She stepped inside, not sure what to expect. Before her, hidden away in a nondescript one-horse barn off a Perdition Street back alley, was what could only be called a wonderland. All around her, she saw gears and wires and levered machines, all powered by chips of divinity, executed at a level of complexity and skill that she thought only possible to find at the Divinity Expo, where the great minds of the age displayed their inventions. But here was this Fallen boy, no older than twenty-one and a bartender in a saloon, who rivaled their genius.

“Why, Ezekiel Zagan. It’s marvelous.”

He beamed. “I’ve been collecting the divinity for years now, just scrap mostly from the wash, but it’s enough to power my machinery. If I could get my hands on enough, I think, well, I think I could make just about anything!”

“I have no doubt.” She looked around in wonder, her eye catching on a pair of ladies’ earrings lying on a table. Sunflowers dangling from small hoops, shaped from silver, their centers golden divinity.

“It’s a hearing device,” he explained, picking up one of the metal flowers. “It amplifies sound when you wear it next to your ear.”

“And what’s this?” she asked, pointing at a contraption made of winding coils and levers.

“This?” He reached out to turn a wheel on the machine, releasing a steady blast of steam. “This is my coffee maker.”

She laughed at her mistake, and he flushed, clearly abashed.

“Oh, but here…” He threaded his way through the cramped space to the center of the room. “This is my masterpiece.”

He removed a tarp with a showman’s flourish to reveal a cross between a buggy and a bicycle. It took up most of the space in the center of the small barn.

“I call it the mountain trike,” he explained. “It has three wheels, nubbed and spoked for rough terrain. The frame is slung low for balance, and here”—he opened a door in the heart of the contraption—“is the engine.”

She leaned over to look inside and spied the telltale glow of divinity.

“You still have to crank it up, here.” He closed the door and fit a small hand crank into a gear. “But once the initial spark is ignited, the divinity does the real work.”

“It is a wonder,” she said appreciatively. “As good as anything at the exhibit hall on Aventum.”

He pressed his hand over his heart, obviously pleased at her praise. “But you didn’t come to see my contraptions,” he said, face sobering.

“No,” she admitted. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Name it.”

“Mariel and I have been evicted.”

A frown marred his bright features, and he opened his mouth, no doubt ready to protest on her behalf, but she waved him down.