Page 62

“Oh, no. No, no. No. No. No, no, no, no, what the hell are you doing?”

Backlit by the afternoon sun shining through the workshop door, Kato stood with his mouth open.

It wasn’t his first instinct. That had been to drag Taly off the ladder where she was disassembling the suit of Mechanica armor he’d spent the last two days trying to piece together from rusty, mismatched parts.

Skye probably wouldn’t like that, so he didn’t. Barely.

Taly glanced up from where her body was half-inserted inside the breastplate.

Her eyes met his for a brief moment. “I wanted to see how it works,” she said, her fingers deftly loosening another component from inside the armor’s chest cavity.

The familiar hum of magical energy pulsed through the air as she carefully placed each piece on a velvet-lined workbench—ratcheted up to be within reach while on the ladder.

He would not shake her. He would not shake her. He would not—you know, if this was what Skye was having to deal with, Kato could understand the brooding. If he’d invested so much in this woman, he’d spend most of his day questioning his choices too.

“Do you know how long it took me to piece that bastard together?” He gestured towards the half-disassembled suit hanging on the chassis, wires and fluid lines spilling out like entrails.

“Hours, no, days of scavenging parts from old, discarded suits. Hours more of meticulously fitting each piece together, aligning gears, and calibrating the magical conduits. Blood, sweat, and a fair amount of cursing went into that thing! And now you’re just taking it apart like it’s some kind of puzzle for a lazy afternoon. ”

From inside the breastplate, Taly’s voice echoed, “And here I thought you were supposed to be the fun brother.”

“I am fun,” Kato shot back. “I just don’t let anyone who’s absolutely clueless get their fingers in my work.”

When she emerged, she held a glowing crystal core in her hand. “Arcane stabilizer, quadrant B3, subsection delta-seven,” she called out.

Calcifer perched on a nearby bench, a smaller, ganglier version of his usual feline form. He used his tail like a quill, scribbling down the location in a small notebook.

“Wait.” Kato pointed. “That thing understands language?”

“He can copy almost any lexicon I show him, though it’s unclear if he has any understanding of what it is.”

Her hair, tied back in a messy bun, framed a face marked by focus and determination.

A pair of brass-framed goggles with multi-lensed attachments rested on her forehead, and she wore a fitted leather apron, its many pockets brimming with an assortment of tools, from tiny screwdrivers to etching wands.

Taly laid the arcane stabilizer carefully on the velvet-lined bench. Beside it, laid out in neat rows, were gears and cogs, runic panels, an assortment of valve assemblies, and countless other pieces. She was dismantling the suit down to the bolts!

“Don’t make that face,” Taly said. “Skye makes that face when he wants me to know he’s angry, but it only makes him look constipated.

And besides, Ghislain is always so stingy with its tech.

How could I not take a chance to get my hands on one of these things when it so conveniently presented itself? ”

Kato continued to glare, unrelenting.

“I’ll put everything back exactly where I found it. You have my word.” Then she disappeared back inside the breastplate.

Kato sighed and rubbed his thumb between his brows. She could snap her fingers and undo it in a moment. He just had to keep reminding himself of that fact…

“I’m looking for my brother,” he began. “You know, tall, annoying, probably brooding about the meaning of life somewhere? Have you seen him?”

“Nope,” she said from inside the chassis.

“Funny. You smell a lot like him. Been rolling around in more than just enchantment dust, have we?”

Taly paused, a slight flush creeping up the back of her neck, but she didn’t rise to his bait. “I’m busy, Kato. And he’s not here. I haven’t seen him since he left for Eula’s midday meeting.”

Kato was old enough to know that when a woman told him, “I’m busy,” it really meant “go away.”

But he didn’t.

He wasn’t sure what caught his attention, but it held.

Taly worked with a grace that was… mesmerizing.

Something he could easily concede even as she created more work for him.

Her fingers, stained with oil and aether residue, danced over the armor’s surface, loosening bolts and revealing the inner workings he knew so well.

He’d spent half his life exactly where she was now, with his head inside one of these things.

She hummed softly to herself, a calming, tuneless little melody that kept her in rhythm with the work.

Each motion was deliberate, every gesture imbued with a quiet confidence.

