Tinker's Justice Read Free Page A

Fr’n’ta’gur grumbled. Madlin flinched anew each time she felt the dragon’s voice pound through her. It was a sensation she could never acclimate to.
    “I take it there are eighty-four guns in total?” Madlin asked.
    “Indeed,” Fr’n’ta’gur replied. “Summon your minions and carry them away.”
    Madlin nodded and walked to the stack of crated coil guns. Any second …
    The world-hole opened, and the workers spilled through in an instant. The dragon watched, but did not try to peek around to see through into Korr this time. Instead, he muttered something in a foreign tongue, neither Korrish nor goblin speech. Madlin felt a tingle all over her body and knew that the dragon had worked magic on her.
    In a sudden panic, Madlin fled through the world-hole. Or at least, she tried. The hole became a solid pane of glass to her, too thick even for her body weight to shatter as she slammed against it. Spots swam before her eyes as Madlin staggered back. She reached up to check a wet sensation on her lips and found blood running from a broken nose.
    “This time, she stays,” said Fr’n’ta’gur, twisting around to look into the Jennai’s hold.
    Madlin pinched her nose shut to staunch the flow of blood, and watched the chaos through the world-hole. The crewmen had scattered as armed soldiers rushed in, coil guns at the ready. Rynn stood at the controls, one hand on the switch that would shut the world-hole, the other on the dial that would move the viewframe laterally in relations to the dragon’s position.
    “By all means, attack me!” Fr’n’ta’gur proclaimed. “But your Madlin Errol will die if you do. She is mine now, and she may not pass your gate. You will continue receiving your weapons as stated in our deal, but any other disturbance from this device of yours, and she will suffer. My worshipers will find ways where she will beg them to stop, but leave her still able to work at her inventions.” The world-hole closed an instant later.
    “Why?” Madlin asked, her voice nasal, her head swimming.
    “Because you are going to make me far more than just the weapons you have shown me,” Fr’n’ta’gur said. “You are going to create everything I tell you to.” He finished by calling out in the goblin tongue, words that, for all her time in Veydrus, Madlin had yet to glean even the simplest meanings from.
    A squad of goblins emerged from the hallway. Madlin tried to focus on them, but she could barely stand. She heard chains though. It was a sound she could never forget. The goblins surrounded her, crowding too close for her comfort. They pulled at her arms, sending shooting pains into her nose as she tried to hold it steady and shut. She tried to shake them off, but weaklings that they were, they outnumbered her. After a brief scuffle, they slipped something over her head, and she felt another tingle in the aether of magic working upon her, and then the far more concrete sensation of cold metal around her neck.
    With blood dripping down her face, Madlin clutched at the collar, finding two eyelets with chains leading into goblin hands, but neither hinge nor clasp. It was Deliah all over again. She had been captured, collared. She pulled on one of the chains with both hands, yanking one of her goblin captors from his feet, but then a jolt of spark shook her body and she collapsed to the stone floor. Three more jolts followed, each sending a spasm through her every muscle. Fr’n’ta’gur spoke a brief command to the goblins, and the jolts stopped.
    “They will take you to the healer, then to your new quarters,” said Fr’n’ta’gur. “In time, you will learn that you have received a great honor. I do not trifle with forces like your allies lightly. You are very valuable.”
    The goblins holding the chains tugged Madlin to her feet. Thankfully, they did not object when she resumed quelling the flow of blood from her nose. Still reeling and unable to focus her thoughts, she allowed herself to