CHAPTER 11
“You know the Old Girl?” Rory said from the entrance.
Cruikshank started and turned around, lifting the goggles from her face. They left owl-like circles around her eyes where the skin had been protected from the soot, smoke, and metal shavings. The rest of her face was caked with dirt, which accentuated every line, making her look older than she was. She wore a leather vest and leggings covered with more cuts and lashes than a whipped back. Her curly russet hair was piled high atop her head, making an odd contrast with her dark brown skin.
“Rory! You startled me, lovey. What are you doing here? Come in, come in.”
Cruikshank ushered her into her workshop. It was a single large room dotted throughout with pillars to support the roof. Hooks were welded to them, supporting heav
