Author Archives: Kait McFadyen

About Kait McFadyen

I am a partially employed Canadian science teacher with visions of grand travel and incredible adventures. When not immersed in work I maintain a small backyard garden, where I try to protect my crops of corn, tomatoes and other vegetables from the neighbourhood wildlife. The all-important library, my source of entertainment and discourse, is a comfortably short walk away.

Hostel Hopping

We (my intrepid brother and I) have been travelling for a couple of weeks now and outside of two nights spent at a cheap hotel, we have been staying exclusively at hostels. While I confess I have yet to get around to rating or commenting on my stay at the various places, I have been reflecting on what makes a good hostel and how the various establishments stack up.

So rather than worry about making many different reviews, I am going to share them all here and now.

I confess when looking for a hostel I do consider location. I am one of those travelers who wants to find something close to the train or bus station. Why? Well, I am not looking to stay at a fancy resort, I am looking for a place to crash for the night while I explore the local (and generally popular) sites around me. Furthermore, when hefting around massive backpacks in the sweltering heat and humidity of summer you want something that requires less walking.

We had a private room in this hostel that forbade snorers for booking beds in the dorm. As you can see it was two futon on a tatami floor. The privacy was nice!

SPACE Riverhouse Hostel in Nikko is not conveniently located. This interesting little hostel is a solid twenty minutes by vehicle at break-neck speed from the main attractions of Nikko. While the proprietor may consider the distant location an asset, it makes getting to and from the hostel a difficulty. Sure the river setting was nice once you were there, but without a car of our own we were reliant on the shuttle service provided by the hostel. And with only one man running the show, it was … limited.

SPACE Riverhouse used to be an onsen. The evidence clearly shown in the shower area, which is right beside the now empty baths with their artificial stone surrounds. While that was an interesting feature, it certainly didn’t compensate for the few western toilets, at least one of which had a cracked seat. Sadly, this hostel, with barely a kitchen, was in a dilapidated state of disrepair. The best feature by far was the western breakfast made fresh each morning and different too!

According to the American owner SPACE Riverhouse was suffering from a lack of customers. I could certainly believe it. With some further improvements to the facilities and a few more staff, the hostel could have been a great little stop over. This was seen with Dot Hostel in Nagano which had even fewer beds than SPACE Riverhouse (16 versus 24) and still managed to support two staff along with the owner.

This tiny two story house worked in four rooms, two dormitories with six beds each and two private rooms. We were i the mixed gender dorm.

This tiny two story house worked in four rooms, two dormitories with six beds each and two private rooms. We were i the mixed gender dorm.

Dot was an old home converted into a hostel. The beds were extra wide, so you could keep some things (toiletries, electronics) around her space, and fitted with heavy curtains for privacy. The stairs leading up to the mixed dorm were dangerously steep, but that was not my concern with Dot. No, my biggest complaint was the shower, with its lightly frosted glass it lacked a feeling of privacy I usually want in a shower. Even the single toilet for a house of about 16 guests was nothing in comparison. The best features of Dot, were the location close to the main temple in Nagano and the nice kitchen that I wish I had used even more.  

Outside of the location, facilities are another important feature of hostels. The key ones include: toilets (number and style); showers (number and size); kitchens; and of course beds. But facilities can also include the common rooms; laundry; front desk support; luggage storage; security and air conditioning (important summer issue). For toilets, I am looking for a western throne. Something on which I can sit. Keyaki Hostel in Sendai had only one western toilet and three Japanese squatters, a ratio I was not fond of. Sometimes you just want to sit down. And when you do sit, leg room is nice to have – mark against Akari Hostel, Nagano for nearly no knee space.

Showers with a separate space for changing are the best. These are made even better with a few small additions: a basket for your clothes or hooks on the wall. Akari Hostel in Nagasaki had my second least favourite shower as only a curtain separated the washing space from the changing space. This meant that the changing area was often damp. =(

Akari Hostel - an eight bed mixed dorm. I only ever take pictures of the sleeping room in a hostel (well generally.).

Akari Hostel – an eight bed mixed dorm. I only ever take pictures of the sleeping room in a hostel (well generally.).

Kitchens are important when you plan on staying multiple nights in one place. In fact it was one of the principal features that separates a hostel from any other type of accommodation. Obviously some places have better kitchens than others, but the lack of a cooktop (stove or hotplate) at the Yakushima Youth Hostel really disappointed me. We were staying there for four nights, on an island with few restaurant options, and had anticipated an actual kitchen. As such I had actually bought food for cooking before we officially checked in and discovered the partial kitchen status of the hostel. I made scrambled eggs in the microwave for the first (and hopefully last) time there. Then there are kitchens that lack some seemingly obvious equipment. Khaosan Origami in Tokyo has an adequately sized kitchen with large fridge and two stove tops. However, it lacks a spatula and can opener. The absence of a spatula as taught me that I can flip pancakes with chopsticks – my new talent!

Since the purpose of the hostel is to provide a place to stay for the night, beds are rather crucial. Some are comfortable, most are adequate and a few I will be happy to never see again. Since making and stripping your bed every night is tedious, staying in one location for several nights in a row is highly appealing. But if you are doing this, then space is an even greater concern. Most dorms have some sort of bunk system. I think my favourite has either custom made bunks or cubbies. In both cases the beds are raised higher for the person on the bottom to have enough head space to sit up on the bed. Wider bunks provide storage space for toiletries, clothes or bags. Hooks and hangers are important for hanging towels to dry and dark curtains block out light and create a sense of privacy. Rooms with only four beds can get by without the curtains, but it is nice anyway.

K's Oasis in Takayama. These beds are a cross between a capsule and a bunk, they are cubbies!

K’s Oasis in Takayama. These beds are a cross between a capsule and a bunk, they are cubbies!

Common rooms are a place to meet other travellers and hang out socially in the evenings. The size and arrangement of the space varies from one establishment to another. K’s Oasis in Takayama had a beautiful common room adjoining the well equipped kitchen. It had an end with tables for eating and another end with sofas for lounging. It was a great set up, only it was little too small for the number of beds in the hostel. Too small an area, means few people are able to linger and that changes the overall atmosphere of the hostel.

Laundry is only relevant if you are travelling for an extended period of time. For my winter trip of two weeks, I didn’t bother with laundry. It is summer however, and we are travelling for longer than two weeks and sweating far more in the constant heat. Laundry is important. Price is variable as is the quality of the equipment. I have had so many problems with laundry machines not working as they should. I have spent 600 yen to complete one load of laundry, where 400 yen was required to dry the clothes in 10 min cycles. Another time, the washer didn’t spin dry properly so I was left to wring out each garment by hand before hanging it to dry. Laundry can be a challenge at times.

Having friendly, knowledgeable staff manning the front counter is obviously a draw. It also helps if they can provide quick assistance in locating food (restaurants or grocery stores), using public transport and of course a streamlined rundown on the rules of the establishment.

The cubbies in Khaosan Origami Tokyo. What you don't see is that each bed also came with a good sized lock box and two numbered hangers! Good thing, as we spent more nights here than anywhere else!

The cubbies in Khaosan Origami Tokyo. What you don’t see is that each bed also came with a good sized lock box and two numbered hangers! Good thing, as we spent more nights here than anywhere else!

Finally, as a personal preference, I do like the places which have a shoe cupboard in the front entrance and a shared slipper box beside it. I am fond of walking around in socks or bare feet and that is just nice to do over floors that are not covered with grit and grime from the great outdoors.

With all these different criteria, how did my hostels stack up?

Coming out on top I would say that K’s in Kyoto is one of the best. Hana Hostel in Kyoto was also really good, except the air conditioner died in the middle of the night and the room was sweltering and too unbearable to remain in by 4am. K’s Oasis in Takayama was another excellent establishment as is Khaosan Origami in Tokyo (where I am currently) – even though the kitchen lacks a spatula and can opener.

Though to be fair, all of the places we have stayed have been fine. Just some have had more distinct negatives than others. So overall, Japan rates Good on the Hosteling experience.

 

Kevin’s ranking in stars (out of 5):

Smile Hotel – Utsunomiya *

SPACE Riverhouse Hostel – Nikko ***

Dot Hostel – Nagano ****

Backpackers Matsuyado Hostel- Matsumoto ***

K’s Oasis Hostel – Takayama *****

*Night Bus! (Nagoya to Sendai) 0

Keyaki Hostel – Sendai ***

K’s Hostel – Kyoto *****

Green Guest House – Kagoshima ****

Yakushima Youth Hostel – Yakushima/Miyoura ***

Akari Hostel – Nagasaki ***

Hana Hostel – Kyoto *****

Khaonsan Origami – Tokyo *****

Keyaki in Sendai. It has tatami floors and bunks - not actually exciting.

Keyaki in Sendai. It has tatami floors and bunks! If only the bunks were not so shaky.

Fairy tale Book Review: A Stolen Kiss by Kelsey Keating

Image of the book cover found on the internet.

Image of the book cover found on the internet.

I was perusing the online bookstore looking for things to read (preferably free) when I came across ~. I opened the digital book and scanned the first few pages posted online. I like this aspect of online book stores. You can get a lot of information from the first few pages of the book, though sometimes they can be deceiving. This time they struck a cord and I decided I really wanted to read this story. Only it wasn’t free. So I dithered over spending a whole $1.28 on the purchase. Since I am writing this review, I obviously did buy the book.

A Stolen Kiss by Kelsey Keating was exactly what the opening pages promised. It was a fairy-tale. Only, it didn’t stick just two one specific story. Instead it took elements of witches and wizards, of dark forests and magical creatures, of spells and curses and wove everything together into something new with a comfortable familiar feeling.

In this story we had a swan princesses and a newly wakened sorcerer. The story focuses on Princess Maria and apparent stable hand Daniel (also known as Derric, the son of the evil sorceress Gilda). They travel on a quest to free Maria of her swan-transformation curse with Prince Humphrey and Sarah. Humphrey is Maria’s betrothed. He is the younger prince of another kingdom with dreams of becoming an actor and marrying the girl he loves (who is not Maria). Sarah is Maria’s lady’s maid and Derric’s younger sister.

