The Technician CH 4

Chapter Four: The House and the Hound
Liam was sweating in the noon sun as he climbed the hill. It had taken him longer than he had guessed to find his way out of town and he was regretting not bringing more water with him. He had returned to the inn to pick up his pack and inconspicuously give a report to the captain before heading out the back door to find Cheksova Lane but had only taken a small waterflask and food pack.
The town had obviously grown up without any planning and it was maze like which he found fascinating on an intellectual level and deeply frustrating on every other one. Streets would turn into others at random points and return to their original several blocks over. Just following Checksova lane to the edge of town had taken the better part of the morning.
Finding that the hill was across a few miles of grassy plains had been another surprise but the road continued straight and true to the edge of the forest. He followed it because it seemed to be the best plan but was always on the look out for traps and ambushes. There was no reason to expect the lady of the tower to be friendly to someone snooping around. And she obviously had the power and skill to make any trespasser's wanderings extremely unpleasant.
Better be extra careful, he cautioned himself as he finally entered the forest and started up the winding path. She's bound to be beautiful and tempting, he watched the edges of the woods suspiciously, sure he had just seen something move. They always are in the tales, witches and wizards alike. I'm sure something was just there, he stopped and looked at the dark shadows in the sun dappled trees. A bird chirped and he looked away for a second. When his gaze returned there was nothing there.
Mind is playing tricks on me, he decided, taking his hand off the hilt of the hunting knife sheathed at his side. Might as well accept that I'm being watched and they haven't killed me yet. No point in giving them any more attention. He shrugged to himself and focused on making it up the steep path, one booted foot in front of the other.
Things seemed to move much quicker then, as if he'd been walking the same stretch of road for hours and suddenly the loop stopped and he emerged onto the top of the hill, stopping to stare in disbelief.
What do you expect from a witch's house? He chided himself, looking up at the towering wall of hedge and wild wisteria. It stretched a good twenty feet and would be nearly impossible to climb. The vegetation was knotted and tangled in strange and unsettling shapes, thorns and dagger like fingers of branch gutting out in every direction. They looked sharp enough to cut through the thickest leather gloves and the thorns glistened with an unnatural purple sheen that promised death in every sharp cruel hook.
A long tendril of branch uncoiled as he watched, a lazily drifting invitation for him to come closer. The sweet scent of blossoms came over him, heavy and intoxication and oh so ever inviting, like the smell of a woman with open arms and open legs, just waiting to embrace a lover.
And rip him to pieces, he mused, both feet firmly planted on the ground. Now, where is that gate? He turned away from the tangled hedge and started off down the small road to the right. The hedge rustled and twisted in a rippling undulating that followed him, whispering and promising with every movement of flower against leaf and thorn against blossom.
Liam walked on the outside edge of the path but otherwise ignored it and after a while it seemed to give up. The hedge fell still and suddenly parted, rolling itself back like thick curtains to reveal an old wrought iron gate. It was just barely tall enough for Liam to go through without bending and seemed too convenient to be trusted.
He waited patiently, inspecting its joints and construction. There was something off about it that he couldn't quite place. Something about how the light it the bars and the ground behind them. Ah, he had it now, there is no break in the hedge's shadow, the gate is entirely an illusion.
He nodded to himself and started off down the path, trusting that when he came to the real front entrance it would be large and obvious. Though he wondered how he's gotten off the main road in the first place, he hadn't taken any side paths. The forest must have gotten the better of him, he reasoned, calmly walking down the path.
He would get where he wanted to go eventually, if he kept his wits about him.
A woman's voice called out from the woods on his right and he paused, listening. It came again, a plaintive cry for help and he almost stepped off the path. She was in danger, she needed him, he was the only one who could save her. She needed his strength and his courage and his agile body.
Liam pulled himself back from the edge, placing his foot firmly on the path and turning to continue on. He wasn't going to fall for something so obvious, his mother hadn't spent all those hours as a child telling him stories of the Other Folk and their games for nothing. Witches also preferred to deal in such trickery.
Setting his shoulders in a familiar stance of stubbornness, he headed resolutely forward. The hedge continued to whisper quietly at him and the woman begged with increasing frustration and he ignored them both. He was going to get to the gate and he was going to see this lady of the tower and he was going to get some answers and then he was going to leave.
A bird called ahead of him, a sharp screeching caw that set his teeth on edge. It didn't move from its perch on an overhanging branch as he approached, preening its feathers with casual grace. It reminded him strongly of the bird that had watched them in the woods the night before.
His hands itched for the worn leather handle of a gun or crossbow but he admitted to himself he was being jumpy. The bird gave seemed content to ignore him, perked above the path preening metallic plumage. Its garnet eyes were impossible to read.
"Bartholomew and Travis gave me wrong directions," Liam said, feeling ridiculous, a few feet from the bird's perch, "I am here to see the lady of the tower."
