Salvage ~ V1: Nuts and Bolts (Steampunk/ Gaslamp Romantasy ~ F/M, M/M)

Chapter 1: Can You Do Any Magic?

Ordinary machines engineered by the often brilliant minds of ordinary people were not the most advantageous application of Kazia's unique skills, but they were her current responsibility.

She leaned her forehead against the wooden hull of the threshing machine and noted that she may have a touch of sunburn there. The gentle breeze, welcome on this overly warm spring day, blew into a brief gust and pulled a forelock of her dark hair out from under the braid that wreathed her head.

She ignored the hair now blowing across her face and took a moment to acknowledge the sounds of the barnyard - chickens, goats, the breeze rustling the hay. From a far distance came the sounds of workmen in the village square setting up for tomorrow's holiday.

She switched on the engine then and it roared to life, drowning out all other sound. Circling the cart, she turned her mind to the machine and felt for the psychic traces of human creativity in its levers, its pulleys, and its gears.

Her real expertise lay in those Artifacts that blended ordinary mechanics with the magic of the Alchemists. Those carried a stronger, deliberately placed piece of their makers' hearts - or souls, perhaps - than these workaday inventions.

Kazia had been born with a talent for reading the hearts of others, of feeling what they felt as strongly as if those feelings were her own. But people hurt more often than not, and reading them often hurt Kazia. Better to keep to herself and tinker with the machines. She read them in much the same way that she could read people, but they were by far less complicated.

Despite its lack of a strong psychic imprint, the thresher would be an easy fix. Kazia could almost pinpoint the problem with her ears, no empathic talent required.

As she opened the side panel to expose the mechanism, she felt a human presence nearing. Neiphi, the young daughter of the farmer Ardel Gewalt, approached quietly and stood watching Kazia at the thresher.

Neiphi's education was also Kazia's responsibility, another benefit she brought to Ardel's farm in exchange for her room and board. Something was agitating the girl, just enough to start a creeping pressure up the back of Kazia's neck. Kazia turned and beckoned Neiphi over. At twelve years of age, Neiphi stood shoulder-high to Kazia, so she bent down to be heard over the engine.

"Listen!" she shouted into Neiphi's ear. "Can you hear it?"

Neiphi leaned forward, holding her pale yellow braids and the ribbons of her bonnet away from the moving machinery. She looked up at Kazia and pursed her lips.

The thresher clanked out a rhythm, but once in a while that rhythm sounded a muffled interruption. Kazia held up a finger and traced a circle in the air along with the rhythm, dropping her fingertip at every missed beat.

Neiphi's bright green eyes widened and she nodded. Kazia felt the girl's sudden understanding. She motioned for Neiphi to switch off the engine. When Neiphi returned and the thresher was still again, Kazia drew a long probe from her apron pocket and pointed it into the mechanism.

"Here," she said, and Neiphi stood on tiptoe to see where Kazia pointed. "This gear has worn a tooth, and so it slips sometimes. Would you like to help me replace it?"

"I would," Neiphi answered, "but I came to tell you that Mistress Thanelin has come from the Capital to see you, and there are Alchemists and soldiers with her."

At the word Alchemists, a curious excitement burst from her, followed by apprehension at the soldiers.

Kazia shared in that apprehension.

"I see," she said quietly, replacing the probe in her apron pocket and closing the thresher cart. "Well, we'd best not keep her waiting."

Kazia went to the water pump at one side of the barnyard and tried to clean some of the machine oil off of her hands and face, but she had no soap here.