Page 74 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“Maman’s already brought me somebeautifulshoes—want to see?”
“Sure.”
Mariah raced out of the room.
Oh gears, what if the invitation includedher?She couldn’t go, not with her plan to help the rebellion, but how would she ever get out of it if the Baroness insisted? She was still the daughter of a baron after all. If she was on the invite, if the Baroness wanted to make a show—
She won’t let you come,a voice reminded her.You are not her family.
Never had Elena been more glad of it.
Mariah hurried back in, holding out a pair of court shoes composed of silver gears and white satin, ribboned and dotted with pearls.
“The pearls aren’t real,” Mariah explained, catching her gaze, “but it doesn’t matter; no one really notices shoes anyway.”
She sat down on the creaky bed and slipped them onto her feet, lifting them up for close inspection.
“Aren’t they too high for you?” Elena remarked.
Mariah giggled. “Ivanka said the same thing, but then joked that I can always use them to fend off unwanted suitors. Shoes can be weapons, you know.” She paused for a moment. “My father said something similar, once.”
Elena’s voice vanished. She knew little about Mariah’s father—the Baroness’ first husband. A soldier, she thought. It made sense he’d see something as harmless as a shoe as a weapon.
She froze, thinking.
But who else would?
What was it Mariah had said—that nobody really noticed shoes? And despite Ivanka’s joke, Elena had never heard of anyone actually using a shoe as arealweapon… not in this century, anyway.
“Elena?” Mariah nudged her shoulder. “What do you think?”
“I think they’re very pretty,” she replied, now staring at the shoes for an entirely different reason.
And I think I’ve found the answer to our problem.
“Letmegetthisstraight,” said Snowdrop the next morning, her brow furrowed, “You want to put a grenade… inside of a shoe?”
“A smoke grenade,” Elena clarified.
“To cause a distraction.”
“That is correct.”
“And you think you can design this?”
“Oh, I know I can,” said Elena confidently. She’d never made a smoke grenade, but she’d also never met something shecouldn’tmake, with time and the right tools. She’d taken one apart before. She knew the basics. She’d been drawing up the plans in her head last night, dreaming of cogs doing exactly what she wanted them to do. “I just need a few days and a few ingredients. If… you can help me?”
Snowdrop slid off her seat, marched towards Elena, and grabbed her by the arms. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t think you’d be into that.”
Clover, drinking something in the corner of the rebel’s garage, snorted into his flask. “I also approve of the grenade-shoe,” he said. “Not that anyone asked my opinion.”
“Just let me know the colours,” said Buttercup, still lying on his bunk with Dandelion dozing on his chest, “so that the dress matches.”
Elena laughed. “I think it would be easier if you gave me scraps of dress fabric to work with. The shoes will be mostly bronze, for the gears.”
“We can work on something together!”
Elena admired his enthusiasm. “I need to get to work,” she announced. “I just thought I should let you know. Here’s a list of the equipment I’ll need.”
