Free Magic Under Glass by Jaclyn Dolamore Page B

all its contents. You attended that auction, didn’t you? Fidinch said he saw you there.”
    “Well, yes, it was at that sale, now that you mention it.”
    “I didn’t know he had an automaton, ” Smollings said, as if it meant something particular to own an automaton. “I wonder how he came by it. But then, what do I know of his personal possessions?”
    Erris had stopped playing, and he made his usual move before winding down—sitting back and surveying his nonexistent audience. Smollings let the coat drop from his hand and withdrew a step. Hollin looked at him curiously, and Smollings answered with a slight shrug. “Shall we wind him again? Let’s see your little songbird perform.”
    Hollin nodded and took Erris’s key from his pocket.
    Smollings reached. “May I wind him?”
    Hollin hesitated only for a moment. “I don’t see why not.”
    I stood in wait, clenching my fists behind my skirt, as Smollings took the key, running his thumb along its length. He pushed aside the coat, peering deep into the heart of Erris’s body, pausing like he expected something to happen before he jabbed the key in. He wound slowly. We both watched him.
    “That should do,” Hollin said, lifting his hand. “Have a seat.”
    As Erris came to life once more, Smollings settled into a chair, lacing his fingers. Hollin remained standing, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed.
    Hollin’s eyes were on me as I waited for my cue, but Smollings watched Erris. I looked up to the ceiling. I had never noticed before how ornate it was, with molded designs in a circular pattern around the light fixture. Erris began to play. I knew I must sing, showing no concern. Smollings already suspected Erris was no ordinary automaton—that was obvious.
    “One windy day in autumn, I lost my darling dear . . .” My voice started out tremulous. I must sing with passion, with feeling , I reminded myself—like any great lady of the theaters and music halls. “He’s gone away and left me, and now I linger here . . .”
    When I finished, my arms dropped and my head ached, strangely spent.
    Smollings gave me a few polite claps. “Hollin,” he said. “Have you had this automaton looked over? To be sure it’s free of curses, or enchantments?”
    “I’ve looked him over,” Hollin said, turning to Erris like he might see something new. He had wound down, but still I willed him not to move or make a sound.
    “You sensed nothing out of the ordinary?”
    “Of course not, or I would have said something, wouldn’t I?” Hollin’s voice remained measured, but I could tell he had grown a little impatient with Smollings’s scrutiny. “Although, before I hired Nimira, I tried a couple of other girls, and both of them swore they saw it move and grunt, but I think they had overactive imaginations. I’ve wound it a hundred times and it does precisely the same thing every time. You’ve never seen anything unusual, have you, Nimira?”
    I didn’t dare meet Smollings’s eyes. I tried to look shy. “No, sir.”
    “If it’s haunted, wouldn’t it have revealed itself to Nimira or myself by now?”
    “Perhaps not, if it has something to hide.” Smollings rubbed his fingers across his lips. “Did you ever hear the story that went around after the last Fairy War?”
    “I vaguely recall it.”
    “It was before your time. I was just a young man myself. But after the execution of the fairy royals, one of the bodies was never found. The second-youngest prince. We’d occasionally get an alarming report in the papers that he had turned up and the fairies were sure to rally around him, only to hear the next week that it had been a mistake. The fairy lands were in chaos, battling for secession, but the lost prince never appeared, and of course the king’s cousin finally took the throne.”
    “Yes?” Hollin said, glancing at Erris, obviously wondering what the connection could be to his automaton. I was getting an inkling, and reminded