Chapter 6
The large crucible was heavy and hotter than Thomas imagined a sinner’s punishment would be. The whole building was stiflingly hot, with the June sun blasting down on its roof as well as the many fires inside.
Working at the kiln, Thomas was pouring the metal into the next receptacle that would now go into the smelter itself, where the rest of the impurities would be burned off and the copper would finally emerge.
He used the handle on a tipping machine that Troy had made for them, reducing the time of carrying smaller crucibles around the smelter floor.
This way, the kiln emptied into the smelter’s crucible, which was then pulled along on chains to the smelter, where it was inserted into the blazing heat again and other chemicals were added.
“That looks good,” Ethan said, appearing beside Thomas as though by magic. “Maybe now the mosquito will go away.”
It was his new nickname for Mr. Rossi, who was driving Ethan and Thomas quite mad.
He kept popping up like some deranged mosquito and buzzing in their ears.
As though they needed to be reminded that they were behind.
They knew it and were working as quickly as possible to be safe and yet make quota.
The smelter had been in operation for a week, and Thomas thought they were doing very well. Already there were at least two stacks of copper bars in the storeroom at the back.
“Ah, there you are,” came the familiar annoying voice.
Thomas groaned. “Here we go; our daily reminder.”
“I think I’m going to imagine what a vacation away from here would be like. Maybe I’ll picture going to the beach,” Ethan said as Mr. Rossi made his way to them.
The smelter was no place for bureaucrats. Hard boots, leather aprons, and gloves, and recently Ethan had insisted that everyone wear glasses to protect their eyes from flying grit.
“Mr. Rossi,” Ethan called as Thomas began to reload his crucible for the next round of ore. He loaded it with the finely crushed rock powder that came from the crusher out back and then began to add the chemicals very carefully. If he made a mistake, there could be dire consequences.
“Ethan, I’m glad I found you,” Mr. Rossi said. “I was worried you would be hard to find.”
“I’m here all day, almost every day,” Ethan said a little snappishly. “We all are.”
Thomas wondered if his bad mood was because he wasn’t able to see much of Diane lately. Just like Thomas was struggling to find the time to see Clary.
“Yes, I wanted to speak to you about the latest samples,” Rossi said, watching Thomas. “Should he be doing that like that—guessing?”
Thomas stood and regarded the stuffy little man in his silly suit and soft shoes. He raised a brow. “With all due respect, Mr. Rossi. I know how to do my job, and I do it well. So, unless you have something concrete against me?—”
“What Thomas means is that he takes great pride in his work, and the way he does it is perfectly fine,” Ethan interrupted, shooting him a look.
He was right. Thomas couldn’t really afford to be mouthy, so he nodded and shut his tongue behind his teeth even though it was dripping with angry words.
In Thomas’s mind, a lot of the disaster that had destroyed the other smelter had been Rossi’s fault.
If the man wasn’t always around nitpicking, they could get their jobs done in record time.
They might have noticed what was set in place to start the fire that gutted the building.
The chemical stores hadn’t been set ablaze by any negligence or accident.
Thomas was certain that, having been given peace and quiet to do their jobs, the smelter workers would have seen something, noticed something, and been able to stop the disaster from ever happening.
But with Rossi buzzing in their ears about production schedules and targets, and hovering around them like he did, it was almost impossible.
Turning his back on the man, Thomas lifted the crucible by pulling on a chain and then opened the door to the kiln. The heat came out like a red-hot hand and seemed to shock Rossi. He stumbled away from it, turning with a look of surprise and horror on his face.
“That’s scorching!” he protested.
“It sure is,” Thomas agreed. “It has to be to melt everything.”
“Can we talk in your office?” Rossi asked.
Ethan shrugged and gestured for him to lead the way. Then he turned to Thomas and smiled. At least Ethan wasn’t about to scold him for that little lesson he had taught Rossi.
“Well done,” Trevor said. He was working the smelter across from Thomas. “The pompous a?—”
“Don’t; he could still hear,” Thomas cautioned.
Trevor smiled. “So, how are things going with Clary?”
“Well,” Thomas said. “When we can see each other.” He closed the kiln door. Now he had to wait. He thought of her and smiled. Clary seemed to be able to brighten his day no matter what was going on.
“You got lucky there,” Trevor said, reading his thoughts. “You could have ended up with the sister.”