Only, as things are never quite what they seem, it turns out that Derric is not at all related to Sarah. Further, Sarah’s mother is not her biological parent (though her father really is her father). Yes, it is complicated, but the very best part is the strength of the relationship between the siblings. Even when they discover the truth of their bloodlines, Sarah states quite clearly that family is more than just blood, it is the people you love. And that doesn’t change. They are still siblings at the end of the story, fond of each other as close siblings can be.

P1170380I was also fond of Humphrey and his mysterious girlfriend. Who, in a surprising twist, was with them all the time. Well, sort of. Actually, for all the twists and reveals that came at the climatic end, it worked. Everything had been appropriately foreshadowed throughout the story so that nothing came from nowhere, even though much of it was a surprise.

A Stolen Kiss was a well written youth novel. I like the fairy-tale elements, which in the end support the strength of all the characters. For all the princess starts as the quintessential damsel in distress, she ends the story as her own strength and power. She returns to her kingdom, not to be married off to another prince who will then rule, but to rule herself. In fact, the author does a rather good job of marrying classic fairy-tale elements with modern ideals of equality.

P1170474The only drawback is the intended audience. This is clearly a young person story for ages 12 – 16 years old. Everything is spelled out neatly (and rather blatantly). But it is well done as a story. It is clean, crisp and engaging. While I might prefer a mode adult version, this is a good book and one I could easily recommend.

An Explosive Finishing

Gail 2Manners and Mutiny marks the fourth and final book in the Finishing School Series by Gail Carriger. It is a brilliant read! I still love Carriger’s style of writing. Sure the naming is a bit silly, the plots are ridiculous, and the characters are not the most real (some are dead after all!), but it is wonderfully well done. She is a perfect example of good writing. It is quirky, inventive and set in a world that is detailed and internally consistent. As a result I love her work.

I started with her first series, the Parasol Protectorate. While I might not love the name of the series, I did like the title of the first book: Souless. I was drawn to the strong female lead, the slightly odd manner of description (which is endlessly entertaining to read and reread), and the fantasy/steampunk world Victorian world. So, the undead and shapeshifters are not always my thing. And there are definitely elements that I am not fussed over, but when faced with great writing that draws you into the world and the characters, well nearly all else is forgiven.

Gail 4I would have expected writing a new series, with even more mechanicals, set a couple decades before the author’s original series would be problematic at best. Not only was there more technology, but the leads were younger and the writing was more for YA than adults. I confess I might have had my doubts at the beginning (stated in previous post). Fortunately the author had a plan, one that came to glowing fruition in this final installment. Manners & Mutiny neatly concluded the story arc of that had been started four novels earlier with Etiquette & Espionage. It cleaned up all the necessary loose ends and it hinted (or blatantly explained) a number of connections these characters have with those in the Parasol Protectorate. It was remarkably well done.

So, what was it all about? Well, in Etiquette & Espionage, young Sophronia is shipped off to an unusual, floating (dirigible) finishing school for young ladies. A school where they learn to … well, finish. They are being trained as intelligencers – spies, assassins, that sort of thing. At school they learn how to take out, or at least take down, humans, werewolves and vampires alongside other important subjects like correct dress, dancing, flirtation, and of course code-breaking. All the important traits any young lady of good Gail 3breeding ought to know when she is presented to society. Sophronia is a headstrong, resilient and very active girl. She easily gets herself into trouble, and nearly as often gets herself back out. But she is not without friends (from various parts of society), and those friendships help to define her and her choices. Manners & Mutiny sees Sophronia through the end of her school and sets the table for her future happenings.

Manners and Mutiny is simply another excellent example of superb writing. Gail Carriger has a strong, clear voice. She as a wonderfully quirky style of writing that is never boring to read. Her characters are alive with strengths and failings. The relationships are real and relevant in modern times. She does really well with the constraints of her Victorian society and doesn’t use this as a lazy reason to keep with the perceived status quo of fantasy writing. There is a discussion of skin colour and sexual orientation – it is masterfully handled and neither glaring nor so subtle to be missed.

This is an author whose books I would recommend – highly!

Cover of the book. I do not own this image or the other book covers in this post.

Cover of the book. I do not own this image or the other book covers in this post.

 

Forever TV

This promotional poster is not my own image, all rights belong to its creator.

This promotional poster is not my own image, all rights belong to its creator.

Forever is the title of a 2014-2015 American police procedural TV show. It lasted for one season and I am currently two episodes from the end. I think if the show had continued I would still stop around the end of the first season.

It is a cop show were the two leads are a female detective and a male coroner. Dr. Henry Morgan is blessed or cursed with seeming immortality. He has been alive for the past 200 years. Not to say he doesn’t die, he just keeps coming back at the same age and apparently in the same physical condition. He doesn’t appear to age either. It is kind of a cheesy concept, that I found a little interesting – at least to start. Unfortunately, I don’t think they made very good use of the two hundred year old history. While the plots are filled with lots of twists that sweep you through the 50 minute time frame, I have several problems with the program.

I think a lot of the problems stem from the nature of TV. It is episodic. Further, to exacerbate this characteristic, it has different writers working on each episode. This leads to a number of inconsistencies which become even more numerous and glaring as time progresses.

With the coroner being detailed oriented and very intelligent, it was very noticeable when he contradicts his own words between episodes. One example of this occurs when a murder victim is slashed across the throat. He points out, that the killer was smart enough not to pull back the head as that action pushes the cartilage supported trachea (the windpipe) forward thus protecting the main arteries in the neck. By titling the head forward the cut is easier and more effective in killing the victim. A couple of episodes later, the good Dr. himself is killed with a knife to the throat. Again he comments on the ruthless proficiency of the killer who pulls back his head and slices his neck open. Obvious contradiction to earlier information.

FOREVER - ABC's "Forever" stars Judd Hirsch as Abe, Ioan Gruffudd as Henry and Alana De La Garza as Detective Jo Martinez. (ABC/Bob D'Amico) - image is not mine and belongs to the appropriate creator.

FOREVER – ABC’s “Forever” stars Judd Hirsch as Abe, Ioan Gruffudd as Henry and Alana De La Garza as Detective Jo Martinez. (ABC/Bob D’Amico) – image is not mine and belongs to the appropriate creator.

The side characters are constantly changing opinions. Abe, the Dr.’s adopted son from WWII could have been an interesting character with such a long shared history with Henry. Unfortunately, the writers struggle to know what the relationship is, how to develop it and more importantly how to keep Abe’s character consistent. He is always flip-flopping between pushing Henry to keep his secrete and share his secrete. It doesn’t make sense. The relationship they do have is clichéd and worse very shallow – mostly because there is no single writer to properly showcase the complexities of a 65 year old son living with a 200 year old father who appears to be 35 years old.

Lucas is the assistant M.E. He is best written as smart and capable with a strong regard for Henry. But again, the writers are not always consistent with him. Occasionally he is treated like an nerdy, idiot that no one wants to associate with. It is just so muddled that I find it frustrating.

Then we come to the biggest issue I have with the program, Adam. He is another immortal having been alive for some 2,000 years – or so he claims. I understand and even appreciate the desire to have some greater arc to a TV series. Sure each episode is a new crime to be solved, but watching characters change and evolve; learning about their histories can in theory be a strong draw for a program. If it is done well. Unfortunately, Adam, much like Red John in the Mentalist, is more of an irritating and jarring addition to the set. He doesn’t fit. His desire to taunt Henry is more off putting than engaging. For a man who is supposedly 2,000 years old he is shockingly bland as a character. He is also, surprise, surprise, Henry’s nemesis (mostly). Why? For reasons is the best I can discern.

I do, sincerely appreciate the idea of Adam. It is good in many ways to have another character who is also in the same predicament as the Dr. If done well, it could be used to show how people would view immortality differently. How they would live their lives differently. But I don’t feel that is accomplished. Adam is tossed in for the cheap, meaningless moments of stress for Henry. He attempts to challenge Henry’s views and actions only work to show how shallow of a character our 200 year old man is.

Caste of the series - image is not mine. Characters from the left: Lucas, Abe, Dr. Henry, Detective Jo, Detective Hansen, and Lt. Reece.

Caste of the series – image is not mine. Characters from the left: Lucas, Abe, Dr. Henry, Detective Jo, Detective Hansen, and Lt. Reece.

And if that wasn’t enough, the series has started to fall into the main trap of shipping the two leads. Really? Why does Detective Jo and Dr. Henry have to be in a relationship with each other? Why can’t they have relationships with other characters? The program teases you with such possibilities, but in the end (literally the third last episode) we have Jo trying to express her feelings for the Dr. who has only shown interest as a friend. It is such an over done cliché that I cannot properly express my utter disappointment in the series for doing this. Completely Disappoint.

In the end, I am glad Forever didn’t last. It really couldn’t in my mind. Not with the shallow characters and standard plot. There are dozens of police procedurals on TV. Even within a program you can only kill a person so many ways before things start to become repetitive. Multiple writers might bring new and crazy ideas for the cop part of the show – different killers and methods of crime – but they also reduce the opportunity for the main characters to develop. You can’t have character or world growth in a consistent world with different people writing each episode. With the change in writer you change the voice of the characters on screen, because what most people fail to realize is how important a good writer is to a movie or TV show. Writers are important, but writing for TV seems to create some obstacles that cannot be overcome. At least, I haven’t seen it done well yet.

The Golden Apple – Book Review

Book Cover for the Golden Apple - borrowed from the internet.

Book Cover for the Golden Apple – borrowed from the internet.

The Golden Apple by Michelle Diener is a competently written young adult fantasy. It reads like a fairy tale with the classic elements of princesses, knights, sorcerers, witches and woodsmen. There is a Great Forest filled with strange and terrible magic, a quest and of course a magical Golden Apple. Unfortunately, the author also throws in some mythical creatures/races at the end of the book that seem incongruous with the rest of the world she was trying to create.

