The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom (13 page)

“Just a companion,”
Kostya
said,
shrugging.

Nora didn’t believe him.
Kostya
had put too much work into this thing for it to be just a toy. She also
wondered about the fat black stinger pointing from its rear.

“I must go now,”
Kostya
said,
interrupting Nora’s study. Only then did Nora notice that the bag of the dwarf’s
belongings—his tools, spare parts, and the clothes Nora and Dale had
given him—lay at his feet. “I have imposed on your hospitality for too
long.”

Nora knew that she should make polite noises and tell
Kostya
no, not at all, but she couldn’t. “Where will you
go?” Nora asked instead.

“To the tunnels far to the north,” the dwarf told her. “The
fairies still seek me for their mistaken revenge. It’s better I leave for now.”

“Mr. Patterson, our landlord, is going to put cold iron and
magnets above every window,” Nora blurted out.

Kostya
grew still for a moment, then
he nodded. “Good. That’s good. That will protect you from the fairies.” He
paused, then added, “It was a delight to meet you, my dear. And perhaps to set
your feet down the right path.”

“Yes,” Nora told him woodenly. “A pleasure.”

Immediately after
Kostya
left,
Nora closed and locked the window, then removed the books he’d set up as steps.
She went back to the kitchen, gathered up all the magnets from the front of the
refrigerator, and placed them on the sills of her windows. Maybe they’d help,
or maybe Mr. Patterson was crazy and
Kostya
still
lied. Still, they made her feel better.

***

Nora looked with worry from her mom to her brother and back.
They sat together, silently at the dining room table. Dale shoveled food into
his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in a week. He was even eating the
brussels
sprouts without complaint. He’d been unnaturally
pale when he’d gotten home from the fairy kingdom, swaying on his feet.

Mom was also pale and quiet. She’d complained of sleeping
badly—some kind of nightmare. Nora was pretty sure it was more than just
that. Mom shouldn’t have felt sick all day from a nightmare. More than once,
Nora had caught her massaging her left hand. She suspected something had gone
wrong with her mom’s pacemaker, but that felt too big to say out loud. Mom just
picked at her food.

Nora felt like kicking Dale. He was supposed to notice these
things, to worry about Mom and Nora. That was his job, not hers.

Dale escaped directly to his room after dinner, even though
it was still his turn to do the dishes. Mom went to lie down again. Nora did
the dishes, figuring it was the path of least resistance. She didn’t want to
yell at Dale to get him to do them, and she knew Mom didn’t have the strength
to make him do them.

Nora’s anger built as she washed and dried. The fairies hadn’t
fed Dale or taken care of him. They’d just drained him.
Kostya
was no better, she was willing to admit. He’d wanted something. Now that he had
whatever it was, he’d taken off. He hadn’t been there to help them.

When Nora finished the last dish, she marched into Dale’s
room without knocking. He looked up guiltily from where he sat on the floor,
the fairy machinery spread out before him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Nora accused.

“What are you talking about?” Dale asked, looking back down
at the work before him.

“Didn’t you see Mom tonight?”

“She’s fine,” Dale said with an exasperated sigh.

“No, she’s not. She’s been pale all day, and hasn’t had any
energy. I think something’s wrong with her heart.”

Dale looked guilty for a moment, then his mouth thinned into
a straight line. “She’s fine. Isn’t that what you always tell me? She’s just
got a cold or something.”

Nora crossed her arms over her chest to hold in the hurt. “Something’s
wrong with you, too.”

“Maybe there’s just something wrong with you,” Dale said. “All
your specialness drained away. Merely ordinary.”

Bewildered, Nora asked, “What are you talking about? You’re
the one who’s special. You remind Mom of Grandpa Lewis. You can put anything
together, figure out any problem. I’m not the special one. You are.”

“You’re right. I am,” Dale declared. “Now I have some
special
work to do.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Nora asked. “You’re an idiot
sometimes, but not this bad. You care about Mom. But now, all you care about is
your stupid machine.”

