Tinkermage (Book 2) (4 page)

She peered around, searching for whoever Jancy brought her to meet. Light dawning from outside squeezed through the cracks in curls of dull gray, though the world outside seemed suddenly far away at that moment. Other than old granite and a boulder or two that stood out brown against its brethren, the interior was all a bit plain.

“This is a pleasant hideaway, I suppose. Should we have brought some dolls or a set of neplers? Or might we play hide and find?”

One of the brown rocks uncoiled in a sudden movement that sounded somehow slick and grating at the same time. The sting of sulfur made her nose itch as the rock turned into a thing, stretching and reshaping itself into a rough, bi-pedal form. Although a very tall human could have easily stood upright in the chamber, this creature had to stoop, hunching itself up against the confining granite.

It gazed down at Niksabella with carmine-colored eyes.

Her body had already begun a full-on retreat, backing up until her head struck the rock wall. She winced and put her hands behind her, her eyes never leaving the intimidating stone hulk.

The thing’s semi-luminous eyes, while they
should
be terrifying, did not hold malice. In fact, the eyes seemed reticent, even sad. And that wasn’t the only odd thing about the creature. Its right arm hung at a peculiar angle from its shoulder, the appendage loose and dangling, barely attached by loose earth and root-like tendons. It breathed and flexed, its skin swelling smoothly yet grinding like… like…
living rock!
Sigils covered its plated skin, their meanings indecipherable to her but piquing her scriber’s curiosity all the same.

Niksabella thought to climb up to the ledge, but she’d need a boost to reach it, and Jancy didn’t seem concerned with helping. A quick glance revealed no other exits. They were trapped!

“Do not fear, little Nika.” Its voice sounded like nothing Niksabella had ever heard before; a pile of loose stones vibrating together to form words. “I will never hurt you.”

Niksabella’s blood pounded through her veins, urging her to get the futtering Hells out. Out,
any
way out! But with nowhere to go, all she could do was stand and face it. And this was clearly something akin to the thing that had attacked her while coming home from Bombrick’s some nights ago.

Take courage,
she told herself.
Jancy is not afraid, so find your strength!

Niksabella took two brave steps away from the wall. She straightened her dress, brushing off some of the sulfuric dust, and mustered a stern look. The rock man towered over her. He could easily smash her to so much pulp if the notion took him. But he hadn’t; rather, he got down on one gargantuan knee and bowed his head.

“Oh,” Niksabella said, taking a half step back. She was barely as tall as the bend of his knee. She clutched the folds of her coat to keep her hands from shaking.

“Please forgive me, Nika. I have greatly wronged you.”

Niksabella blinked. “I’m… very
sorry… err…
sir
… but how could you have possibly wronged me?” The hulking figure remained motionless. If anything, his head bent further down in what Niksabella determined must be shame. “What I mean to say is if you’ve wronged me, I’m sure I would have noticed.”

His huge head lifted so that they came almost face-to-face. His eyes reminded her of machine cogs, and his russet skin seemed impregnable. She stared in fascination.

“You haven’t noticed because you could never imagine someone like me ever existed, at least until now. You see, I’ve been spying on you. I saw your fight with the Varmathi warrior in the alley; your will to survive, your strength…” The carmine eyes flashed at Jancy. “And still in good company, I see.”

The Varmathi warrior? The one in black with the wicked goddess hair?

“Who… who
are
you?”

The rock man bowed his head lower, eyes to the ground. “My name is Jontuk, and I come on behalf of the Rockhewn Nation. Our world, an
ultraworld
to you, is called Rockholm. I have come a very long way to request your assistance to save my people.”

“What now?” She eyed the giant skeptically.

“Little Nika, here is the part of my tale where you might find my actions…
untoward
. You may even hate me after you hear what I’ve done.”

“Hate you? I don’t even know you.”

Jontuk placed his good hand against his stomach, where his skin took on a sunken appearance. Its texture became like molten rock only without the heat. Something moved inside the semi-translucent layer, a small, crumpled form. A crumpled
humanoid
form.

Her automaton!
Jontuk held it out.

