VIVIANA WATCHED AS HER chief tinkerer made a final inspection of the improved white tiger automaton. She stood in the doorframe of what had once been Parliament’s assembly room. It made a rather spacious tinkering lab.

Viviana’s mind churned—only a fortnight until the Fair, and none of her various traps had yet caught their prey. Just when her efforts at tracking Sophia Castling had begun, the girl’s trail had gone cold. She had not, it seemed, been headed for the Dust Plains at all—and Viviana’s contact at the school had either been too stupid or too slow to realize it. Viviana’s hands clenched, as though to tighten themselves around a throat, whenever she thought of this failure; her spy would have much to answer for at the Fair. But even more distressing, and more immediate: she felt she could no longer trust the earnest efforts of the thin, long-faced man polishing the metal tiger in front of her very eyes.

“You have a son, Clarke?” Viviana asked, although she was already well aware of this fact.

“I do. His name is Lyle.”

“A good student, I’m sure,” she said. “Eager to learn from his father.”

“I’d like to think so,” answered Clarke. He stood back from the automaton. “There we are, completely reassembled. The tiger is ready for the Fair. Would you care for a demonstration, my lady?”

“Please,” murmured Viviana, stepping forward into the room.

Clarke turned to fetch a small controller with a red-jeweled handle from his worktable. He handed the controller to Viviana, and, before he could even move his hand away, Viviana pressed a button.

The mechanical tiger’s eyes lit up—a manufactured, glowing red. It growled, and turned its heavy metal head toward Clarke. Clarke went pale and backed up against the wall.

“My lady?” he asked, frightened.

Viviana’s mind was a swarm of buzzing bees. The automaton crouched, then raised itself up on its hind legs.

It swiped at Clarke before he could duck. Clarke screamed as the tiger’s steel claws left three deep slashes across his face. As the tiger backed away, Viviana stepped forward.

Clarke held his bleeding face in his palms.

“You’ve let some prototypes of the Catalyst go astray,” Viviana said. “Sending them to a nest of children as though they were toys! You risk exposing us!”

She pushed Clarke’s hands aside. The tiger had narrowly missed his left eye. Clarke whimpered in anguish as Viviana took his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her straight on.

“You’re an arrogant man, Clarke,” said Viviana. “And you need a reminder of whom you serve.”

Clarke groaned; it sounded almost like an apology under layers of anguish. She let go of his hands, which he pressed against his face.

“It was just a test model, my lady—I didn’t think any harm…I’m sorry.…” he whimpered.

“You will live out the rest of your days with caution. No more prototypes sent to places where they can be found by meddling children. Your life, and that of your son, will last only until I decide you are no longer useful. Until then, you will be a shadow. Reckon, Inc. is under my command now.”