Tevun-Krus #10 - TKX: Best of 2014

Touch the Sky: Steampunk

“What in heaven’s name happened to you?”

“It was an accident. It’s nothing.” She put her hands on his desk. “Is Timothy right? Are you going to cut my allowance?”

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sally, you’re going to turn five-and-twenty in less than two months.”

“Exactly! I’m much too old for marriage.”

He ignored her outburst. “It’s time to stop this foolishness—this engineering. It’s dangerous, expensive and wholly unsuitable for young ladies like yourself. Such things are better left to the minds of men.”

Sally opened her mouth to protest, but her father held up his hand.

“You will have your coming out ball on your birthday.”

“I’ve already had my coming out ball—twice.”

“And you did not attend either of them. No, Sally, you will have a proper ball this time, and you will find a decent man who will look after you when I’m gone.”

“I don’t need anyone to look after me, Father. I can take care of myself. Please, don’t do this. I just need a few more months.”

He shook his head and pushed himself up from his heavy mahogany armchair with a grunt. He walked around his desk to put a hand over hers. “Sweetheart, you said that the last three times as well. You have a month to clear out the hangar, put aside the things you want to keep.”

Sally yanked her hands away. “What I want to keep is my ship.”

Her father sighed. “Sally—”

She turned around and stormed out of his study, slamming the door behind her. A month. She would do it in a month, then. The Eagle would fly above the black clouds of soot and smoke that covered over half of the world now. She would make it past the turning point, where all balloons had stopped moving.

She rushed down the grand staircase, to the front door, where their only footman stood waiting in case anyone should call on them—which was not likely to happen anytime soon.

“William,” she called to him, “have the carriage prepared and inform Mr. Harris that I’m going out. I will meet you both outside in ten. And tell Millie I’m going to need her help with my hair.”

“Right away, Miss.” The footman dropped his stiff posture and disappeared down the servants’ stairs to inform the groom.

Half an hour later, Sally stepped out of the carriage in front of the magnificent building owned by Royal Society of Engineers. William closed the carriage door behind her. She smoothed her clean dress, pushed a strand of oil-free hair behind her ear and strode up the marble stairs.

Sally pushed open the large doors, drawing the looks of all the men inside. They were scattered in groups, most leaning back in the comfortable red armchairs that filled the hall, smoke curling from their pipes, their conversation halted. She briefly closed her eyes as she recognised a tall figure standing to the far left. That had to be her luck—coming here on the one day that Richard Trevillian chose to spend outside his laboratory.

Ignoring the gazes that followed her, she walked towards the grand staircase.

A broad footman neared her, placing a hand on her arm. “Miss, I’m afraid you’re not allowed to be here.”

She raised her eyebrows and removed the man’s hand. “Daniels, you know as well as I that that has never stopped me before. I’m here to see Mr. Grant, and before you ask—no, I do not have an appointment. Now, if you please.”