She could hardly believe her eyes. The little fellow was tarnished, dented, and dirty. One eye was busted, and his neck was twisted at an awkward angle.

“How do you have my invention? Wait. You
stole
it?” Wasn’t the giant’s ruined arm evidence enough? Obvious, even. Only a creature such as this would have been able to withstand the heat of her firetrap. A new fire blossomed in her chest. “Yes, you
did
steal
it. Finally, you come out of your little hole to reveal yourself. And I thought
Raulnock
was the most despicable person I’d ever met! Thief!”

Niksabella crouched down, slave to the impulsiveness that sometimes drove her to do questionable things, and picked up a rock.

Chapter Five

“That’s not going to hurt him in the least, you know,” Jancy said from her lounging position. Niksabella continued to hurl rock after rock.

She didn’t care. Each bounced harmlessly off Jontuk’s thick skin, yet he took his punishment wordlessly.

When Niksabella became winded and realizing rock-throwing was indeed not helping, she slapped him hard on the knee. This seemed to affect him most of all. A high, rumbling sound started in his chest. She thought it might be remorse but couldn’t be sure. She found it hard to believe this rock man felt anything. She clenched her fists, fuming. “You’re right, I’m feeling
some
degree of hatred at the moment.”

Jontuk did not move, did not speak, but slunk over like a whipped dog.

“Why steal it? For that matter, why bring it back?” The words burst from her mouth harder than any stone she could have thrown.

Jontuk’s eyes found hers again, deep sockets of rock haunted by shadows.

“I needed to find out how your device worked, so I took it to many inventors—”

Niksabella grew incensed, beyond incensed. “You showed my recursive mirror to others? You potentially gave away my secrets!” With the thief before her, she became foolish. This time, she slapped him across his hewn cheek, reaching high to do it, striking him so hard her hand hurt.

Jontuk’s stony head wagged, shrugging off the blow. “No, little Nika. He hardly knew what to make of it. He only gleaned an inkling of your invention’s purpose. He was very impressed, and he—”

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I am. And I’m sorry for your brother too. I wish him well. I’m afraid I was not
honorable
to him.”

“My brother? How do you know Nik? What did you do to him?”

Jontuk’s demeanor sunk even lower—if that were at all possible. “We struck a deal. I would procure some exotic… items for him, and he would pass along information about your device. Eventually, you and I were supposed to meet. Although I don’t think your brother ever planned for that to happen.”

“What things did you procure for him?”

“The bugs.”

Cogs spun in Niksabella’s brain, and she instantly saw how her brother had been involved from the beginning. His interest in her notes. Him losing the very same notes. His goading her at Bombrick’s. It was all very typical of him. Surprisingly, she wasn’t surprised. Her emotions took a turn; deflating, her anger burning off to a mild simmer as she realized how in the dark she’d been.

Niksabella glanced at the giant’s wounded shoulder. “I hope it
hurt
.”

“Aye. It
still
hurts.”

“Good. What else does my brother know?”

“He doesn’t know anything of what I just told you. He’s only aware of our deal.”

“Which is
off
now.”

“Aye.”

Niksabella’s waning anger was interrupted by giggling. Jancy, one hand over her mouth, was stifling her laughter. Jancy saw the look on Niksabella’s face, which only made things worse, and the tiny sounds grew into a barely containable string of bucking breaths, until Jancy had to cover her face with both hands to keep them in.

“What’s so funny?”

Jancy took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. “Just seeing little
you
berate this brute of a stonekin.” She mashed her eyes shut, and tears rolled out.

“I don’t see how that is so
funny.”

Jancy’s face turned red, and she drew her knees up and hid her face, gently shaking behind those knobby legs of hers. Niksabella glanced at Jontuk where he knelt, still as docile as a pup.

Oh, why not. Everything has been going left for a long time now.

“Okay, maybe a little funny.” Niksabella allowed herself a light chuckle, measuring the comical size of the rock man. Still, she wanted to get to the bottom of this theft. With her emotions under control, questions formed in her mind. “Now that I’m caught up on the theft of my automaton, I’d like to know why you did it.”

“He did bring it back, Nika.”

