These Clockwork Stars by Misty Malkasian

Author:Misty Malkasian [Malkasian, Misty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Misty Malkasian

Chapter Fifteen

He crossed to the large window and closed one side of the shop’s long curtains with a screech of metal against metal. “Quickly now.”

I hurried to the other side and pulled the remaining curtain to the middle.

“The back rooms are where my machines and I create everything you see here.” He waved his hand over the now-darkened shop. “I don’t allow anyone back there, usually.” He paused, then turned and peeked around the curtain, studying the street with a tense brow. The weak light coming through the window fell over his cheek. Unobserved, I gazed with interest at the pockmarks dotting it. When he appeared to be satisfied with his survey of the outside, he turned and began walking.

“I... I’m very honored to be allowed to see them, I’m sure,” I said, following along behind. I checked all the nooks and corners as we made our way deeper into the shop. Somewhere, the recipe was hiding from me and the world.

We paused at the door while Master Auclair fished another skeleton key out of his waistcoat pocket. He jiggled it in the lock and there was a chunk. The door creaked open, and he ushered me through with one hand as he studied the vast, dark room behind us.

The look on his face gave me pause. Did he already suspect anyone of harboring ill intentions toward him?

When we’d passed the door’s threshold, Auclair slapped at a switch on the nearby wall. The room ahead of us, once pitch-dark, lit as bright as day. I gasped. Another of his mechanical wonders? I shuffled forward, my jaw slackening. The ceiling, high, domed, and sweeping, was made of glass. Behind the glass, on a deep blue background, silver cogs slowly turned, all differing sizes, and so many—like thousands of little stars. One large, round lantern hanging from the middle of the ceiling was also made of glass, and shone like the moon, many tiny flames lit inside. A reservoir in the middle held a gigantic supply of yellowish oil.

“Pardon, mademoiselle.” Auclair steadied my shoulders as he brushed past me.

I blushed fiercely at his slight touch. I’d been standing directly in the doorway. “Oh. Apologies.”

The room was a nighttime forest scene, enormous dark trees along the walls extending upward like real ones, only these trees were made of twisted metal. Further down the wall was a painted lake which artfully reflected light, as though the cogs above really were shining down on it.

A long counter in the center of the room lay under the staggeringly large oil lamp moon. A row of machines hulked along the far wall.

“My children,” Auclair said, motioning to them with fondness. “Conches and presses. For my cocoa beans.”

In the corner next to a pile of neatly stacked wooden crates, a deep blue velvet cloth covered a domed shape. Another, smaller machine waited near it. I turned slowly around. “I didn’t think it was possible,” I breathed, “But this is even more beautiful than the rest of the shop.”

Master Auclair cleared his throat.

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