The plot moves along at a healthy clip. It does not waste time or drag out character growth and change. That is not to say there isn’t character development. The two leads develop much as I would expect them to, they just don’t dwell much on their troubles as they move purposefully through the plot. Things are constantly happening. And the characters spend just enough time talking with each other and dialoging internally to explain everything clearly to the reader. Things are certainly not slow. And that is good.

The only down side, is that it is not elegant. It is efficient, solid and just a little juvenile. However, considering the target audience, that is perhaps the intent. It is not poetic or beautifully written prose. But it is well done.

The princess is strong, brave and good. She is the modern princess who is taking charge of her life and not going to let her father or any other man tell her what to do. Well, outside of the Evil Sorcerer who has enchanted the princess to fetch a relic for him.

This book lacks Red Pandas, but it does have a giant bespelled house cat.

This book lacks Red Pandas, but it does have a giant bespelled house cat.

The woodsman is similarly heroic, strong and good. Sure he might have lied a little in the beginning, but that is because he is trying to save the life of another. Besides, he learns quickly the princesses is definitely worth protecting; even if he will need the rescuing towards the end.

After the prerequisite rough start our two protagonists discover they work best together. They fight the Evils sorcerer and Duke. They overcome the dangers of the Great Forest. They are reckless enough to have faults and good enough to show mercy and kindness to the fairy-required strangers. And naturally they fall in love. Though all intimate scenes are kept strictly PG.

The Golden Apple is a strong young adult fantasy, with no serious flaws and PG imagery. It is good and if I was to rate it I would give it 4 stars out of 5. Why? Because it was not special. It was not wonderfully written being generic much of the time. It was competently written – which is to say that is better than most things I have read in a while. But there are still far better works out there. So solidly good, just not spectacularly great.

Kingmakers Series – Book Review

The first book in the Kingmakers series. I did like the cover.

The first book in the Kingmakers series. I did like the cover.

Arrows of Change and Arrows of Promise are two books in the Kingmakers series by Honor Raconteur. I don’t know if the author has finished writing in this world or whether more books will be coming out. They are both ebooks and I actually spent money on them. Well, I spent money on the first book and got the second for free. However, I did pay more than $5 for the first book – and for me and a digital book that is not inexpensive.

Was it worth it? Well, I am feeling more forgiving now that I have finished the two books. But I would not describe the pair as good. They are not bad either. They are mostly boring. There is nothing offensively bad about the books. The idea is interesting enough, but the execution leaves much to be desired.

The greatest crime committed by the books is that they are flat and effectively lifeless. There is no significant character development. The good characters are all nice, hard-working, honest, upstanding, and righteous. The villains are vague, described as power hungry, violent, mad but mostly they are all in the background like some distant shadowy threat. They are just enough of a threat to unite the heroes and provide mooks for the justified killing.

While I find the concept of a dukedom pulling away from the larger kingdom to become independent an interesting topic, there was no depth to this story. The dukedom was perfectly good, with no flaws. The new King is organizing a modern government with elected positions, with laws made with input from the people and levels of bureaucracy to ensure there can be no tyrannical king. This also arranged haphazardly and seems like the characters are preaching modern morals. It is all presented as obviously good and the best option. But some of the ideas could use some serious scrutiny. Sure it is great that Rape is being treated seriously – but there is no consideration for why people do these horrendous crimes. However, if you ever felt that the death penalty was the best option for murder and rape then you will support this little utopia society quite nicely.

Sadly the daughter has redder than red hair. I could have lived without that cliche.

Sadly the daughter has redder than red hair. I could have lived without that cliche.

If however you are looking for some interesting conflict for discussion, don’t read this book. Everything is solved in the best case scenario. They magically work out for the characters. Conflicts are often minor or so big to be un-relatable. Even the premise for the separation of the dukedom from the larger kingdom is presented as something only good people would do and to argue otherwise would show you as evil. As such, there is no interest there, no development.

Further the style of writing, which flips between a father and daughter, is dry. It could be interesting. It could be new and fresh to have your primary leads as a father-daughter pair. But they don’t do anything with this. They characters are nearly the same to be almost interchangeable. They have no personal growth (at least not worth mentioning) and they tend to just tell the reader things. While both are expert archers, they are also good to grasp other tasks (a typical trait of primary protagonists). They are flat, lifeless creatures whose greatest trait is the manner of their speech which is clearly different from the rest of the main characters.

Oh, and there are wizards in this world. Wizards who become partners for this duo of most amazing archers (their skills are those of TV actors in amazingness). Wizards who can do anything with magic – literally anything. It is a terrible magic system as there are not clear constraints on the magic. If you can do it with your hands, wizards can do it faster and with magic. It makes them tired but that is about it. It is a lackluster system.

P1130897Could it have been interesting? Absolutely! I think looking at why one group of people would break away from the larger whole would be an interesting topic. Sure they are the underdogs, but you could also look at how that fracture would affect the larger kingdom. You could also look at the rebels as arrogant or greedy from one perspective, and determined and resilient from another perspective. It could make for an interesting story. But you need to look at both the good and the bad.

The problem that the main characters are stupid and didn’t have a plan for succession shows them as idiotic and creates some strange artificial utopian council where everyone works together to create some mystically appealing rules the populace will adore. It was unrealistic. If you want to look at the work going into building a new kingdom, then set it up as a political story and do justice to the problems involved.

If you want to focus on the amazing skills of your archers, then you might want to tell a different story altogether as this had little opportunity to showcase their skills. That said, it is difficult to explain how amazing an archer is from their perspective and the fight scenes were skimmed over rather than read.

Still, the Kingmakers books weren’t offensive in any regard. They were just lackluster = three stars out of 5 (if I had to put a number on it).

 

Air Awakens Book Review

Air AwakensI realize it has been a long time since I have posted anything. It has also been a long time since I have read anything. However, it is Golden Week, here on the other side of the world. And that has afforded me some time to do a little light reading. I also splurged and actually bought a book.

The Air Awakens was written by Elise Kova. It revolves a young woman, Vhalla, who works in the Palace Library until she discovers that she is blessed or cursed with magic. Magic is the ability to manipulate one of the classic four elements. As it turns out, Vhalla possess the extraordinarily rare Affinity for Air. Unfortunately, Vhalla has been raised to fear and hate magic. Compound this with an uncertain relationship with the mighty and terrible Crown Prince and Vhalla’s ordinary and simple life becomes suddenly complicated.

So, what did I think? Well, the book was engaging. I read it one sitting – which is generally a good sign. I did not skip ahead either, another good sign. I liked the story. And I especially liked that it was a story. Yes, this is book one in a series. And there is no doubt when you reach the ending that it is just starting some large war arc.

However, I didn’t feel cheated by the end. Sure, the story was still going and certainly there are threads left dangling to entice the reader (particularly the Bond between Vhalla and the Crown Prince – which the author tries to leave vague). Still, Vhalla did change over the course of the story. Other characters came more into focus. And the world itself developed. While there is still much going on, I feel the book was complete enough.

Parasitic plant in the forest. It has no chlorophyll!

Parasitic plant in the forest. It has no chlorophyll!

Was this book perfect? Of course not! I confess there were moments when it dragged a little, as it retread old ground. Occasionally it was difficult to relate to Vhalla’s reluctance to join the Tower of Sorcerers. Especially as their lives were clearly not evil and they lived in far better condition that she did as an Apprentice in the Library. A good attempt was made to show the progression of thoughts that bound Vhalla to her old life and how those changed with time. Most authors would have written the story in the first person perspective to cover this concept. I am grateful that Kova did not. It was a nice change not to have to listen to every rambling thought of the main protagonist.

The trail tossed in at the end was certainly forced. Politics should have been introduced earlier, though would have helped to ease this transition. Really, the last third of the book is rather discontinuous with the earlier style. The end portion was obviously written to set up the next books in the series. Where as the first part was more of a character study, the second part was the introduction of politics and obvious villains sent to test the fortitude of the hero.

The other problem I have with the book is the magic. Magic is linked to the very boring four element theory. We learn that mages ‘Awaken’ to their powers as we see Vhalla do. We know that mages need to study to master their skills, again we start to see this process with Vhalla. But just what are the restrictions and limitations. Just what skills does the heroine possess? That is made even less clear by the end of the story when suddenly Vhalla not only accepts that she can do magic, but that she can kill powerful people at a distance. This was not entirely unexpected, but it was a bit awkward. Once again showing the disconnect between the start of the book and its conclusion.

So, the story was not the most original tale. It was written with enough interest and pacing to engage the reader. While it does raise some interesting questions about war and empires, I am not holding my breath for an actual discussion about either one.

I suppose that leaves one other obvious question: will I buy the sequels (as that is the only way to read them)? The answer is a mixed yes and no. Yes, I can see myself buying the next book in the series. But not immediately. I will wait to see if I can get it at a cheaper price. Also, the story is setting a very predictable plot line, so it is not a priority. Still, if you are looking for a fun, light fantasy than this is a good book to try.

The Breaker Rig – Part 4

Sophie dozed fitfully. It was much later in the morning than she intended when she packed her bags. Would she notice if she slipped away now? Maybe…maybe she had changed her mind. Sophie fingered the threads on her bracelet. Hadn’t they been close before?

Outside, the camp appeared deserted.

‘I didn’t think it was that late,’ she muttered to the sky. ‘They cannot have started without me. Hey, excuse me!’ Sophie called to one of the night shift workers staggering towards his tent. ‘Do you know where I can find Anika?’

The woman shrugged. ‘It is day, so she is probably on the rig.’

Sophie nodded and turned to face the weathered-grey beast. It was huge, four or five stories tall. Chains clinked as they hulled empty buckets out along its neck before plunging them deep into the earth. Steam wafted through the top of the monster, wreathing its body in perpetual fog. A rain of small rocks and stone cascaded from the tail. The growing pile snaked along the back side of the pond.

The bridge was alarmingly narrow. Parallel boards and a rail on the left side were all that connected land to creature. Sophie gripped the handrail and shuffled slowly across the expansive moat. The water was murky. It wasn’t deep, but there were broken rocks hidden below its surface. Where there other horrors waiting as well? Poisonous snakes perhaps?

