Free Wings of Sorrow and Bone by Beth Cato Page A

awe at mecha pilots, but until Alonzo’s match, I never considered that it was something I could do. I still wasn’t sure if I could do it, then Mr. Cody laughed at me.” Her gaze turned cold. “Now I need to.”
    â€œI wish you had a different need. I don’t want either of you in the Arena.”
    â€œThen stop us before the bout happens. Stop Mr. Cody.” Tatiana stated it as a challenge.
    Challenge accepted. “Broderick?” Rivka called. “Can you loosen the chains?”
    â€œI can, but if Lump rolls with her up there—­”
    â€œI won’t blame you if I’m crushed to death, all right?” said Tatiana.
    â€œWill the weight of a rider hurt Lump?” Rivka asked Broderick.
    â€œNo. His own weight is substantial. Both of you would be nothing compared to that.”
    â€œWe can trust you, right?” Rivka murmured to Lump. The chimera’s gaze shifted to follow Broderick. The purr stopped, replaced by an unmistakable growl. The lips bared, showing two rows of gleaming teeth. Tatiana leaped backward and to the far side of the copper line.
    â€œLump?” A sickening wave welled in Rivka’s gut. She didn’t want to lurch away, but she was keenly aware of the proximity of his mouth. It’d take a split second for her to lose an arm, or worse. She stroked his forehead again, her fingers trembling. Tense lines furrowed his green skin.
    Suddenly, she understood, and realized her own stupidity. “Stop, Broderick! We can’t expect him to trust you. He shouldn’t trust you.” The apprentice medician had torn apart gremlins to piece together Lump. His very presence meant pain and death. “Tell me how to go about adjusting the chains.”
    â€œI wish you’d get away from him,” Broderick said. “This is dangerous. I don’t want to be in a place where I have to heal either of you.”
    He didn’t think he’d be able to do it.
    Rivka continued to pet Lump. His hackles lowered, the growl vanishing. The purr didn’t return. Lump watched Broderick with the wariness of a dog often kicked by its owner.
    â€œThen I’ll do it myself,” said Rivka.
    â€œI have the key.”
    â€œI don’t need a key.”
    â€œShe doesn’t,” added Tatiana. “That’s how we managed to come down here the other day. She’s good.”
    Rivka reached to her sleeve, where her trusty little screwdriver was threaded. She heard a frustrated, masculine growl behind her, and the hard chime of keys hitting the tile floor.
    It took Rivka a few minutes to adjust the chains. Lump was tethered at the neck and behind his front legs, with extra shackles restricting his new feet. Leather bound his arms against his torso, and Broderick slid her a knife to slit those bonds.
    At last, Rivka stepped back. “Up, Lump,” she called, making a rolling motion with her arms. He blinked, then imitated her gesture and rolled to his new feet for the first time. A prolonged groan escaped him.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” she whispered, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, embracing him as well as she could. His ribs heaved as he keened in agony.
    Heat crackled against Rivka’s skin as the circle activated. A sudden, strange breeze caused her skirts to waft around her ankles. “Broderick, should I leave the circle so you can heal him?”
    â€œNo. Stay put. I’d never confuse your songs, and neither will the Lady. Lump is like a drum corps. You—­you’re wind instruments. Flutes, clarinets, a piccolo.”
    â€œOh.” That pleased her.
    Broderick pulled a bag from a supply shelf. He stepped just inside the circle, sending a new warm ripple around Rivka, and threw a handful of red powder toward Lump. To Rivka’s awe, it spun in the air as if dancing, bobbing until it flowed onto Lump’s broad back. The red vanished. Rivka caught the wonderful scent of