The Machines of Theda Read online

  “And you are sure there are no tremps in Theda?” Tallis asked hesitantly. She had never managed to get a straight answer from any of the sailors whenever she pressed them on the topic, and she found it deeply disconcerting.

  Tomas chewed on his lip and lowered his eyes. He was no good at lying to her.

  “So, everyone, and every country we know about, is inhabited by tremps then? Wodan help me…are we going to have to go through this again, just like in Selkirk?”

  Tomas was quick to shake his head as he nervously tried to calm her. "No, no, nothing like that. They have elves, but apparently they…well, they weren’t like the ones back home. It’s why they initially cut off trade. They were afraid of whatever our elves had spreading, as if it were a sickness of some kind.”

  Part of her was intrigued to see what these tremps were like, and if they would recognize her for what she was. Thankfully, most only saw a woman who made them squint as they tried to puzzle out what it was that made her look always slightly out of place. None, so far, had suspected that she, herself, was half-tremp, and she hoped the elves wouldn’t be able to see it, either.

  Chapter 3

  Tallis knew they were close to Theda before the golden slopes of the country came into view. She felt just the faintest of sensations, akin to her big toe falling asleep, just enough to let her know that Theda was home to the same ancient trees that grew in Selkirk.

  As they got closer to Theda, the air warmed considerably. Little by little, Tallis found herself shedding more and more of the clothing that was better suited to Selkirk’s temperate spring, though even in the thralls of spring, Selkirk was a cold and wet country.

  Her solution, when she was alone in the belly of the ship, was to sit in nothing but her undergarments to keep from feeling overwhelmed by the unaccustomed heat.

  And that was how Tomas found her when he came to share his exciting news.

  He burst into the room, skin glistening with the bronze hue it had developed in the constant sun, his sandy blonde hair flopping into his eyes, and his prominent cheek bones flushed with excitement. The blush only intensified when he saw Tallis.

  She gasped lightly, more in surprise than shame. Tomas had seen her practically naked already, back when he had tended to her punctured lung. She did not mind if he saw her in little to no clothing, especially now.

  Tomas, however, cared deeply.

  Despite all they had been through, he held ironclad to the sense of honor and morality instilled in him during the first twenty years of his life, spent among the cloistered brothers.

  Tomas’s eyes went wide and could not help but drift down her skin. Tallis smiled and shifted her position lightly, the subtle invitation breaking the spell Tomas was under just long enough for him to turn away, stammering incoherent apologies all the while.

  Tallis laughed as she grabbed her discarded tunic and slipped it effortlessly over her head. It was a light and airy, green cotton fabric, unadorned, simple, and still stifling even though it was the lightest article of clothing she had ever owned. It fell to her mid-thigh and was as much modesty as she was willing to offer in the heat.

  “Tomas you've seen me in less. I thought we were beyond this, anyway.” she said teasingly as he turned his back to her.

  “I…I’m sorry, I should have knocked. I just...I wanted to tell you we are near Theda. We’ll, uh, we’ll be docking soon. I should...I’ll let you get ready.” He then fled from the room as quickly as his long legs would carry him.

  Tallis watched him go and sighed. As much as she was glad the ordeal in Selkirk had not changed Tomas’s gentle nature and modesty, she did find it exasperating at times. Once the door had clanged shut behind him, Tallis wiggled herself back into the loose, brown cotton skirt she had been wearing, and tucked her tunic into its waist. She already felt herself boiling in the floor-length skirt, despite its lightly woven material. Gathering the rest of their things, Tallis met Tomas on the deck and patiently waited as the ship maneuvered its way to the docks of Theda.

  Even if Tallis couldn’t feel the heat wafting from Theda, it looked like a warm country: fertile hills, clear skies, and unfiltered sunshine beat down across the country and its sprawling plains tucked around its mountains.

  Tallis inhaled deeply, letting the crisp and arid air fill her lungs. She was so far from home, farther than anyone she had ever known had gone before. There was a fear and loneliness to the thought that tugged deep in her heart and made her long for Selkirk’s gray skies and temperamental weather.

