a man wearing silvery spectacles was unloading another wagon. Half of it was piled with ominously coffin-sized crates. The rest was full of old bicycles. Some of them were true boneshakers, older even than her grandfather's antique Michaux.
Dr. Limberleg followed her gaze. "We appear to have similar interests, young lady. We use gaslight and oil for the most part, but certain elements of the fair require electricity. The bicycles power my generators, and a few other things." He raised an eyebrow and nodded at the wagon. "In fact, I believe one of them is a Chesterlane rather like your own."
Natalie craned her neck for a better look as the man in the silver glasses lifted two more cycles down to the ground, one in each hand. The Chesterlane was easy to spot, even without all the adjustments Mr. Minks had made to Natalie's. The tires were plain iron rims, but the front one was bigger than the back, and it had the same elaborate collection of springs, the same oddly placed pedals. It was blue, but just like hers it was etched with golden whorls that caught the sun.
"Shaky as it is," Limberleg said, taking off his spectacles to polish the lenses against his coat, "the Chesterlane Eidolon can be very, very fast. And it's one of the more powerful bicycles I know of. If you can keep it from behaving like some primitive boneshaker, that is." He gave her a pointed look. "Most can't."
Natalie nodded seriously, hoping she was wrong about how much Dr. Limberleg could tell about her shaky relationship with her own bicycle, and followed her father back down Heartwood to Bard Street. About midway down the road, she glanced back over her shoulder. Limberleg was talking to the man with the hammer, and they were both looking at her.
***
Simon Coffrett leaned against one of the painted wagons while Limberleg and the gray-haired man watched Natalie and Ted Minks until they were out of sight. "So what brings you back this way, Jake?" Simon asked.
"It's such a nice place to visit." Dr. Limberleg smiled thinly. "You all roll out the carpet so nicely. Makes it difficult to leave."
"Can't say that's ever been my intention before."
"Yes, and to what do I owe this unexpectedly pleasant reception?"
"Learned my lesson," Simon replied, hands in his pockets.
Limberleg gave him a look that plainly said he didn't believe a word.
"All right," Simon said with a little smile. "Evidently I have a price and you can afford it."
The gray-hair and the bowler hat wandered closer to hear Simon's next words, but before he could continue, someone laughed.
Silhouetted by the sun, the drifter with the carpetbag and the lantern stood in the road, doubled over in hilarity. The man in the bowler hat took a step toward him. Simon looked mildly at his fingernails.
"Well, fancy that," Limberleg muttered, glancing from Simon Coffrett to the drifter and back. "Something funny, friend?"
"Just can't believe my lucky timing's all," the drifter said. "A medicine show! Might have to stick around and have a look. You know, 'fore I get on my way."
Limberleg exchanged a glance with the gray-haired man. "It's a welcoming kind of town," he said at last, turning his gaze to Simon Coffrett. Simon looked at his fingernails again.
"Yep, seems that way." All the humor melted off the drifter's face. He twirled the lantern pole in his fingers. "Can't wait to get to know it better." Even in daylight, the little lantern glowed behind him as he strolled away down Heartwood Street back toward the center of town.
Limberleg smiled his thin smile again and spoke to Simon Coffrett. "Learned your lesson."
"A man can only make so many mistakes before he starts doing things right," Simon said placidly. "Welcome to Arcane."
SIX
Vitamins
W ATCHING HER FATHER climb a ladder was enough to give Natalie a heart attack. Clumsy at the best of times in a workshop that, at its cleanest and most organized, was still an obstacle course, he usually took the rungs as if he were nimble as a monkey and