Christopher Golden & Thomas E. Sniegoski - Outcast 01 by The Un-Magician

Author:The Un-Magician [Un-Magician, The]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-01-07T12:57:13+00:00

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CHAPTER SEVEN

« ^ »

The gyrocraft is ready, Timothy thought as he finished tightening the last of the bolts on the lightweight frame. But am I?

Nicodemus had told him during supper that this would be the night his special skills would be put to use, and Timothy had felt as though he might be sick. He had expected it to be soon, but not this soon. He’d hardly touched his meal, then excused himself from the dining chamber and headed to his workshop. If tonight was indeed the night, he had to be certain that his flying craft was in perfect working order.

Timothy stepped back and admired his work. He had conceived and designed it ages ago, but now at last he had been able to complete it. The workshop Nicodemus had set up for him was everything he could have hoped for, tucked away on the southern side of SkyHaven, away from prying eyes. All he had to do was spy for the Order of Alhazred and everyone would be happy—well, almost everyone.

Throughout making the final tweaks to the gyrocraft, Edgar had fluttered nervously about the workshop, black eyes gleaming with disapproval. Now, as Timothy gave a spin to the large rotor on top of the craft, the rook croaked loudly from atop a workstation covered with leftover parts. “I know you haven’t asked for my opinion. I’m just the familiar, after all. But I have to tell you, Timothy, I don’t care for this one bit.”

The tiny propellers attached to the short wings and to the tail of the gyrocraft were fastened well enough, but Timothy checked and double-checked the main roof rotor one final time.

Though in an emergency he could jettison the rotor and simply glide to a landing, he did not like to entertain that possibility. Better safe than sorry.

Edgar cawed loudly.

“I’m sorry,” Timothy said sheepishly. “I’m not ignoring you. I just want to make certain I don’t miss anything. That…” He smiled. “That would be bad.”

The rook’s feathers ruffled. “Caw! If you’re trying to make me less worried, you’re really bad at it.”

Throughout his work on the gyrocraft, Sheridan had been his loyal assistant. Now the mechanical man hissed a sigh of steam, and with a whir he raised his chin. It was obvious he shared the rook’s fears. Timothy handed his wrench to Sheridan.

“I know how you feel, Edgar, but I don’t have much of a choice,” Timothy explained. “They’ve tried to kill me twice now, and if I don’t find out who’s responsible, the third time might be the end of me.”

The bird cocked his head, light reflecting off his black beak. “I still don’t like it.” With a rustle of feathers he turned his back on Timothy. “You’re just a boy, not a spy—and look at how he’s dressed you.”

With a frown Timothy glanced down at himself, at the midnight black, tight-fitting clothing Nicodemus had provided him. He reached up to touch the hood that was bunched around his neck.

“It’s so I don’t get caught,” Timothy said to his disgruntled familiar as he studied himself.

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