Flashback ( PDFDrive )

of weather vane. The third might’ve been an anemometer, and the
fourth was most likely a rain gauge. The last she couldn’t begin to
guess—all she knew was that it was shiny and spinning very fast.
And then there were the pipes.
So. Many. Pipes.
Gleaming in copper, silver, gold, brass, and steel.
Some jutted from the roof of the main building at varying heights
and angles, unleashing curls of thick white steam into the chilly sky.
Others snaked down the sides of the tower and tunneled into the dark
earth—or crawled into the thicket of evergreens and coiled around the
massive trees—or dived into the white-capped river that roared along
one side of the structure. But most were crowned with widemouthed
funnels and reached out like eager arms toward the misty waterfall
that formed a backdrop to the strange scene.
“The waterfall’s powering everything, isn’t it?” Dex asked,
squinting at a brassy funnel that reminded Sophie of a tuba as it
swallowed a thick stream of frothy water.
“In part,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “From what I understand,
Widgetmoor draws energy from earth, air, and water.”
“Not fire?” Sophie asked.
“Never fire,” he confirmed, pointing to the thinnest pipes, which
scaled to the tops of the trees. One was low enough for her to see
something flat and shiny at the end—a mirror, maybe? Or perhaps a
solar panel?
The latter seemed more likely, when Mr. Forkle added, “Sunlight is
the only source of heat that Tinker allows—and only in small doses.
She prefers the cold.”