The Girl With the Iron Touch by Kady Cross

behavior. She felt this because the head turned toward her, and even though the eyes watching her were glass, she could see a spark of something behind them.
    Awareness.
    Bloody hell, this was not good.
    “Why am I here?” Emily demanded of the… thing. She had no idea what to call it, but she knew not to underestimate it.
    It clicked and clacked toward her, surprisingly nimble. Fast. It was horrifying, but she wasn’t afraid. She was disturbed, perhaps even disgusted by it. It was no longer in its original design. Someone or something had modified it.
    “You are here because you are needed,” it replied. Its speech was slightly halting and a little rough, sounding as though it came from the bottom of a metal drum. “You are awake and dressed. You will come with me.”
    It was only when Emily opened her mouth to respond that she realized the machine had not spoken to her in English. It had spoken to her in a chittering, clicking manner, that somehow she understood.
    She didn’t attempt to respond in the same language, however. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Not until I know why I was taken from my home and am being treated like a prisoner.”
    The doll head cocked to one side—disconcerting. “You are a guest.”
    “Guests aren’t coshed over the head and locked up in a dirty cell.”
    “This is all there is. The door is locked to protect you, protect us. You will come with me now, please?”
    So it had some manners. That didn’t make her feel any better than realizing she understood it had. “No.”
    One of the long legs reached out, the pincers at the end grabbing at her arm. Emily wrapped her fingers around it, reached deep down inside herself and called up her talent.
    “What…what are you doing?” the spider demanded, its many limbs pumping and twitching as she forced her will upon it.
    It was like she melded with the metal. Its energy flowed from metal to her skin, along her nerves to her brain, where something was able to process it all into information she could understand. Her skin tingled and her blood rushed through her veins, roaring in her ears. It was like being on the back of Sam’s velocycle when he used to take her for drives and go as fast as the machine would move. She could almost feel the wind in her hair. It was exhilarating.
    “You’re going to let me go,” Emily informed the metal monster. “You are going to lead me out of here and let me go home. Understood?”
    “Yes. No. That is not my mission.”
    “What is your mission?”
    “I will not tell you. You cannot make me!”
    The thing had her there. She was pushing her mind against it as hard as she could, but it was like trying to shove her brain out her nose. Even more worrisome was just how flimsy her hold on the ugly thing really was. If it was just a machine she could control it, but it was sentient and had free will.
    It fought back. The pounding in her head and nausea in her stomach intensified, but she pushed harder. So did the machine.
    A stab of pain exploded behind her eyes, white-hot and sharp, like being stabbed with a blade fresh from the forge.
    She released the metal appendage, dropping her attempt at control like a hot iron. Immediately, the pain in her head lessened.
    The doll head couldn’t change its painted smile, but there was wariness in the eyes. She knew the feeling. Griffin’s aunt Cordelia was a telepath. She’d dipped into Emily’s brain once and never did again. Emily’s reaction to the violation had been…indignant rage was probably the best description. She doubted Cordelia had felt the same sort of pain.
    “Come with me.”
    Said the spider to the fly, Emily thought, massaging her forehead with her fingers. She followed after the skittering creature without argument. There might be a chance to escape, and at the very least she’d be able to better study her surroundings and get an idea of where she was. Once she knew that, she could figure out the best way to escape—or to get