A/N - Thanks for the reviews that kept reminding me to finish this chapter! They really keep me inspired and enable to crank this out. Now, without further ado…
"Yes, your majesties," The strange creature wrung it delicate wire claws, its frail voice warbling above the quite chatter of the petitioners in line behind him, "The royal stores of gasoline are at an all time low. Not only because of the war preparations, but renegades in sectors five and six have been stealing shipments."
"And you say there is no trace of the thieves?" Machina asked doubtfully from his throne. I shifted uncomfortably on my own matching throne, wishing there was more cushioning. I have been sitting and receiving appointments with Machina for two hours now, and I couldn't feel my butt.
The small creature before us was composed of scraps of random appliances tied together with wire. A microwave served as the majority of its torso, pots for its upper arms and screwdrivers for its forearms. It shifted its bird like feet of bent coat hangers, "We have never gotten a visual on them, your majesty. We keep tracking the thieves into the tunnels, but loose them there. They cover their tracks very well."
"I see," Machina leaned back in an almost casual manner, considering. He had a way of making impossibly ridged chairs look comfortable. "I would like to speak to the being responsible for tracking the thieves and the manager for cargo security before the day is out."
Siri, the blond elf who helped me prepare for my wedding dress, turned out to be Machina's personal secretary. She lingered just beyond the dais of thrones, a silent shadow that seemed to be an extension of Iron King's will. I saw her make a phone call as soon as Machina finished his sentence, no doubt summoning the two people he just mentioned.
"Thank you for your concern, your majesty." The creature bowed deeply. Machina nodded, excusing him with a motion of his hand.
That was how my day went, fey after fey filing into the throne room to join the line, stepping forward to explain their situation, and being excused with the flip of a hand. Iron Knights guarding the door stood impressively still the whole time, I had no idea how they did it. I squirmed, trying to find new positions that felt comfy.
Machina glanced at me occasionally, making sure I was paying attention. Today was a job shadowing day - my duty was to keep my mouth shut and learn about the Iron Kingdom. Since Machina assigned that role for me, I did my best at first to not learn; I yawned noisily while a cyborg spoke of resource management, cleaned my finger nails while a hacker elf updated us on the newest manufactured war machines, prodded my bandaged arm concealed by my thick sweater when a wire spriggon spoke of taxes. To my satisfaction, this vastly annoyed Machina. His jaw clenched whenever I emitted an exaggerated sigh or showed some other bodily sign that yelled I'm no paying attention! Ha!
Despite my attempts to be annoying, I couldn't be aloof forever. When subjects bore news of murder, kidnapping, and other human like crimes and strife's, I paid very close attention, being more familiar and empathetic with these situations.
"Send the leaders of the Hexgens a message." He said both to Siri and the relieved android herder before him, "In the future, they must come to me if they have issues with their livestock. In the meantime, they must release the clock work horses they kidnapped, or I will cut off their supply of propane. If they try any of their illegal antics again, I will cut off their heads. Personally."
Machina was all imposing elegance and danger. When we first met on the top of the highest tower, he had used honeyed words to convince me to join him and a threat to seal the agreement. He wielded the same technique here, mixing reasonable words with a warning to get the results he wanted. He ruled with a deft and ruthless hand - a dance only an experienced, cunning leader could do.
"The oil well will not belong to your clan or their clan." He told a bristling elf with circuit green skin, "If neither side can negotiate usage rights, I will collapse the well. You have two days to strike a contract, or there will be no oil to fight over. It is time for you to learn how to cooperate with your neighbors rather than compete against them."
Those hours of listening to others problems could be broken into three stages - stage one: subtly annoy Machina. Stage two: genuine interest in the feys' plights combined with the confusion of not knowing what they were talking about or what the heck was going on. Stage three: Exhaustion. My stomach groaned from emptiness, my back ached against the unforgiving seat, and my head felt like a cup of water filled to the brim with knowledge. And I really, really needed to go to the bathroom. If I didn't get out soon, I'll be known as the incontinent queen.
A few seconds before I was about to risk Machina's wrath and excuse myself, it was over. No one else waited in line and Siri was punching in last adjustments to the appointment planner. The knights by the entrance were coming back to life, their gaits stiff as they exited the doors to take a well deserved break.
"Is it common for human leaders to pick their nails and noisily yawn while others speak to them?" Machina asked, standing. He didn't forget the first hour.
"Yeah." I yawned, not out of spite this time, but because I was genuinely tired. However, he didn't know that. He sighed with exasperation.
"You're done for the day. Same thing tomorrow."
I groaned. The thought of sitting by Machina all day, again, was horrid to put it mildly.
"Little queen," The Iron King turned around, glowering over me "I am not used to dealing with someone who shows such...impudence towards me. I have been very, very patient with you. If you keep finding ways to annoy me," He placed his hands on my arm rests, leaning towards me until our faces were only inches apart. I had to fight the urge to shrink back. "I will make your life vastly unpleasant. If you find it difficult to be civil with me or our subjects, just think of your family."
He straightened, and I could only glare venomously at his stoic face. I knew full well a sharp comeback would only result in a threat to my family. And truth be told, I didn't know when those threats would turn into actions.
It's strange how all my best ideas came to me in the shower. With the combination of free time and the need to process the day's events, it wasn't surprising that I found myself curled on the lead colored floor, thinking as the hot water drummed against my skin.
I survived a day with Machina. I should get a blue ribbon for such a feat. But, I'll have to do the same tomorrow. And possibly the day after that, and the day after that and so on … until I can get out of here. If my family was to remain unharmed in the time being, I would have to change tactics. I couldn't just keep hurling insults at him whenever I felt like it, justified or not. I didn't want to be cowed into submission, either.
But my pride is not worth Mom, Luke, or Ethan's safety. I huffed in frustration, vigorously scrubbing at my scalp before resting my forehead against my knees. Maybe I should focus my energy on more important things than being a thorn in Machina's side. I still have to escape. And I still had to help the rest of the Nevernever.
The conversation with the elder tree whispered back into my consciousness.
"What if I can't?" I had asked the elder dryad, "What if the Iron King truly is invincible?"
"Then we all die." She had said softly, fading back into her oak. I had been left standing there with the Witchwood arrow, the heart of the dryad's tree. She had given her life for my failure of a quest.
