When I returned to his apartment, he was sprawled on his couch, reading from his personal palm-sized screen as though he’d been there all along.
“Did you get everything you need?” The little smile he wore held a smug edge.
I smiled back. “I did.” I set my box of components down on the floor—the easiest place to spread all the tiny circuitry—and set to work.
I hadn’t been born to tek like most humans outside of Faerie. So, when I first encountered the strange metal devices with little electronic minds of their own, I’d been fascinated by their construction. Fascinated enough to strip down stolen components and rebuild them into something new. I’d been punished time and time again, but the lashings didn’t matter. What was more pain to a creature like me, surrounded by pain and bloodshed? But tek, that was something else. In my cell, my world so small I counted it in steps, the wonder of tek had been the real magic. Not the intangible fae magic. Tek was a whole other world filled with possibility. I’d created new machines, new tek. Those tek trinkets had saved my life a hundred times over—and condemned it.
“Here.” I held out a black device no larger than a thumbnail. “It’s the best I can do with what I have here.”
The marshal had joined me on the floor some time ago to watch me dismantle the circuitry from the pieces I’d purchased and solder them into something else entirely.
He held out his hand. I dropped the comms into his palm and picked up its twin. “What is it?” he asked, studying it closely.
“Put it behind your ear, under your hair and against your skin.”
He frowned like I’d told him to eat it, reluctantly picked it up and eyed it between his finger and thumb. “Where’s the power source?”
“That’s you.”
“Me?”
“A human body can generate anywhere between one hundred and two thousand watts. You aren’t human, but your physique suggests you have a high-energy output.”
The humor in his eyes told me he liked that I’d noticed his physique. “Will it burrow into my brain and hide behind my eyes?” he asked, not entirely joking.
“What?” There was military tek capable of exactly that, but I certainly wouldn’t force such a thing on someone—he was smiling again like he knew he’d had me—even someone as annoying as Kellee. The spark of annoyance quickly faded, replaced by an even more infuriating urge to laugh with him. “Just put it on.”
Sitting up, he pressed the comms behind his ear.
I did the same with mine and rolled my jaw to activate it. “Now you can hear me—”
He winced and plucked it off. “Can you do something about the volume?”
The marshal had acute hearing. Interesting. I took it off him, made some adjustments and handed it back. “That should be more bearable. It’s low-tek, so Arcon’s scanners shouldn’t pick it up. They don’t scan for basic systems like this. If they did, they’d pick up all manner of electronic devices people carry with them. Arcon is looking for weapons, not hearing aids.”
“What’s the distance?” he asked. His voice doubled up as a whisper behind my ear.
“A few miles, but that will depend on Arcon’s systems. There are likely sections of the building where the comms won’t work at all, but you’ll see signs marking those restricted areas as communications dead zones.”
I showed him how to roll his jaw to turn the comms on and off. The devices were only temporary, unlike my link to Sota, but it would allow Kellee and me to communicate inside Arcon.
Kellee helped tidy away the spare parts, collecting them into a pile on his kitchen countertop.
“You just have to get me inside,” I said. “Tell them you’re there to investigate the recent disturbance. Just doing your job. Once in, make your way to any of the rear windows or doors and I’ll find you. You can open them from the inside. I’ll scramble the surveillance and locks.”
He nodded and picked up a cylinder around the size of his little finger and teased it between his fingers. “What else can you make?”
“Anything, given enough time and the right equipment.”
I offered him my hand, palm up. Kellee dropped the cylinder into it and watched as I collected a few more items, worked them together and finally lifted the electronic stickman to my lips and blew a little fae magic into it. I set the little electronic “toy” down on the counter and watched him climb onto wobbly metallic legs.
Kellee tilted his head and watched the toy man wobble about, then poked him. The toy staggered but stayed upright, and then he turned toward Kellee and lifted his wiry arm. Kellee pushed the toy again. Sparks jumped to Kellee, eliciting a hiss from the marshal’s lips. He shook his hand out. “What was that?”
“I guess he doesn’t much like you.”
“It… he’s… alive?” he asked carefully, aware of how absurd it sounded.
“He is.”
“But you just… you just made it, right there. How is that possible?” He paused, realizing I’d used magic to bring the tek to life. The same as my whip. The same as the fae assassin’s gun. The same as Sota, though the marshal didn’t know that. All my tek was alive with fae magic, some more than others.
As the marshal understood, the toy electronic man slumped forward and stopped moving. His magic, what little I’d given him, had burned out.
“It’s fleeting, especially so far from Faerie.” I pressed my lips together, wishing I hadn’t said the name, wishing I hadn’t made the little man and seen the delight in the marshal’s eyes. It was too late. I had said too much.
I lifted my head and caught Kellee’s odd expression. The marshal knew. He knew exactly why I didn’t behave like a human. He knew where I came from, knew why the imprisoned fae had talked to me the way he had, knew how I could animate soulless objects.
“You lived among them,” he said.
I swallowed. “If you mean people in the sinks, sure I did.” My attempt to cover up the truth sounded pathetic and desperate.
“You’re not part of the sinks”—his voice quickened, his thoughts solidifying—“you just hide out there… hiding from the protofae. You were born on Faerie.”
I turned away and crossed the room, collecting my coat. All my lies had begun to unravel. “No.” More lies. He was too close to the truth. Why couldn’t he stop asking questions? In five years, nobody had cared enough to ask me anything, and here he was, relentlessly digging.
“How did you escape? How did you get here? Defense drones beyond the debris zone would have shot down any ship.” He came around the kitchen counter, strides driving his questions home. “What are you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now let’s get back to Calicto…” Tugging my coat on, I stopped by the airlock doors, ignoring my pounding heart. He wouldn’t drop this. Someone like Kellee never did. He would poke and push until the truth pushed back. I would have to deal with him. Dammit, I didn’t want that.
I watched him bear down on me. I didn’t want to hurt him.
“Nobody leaves Faerie. Certainly no human—” He stopped, too close. His words burned like accusations. I lifted my chin and faced him. The marshal’s keen mind worked. His questions rallied, and his answers jostled. And there, that moment on his face when he knew it all—or suspected. His eyes widened, and his lips parted. “You’re her.”
My knuckles met his face with a sickening crunch. Pain bloomed up my arm, and Marshal Kellee collapsed into a heap, adding a nasty-sounding crack to the skull. I stepped over his motionless body and pressed my fingers to his neck—assuming he had a pulse where most humans did. His blood beat hot and fast beneath my touch.
His eyelashes fluttered, but his eyes stayed closed.