Brass and Bone

This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice. The copper pipes hissed with escaping steam as Evangeline Hartwell tightened the final brass fitting on the atmospheric pressure regulator. Her workshop, tucked beneath the cobblestone streets of New Victorium, thrummed with the steady rhythm of clockwork mechanisms and the gentle whoosh of pneumatic tubes. Oil stains marked her leather apron like badges of honor, and her auburn hair, escaped from its careful morning arrangement, framed her face in wayward curls that caught the amber light of gas lamps. "There," she murmured, wiping her hands on a cloth already stained beyond redemption. "That should maintain proper pressure for the hydraulic lift system." The device before her was her latest commission—a revolutionary elevator mechanism for the newly constructed Meridian Tower, which would soon stand as the tallest building in the district. Unlike the crude steam-powered lifts that dominated the city's architecture, Evangeline's design utilized a sophisticated network of weighted counterbalances and pressurized chambers that could transport passengers smoothly between floors without the jerky, unpredictable movements that left riders queasy and architects nervous. A sharp rap echoed through the workshop, followed by the distinctive three-pause-two pattern that indicated an official visitor. Evangeline frowned, glancing toward the heavy oak door that separated her sanctuary from the bustling street above. Government inspectors rarely visited at this hour, and she had already filed all the necessary permits for her current projects.