wider with surprise. The chatter of the roses faded from her mind and every scrap of her attention focused on the firm warmth of Turk’s palm cradling the back of her hand.

“Are you concentrating?” he asked.

“Aye.”
But not on the rose
… She inhaled the rose fragrance and managed to hear the flower twittering inside her head like a tiny bird.

“While we draw the Jinn from the flower, we must keep the butterfly shape in mind. The easiest way for me to show you is if you watch me inside your head. I won’t be looking at your thoughts or memories, Melba. All you need to do is let me join with you so you can watch the mental process.”

She didn’t like the idea of any mental joining, but she really wanted to learn how to raise a Flower Jinn. “I suppose,” she said reluctantly.

“Just close your eyes, relax, and concentrate on the rose,” Turk instructed.

She did as he bid and a pleasant hazy sensation crept into her mind like warm mist rolling through her. “
Focus, Melba
,” Turk said inside her head and her breath jabbed with surprise. Gradually the tension eased from her body and the shining Star inside the rose glowed clearly in her mind’s eye. She sensed Turk pull on the Star and it stretched, sliding through her awareness like the silk scarf stroking her fingers. The Star flexed and folded itself into a flutterby’s shape, taking on a deep pink tinge. She smiled and imagined silver gliss sprinkled across the pink wings.

“Open your eyes, Melba,” Turk whispered. A transparent pink butterfly emerged from the rose in her hand and fluttered into the air, silver glitter trailing in its wake.

Melba gave a delighted squeak. How had she lived for seventeen years without knowing she could make magical creatures from flowers?

“Great Earth Jinn,” Turk whispered. “You certainly have an affinity for Flower Jinns. I’ve never seen one scatter sparkling dust before.” He removed his hand from hers. “Let go of the rose and hold your palm flat.”

When she did, the Flower Jinn circled and landed on her hand. Its bright friendly energy tingled up her arm to ring in her mind like the sound of tiny bells. “It likes being free,” she whispered, wary of scaring it.

“Some Jinns do, some don’t.”

She could hardly drag her eyes away from the magical creation, but she glanced at Turk to see his reaction to the Flower Jinn they’d raised. Her gaze collided with the intense dark depths of his eyes and a strange tension hummed between them. “I shall miss you when you leave, my little Star,” he whispered.

“Can’t I stay here with you and just go out to spy during the day?”

He blinked and turned away, breaking the spell. “Ahh, Melba, if only it were that simple.” He passed a hand over his face. When he raised his eyes again, he looked tired. “Practice summoning Flower Jinns. It’s only a simple procedure, but if you ever need to protect yourself, remember lots of tiny Jinns can work together against a more powerful Jinn. Try a few other types of flower to experience the different personalities of their Jinns.”

“What do I do with them once I’ve raised them?”

“Look after them, of course.” He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her forehead. Melba’s heart nearly stopped beating as his fingers brushed her skin. “They’ll follow you around for a week,” he said. “Then they’ll fade.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, her whole mind focused on the tingly patch of skin he’d touched.

He rose slowly and looked up at the sky as if searching for inspiration. “There’s something I need to do this afternoon, but I’ll be back later to discuss your future.”

“You promise you’ll come back?” she asked, remembering how last time he’d gone out he’d stayed away for two weeks.

“I promise,” he said. “You’re nearly ready to leave me to start your new life. I don’t want to miss your last few days here.”

He gave a small smile and walked away between the bushes, leaving Melba staring after him with so many conflicting emotions chasing around inside her she didn’t know what to think.

***

Turk sat at his desk, pen in hand, and stared at a blank sheet of best quality vellum. When he had taken on the task of transforming Melba, he’d imagined it would give him satisfaction to return her safely to the king. Now the time had come, he could hardly bring himself to compose the note requesting a royal audience. He knew Melba belonged in the Royal Palace with her father. She would enjoy everything a young lady could dream of and more, and Gregorio would be happy to see the rightful heir restored to foil Vittorio.

But the gossipy backbiting nobles at Court would laugh at Melba and hurt her feelings. She would be alone in the unfamiliar society without a friend to turn to. The thought seared through him, roused his anger, made him want to protect her. Turk closed his eyes and faced the bitter truth that it had been
he
who trimmed the sails to the wind on this journey and he could not alter the destination now. Whether he liked it or not, the princess must be returned to the Palace.

With a sigh, he wrote the brief missive requesting an audience with HRH King Santo Ferilli on a matter of great importance, placed the letter in an envelope, and sealed it with the mark of the noble who used to own Waterberry House.

He tapped the letter against the blotter. The situation with Melba had stirred up unfamiliar emotions that had disrupted his work, caused a breach with his master, and distracted him from his mission to build a refuge for the trash tykes. He needed a reminder of normal life to get his feet back on the ground. He also needed to keep on good terms with Dante, the Trash King. He hadn’t helped Steptoe deliver food to the trash barges since Melba arrived, and it was about time he resumed the habit.

Turk grabbed the letter and went to the kitchen. “Where’s the lad Steptoe sent across to run my message?” he asked Gwinnie.

She had her sleeves rolled up, exposing meaty arms coated in flour. “This ain’t a doss house for ragamuffins. He’s out back on the steps.”

Turk found the lad gobbling down a bowl of ice cream and he smiled. Gwinnie kept her soft side well hidden, but occasionally she slipped up and did something nice. Turk passed over the letter and gave strict instructions that it must only be delivered to the king’s personal secretary and not given to the bluejackets who provided security at the Royal Palace. He didn’t want it falling into Vittorio’s hands.

He resisted the temptation to go back to the roof garden to see how Melba was getting on. Just like the Flower Jinns, he had found her Star and transformed her into something beautiful. Now it was time to let her spread her wings and experiment with her magic alone.

Chapter Ten

There is a Star that lives in your heart.

—Master Turk

Turk donned a scruffy bluejacket’s uniform. It was the perfect disguise because sailors of the Royal Fleet moved freely through all four circles and could wear a sword openly. It added an extra dash of irony that they were hunting him. He ruffled his neat hair and pulled the cap on crookedly before going down to the kitchen.