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THE TRENCH TRIBUNE

TANNER REFUSES MINERS UNION DEMANDS

A demonstration in Baymouth last month leaves little doubt of dissenters in the Northeastern provinces who dub themselves the “Miners Union.” This, after the House of Lords flagrantly denied the existence of such a movement for more than a year.

Crafters of all trades lined the streets of Baymouth, halting all works for several hours in the town, marking the first promised strike from the Miners Union in a long list provided to this esteemed reporter.

The police house in Baymouth did not submit to questioning, with speculation arising that the officers in charge willingly stepped aside for the demonstration.

“All actions taken in aid of or aligned with any criminal organization will be met with the fullest penalty from Belavere’s High House,” said the Right Honorable Lord Tanner in his latest address.

When asked of the allegations of idium corruption, Lord Tanner made no statement except to remind this reporter that accusations against the House were considered an act of treason. No doubt, the strikes come at a grave time for the governing lord, with the sourcing of terranium at record lows.

Lord Tanner made no statement regarding the ongoing terranium scarcity.

The Miners Union promises more strikes ahead of the House’s refusal of their demands, which included salary increases and a referendum on the siphoning ceremonies.

As to the time and place of these strikes, they remain as elusive as the Miners Union itself, whose leaders and headquarters are still yet to be discovered.

TRIBUTE TO FALLEN ALCHEMIST

Famed Alchemist Lester Brickem died peacefully in his sleep late last week, report his wife and five children, who farewelled their beloved in a funeral attended by the full House of Lords.

Brickem, aged 78, was one of three surviving Alchemists in Belavere Trench. His death has sent a ripple of concern across the nation, as the House reports that no new Alchemists have arisen in the latest siphoning.

The newspaper was left strewn across the table of Professor Dumley’s drawing room. The fire was roaring. Sweat was collecting in my collar. The headmaster was humming to himself as he poured out barely steeped tea.

“I imagine the House of Lords must be becoming anxious,” I said out loud, and when Dumley looked at me questioningly, I gestured toward the newspaper.

Theo cleared his throat beside me, then gave me a look of warning. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue.

Our third year had brought about a change in him.

He was much taller, his shoulders broader.

Hair was beginning to spout along his chin and upper lip.

I enjoyed teasing him about it whenever I could, which was often.

Thanks to Professor Dumley’s continued interest in us, we were regularly together in this drawing room, or on excursions out into the wider city to seek our mediums.

Dumley’s eyes slipped to the newspaper for the briefest of moments. “Oh, not at all,” he muttered, collecting the pages and then setting them aflame in his hand. The fire never seemed to burn him.

I watched the cinders with a frown. “But surely, they must be taking the Miners Union seriously now?”

Theo scoffed. “You worry too much, Clarke. Father says Tanner will eventually throw a bunch of money their way, and they’ll wander back to their pits and dig up more terranium.” He made it sound as though they were rats rummaging for crumbs.

“In any case,” he continued, “there’ll be no need for unions unless they find more Alchemists. Soon, we’ll all be a bunch of Crafters.”

“Now, now,” Professor Dumley interjected. “This is hardly talk for the classroom, is it?” Never mind that his classroom consisted of a tea set and a life-size painting of a naked woman.

“I have a surprise for you both today,” Dumley went on. “You see, I received a small scribble this morning from someone most esteemed!”

A knock came, and before Professor Dumley could move toward the doors, they opened, and in strode Lord Tanner himself, smile widening, jowls quivering.

My lunch made itself known, bubbling into my throat.

“My lord,” Theo said, bowing his head in the proper way.

The man was taller than I remembered him. More robust. Less a receptacle of power and more a mountain of it. The drawing room seemed somehow smaller, less grand.

He said, “Dumley. How are you?” without looking at him. He bared his teeth in a grin, staring at me with a pincerlike gaze as he shook Theo’s hand.

He knows what you are , I thought, and I had the urge to bolt from the room.

“Please excuse Miss Clarke,” Professor Dumley said now, eyeing me pleadingly. “I quite underprepared her for your arrival, my lord. She forgets herself.”

It was only then that I remembered I should be standing, curtsying, chiming a greeting.

“Apologies,” I muttered, tripping on my skirt as I stood and curtsying awkwardly for the first time in my life.

“Probably the heat,” Lord Tanner said, nodding his head to me. “Lord almighty, but it is stifling in here, Dumley. I’m sure the devil keeps his drawing room cooler than this.”

Dumley snapped his fingers with a flourish, and the fire in the hearth extinguished. “I barely feel it anymore,” he said gaily. “I fear I’ve become rather cold-blooded with age. Tea, my lord?”

“Milk and sugar, if you don’t mind.” And he took Dumley’s usual seat, opposite my own. He seemed to envelop its frame. As Dumley hummed serenely, making the tea, Tanner crossed his legs and leaned back with a strange grace, continuing to stare.

I felt horridly peculiar.