“That’s all I’ve ever cared about, Nora.”

“No,” Nora denied, shaking her head. “You’re seriously
demented if you think that. You care about us. About Mom and me. You’re not
just a tinker. It’s the fairies.”

“The fairies understand me better than you ever will,” Dale
hissed. “They’re ordered. And clean. And perfect.”

Understanding froze Nora in place. She knew now why Dale
couldn’t talk about the kingdom before. “Magic,” she whispered. “They’ve put
magic on you.”

Dale looked uncomfortable and wouldn’t meet Nora’s eye. “Get
out.”

Nora unfroze enough to walk to the door. Before she left,
she looked over her shoulder and said, “I will free you from them, Dale. I
promise.”

***

Adele performed her illusions as she walked down the spiral staircase
to the workroom. She hid her warrior teeth, softened her features, and grew a
few inches taller, so she would look as beautiful as Dale remembered her. She
threw open the big double doors with magic, not bothering to touch them, and
then swept into the room.

No gushing human greeted her. Only Cornelius stood there. He
didn’t turn to say hello. His eyes remained riveted to the great machine. The
smell of burnt wire still hung in the air.

“Where’s the Tinker?” Adele demanded.

“I sent him home,” Cornelius said.

“Why?” Adele fumed. He had no right. She needed to make sure
the human was still properly enthralled.

Cornelius turned from the machine. “You were right. He’s
smart. Really smart. I think he’s figured out the true purpose of your machine.”

Adele grew very still. Did Cornelius know? Would he join
her?

“It’s a clever design,” Cornelius said, returning his gaze
to the machine. “Unless you know what you’re looking for, the extra power
reserves appear to be a backup system.”

“And?” Adele asked, drawing closer to Cornelius. Fear made
her wings unfold slightly.

“It isn’t a barrier. Or merely a barrier. Is it?” Cornelius
turned his disapproving glare on Adele. “It will kill all the humans.”

Adele laughed with relief. “No, it won’t. It isn’t a killing
machine.”

Cornelius looked puzzled. “It will disrupt their magnetic
fields.”

“True. However, it won’t kill them. Just keep them away.”

Cornelius gazed over Adele’s shoulder for a moment. “I see,”
he said quietly. “It will kill their machines, won’t it?”

“Yes.” Adele waited while Cornelius continued to think.

“Why?”

“To drive them away,” Adele admitted.

“So we can take over, go back up into the skies, yes?”

Adele nodded. “Exactly!” She moved closer to Cornelius,
speaking more quietly. “The fairies from the southern kingdom would join us.”

Cornelius grew still, then looked back at the machine. “You
were born in the country, weren’t you?” he asked, as if speaking to himself.

Adele bristled. “Of course I was. I’ve never denied it.”

“You spent your life outside. Whereas I grew up in old
London,” Cornelius replied. “Underground all my life. Most of the court came
from there as well. Coming to the New World was terrifying. Thrilling, too.
However, now, these old bones are happy for their home. Why do you think the
royals rarely go out on raids with the warriors? They’re uncomfortable with all
that sky.”

Adele backed away, shocked. She’d believed Cornelius, of all
the royals, would understand. She remembered how the royals had flown during
their march across the New World. They’d fly again, and love it. She was
certain.

“I won’t speak of your plans, my queen,” Cornelius told her,
bowing formally. “However, I must ask you not to include me in them anymore.
Now I must beg my leave of you.”

Adele debated briefly about not granting it. How could she
do this without him, her best friend, at her side? Instead, she replied, “You
may go.”

“Good night, my queen,” Cornelius replied formally, bowing
again before leaving.

Adele waited until he’d reached the staircase before she
slammed the doors shut. How dare he deny her? How could he not share her dream?
Adele looked up at the grand machinery again, telling herself that it didn’t
matter. Though only the warriors ever ventured under the open sky, she knew
that given a chance, the rest of her people would remember their wings. The
fairies from the southern kingdom did. They would stand behind her. The royals
just didn’t know what they really wanted.

