A Face Like Glass by Frances Hardinge

Author:Frances Hardinge [Hardinge, Frances]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
ISBN: 9781447225942
Publisher: Macmillan Publishers UK
Published: 2012-05-10T06:00:00+00:00

The Works

‘What?’ Neverfell was horrified and rather hurt. She had started to feel a strange camaraderie with her curious kidnapper during their answer-bartering. He was, after all, perhaps the only person in Caverna who was more of an outsider than she was. And now, quite suddenly, he had reminded her that she had no rights. She was a possession of the Grand Steward. Even her memories were not her own. They were just grime to be wiped away from a borrowed possession.

‘I cannot send you back knowing what you know. And it is better for you if you do not. If you know too much, it will show in your face. The less you know, the longer you will live.’

‘But . . . I want to remember this conversation! I want to understand! I don’t want to be a toy! I don’t want to be a thing! I want to know how everything works! And I’m not supposed to eat or drink anything anyway! I’ll get in trouble if I drink the Wine!’

He gazed at her unblinking with his stony drudge face, and Neverfell had no idea whether he felt sympathy or contempt, or whether he had even heard her. He said not another word more, but returned to his metal suit and began methodically donning it again. Once back in his armour, he picked up his helmet, strode to the double doors and opened them to reveal the bellowing waterfall.

Ignoring Neverfell’s protests, he fastened a clip on his belt to the wire, then took out a small crank handle, fixed it to the front of the clip, and wound it vigorously for several minutes. He then swung back, so that he was hanging below the wire, suspended by his belt, and looked across at Neverfell.

‘You’re thinking of trying to escape,’ he said. It was a statement, not a question. ‘Forget that idea. Even if the waterfall didn’t kill you, you’d be lost in Drudgery. It’s not a safe place for the clueless, and, besides, that’s where the people who want you dead will be looking for you first. When I return, I will make sure you are left somewhere safe.’

Then he screwed on his helmet, kicked off from the floor, and pulled a lever on the hand crank. Instantly, with a wwhhrrzzjj noise, he raced backwards out of the room along the wire, in spite of its upward slope. As he reached the waterfall, the falling deluge made an umbrella shape of splatter as it struck him. The next moment he was gone.

Neverfell stared out at the vast waterfall, and her spirits sank. She could feel the cold of it on her face and hands, and its voice was all but deafening. But the Kleptomancer had passed out through it and survived. She did not know how he had managed to slide back up the wire . . . but if he could do it perhaps so could she.

What I need is a belt clip like his one. And he has another suit.

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