Jovah's Angel (23 page)

“So I figure we'll be stopping for firewood pretty often,” he said. “Which is why I configured the stove to burn anything. Who knows what we'll come across for fuel?”

“Who knows, indeed?” Caleb echoed. “Maybe if we get desperate, we can burn our clothes.”

Noah grinned. “They wouldn't take us very far.”

“Do you have to stop every time you refuel?”

“If you're using oil, probably. But for wood and coal—see, the stove is close enough to the passenger compartment for the riders to feed in more fuel.”

“Oh, delightful,” Caleb said. “I'm sure that's the job Delilah will want to volunteer for.”

“Well, I figured you and I—”

“Could take care of that part when we weren't driving. I guessed that. But tell me, how were you planning to make this fabulous journey if I hadn't agreed to go with you? Since clearly the Beast is a two-man operation.”

Noah grinned again. “Well, I would have bribed one of the
mikele
to come with me,” he said, using the Edori word that
meant young boy. “He could have handled the refueling part, though I wouldn't have let him drive. But once you said you'd go—”

“A little free slave labor.”

“Hey. All in the interests of scientific advancement. So what do you think? Are you impressed?”

“Dumbfounded,” Caleb said. “It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen. And the noisiest—”

“You're just jealous,” Noah replied, unruffled. “Because you couldn't even begin to know how to put the whole thing together.”

“Wouldn't have wasted my time on it.”

“Yeah, gone off and tried to make angel wings instead. That's something that'll get you far, trying to learn to fly.”

They bantered a bit more as Caleb continued to inspect the car. He had to admit, Noah had done an excellent job of selecting and fitting his materials, considering they were all cannibalized from other projects and never intended for use in a self-propelled motorized land vehicle. He asked a few more questions about parts and fuel and climbed throughout the interior to get a feel for the inside dimensions, but Noah was right: Caleb could not have improved on this particular project.

“So when do we leave?” he asked, descending cautiously. He could see already that getting in and out of the high compartment would take a certain amount of practice, at least to accomplish gracefully.

“I figure it will take us five days to get there. So maybe we should allow a week. In case of breakdowns or mishaps, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

“The Edori conference is in twelve days. So we should leave early next week to allow plenty of time.”

“Have you got a route mapped out?”

“More or less. The difficulty is finding a way that offers water and fuel for the whole trip. I also want to stay away from the main roads, because I don't think we'd be popular company. So we'll be camping most of the way.”

Caleb nodded. “How often do you have to add water?”

“About as often as you add fuel.”

“That could be a problem. Unless you follow the coastline.”

Noah shook his head. “Seawater's a last resort. The minerals clog up the steam lines. But in an emergency it will work.”

“Can we carry water with us?”

“Some. But once we run out of water—”

Caleb smiled swiftly. “We'll have Delilah pray for rain.”

A quick frown crossed Noah's dark face; then he decided to ignore the joke. “I've got half-a-dozen Edori who've agreed to follow us with extra horses. They've got my map—plus, it won't be hard to follow our tracks. They'll only be a day or two behind us. Worst case, we wait for them and go on by horse.”

“Sounds as workable as it can get,” Caleb observed. “I'm almost looking forward to it.”

“Hey, it'll be the adventure of your dull life,” Noah said.

“That's right. I keep forgetting that you're doing me a favor by letting me come with you.”

They spent some more time discussing what food items they could bring (what there might be room for) and looking over the map Noah had drawn. Most of the land around Breven had always been a desert, but the recent storms had created marshy ponds in half-a-dozen previously dry gullies. Winter never came harshly to this quarter of Samaria, so they would be dealing with mud, not slicks of ice. “We should be all right,” Caleb decided, then shrugged. “If not—still a grand idea.”

“Dinner tonight at Seraph?” Noah asked as Caleb gathered up his backpack and prepared to go.

“Can't. I've been gone too long and I have too much to do. Maybe later in the week.”

“All right. Till then.”

And as Caleb left for the short hike from the camp into Luminaux, he reflected wryly that Noah had not once asked him about his visit to the Eyrie. He wouldn't have expected him to inquire after the health of the Archangel, but he had thought that Noah would be interested enough in the foreign technology to want to hear about that part of his visit at least. But apparently not.

Just as well. Caleb did not particularly feel like talking about it.

Half of his return trip he had spent castigating himself for the foolish, romantic gesture of leaving a gift for Alleluia; the other half of the trip he had spent wondering what plausible excuse he might have for returning to the Eyrie in the near future. None came immediately to mind. Surely something would occur to him.

Because she had seemed to enjoy spending time with him. That could not have been his imagination; she had laughed and talked
and told him secrets about her life, and she was clearly a woman who did not do so lightly. They had nothing in common, of course—neither interests, nor attitudes, nor desires, and certainly not faith—but something about her appealed to him so mightily that he could not force her from his mind.

So he would find something urgent to do in Velora as soon as he returned from Breven, and after that, well, he would see.

He had gone straight to the Edori camp upon his return—not just to return the horse, which he had borrowed from Thomas, but to check in with Noah about the trip to Breven. And to talk about the wondrous systems inside the angels' music machines.

Or not, as it turned out.

He made it to the outskirts of Luminaux just as the natural light began to fade and the far more magical, artificial light of the city began to work its azure charm. The woman who ran the bakery had collected a pile of mail for him—three commissions from Luminaux merchants, an inquiry from a large farming conglomerate just across the river, a note from his mother, a sealed packet containing the final payment on a very expensive wiring job he'd done two months ago.

“Here,” he said with a smile, handing most of the money over to his landlady. “I never seem to keep it long.”

She took it, but wistfully tried to hand it back. “You're paid up through this month,” she said.

“For next month. I'll be traveling, and I don't know when I'll be back.”

