Mirrors and Magic: A Steampunk Fairy Tale (The Clockwork Republic Series)

by Katina French

  "Well, I'm an orphan. I guess I'm lucky. Never had trouble finding work."

  At the word "orphan," all seven children seemed to deflate a little. She could practically see the images of a rich reward over their heads in little thought balloons like the funny papers, popping as if struck by a stickpin.

  Toby raised a questioning eyebrow at Jim, as if to say "Do we gotta kill 'er now?" Neve stifled a chuckle at his obvious consternation. The strain burned her lungs a bit, and the chuckle turned into a cough.

  "As a matter of fact," she said nonchalantly, "I was on my way to Chicago with my job at the circus."

  The deflated balloons perked up a bit.

  "Ya work for a circus? Doin' what?" Jim seemed keenly interested.

  She almost laughed again. Most kids his age would be asking hoping for a ticket to the show. This kid was probably still assessing her monetary value.

  "I'm a magician." Six pairs of eyes widened. Jim's narrowed.

  "Baloney!" he spat. "Magicians are fellas. Everybody knows that. I ain't never seen a lady magician."

  "Well, you have now." She crossed her arms like the oldest girl, Georgie, had done earlier. Neve could issue an unspoken challenge as well as the next orphan.

  "Prove it. Do something magic."

  Neve frowned and sat up. It felt like she still had her wand, but it'd be tough to get at it without their noticing. A good magician didn't need props and formulaes. She had to improvise often enough when she was taking care of an unpredictable passel of circus animals. She should be able to do the same with magic.

  She tucked her hands into her pockets and smiled, finding what she needed there.

  In the middle of the group was a little girl with curly brown hair. She wasn't much older than Toby, if at all.

  "Hello, there, sweetie. What's your name?"

  "Faye." The voice was nearly inaudible. She clutched a ratty rag doll to her chest.

  "Well, you're a lovely little girl, Faye, but I think you could use a bath."

  The girl's face wrinkled in a furious frown. Noises of outrage bubbled up from the rest of the children. Neve reached up towards the girl's face.

  "You've got all kinds of strange things stuck behind your ears." She pulled out a small cameo necklace. The clasp had failed while she was at the restaurant, and she'd tucked it away until it could be repaired.

  "How'd you do that?" The girl's voice was awed but still suspicious.

  While everyone's attention was focused on Faye and the necklace, Neve slipped a hand in another child's pocket. He was a wiry scrap of a boy, perhaps ten or twelve.

  "And what about you, young man? I'd say you could stand a good soak in a hot bath as well, with something strange as this tucked up there."

  She pulled a penny whistle from his ear.

  "Archie! That's Ceci's whistle! How'd you get it?" Frank yelled.

  Oops. That wasn't exactly the reaction I wanted.

  Apparently she'd palmed something Archie had swiped from Frank's sister. The kids began arguing and wrestling with each other. Neve slid to the edge of the straw bales, her eye on the door, wondering if whomever had brought her here would be back soon. Jim caught her eye.

  "I saw what you did." His voice was hard and speculative. She bet he was a wonder at cards, with that ability to bluff.

  "Did you? Did you really see it, or do you just know what you should've seen, when you were looking elsewhere?" She poked at the hard edges of his certainty looking for holes, and was rewarded. He flushed a little.

  She was better than that. He hadn't actually seen her palm the objects; he just knew enough about such tricks to know how they were done.

  "Could you teach me?"

  The words were barely above a whisper, threaded with daring hope. The skills she'd learned from her father's journals had transformed her life. What could they accomplish for these children?

  The seven of them were living on the streets, fending for themselves. Jim probably wasn't thinking any bigger than improving his pickpocket skills, but he could be so much more. Any of them could be.

  Neve knew he must have the basics of misdirection and escape artistry down just to have survived. He'd actually be an ideal magician's apprentice.

  These kids needed her help. She needed a place to lie low for a while. At least until she could figure out what had happened to her, and who to trust.

  As much as she wanted to believe Brendan had nothing to do with her misadventures and someone else had stolen his knife, there was still the issue of his past. He hadn't denied he was keeping something from her. Whatever it was, his dishonesty clouded everything between them.

