Free A Clockwork Fairytale by Helen Scott Taylor Page A

appear to be.
    Melba frowned in concentration. As alms were being distributed in the name of the Great Earth Jinn, she’d expect monks of the Shining Brotherhood to attend, but there wasn’t a golden robe in sight. And the really strange thing was that people from the outer circles were banned from the inner circle, so why would the Royal Victualler distribute alms here? Wouldn’t it make more sense to do it in Potter’s Square Market where the poor people could go? She’d lived in the third circle all her life and never heard of anybody receiving a gift basket from the Royal Victualler.
    A few plainly dressed individuals appeared from behind the shrine and the Royal Victualler started handing out baskets with a smile.
    “Take a good look at the produce in the baskets,” Master Turk said softly, giving her a sideways glance.
    Melba tried to concentrate on the fruit and vegetables, but every time she looked at the Royal Victualler, she forgot what she was doing and her heart beat faster. A tiny sigh escaped her, but she jerked back to awareness when Master Turk poked her in the ribs. He glared at her. “Don’t you fall under his thrall.”
    “His what?”
    “Never mind.” Master Turk rapped his cane on the ground. “You’ve seen enough of this nonsense. Come.” He waited for her to scramble down the steps before threading his way through the people toward the shops on the north side of the marketplace. The bell above the door of a dressmaker’s shop dinged as he pushed inside, Melba close behind. The shop seemed unnaturally quiet after the press of people and noise of the market. The air smelled of scorched fabric, and tiny particles of dust from the tailor’s chalk danced in a shaft of sunlight.
    A young woman with her hair in a tight bun and fingers red and sore from needlework bustled out from behind a curtain at the back of the shop. “Ah, Mister Turquin, a pleasure to see you, sir. Your order is ready.” She lifted something wrapped in tissue paper from a shelf behind the counter and her eyebrows rose as Turk took the crushed box from Melba and placed it on the counter. “Perhaps we should use a new box, sir.” She whisked away the offending object, placed a new gilt box on the counter, and put her tissue-wrapped bundle inside. Melba stared at the far side of the shop where multicolored bolts of shiny fabric stood like soldiers against the wall. She tried to imagine the exotic southern lands where the silks had come from and what the people must be like.
    “Time to go, Mel,” Turk said. She expected him to pass her the box but he held it under his arm as they walked back to the quay to find their punt.
    “What’s in the box?” she asked.
    “If you satisfy me with your observations from today’s mission, it’s a new dress for you.”
    “For me? Oh.” Her heart dropped like a stone plopping into the cold harbor. She wanted to please Master Turk, but why did he have to reward her with a wretched dress?

Chapter Five

    Frivolity is the thin end of the wedge that a woman drives between a man and his good sense .—Gregorio, Primate of the Shining Brotherhood

    Melba wanted to discuss what she’d seen at Sugar Street Market, but Master Turk made her write a report. It took her three days to fill five pages of her notebook and then she ran out of ideas.
    She sat across from him at his desk in the library, her chin propped on her hand, watching him work. He was always reading, taking notes, and working on mathematical formulae. He told her it would sharpen her wits and make her a better spy if she learned her letters and numbers, so she studied hard to please him.
    He was so handsome; she could sit and watch him for hours. Everything about him fascinated her. Tiny gold Earth Blessings gleamed in his earlobes and on his black neck cloth. His eyelashes were like thick fringes of black silk and his eyes were the richest, darkest brown she’d ever seen. As it was late in the day, the tawny skin of his