“You're always good for your rent,” she said, but she accepted the money this time. “I've had many who weren't nearly as reliable.”

“Ah, you love me while I'm solvent,” he said, heading out the door. “You won't say such kind things about me when I've lost all my commissions.” Her laughter followed him out.

Upstairs, he spent a few minutes sorting out clean clothes from dirty and deciding which of the offered projects he cared to accept. Tomorrow he needed to check back with a couple of his most recent clients to see if they had any questions or problems with their installations. He also needed to lay in more groceries, take in a pair of boots to be resoled and gather up supplies for the trip to Breven.

And, sometime tomorrow or the next day, he needed to find an hour to have a private conversation with the angel Delilah. He had made a promise to another angel, and whether or not she had
been serious when she made the request, the promise was one he intended to keep.

At the Grammercy House, the specialty of the day was a grilled fish concoction that looked inedible but was, in fact, delicious. Caleb, who was not a connoisseur, wondered what was in the sauce and the seasonings, but decided to ask neither the waiter nor Delilah, both of whom could probably tell him. Some things, he had learned, lost their appeal when investigated too closely.

“Nice place,” he said, looking around. The white velvet curtains had been drawn against the midafternoon sun and the whole room exuded an air of hushed, dark calm. All the patrons spoke in low, indistinguishable voices; the servers moved soundlessly between tables.

“You haven't been here before?” Delilah asked.

He shook his head. “I'm more of the beer-and-sausage type of guy. Tavern food. This is a little upscale for me. I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to behave.”

“But you fake it so well.”

Delilah had agreed to meet him for a late lunch (“What I consider breakfast,” she had drawled) without hesitation. Perhaps she thought he was interested, at last, in flirting with her. Perhaps men were always asking her out for meals. She was dressed in somewhat unflattering black, which richened the shadows of her hair but drained the color from her face. She looked as if she'd been sleeping until a few minutes ago. Caleb, who liked to be up with the dawn, could not imagine such slothfulness.

“I would guess you've tried every restaurant in Luminaux,” he said.

“Well,” she replied, “the classier ones.”

“Where do you rank Seraph?” he asked.

She laughed. “Oh, at the lower end. Not the sort of place I would frequent if I didn't have a job there.”

He studied her. “It can't be that you're singing for the money.”

“Well, the so-refined Joseph does pay me. But I'm not there for the financial advantage—I go for the entertainment value.”

“But you're the entertainment.”

“Let me rephrase. I go there for its value in distracting me. You can't, after all, sleep all day, every day. It's a way to fill the hours.”

The words were bitter but the tone was light. Self-mockery on
display at an early hour. This would be no easier than any conversation with Delilah ever was.

“Well, there's the trip to Breven,” he remarked. “That should fill a few days. A couple weeks, actually, between the trip there and back. Though it's likely to become tedious in its own way.”

“I like a little variety in my tedium. I'm looking forward to it.”

“Have you seen Noah's Beast?”

“His what?”

“The Beast. The—vehicle he's built to take us to Breven.”

“No, but I'm sure it's awful. From what he's said. He's very proud of it, though, so I'm going to try not to laugh at it.”

“It's more than awful. It's noisy and it smells like a factory, and it'll take two strong men to guide it all the way to Breven.”

“Good thing you're coming with us, then.”

“Oh, I'm sure Noah could find one of his Edori brethren who'd be just as useful as I would.”

“He doesn't seem to think so. It's always Caleb-this and Caleb-that, and ‘Anything I can't handle, Caleb can.' Really, it makes me see you in quite a different light. Up till now, I'd always thought you were rather ordinary.”

“Well, it's gratifying to be so highly thought of.”

“I don't think he'd make the trip without you.”

“And of course we're both counting on your help, as well,” Caleb added with a grin. “We thought you might like to help steer from time to time, and maybe gather firewood at the rest stops.”

Delilah smiled beatifically. “Clearly you were amusing yourselves with idle chatter. No one would bring me along to perform manual labor. It's obvious I'm too delicate.”

“My private opinion is that you could wrestle yourself free from a pack of wild dogs, but it's true that we figure you'll be mostly decorative,” Caleb said. “I, in fact, have a hard time believing you're really going to come with us.”

“Of course I am. The appeal of the novel, you know.”

“It'll be uncomfortable,” he warned. “Cramped quarters. Lousy food. And that constant smell.”

“Are you afraid I'll be complaining all the time?” she asked. “I'll be so stoic, you'll hardly know me.”

Caleb gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Well, that's the promise I was hoping for.”

“And is that why you invited me to lunch?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “I had a question to ask you.”

“I'm all agog.”

He took another bite of his fish before continuing. “Tell me,” he said. “If someone wanted a favor from you which you would probably refuse, how should he approach you?”

Sudden interest brightened her eyes. “First, he should take me to a fabulously expensive restaurant and ply me with exotic wines.”

Caleb smiled. “It's too early in the day for wine. For me. You, of course, can drink when you like.”

“No, I try not to drink before a performance,” she said regretfully. “My voice is my one remaining vanity, so I try not to abuse it.”

“So how can I win you over, then? They have some tempting desserts on the menu—”

She laughed. “We'll see how hungry I am when I finish my meal. What is this favor you want from me?”

“It
would
be a favor tome,” he said seriously, leaning across the table to make his pitch. “I'm like a kid who can't rest till he's tasted every kind of candy in the store. I see a scientific challenge, and I have to try to solve it. I can't think of anything else. I have to know if I can fix it, or design it, or improve it. It's like a fever.”

“Well, I don't have many scientific challenges lying around awaiting solutions,” she said. “So I can't guess—”

“Your wing,” he said. “I'd like a chance to look at it and see if I can come up with a way to repair it.”