  But she couldn’t look at Theda and the warmth it brought and not also feel glad. She knew that out there somewhere amongst the flaxen hills, the feathery green grass, and the sprawling city that rose up to greet her, the presence of the ancient trees waited for her.

  As did more tremps.

  They disembarked the merchant ship without much fanfare. Tomas said farewell to the sailor who now had a much more powerful spyglass, thanks to him, and to Captain Pol, who would forever be in Tomas’s debt for improving upon his simple compass and sextant. Otherwise, they departed with barely a second glance. Some of the crewmen waited patiently for Tomas to leave the docks and get his first glimpse of the denizens of Theda, but none seemed much perturbed that the mysterious blonde woman with her stormy, sea green eyes was off their ship.

  The port of Theda was alive with hundreds of new sights and sounds that left Tallis reeling. People of every shape, size, and color teemed on the docks, scurrying about like impatient rats as they went about their business. It would seem that everyone from high-born lords and ladies to the lowest dregs of society could be found in the port of Aelius.

  She couldn’t tell who was native to Theda and who might be there on business. There were men and women as dark as night, and with even darker markings in swirling designs decorating their faces and arms. She saw people with so many piercings that they seemed to make music when they moved, and grown adults who were the size of children, just as Sholto, her healer had been. There were also people dressed in the traditional garb of Selkirk, though she didn’t recognize any of them.

  Those native to Selkirk didn’t seem to want to linger in Aelius for very long. Instead, the small group huddled together before scampering to the nearest carriage headed out of the port city. Despite the people from Selkirk trying their best not to meet anyone’s eye, Tallis didn’t wish to stare at them too long and draw unwarranted attention, especially when there were so many other tantalizing sights to absorb.

  Tallis shifted her gaze to the men and women who trudged along the docks with shaved heads and manacles on their wrists and ankles. They were dressed in dirty rags, the skin around their chains raw and blistered where the metal chaffed away at their flesh. They slogged along silently, moving crates and boxes, seemingly under the guidance of no one, though Tallis assumed there was an unseen force monitoring their comings and goings.

  She narrowed her eyes and saw that every one of them was branded. In the middle of their foreheads was Wodan’s holy symbol, a circle with a thick line in the middle, seared into their skin.

  The workers stood out in such a diverse crowd, and yet no one dared make any eye contact with them. Tattooed men and pierced women had no qualms striking a conversation with one another, but if a branded worker happened to stumble onto their path, they paid as much mind as they would an ant. More often than not, people went out of their way to ignore these chained workers, as if they would prefer pretending they did not exist.

  The branded workers moved with glassy-eyed stares, as if their will to live had been sucked out of them and tossed aside like refuse. Even those whose brands were relatively fresh seemed devoid of any spirit. Tallis wondered what they had done to deserve such a fate and, furthermore, what kind of society felt such a punishment was appropriate to begin with.

  Tallis wanted to pity them, but was unable to. Something about being branded in such a way told her these men and women did not deserve her pity; she just wished she knew why.
br />   She was unable to puzzle over such feelings long as Tomas grabbed her hand and gently tugged her farther down the dock. Tomas, apparently, hadn’t even noticed the branded workers as he inhaled all the scents of the city and asked, “Where to now?”

  Tallis shrugged, playing with her bags and itching to put her trident-shaped daggers and hidden knives back in place. “I suppose we should find an inn or some other lodging. With the money Captain Pol gave you, we should be all right for a few days, at least until we figure something else out.”

  It was not much of a plan, but Tallis was purposely trying to keep their stay in the city of Aelius as simple as possible. Her best friend, Rosslyn, had said that trouble was bound to follow Tallis like a mischievous shadow, and she was determined to avoid fulfilling that prognostication as much as she could. Even if that meant barreling into Theda with nary an idea of what to do, where to go, or how long they would stay.