Sophie felt her heart race as she inched forward. She exhaled deeply when both of her feet found sound purchase on the floor of the rig. It took several heartbeats before Sophie’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the cavernous interior. Massive gears turned slow rotations. Mouthfuls of earth were dumped noisily into troughs where the contents were rattled past sieves. Water was added to this mixture. The flow added to the cacophony of sound in the room.

Anika stood in the centre of the open floor. Hands rested on her hips. Even at this distance, Sophie could see the dark glower spread across her sister’s face. Sophie swallowed and took another step forward. This was Anika, her beloved sister.P1040203

‘You shouldn’t have come,’ Anika said.

‘I am leaving today. After the charm is finished, Georges said he would take me back to town. Come with me Anika. Please come home with me.’

‘Chesico is not my home!’

‘And this is?’ Sophie flung her hands wide. ‘This is … this is primitive and you hate primitive. You hate bad manners and dirty clothes.’

‘I hate poverty,’ Anika said, her voice slicing through the sounds of metal grinding into rock. ‘I hate being without while everyone else have everything.’

‘You have nothing here!’

‘I do! I will have. There is gold in this land. Wealth and power like you have never experienced. It is here for the taking.’ Sunlight spilled through a crack in the roof of the rig. It slipped between wooden boards and became lost in the dark depths of Anika’s eyes. ‘It is here to be found by those with enough courage and determination. I have that. I have strength and power. I will find it, extract it.’

‘Where?’ Sophie gestured at the tumbling conveyor system. Rock and gravel tumbled past. It mixed with water. Sieves rattled as they sorted dirt by size. Pans sloshed as mud moved around their depths. The bottom remained empty of gold. There was nothing in the earth to harvest. ‘Where is your gold, Anika? This is barely survival. Come, you are better than this. You had a steady job in Chesico. We had our own place, our own home.’

‘We had squalor,’ Anika spat. ‘A tenement with only two rooms and the memories of something better.’

‘It was bigger than your tent.’

‘It was small. It was crumbling. It was pathetic. No one would choose to remain in that dingy hole.’

Sophie took half a step backwards. Anika continued to speak. Sophie had drawn forth the words that showered down, only she didn’t want them now. She didn’t want to hear this from her sister.

‘It was a constant, heavy chain. It was prison for me. There was no future in Chesico. Why could you never see that? Our father saw it. He… he knew when to escape a lost cause.’

‘He was devastated by our mother’s death!’

‘He would have stayed, but there was no money left. He had to leave. It was only reasonable.’

‘Like you left? Two days. You were gone in only two days. Said you were going for a little while as you walked out the door! You were worse than our father. You didn’t tell me that the apartment had been given up.’

‘You couldn’t afford to keep it.’

‘Because you took all the money! I thought you didn’t realize, but you knew all along what you were doing. At least our father didn’t sell our possessions, take all the money and leave with barely a goodbye.’

P1040403‘No he drowned himself in gin before disappearing. He left us with nothing.’

‘I was there,’ Sophie whispered. Her voice struggled to be heard over the clank of the breaker rig, the sound of the earth being ripped to shreds.

‘You and all your needs. What did you ever do besides wasting hours and money on charm lessons?’

‘I helped,’ Sophie stammered. ‘I cooked and cleaned and I learned charms to help with rent.’

‘You cooked meals of beans and rice flavoured with weeds found growing between cracks. You cleaned a house that was smaller than my bedroom when we were children. You kept us chained to crumbling ruins and shattered pasts. You were nothing but a burden to me. I wasted my life looking after you. I sunk everything into you until I was a shadow of myself: sick and exhausted.’

Anika surveyed the metal gears rotating slowly on long shafts. She watched another bucket of dirt being dumped onto the conveyor system. ‘The rig needs a special hand to keep it running. It may not look like much, but it is going to fix things.’ Anika nodded to herself. Her face set with grim determination. ‘This is going to work. Wealth is going to pour from these rocks and everything will be better. I will make it work.’ She leveled her stony gaze on Sophie. ‘I have the strength for this. No one is going to stand in my way.’

‘What are you doing, Anika?’

‘I am doing what you never could, what you never had the courage to do. I am defining my own future, not cowering pathetically behind half-sung charms. I will not be tied down any longer, while you make weak excuses for why life is terrible. No more will I suffer needlessly because of your selfish attitude.’

‘My attitude? I didn’t hold you back.’

‘You would tie me to poverty, because you are too frightened to work your charms. I always knew you were bluster but no substance, a coward. All those years of education, for what? Can you do even the most basic of charms? Or will you run away without even trying?’

Sophie could feel her blood starting to boil. ‘I will show you what I know!’ she shouted. ‘I am not something useless to be tossed aside. You will see.’

The words of the Gold Charm had been ridiculously easy, as though the charm was written by a child. The music was simplistic in its rhythm and pitch. Any beginning charmer could learn the basics of the charm in a day. Sophie was no beginner. She knew what they were trying to do, weaving six voices together for the charm.

Charms always worked best with repetition. Most charms were repeated verses, overlapping to build strength. Charmers worked the same charms over and over again, as repeated singing also lent them strength. This was the idea behind the churches. Whole congregations would renew the charms of the parish every week: increasing the potency of their charms.

Sophie opened her mouth. She focused on the core idea of the charm: like to like. Gold was found in the body of the earth, just as blood was found beneath the skin of the flesh. Earth and body were akin to each other. Bring the blood to the surface to draw the molten core through the layers of cold, solid rock. Rock to bone, heat to fire, gold to blood.

Sophie was so angry she could feel her own blood boiling beneath the solid skin of her body. Unfocused eyes stared blindly at Anika, as Sophie wished her sister could feel her anger. She wished Anika could know the pain she felt. She had been humiliated to discover from the landlady she no longer had an apartment because Anika had stopped payments. She had been terrified to journey into an unknown land in search of her sister. She had been anxious about the health of Anika. She had been so hurt by her sister’s words.

Anika had cut Sophie. Anika had been a knife drawing more than tears from her younger sister.

‘You were always too easy to manipulate,’ Anika’s voice whispered in Sophie’s ear. She could feel pressure at her wrists. There was a sharp, nearly distracting stab of pain. Then something was pressed against her wrists. Pain came in waves, while the music of the charm rose around her.

Sophie’s voice faltered, but the singing never stopped. Instead it grew in strength and determination. Waves of agony washed over Sophie as she tried to focus on Anika.

‘Blood to gold,’ her sister echoed.

Sophie forced her attention down to her wrists. It felt like an eternity getting her body to respond. Her head tilted slowly until she could see. Anika held her wrists. Her thumbs pressed down on pieces of gold, pinning the metal to Sophie’s flesh. Blood seeped up from wounded skin, red and gold mixing together in Sophie’s blurry vision.

P1040377‘What did you do?’ Sophie hissed her voice struggling with the words.

‘I need this claim to succeed. I need a future.’

‘Why? Why did you do this to me?’

‘It is just a little blood.’ Anika’s face twisted before her.

The words swam through Sophie’s mind. She grappled with their meaning. Everything was taking too long. She felt weak and confused as though she were still asleep, caught in some bizarre nightmare. It was more than blood spilling from her wrists. She could feel her life draining. ‘You’re killing me.’

Anika didn’t speak, her lips pressed together in determination. Sophie tried to catch Anika’s eye, but her sister wouldn’t look at her.

Sophie could feel the truth in her words. She was weakening, dying. Her anger flared once more. She wasn’t going to end like this. The anger twisted upon itself becoming a torrent of emotion. Around her the song was gaining in strength; she could feel it. She could feel Anika holding her in place, using her as an anchor to the charm: the focal point. She was the blood to draw the gold from the earth.

Sophie bucked. She wouldn’t be used like this. She fought the nausea and dizziness that threatened to sweep her away. Instead she focused on the charm, on the music that was tightening around them. She spun with it. Her voice joined the other charmers singing somewhere in the distance.

Gold to blood, echoed the words in her mind. Blood to blood. Sophie pushed the intent. She thought of the charm she had woven to help her find Anika: twisted threads tying them together. They were of the same parents, same blood and bone. Heat flowed through Sophie. Anika had broken their bond. She had attacked Sophie with everything she had, so Sophie pushed back. She was anger and fire. She was molten heat. The charm wove around them, tugging and pulling as Sophie redirected its focus.

In the distance she could hear screaming. She could feel the blaze of emotion burning brightly around her. The molten core rose, erupting from skin and rock. Gold and blood mixed.

The song became a charm with a force of its own, releasing the singers. Voices shouted. Sophie burned until the heat was unbearable. Her body was in agony. Every inch of her flesh was on fire. Some small corner of her mind knew she needed to end the charm. She needed to cool down. Like liquid metal she needed to cool the surface; make it solid and stable once more.

Sophie swayed on her feet. Her vision was streaks of red and gold; liquid flames wavered before her. She blinked trying to clear it. People talked in cracked, worried voices. Their words were a blur, a mash of noise without sense or meaning.

Gradually, the fire seeped out of Sophie. She could still feel its effects. Sweat poured down her back. It dripped from her forehead, stinging her eyes. The pain eased throughout her body, except her wrists which continued to burn.

A swollen tongue licked dry, cracked lips. The agitated shadows were resolving themselves into figures with faces. Sophie stared at them blankly. She struggled to connect names with those who stood before her. She looked from one to the next, searching for one who would always be familiar. When she didn’t see Anika, Sophie dropped her gaze to her wrists. They still danced with gold and red flames in her twisted vision. The flames licked forward singeing the flesh of hands still connected to her body. Anika lay crumpled at Sophie’s feet. Her face contorted with pain and fear. Her hands locked to Sophie’s wrists.

Sophie jerked back. She wretched her arms free of Anika’s fingers. She screamed as pain flared through her wrists. Anika continued to stare unseeingly up, her eyes flat as though the colour had been burnt from them. She didn’t move. Sophie looked up at those gathered around her. She saw the fear in their features. She saw tears streaking their faces.

