The Guild Conspiracy Read Online Free PDF Page B

was small, hardly ten feet square. Several stacks of crates lined the walls, and a small desk sat in the corner, covered in papers, pencils, and other drafting utensils.
    Rupert hopped down from the lift and Petra followed, the room ripe with the smell of grease, burning coal, and hot metal. The thrum of the subcity pulsed like a heartbeat through the floor, engines roaring, the click of cranks and rhythmic thrust of pistons singing beyond the walls. Whispers of steam hissed musically through the network of pipes beyond the blocked doorway. The opening was stacked high with sections of tarnished machinery.
    Rupert gestured to the room at large. “Well? Do you like it?”
    She laid her hand on the desk, brushing her fingers over the bulky mechanical calculator and measuring tools, the smooth drafting paper, and the polished wood surface. An electric thrill tingled up her arm. “It’s perfect.”
    He grinned. “Wait until you see this.”
    Moving to the stack of crates next to the door, he dragged the topmost box from the column and carefully lowered it to the floor. With a crack, the lid pried loose, and he rummaged through the crinkled paper packing. “Help me with this, will you? It’s heavy.”
    Petra hurried to the other side of the crate and reached into the box. Her fingers met cool metal, a rounded joint roughly welded together by thick soldering lines. She positioned her hands around it, and then, on a count of three, she and Rupert hauled the ruined mass of machinery out of the crate and onto the floor.
    Petra stepped back and peered at the damaged hulk of metal, absently wiping her hands on her trousers. Charred scraps of dented and twisted brass, bolts and welds torn apart, crumpled linkages and melted gear trains—­the frame so brutally warped it was impossible to tell what it once looked like.
    â€œWell?” said Rupert. “What do you think?”
    She circled the blackened mass of machinery. “What is it?”
    â€œMy mech.”
    Petra arched an eyebrow. “What happened to it?”
    â€œDarrow,” he said darkly. “Did it in with a supercharged blowlamp affixed to his mech’s arm. More like a flamethrower, if you ask me. Melted right through the shell and destroyed the transmission.”
    â€œThat sort of thing is allowed?”
    Rupert nodded. “Oh, yeah. The rules are rather straightforward: don’t tell any of the professors or Guild engineers about the mech fights; no projectile weapons allowed; and mechs can only be constructed of copper, brass, or aluminum—­no steel. Beyond that, last mech standing is the winner. Once you’re in the ring, anything goes.”
    Petra blinked, staring at the misshapen machine at her feet.
    â€œI know it doesn’t look like much,” he said quickly, “but I thought you could use it for base materials. It took a beating there at the end, but the plating can be hammered back into shape, the engine is still good as far as I can tell, and most of what’s left can be reused or refitted.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve and shuffled to the stack of crates again, pulling another down. “I have some loose parts too. Between what’s left of the mech and all this here, you should have enough to build something battle worthy.” He set the crate beside the charred machine with a thud. “And if there’s anything else you need, we can probably get our hands on it. You’d be surprised what we can salvage from the workshops.”
    Petra lifted the lid of the crate of spare parts, filled with unfitted gears, dented cams, and flattened pipe. “Where did you get all of this?”
    â€œI’ve been collecting scraps after workshop lessons and finding busted pieces thrown out from Guild projects; I even traded dorm duties for a few of the harder-­to-­find parts. I wanted to make sure you had what you needed when the