He shoved the grate back into place and looked aroundfor some sort of disguise.
His gaze fell on the half-finished servant on theworktable. The shell really did look like a suit of armor.
He went over for a closer look. The torso was emptyexcept for a few handfuls of tightly assembled machinery. Foxpulled them out and fed them to the vat of metal solvent.
Fox climbed onto the table and worked his way intothe armor suit. He swung his legs over the side of the table andfound the metal was surprisingly light. Gripping the edge of thetable, he pulled himself upright.
So far, so good.
The helmet was another concern. To his relief hecould see through the hard silver substance covering the eyesockets. He worked his hands into the articulated gloves, flexedhis fingers several times. He hopped off the table and took anexperimental step. The armor was a little too big, but it felt wellbalanced. After two circuits of the workroom, he figured he was asready as he was likely to get. He clanked down the narrow stairsleading to the courtyard.
His heart quickened at the sight of Rhendish sittingnext to Avidan. The two adepts played some sort of card game, whichAvidan had prudently chosen to observe.
Muldonny’s eyes narrowed as he took in the metal-cladFox. “And where is Master Insa’amid’s servant?”
“Thief take clockwork,” Fox said, making his voicelow and grating.
It was, in his opinion, an excellent approximation ofthe servant’s voice. The slight tick at one corner of Avidan’smouth indicated that the alchemist thought otherwise.
“My most abject apologies,” Avidan murmured. “Theservant came highly recommended. I will recompense you for any lossand shall deal most harshly with him.”
“You needn’t trouble yourself on either account,” theadept said. “I’m certain he has already been dealt with.”
“Servants,” said Rhendish, shaking his head incommiseration. “You treat them well, pay them fairly, and stillthey rob you.”
Muldonny drew a card from the deck and scowled at hishand. “So I am told.”
Fox raised a metal hand to his mouth, the signal forAvidan to press for information.
“One of your servants has been caught stealing?”
“He was caught, yes, but unfortunately long after thetheft,” Rhendish said. “He sold the item before we could recoverit.”
A muscle twitched near Muldonny’s left eye. “Nothingof great value, I trust.”
Rhendish waved one hand dismissively. “A curiosity,nothing more.”
They played several hands in silence. At lastRhendish threw down his cards.
“My luck is singularly bad today. It would appearthat your winnings exceed my purse. I’ll send my steward firstthing tomorrow to settle up.”
“There is no need,” Muldonny said. “This was afriendly game, nothing more.”
Rhendish’s sardonic smile fell just short of insult.He removed a ring and handed it to Muldonny.
“But I insist. Perhaps you will take this as payment,or at least as a surety of payment to come.”
Muldonny’s eyes widened as he took in the pale pinkcrystal and the tiny, intricate runes encircling the silver band.“This is elf-crafted! It’s far too valuable.”
“Not to me,” Rhendish said. “I have more than enoughelven trinkets in my collection of curiosities and, truth be told,I don’t particularly fancy wearing pink.”
The adept slipped the ring onto his small finger andadmired his plump hand. “In that case, I accept with pleasure.Please send word any time you feel the urge to gamble.”
“I have several other elf-crafted items that might beof interest to you,” Rhendish said. “It’s a shame about the theft,though. I suspect you would have risked a great deal to possessthat dagger.”
The adept’s studiously casual tone set off alarms inFox’s mind.
According to Honor, Muldonny possessed a stolen elvendagger. According to Rhendish, an elven dagger was recently stolenfrom him. Rhendish was clearly putting Muldonny on notice. Andelven daggers were not exactly plentiful in Sevrin. Fox did notrequire an abacus to add these pieces of information into adisturbing total.
Why hadn’t Honor mentioned that Rhendish oncepossessed the Thorn?
On second thought, he realized there was no reasonwhy she should. She knew nothing of the enmity between him and theadept.
Still, the fact remained that if Rhendish had aninterest in the dagger, their task had just become much morecomplicated.
“It seems that we are both unfortunate in our choiceof servants,” Avidan said. He lifted his cup in salute to his host.“It would appear that Muldonny has the right idea.”
Rhendish shrugged. “Clockwork servants might beimpervious to greed, but they do wear out rather quickly. You mustgo through dozens each year.”
“Mine are built for strength and durability, but yes,a few.”
Muldonny lifted one hand in a gesture Fox remembered.He plodded forward and reached for the samovar.
The metal hands were fully articulated, but withoutthe sensation of touch, Fox had no idea whether his grip wassecure. He gripped the vessel hard enough, in his estimation, tocrack the glass and dribble a bit of tea onto Avidan’s stolenfinery.
The samovar shattered, dumping the entire contents ofthe pot into Avidan’s lap. The alchemist jumped to his feet andpeeled off his sodden outer robe.
Rhendish smirked. “Well, it’s certainly obvious thatyou’ve built for strength.”
Avidan held up a hand to cut off Muldonny’sapologies. “We are none of us well served today by those in ouremploy. Perhaps you will permit me to return at another time?”
“Of course! I look forward to continuing ourdiscussion.”
The alchemist bowed to each adept in turn. “No doubtyour servant is dexterous enough to see me out.”
“That is not a risk I care to take.”
Muldonny reached for a bell. Three clockworkservants, identical to the form Fox wore, stomped into thegarden.
The adept pointed to one of the constructs. “You. SeeMaster Insa’amid to the gate. You two dispose of this andreturn to the garden.”
It took Fox a moment to realize that he was the itemslated for disposal.
He turned to run. Before he could take a single step,the two clockwork guards flanked him, closed metal hands around hisupper arms, and carried him out of the garden.
They marched him to the outer wall and tossed himover.
As the ground sped up to meet him, Fox hoped thatMuldonny’s claim of durability was more than an idle boast.
Stars sparkled in the sky over Stormwall Island whenFox awoke. He struggled for several moments to sit up before itoccurred to him to remove the metal shell.
One of the gloves had come loose during the fall. Foxshook it off and tossed it aside. It landed with a sharp clunk ofmetal on metal.
Starlight glimmered on piles of metal around him. Ittook a while for his befuddled mind to understand that he’d beentossed into a pit of defective or outdated clockwork creatures.
Fox flung the arm of another knight off his chest androlled away from the metallic corpses. He shed the armor andclimbed out of the pit as quickly as he would flee a massgrave.
That was foolishness, of course. These were machines.The pit might as well be filled with broken pottery.
An unnerving whimper came from one mangled form. Foxhad already started to turn back to help when he remembered thevoice belonged to a machine, not a comrade.
He squared his shoulders and strode off into thenight.
But he took with him the odd conviction that he wouldcarry the memory of this desertion for the rest of his days.
Chapter Eight: Blood and Bone
For the next several days, Delgar kept the dwarvesworking in shifts, chipping away at the solid stone between a seacave and the shaft Fox had discovered under Muldonny’sworkroom.
The elf, to her credit, worked as hard as any of thedwarves, carrying away baskets of rubble and refilling tankardsfaster than thirst could keep pace. In fact, she worked longerhours than anyone. She’d gotten a sword from Fox’s little armoryand spent the night shifts standing guard.