Free Chronicles of Steele: Raven 3: Episode 3 by Pauline Creeden

door, the bell overhead jingled. Immediately, the smells
of fresh baked goods assailed Jack. He stepped up to the line and stood behind
two other customers. The glass cases were set in an “L” shape and displayed a
bevy of pastel iced confections. A jovial baker took orders in a booming voice
with a smudge of flour on his cheek. His cheer made Jack smile. Rupert would
have hated it—never a morning person, that one.
    When
he’d finally stepped up to the counter, Jack had made his choices. “Could I
procure two Ipswich sweet loaves, a dozen of your freshest hardtack, and a half
dozen of your iced sugar biscuits, please?”
    The
door to the back kitchen swung open, and a girl stepped out with her apron in
flames. A high pitched squeal emanated from the girl though her mouth remained
closed. Jack didn’t hesitate, and before the baker could turn around, he’d
darted around the counter. He ripped his oilskin coat from his shoulders and
wrapped it around her, patting out the fire. She continued to bear a terrified
look of horror frozen on her face.
    “Are
you all right?” he asked as he pulled his jacket away and looked at her torso
for injury, but found none.
    The
girl held her hands in front of her. Skin melted from the thumb of her right
hand, exposing the brass bones and joint underneath. Another automaton. Jack blinked
hard. These unusual creations seemed prevalent in Ipswich but he’d never seen
one in New Haven.
    “Thank
you so much, sir.” The jovial baker patted him on the shoulder. “She often gets
a little too close to the fires of the kiln. I’d let her run the front, but her
twitches cause some customers discomfort.”
    “Twitches?
She’s a prototype?”
    “Of
course. Is there any other kind of Catlett automaton?”
    “Catlett?”
    The
baker narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Yes, the company that manufactures ’em?”
    Jack
shrugged his shoulders back into his coat. “I’m sorry, but I’m from New Haven.
I’ve never seen a Catlett Automaton before my arrival in Ipswich.”
    After
a knowing nod, he slapped Jack on the back once more and chuckled. “Of course!
I’m going to throw in another loaf for your help, young man. You likely saved
me a bundle. She’s an older model, but I see no reason to upgrade, yet.”
    “Thanks,”
Jack said and returned to the other side of the counter. “Much appreciated.”
    The
bell rang over the door announcing the entrance of another customer. A woman
and two children entered. With a hand on each shoulder, the baker directed the
automaton back to the kitchen once more. The look of horror remained frozen
over the mechanical woman’s face like a mask. After a moment, the baker returned
with the three loves in a parcel. He reached into his glass case, removing the
biscuits and hardtack. “I’m giving you a full dozen of these, as well. I am
obliged to your quick thinking.”
    Jack
shook his head. “Thank you. Also, do you mind telling me where the Catlett
Automaton factory is?”
    The
baker straightened and set another sack upon the counter. “Of course. It’s
across the river, in main Ipswich. If you go across this bridge, it’s not more
than a kilometer down the street.” He smiled wider and said, “That’ll be two
coppers, if you please.”
    Jack
nodded and handed him one New Haven gold piece.
    With
a hesitant hand, the baker took the piece, his eyes wide. “Wow, you are
certainly from New Haven.”
    “Yes,
sir, and keep the change.” Jack turned from the door and nearly ran into one of
the two rug rats who were pawing at the glass cases.
    The
petite young woman tipped her head in a half curtsey. Her delicate features and
accent betrayed her French background. “Pardon my children, monsieur.”
    “No
problem, madam.” Jack skirted around the threesome and started for the door. He
couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was human. How many of the people he’d
run into in Ipswich might have been automatons rather than humans? The thought
of it made