Page 88 of Still the Sun

“And then what?” asks another. “Can we dig under it?”

“No,” Salki answers. She’d know. She read it in my book.

“I say we still build a ladder,” Balfid says.

“Or ... a hook? To open a door?” Frantess suggests.

“What door?”Frustration leaks into Arthen’s voice. “There is no door!”

Build,I think as sweat drips from my temple. The mist should be coming any time now. Except—

I shoot to my feet so quickly it makes me light-headed. “I’ve got it. But we need to go back to Emgardennow. Arthen, can you run?”

His eyes widen, but he nods.

“Good.” And I take off for the town.

Back at Arthen’s forge, half the water I chug spills over the front of my shirt, but I don’t care. I toss the bladder aside and finish my slapdash sketch. “Like this. I need you to make this as fast as you can. It needs to be thin and light.”

He stares at the crescent-shaped sketch. “It’ll be brittle—”

“I only need to use it once. Go! Balfid, help him.”

Frantess, Maglon, and Salki come huffing through the falling mist, carrying my rover between them.

“Right here!” I bark, pointing to the opposite end of the forge. They oblige. Amlynn comes with my tools. I pull her over to help. If she had her memories back, this would go so much swifter, but we have what we have, and only four and a half hours to get this done.

“Hex turnscrew.” I hold out my hand. Amlynn shuffles and hands it to me. Salki returns a moment later with a lantern. “Wrench. Thamton, see that gear over there? It’s a flywheel. Bring it to me. With the—yes, that. Just bring it all.”

With a heave I turn the rover over and pull apart its belly, wiping sweat from my eyes. Frantess hands me a bladder. I drink half of it, then dump the rest over my head, desperate to cool off. “Make sure the others are drinking,” I insist without looking up from my work.

“Sprocket,” I say, and Amlynn hands me one. A few minutes later, Frantess hands me a strip of dried meat and a bar of grain. I thank her and chew while I work. “Hold this.”

Amlynn puts her hands on the slide head. I tighten the prongs holding it, then use screws to make a crude shaft for steering, though I’ll have to depend on the distribution of weight for tighter turns.

“I need water,” I say to no one in particular. “A lot of water.”

Footsteps vanish from the forge as Arthen fills the room with blistering heat and the pealing of his hammer.

I connect a makeshift piston and seal up the rover’s belly. It won’t last long, but I only need a couple of hours. More than that and we’ll be doomed, anyway.

Amlynn helps me right the thing, and I make my final adjustments. Water arrives, and I fill the cylinder with as much as it can hold, then fasten another bladder atop it. I’ll cut it loose if it weighs down the machine too much. I wedge the clock and my tool bag between the two.

“Mag, help Amlynn carry this to the road. Salki—” I gesture to the back entrance of the forge, and Salki follows me out into the mist.

“It’s so dark,” she says.

It’s not even sunset yet, but the mist does seem darker. I worry the onset of night will scare my help away, but there’s nothing to be done. If this next step doesn’t work, we fail. If Salki can’t accept this final request, we fail.

I plant my hands on her shoulders and look her in the eyes. She stares in wonderment, seeing Casnia in mine.

“I need you to listen very carefully, because I can’t do this part,” I say in low tones. “I’m going to show you how it works, and then what to do with it, and we only have time to go over it once. Do you understand?”

She nods, and I begin.

Arthen finishes the crescent-shaped piece. I look over the hastily crafted part—it’s still warm—and hand it back to him. “Get on.”

His eyes bug at me. “What?”

---