Free The Brass Giant by Brooke Johnson Page A

me?”
    Petra scowled at him. He would only laugh at her if she told him about the automaton designs—­not that she could. “It’s nothing that would interest you .”
    â€œWell it isn’t going to keep you busy on Saturday, is it?”
    That was her next meeting with Emmerich. “Yes, as a matter of fact. It will.”
    â€œAll day?”
    â€œWell, no, but—­”
    â€œExcellent.” He reached into his coat pocket. “I wanted to give you this a few days ago, but you were being a bit snappish, so I decided to wait.” He withdrew a folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “Open it up.”
    Frowning at Tolly, Petra carefully unfolded the cloth. Two small spools of silk ribbon sat in the handkerchief, one a pearlescent white and the other a dark rich blue.
    â€œI thought they might look nice when you braid your hair,” he said.
    â€œThey’re lovely, Tolly.”
    â€œYou can wear them Saturday, to the theater,” he said grinning.
    â€œThe theater?”
    â€œA libretto opens this weekend in the second quadrant, at that fancy French place you’re always on about, the mechanical one. I thought you might like to go, you know—­the two of us.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œWell?”
    She couldn’t miss her meeting with Emmerich, but she couldn’t tell Tolly what she was up to either. “What time?”
    â€œThree o’clock, according to the tickets I already bought.”
    Petra frowned. He was trying to bully her into going, just like he always did when he wanted something. But a three o’clock showing left no time in the evening to work on the automaton design with Emmerich. “I can’t.”
    â€œOh come on, Pet. It’ll be fun.”
    â€œI said I can’t, Tolly. I’m sorry.”
    His smile vanished. “Can’t—­or won’t?”
    She sighed. “It’s not like that.”
    â€œDon’t think I haven’t noticed—­you’ve been avoiding me. You haven’t played cards with us in months. Every time I ask you to go somewhere, you decline, and when I try to talk to you, you ignore me or tell me to bugger off.”
    â€œI told you,” she said, “I’ve been busy.”
    â€œWith what ?”
    She bit her lip.
    â€œIt’s something to do with that stupid University, isn’t it?” His eyes burned with anger. “Ever since you got it in your head to attend that infernal school, you’ve changed. You’re different now.”
    â€œWhen have I ever wanted anything else?”
    â€œIt was just a dream, Petra—­a stupid childhood fantasy. You know you can never be an engineer for the Guild. Why do you keep trying?”
    â€œBecause someday I’ll design tickers that will change the world. You’ll see.”
    â€œDo you honestly believe that? Listen to yourself,” he scoffed. “It’s time you understand something about the world: no man wants to marry a woman with grease under her nails—­or bed her, for that matter. Women are good for two things only, and messing about with machines isn’t one of them. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you’ll be.” He wheeled around and stormed through the storage room, knocking Petra’s automaton designs down from the stool. As the papers scattered across the floor, he paused and nudged one aside with his foot, tilting his head to examine the mechanical sketches. He snatched up the leg design and glanced back at her. “You’re not a little girl anymore, Pet,” he said, ripping the paper into fourths. “It’s time you grew up and accepted your place in this world—­starting now.” He thrust the scraps toward her, and they fluttered to the floor.
    Petra’s heart burned in her chest, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. The rush of blood in her ears drowned all sound