Chapter 2

Lorien gave up and allowed himself to be pulled from the room, smiling slightly. Mira felt the surge of success she always felt when she could break him out of his moods. As she'd watched him read earlier, his long lashes casting shadows across his face, she was glad the book had caught him too — glad and a little scared. 

It meant that there was something about the book that was different -- not bad, maybe, but important. It was also odd to think of staid Professor C mixed up in some old-timey mystery. Lorien moved beside her, taller, sharper somehow after the summer. But his wild brown hair was still a bird’s nest of a bun and his gray eyes still warmed when they looked at her.

She liked that he was quiet and serious because even though she rarely was, with him, she felt like she had the option. She knew that he thought that she was pretty and impressive, and she kept a wary eye out for the day that his admiration would turn to attraction, terrified that she wouldn't be able to match her shift to his. But for the moment, they were friends. She'd die for him, she'd kill for him, but date him? Not yet, maybe never.

She felt the book in its pocket banging against her leg and her consciousness, as she walked. She was dying to read more but she didn't want to show that eagerness in front of Lorien. Also, she wanted to test out the power of the book on herself, before handing it over to him. 

The sunlight met them halfway down the last stairway, warm and ordinary, the kind that chased the chill out of strange thoughts. Noises drifted up from the lawns — the rattle of a mechanical cart, the whistle of someone tuning an engine flute. From the workshops uphill came the smell of hot metal and the clanging rhythm of tools -- professors making last-minute tools for their classes. 

The path down to the lake was crowded with students, generally in jeans and t-shirts, some in shorts, their laughter trailing across the lawns. The lake itself lay wide and bright, its edges silvered with reeds. Somewhere across the water, an automaton gull dipped and clicked, its gears catching the sun. A few boats were out on the water, kids soaking up the last rays of freedom before the semester officially started.

Mira stretched, shaking off the quiet like dust. “Totally normal," she said. "I told you. Not haunted. Not cursed."

"Yeah, you told me," Lorien muttered sarcastically, and Mira laughed. 

Mira led the way, sure to stay in the shadows of the birch trees. She waved at a few people, but spotted some friends chilling under a large oak. “Don’t lurk,” she said over her shoulder. “It makes people think you’re plotting something.”

“I’m thinking,” Lorien said.

She turned to grin at him. “Exactly.”

They grinned at each other. She turned to examine the group they were about to join. There were very few people at school at Mira wasn't friendly with, but there were equally few that she trusted to appreciate Lorien's quiet thoughtful presence. This group was good.

Ned Bower, sat with his back to the lake, a pointy hank of dyed black hair cascading over one eye. The rest of his head was died eggplant purple and cropped close to his head. He had a notebook open on one leg, and was staring up at the castle, no doubt dreamily composing his next poem. His younger sister Nell, leaned back against him in candy bright clothes, chatting with Hester Pye. Hester, in swampy greens and browns, was using her prosthetic hand to stroke the petals of a dandelion that was growing in the grass next to her. 

Hester looked up and waved at Mira and Lorien. Nell followed Hester's gaze and followed suit. "Hey, we're talking about this year's Brass and Bloom! What are you two contributing?"

Mira and Lorien looked at each other, as they made their way toward the group. She could tell that even Lorien hadn't thought that far ahead. Mira laughed. "I probably won't know until the day before," she said. 

Lorien sneezed. He'd reached the one patch of sunlight before they made it to shade again. "Last year, they just told us what to make." 

"That's because we were freshman," Nell said. "Bless you. This year, we get to be creative. I'm going to make a mechanical fish that can swim in the lake, and I'm going to try to talk a bunch of sophomores into making some with me, so that we can have a bunch them leaping across the lake all night." She nudged Hester. "Hest's already said no." 

"Hest pointed out that Hest is not mechanical," Hester said, poking Nell back.

"What about you two," Nell asked. Mira had already plopped down next to the girls, but Ned's attention was taken by two freshmen trying to assemble a mechanical dragon kite.

Mira shrugged. "Sure, probably," she said. She tugged on the leg of Lorien's jeans. 

Lorien tugged his leg free of Mira's grasp, laughing. "I will have to think about it," he said. "Excuse me," he said to the girls, already heading toward the freshmen. 

“They’re over-weighted,” Mira heard Lorien say. “If you file down the copper joints or switch to tin, you’ll get lift.”

She shared an exasperated look with the girls. Nell grinned. She turned and called out, "Penny, you want to make a fish for the lake?"

Penny Drow, also a sophomore and already the tallest girl in school, had blonde hair and green eyes. She was wearing shorts and her long legs were muscled from lacrosse. She sat, almost part of the group, but off to the side a bit. 