The machine was close to finished. She could tell that,
flying around it. The human Tinker was a marvel. But what was she going to do
about Cornelius? How long before he talked with the others in the court? Or
before he tried to free Dale?

Maybe there was another project Adele could direct Cornelius
to, something of importance that would leave Dale free to work under her sole
control. Because if she couldn’t distract Cornelius, she would have to
eliminate him. Maybe he would have an accident in his workshop. Accidents
happened all the time.

***

Dale dismissed Nora’s fears, turning the smooth amethyst
stone over and over in his fingers. Maybe he could never talk about Queen
Adele, the kingdom, or even the machine. He was still himself. Only improved.
He understood machines so much better now. Better than Grandpa Lewis or
Cornelius or even the queen.

Still, Dale needed to check one last thing. He reached for two
magnets from his desk. An unexpected shock jarred him, pricking the hand in his
pocket. The stone from the queen didn’t like the magnets. He remembered Mr.
Patterson, their landlord, “protecting” the house with cold iron and magnets.

Maybe their landlord wasn’t crazy. Maybe he knew about
fairies.

Dale put the magnets on one side of the machine. He forced
himself to take the amethyst out of his pocket and put it on the far side. He’d
suspected that the grand machine in the fairy kingdom had something to do with
electronics, though the fairies didn’t use any of that kind of technology.

First, Dale jimmied the gears to start the machine. Then he
brought the magnets closer.

Nothing—no reaction.

Dale put the fairy stone into the machine’s funnel opening.
After two seconds, the magnets flew off the plastic and struck the door with
force. Dale quickly removed the fairy stone, but not fast enough. All the
lights in the house went out again.

Thaddeus’ machine wasn’t just a barrier to drive away
humans. It killed all electronics, like an electronic pulse machine. However,
it was a thousand times stronger, because it killed all machines, big and small
alike. Given the size of the Thaddeus’ clockwork mechanism, it would blanket
all of Oregon, much of Washington, as well as northern California.

Queen Adele knew the true purpose of the machine. Cornelius
hadn’t, until Dale had traced all the wiring for him—did he now?

Dale fingered the amethyst stone. Once the machine started,
all the humans would leave, including his sister and his mom. Only Dale would
stay behind. He’d be alone with the perfection of the fairy kingdom. Needed.
Wanted. Loved.

***

Kostya
positioned himself
carefully in the tall grass just as the morning light struck the horizon,
lightening the clouds there. Dew hung heavily from the stems and leaves. Angry
gulls cried from the water, their nests regularly raided by fairies.

The Tinker didn’t even look up as he passed.
Kostya
could have shouted and the boy wouldn’t have heard.
He was too driven to return to the fairies, too enthralled to notice anything
but his goal.
Kostya
was glad he’d speeded up his
plans. Given the lurching gait of the boy, he didn’t know if Dale would ever
return to the surface again.

Kostya
muttered a command and the
little
ohotnik
gamely leaped off the tall grass and onto Dale’s backpack. It quickly scurried
under a fold, hiding out of sight. The boy hadn’t noticed. He’d carry it deep
into the fairy kingdom, directly to their great machine.

Tiny jewels like eggs filled the
ohotnik’s
belly. Its nature was
to seek oiled spots and to deposit one of the jewels in each. When the fairies
started the machine, the little “eggs” would hatch, sucking the power into each
of themselves, then exploding it outward. If
Kostya
understood the working of the fairy machines correctly, the power would build
until it grew overwhelming. The explosion would destroy the entire kingdom.

Kostya
would have his revenge.

“Excuse me,” Chris said to the cute blond librarian. “I need
my printouts.”

The young woman rose from her desk and went to the printer. “What
did you print?”

“Pictures of my family. We’re on vacation,” Chris smoothly
lied.

The woman looked through the pages, finally pulling out
three. “These?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Chris said, reaching for them.

“That will be one dollar, forty cents, please.”