But maybe it's not too late to make things right. Maybe the shards hadn't been destroyed.
Maybe I shouldn't just be focusing on escape. Maybe it's not too late to kill him…
I didn't know what scared me more: trying and failing to kill someone who was invincible, or succeeding. Could I live with myself after becoming a murderer?
That's what it really came down to. Murder.
I didn't have time to think about it when I was first sent stumbling here. I didn't know Machina, and Ash was the one who would strike the fatal blow. If plan A had worked, I wouldn't be here and my consciousness would be clean as a white plate.
But now, I did know him. Not a lot, but enough to be horrified of taking his life, no matter how irritating and terrible he could be. Judging the way the petitioners reacted to him today, he was not just feared; he was respected and heavily admired. I wouldn't be just taking his life; I would be taking their ruler. Yeah, he's a jerk, but it doesn't change the fact he is good at his job and that everyone but me seems to appreciate him. I would be taking a piece of everyone's lives that relied on him.
I would be hated and hunted. I would be the bad guy.
I shuddered, uncoiling myself to shut off the shower. I shook off those dark ponderings, toweling my hair and brushing my teeth. The moral dilemma can wait for another day.
A voice was whispering me to hurry, that he would find her soon. I stumbled forward, following the voice before promptly swallowing a huge mouthful of steam. It felt thick and strange in my lungs as if I just smoked a pack of exotic cigars. Coughing and sputtering against the sensation, I staggered out of the cloud that enveloped me, only to stop short.
Woah.
At first, I thought I was in an underground forest taking the shape of a huge, cavernous tunnel, split down the middle by a river. Its water glowed Caribbean blue, looking more like a toxic spill really. But looking up, I realized I wasn't completely underground after all. A massive crack zigzagged above like an oversized reflection of the stream directly below it. Over cast clouds barely concealed an emerging sun. Large insects wheeled above, a butterfly the size of a diner plate swept over me, casting a huge, colorful shadow with its transparent red wings. Birds chirped from twisted silver trees, wire veins wreathed rocks in thick clumps, bearing glass flowers. I was in a monochromatic forest of graphite and shadow, splashed with vivid hues.
Where was I?
I drifted through the forest, following the river's edge until the trees thinned. They gave way to a rocky knoll. A lone tree stood at the top, a boy and girl with a robotic arm taking shelter underneath the whispering branches. The boy sat cross legged behind the girl, and it looked like he was intensely inspecting her neck.
With a jolt, I realized the boy was Machina. Same silver hair flowed loosely over his shoulders, cables still emerged from his back; but there was something totally different between this youth and the Iron King I knew. And it wasn't just the fact he looked younger… Curious, I approached them, their murmured voices carried by the slight breeze.
"Can you recite the quote you put on the west wing door yesterday?" Machina asked.
"A question that drives me hazy - is it me or the others crazy?"
"Nope." His brow furrowed. He picked up a wire cutter besides him, considering "But for the record, you're the crazy one."
"Hey! It's not my fault!" The girl squeaked indignantly. Machina laughed. Now that definitely did not sound like Machina. That laughter lacked the usual sharp, mocking edge. It was genuine.
"Could have fooled me … vandalizing everything with words of wisdom and what not..." He cut something in her neck. Alarmed, I floated behind his shoulder. I was instantly relieved and intrigued - he didn't cut into flesh, but a wire. The back of her head and neck were open, the skin splitting down the middle and open like a set of doors. It revealed a thick jumble of machinery - wires, colorful circuit boards of all shapes and sizes, and clear piping that held blue liquid. Machina grabbed a saudering pen amongst the tools that were spread out on a rock besides him, reattaching the fresh cut wire to a small purple circuit board with a curl of smoke. She didn't even flinch.
"How about now?"
"Oh! I feel wooooooonderful! Positively bashing Mecka!" She jumped up, the panels to her head snapping shut, seamlessly disguising itself as skin and hair once more. She started twirling like a ballerina, firecracker red lips bent into a smile of pure euphoria.
"Come back here Chrome." Machina beckoned to her abandoned perch, looking both exasperated and amused. "I still have to rewire your memory core, and now your limbic system has gone haywire."
"But I like this! Let us dance! Lets us have a ball!" She spun away from Machina's reaching hand. "Let's gather the finest of the fey to make party of a lifetime! Virus!" Chrome pranced down the knoll, shouting. "Virus! My greatest bosom buddy! Where is Virus when I need her? We must send invitations immediately!"
Machina stood, and I glided backwards to avoid his unfurling cables.
"Come back here brat!" He called to the figure now waltzing with an imaginary partner.
"Nevaaar!"
"Don't make me drag you back here!"
She paused, delirious mischief leaping in her black eyes. "Ahhh is brother-poos proposing a game of catch?"
"Chrome -"
"Catch me if you can!" She was off like a shooting start, bounding and disappearing into the trees. Machina stared despairingly after her a second, shrugged, then grinned. In that instant, I was hit with the sudden realization that they were like me and Ethan. Whenever I least expected it, he would whack me with a pillow, scream "You're it!" and then sprint away. Extremely annoyed from the ambush, I would take pursuit, capture that wriggling kid, slam dunk him onto the couch and tickle the crap out of him. No matter how hard I tried, it was impossible to stay irritated.
I felt the glamour Machina started pulling around himself, shimmering and powerful.
"You're going down!" He shouted. There it was again, that… thing… that made him so different from the king I knew now.
One blink he was there, and the next he was gone, leaving me alone on the little hill. Note to self - Machina moves at light speed. Running is futile.
Okay, but really, who is this guy? This Machina wasn't different just from his genuine smile or laugh. The Iron King I knew was brittle as autumn; it was laced through his harsh words, his mocking voice. It was a constant bitterness that edged his eyes and facial expressions. This… Machina I was seeing had none of these qualities. He was jovial and lighthearted, a lush summer compared to a dry autumn, if you will.
In this moment, he was carefree. Truly happy.
Like he never lost anyone he loved.
The scene blackened before me, and I felt myself drifting downwards, a leaf caught on gentle breezes. The blackness was strangely comforting. I alighted in a hallway, similar to the ones that traversed the Iron towers. Instead of the regular fluorescent lighting, however, a red luminosity bathed the metal passage.
