Chapter 8

 

Machin scraped a hand brush across the tabletop and guided the shards into an open pouch. After the last splinter of glass reflected light from overhead, he pulled the pouch’s strings together and tied it to his work belt.

The remaining lanterns—those that were still lit as well as the puzzle Serah had yet to solve—shined smudge free.

Serah rubbed her eyes and exhaled, waiting for further instruction.

“Well now,” said Machin. His palms smacked together briskly. “When you’ve finished mid-meal with Gelsey, you may attend to your earlier project.”

“To unseal the lantern with the copper frame?”

“Yes, that will be sufficient work for today,” said Machin. His lips bore a faint smile.

“What will happen to the lantern that broke?” Her eyes narrowed as she searched Machin’s face.

He glanced at the pouch on his work belt. “I will attend to it.”

Serah nodded and licked her lips, uncertain whether it would be appropriate to inquire further. She longed to solve the puzzle of the sealed lantern—unlit but also impenetrable and unbroken, unlike the remains of the lantern that had burned out. Why the difference? “And how do I light this one?” she mused, staring at the lantern on the table.

Machin slipped away at the same time the aroma of vegetables and meat tickled Serah’s nose. She shook her head back and forth in an attempt to ignore Gelsey’s cooking. Her mind buzzed with curiosity about the lanterns, but the growl of her stomach was stronger, and twice as loud.

“Serah,” called Gelsey. “Mid-meal is ready.”

The girl’s lips pinched together in a frown as she tore herself from her task to help Gelsey set the table.

 

With mid-meal sitting happily in her belly, Serah returned to the lantern. Her finger traced the glass wedged inside the copper frame. “How do you become one of those?” she whispered, stealing a glance at the lights overhead.

She frowned, wondering what would happen to her if she failed. Her eyes watered from staring at the empty globe. She’d tested every inch of the seal, and the outdoor light had begun to fade when she heard a mumbling from behind her—a mumbling with Machin’s voice. Seeing as I’m not getting anywhere with this, I might as well see what he’s up to and if he could use my help.

Serah slowed her footsteps as she neared the warmth of the furnace where Machin’s words could be heard more clearly.

“Light and soul,” he muttered, followed by the scratching and sprinkling of glass. “Encased in a vessel that returns to dust.”

Serah frowned. Such words were strange to her ears. What could he mean? Is he talking about the lanterns and their light?

Instead of making her presence known, she tucked herself behind the heavy border of the archway that led to the furnace, and peeked out along its edge.

The pouch at Machin’s belt was open. With his gloved hand, he reached inside and grabbed a handful of shards and poured them into the largest pepper grinder Serah had ever seen. He twisted the top of the grinder, crunching the shards into glittering particles. Grains of glass fell from the bottom of the grinder into a bucket wedged between Machin and the furnace.

Serah’s fingernails pressed into the archway’s wooden frame as she watched, her mouth hung open.

“Life returns to light and light becomes life,” said Machin. He set aside the grinder and poured the contents of the bucket inside the mouth of the furnace. “And so, we begin anew.”

The light from the furnace changed from orange, to blue, to a dazzling white. The room grew warmer with each transition of color until the air was too hot to breathe.

Machin set down the bucket and mopped his forehead with a moth-eaten rag.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, he turned around and looked straight into Serah’s eyes. “May I help you with something, Serah Kettel?”

“I—no, I mean,” she stuttered. “Goodnight, Master Machin. I—I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll be going to bed now.”

He nodded, his expression curious and kind, though he offered no words of explanation. And Serah didn’t wait for a response. She gathered the folds of her dress and shot past Machin and the furnace, and vanished through the hatch.

 

Serah shivered beneath her covers despite the heating coils that made the room pleasantly warm. She tossed and turned, worrying whether she’d be turned away before she completed her task to open and light the lantern. And then, what? I’ll be back where I started, which is no place at all.

She let the tears that welled up fall freely along her cheeks. Before she could wipe them away, there was a knock at the door. Serah closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

After another knock, the door creaked. Serah’s eyes popped open. A thin line of blue light shone through a crack in the doorway.

“Serah, dear?” Gelsey said. “I was going to offer you a warm drink before bed, but you disappeared so quickly.”

Not wanting Gelsey to know she’d been crying, Serah pressed her eyelids tightly together and kept quiet.

“Serah?”

Her heart warmed at Gelsey’s kindness. She’d almost decided to accept Gelsey’s offer, or to at least say goodnight, when a second set of footsteps echoed through the tunnel.

“Machin,” Gelsey whispered. “Did something happen to Serah? Is she well?”

“Let the girl rest.” He sighed. “I expect Serah Kettel will be leaving us soon.”

“Oh. I see.”

With a thud, the door closed, muffling the sounds of further conversation.