The bird cocked its head back and froth, inspecting him in turn with each garnet eye. "On business?" it cawed sharply, opening and closing its wings with a sharp rasp of metal on metal.
"Yes."
"Keep going. Stay on the path. Keep going."
Liam nodded and waited for more instructions or warnings, considering the trustworthiness of anything that had the body of a beast and the voice of a man. It reminded all to much of the stories he had heard growing up and had discounted as nonsense in his adult life. Something about this strange bit of coast had him feeling strangely nostalgic and wary of the unexplained.
I should give him an offering of thanks, he mused to himself, rubbing his scruffy chin. What would a mechanikal bird want? I don't have anything shinny... He remembered suddenly the sack of sunflower seeds in his pack and fished them out, not certain if the mechanikal bird would like them.
Shrugging, he scattered the seeds on the path and headed on his way, not looking back to see if the crow had taken his offering. Either way, it didn't hurt to be polite to the guardian's of this place.
He walked on as the sun rose and he began to tire. There was no good place to rest though, the path was hard and he didn't dare put his back against the hedge. The shade of the trees looked inviting and cool. Sweat dripped down his forehead and itched on his unshaved cheeks. It sounded like there was a stream nearby too and he could refill his waterbag and eat some of the bread and cheese tucked in his pack.
This is getting annoying, he grumbled to himself, shaking his head and walking on. Should have brought an axe and hacked though that blasted hedge.
"You should consider stopping," a smooth, articulate voice said.
Liam cursed under his breath, drawing his hunting knife and taking up a defensive stance. There was a massive hound sitting in the shadow of a overhanging in the hedge. Its black and grey fur gleamed like impossibly fine wire as it emerged into the sunlight on the path, tall wagging and mouth open to reveal teeth shaped from crystal.
"You'll never get to the gate just walking in circles as you've been," it said in a perfectly clear voice from an inhuman throat.  "though I admire your perseverance in the witch's trap. Most that fall into it end up tangled in the hedge." It raised bushy eyebrows and gave a strange barking laugh. "You humans and your strange perceptions, I can't understand how you can't see the magic at work and ignore it. Quite strange."
"We don't see magic," Liam said, easing back from the hound, knife still at the ready. "Your witch mistress uses that to ensnare the unwary."
The hound cocked its head to the side, wagging its tail back and forth furiously. "You seem to have been misinformed my friend," it said, laying down to put its head on folded paws. "The witch was no friend of mine, or any of us mechanikal beasts. The lady, now she is our friend, most definitively, quite a friend. I am Cerebus by the way and the crow is Severus. Do you have food for me too?"
Liam took a piece of salted meat from his pack and tossed it to the mechanikal hound. It sniffed the food for a second and then quickly dispensed of it. "Quite deliciously aged," Cerebus licked his chops and gave Liam a wolfish grin. "Now I suppose I should take you around front and let you in. You are here to see the lady on business correct?"
Liam nodded.
"Well, quite fantastic, she's been rather restless as of late and I'm sure you will bring her something interesting to do?" Cerebus wagged his tail harder and stood. "follow me then, human and try to keep up. The witch's spell is still strong enough to hold you if you're too slow."
Liam was just about to ask the hound some probing questions, when it bolted down the path in a silver black streak. It was incredibly fast and Liam had no real choice put to shut his mouth and sprint after him. If there was some magic afoot that kept him circling the hilltop, following the hound was the best way out of it without simply charging down the hill to take his chances in the forest.
"That's the ticket, keep running!" Cerebus called from somewhere ahead.
"Run! Faster, faster!" a harsh caw sounded behind him from the crow Severus and Liam put his head down and strove for another burst of speed.
The woods whipped past him in a blur and he felt like he was pressing against and unseen barrier. It stretched and stretched as he ran, the crow behind him the hound ahead, both urging him to new speeds. The barrier thinned and stretched as he pushed faster and faster and then suddenly with a sickening lurch and pop, he pushed through and staggered to a halt.
"Well done, sir!" Cerebus congratulated him, running back to lick his hand. "The gate is just a few paces on from here now!" he wagged his tail and smacked Liam in the legs as he slowly started forward, out of breath.
He was more tired than he had realized and the sun was much higher in the sky. It was a few hours after noon by now he guessed but the most surprising thing was the sudden appearance of a tall bronze gate in the center of the hedge, its doors open to let a road run straight through.
He could see it stretching down the hillside and over a series of small hills to the distant town. There were no offshoots he could see. How in Marinea's name did I get off the road? He shook his head and turned to the gate, chalking it up to whatever magic had kept him wandering around the small hilltop for hours.