I only took two steps before something slammed me against the wall with the force of a boulder. My back collided against cold wall, and before I could react, a forearm pressed against my throat and a body pushed against mine, effectively pinning me.
Silver hair brushed against my cheek when a familiar voice seethed in my ear. "I told you to stop probing my head, sorceress. I tire of your whisperings of fate. I have already decided my path of action." Machina.
"I'm-" I gasped before becoming completely noiseless, finding it impossible to utter more than a syllable with the pressure on my windpipe. I clawed at his arm, squirming against his bare chest, but it was pointless.
Bare chest? I flushed scarlet. He wasn't wearing a shirt.
"Now, why don't you show yourself? I'm eager to finally see who you are."
I'm invisible? Not invisible enough, apparently. Color bloomed me back into corporeal existence, leaving me red faced and glaring into dark stormy eyes.
"Meghan Chase?" He looked genuinely surprised, his arm going lax enough for me to take a greedy gulp of air.
"No, it's Jiminy Cricket." I rasped .
I thought I saw the worst of his death stares when I slapped him. But I was terribly wrong.
His eyes were hot black coals of rage, and I could practically feel them burn through my flesh, making me feel completely exposed and terrified. The red glow of the hall made his face truly demonic. The Iron King pressed his forearm against me once more, but lower so he wasn't choking me. I actually felt him tremble with barely suppressed wrath.
"Get. Out. Now." He bit between clenched teeth.
"I don't know how." My voice was a panicked whisper.
"GET OUT!" He bellowed.
I jolted awake, gasping. A cold sweat made my shirt cling uncomfortably to my skin. I was shaking, and my head ached. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm my rabbit heart before it decided to keel over and stop beating.
What the hell was that?
Still shaking, I went to the bathroom, splashing water on my face. Just a dream. I told myself, just a dream, no need to have a panic attack. But it wasn't just a dream. It felt real. Like the other ones I've had.
I snatched my Ipad from the nightstand, preparing to record the details before they escaped me. I didn't even start a sentence before my breakfast magically appeared on the table next to the door, along with a blank leather notebook and pen. Oh yeah, I forgot I asked for that. I placed the notebook on the bed stand.
My secretary texted me. The Iron King wanted me in his office as soon as possible. Dress in semi formal attire. Criminey, can I wake up first?
Dream diary is going to have to wait. I scarfed down my food, reluctantly throwing on a button up blouse and black slacks. I figured it would be more hassle than it was worth if I dressed in my standard t-shirt and jeans. He can win this battle.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and tucked the Ipad under my arm and was off. The journey to his office afforded my brain to wake up a little more. Okay, so I had one weird dream. More… interactive than the others, considering I was directly spoken to - well, more like yelled at. Well shit, is that why he wants me in his office so early? So if it held true, Machina is going to be super pissed today. As in, "lets hold Meghan's public execution and put her head on a pike" kind of mood.
I gave a tired nod to a mantis that skittered by, and it bowed. But is it even possible to be in someone's head? Maybe it was just a bad nightmare. I hope it was. I passed a quote to my left, absently trailing my hand over the carved letters.
"I loved him not for the way he danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of his name silenced my demons."
Something tickled my consciousness - a fact about the quotes, and the name Chrome. But it slipped my grasp, and I moved on.
When I entered his office, the sun was just peaking above the horizon, throwing honey dew rays across the king's quick silver hair. His hologram screen was suspended before him bearing numbers, graphs, and foreign figures. Without warning, the screen blinked out of existence.
Our eyes met.
"Good morning." He said quietly.
I stared at him, expecting a hostile threat about, I don't know, popping up in his dream? But his face was blank, betraying nothing. I crossed the room, sitting at my desk.
"Ah silence. I see you have learned a valuable trait overnight."
I narrowed my eyes at him. He was so calm and normal, like the whole thing never happened. Maybe it was all in my head.
"What am I supposed to be doing today?" I asked.
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded me with raised eyebrows. "And now you're eager to get to work? Are you sure you're Meghan Chase, queen of insults and general rudeness?"
"Would it make you happy if I insulted you?"
"It would be wise to keep those comments to yourself. I was merely observing your changed behavior."
"Great. Now if you're done observing can we get to work?"
He looked upon me a second longer before turning away, the hologram screen leaping back to life. "First, you can make a list of appointments. After you're done, I will start educating you about the Iron Realm."
I had to suppress my sigh of relief. He doesn't remember. Or I never was in his head, which is quite fine by me.
And so the day went on. Once I finished arranging appointments, Machina started educating me as promised. I learned that the Iron Realm was divided into thirteen different sectors, each with its own unique characteristics and mix of residents. They were arranged like a giant clock, sector twelve being the north, and sector six being the most southern. He changed the hologram on his desk to show a map so I could have a better visual. The Iron Tower is smack dab in the middle, the lands immediately around it considered sector thirteen. The others radiated out from it like the spokes of a wheel. Wire spriggons were mostly located in areas that bordered the unpoisoned Nevernever. Hacker elves were lived in sectors thirteen, one and two, and so on and so forth.
When it became apparent that I couldn't remember every little detail he taught me like a computer (due to a question I couldn't answer), he started asking me pop quiz questions. Whenever I got one wrong, he verbally ridiculed me.
"Would you like hearing aids? I specifically said 'Shiba clan is located in sector four', not five."
"It is pronounced 'Yi-yun-ChA-zo', not 'Yee-yang-chatz-o'. Do have any idea how offended a Kirin would be if they heard the name of their clan butchered like that? You would literally be starting a rebellion from your sheer stupidity."
I had to keep mentally repeating family over pride, family over pride. I am made of Iron. I can bite my tongue. For them. I had no idea why he demanded my corporation, and then when he finally got it, went into full blown jackass-bully mode. It was like he was purposefully provoking me.
He had only gotten a dent into the major clans of sector five when it was time to receive petitioners again.
