The man who opened the door was like a whirlwind. His keen brown eyes sparkled as they looked her over and found her bag and made their assessment. “Aelia, you’re early! It is Aelia, isn't it? Of course it is, yes. We're not expecting any other young guests with a travel bag. Wonderful, wonderful. Come in, please.”

His enthusiasm was infectious. His hair was speckled with white and his mustache thick but trimmed. She crossed her fingers as she asked, “Mr Lapuss?”

He moved to the side of the doorway and ushered her inside. “Samuel,” he said. “You can call me Samuel. Now come in, come in. I’m just about to test it again, and I’m sure you’ll want to witness!”

"Test...?"

But he didn't answer, just led her inside. The air in the hallway was a mix of metals and smoke, but there was a sweeter scent hidden behind it, of flowers, perhaps.

“Your room is upstairs, second on the left,” said Samuel. “And I’m certain you’ll want to go up soon. But I'm further certain you'll want to come see the test — I saw how your eyes lit up when I mentioned it. Come this way, Aelia.”

She did want to go up, in fact. Collapse into her bed and not move for at least two days. And yet, as the man led her through a hallway that seemed wallpapered with clocks, so many there were (some big and swinging, some with little doors in their top, and some that barely looked like clocks at all) a wisp of energy was returning to her.

There was a clatter of metal in a chamber beyond. A kitchen Aelia guessed, and her stomach rumbled in hopeful agreement. But Samuel led her into a small room before it.

“Welcome to my study,” he said. “Watch your step, Aelia. Please.”

More clocks and watches and various timepieces lined a wide wooden table and filled six shelves nailed onto the wall, and the ticking here was a constant hum with no drop at all for the tocking to come in. It must be like being inside a beehive, she thought, such was the thrum.

A large clock hammered into the rear wall caught her eye as it was made (at least on the outside) entirely of twigs and sticks — even the little hands that rotated around the numerals were twigs. Folded leaves of green and brown decorated it, twined around the swood. If it was in a forest, no one would see it at all.

There were figurines, too, on the table. Knights on horses and archers with bows pulled out. On their backs. Protruding from all their backs were copper keys. She'd seen such things before, but there was much finer craftsmanship here. The painted faces of the fighters looked almost life-like. It was clear Samuel was more than a tinkerer, he was an artist too.

Her mouth dropped open, but not from the figurines or clocks. It was the track that stole her breath: a huge weaving path with little tin sleepers lying across it like some kind of flat ladder. It snaked a full circle around the room, and she had to step over to get into the center.

“What is it?” she said, her eyes following the loop.

“The future,” he said, brows raised, “is not in clocks. At least not my future. Do you hear how they all tick, Aelia?”

“Yes. It’s loud and constant.”

“Exactly!” he said, seeming pleased with her answer. “Constant. That's the thing. They all tick at a different beat and that causes the continuation of the sound. And as good as I am — as brilliant, even — my clocks all wind down eventually, and they all fall a little slower and a little further out of time with their brothers and sisters. This is the curse of every true timepiece.”

“But people could just wind them up again, couldn't they? Set them again, once wound.”

He nodded. “Yes, but they have lost the time. Just slightly, maybe, but one would need to come here, or go to the northern sundial, to reset them accurately.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

This was... strange. She’d only communicated with Mrs Lapuss with her letters, but still, Aelia thought the woman might have mentioned her rather eccentric husband. Perhaps she wouldn't have come here, if she'd known about him (although she most certainly would have). The whole room was strange but it also gave her skin-tingles. “Can’t people just judge by the sun and set the time that way?”

“Ha! The sun? Without an accurate sundial, I doubt the average person could get within two minutes of the time!" He paused, shaking his head, then added scornfully. "Probably not even within three.”

Three minutes out didn’t seem a huge deal to Aelia, but she decided that though was best keep that to herself.

“That’s why I’m getting out of the clock game,” he said. “And into horseless transcog motionechular. That’s the future for me and for the kingdom.”

“Horseless transcog…Uh…”

Samuel bent down to her and whispered, “Just watch.”

There was another electrical shiver down her back.

He grabbed a black rectangle from his desk, each long side complete with three coppery wheels that were pinned loosely into it. He then searched for a moment through a pile of metals on the desk, before he found the key he was after, thrusting it into the horseless wagon’s back.

Click click click.

“Here,” he said. “This will change travel throughout the kingdom. It will help end wars, too. Imagine how fast and reliably we can reinforce.” He crouched down and placed the wagon in the track.

Chug chug chug, it went, as the gears inside it slowly began to work. The wheels turned, first slow, then as a blur, and pushed the wagon along.

She let out a little gasp as it picked up speed and sailed around the room, always on the tracks. She’d seen figurines, like those on the man’s desk, that could do something similar. Stagger a few steps then fall. But this... True, it wasn't anywhere as impressive as the church had been, and yet in its own little way, it was just as magical to watch.

Samuel laughed. “Quite something, isn’t it?”

It reminded her of the horse she’d seen in the town square with the metal leg, only now all the legs were metal and round. “It is,” she agreed. “Children will simply love a toy like this.”

“No!” Samuel snapped, as the train finished its loop and slowed to a crawl. “No. No. No. This is not a toy. This is a demonstration. A model. Imagine something like this that traveled through the kingdom. That a hundred people at a time could be inside.”

Now he sounded crazed and Aelia wondered if this was more of an obsession than it was a good idea. An idea he could ever make a reality.

She nodded politely. “Yes, that would be very practical.”

“Very practical,” he agreed, straightening his mustache out. “Yes, that’s exactly what it would be. Practical. Of course, there would need to be stops regularly where it would be rewound, but I think even those we could automate eventually."

Aelia found that she half-loved the man’s enthusiasm, and half-feared it. Whatever she was feeling, she was grateful when a portly lady with mousey hair pulled back in a tight bun burst in. “I thought I heard you playing with your toy again, Sam,” she said, her voice sharp. “But I didn’t think you’d stolen our guest. Gods, what on earth were you thinking, not making the poor lass feel at home?”

“Oh, er,” he said, his comportment lost. “I…”

“It’s my fault,” Aiela lied. “I asked to see his horseless transcog…”

“Motionechular.”

“Right. Motionechular.”

“Did you ask that, now?” the woman asked suspiciously. Her face turned kindly though and for a moment Aiela thought the lady might laugh.

“I’m Mrs Lapuss, darlin', but you can call me Margo,” she said. “And you must be our new lodger. Aelia, isn’t it?”

Aelia nodded. "Yes."

“What beautiful hair you’ve got, Aelia,” Margo said. “I think you’ll have all the boys on the street after you once they see it. It's like fire, ain't it Sam? Simply radiant.”

She doubted any boy would be after her. Apart from her hair, she had very little going. No money, no job, worn-out clothing, and a rather plain face to boot, she thought.

“You’ve had a very long journey in the caravan, I’m sure,” said Margo. "You must be absolutely exhausted. And I bet you haven't had a good meal in all that time either. So what say we get you food down you and then show you to your room."

“Her journey wouldn’t have been a tenth so long if she'd been traveling in a—”

“I've got a good broth on the hob,” said Margo, shooting her husband a grim stare and at the same time giving Aelia a soft smile. "So you come with me and we'll get you fed and settled."

Aelia was going to like it here, she decided, as she stepped over the track and followed the lady into the kitchen. She was going to like it quite a bit.