  Tomas nodded and gave her a lopsided grin as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Tallis briefly met his dusky green eyes and watched as they darkened with a not-so-secret desire that made her heart skip a beat. It still amazed Tallis that a man like Tomas could give her goosebumps and make her feel hot, and all with just a glance.

  The worst of it was she knew that Tomas knew what effect he had on her now, and yet something held him back. It could be considered gallant, if it wasn’t equally galling.

  They walked through the streets, the brown cobblestones announcing their presence like a parade of drummer boys. As they left the bustling dock behind in its flurry of activity from crewmen and bossy merchants, Tallis stopped and gaped at the city of Aelius; it sprawled like a lazy beast before her.

  It was like nothing she had ever seen before. The tall, clean wooden buildings tucked neatly around the cobblestone streets and the occasional ash-white stone structure made the already bright city glow even more with the sun’s reflection. It was busier than Isildor during a Bride Block auction, and the noise of it sent Tallis swaying on her feet.

  The noise was more than she could have ever imagined. It wasn’t just the sounds of hundreds and hundreds of heeled boots clacking over the uneven roads, but there was a sound of metal grinding on metal, steel cogs constantly churning, and the gentle vibration of an electric hum that made the tips of her fingers and toes twitch with a mild numbness.

  Tallis glanced at Tomas as he stared wide-eyed at the city. He didn’t seem to notice the racket, but rather appeared enthralled by the devices that were the source of such noise. He couldn’t hear the noise the way she could, nor could he feel its pulse deep in his bones, as if there was life tingling through the air.

  “They weren’t exaggerating,” Tomas said, his voice escaping in a sigh of delight.

  Tallis narrowed her eyes and looked at the citizens of Aelius more closely. They were varying shades of pale and bronze; seemingly a clear divide between those who embraced the sun’s rays and those who did not. The men and women mingled as if there was no difference between the two of them, and each was adorned in a kind of machinery Tallis had never seen before.

  Mechanical contraptions dangled from their clothing; giant watches clasped firmly on leather vests, enormous brass goggles hanging from their necks, motionless cogs and gears that served no discernible purpose other than to decorate their attire and clang and creak as they twisted their bodies. But the strangest of all were the mechanical limbs and the goggles that served as eyes.

  Tallis could feel her mouth drop in horror and wonder at the sight of men and women with arms made of nothing but twisting gears, wires, and hooks; they made cruel looking limbs in the absence of original appendages. While only a few of the hundreds of people she saw had such limbs, it explained the constant hum she heard as entire arms and legs, or hands or feet, or merely fingers all moved rhythmically, as if they had been made of flesh and bone.

  “How is that even possible?” Tallis murmured in wonder as she openly stared at them.

  “I have no idea, but by Wodan’s grace…it’s miraculous,” Tomas said breathlessly.

  Tallis would not describe it as such. These metal arms, legs, and eyes were patently unnatural and made her skin itch, despite the technical marvels that they were. Tomas and his constantly tinkering mind might have found them a glorious wonder, but Tallis did not.

  The sounds and sights of the machines only made Tallis long for the familiar presence of the quiet, ancient trees all the more. While on the ship, she had felt the slightest inclination of their presence, but now that her feet were firmly on the ground, the constant mechanical hum prevailed. She couldn’t find the powerful root system that would connect her to the old trees and the comforting mental embraces they had provided her with back in Selkirk.

  For as beautiful as Aelius was, most trees Tallis could see were sapling lemon and orange trees that gave the arid air a mildly sweet fragrance. Even the few junipers she saw were far too young to connect her to the old trees she knew were somewhere in Theda.

  Tallis was not expecting to be disappointed by the immediate lack of the antediluvian trees, but her heart sank at being denied their instantaneous comfort. She refused to let her dissatisfaction show, and instead, turned her attention back to the alien city spreading out before her.

  She and Tomas continued to marvel at Aelius; Tallis’s eyes widened more and more as she continued to study the citizens of the city. So, this is why the crew wanted to see Tomas’s reaction.