They lined up, and I listened and learned more about the kingdom I was supposed to rule. At one point, a gremlin creature had scampered up to Machina, crawled up the
Iron King's body to the nape of his neck, and buried itself in silver hair so that only its green eyes were visible. Machina hardly paid him any attention, only giving him a quick scratch as a hacker elf explained a recent problem with an oil well. Judging by how the gremlin watched me warily, this was Razor, the critter that I kicked off my leg. We exchanged suspicious looks for a while, until we were both convinced the other wouldn't spontaneously attack the other. He went to sleep, cozy as a cat in a curtain of silk. Hours went by, Machina sorted problems left and right, and just when I was about to fall asleep like the gremlin, it was over. I barely made it to bed before I passed out in exhaustion.
The next day was the same. Wake up. Shower. Make appointments. Learn about clans in different sectors and simultaneously get insulted by sadistic teacher. Receive petitioners. Crawl to bed. The only eventful thing was that my bandage was removed at the end of the day, fully healed except for a thin scar, thanks to the Iron Fey's advanced medicine.
I wished it was the same routine the next day; however Machina noticed my healed arm. Things went into a downward spiral.
"Since you're healed," He said from his desk as I arranged meetings, "I think it's time to start your sword training again."
"No!" I blurted, spinning in my chair to face him. I was getting ridiculed enough as is. The thought of getting hit, shocked, and sliced on top of that was too much. I couldn't do it.
"Yes." He stated coolly.
"Not with you! You can shove that idea up your ass because it's not happening."
"Really now?"
"Really."
He traced his jaw line with his index finger as he said "Hmm, I wonder. When's the last time your parents checked the breaks on their car?"
"Don't. You. Dare."
"Then you better do what I say."
I made a choked, muffled growl of frustration, leveling a hostile glare that could combust wood at a short distance. He stared back, unruffled by my fury. I wasn't getting out of this.
After getting my daily lesson and dose of visitors with problems, I changed into sweat pants and a green short sleeve. It was time to get my butt kicked. Again.
It started off easy, for I got a sleek long bow and started to learn archery. It was simple enough concept - point and shoot. Despite its simplicity, it took quite a few tries to even hit the corner of the cardboard target that was set up. Machina was always impatiently correcting my form, grabbing my elbow and re positioning it whenever its angle was a minuscule off, snapping at me to keep my posture straight and to focus on form, not aim. Accurate aiming comes naturally only once when I mastered technique, he said. It was something that had to be learned through repetition and wasn't physically demanding. Sword training was a different matter.
"Too slow." He said as he swiftly disarmed me. "One… Two…" I dove to the ground to retrieve my sword before he could shock me, rolling up into a defensive pose. By 'three' I was frantically defending myself, metal screeching on metal as he stabbed at my neck. In a couple of swift moves, he swept my legs from underneath me, toppling me face first into the ground. I barely had time to break my fall, and my face bit into the sharp gravel. I tasted blood and metal. Pain erupted in my nose.
"One… Two…Three…" I couldn't recover on time. A shock ripped into my unprotected back. I yelped in agony. Somehow I was able to scurry to my feet before he could electrocute me again. I charged him madly, anger and pain blurring my vision as I swung my sword at his face. He blocked me, almost flippantly. His foot connected with my sternum, staggering me back until I tripped onto my rear.
"You'll get nowhere if you attack out of blind rage and not technique. One…two…"
It's surprising how adrenalin can keep one moving. I rolled to my feet, blocking the incoming strike. Blood dripped from my nose, mixing with sweat and grime. But there was no time to wipe it away. There was only this. Blocking. Retreating. Getting kicked, shoved, and pummeled to the ground. Recovering. And when I couldn't do it fast enough, a terrible shock.
When a particularly harsh knee to my stomach left me sprawling, I was done. I couldn't move. Even when the electricity eagerly sprang into my side, I couldn't budge. My vision turned dark for a second, and I thought I would pass out. I wish I did. Another shock tore into me. I half screamed, half sobbed, curling into a ball. Sweat stung me eyes, the taste of blood a heady presence in my mouth.
A boot was placed on my shoulder and pushed, rolling me onto my back. I gasped and gulped for air. Pebbles dug into my head and sweat soaked back. Tears made the yellow sky above me blurred.
The Iron King knelt, using his sword to prop his right arm. He looked untouched, not even a dot of perspiration marred his fey-perfect complexion.
"Is that all you got? How pathetic."
I could only gulp more air. My arms shook viciously from fatigue. He shifted his weight, grip loosing on the hilt. For a second, it looked like he would pick me up and carry me off to the medical ward like last time. But his grip tightened, and he stood gracefully.
"Same thing tomorrow." He said down at me, and with a flap of his long black jacket, he was gone. I was there for a while, staring at the sky as if it could ease my pain. But it didn't.
An hour or so later, I staggered to my bedroom and into the shower. It was nothing short of a miracle to have made it this far. The hot water kneaded out the knots in my body, washed the dirt clean. I dug some band aids and Neosporin out of a drawer and dressed my wounds. My nose was tender and possibly bruised, but thankfully not broken. I crawled into bed despite my complaining muscles, exhausted and emotionally tattered. I could take Machina's insults, but this? Can I do this every day? I don't know how long I can last before something inside me breaks. But I don't have a choice. I have to do what Machina wants if my family were to remain safe. I have to get out of here…
But.
How can I do that when he has my family hostage?
He can easily demand my return in exchange for their safety.
And if I don't come back…
He could kidnap them and drag them into this realm of insanity.
…Or hurt them terribly…or both…
For the first time in what felt like a while, I curled into a ball, allowing a wave of hopeless despair to wash over me. I balled up my comforter and cried into it. Just escaping was wishful thinking. Not with my family on the line.
I had to kill Machina.
There was no other way…
It was the only way to fulfill my contract with Ash.
To stop the impending invasion.
To save my family from danger.
The wracking sobs that seized my body slowly shuddered to a stop after a good five minutes. I rolled onto my back, clutching the soggy sheet beneath my chin, taking deep shuddering breaths until they became even. The certainty of what I had to do give me a chilling calm. I stared into the darkness, and I felt almost comforted by the black - nonjudgmental, impassive to my horrifying decision to kill. Perhaps it was time to embrace the concept of doing terrible things to ultimately do the right. To get your hands dirty for the greater good. I have to do what the dryad sacrificed herself for me to do. What so many others needed me to do.
