Page 56 of Still the Sun

Sighing, I gather my scraps.

Amlynn hands one to me. “Are these from the tower?”

I stiffen. Admittedly, I’m notalwaysthe most clandestine in my journeys, but ... “No, why?”

Amlynn shrugs. “I guess you found a cache somewhere?”

“Why do you think they’re from the tower?”

She hesitates at the sharpness in my tone.

I clear my throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You used to go there, is all.”

I narrow my eyes. “Used to?”

Amlynn twists the rag in her hands. “I don’t mean anything by it—”

“No, no,” I force friendliness into my voice. “But what do you mean,used to?”

She glances at Maglon. “I saw you headed that way about a year ago. Place has always been shut up, so I wondered.”

Blood drains from my face and pools in my chest.A year ago.Seven hundred fifty cycles. But I only met Moseus about forty cycles ago.

“You’re mistaken,” I mutter halfheartedly.

She shrugs. “Probably.”

I’m making her uncomfortable. Without another word, I leave the alehouse, dump the scraps at the forge, and take the sundial back home. At least, I reassure myself as I lie in my bed and wait for the mist to fall, if Iamcrazy, I’m not the only one.

I consider asking Moseus straight out, but he’s meditating when I arrive. He’s deep into it, too. Doesn’t even budge when I open the door, and I never bothered to oilhishinges.

I don’t search for Heartwood. I don’t have the courage to. I need to think.

The tower machines don’t have any notable compartments to put emilies in. I know that already, but I check again anyway, even investigating those hollow beams in Machines Two and Three. It would take a lot of the flowers to power this fortress, but if that’s one of its secrets, I don’t know how to utilize it. I could rig something up, maybe, the same way I could rig up steam power, but the machines weren’t meant to be added to.

I notice something, however, as I move through the tower. The machines all line up ... and so do their aggravating power switches. Discovering that, I sketch out more components and conclude that each machine has large wheels that align as well. After a few measurements, I confirm that it’s an enormous pulley system, minus the cable. The tower’s rope isn’t long enough, so I make a note to bind extra wiresand emily roots into a cord that will stretch clear from Machine Three to Machine One and back. The movement of Machine Three should power Machines Four and Five, if I’ve calculated it correctly.

I tighten a few nuts at the top of Machine Four, which I rolled back into place earlier, then realize I’m finished with it. All it needs now is the cord for the pulley system—

Breath on my neck.

I freeze, lungs seizing. I’m alone, but that ... it feels just like before. Steeling myself, I slowly peer behind me—

I’m wiring Machine Two when Heartwood comes behind me, one arm around my waist, nuzzling my neck.

“You’re back.” I grin and lean into him, head against his shoulder. “Anything?”

“No.” But he’s not upset by it. “I had no expectations.”

“Still.”

The room returns to me, just as I’d left it. My hands, gone cold, shake. My lungs suck in air, protesting time without breath.

That ... that wasreal. Denying it is pointless. I felt his arm around me, his lips against my throat. Istill feel it.Even the leap of my heart at his return—he’d been gone a while. A leap, and then comfort. Contentment.

Reaching up, I touch the side of my neck. Then my cheek.

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