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Authors: Aimee Hyndman

Hour of Mischief (18 page)

BOOK: Hour of Mischief
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“If it’s something to do with mechanics, then it’s not too difficult for me,” Grant said proudly. “What do you need?”

“It’s just that when I was attacked I didn’t have any weapons on me,” I said. “I only had my arm and that put me at a disadvantage. I don’t want to be in that situation again.” I looked up at Grant. “So, is there any way for me to have a weapon of some sort fitted into my arm? A blade preferably. Because of . . . certain circumstances I think I should have a weapon on me at all times.”

Grant got this eager look on his face, the same look he got when I had asked if he could give my shoulder more motion or a way to make my fingers stronger. Nothing got a mechanic excited like a new project.

“I’m glad you asked.” He scurried back into the back room.

Itazura raised an eyebrow. “He
does
like machines. Are you sure he isn’t related to Artifex in some way?”

“Well, that would be difficult,” I said. “Considering he is a human and Artifex is a god.”

“No, it’s not so difficult,” Itazura said. “Maybe you don’t realize this but gods
can
procreate with humans. It’s not exactly encouraged but it happens, and since Artifex looks on humans so fondly, it’s happened quite a few times.”

My eyes widened. “I thought stories about the children of the gods were just rumors.”

“Of course,” Itazura said. “When a god has a child they are forbidden to contact them. That’s how we keep their existence a rumor. Mother and Father decided not to forbid us from human relations, but they compromised by saying we couldn’t have any dealings with our half-human children.” Itazura shrugged. “The child just ends up especially gifted in the domain their mother or father God governs. The only time it gets a little bit complicated is when the children start developing abnormal powers.”

“Like?” I asked.

“Powers only the gods should have,” Itazura said. “Children of Kalite sometimes are able to manipulate water. Children of Amontillado can turn things to gold just by touching them. And children of Celine are able to create night in the middle of the day. These abilities develop very rarely but when they do. . . .”

“What happens?” I asked.

“We have to get rid of them. Immediately.”

“Oh,” I said. “Have you ever had . . . um . . . children?”

Itazura laughed. “None that I know of. I’m generally very careful when I sleep with humans. I don’t think I’ve had any children. They aren’t exactly my area of expertise.”

I stared. “But you
have
had . . . relations with humans?”

“Why do you ask? Jealous?” Itazura leaned forward.

“No!” I shot back, though my cheeks got suddenly warm. Why did my cheeks get warm? I did not give them permission to do that.

“So defensive.” Itazura laughed. “And yes, nearly all the gods have had some relations with humans at one point or another. Even the more uppity ones who choose never to associate with them. They’ll never admit it of course. Though it is fun to tease them about it.”

“I’m sure Meroquio has loads of children.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Luckily, Grant came in at that moment to save me from the terrible images in my head. He held another case under his arm. “I just happened to start working with weapon implants recently. I don’t get a lot of vigilant squad customers but the ones who do stumble through my doors always need some kind of weapon fitted into their arm. A blade, a gun, or something else of that nature.”

He opened the case and took out the mechanical piece. I skimmed my flesh fingers along the surface. It felt bulkier than my usual forearm, but still lightweight. “With this arm all you have to do is press this here.” Grant pointed to a small button just below the palm of the hand. He handed the forearm to me. “Try it, but be careful. You don’t want to accidentally stab yourself.”

I nodded and pushed the button. Luckily, I had the arm pointing away from me because a blade shot from a compartment on top of the forearm. It was about a foot long and jutted out over the fist, creating a makeshift sword. The blade was razor sharp, shiny, and absolutely perfect.

“This is incredible, Grant.” I breathed. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Artifex
was
his father. Grant had such a way with machines. “This is just what I need. If you want money, I’ll pay.”

“You don’t pay for anything here, Janet. How many times have I told you?” Grant waved his hand dismissively. “Not to worry, I have other forearms with implants just like that one and I can easily make more.”

“Thanks.” I forced a smile. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited about getting an amazing, new arm. But I didn’t deserve special treatment from Grant. I never had. But as I’d learned from Parker, it’s hard to argue with a man who just never takes a breath in between sentences.

ou’re an interesting girl, little human,” Itazura commented when we had left Grant’s house.

“How so?” I asked, fiddling with my new arm, trying to get used to the new connection. My arm always felt a little weird after repairs. Sort of tingly. I had to move it a lot before the nerves fully settled.

“Most humans enjoy being praised for their courageous acts.” Itazura spun around to face me and continued walking backwards. “You flush bright red and try to ignore it entirely. Or you bite my head off.”

“So what?” I avoided his eyes.

“Well, considering you are a bit arrogant–”

“Look who’s talking.”

“–I wouldn’t think you’d be so opposed to praise.” Itazura shrugged and twirled back around. “You did save a boy’s life after all.”

I stopped walking, another spike of guilt shooting through my heart, sharp as the new blade attached to my arm. “That’s just how he tells it. He always leaves out an important detail.”