"You had better go into the house now," Cerebus said, nudging him in the back of the knee. "We're not allowed in the house when she's working or I'd take you back to her shop. But you should be able to find it easily enough, stop to get some food in the kitchens if you'd like. Fighting the witch's spell always makes the townsfolk hungry and they just have to walk up the shielded road now."
"True, too true," the crow cawed and flew to the bronze gate. "always hungry, like us. More seeds?"
Liam shook his head. "I don't have any more. Do you like bread?" he pulled off his pack and brought out the wrapped bundle. "I'll share some of this with you though I don't know if you should eat cheese."
"We really shouldn't," Cerebus said but he licked his chops. "it wouldn't be polite to eat a guest's food."
"Hungry!" Severus crowed and pecked at the still covered loaf.
Liam couldn't help but smile as he unwrapped the bread and cheese. He took a few bites worth for himself but left the rest with the hungry pair of misfit animals. They had helped him out of a tight spot and he was grateful to be safely on the manor lawn with a straight shot up to the massive house.
Its more like a castle, he thought, taking a mouthful of cheese and bread and wishing he had some water as he started up the drive. The tall stone building had the feeling of a fortress with its dark gray walls and impressive height. It looked like it could hold off a good sized attack and the space between the hedge and the house were full of gardens overflowing with vegetables and fruit bearing trees. The place would be self sufficient he reasoned.
They're not flying any flags, he noted as he approached a series of steps to a massive set of doors standing half open. The tower in the center of the compound was several hundred feet of white stone, a thin tapering finger into the blue of the sky topped with what looked like an observatory judging by the massive spyglass looking thing protruding from one side.
Shrugging, he finished the bread and cheese and looked through the gap in the doors. The inside of the hall was dimly lit except for a few beams of sunlight from high windows, flows of golden swirling dust and there was a deep sense of quiet about it that made him hesitate before entering. Was it another trap set by the witch?
He slowly edged between the open doors and into the house, feeling that while there was magic in the air, it was not the black sickening magic of a witch. It was unnaturally abundant, almost as if there was a loadstone nearby but he knew the location of everyone of the magical sources in Umberth and there were none remotely near. The pure magical energy that was flowing through the air and earth was far to strong to be ambient energy given off in the normal way. It would be enough to power most systems such as the Nautilus's engines when brought in and focused but this magic was the deep steady flow of a leyline near a node.
Could the surveyors really have missed a loadstone here in Transavia? He moved as quietly as he could through the high hall, staying out of the light and looking at the elegant decorations with increasing puzzlement. They had a distinctly out of date feel to them, too heavy and full of dark somber tones when every town house he'd venture into was filled with pink and white and light blue. It felt as if the house had been standing frozen for years.
The floors were clean of dust though and there was none of the musty smell of abandonment. Someone was living here and taking care of the place though they obviously weren't too concerned with tidiness he thought as he rounded a corner and nearly tripped over a pile of copper plating and wires.   
The entire hall was lined on all sides with piles and heaps of every sort of clutter from teetering stacks of old leather bound books to jars of sand and stones and what looked like animal teeth. Wire and metal and leather and bags of feathers and old brass teapots and heaps of gears and random parts of engines and many things he couldn't identify.
The greasy parts and junk were piled haphazardly on velvet runners on marble floors, unconcerned with the stains forming everywhere. It looked as if a mad collector had simply dumped everything he could ever find just far enough inside the door to keep up appearances.
Picking his way carefully through the mess, he noted that many of the doors leading off the hall were blocked off with heavy iron bars. There were symbols of power and binding on them in silver and carved on the wood of the doors themselves. A shuddering horror passed through him as he walked by one particularly well warded door and strange scratching sounds escaped through the crack at the bottom, as if something was clawing to get out.
There is evil in this house, he shivered and moved quickly through the lonely hall and out a set of open doors. But its contained somehow, by something for good I would have to assume, he reasoned, stepping through a large brass archway to a garden so beautiful he was struck dumb.
There were roses everywhere, growing in fantastic shapes and sweeps of bough and bloom. Their blossoms where full and heavy in the spring air, red and pink and white and yellow and tinged with blue and every shade in between. The heavy sweet scent of their hearts filled the warm air with intoxicating warmth and peace and he found himself wanting to sink on to one of the many white marble benches and stare into the unnaturally large blooms for hours.
An impossibly tall, thin tower of white stone rose up from a mass of scarlet roses like a finger of bone scratching at the sky. It was beautiful and mesmerizing and all together disturbing. The air felt thick and clotted, cloying with the smell of roses and salt and the tang of sea.
Shuddering, he stayed on the path and walked around the tower and the maze like garden to another wing of the house. It was unsettlingly quiet he decided as he walked. There was no buzz of bees or the chirp of birds and he hadn't seen or heard another living soul since he had passed through the gate. But he felt watched, as he wandered to a rose bush and casually checked for insects on its leaves. There were none and he slowly straightened, looking around for the source of the heavy gaze on his back.
