VII“What's this, boy? Give it to me.”
He'd been twisting Diane's ring around and around on his finger, lost in his memories. The master let him out of the engine twice a day, morning and evening. He liked to sit where he couldn't see the engine or the ironclads and pretend, for a few moments, he was free, even though his ankle was still shackled to the machine.
“It's nothing,” said Finn. “It's worthless, it's just wire.” He unscrewed the silver spiral over the joint in his finger, to hide back in his pocket. It came off much more easily now.
Master Whelm stood over him, his mouth twisting as if he was trying to smile but didn't know how. The ironclads sat nearby around a fire, watching what was about to happen. They had taken their helmets and masks off and the skin of their unfamiliar