Before sleep took me, the dark, remorseful strains of a piano song floated though the air vents.
The next day was the same as the last. When he lectured me of politics and regions, I welcomed the occasional yet scathing insult. I needed this, like a masochist needs the bite from the sadist. I never liked Machina, but now I had to hate him, enough so that I can do what was necessary. The thought of what I had to do felt too dark and twisted to think about in the daylight, so I just focused on the basics - hate to fuel my drive. He made it super easy.
The days started to blur together, a never ending cycle of politics and fighting. New scrapes, scars, and bruises formed over my body. Machina was ruthless in every way, with words and sword training, never showing pity. He didn't even slow down when I was too sore to raise my arms two inches. Drawing the string back on the bow became nearly impossible. Neosporin wasn't enough; I had to appeal to the medical ward to be injected with that anti-soreness serum and have a special healing balm applied to my small yet multiple wounds. I kept a canister next to my bed, and soon on my person at all times. I could only desperately hope that Tertius would return soon to give me a plausible escape route from this tortuous training.
One day, Machina thought it was time for me to solve a few of the petitioner's easier disputes. A mechanical Kirin had an issue with its neighboring tribe stealing propane. After watching and learning from Machina for about two weeks now, it was easy.
"I will speak the leader of the Furtim tribe before the day is out." I could see Siri from the corner of my eye, her cell phone already at her ear. "I will make sure they reimburse you for any loses and to face the other repercussions for their antics. I will negotiate a more effective ways for them to retain resources so they don't steal from you in the future." The Kirin's cloven hooves clicked against the floor as it bowed deeply. "Thank you, your majesty."
I gave it a nod, trying not to grin too stupidly. Hey! That wasn't so bad! I totally just dealt some justice! And I didn't stutter! I sounded so cool!
I couldn't help but sneak a glance at Machina to see his reaction. Razor was a lump in his hair, but the ruler looked totally unimpressed. Well, he didn't insult me or give me a murderous glare, so that was something.
I solved a few more issues, Machina smoothly stepping in whenever the issue was more complex, like war preparations. Everything was going fine until a pair of guards escorted a miserable figure before us.
"Ah. I was wondering when I would see you again, Callidus." The Iron King drawled. Razor stirred, hopping from his hiding place and scurrying away like an animal sensing an oncoming storm.
The guards walked the hacker elf forward. He was a sorry sight, red air tangled and unruly like it hadn't been brushed in days, black grease smudges swiped across his forearms and blackened the bottoms of his hands. His nose twitched like a rat.
The elf bowed uneasily. His hands trembled. "Greetings, your majesties. This is an unexpected summoning. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Callidus," Machina smiled, and it was not a pleasant one. It made me skin prickle with unease. "My sources say that you have been up to no good. Care to elaborate?"
"No good?" The elf repeated, wringing his hands, "What do they mean?"
"Callidus, doesn't your name mean clever in Latin?"
"Yes, your majesty."
"I'm afraid you don't live up to the name, for a clever being would never have been caught twice with their hand in the royal coffers."
"Please, your majesty, there must have been a mistake. I have many enemies who aspire to see my downfall."
Machina stood, all lethal grace and intent. The very air held a menacing, yet subtle, electrical charge to it. "The only mistake I see is your inability to cover your tracks properly. This is the second offense, and your almost clever brain must remember my warning if such an event would occur."
Callidus paled, his hands knitting and unknitting frantically as the King approached "Please! Your majesty I beg you! There must be a mistake!"
"I think not."
The elf took an instinctive step back, but the guards grabbed his elbows, forcing him to his knees.
"What are you doing?" I said, my voice rising in alarm.
"An execution, my dear."
"PLEASE!" Callidus shrieked in panic, helplessly struggling in the guards grasp. "My queen! Please!" His eyes of scrolling code beseeched mine, a desperate mouse caught in a trap.
"Are you seriously going to kill him, right now?" I snapped incredulously, starting to panic myself.
"Why yes, yes I am. That was the deal - if he was to skim from the royal treasury again, I was going to behead him. Personally. As it turns out, he has repeated the crime and I'm in the mood to make an example out of him.
"My queen!" Callidus wailed, "My sweet, merciful queen! Please, give me another chance! This is madness!"
"I..." My mind raced to think of a way to save him, "the crime doesn't fit the punishment. He should be jailed, not executed."
"What has been said has been said. I will not go back on my words." Machina shoo-ed the guards away, taking a fistful of red matted hair to hold the squirming fey in place as he stood behind him.
"No! Nononononono!" Callidus sobbed, his face crumpling like paper.
"What the hell Machina! Doesn't he need some kind of trial first?" I stood angrily, "This is not an execution chamber!"
"This room is where law is carried out, and this is the law." The Iron King held out his free hand, and one of the guards unsheathed their sword and placed it in his palm. "Normally, I would make you do this; however what's said has been said, so I am to be the executioner this time around. We are heading to war, Meghan Chase. It's about time you experience some bloodshed, to see the life drained from a living being until he is no more. His life forever extinguished, doomed to perish with no hope of an afterlife." Callidus was sobbing hard now; the king positioned the sword above the tender flesh of the elf's neck. "It's a most delightful experience."
I took a step forward, reaching out as if I could snatch the weapon from the kings hands in the nick of time, "Don't - "
Machina's lips curved into a humorless, bloodthirsty smile. His eyes never left mine as he slowly sliced open Callidus' neck. The chamber filled with a terrible howl of pain, for the cut was shallow, not enough to kill. Blue-black blood poured from the wound. I screamed something in horror. With a step to the side and a swift, decapitating movement, Machina separated Callidus' head from his body. Dark, oily blood gushed angrily from the stump that used to be a neck, the body collapsing to the floor, convulsing for a moment before becoming completely still. Machina held the head up to eye level, regarding the fey's last expression of despair with idle satisfaction.
I covered my face to block the gruesome image. The abrupt absence of the man's crying was deafening. I stormed off the dais, past an impassive Siri, and through a side exit.
All I could hear and see was Callidus, begging to be saved. I numbly pushed open another door. Someone had relied on me to save them, and I failed. And Machina enjoyed it, from the life he ended to my helpless pleas. I let the monster take his prize. The shock and horror that coursed through my body concentrated into a hard, cold weight in my rib gut.