He couldn't find anyone though and with a mental shrug, decided to head into the second wing and continue to explore. No one came to stop him from pushing open the heavy doors and stepping into the cool dark. It was full of secrets and an oppressive weight that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He shuddered and returned to the courtyard. There was nothing good in that wing of the house and he carefully closed the doors like they had been. There was another wing though on the far side of the garden with its doors wide open and inviting.
Entering he found that it was well lit and just as full of clutter and randomly assorted junk as the main hall had been. The grandeur of old hidden and marred by the madness of whoever lived here. The lady must live in the front of the house where its been cleaned up, he reasoned as he wandered around the third wing, not finding so much as a mouse.
There were plenty of mostly empty rooms, furniture covered in dust and fireplaces full of soot but no sign of inhabitants. There had to be someone living here though he reasoned since the lights were on and the hallways themselves were free of dust.
The distant sound of hammering drifted over him from deeper inside the main part of the house and he headed resolutely in that direction. Hunger and weariness weighed on him as he picked his way through the forest of clutter and parts and he listened to the sound of life with increasing impatience.
"Of course the house had to be designed like a maze," he grumbled.
He was half surprised that nothing replied as he wandered from room to room, taking in an eclectic assortment of junk and clutter, and wound up walking straight into a ballroom without meaning to, setting off a magical trigger that made a musical ping.
He reflexively stepped back into the shadow of the door frame, searching for the source of the hammering. It was definitively coming from the somewhere in the mess of machine and metal that took up most of the massive room in different piles and jumbled heaps that had a vague sense of intention to them.
There, he moved to the left to get a better view of the pair of legs sticking out from under a tiny airship, barely a dozen feet long. It didn't look like it would ever be able to take off but he was more interested at the moment at the figure mostly hidden under it.
He couldn't even tell if the legs belong to a man or woman, they were so closely covered in a mix of pockets and pouches bulging with tools and magical paraphernalia.
"Give me a minute and I'll be right with you," a muffled voice shouted from under the airship. "I just have to finish this blast joint before the magic sets." The hammering picked up pace and a sudden flare of sparks and a low hum from one of the many machines littered around the ship flanked the announcement.
Liam shrugged, figuring he had stumbled upon one of the lady's servants, and took up a tense seat on one of the several couches. He kept his hunting knife at hand just in case this eccentric Contractor was dangerous. If he worked for the lady of the tower, he was probably safe enough but Liam was tired, hungry and grouchy and feeling in the mood to be paranoid.
"Almost done," the Contractor called from under the airship and a flurry of sparks blasted from under the airship, followed by a salvo of curses that almost impressed Liam.
A few seconds later, the figure rolled out from under the body of the craft on a wheeled board and stood to brush still bright sparks from a strained and grubby shirt. He still had an expertly crafted pair of goggles and a breathing apparatus on as he came over, stripping off heavily insulated leather gloves and tucking them into the heavy tool belt.
"Sorry about the wait, I'm Victoire," he said and stretched out a hand. Liam shook it uncertainly, looking over the strange individual. "You're not from around here, I know almost everyone in the town by now."
"I am from Lundoun," he answered hesitantly. "I'm here to see the lady of the tower."
The man laughed and shook his head, starting to strip off the goggles and heavy breather. "Well," he said, his voice rising from a muffled tenor to a warm alto, "I'm more like the girl of the garage but they mean well enough." A plain but strong face emerged from behind the gear and Liam stepped back in surprise. A bemused smile came over the girl's broad mouth and she pushed sweat soaked hair out of her eyes. "I get that reaction a lot."
"I'm not surprised," he growled, line appearing between his brows as he stared at the bizarrely dressed woman. She can't actually be wearing men's clothes, he told himself, staring at her worn jacket, a dingy shirt peeking over a much scared vest.
She shrugged and slung her gear on to a nearby table. "I may be young but I can fix anything for a fair price. You're here on business right?" he nodded, wariness beginning to replace his surprise. "Well set it out plainly and I'll get you a quote within a day or two. Not too busy at the moment."
Liam considered her, not sure whether she was a trick to distract him from wherever the witch was or technician or if she was actually the girl who had caused him so much tension and apprehension over the last few hours. She didn't fit the image he had constructed for a powerful magic user or anything else really.  This girl was barely out of her teens if that and tall, far too tall for beauty and her face was plain, and her hair was a ragged mop and she had a mouth perfectly suited for a sardonic twist and not given to the sticky sweet smiles he was used to from women.
The strange girl sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Travis must have made a mistake finally," she sighed. "You're not really here to get something fixed are you? I thought not. Well," she wandered to a stool a few feet away and plopped down, putting her chin in one grease stained hand, "since you're obviously from the military, Aeroforce branch if I had to guess, you are probably here to see about the witch."