Chapter 3

 

“Seein’ as you got the position, I guess I’ll head back home.” Graham jumped from the ground and reached inside a mud-soaked pocket.

A scratching noise preceded three clicks. Sulfurous smoke seeped into the air. Serah guarded her nose against a stench that stung her nostrils.

One end of the object Graham held produced a blue flame. The smelly neon light spread, illuminating a small area of forest surrounding them, including the mysterious device.

Serah’s hand fell away from her face. “Graham, why didn’t you say you had a mechanical torch?”

He rubbed a smudge from the torch’s brassy exterior, and shrugged. “Guess I didn’t need it till now.”

“Where did you get an instrument like that?”

Grinning, Graham passed her by, and continued walking. He glanced over his shoulder. “It was a gift.”

“From whom?” Serah said, shuffling to catch up.

The blue glow darkened tree trunks and lightened the dried-up leaves. Shadows cast peculiar shapes across the forest floor.

Serah huffed as she pulled her dress from the jagged end of a log. “Who sent you the torch, Graham?”

He chuckled. “What would you say if I told you Machin gave it to me?”

“I’d say hogwash. I found you halfway through the forest, on your way to his cottage.”

“Yes, you did, but he gave it to me yesterday.”

Serah crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you.”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ you would, which is why I kept proof.”

“What proof?”

Graham pulled from his pocket a square paper stitched through with a loop of twine, and handed it to her. “I found this yesterday mornin’. It was attached to the torch. That word at the end—I know it says Machin ’cause it looks just like the signature at the end of the sign. The one you read to me about the ’prenticeship.”

He hovered the torch above the paper.

Words sounded carefully from Serah’s lips. “This torch will light the way from your end of the forest to mine. I wish you the best, Machin.” Her lips pulled back in horror. What could this mean? Did Machin intend for Graham to be his apprentice? Or was the torch meant for me?

“Machin must have known I’ve been livin’ in the trees that border the edge of the village proper,” said Graham.

Life drained from Serah’s face, accompanied by a sick feeling in her stomach. Unsure what to say, she handed Machin’s message back to him.

“You believe me now, yeah?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she said.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s a useful gift, and I don’t blame Machin one bit for wantin’ you as his ’prentice instead of me.”

Serah turned her head to the side to hide the tear that slid down her cheek. After swiftly wiping the droplet away, she followed in silence.

 

Once their footsteps touched the edge of the forest, Graham paused near a stream. He bent down to rinse a metal cup, filled it with water, and offered it to Serah.

“I can walk you the rest of the way to your home,” he said.

Serah accepted the cup. As the cool, sweet water trickled down her throat, she took in the hammock of woven rags tied between two trees. Her glance fell to the ground, to a pile of additional metal cups and bowls.

“No, that’s not necessary,” she said. “I can find my way there.”

Graham pushed out his lower lip. “You never know who’s out at night. There are probably more people wanderin’ the village than hidin’ behind the trees. I’ll walk you anyway.”

“No, really.” She thought quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to run out of fuel for your torch.”

“That’s the funny thing, Serah. It never does. I click this switch and it lights. I click it again and it snuffs. I’ve looked it all over—there’s no place to add sulfur.”

Serah sucked in a breath. The torch glowed as brightly as when it was first lit. Had there been any doubt, or hope, that this was not a gift from Machin, it evaporated.

Graham took her arm in his. “Come on. Your parents will be expectin’ you. They’ll want to know all about your new position.”

“No, I—” Guilt stirred her insides, but she couldn’t bring herself to finish her explanation. It was bad enough that she had a home—a house with a real bed, and clothes, and parents—whereas Graham did not. She closed her eyes, letting Graham lead the way.

They stepped out into the village. The canopy of trees receded under a sky that glittered with stars. Houses, their lights extinguished for the night, slumbered by a street that ran alongside a narrowed section of the stream.

Moonlight mixed with the torch’s blue glow. Hounds and goats looked up from beds of dust and grass as the pair walked by. Foraging felines raised their noses to the air and mewed at the trail of sulfur left behind. Graham shooed one of the cats, a brave shorthair, who’d begun to follow. Its eyes shined sapphire-gray before it turned and sprang for the shadows.

At the end of the street, the stream poured into a river and disappeared beneath a cart bridge. A wooden sign pointed across the bridge, to farmlands and a town with a market and an inn.

Graham’s footsteps slowed to a halt. He freed his arm from Serah’s, dipped the torch nearer the ground and smiled. Several holes, each slightly larger than Serah’s hand, rested between the edge of the stream and a house. Water inside the holes gleamed under the blue light.

“If I hadn’t been watchin’ my step in the dark, I might have missed those,” he said. “Is that more of your handicraft?”

A blush spread across Serah’s cheeks. She squeezed her hands together behind her back and nodded, hoping he wouldn’t ask more on the subject.

“There’s no shame in knowin’ a useful skill.” When this didn’t prompt a response, he glanced up at the house. “Here you are, safely home.”

Serah’s attention flashed back and forth between Graham and the door. “Thank you for walking me.”

He moved to shove his hands in his pockets but only managed to bury the one that was wasn’t holding the torch. “It was nothin’. Cheers again on the ’prenticeship.”

Serah nodded as he turned to leave. “Wait, Graham.”

“Yes?”

“I promise to put in a good word for you—with Machin—for when he needs another apprentice.”

“Thank you. That’s kind. And—” He freed his pocketed hand and nudged her chin upward. “Cheer up. Machin chose you. Things will only get better.”

Serah’s flicker of a smile was no match for Graham’s unwavering grin.

“Well, goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight.”

His brows furrowed at her frozen stance. He gestured toward the door. “Aren’t you goin’ inside?”

“Oh—I thought I might stay here and gaze at the stars for a while longer.”

He looked up at the sky and shrugged before smiling again and taking the street back to the forest.

Serah rubbed the chill from her arms and exhaled as he walked away. She approached the door and glanced over her shoulder, squinting for the blue light in the distance.

Graham’s right, it has to get better. The apprenticeship begins in two weeks. I’ll have a new home. But I am no longer welcome here at this one.

She reached out and traced her finger along the letter K, the only symbol etched into the family’s nameplate—nailed to a door that she hadn’t entered in days.