Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [91]
“To Xanadu, to defend against the rebellion, though the news we receive from outside says there is no rebellion to crush.” Nergüi grinned and clicked her tongue, obviously not fooled by the official statements. “Perhaps they have flung the rebels all away.”
To the Horde outposts. Just as governing an outlying territory was a punishment, so too was this. With many soldiers about, the outposts effectively became a work prison for entire families. “And what will you do with no soldiers about?”
“Me? I only cook. The boy only builds.”
Ah. She was being careful with Yasmeen about—not a soldier, but uncertain why a gan tsetseg and Archimedes were here. Yasmeen gave the old woman a quick explanation, saying that they’d only come to collect some of the barbarians’ equipment, before suspicion led her to ask:
“Did Terbish build his machine from the parts that were left here?”
“Yes.”
So they might not find much at all. But why the horse? If they were rebels, did they plan to use it? It did seem the sort of fanciful machine a young man would make. “And one day, will he ride his pony across the empire?”
“No, no.” Nergüi’s smile bunched cheeks as round as Terbish’s. “That is just to cross the valley.”
When the sun rose, Terbish showed them the courtyard. Five airships could have been tethered comfortably within its walls, and it was taken up with a dark machine. Yasmeen stared up at it. Roughly shaped as if someone had chopped off the top of a mountain and placed it in the courtyard—but it was a mountain made of propellers and pistons, valves and pipes—too large to be anything but awe-inspiring. She couldn’t make sense of its purpose. Propellers might have been for direction, but couldn’t provide propulsion—not for something this massive.
“What is it?” Archimedes said, and Yasmeen was thankful she was not the only one who hadn’t yet figured it out.
“A flying machine. Of course it is not finished. But in another five years, it will rise.”
Oh. How to say this without offending? Yasmeen settled for “It’s very heavy.”
Terbish stared at her. Then a bright smile widened his mouth. “No. This is only the shape. Come.”
He raced around the machine.
Archimedes grinned and walked with her—neither one in such a hurry.
“This is a surprising find,” he said, and she knew he was not speaking of the machine, but Nergüi and Terbish.
“That is the very best kind.”
“Yes. We won’t find much here. Nergüi says the fortress is almost picked clean.”
“Then we’ll enjoy two days of food that doesn’t crawl with worms.”
“Will they have enough?”
“Will you offend them by asking?” She lifted her brows. “Me neither. It sounds as if they replenish often, but we’ll give them what we have in our packs, too.”
And try not to be embarrassed by the offering. The mare’s milk alone had been richer in flavor and more satisfying than anything she’d had aboard Ceres. Still, Nergüi and Terbish might enjoy the novelty of barbarian food at its worst.
The young man waited for them near a small ledge jutting out from the machine, and hauled himself up. “Come inside!”
He led them to an opening of a large pipe. More tubes lined the interior. Bent over at the waist, she followed Terbish inside. The pipe narrowed until they were crawling across the metal. Feeling squeezed from the outside in, Yasmeen forced herself to keep following the young man, and when there was no more light, following the sound of him.
“I think God is angry with me,” Archimedes grumbled in French. “My face is all but buried in your delectable ass, and I can’t see to enjoy a moment of it.”
Yasmeen laughed, then her palm encountered more metal—smooth, slightly warm. Unsettled by the unexpected texture, she yanked her hand back. Ahead, Terbish lit a lamp, and she found herself at the entrance to a small, spherical chamber, without enough room to stand. The walls were gray and looked softer than they felt.
Mechanical flesh.
Terbish ran his hand along the curving wall. “It has to grow, and it