Chapter Ten
Completely unaware of the interesting developments taking place in the Forge between Silas and Thea, Lyra Sinclair was as happy as she could be amongst the many books in the Gray library.
Silas was certainly an interesting man with a variety of his own interests, she had discovered.
There were the expected manuals, of course, Travers’ Treatise on Cogs, Gears, & How to Make them Work, which was the definitive volume found on every Forge-worker’s shelf, along with a couple of technical dictionaries, a handbook on different greases, and Annie’s Never-Fail Cures for Blisters, which made her chuckle.
Gen and Thim had found her, and Nelson had thoughtfully provided pencil and paper, so that the little girl could entertain herself by drawing images of her tickerkin.
The day passed smoothly and easily, which—for Lyra—was a rarity. And seeing Gen smiling and laughing? The best Christmas gift she could ever have asked for.
The last months had been difficult, to say the least, so these precious hours were a most welcome relief. She tried very hard to keep herself from wondering what would come next.
How easy it would be to get used to a home like this. Secure, warm, with the cleanest library in the Undercroft. Or at least it would be when she was done with it.
The scent of polish rose from every surface, and the gleaming shine made even Nelson blink.
“Mrs Sinclair,” he said as he peered around the door. “I can scarcely believe my eyes. You have worked wonders with this room.”
“I hope I didn’t disturb anything important,” she said, giving the last end table a thorough polish.
“Not at all, not at all.” Nelson’s head swung around as he surveyed the room, now glowing and scented with lemon. “It has never looked this lovely.”
“It was the least I could do,” she answered.
“How does one repay the kindness of strangers? There is really no way to thank someone who has saved one’s only child.
..” Her gaze rested on Gen, who had succumbed to a good lunch and a warm fire, and was now napping in one of the cosy chairs.
The faithful Thim sat motionless beside her on the floor.
Nelson’s ears rotated. “I believe there is someone at the door. Excuse me, Ma’am.”
“Of course.”
Lyra gave the little table a final swipe, then sat on a low stool by the fire. She would not betray nerves, she swore to herself. Whoever had come to the house probably had nothing at all to do with her and Gen, and it was silly of to think otherwise.
But she couldn’t help a brief shudder as a male voice sounded outside the room, and she quickly rose to stand next to her sleeping child.
The door opened, Lyra held her breath...and then a familiar face peered inside.
“Mr Fowler,” she sighed. “I was just...we were...” She glanced at Gen.
“You were warm and comfortable,” Hiram said softly. “And I have disturbed you.”
“No, no, not at all.” She whisked her dusting cloth out of sight. “I’m afraid we’re the only ones here at the moment...”
“Silas is always late,” he laughed. “And for once, I’m early. But please sit. Talk to me for a little while.”
“I...er...” Helpless before his warmth and gentle smile, she sat in one of the armchairs, and he took the other.
“It’s easy to see what you’ve been doing today.” His gaze roamed the room. “You’ve given Silas back his library.” He took a deep breath. “And it smells wonderful as well.”
“Nelson gave me the polish,” she nodded. “You’re right. It does make a difference, doesn’t it? When things smell right?”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He leaned back in his chair. “But this is the sort of conversation that makes me nervous.”
Lyra blinked. “You? Nervous? I find that very hard to believe, sir.”
“Indeed, I am.” He crossed his legs. “Polite conversation scares me, Mrs Sinclair. I’m very bad at it, you know. Always worried I’m going to say the wrong thing and offend someone.” He sighed. “When you’re my size, it’s hard not to attract attention, so making a fool of oneself is an added hazard.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about me,” she smiled. “I find your conversation delightful.”
He smiled back, a warm and genuine smile that reached places she thought had long withered away. “Forgive me if I’m being forward, but I find you delightful, Ma’am You and your daughter? Two beauties, one in full bloom, the other just beginning to bud.”
Lyra felt the colour heat her cheeks. “You’re too kind,” she murmured.
“Just telling you what I see,” he replied calmly. “And of course I see a woman who has more than her fair share of troubles.” He glanced pointedly at her leg. “I’d like to ask about that, but I would be worried it might upset you.”
She thought for a moment. “It was two years ago,” she began. “It’s a silly story, and I fear I shall bore you with it...”
Hiram shook his head. “You could never bore me, Mrs Sinclair.”
“Lyra, please? If I’m going to talk about this, please call me Lyra. I shall feel more comfortable...”
“Then Lyra it shall be, provided you honour me the same way.”
His smile. Great gears, the man had a smile that could light a fire from a dozen yards, and Lyra had no way of resisting its appeal. So she nodded. “Thank you, Hiram.”
“Good. Now. Tell me your story?” He glanced across the room. “Before Gen awakens.”
She nodded. “Yes. That would be best.” She settled herself in her chair and gazed at the fire for a few moments, gathering her thoughts.
“It begins with a foolish girl who dreamed of a life she thought she would never have...”
*~~*~~*
Hiram watched Lyra as she began her tale, paying attention to her words, even as he devoured every expression on her face. He’d known, as soon as he’d seen her at the Depot, that she was special. And picking her up, carrying her, cemented that belief.