“You’ll be pleased to hear, my lord, that Miss Clarke and Mr. Shop have made tremendous progress this past month alone,” Dumley offered, passing Tanner a teacup without minding the slosh of its insides.

“We have great fun, don’t we, children? Why, Nina and I just yesterday ventured to the wheat farms just outside the city and tilled an entire field within an hour! ”

Lord Tanner said, “Well, now. That’s something.” But his interest was clearly feigned.

“And Mr. Shop’s abilities already supersede those of our sixth-year water Charmers!”

“His father will be rapturous,” Lord Tanner said. “Not a day goes by that Lord Shop does not remind me of his brilliant son.”

Theo smiled weakly. “That’s very kind, sir.”

“I suppose you’d like to see it for yourself!” Dumley exclaimed, bouncing off his seat. “We could—”

But Lord Tanner held up a hand. “In a moment, Dumley. My visit today shall be a short one. I don’t wish to steal these two from their studies.” He drained his absurdly small cup and placed it down, smacking his lips. I felt as though his eyes were peeling back my skin.

“I’m sure, given all the chatter about town, that the two of you have heard mentioned the founding of a union, led by a mob of angry Craftsmen.”

I went still. I’d never heard any professor or even Aunt Francis bring up the strike action in the brink. Indeed, it seemed they were determined to ignore it altogether. As though admitting its existence would make it so.

Theo and I shared a momentary glance. We’d spoken about little else in the past months. Heads almost touching over lunch, hunching over newspapers in his room after dark. Speculating about the implications if further strikes ensued.

“So… it is true, then?” Theo asked, once again far braver than me.

Lord Tanner turned pensive. “That’s the question, isn’t it?

Does a union truly exist if it hides itself away?

I’m afraid that despite whatever this little group of thugs calls itself, it has yet to come into the open before the House of Lords, or indeed, name its leader.

And until it does, it will only ever be something in the shadows, stirring trouble among good people.

Good people who will suffer the consequences of their crimes, if they indeed strike. ”

I swallowed, hoping my voice would not betray my nerves. “Is… is another strike likely?”

“That’s the difficult thing about my position, Miss Clarke,” he said. “One must always prepare for eventualities, no matter how improbable they are.”

I hardly knew what he meant.

“Now, rest assured, the House of Lords believes wholly that the mob will disappear shortly, but I’d be a fool not to ensure I have all my knives sharpened, now wouldn’t I?” he spread his arms wide toward Theo and me, as though we were the prized blades in his collection.

Theo frowned. “Us, sir?”

“All of us, Mr. Shop,” Tanner said with a laugh. “All Artisans would need to come together, if the situation arose. And the two of you are in possession of some of Idia’s greatest gifts. No doubt she saw you fit to use them for the sake of our great Belavere.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“Then let me speak plainly, Miss Clarke.” I thought he put rather a lot of emphasis on the name Clarke .

“Sometimes the Craftsmen, when they’re feeling disgruntled, stop doing their jobs and make a little noise.

A little noise is easily stifled. But sometimes a squeak turns into a deafening roar that drowns sense.

Part of my duty is ensuring peace and quiet, Miss Clarke. Do you follow me now?”

Nod , I thought, then did so.

“I will do whatever I can to quash that noise, if need be. And as a good leader, I must ensure I have the means to do so. Artisans have the means. You have the means.”

“Me, sir?”

“Our nation of Belavere Trench has the advantage of being… well, a trench. A nation surrounded by mountains. Rich, dense earth. Do you understand my meaning, Miss Clarke?”

“I… yes.”

“Should certain conditions come to pass”—and here, his eyes swept to Theo as well—“the Capital will require your assistance.”

Theo frowned, jaw tight. “Of course, my lord,” he said.

Tanner turned to me. “You would do what is necessary to protect this city, would you not?”

I swallowed. I tried to mimic Theo’s tone. “Of course.”

Lord Tanner smiled. “Wonderful. Now, why don’t you two show me what you can do?”

Theo and I became Dumley’s theater performers after that. We charmed until our palms grew slick and our eyelids fluttered.

Tanner did not utter a word until the demonstration was over. “Quite advanced,” he offered. “As you said, Dumley.”

Despite the bland praise, Dumley seemed elated.

Tanner stood, pulling from his breast pocket two envelopes. He passed one each to Theodore and me. “This is special writ, allowing each of you to obtain a quarterly dose of idium from the dispensaries.”

Theodore and I looked warily at each other. Theodore cleared his throat. “Quarterly, my lord? By law, we are only allowed to consume idium every half year.”

“Unless ordered otherwise by sanctioned writ,” Tanner said, smiling thinly. “I know the law, Mr. Shop. Better than most people, I would think.”

“Why?” I asked. It slipped out before I could blanket it, soften it.

But I sealed my lips shut and waited for the answer.

Tanner donned his jacket. “To sharpen the knives, Miss Clarke.”

And he left.