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think you were making those kinds of things out here."

Karl was dismayed at how completely he'd put Loretta's normal work out of his mind. Reality lodged there now like a sharp rock in his shoe.

"No, I haven't been," she said. "I still think it would be fine if we tried it. These are things I Built before my gyro-compass got broken. I could sell the jewelry and such we've been Building lately. There's a good market for that, too. People with the most horrifying collections usually want to show off with the normal things they have and gifts they give."

"What were you thinking?" Karl said. "Leave during the day and come back? Will that be safe with people looking for Rhysto?"

"I'd have to take Bess with me. I doubt many people would put me together with him, besides Mr. Norwood, but we may have to pay him a visit to make sure he keeps his mouth shut. We don't know who Rhysto may have told about where he was going, though, before his little visit that night."

Karl didn't miss her evading part of his question, about her returning at night. If things were calm enough for her to stay at her house, keeping Gemma out in ’ster territory alone didn't make any sense.

But he was already growing too fond of both of them to suggest that.

"I know Bess will watch out for you," he said. "And I know you can take care of yourself. Getting in and out of here is tougher than you think except on the weekends."

Loretta nodded. "We may have to try to schedule several over the weekend to see how it goes. Between that and visiting Mr. Norwood, we'll have a pretty good idea of how things stand in Waldron's Gate."

"And you'll keep your client base happy."

Karl immediately wished he could take that last bit back. He didn't want to start some kind of fight and give her an excuse to leave. Her voice was calm, but her flashing eyes let him know she'd heard him.

"You knew that was the deal with me going in. Are you going to try to tell me you won't be Building anything? If so, there's no real reason for Gemma to finish your Dragon."

"I haven't really thought about that." Karl hoped he could defuse the tension by admitting his lack of planning. "I suppose I can go with whatever they want to Build, within reason."

"I'm not sure it works that way," she said, sounding more curious than angry now. "I think you'll at least have to suggest a starting point. But we'll figure that out when we get there."

"You want to make deliveries tomorrow," Karl said. "Then sneak back in."

She squeezed Karl's hand and moved closer. He put his arm around her, breathing in her scent. It hadn't gotten any less intoxicating with familiarity, any more than her body had. Or her mind.

Getting in over his head with a woman set off the usual alarm bells, but for the first time in his life he managed to ignore them.

"That's what I want," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "If you have stationery, I'll send Bess a note right now. Safer than the talkboxes out here from what you tell me."

"I do. Klia Gilmore would never, ever send one of her children out into the world without a huge supply. Even one as hopeless at using it as me."

Chapter 47

Karl forced himself to stop fidgeting, but the tickling only got worse. He couldn't imagine how the soft leather straps he'd brought so Gemma could make his headgear suddenly felt like they were full of ants. He looked around the room again, focusing on the remarkable transformation since Gemma and Loretta had brought in bright cushions and rugs, curtains, and tablecloths. Even his mother might have believed this was a holiday cottage rather than an abandoned caretaker's house.

"Hold still now," Gemma said. "Or I'll end up cutting this wrong, and we'll have to start over."

She shifted the straps a millimeter at a time, over and over again. Just when he thought he was going to scream from all the adjustments, she made her final cut and took the whole thing off.

"There. Only a few more steps, and it will be ready."

Karl scratched his scalp, doing his best not to groan. Gemma carried the leather to her workbench and started punching holes in it. Karl walked over to the window to avoid peering over her shoulder yet again.

The whole yard was taken up with garden plots, from just outside the door to a safe distance from the fence. Most of the space had tiny green plants springing up, a lovely contrast to the brown of the grasslands beyond.

"It smells so much better in here, Gemma. I wonder if they'd pay you to install the same thing over in the hospital wing."

"I'd be glad to help," she said. "But they'd have to pay me a pretty coin to drag me away from my real work."

Karl wasn't quite sure he understood how she used something as sooty as charcoal to scrub the rotten aroma of the ’sters out of the air inside the house. He appreciated it every time he visited, though. The second combustion chamber for the hearth made a little more sense, but he was still amazed at how the smoke from the constant fire was invisible now.

"So all you have left is this?" he said. "The gyro-compass and the Dragon are finished?"

He walked back over to the table to examine his smaller, sturdier version of the compass. Gemma had explained how she'd reinforced the thin bits of Loretta's that snapped, but he picked it up with extreme care.

"That's all that's left, dear. Well, once you learn to use it, of course, but Loretta will be the one to help with that. Are her deliveries going well this week?"

"She seems quite happy," he said. "So they must be. She's almost caught up and through what we had here as

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