The thought of stabbing a jagged piece of wood through the Iron King's chest didn't seem bad after all.
Thankfully, Machina didn't drag me back for a training session that day. Perhaps he was having too much fun executing others in more extravagant ways, or making war plans, or had no desire to be around someone who wanted to gouge his eyes out. Either way, I was glad I wasn't around him. A certain restless fueled my legs, and a new determination pushed me to explore new places and develop an innovative plan for a getaway. I had been so preoccupied and exhausted with my new responsibilities that I haven't given much thought about assassinations and escape routes. Witnessing an unreasonable death was a wakeup call to get my butt in gear. Machina had to be defeated.
It also provided a much needed distraction from the morose failure I was feeling. Eventually I found myself on the top of the highest tower again. The fountain creaked ominously, the rusted gears churning in the polluted water. For the first time, I noticed something scrawled on the lowest rotating cog -
Eleutheromania - (n) an intense and irresistible desire for freedom
I casually strode forward, habitually scanning the area for any iron fey. Only the various mechanical wildlife could be seen and heard, a few giant mosquitoes wheeled hundreds of feet above my head, iron bodies glinting in the dull sunlight.
Hmm I wonder…
I started shuffling around the courtyard, finding the place where Machina had summoned the trod to send Ethan home. The stone looked seamless, as if a portal had never emerged from it. Machina wasn't the only one who was able to summon a trod, Tertius was able to do it. Maybe there was some way I could raise one, too.
I sank to the ground, gingerly crossing my legs and shifting my weight around until I found a somewhat comfortable position. Closing my eyes, I raked my tired brain on everything I knew about glamour. I had to believe I was able to do it. I think I can I think I can! Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes. I saw Callidus' headless body twitch on the cold ground. Wincing from the still vivid memory, I pushed it to the side, almost angrily. Focus. I tried to send my consciousness into the ground. Blank stone and rusty metal met my probing mind. I pushed deeper which gave me a false sense of falling, the sense of vertigo clenching my stomach. I met a web of wires and pipes. Below that… there. A faint flicker of life. So small and delicate, I wasn't sure if it was real. I tried coaxing it like a small fire, and it responded, albeit dully, like it was sleeping. I was about to poke it again, but I felt someone watching me.
I took a sharp intake of breath, jerking myself out of my reverie. A somewhat familiar figure looked down at me.
"May I join you?" a bemused boy about my age asked, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his ripped jeans. I was immediately on guard, recognizing him as the first lieutenant I met at the wedding. I couldn't help but worry if he planned to drag me back to the royal wing, under the impression that I was attempting another escape.
"Sure." I ventured cautiously.
He gave be a quick smile before gracefully sinking to the ground beside me. "What are you doing here?" Glitch asked conversationally, fiddling with a hole in his pants.
"Sitting." I stifled a yawn
"And trying to use some of that power?" He prompted, looking a little too interested.
"Sure." A pause. Sensing my lack of enthusiasm, he cleared his throat, running a hand through his spiky hair so that it popped with electricity. He readjusted the goggles on his head, making a few strands of unruly hair poke straight up.
"You look pretty beat up."
I barked a laugh, "I didn't notice."
"You look a lot like me when Machina started training me." Despite my animosity for the teacher/executioner, Glitch's words piqued my interest, if only slightly.
"He trained you?"
"Yeah, when I first came here." His violet eyes looked into the distance, seeing into a different time. "He was still the first lieutenant then. He was the one that found me. Would you like to hear a story?"
I shrugged. I didn't care to know the Iron King's personal life, but maybe I could learn a weakness of his. Information was power. "Yeah, go ahead."
"I was a rogue fey, as they called it. More electricity than anything else. Just a giant ball of crackling energy that swept through the land and destroyed anything in my path." He motioned with his hands, as if he was holding a ball of electricity himself. "I had no emotions, no sympathy for anything that got in my way. I was born a monster, and followed destructive instincts. No one could stop me, until Ferrum finally had enough and sent his best to kill me."
Glitch yanked out a stray string in his jeans, twirling it around a calloused finger. "Machina found me easily enough. I fought hard and desperately, knowing what would happen if I lost. I was pretty good if I do say so myself. At one point I almost won, or at least I thought I did. But Machina gave me a royal ass kicking, as you should be familiar with." He smirked as his eyes met mine. I sighed at his friendly teasing before he continued.
"When I was a crumpled mess on the ground, bloodied and beaten into submission, I was sure I was going to die. I really thought those were my final moments, and that Machina would simply behead me. That was when I felt my first emotion - fear. I didn't understand it." He didn't try to hide the wonder and awe in his voice. "I'm not sure if you understand your majesty, but the first time of feeling an emotion is an incredible experience. Humans take it for granted, but the ability to feel something past a physical level is quite remarkable. Not all Iron Fey can have this gift."
Fascinated, I looked up at him, my neck muscles softly reminding me that I was still incredibly stiff from yesterday's sword fighting, "Are all the Iron Fey born without emotions?" I asked.
He shrugged, "Some are born with or without it. If they are born without emotions, they sometimes have a chance developing it later. The Iron fey are constantly changing and evolving since human progress is so rapid. These days, unless you count the bugs of course, most of the fey have evolved to have some range of emotion."
"What do you mean range? Are there specific things they can't feel? " The thought of not being able to feel certain things, like fear or happiness, was totally weird to me. "Wait, if the fey were born from lifeless computers, technology, and logical thinking, what makes them have emotions in the first place, anyways?"
"You forget about the passion of mathematicians and scientists. Did you know that back in the day, people did math for fun? Just think: have you ever seen a scientist talk about the things they study? They practically reek of excitement. If I could make a guess, I'm pretty sure that passion for knowledge and learning enabled the Iron Fey to have emotions. Also, Artificial Intelligence is moving in a direction that would allow it to have some emotions, but that's a whole different story." Glitch shifted his weight, "As far as the range of emotions, it depends on the complexity of the life form. Some take medium sized insects, for instance. They can't feel more complex things like love or envy. They do however; feel fear, since it's basic and useful for self preservation. Then take things like me and Virus for example - we feel love, envy, and loyalty, fairly similar to the way humans do."