“I’ll hear him out.” She squared up on Jontuk and took her automaton from his hand. His face, as hard and chiseled as it was, wilted with a mixture of longing and despair. Niksabella inspected the tin doll and found it in worse shape than she thought. She could only hope its insides hadn’t been shaken to pieces. “Fine, Jontuk of the stonekin. Start from the beginning. Why would you steal from me and then come back begging for my help?”

Jontuk adjusted his massive weight—at least three tons of him—and looked unsure how to begin. Strange behavior coming from one so imposing.

“Tell her the
whole
story, Jony. Tell her what you told me.” Jancy, a touch of humor in her voice, crossed her stocking legs and appeared to be setting in for a long tale. “You’re going to love this, Nika. I brought a hot tank of snolt
if you want to sit and get cozy. It’s quite a story.”

“No thank you!”

“You sure? I’ve got a little gnomish stove mash
to mix with it. Wonderful stuff. Never had the stomach for hard liquor until lately.”

Niksabella shook her head but then had second thoughts. “Oh, very well.” After Jancy had poured her a warm mug, heavy on the mash, she leaned on the rock between Jancy’s swinging legs. “Go ahead…”

Jontuk’s eyes held a frightening intensity, a white-hot light burning outward from within, pushing the cooler reds away. His jaw worked like two bricks grinding together as he struggled to find the right words.

He tilted his head sideways and gazed upward. “The universe is bigger and more frightening than you know. It holds tremendous beauty and also terrible chaos. Some chaos is good and, one might say, a part of the natural order of things. Just as life dies and is reborn on your world, so it is with mine: the chaos of rebirth. In your world of Sullenor, forces beneath the ground shift and pull minutely, changing the surface by scant degrees each year, while on my world, the ground is like a roiling ocean of molten core, evolving the face of the planet in just seconds; a chaos we build our homes on and around. We populate, we live, and time goes by like a whisper. It goes on. There is a point to this kind of chaos because it corresponds to something important, to a movement, to a crucial progress, as it is with your world. Both would perish should the natural order be interrupted.

“But there is another kind of chaos. The kind brought about by others.

“This chaos visited Rockholm nearly a century ago by the Warlords of Weyar: riding upon the wings of dragons, descending in flying machines that spewed foulness, and war mages whispering insanity to us in our dreams. If it had been just a physical threat, not a single stonekin would have turned away from the opportunity to defend their home. But no, our demise started with a small betrayal, spun from lies and deceit, until a great artifact of my stonekin was stolen and given to the Warlords. My people became slaves without so much as a fight.”

Jontuk ground his good fist tight, and Niksabella was suddenly thankful for his restraint during her tirade.

“Who was it? Who attacked you?” Niksabella leaned forward.

“The Baron leads them. The child usurper. But Martreuse the Foul was the instigator, the Baron’s right hand. At the time, my people were naïve to the dangers of the universe. We knew nothing of the Warlords of Weyar. Nor did we care. I will spare you the minute details except to say that the one who betrayed us, one of our very own—based on promises whispered in his dreams—delivered the Staff of Rilyak to the Baron. This staff holds the Stone of Life, the magick by which all stonekin are bound. Whoever possesses the staff and the stone…”

“Controls the stonekin.”

“Aye.” Jontuk finally stood, head bumping against the roof and sending trickles of dust and stone down on them. He winced and clutched his arm to his side. He shifted and went onto his other knee, resting his weakened limb on his leg. “The Baron made us do terrible things. We conquered worlds for him, destroyed a hundred civilizations…” For the first time, Niksabella noticed the thin, spider-web cracks running all through Jontuk’s skin. Around his eyes, droplets of water pushed out, condensing and then splashing on the ground.

Crying.

It might have been an embarrassing moment for the huge warrior, but to Niksabella, it was touching. “So, how did you come to be here? If you are a slave. Would this Baron not keep tight rein over your people?”

“The Baron doesn’t fully understand the Staff or the Stone. If he did, I would not be here. He would know my every movement, my every thought, but he hasn’t yet mastered it. Some of us found ways to escape, traveling to other worlds without his leave. I faked my own death in a great battle and came all this way, just to speak with you.”