“What?” Chris asked, pretending outrage, even though he’d
had to click through three acceptance forms when he sent the pictures to the
color printer.

The woman sighed as if she’d heard it all a thousand times
before. “If you want to use the black-and-white printer, it’s free. The color
printer costs thirty-five cents a page.”

“Come on, we’re on vacation. Can’t you cut me a break?”

The woman stared at him. Her glasses made her eyes look bugged
out. “One forty, please.”

“Fine. But what is this great country of ours coming to when
the services in a library aren’t free?” Chris asked with an exaggerated sigh.

The woman didn’t deign to answer him, just handed him his
change.

Printouts in hand, Chris sat back down at the computer
terminal closest to the window, which had the best light. He pored over the
printed photos, searching, even bringing the picture closer to his eyes,
wishing again for some kind of magnifying glass. He’d used the free software on
the library computer to blow the shot up as much as he could.

There. Right there. The curve of Dale’s head was wrong. It
didn’t flow smoothly from his neck. While the twin’s faces were clear, Denise’s
was blurred, as if she sat in different light. These pictures had been
Photoshopped
. Denise and the kids weren’t here, in this
bigger town. They were still in the other town. Robert had been clever, too
clever, getting Chris out of town.

Chris thought for a moment. He’d already paid for his hotel
room. No sense in wasting good money. He’d leave in the morning. Then he’d
drive down every street, ask every grocery store clerk, check every hospital…

Wait. Chris cursed himself. Of course, he just had to check
the hospitals. Denise had that heart condition, and she was too responsible not
to keep regular appointments.

Chris turned back to the computer, searching for
cardiologists in the town where Denise lived. The one with the foreign-sounding
name—Doctor Jan—worked out of a hospital. That was who Chris needed
to see.

***

“Come on, come on!” Robert yelled with the rest of the men
in the back room of the betting parlor. The TV that filled the wall showed the
outfielder racing for the baseball.

“Your phone’s beeping.”

Robert groaned with everyone else in the room when the
player caught it.

“Hey—your phone’s beeping.”

“What? Oh.” Robert finally noticed the distinctive warning
beep. “Thanks,” he told the guy standing next to him. Robert groaned again when
he saw that Chris was on his way back into town. He looked at the chits in his
hand, quickly counting his bets. He barely had enough money to cover them.
Maybe he could place just one more, then he’d be set. No, he couldn’t do that.
He had to go see Chris.

Robert backed away from the other men and turned toward the
door. Two bouncers stood there. “You through for the day?” asked the one on the
left. He had a military-style haircut and wore a navy-blue polo shirt.

“Got a friend coming into town,” Robert told him.

The other pulled out his phone and looked at a list. “You
sure you’re going now? You have a bit of a bill.” He nodded his bald head.

“This friend owes me money,” Robert said, sweating already
but trying to play it cool. “I can pay you once he pays me.”

“You know we don’t take IOUs,” the bald one on the right
said.

“Look, look, I’m good for it, okay?” Robert told them. “See,
wait, see.” He pulled out the bad check Chris had given him. “He owes me twice
that.”

“This could cover your bill,” the haircut said.

“No,” Robert said, shaking his head vehemently. “It’s bad.”

The pair of them looked at him curiously.

“I’d never knowingly pass bad paper,” Robert told them,
drawing himself up. “That’s just stupid.” He had his standards.

They two bouncers looked at each other. “You know, for a
fee, we could probably get this money for you,” the bald one said, nodding
slowly.

“Why don’t you take us to this friend of yours who just came
into town, all right?”

***

Nora woke to cool blue skies and a huge determination: to
free her brother from the fairies. She was a Maker and she was going to
make
something happen. It didn’t matter
if magic made her uncomfortable. He was her brother, her family, and she wasn’t
going to have it broken further apart.

Dale, of course, was already gone. He’d taken Grandpa Lewis’
toolkit with him, as well as the fairy machine. Nora knew he wasn’t coming
home, not on his own. She’d just have to go get him.

