“We’ve got conduits acting up all over town,” Boden said. “But might as well start with the main culprit.”
Antal circled the transformer like a vulture appraising carrion. Copper plates formed the body of the construct, framed in aluminum piping and glass channels to view the energy movement. Conduits of copper alloy fed from the storage tanks into the transformer, then out the building into the village. Antal’s claws clacked over a dormant channel. Red energy danced from his fingertips, following a conduit a few feet before sputtering out. He scowled.
“Your equipment is alarmingly outdated,” Antal said.
Boden huffed. “We’ve made do with what we can get our hands on.”
“I could have helped. If you’d only asked.”
“At what cost, daeyari?”
They held a brief staring contest. To Fi’s surprise, Antal conceded, returning his gaze to the conduits with a tail flick. “I’ll do what I can.”
He pried open an access panel, claws nimble amidst conduit wires, snaps of red energy sparking ozone on the air. A welcome change. The normal smells of metal and lubricant reminded Fi too much of the smithy where their father had worked, the odors that clung to his jacket when he sank into his chair each night.
Metal shrieked as Antal ripped a section of conduit from its fittings. Boden’s cry of protest came out equally shrill.
“Careful with that!” Boden said. “If another channel goes out, we’ll have people bunking in the general store.”
Antal studied the mess of metal. “I can reroute the current past the faulty parts. A temporary fix.”
“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”
“These conduits are adaeyariinvention.”
“It’s delicate technology.”
“It’s simple technology. Do you have any replacement copper alloy? Ones that didn’t come from Cardigan?”
Boden grumbled over to a supply shelf and returned with a box of copper wiring. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed Antal’s slip of words.
Fi did.
Simpletechnology. Energy conduits were a gift from the daeyari, one of the biggest bartering chips offered in exchange for sacrifices. But daeyari were liars. They twisted stories and stoked fear. What else had they been keeping from humans?
Antal caught her eye with face guarded, a flick of his tail before returning to work. Fi had to step carefully around this beast. He could be as conniving as every other daeyari, playing on her sympathy to get his territory back.
But Fi wanted to believe he’d do the right thing. What a wretched, dangerous whim.
“How’s your new roommate treating you?” Boden joined Fi, voice low beneath the scrape of tinkering metal.
He didn’t approve of Antal staying with her. That much dripped from his tone. Fi had been apprehensive herself, inviting a carnivorous creature into her cottage.
“Well.” She poked her stomach. “I haven’t woken up to any missing organs. That’s nice.”
Boden glared.
“Kidding,” Fi said. “He’s not so bad. Keeps to himself. Doesn’t leave dirty dishes in the sink. The teeth are really the only downside.” And those were becoming less of a downside, the more time Fi spent with him. She doubted Boden would relate with her thinking on that one.
Boden sighed. The older he grew, the more exhaustion weighed his shoulders, a foreseeable side effect of too much responsibility. Fi missed lighthearted Bodie, the man who’d declared impromptu snowball fights and snuck chocolates into her room when she got grounded for sneaking out in the middle of the night with Astrid.
“How are you handling all this?” Fi asked.
“My first responsibility is to Nyskya. I won’t drag anyone into this against their will.” The reply came premeditated, measured by a couple of nights’ consideration since they’d returned from Cardigan’s villa.
“Sure,” Fi said. “But if it means keeping their homes safe? You might find more people willing to stand against Verne than you expect. Kashvi would probably go on a one-woman rampage without much prompting.”
“Kashvi would rather put a crossbow bolt through a daeyari than work with one.”
