Brewing Storms (Fated Touch Book 13)

Chapter 2

2

“A moment!” a voice shouted from the shadows, and shortly thereafter a figure shot out of the trees and stopped between us and the monster. They raised their arms and revealed themselves to be a man covered in a cloak.

Abano squinted into the darkness. “What are you doing there with that automata?”

I squinted into the dark, and the figure with the red eyes emerged from the gloom. The creature’s body was shaped like an avocado with the wide part appropriately placed on the hips. Thin arms stuck out the sides and ending in four-fingered hands. The legs were thick and its feet were flat pancakes. Its head was an egg with two red dots for eyes. Neither a mouth nor ears were seen. The machine’s metal-plated body shone like silver, even in the weak light of the dreary night.

I lifted an eyebrow. “That’s an automata?”

Sage stroked his chin as he examined the behemoth of nuts and bolts. “Yes. One of those ancient machines of the people of Keris, that wonderful city of clouds from our adventure so long ago. They built many more throughout the world, and this creature that stands before us is one of the few I have seen at so far away from the floating city, and never have I seen one in such excellent condition.”

The man strode over to the side of the machine and turned to face us. The stranger threw off his hood and revealed himself to be a young man of about twenty with gray eyes and a curiously tense smile. He kept those keen eyes on us as he patted the side of its belly. The sound wasn’t the hollow echo I expected, but a hard clunk. “What do you think? I call him Custado.”

Abano frowned at the young man. “Paco! Why do you block the road for my customers?”

Paco looked past him and at the four of us. “I heard what happened at the inn, and I feel I must apologize on behalf of the whole of Fossa.”

Abano waved a hand at us. “Apologies will not get dry them out!”

Paco inclined his head. “I know that, Signor Abanon, and that is why I offer you my abode as a place to stay.”

Abano lifted an eyebrow. “That is very nice of you, Paco, but you will not make friends among your people by giving strangers help.”

Paco folded his arms over the front of his damp cloak and laughed. “You and I both know that I don’t have any friends among my people, so I don’t believe I’ll care.”

Abano pursed his lips, but looked over his shoulder at us. “I will leave the choice to you, kind people. Do you wish to go with my friend here?” He waved his hand at Paco. “His home is good but small-” My stomach interrupted his eloquent speech.

Paco laughed. “And food in the cupboards.”

Bee dropped her eyes to her shivering little bird and her face fell. “Midge needs a warm place to dry her feathers.”

Sage lifted his gaze to our driver and nodded. “We would be very grateful for any home that would take us in.”

Paco’s face lit up and he pointed down a side road that led toward the foothills of the steep cliffs. “My home is this way.” He cast a quick look up at the automata. “Come on, Custado.” Our new companion strode down the road, but his machine buddy didn’t flinch. Instead, those red eyes appeared to fix on me. Paco stopped and half-turned to the robot with a frown on his face. “Custado! Come on!”

The eyes of the robot flickered like an old television set, and the creature turned toward Paco. It set off in a clunky gait and Paco continued onward with the thing at his side.

Our driver looked less pleased than our new guide. He leaned toward us, and when he spoke he had lowered his voice to a whisper. “I must warn you, good people, that Paco is what the people around here call ‘testa.’ Your people would call it ‘touched.’”

Sage lifted an eyebrow. “Why do they say that?”

Abano pursed his lips as he looked ahead of us. “Paco is a good boy, but he has a. . .he likes the old stuff. Perhaps too much, many say. He dabbles with them, touching things that should not be touched.”

Sage bowed his head. “I am sure it is nothing more than curiosity, but we thank you for the warning.”

“Are you coming?” Paco called from several yards down the road.

Abano grasped the reins tightly in his hands and frowned. “We are coming!”

Our driver cracked the reins and the wet nag sauntered off after the man and his machine. The road twisted about like a snake, as did most in the small town, but eventually the incline grew steeper and the houses grew older. The stone walls were replaced with packed dried mud, and the glass windows grew foggy with age and dirt. Even the rain couldn’t dampen the musty scent in the air, and the trees that dotted the landscape grew taller and towered over many of the homes.

Paco’s abode turned out to be a stately manner with one peculiar feature. The whole place had been carved from the steep walls of the cliff. Balconies towered above us as he led us through a low archway and into a small courtyard. Smoothed windows stared down at us through moth-speckled curtains, and leaves had gathered in all the corners of the yard. There wasn’t a single light in any of the windows, and there was no sound of birds except for Midge as the cart rolled under a tall archway and into a small courtyard. I couldn’t help but notice a design of a crow on either side of the arch wall. Abano stopped the vehicle in front of a pair of fine wooden doors that led inside the cliff face.