Sophie turned and ran. She stumbled across the bridge. She tripped over roots and stones. She ran blindly until she came to a small creek. There she thrust her aching wrists into the frigid water. Steam rose and her vision blurred once more. As the pain numbed, Sophie wiped the tears from her eyes. She sat back on the damp, muddy ground and hugged her knees.

It couldn’t be real, she thought over and over. But she couldn’t make herself return. She couldn’t face the truth of what she had done to her sister. Anika had lied, but Sophie… Sophie turned and emptied her stomach onto the ground.

A twig snapped behind her. Sophie turned. Georges stood a dozen paces away, watching. His eyes were glassy as they stared at her, at her wrists.

Sophie followed his gaze. Her skin looked strange in the dappled light. It was no longer a violent red. Instead it looked… it looked… Sophie twisted her arms before her. Light glinted off bands of gold that encased her lower arm. Gingerly she touched the area. It felt smooth like new skin.

Trembling, Sophie turned back to Georges. He still watched her, his face a mix of emotions: horror, fear, sadness and something almost hungry lurking in its depths.

P1040393‘I don’t know what happened,’ Sophie faltered.

‘Anika is dead,’ Georges replied slowly. He looked from her wrists to her eyes. ‘You killed her.’

‘No!’

‘She burned from where she touched you.’

‘I didn’t, I couldn’t…I have to leave!’

‘I don’t think so, Sophie.’ Georges voice was soft and steady. ‘You seem to have a unique gift.’ His eyes drifted back to her wrists. ‘An even greater affinity for gold than we had ever thought. No, you still have your use, I think.’

‘I can’t. I won’t. Please, please let me go home. I can’t go back there. I can’t.’

‘Anika will be gone by the time we return.’

‘What did you do to her?’

Georges frowned. ‘She will be buried, as would anyone who dies on my rig. You will take her place.’

‘I know nothing of mechanicals.’

‘But you do know charms,’ Georges said with a predatory smile. ‘A talent I think we can work with. Come Sophie, you have nowhere else to go. You will never find your way back to Dawn city without me. There is either the claim or death in these wilds.’

‘People have survived in the wilds.’

‘You are a city girl. It won’t be an easy death.’ Georges stood there, watching and waiting. He didn’t move as she debated with herself. How could she ever live with what she had done? Perhaps death was the better option.

Sophie looked up, but Georges just stood there waiting. He shifted into a more comfortable position. Arms crossed over his chest he watched her. Nothing was said. For a long time Sophie sat and wondered when he would turn and leave. But he never did.

Finally, Sophie got to her feet. She wobbled; her legs unsteady. She swatted away Georges silent offer of help. She stumbled into the woods half dozen paces before she spoke. ‘Are you going to lead us back? Because I certainly don’t know the way.’

Georges said nothing as he took the lead. He set a slow, gentle pace.

‘I am a coward,’ Sophie muttered as she followed. She moved to finger the charms on her bracelet. Her fingers brushed against golden skin, strangely pliable and warm. She no longer had her bracelets, the charms from her family. Sophie swiped at more tears as she staggered forward.

The Breaker Rig – Part 3

P1030900It was a long, jarring ride to Georges’ claim. Sophie sat wedged between barrels of salted pork and sacks of flour. There were other boxes of supplies including metal gears and dark, viscous oil. Georges drove from a narrow bench at the front of the wagon. Sophie had offered to sit beside him. But Georges had insisted she remain in the back, protected from the sun and elements beneath the canvas cover.

It was stuffy and uncomfortable. Sophie felt every rut and stone they hit, which must have been a continuous stream of obstructions from Dawn City to the claim. Food had been offered around midday, when Georges paused for ten minutes. He had been distant in his interactions: either ignoring or failing to hear any of her questions.

The day dragged along with only a narrow view of the trail for Sophie to watch. She was bruised and sore when the wagon finally splashed across a shallow river and came to a stop. With effort Sophie wiggled her way to the back of the wagon, determined to stretch her legs and back. Everything ached as she gingerly eased herself to stable ground.

As she rounded the front, she noticed Georges strolling along the edge of a pond. In the middle of the water a massive wooden structure floated.

‘What is that?’ Sophie wondered aloud.

‘That is the breaker rig.’

Sophie squeaked and jumped. Spinning she found herself facing a young man about her own age. His dark hair was cropped short and his green eyes danced as they observed her.

‘I didn’t know Georges was bringing women back to camp.’

‘He is not. Well, I suppose he is. But it is not like that,’ Sophie stammered. ‘I am a charmer.’

‘Of course you are,’ the man said sliding the reigns over the head of the horse. ‘Akram Naras.’

He offered her his hand. Sophie glanced at the charms on his wrist as she introduced herself.

‘You are one of the charmers?’ she said her eyes catching the six-sided sun etched with a crescent moon.

‘You must be our sixth,’ Akram acknowledged. ‘Welcome to the claim.’

Sophie looked from the young man to the strange structure floating in the water. ‘Um, what is a breaker rig?’

‘That is a breaker rig. It is the largest in the North. Georges had it special made then shipped here piece by piece. Took a force of people to assemble, or so I understand. I wasn’t around then.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Sophie muttered utterly confused. ‘Er, what does it do?’

‘See that end there? The one that juts out with the metal buckets? Well, those teeth on the edge of the bucket help it break through the rock and soil to scoop up dirt. Makes a terrible racket.’

‘It seems pretty quiet now,’ Sophie observed. She could hear the wind in the trees and the twittering of birds but nothing else.

‘Oh, it is silent now. Broken. Something exploded on the inside not an hour ago. That is where Georges went. See we only get a brief summer this far North. Doesn’t even get warm enough to fully thaw the ground. So Georges wants this rig running all day and all night until the season shifts.’

‘Not warm enough?’ Sophie echoed skeptically. She wiped the damp from her forehead with the cuff of her dress.

P1030921Akram chuckled. ‘Once the ground is scooped up, it is carried into the big structure you see there. There are a whole series of conveyors and sieves and water used to sort the gold pieces or dust from the rest of the rock and dirt. The waste material is ejected out that end and forms those huge piles of rocky debris.’

‘Does it often break down?’

‘Seems to be breaking down a fair bit of late.’

‘So what do you do now?’

‘There isn’t much for charmers to do while the mechanists are busy playing with their gears and shafts. Right now, I should probably start unloading the supplies. Georges likes things to be properly stored otherwise supplies spoil and that is never a good thing. You might as well come with me. I am sure Georges won’t want to talk to you until the rig is up and running again.’

*

Steam erupted from the top of the rig’s body. Gears ground together, the sound echoing off the surrounding hills.

It was like a castle of old, with a moat around its base. At the front end huge chains jerked into action. Metal buckets with iron teeth dove into the rock. They scooped up hungry mouthfuls of soil and carried into the rig’s body where it was lost from Sophie’s view. On the other end a long arm or tail dropped waste material in long snaking piles.

‘It looks so simple.’

‘Only because we are not on the inside. The rig uses a system of sieves and water sluices to separate the heavier gold from the remaining sediment.’ Akram explained. ‘It takes three crews of six to operate it.’

‘So many people?’ Sophie echoed. She looked around at the tiny camp. There were a dozen tents but surely not enough for all of them, plus the half dozen charmers Georges said he needed.

‘One crew is always sleeping. The next shift would have been called in early to help fix whatever went wrong. It is very large inside. Some of the gears are two stories tall.’

‘And what do you do? What sort of charm work would necessitate six charmers?’

‘The Gold Charm,’ Akram exhaled. His gaze shifted beyond the wooden frame of the rig. ‘Georges has an idea to call gold from the ground to the surface. Like to like.’

‘That doesn’t make any sense! Where are the similarities?’

‘That is perhaps the most interesting aspect. Where do you think gold comes from?’

‘The ground?’ They were digging up the ground in search of the precious metal.

‘Ok, foolish question. Obviously, we wouldn’t be working the claim if we didn’t think gold came from the ground. That is not the point I am trying to make. Gold isn’t just found lying onto of the ground, not all of it. It comes from deeper within the earth.’

‘Like coal? Miners dig deep under the surface to extract the resource.’

‘I suppose so,’ Akram said slowly. ‘Only there are lots of differences between coal and gold. However, they are both components of the earth. You start digging, even in an area rich in the metal and you must pull up dirt and rock. Now you scratch your skin, your surface and eventually you will start drawing blood.’

‘But blood is liquid and gold is solid.’

‘Not at high temperatures. Use a hot enough fire and gold melts.’

‘You still need to actively apply that heat to make it molten.’

‘We do, because like the blood in you, when it reaches the surface it cools, becoming solid.’

Sophie looked at Akram. ‘You seriously believe gold is the lifeblood of the earth?’

‘I feel it is better considered a part. Just as there are several components to your own blood. I think Georges theory is quite sound.’

‘And the charm…?’

‘Like to like,’ Akram said. ‘Georges wants to draw gold from the land like a doctor bleeding a patient.’

Sophie swallowed. ‘That is a bold charm. You do know charms don’t happen that … er quickly. Charms are not really like doctors extracting fluids from patients.’

‘Obviously,’ Akram said. ‘However, a charm that could draw gold to the claim, well that would be incredible. Having a way to sense the gold in a claim would also be a worthwhile success. This charm is going to change things, of that I am certain. First you need to learn the words. The rest will follow quickly.’

Across the pond, the sound of the rig’s engine smoothed out into a steady rhythm. It was accompanied by the crashing of sharp-toothed metal buckets into the earth. The valley where the river had been dammed to create the small pound reverberated with the rig’s noise.

Akram pressed his lips together. ‘I think they are done.’

‘Done?’

‘Well the day shift is done now that the rig is working again. The night shift will be taking over. Look, there is Georges leading the crew.’

A parade of people now occupied the narrow bridge connecting the rig with land. At its lead was Georges, his floppy hat still perched over limp hair. His clothes appeared to have acquired another layer of dirt and grim. The rest were similarly sweaty people in the ubiquitous brown uniform of the north.