The door to Mom’s bedroom was still closed. Nora didn’t want
to disturb her; she’d been so tired all day the day before.

Nora went into her mom’s office and turned on her computer.
She wasn’t supposed to use the Internet without permission, but she felt
justified. Dale was in trouble. She knew most of what she’d read would be
wrong—fairies weren’t cute, small, or likely to grant wishes.
Mischievous? Possibly. Bloodthirsty? Nora remembered the warriors and their
sharp teeth. Definitely.

After about an hour, Nora didn’t have a plan, but she had a
few ideas. She had to finish one or more versions of her bracelet. Fairies were
masters at illusions and she needed every trick available to her. She was close
to completing one, particularly because
Kostya
was no
longer distracting her.

Mom still wasn’t awake. Nora wondered if maybe Dale was right
and she was just sick. Nora went into the kitchen and fixed coffee for her, as
well as some toast. Then she knocked softly on her door. “Mom?”

The sound of rustling came through the door, followed by a
soft moan.

“Mom?” Nora burst through the door.

Her mom lay on the floor, tangled in sheets. Nora put down
the tray she held and ran to her. “Mom? Are you okay?” Tears streamed down Nora’s
face. “Please, you have to be okay. You can’t die. Please.”

Mom’s eyes fluttered open. She took a deep, raspy breath. “911,”
she said. “My heart.”

Nora looked around the room. She didn’t see a phone. “I’ll
be right back. I promise.” She raced to her own room for her cell phone.

“My mom’s had a heart attack. You need to get here. Now.”
Nora rattled off the address. “Yes, she’s had problems with her heart before.
She has a pacemaker.” Nora gathered supplies, throwing them into a bag as she
talked. “Please, hurry.” She ran back to her mom’s room, dropping down next to
her and taking her hand.

“Where’s Dale?”

“Gone,” Nora said bitterly. “Don’t you worry. I’ll find him.
I’ll get him back.”

Sirens sounded in the distance. Nora went outside to direct
them. She tried Dale’s cell phone—it went straight to voicemail, as she’d
expected. She’d just have to rescue Dale later. She refused to lose any more
members of her family.

***

The screaming sirens repelled Adele, forcing her up and away
from the Tinker’s house. She stayed hidden from sight against the gray
clouds—not that anyone looked up. After the loud boxy vehicles had gone,
Adele dropped back down and quietly approached the house. Her steps grew
slower, sluggish. Magnets and cold iron hung from the corners of the roof. One
of the old-timers who knew about fairies must have lived here before the Tinker
and his family.

Adele stared at the house, fuming, searching for an obvious
entrance, like an open window, that would have allowed her to fly in without
touching the ground or the house. Once inside, she wouldn’t be able to stay
long; the electronics would drive her mad. Quiet descended on the house. It
took Adele another turn around the building before she realized the house was
too still. The loud boxes had taken away both the mother and the Maker.

Cursing, Adele took to the air, spreading her powerful
wings. The cars traveled much faster than she could, so she followed the noise,
the vibrations of the screams.

By noon, Adele determined the place the boxy vehicles had
gone: a large, gray stone building with many yellow windows. The smell of blood
and sickness drifted from it. Had the Maker gotten sick? Or her mother? The
Tinker didn’t know, she was certain.

Adele set a magic watcher on the door in the back, tuned to
the Tinker and those related to him, then waited next to a small fountain in
the front. Either the Maker or the mother would come out. Adele would be ready
either way.

***

Chris returned to town still singing along with the radio.
Today, he would find where that bitch of a wife had hidden his boy and he would
steal him back. They’d leave the coast and drive across the country together.
Maybe take a look at the Grand Canyon, daring each other to throw rocks over
the edge. Maybe they’d go see those old presidents carved into the side of a
mountain, and take pictures of each other pretending to pick those statues’
noses. Then they’d settle down somewhere wholesome in the Midwest, away from
the coast and the types of people who lived there.