"As I was saying," He continued, returning back to his original story, "Machina had me at sword point, and I was terrified. He must have sensed it, because he knelt beside me and studied me for what seemed like eternity. I couldn't meet his eyes; I thought he was playing me before he killed me."
"He asked me if I was afraid. I finally looked up, surprised that he was even talking to me. I managed to say a yes, expecting that to be my final moment. But I was astonished again when he said 'good' and asked if I wanted to live. Of course I said yes. As desperate as I was for a second chance at life, I swore loyalty to him. I was too beat up to move or even walk, so he carried me himself for miles back to the tower and laid me at Ferrum's feet." Even though Glitch was bound by his words, I could easily see that his loyalty had grown deeper than a simple distressed vow. Machina had grown on him.
"He told Ferrum that he would kill me if he still commanded it, but wanted to be heard out before doing so. Machina and…" Glitch stopped, looking briefly uncomfortable as if he caught himself from dispelling something he shouldn't. He pressed on before I could question him. "He always thought of Machina as a beloved son before he went mad, so he heard him out. Machina defended me, saying that I had great potential as a powerful solider. Ferrum was doubtful due to my previous chaotic nature, but he let Machina convince him that I was useful. He took personal responsibility over my training."
I caught the glimmer of determination in Glitch's eye as he relived the moment, "And then the training began. He was brutal teacher. He taught me the way he is teaching you, although I have to say he used a few more wicked techniques that you haven't seen. With his way of teaching, I learned faster than any of the other knights, and became a lot more powerful than any of them. He pushed me to my limit every day, even to the point of flaring out once." He chuckled, "its how I earned the name Glitch."
"What's flaring out?" It felt like it was a stupid question, but I had to ask it anyway.
"Flaring out is something physically explosive that used to happen when I lost control of my temper. I suppose you could say I 'short circuited'. After the initial explosion of electricity, I just 'glitched' and froze for a good day like a computer, except there was no power button to restart me."
"Do all Iron Fey explode when they lose their temper?" I asked in growing alarm, wondering if all those bickering fights with Machina had been near death experiences.
The lieutenant laughed at seeing my concern, "Are you finally afraid of pissing off Machina now?"
I glowered at him, waiting for an answer. "No, you don't have to worry about Machina accidently electrocuting you to death with his temper." He snorted, amused by the thought no doubt, "It rarely happens, and how it happens really depends on the individual. Only new born, powerful, short tempered and unstable Iron fey are capable of a flare out."
I leaned back, inspecting him with new eyes, "So are you a powerful, short tempered, unstable new born?"
"I used to be," He admitted, "So was Virus for that matter, although I never saw her flare out in person. She was in control of her powers before I met her, thankfully." I tried to imagine an enraged Virus, thinking of the insect tornado she was capable of summoning. The thought of a larger, explosive, and uncontrolled hurricane with an enraged Virus in the middle made me thankful that I didn't see it in person either.
"I'm older now, so it's not a problem anymore. And Machina has never flared in my living memory. He has always been the most disciplined among us." He added reassuringly.
I relaxed a little bit at that. Glitch shifted around so he faced me more. He plucked another stray sting from a hole in his jeans. "I don't usually open up like this your Majesty, and I know it's weird considering we only saw each other twice." He said honestly, "But your subjects have been talking, and it's easy to see you and Machina have some kind of problem going on. Today's incident was evidence enough to confirm everyone's' suspicions. It's none of my business, I know, but your subjects are a little uneasy about going to war under leaders who aren't united."
Apparently, our antagonism was no big secret, even when I have been doing my best to be compliant for my families' sake. "Trust me, I've been trying to get along, but he makes it nearly impossible. He insults and threatens me constantly. And now he wants to kill people in front of me." I muttered
"Hmm" Glitch frowned, "I'm not an expert on your situation, but Machina has never been the one to be difficult for no reason. He never gives someone the death sentence idly - he always has a good reason and evidence. If you ask him, I'm sure he'll explain why the elf had to die." I thought of Quintus, the knight who spoke against Machina when we first met. The king barely gave a thought when he speared him through the chest with a lethal cable. Really? I didn't know words were a good enough reason for a spontaneous death sentence. I didn't voice my doubt, and Glitch continued, unaware how ironic he sounded just then.
"The point I'm trying to get at is that Machina is not the bad guy. I know just saying that is not going to change your mind, but I just wanted you to know that he has done good things, even though it doesn't feel like it at the time. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him, and neither would Virus since she went through a similar experience as me. He has a tendency of seeing potential in people that they can't see themselves, and helps them cultivate it." He looked at me pointedly then.
"I don't suppose you know what grand potential he's trying to cultivate from me?" I retorted, trying to picture Machina as a loving teacher, and failing miserably.
He shook his head, his hair faintly crackling with the movement, "He has studied you for a while, perhaps he sees the beginnings of a great ruler for the Iron Realm when the war starts and things get hectic. He hasn't actually been specific about your role; he's always very vague when it comes to you. Machina has something up his sleeve, that's for sure." Great. Even his first lieutenant doesn't know how Machina intends to use me. The secrecy of it all made my skin prickle with unease. I looked to the fountain, remembering the word inscribed in it.
"Why are there quotes everywhere?" I asked, changing the subject.
When an immediate answer didn't come, I took a peek at Glitch, who had gotten very silent, as if remembering something unpleasant.
"Someone who had an affinity for words and quotes put them there." He finally responded.
I noticed he used the word 'had' rather than has, like they weren't here anymore. "Do you know who they were?"
"I did at one point your majesty, but she's long gone." He stood up, "I'm sorry your majesty, but may I excuse myself? I originally came here to pick up my glider. I have an appointment with sector five today."
"Sure, go ahead." I eyed him, suspicious of his sudden unwillingness to talk.
Glitch stood and bowed, heading up a flight of stairs that lead to the top of the short wall that surrounded the courtyard. He held out his arms, and one of those giant mosquito things that were circling in the sky dove down.
The thing, to my horror, landed behind him, then crawled up his back, reminding me of some creepy parasitic alien thing. He didn't mind though, sliding his goggles into position while the thing wrapped its sets of legs around his torso.
