Page 8 of Monsters and Mocha

“Hi, Henry!” She pulled her tired features into a bright smile. “I’m going to need some coffee. A lot of it.”

CHAPTER SIX

DARBY

“Darby,” Henry repeated. “What is this?”

“He’s not a what, he’s a who. His name is Captain Monstrego, and he’s starting to get a little heavy.” Darby motioned with her head to the door that led to the narrow steps down to her workshop. “Could you get that for me?”

To his credit, Henry did not try to stall her with any more questions but crossed the small space and opened the door. Darby paused at the top stair, suddenly realizing how difficult the steep incline would be with her added burden.

“Let me help.” The captain’s weight was suddenly removed from her shoulders, and Darby spun around to see Henry awkwardly supporting Monstrego’s upper body. She looped an arm under his knee and lower back, and together she and Henry slowly eased him down the stairs.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.” Raven’s scratchy voice called out as soon as Darby jiggled the door handle open. “Busy night.” The bird flew over and landed on Darby’s shoulder, obstructing her view of the lamp-lit room.

Henry must have come down earlier and turned them on for me. Bless him.

“Not now, Raven.” She shrugged him off her shoulder and gestured with her chin to the narrow cot in the corner. “Let’s put him over there.”

The ruffled crow paced back and forth along the edge of her desk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Darby ignored him as she worked with Henry to get the captain settled. His leg was too long for the cot, causing his shin to hang over the bottom edge. She looked around the cluttered room.

“Here.” Henry shoved a pile of textbooks at her, and she used them to prop up his leg. She leaned back, finally allowing herself a moment to breathe as she checked her magic. It was still solidly in place; the captain had survived the journey.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Raven punctuated his question with a disgruntled caw.

“Yes, care to explain?” Henry added, crossing his arms in front of his chest, which was now soaking wet and covered with grime. “Why did you bring home half a man?”

She rose, shoving her wet hair out of her face. Her coveralls were still draped over the chair where she had left them that morning. It felt like years had passed, though in reality it had been less than a day. She grabbed them and began shooing Henry towards the door.

“Dr. Fransten doesn’t think he’s worth saving.”

Henry reached the threshold and dug in his heels. “So you brought him here to die?”

“No. I brought him here to save him.” Darby shoved Henry’s arm, and he staggered back a step. “But I can’t do that in these wet clothes. Let me change, and then I’ll explain everything while I get to work. Better yet, go brew some coffee—mocha, if you have it. I think I’ll need the extra sugar.”

“Turnscrew.” Darby held out her palm to Henry and wiggled her fingers impatiently. She bit her lip in concentration as she held together the intricate contraption of clockwork and thin metal plates that formed a hand with moveable digits. Once her fingers closed around the tool, she began the delicate process of tightening each of the tiny screws. It might have seemed counterintuitive to start with a non-essential part of his body, but her frazzled mind needed something familiar to start with to get the wheels of inspiration turning. She listened with half an ear as Henry voiced his concerns.

“Let me get this straight: you kidnapped a patient from the hospital in order to perform some kind of medical experiment on him? Are you well? Do you feel feverish?” Henry’s beefy palm was suddenly covering her forehead.

She leaned to the side, using her elbow to push him away. The movement caused one of the unsecured gears at the base of the thumb to slip out of place, and she growled in frustration. “I’m not experimenting on him.”

“Oh, so you’ve done something like this before?”

She caught him crossing his arms in her periphery and could well imagine the look of pointed skepticism that he was likely wearing. She pressed her lips together and jiggled the gear back into place. “Of course not.”

“Which is the very definition of an experiment.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” She set the clockwork hand down and looked up at him in exasperation. “Dr. Fransten was going to just let him die. I have to try something.”

“Darby, look at him!” Henry threw one arm out wide as he gestured to the captain’s still form. “He’s been blown to pieces. He’s likely still going to die, but now it will be under your watch. If you had left him at the hospital, it would have been death by natural causes. You start trying to play Deus, and how are you supposed to convince the Guild of Medicine that he didn’t die because of something you did? They’ll take away your internship, strip you of your certification, and probably ban you from practicing medicine ever again in the future. You’ll lose everything.” He took a breath, and his tone gentled. “You worked too hard to just throw it all away like this.”

Darby’s eyes followed his arm to the captain, and Merry’s words echoed again in her ears. Captain Monstrego had willingly sacrificed everything to keep his men alive. What good were all of the skills and knowledge she had gained if she wasn’t willing to do the same?

“I have to try something,” she repeated in a whisper, tearing her eyes away from Monstrego and looking up at Henry with tears welling in the corners. “I can save him; I know I can.”

Her friend let out a long, heavy sigh, scrubbing his hand down the side of his face. “If anyone can, it’s you. Just don’t expect me to help you hide the body if it doesn’t work.”