Silas hadn’t teased him about it, which was a relief, since his friend knew of his propensity to take care of those less fortunate.
Wounded creatures were his weakest cog, and had been since he’d found his first kitten here in the Undercroft.
How long ago that had been. And how many little creatures had he helped since then? He’d lost count.
Right at this moment, he had a mama cat in a soft and comfortable bed, nursing her newborn kittens. A thought flashed through his head, and for a tiny instant of time, he could see Gen carefully minding them all.
He focussed on Lyra. “So you were raised on the second level?”
“I was. My parents were terribly strict, of course. They weren’t quite as well off as their neighbours, and I think it galled them, especially when there were new carriages or gowns to be shown off at various events.
And they wanted me to marry well.” His gaze fell to her hands, restlessly pleating the fabric of her gown.
“So they found a man they considered eligible. He seemed...nice. And he had a substantial income, which was all my parents needed to know.”
“So you were married?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “A wedding that fulfilled all my mother’s dreams.”
“I sense that this story does not have a happy ending,” said Hiram quietly.
She shrugged slightly. “In the beginning it was...all right. And I found out I was going to have a child, which pleased my husband and my family.”
“But?”
“But my husband had a secret. He gambled. And by the time I had Gen, he had lost a lot of money, and developed obligations he could not meet.”
“That was...six or seven years ago, though?” encouraged Hiram.
Lyra nodded. “Yes. And when Gen was two, we moved to another house, down on Level Three. Less accommodating, but also less expensive.”
“Let me guess. There was no improvement...”
“Well, for a while there was. For a couple of years he managed to control his addiction—I know now that’s what it was—and Gen grew up mostly seeing her Papa in a positive light.”
Hiram sighed. “But you both are here. So...”
“So that brings us to last year.” She shivered a little and leaned back into the depths of the warm chair. “I knew he was gambling again. It was obvious. The food money shrank, more of our things vanished, only to end up at the local used goods market, and none of it was replaced.”
“I’m sorry,” said Hiram quietly.
She shook her head. “The situation worsened rapidly, to the point where people started coming to our door. It was...it was frightening, Hiram. Very frightening for both Gen and me.” She took a breath.
“One night, we could hear people coming, and my husband rushed us out to his carriage. He swore he’d repaired the power supply in it himself, and told us we’d just drive around until they left, then go home. ”
Obeying an impulse, Hiram leaned forward and easily reached across the distance between them. He took her hand, finding it ice cold, and folded it into his to warm it.
She couldn’t meet his eyes, but she carried on.
“We drove away fast, faster still, and yet they were still behind us, pursuing, shouting...” She shuddered.
“The front carriage wheel broke. Smashed to pieces. Threw us all to the ground. I remember little else other than holding onto Gen as tightly as I could. Nobody was going to take her away from me.”
“Easy, dear lady.” The tears were there, but she managed to hold them at bay.
“My husband was dead. My leg shattered. But Gen was unharmed, a miracle given the severity of the crash.” She sighed. “Thanks to the kindness of friends, I had a chance to heal, at least. I was told by one doctor I’d never walk again, but I swore I’d prove him wrong.”
“And you did. Look at you now.” Hiram shook his head. “You’re an amazing woman, Lyra.”
She managed a weak chuckle. “Not really. Just determined, I suppose. Anyway, they did what they could for me in the hospital, and then Gen and I moved to a different sort of facility. Especially for people with handicaps, like me. And I worked there to earn my and Gen’s keep.
It was hard work, but I learned quickly how to clean and do all the things necessary to help the other residents.
” She sighed. “Many of them were worse off than me, Hiram. It was a sad place.”
“So why did you come down here?”
“A fair question,” she nodded. “I had reached a point where I was exhausted. Just completely worn out. And I was starting to worry that I couldn’t care for Gen as well as I’d like.
So I took a chance and responded to an advertisement for a cleaner/housekeeper position on Level Five.
On the way there, Gen and I were separated.
..” She looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears.
“And that’s when our luck changed, and you and Mr Silas rescued us. ”
“Miss Thea rescued me, Mama. And Thim too. Don’t forget that.” Gen’s voice drifted through the air.
“That’s quite right, Gen,” chuckled Hiram. “I see you weren’t sleeping as soundly as we thought.”
The little girl yawned, then slid off the couch and ambled over to his chair. “It’s nice and warm here. Made me sleepy.” She leaned against his shoulder and smiled at her mother. “Then I heard you talking, Mr Hiram. And it made me feel good, knowing you’d keep me and Mama safe. Right, Mama?”
A gentle tiktok heralded Thim’s awakening, and it scurried over to Gen with what could only be called affection. It stood next to her, and she absently reached down to take the claw it extended.
Lyra’s eyes met his — emerald seas, beautiful, and filled with emotions he couldn’t begin to name.
That, thought Hiram later, was the exact moment his heart stopped, then started up again in a completely different and wonderfully unexpected rhythm.