fields. He’d gathered up as many of the broken pieces as he could, but it looked like some scrapper had trampled the watch in his rush to get on to bigger treasures. Piper spent weeks working on it, painstakingly reinserting its brass gears, escapement, and mainspring into the case. Her patience paid off the day she heard the distinctive ticking sound coming from the thing. Micah ended up giving the watch to her as a gift.
What she never told Micah or anyone else was that in the months after her father died, when she desperatelyneeded coin that he was no longer able to provide, she’d tried to sell the watch to a stiff hip from Ardra. The trader brought the watch back a week later, claiming Piper had cheated him, that the thing didn’t work. Piper gave him his money back, though it had almost killed her to do it. A few days later, the watch inexplicably started ticking again. Twice more Piper tried to sell it, but both times the traders brought it back, angrily waving the broken thing in her face. Apparently, the watch had decided not to work for anyone but Piper. She’d never figured out why.
Piper knew she should be proud of her talent, and she was, but it made her nervous the way people whispered about her when they thought she couldn’t hear. They claimed that there were many machines only Piper could fix, and that made some people angry, as if she were taking something away from them by being so good at her work. How could the best machinist in the scrap town be so young, with no training beyond her father’s guidance and her own tinkering? That was what they whispered. Even Micah looked at her strangely sometimes, as he was doing now, and Piper hated it.
“It’s getting late—or early, I guess,” she said. “You’d better head home.” The storm was coming, and she had to be ready. She didn’t have time to worry about stupid rumors. Piper held open the sack for Micah to put the music box in it. “Look, promise me you won’t take less than twelve for that thing, and make sure you tell anyonewho looks at it that it plays a pretty song. They’ll want to hear all about it.”
The melody had dwindled to a few meek notes. Micah pressed his ear against the box. “But I don’t know anything about the song. It’s from another world.”
Piper threw up her hands, but she was smiling. A little bit of the tension went out of her. “Of course you don’t know it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make something up, you dumb puppy. Tell them it’s probably an old song from a world of poets, a lover’s lament.”
“Lover’s lemon?” Micah said dubiously.
“Lament,”
Piper said. “Didn’t you learn anything in the Consortium school? It means regret or something. Trust me, they’ll eat it up.” She shooed him toward the door. “Go on.”
Micah ran when Piper pretended to kick him out with her oversized boot. “Thanks, Piper,” he said, grinning. “Mom and Dad are coming back tomorrow night. I’ll bring you some fish from their catch!”
As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Piper shut the door, shed her nightdress, and put on trousers and a thick cotton shirt, adding another layer of socks to the ones she already wore so her father’s boots would fit tighter. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it—she’d always had big feet. She’d outgrown her own boots months ago. Her father’s coat, however, didn’t fit her at all. The tail dragged on the ground, and the sleeves bunched at her elbows. It hung loose on herand she was always catching it on things, tearing holes and leaving threads hanging out. The garment looked more like a dog’s shaggy coat than a jacket. She adored it.
After she dressed, Piper checked the stove again and hauled water in from the well. She filled the teakettle and set it on the stove to boil. From a cupboard, she took a box of tea and measured out a small amount to add when the water was done. For the rest of her breakfast, she got out
What she never told Micah or anyone else was that in the months after her father died, when she desperatelyneeded coin that he was no longer able to provide, she’d tried to sell the watch to a stiff hip from Ardra. The trader brought the watch back a week later, claiming Piper had cheated him, that the thing didn’t work. Piper gave him his money back, though it had almost killed her to do it. A few days later, the watch inexplicably started ticking again. Twice more Piper tried to sell it, but both times the traders brought it back, angrily waving the broken thing in her face. Apparently, the watch had decided not to work for anyone but Piper. She’d never figured out why.
Piper knew she should be proud of her talent, and she was, but it made her nervous the way people whispered about her when they thought she couldn’t hear. They claimed that there were many machines only Piper could fix, and that made some people angry, as if she were taking something away from them by being so good at her work. How could the best machinist in the scrap town be so young, with no training beyond her father’s guidance and her own tinkering? That was what they whispered. Even Micah looked at her strangely sometimes, as he was doing now, and Piper hated it.
“It’s getting late—or early, I guess,” she said. “You’d better head home.” The storm was coming, and she had to be ready. She didn’t have time to worry about stupid rumors. Piper held open the sack for Micah to put the music box in it. “Look, promise me you won’t take less than twelve for that thing, and make sure you tell anyonewho looks at it that it plays a pretty song. They’ll want to hear all about it.”
The melody had dwindled to a few meek notes. Micah pressed his ear against the box. “But I don’t know anything about the song. It’s from another world.”
Piper threw up her hands, but she was smiling. A little bit of the tension went out of her. “Of course you don’t know it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make something up, you dumb puppy. Tell them it’s probably an old song from a world of poets, a lover’s lament.”
“Lover’s lemon?” Micah said dubiously.
“Lament,”
Piper said. “Didn’t you learn anything in the Consortium school? It means regret or something. Trust me, they’ll eat it up.” She shooed him toward the door. “Go on.”
Micah ran when Piper pretended to kick him out with her oversized boot. “Thanks, Piper,” he said, grinning. “Mom and Dad are coming back tomorrow night. I’ll bring you some fish from their catch!”
As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Piper shut the door, shed her nightdress, and put on trousers and a thick cotton shirt, adding another layer of socks to the ones she already wore so her father’s boots would fit tighter. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it—she’d always had big feet. She’d outgrown her own boots months ago. Her father’s coat, however, didn’t fit her at all. The tail dragged on the ground, and the sleeves bunched at her elbows. It hung loose on herand she was always catching it on things, tearing holes and leaving threads hanging out. The garment looked more like a dog’s shaggy coat than a jacket. She adored it.
After she dressed, Piper checked the stove again and hauled water in from the well. She filled the teakettle and set it on the stove to boil. From a cupboard, she took a box of tea and measured out a small amount to add when the water was done. For the rest of her breakfast, she got out
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