In their midst, near the back was a slim, familiar figure. The sleek dark hair had been ruthlessly pulled back and plaited. It was such a simple hairstyle, nothing Sophie associated with her sister. Of course, she hadn’t seen her sister this filthy in years.

Sophie took off. She couldn’t help the wide, grin she knew spread across her face. Anika was there, looking just as exhausted as the rest. But there was no doubt, this was her beloved sister.

‘Anika! Anika! Anika!’ Sophie sang as she raced forward. She threw her arms around her older sister the moment Anika stepped off the bridge. ‘I thought I would never find you. Oh, I am so glad you are alright. I was worried. And it was such a long trip here. I had to come by air-carriage, which was terrible. And then no one knew you in town. I didn’t know how I was going to survive.’

Sophie babbled. Words slipped from her tongue in a torrent of nonsense. She was only half aware of what she was saying: how worried she had been, how lonely Chesico was without her, how their neighbours had gossiped, how strange and awkward the north was, and how soon they could go back home. Everything she had been thinking since she woke to find her sister gone poured out of Sophie in an incoherent mess.

In her arms, Anika was very still.

‘Is something wrong? Are you hurt? Oh, dear I have been crushing you when you were injured.’ Sophie stepped back frantically looking Anika over. Her sister was smeared in dirt. It streaked her face like some primitive war paint. There were tears in her shirt and strands of coal black hair were escaping the practical braid.

P1030933‘What is wrong? Talk to me Anika,’ Sophie said. ‘Why don’t you look at me?’

‘Why did you come?’ Anika’s rough voice was low, her eyes watching the ground at their feet. ‘You hate travel.’

‘I was worried. You have been gone so long. I thought you were lost. I thought you were never coming back.’

‘I never asked you to come.’

‘I had to know what happened to you. I had to find you.’

‘Well now that you have, you can leave.’ Anika’s hand flew out gripping Sophie by the arm. Anika pulled her with more strength than Sophie remembered her sister possessing. They were headed back to the camp, to the cluster of tents, the cabin and the wagon. ‘Go, Sophie, go back to the city.’

‘Not without you, Anika. I won’t leave you behind.’

‘I don’t want you here. Leave. Get back on the wagon or whatever you used to get here and return. Go back to Chesico and never seek me out again.’ Anika lifted her dark glittering eyes. They were the same almond shape Sophie remembered. They held the same self-confidence she always admired in her sister. But there was something else there too, something less welcoming.

‘I travelled too far to go back empty handed. I need you Anika.’ Sophie said stubbornly barely meeting her sister’s gaze.

‘You idiot!’ Anika snapped. ‘You selfish fool, do you think of no one but yourself? You, you were the reason I had to leave. Now be gone. Ge out. Leave.’

Tears pricked at Sophie’s eyes. She wretched her arm free of Anika’s clutch. ‘I can’t. Not alone. You have to come home, please.’

‘I am home. This is my home, Sophie.’

‘No,’ Sophie said shaking her head. ‘No, this isn’t home. Home is Chesico, where we grew up.’

‘What do you know of home? What do you remember of our house? Can you recall its colour? The warm sunshine yellow with its green and white trim? Can you remember our mother as she picked flowers in the garden? Or the way she smiled at us?’

Sophie recoiled at the bitter voice. ‘Chesico is more than just a house. The city is huge, far bigger than Dawn City. There is plenty of work to be found there, good work.’

‘I have a job. I work the rig. What do you do Sophie? What have you ever done?’

‘I am a charmer.’

‘Unstable work.’

‘Georges hired me, from a town filled with charmers,’ Sophie retorted. ‘I can get work, I can help to make our life together good. Our family…’

Anika’s eyes darkened. ‘We have no family. They are gone.’ Her voice was cold, flat.

Sophie flinched. ‘Our father might return. He wouldn’t know where to find us if we stayed here.’

‘He doesn’t deserve to find us,’ Anika shouted. ‘He can take his gin soaked hide to the Abyss for all it matters.’

‘Anika, you can’t mean that. He is our father. He is family.’

‘He is a pathetic coward, using grief as a reason to run away. He deserves nothing,’ she spat. Heat coloured her cheeks as Anika glared at Sophie. ‘You are not wanted here. Leave now and never come back.’

‘You can’t mean that, Anika. You can’t. You are my sister. You are my life. You are everything to me. I love you. Always. I would do anything for you, please don’t make me leave.’

‘You are nothing but a weight around my shoulders, dragging me down, preventing me from living my life. Go back, Sophie. Take your silly charms and pathetic dreams and return to Chesico. You are not wanted.’ Anika pushed past Sophie, knocking her sister to the side with enough force to cause her to stumble.

No one in the camp came as Sophie sobbed to herself. The world had cracked leaving Sophie broken upon its bones. She huddled into herself as the tears dampened the earth around her. What was she to do now?

Drying her eyes, Sophie looked around. She could see people moving between the tents. The smell of sausages and beans wafted from a fire. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. It pushed her from the ground and towards people. She didn’t see Anika amongst the half dozen workers milling around the fire. Akram stood when he spotted her. He looked back, towards the cabin. Sophie couldn’t tell if there was someone present or not. However, whatever Akram saw he stood and came towards her.

‘I will show you to your tent.’

‘Thank you. I don’t…’

‘There is food if you are hungry. We will start tomorrow morning.’

‘Start what?’

‘The Gold Charm, Georges wants you to learn it as quickly as possible.’

‘But Anika…’

‘Anika is a mechanists, good at her job, but not owner of the claim. Georges wants the charm performed as soon as possible. You should probably get some sleep,’ Akram added lifting the canvass flap and nodding towards the narrow cot inside. Her bags had already been brought in.

‘I am sorry,’ Akram said as she shuffled past.

*

The pounding was steady, though every so often it was accentuated by a louder explosion. The thunderous noise sent Sophie’s heart racing. In the bleary moments between sleep and waking Sophie wondered if she was under attack. The truth settled around her like a scratchy wool blanket, familiar and unwelcome. She wished she could erase the previous day. Only, how would that change anything? She lay there, still tired and uncertain and waited. Outside, voices drifted through the canvass walls.

‘I didn’t even know she had a sister!’

‘Can you imagine being related to her? I almost feel sorry for the girl.’

‘I wouldn’t say that around her.’

‘I am not afraid of Anika.’

‘I am not saying it is fear. I just have a healthy respect for her. She hasn’t been here a full season and already she is lead mechanist on the day shift.’

‘Think she will talk to her sister?’

They were talking about her as though she were a curiosity. Sophie held still on the bed. It was lumpy and uncomfortable. Something dug into her side. She remained motionless as the words drifted through the canvass.

‘Anika? You are crazy. She doesn’t forgive. You remember Willis?’

‘The metal worker that was here at the beginning of the season? He went home. Didn’t like the wilderness. Too many bears or wolves or something.’

From the crack in the flap of the tent, Sophie could tell it was light out. That did not help to narrow down the time, not in the summer of the north.

‘He had a disagreement with Anika, something related to the rig. Well Anika said one thing and Willis said another. Anika stayed and Willis is barely a memory. Lesson: don’t cross Anika. You can’t expect her to forgive and forget.’

‘Yah but the girl is her sister. That ought to count for something.’

Sophie could almost hear the shrug of the second speaker as she lay in bed. The misery of the previous day sloshed over her with their words. Unwanted, the word ricocheted around her head. The last remnant of her family had turned her back and walked away: left just as everyone else had left Sophie. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. Lying on her back, Sophie tossed an arm over her face. It didn’t stop the tears, but the sleeve helped to mop up the moisture.P1030973

‘Then it is good Anika is onboard for the charm. I thought she was going to oppose it.’

‘Georges won’t take the girl back to town until the charm is performed.’

‘No way!’

‘That is why we have to do it soon.’

‘You think the it will work?’

‘Instantly? Like magic? Nah, of course not. You have been listening to too many fireside stories.’

‘But Georges…’

They were charmers, Sophie thought dully. She didn’t recognize their voices. Where they strangers or had she forgotten those she just met yesterday?

‘Look I won’t speak ill of the boss, not while he is paying my wage, but he isn’t a charmer. Gold isn’t going to come pouring out of the ground. Charms are powerful, but instantaneous.’

‘They also take practice and effort to perform,’ a new voice added. Sophie recognized Akram’s clipped voice. ‘Which you are supposed to be doing.’

‘I thought we were waiting for the girl.’

‘Is she not up?’

‘She hasn’t come out yet.’

‘Have you bothered to see if she is awake? No, never mind, I will do it myself.’

The front flap was swept aside as the figure entered. It took a few moments for the dark silhouette to resolve itself into Akram. The man impatiently brushed a lock of dark, wavy hair from his face. ‘Good. You are awake. Georges wants you to learn the charm as quickly as you can. It is summer and he is eager to reap the most benefit from our labour.’

‘I thought Anika wanted me out of camp as fast as possible.’

‘Anika may want any number of things, but she is not the holder of this claim. Until then Georges is boss and his words are the ones we follow. Otherwise we don’t earn our pay.’ She heard the small sigh as he took another step forward. Softening his voice, Akram offered her a tin plate with steaming food. ‘I brought you some breakfast. There is water in the bucket there. When you are ready come out, we will start going over the words of the charm and their intent.’

When she didn’t reach out for it, Akram set the plate on a folding stool. Next to one of the stool’s legs he placed a cup of tea. ‘It is not much advice, but you should try not to listen to gossip. It never does anyone any good.’

‘Thanks,’ Sophie muttered, but he had already slipped beyond the confines of the tent.

The oatmeal was thick and filling. The tea was hot and bitter. It was not the best meal Sophie had eaten, but it wasn’t the worst either. She splashed some water on her face and pulled a new dress from her bag: something less dusty.

Unsurprisingly, the sun was high overhead when she finally emerged. The sentries who had been standing next to the tent had wandered off. Sophie wondered where she was expected to go when she spotted the familiar figure. The dirty brown trousers were the same ones Anika wore yesterday, though the top was clearly different. Sophie watched her sister move commandingly through camp before heading towards the rig.

