The Phoenix Thief

THIRTEEN

KILTER WOKE TO FIND the window of his room almost as dark as if it was night, snowflakes whirring into the throw of firelight through the glass before being snatched away by the wind again. Everything was warm and bright down in the library, though. Kilter had his breakfast there, eating his porridge with as much enthusiasm as Nikori as the fawn drained the bottle Catrío gave him. It would be a while more before Nikori healed enough to wear the false leg Kilter was working on for him, but already he was flapping his long tail, flicking his ears this way and that, and bobbing his head to watch everything that took place around him.

"He's getting better," Kilter said, proffering the three fingers of his right hand to the fawn when Catrío pulled the empty bottle out of his reach and he gave a bubbly grunt of dismay.

"You're getting better, too!" Catrío laughed, poking Kilter gently in the ribs. "You don't feel quite so much like my washboard, anymore."

Kilter cleared his throat and rubbed at the upper half of his left leg. "Do you think it will still be two months before I can walk around again?"

"Six or seven weeks, now. That's a nasty fracture you got, and it will take time to heal properly. But you needn't be on your feet right away. Shev said it's a regular old blizzard outside, and it's hard enough for big, strong him to get from the front door to the carriage house and back, so you certainly couldn't do it. What do you say we have an investigative day today, instead of starting to work on the Model Twelve right away?"

"Investigative?"

"We can read more of your book and learn how the Twelve's put together. Then we can see what kind of supplies we'll need."

All morning they dug through the notebook. Catrío wrote down the various things they needed – wood, wire, gears, coils, springs – and Kilter listened with fixed attention to every word she read aloud. Aletsavar hadn't written much more about the Model Twelve beyond what Catrío had read the day before, however, and the majority of the book's written content were diagrams, brief reports on test flights, and scribbles that Catrío called mathematics.

Kilter frowned. "What are those?"

"It's all about numbers. Don't look at me with those begging eyes of yours, though, for I don't know much more than you about mathematics. You'll have to have Shev teach you, once he comes inside. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since he went out to feed the animals this morning. Have you seen him?"

Kilter shook his head. "Does he often stay outside?"

"He walks the length of the valley every day, and I go with him pretty regularly, but other than that he usually stays quite close to the house. Before now he always preferred being here in the library with me on days like this. Oh, well." Catrío shrugged, setting the notebook down on the couch between her and Kilter and picking up her list of supplies. "He gets restless this time of year. It must be just that."

Kilter remembered the sudden way Shev stared at him after Catrío told him about Kilter coming from Istravol, but he decided against mentioning it. Catrío was already briskly reading aloud her supply-list, anyway, and the thought of so many mechanical pieces made it hard for Kilter to think about anything else. Leaning forward, he peered over the top of Catrío's list.

"Clock springs," she said with a firmness that didn't match her rosy cheeks and untidy hair at all. "Those are for the wings, the launching mechanism, aren't they? They're those thin bands of metal wound in a flat circle. I think we have some of those."

"Where?"

Catrío flicked the few longer locks of Kilter's pale hair out of eyes and grinned the same way she had upon presenting him with Nikori. "The infirmary used to be a workroom. All those drawers along the wall were full of metal things and bits of machines, but as soon as Mavora made me want to heal things, Shev and I packed everything up and he took it to the attic. Everything should still be there."