Page 11 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“They don’t.”
Snowdrop swallowed, opening her mouth, before the cat-like bot leapt into her lap. The others circled round her, the bird perched on her shoulder.
“Your bots are remarkable.”
“Thank you,” said Snowdrop. “Although I didn’t make them. Elena, meet Walkie, Talkie, Clickety, Clackety, Rusty, Bang Bang and Wheels.”
“Creative.”
Snowdrop snorted. “The kids named them.”
“Kids? You have kids in the Outlands?”
“A few. It’s rough out there, but it’s not as bad as you think.”
The Outlands outside the domed city were supposed to be brutal and inhospitable, the rebels living in some dark, underground fortress. It did not sound like a nice place to grow up.
“Tell me about it,” Elena asked.
“Oh no, girl, I’m not spillingeverylast secret we have.”
Elena smiled. “Fair enough.” A pause spread between the two of them, not uneasy.“Why did you come back here if your friend was at your safehouse?”
“Well, I had to come back for these little dudes,” she said. “Plus, it seemed rude to go without thanking you.”
“Thank you.”
“For thanking you?”
“For coming back.”
Snowdrop glanced down. “Sure,” she said. “So, I’m not going to be able to leave the city on this leg for a bit. I’m going to head back to my place after I’ve rested, but I’m going to be around for a few days, at least.”
“All right.”
“If you hear anything in the palace—”
Elena stiffened. “Please don’t ask me to do that again.”
“Right.” Snowdrop stood up again. “I should—”
“You don’t have to leave,” Elena said swiftly. “Stay. Honestly. I’d quite like the company.”
Snowdrop didn’t volunteer a lot of information about herself, so Elena talked instead, first about what she was doing—how she was fixing things and how the machines just sort of spoke to her—and then about other things. The hot bun stall on the corner of her road, Grandma’s stories, the colour of Navarran skies.
Snowdrop listened attentively, asking her the occasional question, her eyes lit up in enthusiastic contemplation. At lunchtime, she took a couple of stale bread rolls and a can of soup out of her bag, which they shared together on the dusty floor.
Snowdrop didn’t leave until the end of the day, and she didn’t mention the palace job again at all, except to wish her luck the following day.
Elena prayed she would not need it.
Early mornings rarely hurt, and Elena had found from experience it was better to be out of the way before the Baroness awoke if ever it were possible. She grabbed a bite to eat before the rest of the apartment woke, gave herself a quick wash, and pulled on the least grimy of her clothes. A foolish quest, of course. She’d be dirty within the first hour. But it rarely hurt to make a good first impression, either.
It took an hour to get through security before she was put to work. An hour of her fingerprints being taken, her appearance documented, and an ID tag produced that allowed her access only to the workshops and the servants’ quarters. She was searched upon entrance, although she couldn’t help but feel the job was a little lazy in that regard. She wasn’t permitted to bring any of her own tools with her, but they didn’t check equipment thoroughly either.
I could have a smoke bomb hidden inside that wrench,she thought to herself.You could have set it off yourself with that clumsy handling. Excellent distraction.
She squashed down her traitorous thoughts. She’d never given any thought to designing weapons before, even if a smoke bomb was at the lesser end of the scale.