Chris didn’t know what he was going to do to Robert. His
dreams of revenge tasted sweet, but vanished quickly in the light. Maybe Chris
would just run into him. He planned on going to some of the fast food
restaurants downtown, since that was where Robert had called him from. If Chris
found him, he had a ready lie and a more ready fist.

The hospital didn’t impress Chris. Obviously built in the
1950s and remodeled. The first floor was original; the upper stories weren’t.
It probably was the best in the area, however. He drove past the entrance to
the parking lot as he studied the area. Cursing, he turned the corner,
intending to drive around the block again, when dark hair caught his eye.

Nora.

Where was Denise? Why was Nora here, coming out of a flower
shop, alone? Was Dale hurt?

Maybe Chris’ mama had been right. Denise’s heart was weak.
Had it finally gone out? Had Chris’ luck finally changed? If Denise was sick,
she couldn’t stop him from taking the kids.

Humming, Chris finished going around the complex and pulled
into the parking lot. Of course, someone had their hand out, looking for him to
pay. It was just one more thing that had gone wrong in America. He should be
able to park where he pleased and for free. He sullenly handed over the money,
buying only an hour of time. Dale had probably stayed with Denise—he was
a good boy like that, looking after his mom.

However, Denise would have to get better without Dale. Chris
was here to rescue him.

***

Nora waited in the hospital room while Mom was in surgery. White
daisies listed to one side of the soda can Nora used for a vase. She’d taken a
couple of the flowers out and put them on the window sills. She’s asked for the
other bed for her mom, the one away from the windows, but this was the one they’d
put her mom in. The plastic of the chair stuck to Nora’s legs and the stink of
medicine clung to her. White and gray made up the entire room—the floor,
the walls, and the chair. The only color was Nora herself. She felt herself
fading.

A tall, red-faced woman doctor had talked with Nora for a
while. She’d remembered to bring her mom’s wallet, and had answered the
paramedics’ questions as well as she could. They didn’t know for certain what
had happened, but the doctor assumed that the battery was bad in her pacemaker.
It had lost all its power too early.

Nora knew what had happened. The fairy machine, the one Dale
had brought into the house, had shut down the electricity and hurt their mom.
Nora was going to kill Dale once she got him away from the fairies.

Stubbornly, Nora pulled out one of the knot-work bracelets
she’d been working on. It wasn’t the one
Kostya
had
shown her, but her own design. She needed to finish at least one of the
bracelets before she faced the fairies. Nothing in the room inspired her. The
bleakness made her shiver. Determined, she pulled out the brightest pink thread
she had. She tied in the new color and started the finishing knots, turning the
eye knots inward as well as outward.
Kostya
had
insisted they all went one direction; however, that didn’t feel right to Nora.
Very few patterns called only for purl and no knit stitches.

“There’s my girl, always making something.”

Nora looked up at the familiar voice. “Daddy!” she cried.
She threw her
knotwork
down and ran to him. He leaned
over and gave her a big hug. “Where’s Dale?” he asked.

“He’s—he’s at a friend’s house,” Nora told him, hurt
he hadn’t asked about her, or Mom. Then she saw the doctor standing in the
doorway.

“This is your father?” the doctor asked. She held her square
jaw firmly in disapproval.

“Yes!” Nora declared, swinging his hand. “It’s my dad.”

“I see,” the doctor said, looking from Nora to her father. “I
thought you were divorced, and your wife’s been living here alone.”

“No, no, I was just on an extended business trip. Right,
darling?” Dad squeezed Nora’s hand.

Nora knew enough to play along if she wanted to get her
family back together. “He’s been out of town,” Nora said, nodding. “But he’s
back now.”

“I see,” the doctor said again. “Where’s your brother?”

“He staying at a friend’s house,” Nora explained breezily.

“We were just going to fetch him,” Dad said.

Nora opened her mouth, then shut it again. How could she
explain Dale, the fairies, and
Kostya
? Maybe Dad
would let her go get Dale on her own.