Page 56 of Tusks & Saddles
Welborn thanked Kay before making his way toward the hidden galley. Once he had stepped through, pulling the glass firmly behind him, Beatrix let out an exhausted sigh.
“Okay, what in Ordia was that?” Kay asked. “You’ve never brought a ‘friend’ before, not to mention one you trust alone with Bit of all people.”
Beatrix could tell when Kay was being overprotective and this wasn’t one of those times. The reason Bit rarely left the workshop was simply because of the amount of times they had been nearly stolen. It had gotten so bad that Kay had to employ the mercenary guild to lay down the law. Who knew answering a simple helpwanted parchment would led her to one of the most brilliant tinkerers on the continent?
And despite what strangers may have thought about Beatrix—reputation aside—she did hold a soft spot for Bit. No one really understood how constructs aged, but Bit had been with Kay for seven years. In a lot of ways, they were an innocent.
“Fine, we’recompatriots,” Beatrix relented. “And I’d argue that cleric could rival Bit with how quickly he would be kidnapped on the train to Parandor Stronghold. I’m not worried about him hurting Bit.”
“But you’re worried about him hurting you?” Kay questioned.
“Not worried,” Beatrix corrected. “I just like to be prepared.”
“Right,” The tinkerer rolled his eyes. “I see the paranoia hasn’t gotten any better since you’ve been overseas.”
“Arcanists have that effect on me. One of whom nearly blew upGambler’s Luckand me with it.”
“Ouch. That bad, huh? Okay, fill me in.”
“Hangfire after the first shot and overheated too early,” Beatrix unlocked the suitcase. “It’s usually good for two, maybe three rounds.”
Kay nodded, “I can work with that but you’ll have to swap the fire out. The arcane charge igniting fire as it goes off ain’t helping any.”
“I can relent on the fire,” Beatrix opened the suitcase. “If you can offer an alternative. What do you have in mind?”
“Well…” Kay trailed, looking thoughtfully atGambler’s Luck. “How do you feel about ice?”
“Love it, might even come in handy for where we’re headed.”
“Which is?”
“I’m taking the kid to the Searing Wastelands.”
Kay stared. “That kid got a death wish?”
“It’ll be fine,” Beatrix dismissed, though she was still wondering how true that was herself.
“Okay…” Kay sighed. “Just do me a favor? You see any fancy metal or something of interest—”
“I’ll bring you back something shiny if you slide a couple of healing tonics my way,” Beatrix replied.
“Deal.”
Chapter Eleven
Welborn
He was still thinking about Bit long after they had left Kay’s. It was very difficult not to. Welborn had never seen a construct before, let alone one that could do more than simple tasks. There were spells for that sort of thing. Bards and other powerful mages who could create temporary assistants to complete simple tasks for them. Nothing more intricate than perhaps carrying rope or opening a door.
But those had always been obviouslymagical. Glowing spectral lights, the crackle of energy in the air. Bit didn’t feel like that. They hadn’t felt any different than any other person—they had even emitted warmth. From where that warmth originated from, well, Welborn was still pondering that.
One thing was certain, meeting Bit had opened an entirely new avenue of curiosity in Welborn. He hoped when they returned from their journey, Bit would allow him to ask more questions surrounding the construct’s origin. Bit had been found somewhere in the Searing Wastelands, buried in weeds and rubble. They had been partially conscious, and became fully aware once Kay had tinkered. However, Bit had no recollection of anything before that,not even their original name. And lastly, Bit had been conscious for seven years.
“That makes me seven seasons old by certain denizen methods of tracking time,” Bit had said pleasantly while offering a cup of black coffee to Kay. “I am very proud to have made it to my seventh life cycle.”
Somehow Miss Eaves had convinced Kay to let him stay with Bit while she collected the horses. In that time, Welborn had asked many questions just shy of being invasive. In hindsight, he realized his error. If his father had been in the room, he would have firmly but politely slapped the back of his head. Yet, Bit hadn’t indicated they were offended. If anything, they appeared to enjoy the company as they proceeded to wash the dishes.
I should have offered to help—
