Page 9 of The Knotty Clause

“Very well. But stay close,” he said gruffly. “Don’t touch anything without permission.”

He led both of them to his workshop, biting back a smile at the boy’s gasp of astonishment. The huge cave was filled with salvaged parts, woodworking projects, and a vast array of tools. Liam followed him eagerly over to his workbench, pointing at a plasma cutter.

“What’s that one do?”

“It cuts through metal.”

He picked up the tool, demonstrating its activation sequence. The blue flame sparked to life, and Liam’s eyes grew even wider.

“Like magic!”

“It’s science,” he corrected, but found himself explaining the basic principles as Liam absorbed every word.

The boy’s genuine fascination with the process had him explaining far more than he’d intended. He looked up at one point and found Gemma watching them, an unreadable expression on her face.

Liam reached for a crystalline power cell, and he gently intercepted his hand.

“That one’s dangerous. But here—” He retrieved a defunct navigation compass. “This you can hold.”

He demonstrated the compass’s magnetic core to Liam and the boy’s wide-eyed wonder drew out a long buried memory—of standing at his father’s workbench as his father had performed a similar demonstration. His father’s eyes, so like his own, bright with pride when he grasped the concept.

The pain sliced through him, sharp and unexpected. He set the compass down with more force than necessary, the metal clanking against the workbench.

“That’s enough.” His voice came out rougher than intended. “I have work to do.”

Liam’s face fell, but Gemma stepped forward. He half-expected her to be angry but her gaze was thoughtful rather than annoyed.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give Yede some space.”

The lack of judgment in her voice somehow made him feel worse as she guided Liam towards the door.

“But Mama?—”

“Let’s go and put out things in order.”

Their footsteps faded down the hall, and he gripped the edge of his workbench, knuckles white beneath his fur. This was what hewanted—solitude, silence, the familiar comfort of his tools and projects. No complications. No connections.

Yet the workshop felt colder now, emptier. The quiet pressed in around him like the snow outside his windows. He picked up the compass Liam had held, its metal still warm from the boy’s touch. Three years he’d spent crafting this isolation, convincing himself it was enough.

The sound of distant laughter drifted down the corridor. He set the compass down and stared at his reflection in a darkened screen, seeing his father’s eyes staring back at him.

CHAPTER 5

Gemma looked over at the window and sighed. From the dimness outside it must be barely past daybreak but they’d had an early night and she was too restless to sleep any longer. Yede had stayed in his workshop for the rest of the day, only reappearing long enough to prepare a quick meal of stir-fried vegetables and meat. He’d placed it on the table, gruffly told them to eat as much as they wanted, then disappeared again.

She sighed again as she remembered how Liam’s face had fallen, but perhaps it was for the best. There was no point in him getting attached to someone when they would only be here for a short time. He was still sleeping peacefully next to her, his cheeks already showing more color. She brushed a quick kiss to his forehead, careful not to wake him, and slipped out of bed.

Even out from beneath the covers, the air in the room was still warm and comfortable. Such a stark difference from the drafty shack at the mining camp where every morning meant fighting off the cold.

She quietly opened the trunk at the end of the bed and ruefully regarded her small collection of clothing. He’d returned her pack and their footwear, but it was still a pitifully small array. It would be nice to have something that wasn’t old or worn or stained. She finally decided on the pants she’d worn the previous day and an oversized shirt. The original green had faded but it still brought out the color of her eyes. She chose not to think too closely about why that mattered to her.

After a quick trip to the sanitary facility she wandered through the quiet house to the living area. Outside, snow whipped past the windows in white sheets. The storm showed no signs of letting up, but rather than feeling trapped, she felt safe. The thought of leaving was far more terrifying.

But we will be leaving, she reminded herself.We can’t get too comfortable.

A knot formed in her stomach. Yede had made them comfortable—and what had she offered in return? She didn’t like the idea of being beholden to anyone, no matter how desperately they needed his help.

She hesitated, then headed towards the workshop. She wouldn’t be violating their contract if she simply knocked on the door, would she?

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