“Hmm?” Itazura stopped, looking back at me.

“I
did
save Parker,” I murmured, staring down at my steel hand. Sometimes when I squinted, I could almost picture it as skin and bones instead of circuits and metal, even though it had been years since I’d lost my real arm. “He set off an explosion in their old home. That idiot is always setting things on fire, and this happened when they lived in one of the slum complexes. You know those three-story buildings that cram way too many people inside?”

“Sure, I know them,” Itazura said.

“Well obviously, a fire in one of those buildings is bad news,” I said. “Most of the people got out of the building in time, including Grant. But Parker got trapped inside. I had gone to see about the fire because my mom couldn’t stop mumbling about it, and I wanted her to get some sleep. When I found the fire, Grant was standing outside, screaming for his son.”

I leaned back against an iron fence between an old soup kitchen that had closed down years back and a junkyard. Parker used to find scrap metal for his explosive inventions in scrap heaps like these. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just charged into the burning building. I can’t explain why.” I smiled bitterly. “Maybe I’m just idiotically impulsive.”

I paused, waiting for Itazura to slide in a snide comment, but he didn’t say a thing. He only raised an eyebrow and waited for me to continue.

“Anyway,” I said. “I found him on the third floor and I somehow managed to make it all the way up there without getting burned. The stairs hadn’t collapsed yet. That was a miracle. I found Parker upstairs on the floor, almost unconscious from the smoke intake. He had a few more explosives tucked under his body, like he was trying to smuggle them out first.

“Idiot pyromaniac.” I shook my head. “I grabbed him and threw him over my shoulder. Luckily he’s always been small for his age so it wasn’t too difficult. But when I reached the second floor someone else called out to me.”

Memories of that day came rushing back to me. I closed my eyes as if I could make them disappear but images continued to dance on the back of my eyelids. “It was a girl. Young. Maybe six-years old. Absolutely terrified. She didn’t know what to do or where to run. Her parents had abandoned her. So she called to me for help.”

I gritted my teeth. “I had Parker over my shoulder and I panicked. I didn’t think I could get her out too. So I told her ‘I’ll be right back. Wait here.’”

For a while, I couldn’t force myself to continue. My words lodged in my throat in a tight lump that made it hard to breathe. It had been so long since I’d talked about this. In fact, come to think of it, I’d only ever told Sylvia about that night. Not even Parker and Sid knew. I couldn’t fathom why I was talking about it now to Itazura.

This pact had started messing with my head.

“She didn’t want to wait. She reached out and grabbed my arm, trying to pull herself with me. But she was only weighing me down. The building was crumbling and I had to get out. I had to save myself and Parker. She kept on pulling at my arm and crying for help. I pushed her away. I yelled at her to wait and then I kept running. I left her there. I was stupid, thinking the building would hold up that long.

“I got Parker out and dropped him by his father. Then before he could thank me, I turned and tried to run back in. I reached the door just as the building collapsed.” I touched a hand to my metal shoulder. “A flaming beam fell on me. It landed on my shoulder and cut halfway through my arm. The bone shattered completely. In my shock, I barely felt the pain, but I would have burned to death or bled out or something if Grant hadn’t pulled me from the wreckage.”

I exhaled and finally opened my eyes again to stare blankly down at the ground. The cobblestones remained damp from the previous night’s rain. “He stopped the bleeding, helped me recover, and attached my first arm. All without anesthetic, but I can’t really complain. I’m lucky to be alive.” I looked up at Itazura. “He’s been giving me his services for free ever since then.”

“But you feel guilty for the girl,” Itazura murmured.

“Yeah.” I held my left arm up to the light. “I kind of hate this arm. Every time I stare at it for too long, I start remembering how I got it. I shouldn’t have pushed the girl away. I should have known.” I exhaled. “This arm is kind of my punishment. You know what they say. The Clockmaker has a nasty sense of humor.”

“I don’t think the Clockmaker took it upon himself to guilt trip you,” Itazura said. “Even in a world ruled by time, there is such thing as coincidence.”

I stared at him. “You really believe that?”

“Sure.” Itazura shrugged. “It would be very disappointing to me if everything was meant to happen exactly one way. Mischief doesn’t like being confined. The world is still full of choices, accidents, and delightful coincidences. You know that well enough, don’t you?”

“Sure I do.” I touched the small, fourhanded clock hanging around my neck. “But when I
do
walk outside the lines, it always comes back to kick me in the teeth.” My brow furrowed. “I became a thief to spread a little mischief and I landed all my friends in prison.” A finger tapped my forehead and I jumped, batting the hand away on instinct. “Hey!”

“Wipe off the long face, or it’ll freeze that way. You’ve been wrinkling your forehead way too much lately,” Itazura said.

“Why do you care?” I glared up at him, still holding a hand over my forehead.

“Because there’s no need for it,” Itazura said. “You
are
going to save your friends. And you’ll help the rest of humanity in the process. You really think I would have made a pact with you if I thought you would fail?”

BOOK: Hour of Mischief
4.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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