The lieutenant turned towards me, "Want to come with?" He shouted, grinning at my mortified expression. "It's real easy to get one."
"No, I'd rather stay on the ground."
"You're missing out you, your majesty!"
He gave me a salute. And then fell backwards out of sight.
I might have panicked - those things didn't look safe at all - but I heard a joyous whoop rather than a wail of doom, so I knew the adrenaline junky was fine.
I looked to the fountain again, tickled by a memory. Something about the name Chrome and quotes, but for the life of me I couldn't remember more.
That night, I was plagued with nightmares. I was in the throne room, Callidus on his knees, Machina besides me. The scenario of his death kept replaying, over and over, and each time I fought a way to change the events. All the while, a voice as light and harmonious as tinkling bells urging me to hurry, that time was running out and he would find her soon. It didn't make sense. It was like listening to two different songs at the same time, their beats and rhythms sometimes matching weirdly, and then completely clashing to create a cacophony that filled me with confusion. Who is this "she"? There was no "she" in this situation, what could it possibly mean?
Ignoring the voice, I tried to reason with Machina, tried to kill him, even tried to exchange my life for the elf's, but it always ended with the same result - Callidus always died, throat either slit, a cable through the gut, or completely severed in half. I was only aloud a moment of despair before I was sitting on the throne once more besides Machina. Callidus was before us once more, nose twitching nervously as he said "Greetings, your majesties. This is an unexpected summoning. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The voice would start whispering me to hurry, and it would start all over again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Until I found myself in a thick fog. Ahead of me, a huge shape loomed. It looked like a massive oak.
I walked towards it, the fog a slow motion whorl that ebbed and flowed like insubstantial water. The mist gave way to an ocean, or perhaps a large lake that lapped against the stone tumbled beach. The oak was the color of mirror, the roots like silver snakes slithering into the water. I stood beside it, and its presence felt familiar. From the corner of my eye, it looked like Machina, but whenever I fully looked at it, it was always a silvery tree.
I trudged over to a large rock that jutted into the water, plunking down. Silence for a while, nothing but the sound of liquid gently pushing itself against stone. This place could almost be peaceful. Almost. But it felt heavy with unspoken words and regrets, a secret that could be felt but not known.
"I'm sorry, you know." Machina's voice murmured. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to hear him. I didn't bother looking behind me, knowing that I would only see a tree. A red, round fruit surfaced from the water. I grabbed it, lifting it up to inspection. It was a pomegranate, the surface dripping wet ruby.
"I'm sorry, too." I whispered. I dug my short fingernails into the firm skin, ripping open the fruit like it was ripe, beating heart.
When I found myself in Machina's office once more, I was surprised and utterly relieved to see that he wasn't there. But it was weird. I had grown accustomed to the slight electrical buzz that played along my skin in his presence, and its absence made my skin super sensitive. The room felt twice its size and utterly hollow. Machina was always waiting for me… maybe something happened.
I settled in to arrange appointments and review the ones that were scheduled for today. The familiar motions of clicking and typing sounded louder than usual. I searched for a music site, clicking a random playlist and blasted some techno. I grinned, slightly euphoric as I spun in my chair. You know, this was actually quite nice. I could definitely get used to having an office by myself. No one looking over my shoulder, I could listen to whatever I want, I wouldn't be badgered by Machina… the list can go on and on.
My phone gave a cheerful chirp that meant I got a text message. It was Siri, saying that Machina is busy and will return when it was time to receive petitioners. Today's lesson would be emailed shortly. Ha! This day is already looking better.
But I shouldn't get too excited. I checked my email, which contained a link to the most boring site in existence. Law. When Machina lectured me about regulations and procedures, it was hard enough to stay awake. Reading it? Impossible.
I had gotten to the page labeled "Search and Seizure Protocol." When I couldn't help but take a quick cat nap. I was dreaming of a voice whispering me to hurry before I was jolted awake by my phone. Petitioner time. Groggy and hoping that I wouldn't be tested on the material that I didn't read, I headed over.
There was no trace of yesterday's execution. The floor was perfectly clean, and the spot where someone had lost their life remained unchanged. I don't know what I expected; obviously the body and the blood would have been removed. It felt like he should have left a trace of his existence where he lost it, like a smudged of grease or a red strand of hair. What would happen if Machina died? No, I corrected myself, when he dies, would he be swept away, replaced by a new ruler and forgotten like Callidus?
I settled into my throne just as Machina entered, sweeping in with a long woolen grey jacket that flapped around his legs. I glared at him, but he didn't even glance in my direction. His stoic face was carefully arranged to be an unreadable mask, but after spending two full weeks with him I was able to detect the slightest pucker of his brow. He was distracted by something. The doors creaked open and our subjects shuffled in.
Machina and I shared the load of issues, picking up a silent form of communication. Whenever there was a problem he liked to solve, he would speak first and vise versa. We effectively ignored each other and worked together simultaneously.
At the end of the session, when my back started aching and my day dreams consisted of a bathroom and a nap, Siri's quiet voice reached my ears.
"Your majesties, we have one more guest with important news."
As soon as she said those words, a cloaked figure strode through open doors, followed by strange creatures that consisted of twisted wire and appendages that ended in razor sharp claws. They moved jerkily, reminding me of puppets, but I didn't doubt their lethal abilities. The visitors cloaked billowed behind him, shedding a layer of dust and revealing the insect like armor used by knights. He clutched a scepter that pulsed blue-white light, radiating small vines of ice that crawled up his metal bracer. The eerily winter glow of the staff caught the familiar glimmer of gun metal eyes, and my heart fluttered in my rib cage like a demented dragon fly.
Tertius.
A/N - Things will start picking up after this chapter. Shit will hit the fan. In a good, non literal way. Also, apologies for those who wanted Meghan and Machina to kiss. I tried it out for funsies, but it didn't quite make sense in the content of this chapter. After all, Meghan has to hate him for the sake of plot. So you guys only get the image of shirtless Machina pinning her against the wall.
But fear not, nothing is set in stone and is in constant change. Scrumptious things have been planned. But will these things happen between her and Machina, Tertius, Puck, or Ash? I don't know!
Reviews and suggestions highly appreciated for muse fuel. Over and out.