And to steal my invention
, Niksabella wanted to say. But she held her tongue. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if the Baron found out?”

Jontuk shrugged. “It could mean the death of many stonekin as retribution.”

Niksabella gave the giant a bemused look. She’d absorbed this tale well enough, but she feared she might be reaching the limits of her acceptance. To think that some ultraworldly giant sought her help. It was absurd! But here he knelt, a well-spoken, stately-minded, walking boulder… a
crying
boulder.

“That much I understand. But how did you come to know about my invention? After all, you are from another
world
.”

“A lady, a
gnomestress,
came to us. Small in stature, strong of mind. She claimed to be a prophetess, a world walker.”

A chill ran up Nika’s spine, and she cut the giant off. “What did she look like?”

Jontuk’s face twisted, remembering. “Older than you by many years, yet there is a vibrancy about her. Her spirit is strong, her hair like flames.”

Niksabella felt the blood drain from her face. “Did she have a young one with her? A gnomeling?”

“Aye. You know of this world walker?”

“Was he yellow of hair with dead eyes?”

“The small one? Aye. We did not know much of your race at the time, but he was not like the gnomestress. Or like you. Rather, he seemed to me much like your automaton. Cold. Not dead but not alive either.”

Niksabella’s head swam. Was it the same gnomestress who had plagued her dreams? It seemed impossible, yet Jontuk had just described her perfectly. “I think I’ll have another, Jancy. Just give me the mash.” Niksabella handed over her automaton and held out her tin cup for Jancy to refill.

Jancy nodded at the cup quivering in Niksabella’s hand. “You’re shaking.” She chuckled. “Jony’s really not all that scary once you get to know him. And the mash is almost gone…”

Niksabella took a gulp and winced as a sweet fire erupted in her gut. She coughed and shook her head. “It’s not Jontuk. Well, he terrified me at first, of course. But…”

She finished the mash in her cup and then took the decanter from Jancy, emptying it. “What did she say to you? The gnomestress and her gnomeling.”

“She came to us and spoke your name, Niksabella Nur, and gave us the name of your world. She said that if we wanted to be free, we should seek you out. At first, no stonekin believed her, nor could we drive her away. She has a power. She visited our dreams, guiding us, saving many stonekin from the Baron’s punishments. We held council and with her help developed a plan to smuggle one stonekin away. I suppose we trusted her in the end. I stand before you as evidence.

“I traveled through a gate of her making, stepping onto your world two seasons ago, early spring. When I first came to Sullenor, to Hightower, I knew I was in the right place. The gnomestress hadn’t lied. She was one of your kind, no mistaking it. It took me most of that first season to learn your language and ways with the help of one called Seether, who also fashioned for us a way back home when I found the answers I sought. My only regret is that I went about everything like a fool.”

Niksabella allowed herself to sympathize with the giant if just a little. Combined with the humbling knowledge that the gnomestress in her dreams must be real, she could hardly get her mind around it. “It must be horrible knowing you can return home at any time, but…”

“But I cannot. Not until I find the answer.”

Niksabella stood straighter even as the mash sent her head spinning. “Here I am. Do you now have your answers?”

“Aside from your automaton, no. Unless you deem us allies.”

Niksabella hadn’t told anyone about her dreams, not even Jancy. Only that they’d been strange and lingering and put her in a foul mood. “Jontuk. This gnomestress. She’s visited me too.”

“What?” Jancy scooted to the edge of the rock.

Jontuk lifted his head. “What does she say to you, little Nika?”

Niksabella shook her head, holding her hands up questioningly. “I don’t know. I can never remember my dreams. She doesn’t tell me anything.”

He deflated only slightly. “She is cryptic, to be sure. But it is a sign, you must agree.”

Niksabella certainly couldn’t
disagree.
It explained a lot except for how her device could save the stonekin. And she wondered something else too. “Why didn’t you just ask me, Jontuk? I’ve been short-sighted before, and perhaps I would have run like a mad fool the first time I saw you, but I think you could have convinced me. If anything, it would have kept me out of jail. And my brother might not be laying on the bed in there, next to dead.”