The Iron Thorn - Caitlin Kittredge [130]
Dean nodded once. “Good.”
I reached forward and pushed the locks of hair from his eyes, smoothing them back into place. Dean leaned into the touch like a cat. “You’ve got soft hands, princess. Soft clever hands.”
“You’d get a lot further if you complimented my brains,” I teased. Dean straightened up from the wall and followed me inside.
“Oh, I plan to. I’m just taking my time so I can compliment everything the way it deserves.” Dean’s grin grew wider at my flush.
I’d never had that much male attention before, aside from stares and whispers, and I shied away from Dean’s searching gaze. “I need to not think about Cal for a while,” I told him.
“You and me both, princess.” Dean trailed me into the library. I knew where I needed to go before I put my hand on the switch, knew the only thing that could truly erase a rotten scene with someone I cared for.
“What do you say we take a look at that stuff we found in the workshop?” I asked.
A portable aether lantern threw more light on the workshop, and I set it on the dusty worktable while I perused the shelves.
Dean put on the goggles, tested them out by staring at the dead specimens under the glass. “This is boss. You know you can see through cloth with these lenses?”
I flipped a hand at him as he turned his gaze on me and waggled his eyebrows. “Stop teasing. You cannot.”
Dean pointed at the gun-shaped thing I’d examined before Tremaine had taken us into the Thorn Land. “Think it’s a disintegrator ray? Heard the Crimson Guard have them. Maybe we can aim it at that pale bastard Tremaine and solve all of our problems.”
I picked it up, feeling the heft of brass and mahogany in the stock. I looked down the silver sight at the end, behind the aether bulb on the tip. “I think this is an invigorator,” I said to Dean. “I’ve seen them in the Engine, when we’d study there.” This one was homemade, nothing like the square, blunt steel tools that the Engine workers used. Still, I’d never had the chance to use one and I ran my hands over it slowly, memorizing the machine.
“Yeah?” Dean said. “What’s it invigorate?”
“It’s for cutting steel and brass and things,” I said. “It can freeze or melt—the barrel vibrates the aether at such a frequency that it can go through all sorts of things.” I’d always wanted to use one, but girls weren’t allowed.
“Neat,” Dean approved. With the goggles, he looked back toward the dim library. “These things can even see in the dark.”
I set the invigorator gently back on the shelf. No use in cutting a me-sized hole in the side of Graystone if my finger slipped. “Too bad I can’t see Tremaine and his cursed hexenring sneaking up on me with them,” I muttered. I examined the diving helmet—it was attached to a bulbous bladder that leaked air when I squeezed it. The scrubbers attached at the front would recirculate the air for as long as the bladder fed it fresh oxygen. A dial on the side of the bladder went from zero to one hour. How I wished for time to explore the workshop at my leisure, but I knew I had none. It was a vast disappointment—exploring the workshop was my idea of a perfect afternoon. Machines made sense when nothing else did.
“It’s a real shame,” Dean said, “that you ever had to meet him. This right here”—he brandished the goggles—“this is magic. Machines, what you can do with them. That’s the truth of it.”
“Tremaine doesn’t feel the same as you,” I said, feeling the weight of the enchanted blue glass he’d given me in my pocket. I hadn’t wanted to leave it anywhere Bethina might snoop. “He thinks I’m so magic I can break a curse all the Folk can’t.”
In the old times, the shining times, Tremaine’s remembered voice whispered in my ear, we would gather at the Winnowing Stone and harness its great bounty to awaken the sleepers from their curse.
“But no magic born of Thorn can break the enchantment,” I whispered in answer.
Dean frowned at me. “You talking to me, princess?”
“No, I …” I pointed at the goggles in his hand. “What you just said.”
“It’s the plain truth, kid. Forget all of the Folk’s hand waving.