Maybe she should try talking to her, maybe…

Anika glanced at Sophie before looking pointedly away. Maybe she should give Anika some space. Tomorrow, she might try talking to her sister.

‘Sophie?’ The female was tiny and delicate in appearance. She wore a bright red patterned top over her ubiquitous brown trousers. ‘If you would follow me.’

They didn’t go far. There was a tent on the other side of the cabin. It was bigger than most of the rest. Inside benches were set in a semicircle. There was a table to one side. The setup suggested a primitive office.

Akram nodded from where he sat. ‘Thanks Joss. Now, Sophie, about the Gold Charm, I am going to teach you the words of the song. We will practice here until you are ready.’

P1030943Sophie settled down on a bench. She tried to focus on the words Akram was speaking, words that described gold and blood. Her mind wandered to Anika. What was her sister doing now? Would she see her at dinner? Would they talk then?

‘Sophie!’ Akram snapped. ‘Pay attention, you need to learn this.’

‘Sorry,’ she muttered.

Across the tent the other woman snickered. Sophie scowled at her.

‘Oh, taking a page out of your sister’s book?’ Joss laughed. ‘Now we will have two ugly faces to avoid.’

‘You know nothing about it,’ Sophie hissed.

‘Do you really think you are the first person to be disappointed by family? How adorably childish. There is nothing special about either you or Anika.’

‘Joss,’ Akram drew out the name in one long slow syllable.

The woman rolled her eyes. ‘Do you hope to play the chivalrous knight? Because you know it isn’t going to end well.’

‘Perhaps you should leave.’

Joss rose to her feet in one liquid motion. ‘Try not to get attached, she isn’t staying for long.’

‘This is a mess,’ Sophie moaned as flap fell back into place. ‘How could she be like that? This isn’t my sister. Anika isn’t like that.’

‘Sometimes we change,’ Akram said softly. ‘Sometimes people are not who we thought they were. You can’t change them and remold them. People don’t work like gold or wood, molded and carved into the shapes we want.’ His fingers plucked at the charm bracelet on her wrist. The movement of his hands caused his own charms to clink musically together. ‘What is this?’ he asked plucking at the star and thread charm.

‘I made it to find my sister,’ Sophie said between nearly silent sobs. ‘The blue thread represents Anika and the red one is me. We both have the same star.’

‘It brought you here?’

‘I was so desperate to find Anika. Only she doesn’t want me.’

‘We all grow up eventually.’ Akram held up a hand silencing her protests. ‘We are not statues, unmoving and still. We all change with time, in ways we cannot predict. Anika may not be the person you thought you knew. Maybe that means it is time for you to find your own path. Maybe it is time you also changed.’

‘I should just give up on my sister? No, I can’t. I won’t. She is all the family I have left.’

‘You can’t force her,’ Akram held Sophie’s gaze. ‘You can’t shape her into something different.’

‘I can’t give up on her, not ever.’

Akram shrugged and returned to the Gold Charm.

She could feel their eyes on her as she moved around camp. Only Anika would not look her way. Every time she tried to approach her sister, Anika had worked her way somewhere else. Eventually she gave up and retreated to her tent.

She lay there trying to come up with ways of getting Anika home. Outside, workers and charmers talked and laughed. Their words smeared together becoming a babble of background noise.

The night shift continued: a steady beat of metal teeth biting into rock. The chug of the rig’s engine never died. Eventually the sun receded below the horizon and the skies dimmed to grey. In those hours, when the world was the bleakest, Sophie knew she was done. She had to leave. She would perform the charm and return to Chesico. She didn’t know exactly what she would do there, but Chesico was familiar. It was home.

The Breaker Rig – Part 2

This past weekend we enjoyed unseasonably warm temperatures. Even with cloud and rain, we saw highs into the teens. It helped to melt more of those final stubborn piles of snow. More importantly, it afforded me the opportunity to air out my bedding! However, Monday rolled around, the temperature plummeted and now I am back to my normal state of being cold. As it is only the middle of February, I am not complaining – just noting the facts.

Anyway, back to the short story ~

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

‘No Tammerik. No Tams. No Tarrek. No Timmins. No Tannik.’ The woman’s voice droned on the edge of irritation.

‘Could she be listed under her first name?’ Sophie suggested.

‘Look girl, I don’t know why you have come to Dawn City and I truthfully don’t care. It doesn’t matter if you are chasing your sister, your father or your own shadow. Unless you want to submit paperwork for claim or retrieve paperwork regarding a claim, then you need to leave.’

‘But I don’t know where else to go.’

The woman shrugged. Long fingers shuffled sheets of paper on the long counter. The nameplate on the counter read Ms. Weatherstone, but Sophie wasn’t sure that referred to the woman scowling in front of her or another employee of the Territorial Claims Office. The clerk sighed, ‘Look girl…’

‘Sophie, my name is Sophie.’

‘Irrelevant. Our job is to maintain records of the claims, active and closed, for the government. We work with the owners of each outfit, who pay to submit their paperwork…’

‘I don’t have any money,’ Sophie interjected.

P1040428‘…not with the workers.’ The woman’s deepening frown was the only indication she heard Sophie’s comment. ‘You could have an entire clan of Thaines out there and we would never know. Have you tried to walk those streets? It is not my job to keep track of every weed that blows through here. You want to know about a specific person, try the bank. Most people keep an account with them: some to save their gold but most to withdraw more than they have.’

‘I have!’ Sophie wailed barely resisting the impulse to stamp her feet on the wide plank floor. ‘I have been to the bank, the post office and to every hotel and boarding house I could find. I spoke with the station master for the air-carriage and the ships master handling the river boats. I have run out of places to go.’

‘Then go home and accept that you sister ran off elsewhere.’

‘She didn’t! Anika wouldn’t do that to me. Anika is my sister, she is…’

‘She is family and most families are jerks.’

‘Families are special,’ Sophie whispered.

‘You can tell yourself that all you want. But either she lied to you and didn’t come here, or she is working a claim.’

‘How do I search the claims?’

‘Ha ha! You are serious? There are hundreds of claims set into the hills around Dawn City.’ Ms. Weatherstone leaned over the counter to look down on Sophie. ‘It would take you more than a year to search each one and that’s only accounting the official ones. Besides changing owners and going bankrupt means the workers drift from one claim to the next like fluff in the wind.’

The door opened to the chime of a small brass bell. Ms. Weatherstone straightened behind the desk surreptitiously smoothing the fabric of her green striped vest. A faint smile started to bloom but died as heavy boots pounded atop the floor boards.

‘Georges,’ Ms. Weatherstone said in the same flat voice with which Sophie was growing accustomed. ‘The answer is the same as last week. I cannot grant you rights to the claim. Only Mr. Mitchel has that authority and he will not be back in town for two months.’

‘Penny,’ the man boomed, the gap between his front teeth obvious as he favoured the clerk with a wide smile. Removing his battered hat revealed a mat of dull brown hair flecked with grey. It hung in limp chunks framing his square face. ‘Penny, it is always a treat to see you. And entertaining a guest,’ he added spotting Sophie. Dark, thoughtful eyes scrutinized her from head to toe. Sophie tried to summon a smile and a greeting, but the words became lodged in her throat. She flashed one last desperate look at Ms. Weatherstone, but the clerk had drawn forth papers and was busy trying to appear occupied. Dismissed and frustrated, Sophie left the Claims Office.

What was she going to do now? It would take ages to search all the claims according to the clerk and the woman ought to know. She had an awful detailed map spread across her counter with countless tiny markers. Dawn City was little more than a couple of dots. Sophie would need transport from town to the claims, but she couldn’t ride and she certainly couldn’t afford anything better than a new pair of sturdy shoes.

She was running dangerously low on funds. Barely in town three days and already her small savings had nearly run out. If only Anika hadn’t been so thorough in selling off anything of value. While Sophie appreciated the cost of travelling north, Anika had taken most of what they had collected.

‘Watch out!’

The shout jerked Sophie out her reverie in time to side step an over full wagon. Wooden poles and bits of canvas stuck out from the vehicle’s box. Sophie

a step to avoid crashing into another pedestrian. She moved over to the edge of the street and looked around to gather her bearings. Across the street was a saloon. The ridiculous half doors would have been appropriate to a small desert town in the south. Raucous shouts of laughter spilled from the dark interior. To the right was a grocery and to the left was a blacksmith. Neither establishment was of any use to Sophie. On her side of the street was a small book shop, a ladies clothing store and directly in front of her a Charm Shop.

The sign above the store depicted the symbol of the star and crescent moon. Replicas of sturdy, neat homes, of ships and tools in different sizes hung in the wide glass window. Drawn as a moth to a flame, Sophie entered the butter yellow building.

All around her were everyday objects like spoons, small knives, books and coins. There were more exotic objects such as steamer ships, surveying tools, and unfamiliar animals. Some were decorated with lines etched in flat disks or coloured beads of different shapes. Many of the objects were cleverly crafted from gold and silver, small delicate work with thin loops to be attached to bracelets. Others had been made with thread, bone or wood. These larger scale designs were better suited for the home or aboard a ship.

Next to the cashier was a barrel of lumpy golden blobs. A small sign read, Gold Nuggets – call the gold from the earth to your hand. As she moved around the space, Sophie listened to the faint sound of singing that came from somewhere deep within the building. It was comforting in its familiarity.

A back door opened. A middle-aged man walked out. He was neatly dressed in a striped shirt and dark trousers. Silver charms hung from his wrists. A pair of oddly designed glasses rested on his nose. The right lens was larger, longer and blue. The left lens was tinted red. He smiled brightly at the only customer in his shop.

‘How might I assist the young Miss this morning?’ he asked pleasantly. As he stepped around the counter Sophie saw he wore a wide belt with various tools strapped to it.

‘You have lovely charms.’

