Wings of Sorrow and Bone by Beth Cato

chimera would certainly go for Mr. Cody and his men if they came within range. She knew that by the tension in his muscles and metal limbs.
    â€œMiss Stout, that’s not some pet. Miss Garret, don’t move a muscle, or it may try to roll and crush you. Neither of you are Miss Leander. You don’t have her incredible power. Your delusions will get you killed.” He motioned to his men. “Ready tranquilizers. We need to rescue these flibbertigibbets.”
    Rivka thought fast. She had to show Mr. Cody that they were in control of the situation and most certainly not in need of rescuing. “Lump, follow my example. Wave hello to Mr. Cody. Like this.”
    Lump angled his head to watch her, black eyes blinking, then mimicked her motion with his own right arm. The copper hand had three fingers, the tips featuring deep gaps where claws or other devices could be installed.
    â€œNow do this.” Rivka stomped her left foot. Lump did the same, taking care not to bring his foot too near her. The ground shuddered from his impact. A low, quiet squeak escaped from Tatiana as she clutched the wing nubs for dear life.
    â€œHold, men.” Mr. Cody gawked at them. “You, how . . . ?”
    â€œLet’s show him a Frengian peasant dance, Lump!” Rivka said loudly, then whispered, “Tatiana, don’t you dare fall off.”
    Rivka was a wretched dancer, but that didn’t matter now. She knew the moves from Mama, sure as she knew any recipe. She angled up her arms and kicked out her right leg, as much as the skirt allowed, and pointed her toe, then did the other leg. Her knee-­high boots peeked from beneath her petticoat. She didn’t want to hop around and get squashed by accident, so instead she bent to one side, then the other. More kicks, these at a diagonal as she pointed the toe as if at the quarter-­hour notches of a clock.
    Lump’s big claws scraped the stones as he struggled to lift his feet. A rumble of agony escaped him, and Rivka felt a lurch of guilt. She bowed to each side, undulating her arms, and ended with a curtsy. Lump mirrored her, copper arm curled as if he held a skirt in his broad hand.
    All was silent for a long moment. Mr. Cody and the other men stared. It was Broderick who started clapping. The others joined in, slowly, as grins crept across their faces. Mr. Cody looked downright exuberant as he stepped up to the disengaged circle. Rivka heard Lump’s swift inhalation, but he didn’t budge.
    Mr. Cody shook his head, dazed. “How did you achieve this? From my research, I surmised that Miss Leander had some insight through her magic, but that’s not possible for you.”
    We did this by being kind, Rivka wanted to say, but she knew that would mean nothing to Mr. Cody.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter how. Look. I can ride this chimera,” said Tatiana. She had her arms crossed over her chest and gripped Lump by her legs alone. Show-­off.
    â€œYour mother would have me skinned alive if I let you ride.”
    â€œI’d be even more worried about Alonzo finding out. He’s much more familiar with the risks of the Arena, and he tends to be rather protective. But they don’t need to know.” Tatiana’s grin was tight. “Keep me a secret. Just advertise that you’ll have the Arena’s first female jockey on your new chimera. That will get you all the publicity you want, right?”
    â€œYes,” he said slowly. “The press would create itself. But after your mother moves here—­”
    â€œThat doesn’t matter yet. She won’t be here until after the bout.”
    Tatiana and Mr. Cody stared at each other, assessing. In the quiet, chirps of gremlins carried from the far room. Lump made a loud mew, as if part of their conversation. Rivka looked between the bold brass structure of Lump’s arms and legs, then to the distant doorway.
    â€œMr. Cody,” Rivka said. “I’d