There was a symphony in her actions: the soft clinks of metal, the hisses of steam, and the occasional hum of released magic as she adjusted the valves on the aetheric engine.

He found himself entranced, unable to look away.

“You have a remarkable touch,” Kato said.

She glanced up. “I like to tinker.”

That would explain the nickname. His brother never had been all that original.

“Left shoulder joint, sector three,” she said, and the mimic’s tail moved rapidly, jotting down the location.

“You’re serious about this.”

Taly glanced at him again, a small smile playing on her lips. “I like knowing how things work. Taking something apart and putting it together again usually does that for me. Right arm brace, sector four.”

The mimic dutifully recorded the information. And Kato found his annoyance melting away, replaced by… not fondness. It was more a fascination that had him drawing closer.

“You’re putting that back together. I hope you know that.”

“Already planning to, boss.”

“I mean it. I don’t want pieces scattered around for days.”

“It would probably go faster if you helped me.”

“So, you can what? Pick my brain for all those juicy trade secrets?”

“Front panel, sector nine. And yeah,” Taly said, flashing him a grin. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

It was fascination, pure and simple, that warmed his chest. Taly was curious. Before Sarah—back when Kato’s soul wasn’t entirely black—he’d always been drawn to the curious ones. Hell, he’d been one of them. Like called to like, and all that crap.

“You do know it’s treason to give away company secrets.” He smirked.

“Oh, please. As Skye’s bondmate, I’m practically on the payroll.”

“I see,” Kato said, chuckling. And since she was so blatantly digging through his work, he felt no guilt whatsoever in perusing hers.

It was obvious which workbench belonged to her.

Each tool had its designated place, arranged with exacting care.

Rows of polished brass wrenches and screwdrivers lined the back of the bench, each one hanging from a custom-fitted hook.

Below them, a series of small drawers were perfectly labeled in elegant, flowing script, denoting their contents: “Fine Gears,” “Runic Etching Tools,” “Arcane Crystal Mounts,” and a dozen more.

A leather-bound grimoire sat open on a wooden stand. The handwriting on the pages was the same as the labels. Some entries contained disassembly instructions like the coded locations she continued to call out, while others described what appeared to be… inventions.

One page revealed the blueprint for a self-scribing quill, enchanted to record spoken words directly onto parchment. From what he could gather, she was never able to fine-tune the spell-matrix alignment responsible for detecting verbal inputs.

Test #43: Adjusted vocal modulation parameters in the ACI; minor improvement noted, but issue persists under high-frequency commands.

Test #47: Reinforced TR framework with additional binding glyphs; increased stability but still fails with polyglot commands.

Test #54: Experimented with alternative enchantment stabilization techniques using dual-core resonance; reduced lag, but verbal command fidelity remains below optimal threshold.

The last entry was almost three years ago, as though she’d placed the project aside waiting for inspiration that never struck.

Another page showcased a diagram for an intricate timepiece that not only told the time but predicted minor shifts in magical currents.

Yet another a set of aether-powered gauntlets not dissimilar to a design Kato had been working on before he left Emrys Magitek Armaments.

He immediately recognized his brother’s precise, angular handwriting alongside Taly’s flowing script—a joint collaboration.

The enthusiasm and familiarity were palpable.

He could almost hear their laughter and see the sparks of inspiration flying between them as they brainstormed how to make her punches harder and more powerful than ever before.

On the next page, Kato’s fingers paused on a remarkably detailed illustration of an aether-powered handgun.

The diagram revealed a sleek, compact design with runes along the barrel meant to channel raw aether into controlled blasts.

Notes scribbled in the margins suggested various modifications for enhancing accuracy and power.

His eyes devoured the math, longing to scribble a few notes of his own.

“This pistol. Did you make it?”

“Sure did,” Taly called back. “Steam Valve Assembly, Quadrant B1, Section alpha-six.” The mimic’s tail moved with precision as she detached a gleaming joint-work of brass and tension screws.

Kato continued to flip through the grimoire.

He couldn’t help but notice a recurring theme.

While there were a few outliers—such as a blueprint for a self-cleaning cauldron and a set of enchanted lockpicks—most of her more recent inventions centered primarily on making things go boom .

From explosive charges to compact grenades that unleashed torrents of magical fire, her creations demonstrated a distinct preference for pyrotechnics and destruction.