‘I sell the strongest, most potent charms in all of the North. The gold ones in particular are exceptionally powerful. The gold is mined locally, so I get it before it has been handled by many people. It is shaped and designed with one purpose to ensure a superior quality. It holds the song longer than any other charm you can purchase. They are an incredible bargain.’

‘I understood that the processing of the materials was just as important preparation for the charm to hold. Do you not need the gold to be properly worked before it can be made to hold a design and song?’

‘Ah, so you are familiar with the basics of charm theory, young lady? Yes, the gold must be melted and purified during which the proper songs need to be sung to prime the metal for charm work. However, the fewer hands that touch the metal, the fewer imprints are left on it. Virgin gold, taken from the body of the earth herself is pure, unaltered by old songs and charms. With only a few people involved in its processing, that native strength is retained.’

‘So you argue the strength of the charm is directly related to the amount of contact that material has experienced prior to charm formation?’

‘It is not an argument but the truth. I have seen with my own eyes the superior handling of natively mined gold.’

‘I understood recent research has shown the quality of the charm is proportional to the strength and skill of the charmer, not the materials they use.’

‘Then the researchers have not seen the work I do here. Come, choose a piece and you will see for yourself the incomparable affect it has on your life. This here is a charm of fortune,’ he added with an appraising look at the drab, tired dress that hung awkwardly from Sophie’s frame. The blue dress had once belonged to Anika and had been a favourite of hers until she had outgrown it.

‘It is very pretty,’ Sophie said. ‘You must need many employees to maintain this quality and quantity of merchandise.’

‘I hire only the very best charmers.’

P1040264‘I am well educated. I trained closely with Reverend Hong back in Chesico City.’

‘Another city charmer come to the north.’ The shop keeper’s demeanor dimmed. ‘I am sure you were very good at whatever little charms you practiced down south. However, I have a full staff and even more charmers waiting for those positions. I do not lack for employees.’

‘I have excellent training,’ Sophie rushed. ‘I could demonstrate for you now, if you would like? I could show you any type of charm. I know them all.’

‘All?’ he said skeptically. ‘You have no experience with the mechanicals. Machines, some at least, don’t take kindly to charms. They need an expert hand. Besides, as you can see, I have a shop full of charms for sale, no need for another charmer.’

‘But…’

‘This is a shop,’ the man said firmly. His brown eyes darkened. ‘I do not run a charity.’

She turned away. The slow trudge back to Patal’s Palace seemed far longer than the three blocks she had to go. Upstairs in her tiny room, Sophie looked at her pathetic assemblage of belongings. She had nearly nothing. There was nothing to trade for more time in the boarding house. She was a trained Charmer but couldn’t get work here. She still couldn’t find her sister.

Sophie fingered the charms on her bracelet. Her fingers traced the two interwoven stars, the charm their mother had given both of them. Twin stars for two sisters, she had said. At least, that was what Anika always told her. Sophie didn’t remember their mother. She had only vague recollections of their father. Anika was her family. Anika was her whole world.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, Sophie’s wandering mind lit upon the only remaining solution. She was a charmer. Perhaps she could use that to find her sister. It was a ridiculous idea of course. Charms couldn’t do anything so active, so immediate. Charms were the physical manifestation of positive thoughts; they were wishes more than anything else.

Need was a powerful motivator. Sophie looked at the hem of her blue dress. She remembered exactly how Anika had looked in the dress: tall, powerful, capable. Worrying about the hem, Sophie removed a long blue thread. She then rummaged through her bag for a faded red handkerchief. It was all that remained of the red shirt Sophie had destroyed through constant wear. It took time to remove a red thread of similar size.

Sophie twisted the threads together. The charm was a physical manifestation of what she wanted; like to like was the philosophy. She joined the threads, as she wanted to be joined once more to her sister. As she worked, Sophie sang. She sang about family, about finding lost people and about the strength of bonds. She worked the thread into the twin star charm on her bracelet and pictured the other end extending to Anika’s matching metal charm. She sang and thought and wished until the sun slipped below the horizon and sleep put an end to Sophie’s thoughts.

*

The room was stuffy when she woke the next morning. Not for the first time, Sophie wished she could open the window and capture whatever faint breeze stirred outside.

She moved slowly. Her body ached from an indifferent night. Sleep had come but had been far from restful. Fatigue and worry still pulled at her. She woke with no brilliant plan, just the steady resolution to do whatever it took to find Anika. After splashing tepid water on her face, Sophie collected grabbed her bags. Methodically, she removed every copper she had carefully saved and hid.

‘I have seventeen coppers,’ she informed the room. ‘I will need twelve to return to Chesico, and that is assuming we skip some meals. This room,’ she frowned as she said the words. ‘Will cost another seven coppers to keep for another week. I simply don’t have enough.’

Sophie blew the air out of her lungs in one explosive breath. ‘How am I going to find Anika in the next three days? I have exhausted every lead in town and outside…well, the clerk laughed at me.’

She surveyed the scraps of her life; everything could fit in two bags. ‘Is there anything I could sell?’ She had a broach and silver spoon. Both items had been given to her by her mother. Sophie wasn’t certain how much they were worth, but they must have some value.

Sitting back on her heels, Sophie’s fingers moved to her bracelet. The star charm seemed to glow in the morning light as she moved her wrist. ‘Once we are back in Chesico we will find jobs. That is not an issue. The problem is still finding Anika. That is all I have to do.’

It was one small, impossible task that had to be completed in the next three days. Sophie repacked her bags. She put the things she thought she would need to search the claims in the small sack.

‘What if Anika wasn’t able to come into town?’ she asked the room. ‘What if she wanted to come but couldn’t? Perhaps she has been injured. Maybe she is being kept hostage.’ She would come otherwise. Even though her sister did know Sophie was coming north. Anika wouldn’t want to be isolated from civilization. Unless something prevented her, she would be known in town. Sophie’s stomach tightened with anxiety.

She had to find Anika and she couldn’t do that from the floor of her tiny rented room. Sophie piled some clothes into the smaller of the two bags and stuffed everything else into the larger. She would walk to each claim if she had to; she would find her sister.

The dining room was empty when Sophie made her way down. There were dirty dishes stacked in a metal tub at one end of the table. On the sideboard were a few scraps of toast, some rubbery scrambled eggs and three biscuits. Sophie wrapped the biscuits in a handkerchief and stuffed them into her small bag. She slathered strawberry preserve on the toast and drank the bitter, cold tea remaining in the pot.

She then walked out of the boarding house and straight into a man.

‘Oh!’ Sophie gasped as she rocked backwards and came down hard on her bottom.

The man grunted and peered down at her from beneath a wide-brim hat. There was something very familiar about the square head and gap-tooth smile that he favoured her as he stuck out his hand. Sophie eyed him warily as she accepted his help. On her feet, she did the best she could to brush the pale brown dust from her skirts. It was almost impossible, she thought, to stay clean here.

‘Are you Tammerik?’

Sophie frowned at the man. ‘Do I know you?’ she asked warily.

‘I am looking for Tammerik, a Sophia Tammerik.’

‘It’s Sophie. No one calls me Sophia except… Did Anika send you?’

The man’s smile deepened. ‘I heard Anika’s little sister was a charmer. You are Sophia, er Sophie? You look similar to your sister. It is the eyes, I think.’

‘Who are you? You know Anika? Anika Tammerik? You know my sister? Where is she? Is she alright? Can you take me to her?’ The questions poured from Sophie’s mouth like water over a falls. She could no more stop them than dam a river with her bare hands.

‘Aye, I know you sister. I know where she is. I can even take you to her, if you want.’

‘Of course it is what I want. It is the only reason I came here. Oh thank the Maker. I thought I would never find Anika.’

Sophie tilted her head up to observe the man. He had dark eyes, half hidden by the shadow cast from his hat. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. His boots, like everything else about him, were tired and falling apart. He looked like so many of the miners Sophie had seen in town. The only thing that was really different was the thoughtful glint to his eyes. They looked at her speculatively.

‘You are a charmer?’ he asked slowly.

‘Yes, yes, I am a charmer.’ A successful one, Sophie added silently. I sang a charm to find my sister and here you stand ready to complete my wish. ‘Is Anika far from here? Can we leave immediately?’

‘I heard you are church trained?’

‘I studied under Reverend Hong back in Chesico. Though I doubt that means anything to you.’ Sophie’s brow furrowed. ‘I know! You are the man from the Claims Office yesterday. Why didn’t you say anything at the time?’

The man smiled down at her. ‘The name is Georges. I didn’t recognize you at first. I was distracted by my own business.’

‘Is Anika safe? Will it take us long to get to her?’

‘We will get there, all in good time. First though, I am going to need something from you.’

‘What do you want?’ Sophie took half a step backwards. ‘You do know my sister?’

‘Oh, I know Anika. She works for me, on my claim. Works the rig. What I need now, however, is a charmer. That would be you.’

‘What will I have to do?’

‘I need you to do a charm for me, once we get back to the claim. You do that and I will take you to your sister.’

‘You are offering me a job in exchange for bringing me to Anika?’ Sophie couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice. Yesterday had appeared so bleak. Today she was going to have her sister back. The job was a nice twist of fate, not that she wanted it. Still, one charm in exchange for Anika, the fates favoured her today.

P1040334‘That about sums it up.’

‘I will get to see Anika.’

‘Today, if you are ready to leave.’

‘Yes, I am ready.

Georges stared down at the small bag flopped over in the dirt. ‘You have anything else?’

‘What do I need?’

‘You should bring what you have. Wouldn’t want to leave anything around here unattended. You don’t know where it will end up. Food and lodgings you will get at camp, everything else is your responsibility.’

‘I am to live on your claim?’

‘That is how it works. The claim isn’t that close to town. All the workers, both the mechanists and charmers, stay there, expect for their time off.’

‘You have other charmers?’ She felt rather sad about that. Not that she was planning on staying anyway.

‘I need a lot for the charm I am going to perform, six to be exact. The other five are already working at the claim.’

‘Six is a powerful number,’ Sophie observed thoughtfully.

‘This will be a powerful charm,’ Georges replied. ‘I will get the wagon, while you collect your belongs.’