  The men were dressed simply enough, with their loose-fitting trousers, light shirts rolled to their elbows, and leather vests dyed in various shades of red, brown, green, and black. They tended to wear top hats, and apparently for no other reason than that they could, many sported a pair of useless brass-goggled eyeglasses resting on the brim.

  Many double-breasted waistcoats had cog-shaped buttons and elaborate pocket watches with the gears showing pinned about them in various places. As far as Tallis could tell, these items’ inclusion on their outfits was merely decorative and served no utilitarian purpose. Unless telling time was a sacred right in Theda, which she sincerely doubted.

  It was the women, however, who made Tallis’s eyes bulge. Much like the men, many wore top hats with watches and gears adorning their person. Their bodices were tight, leather under-bust corsets as opposed to the fitted vests the men wore. Tallis thought the corsets lovely, despite how constricting they appeared.

  Tight leather with massive buckles and straps kept the women from spilling out of their tops; giant metal studs affixed softer and lighter fabrics to the ensemble. Many women wore varying shades and patterns of airy fabric that spilled over the bodice and brought one’s eye naturally to their entrapped breasts. Tallis couldn’t help but stare, which was precisely what many women seemed to want, if the flashy fabrics and figure shaping garments that covered them were any indication.

  They wore long and flowing skirts which dragged on the cobblestoned street. The sides were bustled high up on their thighs, forming a half-moon shaped patch of fabric in the front to conceal their undergarments. Despite the heat, many wore stockings to mid-thigh and high-heeled boots. The boots should have made tramping about on cobblestones precarious at best, but, nonetheless, their wearers navigated the streets with ease and skill.

  The women should have been melting under all the fabric, tight corsets, and stockings, but they moved with elegance, as if the sun hardly bothered them at all. It was so different from what Tallis was used to and so mesmerizing that she immediately wanted to be adorned in the clothing of this strange place.

  No matter how petite or delicate the woman though, draped in leather and skirts which seemed to purposely mock tradition and modesty, she appeared powerful and in control. These were women who could take charge of their destiny and casually flick tradition aside if they so chose. It looked liberating, no matter how confining the corset.

  It had taken Tomas a moment to drag his eyes away from the mechanical limbs to notice what the women of Theda were wearing. When he did,
he gave a gasp and appeared to want to look anywhere but at the wonder that was the city of Aelius. Tallis couldn’t help but laugh as his curiosity dissolved almost instantly into bashfulness.

  “You do know that if we want to fit in we’ll need to dress like the rest of them, right?” Tallis whispered in his ear. She wasn’t sure if the shiver that followed was from her breath tickling his ear or Tomas’s reaction to imaging Tallis in such clothing.

  Tallis was giggling to herself over Tomas’s reaction when she was bumped on the shoulder. A young boy carrying boxes upon boxes of fresh olives peered over the crates, about to apologize, when their eyes locked.

  Tallis stared into such crisp and startling blue eyes, she thought she was staring into the cloudless sky above her. Two pairs of porcelain, knife-pointed ears peeked out through an unruly tuft of jet black hair. As Tallis’s eyes slid over the points, her stomach plummeted to the balls of her feet.

  Tallis was staring into the eyes of a tremp.

  He dropped his boxes to the ground with a loud clatter. The people in their immediate area turned their attention towards the three impassively before losing interest and going back to what they had been doing. Elves, it would seem, were of no particular importance.

  The young boy and Tallis stared at each other for what felt like an uncomfortably long time. His attention flickering to the gentle point of her own ears, her own almond-shaped eyes, the gentle slopes and curves of her face that seemed to scream she was neither entirely elf nor human, but a perfect blend of both.

  His eyes widened and he muttered something so softly and full of dread that even though Tallis wasn’t sure what he’d said, she knew it was nothing good. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The boy’s stupor broke and he collected the fallen crates. Mumbling apologies and refusing to meet Tallis’s eyes again, he scuttled away and lost himself in the crowd before Tallis could stop him.