The Fire Inside

The Fire Inside

A fear was made manifest, her note in the barbershop leading the Charlatan to her door in a way Milli hadn’t expected. “Tom Door was captured by his father, tortured. And he and three of our own are still inside,” Birdy explained behind the locked doors of Milli’s shop. “I need you to get them out.” So she worked. She focused. She maintained control. It was important, because not maintaining control was being out of control. And right now, she couldn’t afford to be out of control. Milli let her anger override her fear and she worked her fingers to the bone, calling in Tia, Lachlan, his brother Fercos. She called in favors, paid overpriced fees. All that mattered was that they came. They worked the forge all night, making munitions, weapons, gadgets of all types. Some for things she didn’t have a design for, just the schematics in her head. Longer, wider, a curve along the tip there. From nothing, an armory rose. From the stifled, hot mess of her mind, a plan, too, rose. Azalea was contacted, dragged from her bed. Apologizing, Milli explained what she needed. The urgency. And from Milli’s tone, Leah was reminded of the kind of devotion she, herself, showed when speaking of the Cause. Early the next morning, not long after the sun peeked beyond the horizon, Milli stood out front of the office of the Queen’s tax assessor. When the tiny, balding man with spectacles balanced low on his nose unlocked the door, Milli pushed inside. “I need to look at some blueprints,” she demanded with significantly less finesse than normal. The man blinked, taken aback by her abrasiveness for a moment. Then he remembered that he was in his office. His element. And he straightened his tie, walked primly to his desk chair and sat down behind it. “My dear lady,” he said, as if she was anything but, “I’m afraid that we can’t just do that sort of thing. Otherwise ruffians and all other unsavory types would just be...I don’t know, coming in to look at bank vault blueprints! You must have a signed waiver from the owner of the property, a clearance from the building commission, and a letter of credit from the bank underwriting the insurance for the property.” He smiled at her, sweet and condescending. “Now, if you’d like to come back in a few days with those forms--” “Here,” Milli slapped them down on his desk, a neatly signed copy of each of the forms he was asking for, carefully forged only hours earlier. “The Casivan mansion, up on the wall. Get to work quick or it’ll be Lord Casivan you’ll be answering to, not me.” The threat was surprisingly effective and it made Milli ill to think of how much trouble she was likely bringing down on herself and others with this. But it was the best option out of many, many bad options. The man returned with the appropriate plans, bowing and scraping to her now as if she were royalty. “Is there anything else Lord Casivan requires?” he asked obsequiously. Milli looked the blueprints over, made certain they were correct. Then shook her head. “No. Good morning, sir.” Though the words themselves were polite, the tone was cold. When she met Birdy, it was with a cart full of surprises and a clear idea of where they were going. “We’re getting them out,” Milli said, jaw clenched. Some moments it felt like the pressure inside her, the force of holding it all in, would never end. Or it would end her. “And then we’re getting some leverage.”

Oh I'll give you much more than two paragraphs. I can make words for days ;).

Let's play that game where you send me a prompt or a word or phrase and I write a mini-fic with it.

Maximum two paragraphs.

But yeah, let’s play that game!

It always seemed like she missed a spot. A dark blotch on her neck, the end of her nose. Underneath her eyepiece. The grease snuck in everywhere, as much a part of her as the work she did to earn it.

Join Me

The note is delivered by one of the urchins who hangs around near Milli’s shop. The child, young and androgynous, stuffs it into Tia’s hand and takes off immediately.

Tia,

Please meet me at my house tonight. I need your help with a project. I’m also ordering food. I hope you like what they serve at the Lion’s Shadow.

~Milli

It’s an innocuous enough note. And if there’s a bit of subtlety to it, it’s only because Milli’s learning. She wants Tia to open up to her again, lay some of the burden at her feet so she can help. She hopes she can convince Tia to stay the night. Rest. But if nothing else, she will give Tia something to concentrate on, and a good meal, and some friendship. Because she knows how precious all those things are when you’re hurting.

Not all dreams are nightmares. She forgets that sometimes. Then she wakes up giggling, images of fish made of gears and metal dancing through her head. Such silliness her mind can conjure. As she dresses, it's fading. A vague memory of something funny with some fish. During the day, she forgets it entirely. But that night, as she's drifting off with her head laid on her arm, at the worktable again, she remembers. And she wills that she'll have the fish dreams again. And again. And again.

Is there such a thing as fate? Milli often wondered. She could see the wheels of the universe turn sometimes, how the flight of a seagull caught the eye of a dock worker, making him lose his footing, dropping a box off the dock, sinking the load of volatile chemicals in the water, causing a small explosion, busting a hole in the side of a tugboat that also sank, causing the captain to lose his hand and nearly his life.

Did the seagull cause the captain to lose his hand? Sort of.

But she knew life was more complicated than that, especially where people were concerned. People have differing motivations, hidden agendas, things they can't even admit to themselves. Machines are more straightforward. They move because she put them in motion. They rest when they are through. She understood machines. And through that framework, flawed and broken as it was, she tried to understand the rest of the world as well.