She turned toward the girls, her gaze flicking over Ned's back, and then to the girls again. "Lake?" she asked distractedly. She'd been staring out across the water. Penny's major interest was sympathetic navigation. She could feel aether flows through the air, machinery, and ley channels beneath the earth. Like Alaric, from Professor C's book, Mira thought, noticing that Penny had returned her gaze to the lake.

Nell shrugged. She picked up a fuzzy pink notebook that she'd left open on the grass next to her. "I'll put you down as a maybe," she said to Penny's back. "And you and Lorien too," she added, with a glance over at Mira. She wrote for a moment, before looking pointedly over her book at Hester.

Hester was stroking the stem of the the daisy with her prosthetic. The hand was beautiful—smooth plates of brushed copper and silver, etched with tiny vine patterns. Beneath the knuckles, faint green glass beads pulsed gently, like the slow beat of a heart. "Nope," she said, cheerfully, the clockwork ticking away quietly as she continued petting her flower. 

Mira dropped onto her back, hands behind her head. The sky was bright, with patchy clouds floating above the leaves of the oak. 

“Hi guys,” said a cheerful voice.

Mira propped herself up on her elbows, and held back a groan. Kerys Bracken was a tiny, chubby, cute blonde. Curls of pale gold escaped from her loose braid and her cheeks were pink from the walk up from the lower lawns. Her smile was so bright it made Nell and Hester smile back immediately. 

Kerys had that sort of charm that worked like a spell—light, harmless, impossible to resist. She could make anything sound funny or important or both, even when she was lying, most of the time.

“Missed you all,” Kerys said, dropping gracefully to the grass facing the girls. “What’s the gossip? Who’s been tragically in love since breakfast?”

Nell and Hester laughed.

Mira lay back down and tried to focus on the peace she'd just been feeling. 

"What are you planning for the Brass and Bloom?" Nell asked.

"Oh, I hadn't really thought about it," Kerys said. "Why?"

"I want a bunch of us sophomores to get together and build fish for the lake. Are you in?"

"Sure!" Kerys said. "That sounds amazing!"

"Great!" Nell said, happily. "I'll put you down as a definitely." 

Mira thought that Nell should put Kerys down as a definitely not. Kerys' specialty was reflective alchemy, not mechanics. But it wasn't surprising that Kerys had said yes. She'd probably say yes to everyone who asked her to work with them, and then flake out on all of them.

A couple of sneezes let Mira know that Lorien was back on his way over. She stood up, brushing grass off of her pants. She saw that the freshmen had moved closer to the water. The dragon was a two-person kite, and it was a tough call to tell if kids were flying the kite, or if the kite was running the kids.

"It looks like you helped them a little too well," Mira said to Lorien.

Lorien laughed. He noticed Kerys and nodded in greeting. He was one of the few who knew Mira didn’t like her—and the only one who knew why. He was polite, of course; he was always polite. And Kerys, aware of every nuance in a room, never missed an opportunity to make that politeness look like something else.

“Do you have Caldus again this year?” she asked, standing as if drawn toward him by sunlight. “I saw your notes once—beautifully kept.”

“They’re just notes,” Lorien said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I like neatness,” Kerys said. “Precision. It’s an underrated quality.”

Mira, still brushing grass from her pants, didn’t bother to look up. “Precision doesn’t help much when you mismeasure your mercury ratios.”

Kerys’s eyes slid toward her—sweet, unbothered, but sharp enough to cut. “That was once,” she said lightly, then turned back to Lorien. “You work with small constructs, right? Butterflies, or—?”

“Miniature mechanisms,” he said. “I’ve been trying to design one that reacts to changes in light. Sort of a mimicry study.”

“Like camouflage?” she asked, leaning in.

He nodded, leaning back a bit. For a moment, her interest seemed genuine—her expression softened, curious. Then she caught herself and smiled again, the social brightness snapping back into place.

“That’s clever,” she said. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“Maybe,” Lorien said, noncommittal but kind. 

“Anyway,” Mira said, stepping into the pause, “we were talking about the Brass and Bloom. Nell’s organizing a mechanical fish swarm.”

“Obviously I’m in,” Kerys said at once. “I adore fish.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Kerys beamed. “Of course. They’re so—” she fluttered her fingers “—reflective.”

Nell and Hester smiled at each other, and shrugged. It was awkward the be sitting with half of the group standing, but neither wanted to move, and besides, they had been there first. 

The breeze shifted, carrying the faint scent of oil and copper. Mira tried to laugh too, but her eyes drifted toward the lake—and to Penny, still sitting apart from the group, gaze fixed on the water’s mirrored surface.

Mira made a mental note to talk to her later. After she'd ready more of the book.