“Wow,” I breathed as Caius climbed down and offered me his arms. I accepted his offer and he helped me out of the rear. “This is really cool.”

Paco stood near the door with his machine friend and smiled at me. “I’m glad you like it. My great-great grandfather carved much of the original structure with his own hands, and other members of my family added to it.”

Caius swept his eyes over the dark courtyard and pursed his lips. “Do you live here alone?”

Paco’s good humor faltered a little as he gave a curt nod. “Yes. Unfortunately, I am the last of my line, except for a few cousins farther down the street.” He caught our driver’s eye and waved his hand in the direction of another archway that led into a low, metal-roofed building. “Signor Abano, you may put up your steed and cart in the stables. There isn’t much hay, but it’s still dry and warm.”

Abano hopped down and bowed his head. “Maurizia and I will be glad for whatever you have, signor.” With that he led his nag through the doorway and out of sight.

Paco caught our attention and smiled. “If the rest of you will follow me.”

He opened the doors and revealed a small hall which stretched leftward where a tiny dining table and kitchen showed themselves. Stone steps led up to a single narrow hall that stretched lengthwise across the house. There were no doors along the wall opposite the stairs, but the hall disappeared out of sight on both the left and right, and no doubt led to rooms where one could access the balconies I’d seen outside.

Paco turned to us and stretched out his arms on either side of himself. “I’m afraid there are only three rooms, my own included, but you’re welcome to them. There’s also some problems with a few ants every now and again. Eager for food from an empty table.”

Sage gestured to the stone hearth inset into the wall past the dining table. The chimney climbed up the wall and disappeared through the roof, no doubt emerging out the cliff face above us. “We will be quite comfortable here, thank you, and ants are no novelty for we who travel a great deal.”

“Let me cook something for you,” Paco suggested before he hurried to the kitchen. A large metal stove fired by wood sat in the place of honor in the center of the wall. “I just need to start a fire-”

“Allow me,” Sage offered as he lifted one hand.

Two fireballs shot out of his palms and flew outward. One launched itself into the stove while another landed in the hearth where a stack of wood awaited lighting. Fires jumped up in both places, and soon the sound of soft crackling filled the room.

Paco looked at my grandfather with unmistakable admiration. “You have skill in the magicks?”

Sage leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I have some skill, yes.”

Paco scurried up to Sage and clasped his hands together in front of him. “Then perhaps you have heard of Lady Nightfall, the greatest sorceress who ever lived?”

Sage raised an eyebrow. “I am afraid that name is not familiar to me.”

Paco’s face fell. “But surely you know about her!”

He hurried over to a small bookcase where a half dozen musty books sat on the otherwise bare shelves. Our host snatched a particularly large and daunting tome from the assortment and flipped open the dusty pages. He found the right spot and dashed back to us where he revealed the open pages. The leafs showed a hand-drawn image of a woman in armor. Her long hair flowed behind her in some invisible wind and she looked off in the distance with an indomitable gaze. She grasped a staff in both her hands, and at her feet were the remains of wild creatures, and not a few men.

Paco’s excited expression was matched only by the swift tapping of a finger against the pages. “This is Lady Nightfall, Mistress of Fossa. Two thousand years ago she held back a mighty army with her skill with both sword and magick.”

Sage leaned down to examine the pages and stroked his chin. “There appear to be some rather interesting runes on the edges of these pages-”

Paco’s face paled and he slammed the book shut. Sage lifted his curious eyes to the young man, who gave him a tense smile. “My apologies. The book is rather valuable to me, and I don’t like to keep it open longer than usual. The spine is very fragile, you see.”

Sage nodded. “I can understand. The tome appears to be nearly as old as the story.”

Paco brushed his hand over the cover and studied the ornate gold-inlaid scrawling etched into the frail leather. “Yes. It’s a family heirloom of sorts. My great grandfather was very fond of books and purchased a great many which my father was forced to sell some years ago.” He lifted his eyes to the empty shelves and sighed. “Now so few remain of his collection that it’s hard to believe it ever existed.”

My stomach interrupted his contemplative mood. Our host shook himself and smiled at me. “I’m terribly sorry. Here I am prattling on about the past when I should be worrying about the present. I’ll get you some food straight away.”