Thomas and Trevor stood back where they could watch the kiln and the smelter to make sure nothing went wrong.
“Her sister is quite something,” Trevor continued, grinning.
He had sandy hair and a big smile that wasn’t entirely friendly.
“I was playing a harmless game of poker with Felix last night. You know for tokens, not money, and she was putting on quite the show. I think that old codger has finally met his match.”
“Really?” Thomas asked, a little afraid of what he might hear. “Is that what she’s doing with her time?”
“It seems so. She’s playing cards every chance she gets. I thought she would be running the stagecoaches with her sister, but when I asked her about it, she just snapped at me to mind my own business.”
“They had a little falling out,” Thomas admitted, not wanting to add to the rumor mill too much. So far there was plenty for it to work on as it was.
“Ah, right,” Trevor said, nodding. He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I hope they make up soon. It’s sad to see her like that. Evelyn, I mean. She’s a nice girl, but she’s coming across all wrong—reckless, relentless, rowdy—if you take my meaning.”
Was Trevor actually trying to be kind? It seemed he was.
Thomas wondered if Clary knew about what Evelyn was up to and wasn’t interfering because of what he had said. Had he been wrong? He wondered if he should suggest that they step in together and try to help Evelyn.
“I’ll have a word with her.”
“Good,” Trevor said. “Maybe that will work. Ross is mighty keen on her for saving his life, but he’s not too impressed with her behavior. She’s acting like a sheltered child that’s been let loose.”
“That’s what she is,” Thomas said without thinking.
Trevor looked at him with a frown. “She is? I thought … I don’t know. Well, see what you can do, for her own sake.”
Thomas nodded. “I will. Clary did her best with her sister, you know, but Evelyn is headstrong, and she doesn’t seem to care about the consequences of her actions because she’s never been held responsible.
” He didn’t know why he was defending her to Trevor; he just felt that any blemish on Evelyn’s name would reflect poorly on Clary too.
“Well, I admire Clary for her work ethic,” Trevor replied. “Running a couch route to the nearby farms is a great idea. I spoke to a lot of the folks using it this morning, and they are so happy with her service. Really, with her and Ben driving, they feel much safer coming to Unity each day.”
Thomas smiled. “I’m so glad they feel that way. I’ll tell her for sure.”
Trevor nodded. “Well, I’d better go and stoke that fire.”
Looking across at the smelter’s temperature gauge, Thomas could see it was on the bottom end of ideal and nodded.
How was he going to get through to Evelyn? It just didn’t seem like something he could do. Could anyone make her see sense, or was she one of those people who had to hit their head hard before they could see the error of their ways?
He sighed. He had the rest of his shift to think about it.
At the end of his shift, Thomas went to the staff room. It was a lounge area where they could sit when taking a break. There was a potbellied stove in the far corner along with a little kitchenette for them to make coffee.
Along the opposite wall was a bank of narrow, tall closets that worked as lockers for them. He opened his locker and hung up his leather apron and his gloves. He swapped out his reinforced boots for his usual ones and wiped the grime and dirt from his face on a rag.
“Got plans tonight?” Ethan asked as he made himself a cup of coffee at the kitchenette.
“I’m stopping by the boarding house to have dinner with Clary,” Thomas said, smiling. “She should be heading out on her last run to the farms just now, and then I’ll see her when she gets back.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Ethan said wistfully. “I can’t wait to marry Diane so that we can spend some time together.” He chuckled sadly. “One of these days, we’ll set a date.”
Thomas smiled. “I’ll cross my fingers for you.”
“And I hope that you and Clary continue to get along and can help her sister a little.”
“Ah, you heard about that,” Thomas said, folding up some things that had fallen in his locker. That was odd; he was a neat man. His locker was never messy. His hand closed on something papery. He drew it out.
Ethan nodded. “Everyone knows. She needs some help. She’s causing trouble with Felix. He’s getting out of hand again, and Emily is not happy.”
Thomas sighed. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” It was a note. Thomas unfolded it and read what it said.
Ice shot through his veins, and Thomas felt oddly weak, as though all of his strength had been sapped out of him in a breath.
He swallowed hard. Ethan was speaking, a low drone in his ears, but he couldn’t make out the words over the rushing of the blood in his head.
It felt as though every last drop was between his ears, and his head would soon explode from the pressure.
“Thomas? Are you okay?” Ethan asked. He was standing beside Thomas, looking worried.