Chapter 8

 

Jared opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Dark curls fell against his forehead as he shrugged forward. He pushed them back and frowned.

“It’s okay,” said Tori, pointing to the bag. “I brought tools with me.” She didn’t want to startle him by digging in with the cutting tools, so she pulled out the stethoscope.

Jared’s hands pressed against the glass, his lips slightly parted, as he watched Tori slip the earbuds in her ears and smooth out the stethoscope’s tubing.

“You’ve seen one of these before, right, Jared?”

His lips stretched into a smile. He brushed his head forward, mouthing words she couldn’t hear.

“Just a second.” She placed the chest piece on the lantern in front of Jared, covering his face and shoulders. “Now, say that again.”

“That’s genius,” he said. His voice was soft, a whisper. Given his tiny size, Tori had expected his voice to be high and squeaky like a cartoon chipmunk. But it was smooth and much deeper. Her shoulders and neck tingled. He sounded more mature than the guys at school.

“I can hear you,” she said. “Say something else.”

“Thank you, Tori, for finding me.”

A swarm of butterflies fluttered inside her chest. She didn’t need to use the stethoscope to hear her own heartbeat. She slid the chest piece to the right and looked more closely at Jared within the light of the lantern. Less startled than the first time she’d encountered him, she was better able to make out his features. The outline of his body and planes of his face were well-defined. But they weren’t exactly lifelike. In some ways, he looked softer, lighter, like a hologram of spirit or ether.

Words spilled out of her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. “What are you?”

“I’m not sure. I remember being a person, an apprentice for a mechanical scientist.” His dark eyes clouded with sadness. “And I was happy until my master, Machin, gave me a job tending his lanterns. His shop was filled with them, great and small, crafted with various materials. Some had colored glass and were decorated with fine metals and jewels. I cleaned and took care of the lanterns that were lit and let Machin know if any burned out. He removed the unlit lanterns from the shop and I never saw them again.”

Stunned, Tori stood and gaped while listening to Jared’s story.

“Machin promised he’d make me whole again if I figured out how to open his newest find so he could light it. At first I was surprised because he hadn’t let me handle any of the unlit lanterns; but I didn’t think much of it, figuring this one was new and unused.” He knocked on the glass. “From what I can tell, the lantern looked a lot like this one. I was pleased when I’d discovered how to open it, using the light of the moon. That’s the last thing I remember until you showed up here.”

Questions buzzed inside Tori’s mind. “What do you mean by ‘whole again’?”

Jared lifted his right pant leg. “I was in an accident when I was six years old. A horse trampled me, breaking my bones and tearing through skin. I got an infection, but my sister thought it would heal on its own. Gangrene set in. I made it to a doctor’s in time, but I lost my leg.”

“But you have a leg,” said Tori. “It looks fine to me.”

Jared looked down and frowned. “No, I lost it—everything from my foot up through my knee.”

Covering her mouth, Tori sniffed in a breath as nausea clenched her stomach. The cool air helped, but it wasn’t enough ease her mind of the extent of Jared’s amputation.

“This isn’t my leg and I’m not myself,” he continued. “If I am a regular person, then how can I survive in here without food or water? I don’t know what I’ve become.”

“I could try and get you out—I brought a crowbar and a metal cutter.”

Jared shook his head. “I’d tried similar tools when given the task of opening lanterns like this; they were no use. The metal and glass are made of materials so dense that no tool would work. I had to resort to alternate forms of technology.”

“Like what?”

“I used a method I’d learned from Machin, a bending of light that could pass through glass. What I didn’t know was that the light had somehow enveloped me and brought me inside along with it.” He clenched his fists. “If this is his idea of a joke—that being trapped in here with two good legs is enough to make me whole—then he will pay when I get out.”

“Where is Machin? Where does he live?”

“In the same village where I grew up, Havenbrim.”

Tori wrinkled her nose. That doesn’t sound like a real place. “Havenbrim,” she repeated, still doubtful. Even if she were able to help him out of the lantern, she had no idea how they’d get him home. She cleared her throat as another question came to mind. “What was your idea of being made whole? I mean, what did you think Machin would do to fix your leg?”

Jared’s eyes brightened. “Machin was a master at mechanical things. He could make machines that did anything you could imagine. All I’d wanted was a leg made of metal with gears that moved and parts that could bend—just like a real knee and ankle. Before that, I had to hobble around with crutches or a peg leg.”

“I know you said the tools you used in, um, Havenbrim didn’t open the lantern you worked on, but do you mind if I try the ones I have anyway? You never know. At least we can say we tried.”

Jared shrugged. “Seeing as I don’t have any other plans tonight, I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, great! I’ll need to lower you from the pole first.” Tori twisted the stethoscope around her neck and removed the handle of the lantern from the pole. She set it on the ground before pulling the crowbar out of the bag, and then wedged the hooked end of it against the lower lip of the lid. Gritting her teeth, she yanked. Nothing budged. She tried repeatedly until beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She mopped them with her sleeve. “Well, you’re right about the crowbar,” she grumbled. “Doesn’t work.”

She tried the metal cutter next. Her best efforts resulted in scraping sounds that made Jared press his hands to his ears.

Tori gave up and sat on the ground. She picked up the lantern and cradled it on her lap before setting up the stethoscope so she could hear him again. “I’m sorry, Jared. I tried.”

“I appreciate your effort. I wish I knew what to do from here.”

“Me too.” She shivered.

“Are you cold?” Jared’s face filled with concern.

“It’s getting chillier out here. Late too. I should probably start walking back to my grandmother’s house soon.”

The lantern glowed brighter, giving off both heat and light. Warmth and comfort seeped through Tori’s skin much like being wrapped in an electric blanket. Her eyes widened.

“How did you do that?”

Jared shrugged.

“Do you feel warmer?”

“Not really. I don’t feel much of anything in here.” He lifted his legs, bending his knees one at a time. “I can’t feel myself standing either.”

“Do you know how the light turns on and off?”

Jared shook his head.

“So strange,” Tori mumbled. She squeezed the lantern as if giving her brother Kimmy a goodnight hug, and then pulled back and pressed her nose to the glass. “I wish I knew how to help you. I’ll come back tomorrow night. Maybe we’ll come up with something then, okay?”

“Thank you, I would like that.”

Tori turned her head so he couldn’t see her blush. She tucked the tools back inside the nursing bag. “Goodnight, Jared,” she said as she hung the lantern back in its place.