Read Online A Clockwork Heart by Liesel Schwarz - Free Book Online

round the servant up from outside. We can add him to this evening’s catch. They can deal with him along with the others at the factory. The Lady will like it if we bring her more than she asks for, I’m sure,” Florica said.
    Emilian nodded and disappeared out the door.
    Florica turned and looked down at Henry. “Now, hold nice and still and this will only hurt a little,” she said.
    â€œPromise me she’ll be better,” Henry wheezed from under her fingers.
    â€œI promise by the Shadow that the strength that lies in your heart will go to hers this very night, and she shall be healed,” Florica said. In that moment her eyes filled with compassion for him. “I am very sorry,” she murmured.
    Henry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Anything to save her—just be quick about it.”
    The last thing he remembered was the sensation of someone unbuttoning his waistcoat, which was also the last thing he felt, before he screamed.
    The Clockmaker sits hunched over, eyes trained on the tiny cogs and gears before him. Around him the walls are alive with faces and pendulums that tick and click and whirr. Carefully, with the measured precision that comes only from years of experience, he lowers a small brass part into the heart of the casing. He raises up the tweezers he holds and caresses the spring as the little piece falls into place. The tiny counterweight pauses, fighting momentum as it strains to slip into motion. And then, soft as breath, the device clicks and comes alive.
    Gently the Clockmaker eases the casing over the finely machined innards and with a deft twist of his screwdriver he tightens the little screws.
    The clockwork heart whirrs and shivers as it lies in his palm. At the center of his little miracle lies a tiny crumb of carmot, no bigger than a grain of sand. No more is needed to give the heart life.
    The Clockmaker smiles. “You will be special,” he murmurs. He lifts a key that hangs from a string around his neck and eases it into the heart. The clockwork heart bucks and starts ticking.
    The Clockmaker smiles again. “Yes, you will be special.”
    Then he lowers the heart into a wooden case that lies before him. The box is already half full with ticking hearts, each one nestled inside a little hollow lined with purple velvet.
    Satisfied, the Clockmaker turns back to this workbench. With infinite patience, he selects a new casing and one by one he selects cogs and springs and eases them into place.
    â€œSpecial,” he murmurs. And the clocks on the wall tick along in applause.

CHAPTER 7
    Elle sat up in bed with a gasp. The sight of the strange woman and the roar of power that flooded through her had upset her more than she cared to admit. She had spent the night wrapped in Shadow nightmares, running through a labyrinth of dark passageways, with the terrible sound of clocks ticking surrounding her.
    It was still dark outside and she could just make out the soft clinking of people at work in the kitchen as the staff readied the house for the day.
    â€œWhat is it?” Marsh mumbled beside her.
    â€œNothing. I think I just felt something shift. It’s probably nothing, but I had better make sure.”
    She slipped out of bed and walked over to a slim brass lever, which was set in the wall next to the mantelpiece. She pulled it and with the sound of carefully greased cogs and gears, a panel slid open to reveal hidden chamber behind the fireplace.
    She lit one of the thick candles that were propped into a series of sconces in the wall. The flickering light revealed the most eye-catching thing about the little room: the circular mosaic floor, set with lapis lazuli, jade, red jasper and onyx.
    Elle looked at the finely inlaid pattern of maidens and ancient symbols with mixed feelings. This was a Delphic circle, the type used by the Oracles to divine and speak. Marsh had built it for her as a gift, so she could attend to her duties as the