  Her days of avoiding important questions for fear of unpleasant answers needed to end. Being innocent was one thing. Being willfully ignorant was another.

  If Brendan wanted her trust, he'd have to tell her what he'd been hiding.

  She was also determined to find out how she'd ended up in her current situation. She didn't know if someone meant for her to disappear for a few days or if much worse had been intended. The presence of the knife didn't bode well. But who'd want her dead, and why?

  The obvious culprits were Max and Bella, but they had as much to lose if she disappeared as anyone in the circus. She doubted anyone could be that short-sighted and vindictive.

  Well, then again, maybe those two could.

  The only person with something obvious to gain from her death was her guardian.

  Although it seemed unlikely, it was possible Lang still feared she'd claim her share and leave the circus. She didn't want to believe it, but she had to find out for certain.

  No, going straight back to the circus wasn't the smartest plan. She needed to hide out for a while, take a few days to get her bearings. Could she hire a Pinkerton agent, now that she had access to her trust fund?

  She'd lost his card, but Mr. Parillo's offices couldn't be that hard to find if she was already in the city.

  She pondered the mob of children still waiting for her to answer Jim's question. Whether they meant to or not, this band of street urchins had rescued her.

  They could use sleight of hand and escape artistry as thieves, but it didn't mean they would. If she could return to the circus, she could find a place for them there.

  If it wasn't safe to return to Lang & Perrault's, she still had the money to see them settled in better circumstances.

  Even if she couldn't get them to agree to stay with her, they'd still be better off with the skills she could teach them.

  First things first. She'd find Mr. Parillo and see about getting some money and some clean clothes. After that, she was taking these seven little thieves to the nearest hotel for a round of baths and hot meals.

  And lessons. Magic lessons.

  She cleared her throat, not wanting to choke on her own words again. Seven faces turned towards her, abandoning the arguments which had broken out among them.

  "We'll start with palming techniques."

  Jim's eyes lit up. The other children drew closer, shuffling around to hear her better. Ceci grabbed back her pennywhistle, slapping Archie, the boy whose pocket -- and ear -- she'd pulled it out of.

  "I'll teach any of you who want to learn. How to read other people. How to make them look one way when you're doing something somewhere else. How to move without being seen."

  "We already know most of that." Georgie kicked the dirt floor in disappointment.

  "Not like this. Not like a magician. And if I can scrabble together a few supplies for some basic formulaes, I can show you something you can't already do. I can show you some real magic."

  Faye had quietly put the cameo necklace around her own neck. She stepped eagerly towards Neve.

  "Me first."

  Accusations and Revelations

  "I can't believe you haven't already had these two arrested!"

  Brendan waved at Bella and Max, who sat on the other side of the small sitting room in Andrew Lang's omnibus. They weren't even bothering to pretend to b
e upset or surprised at Neve's sudden disappearance.

  "Because he has no evidence we've done anything wrong," Bella's voice was cool and snide. "In fact, there's no evidence anything sinister has actually happened. Unless you count abandoning the people who raised you the instant you find out you're an heiress."

  Her expression revealed nothing, but that was hardly an indication of innocence. The woman could be as opaque as brick when she wanted.

  "Are you implying Neve just walked off into the night, by herself, because she suddenly decided she didn't want to be in the circus anymore? Without a word?" Brendan's voice was rich with sarcasm. He needed something to cover the rage and panic he felt rising in his throat.

  "Stranger things have happened."

  "Like what? The monkeys growing wings and flying out of their cages? This is Neve we're talking about!"

  His blue eyes crackled with outrage. He was tempted to throttle Bella, with her cool dismissal.

  "You act as if you know her, boy. Or as if we know you, for that matter. You've hardly been here a year. Max, Andrew and I have been keeping this company afloat for years, after her father nearly ruined it! We're all just lucky Bianchi only destroyed himself with his hubris and incompetence."

  At this, Lang leapt from his seat towards Bella, pulling his hands back a moment after they reached for her scrawny neck. She cowered behind Max on the settee, as if realizing she'd gone too far.

  "I know he was your friend, Andrew, but the man died at his own hand. Perhaps if you hadn't been so dependent on him, the circus wouldn't have fallen so far in his absence.

  "And you were about to do the same thing with his flighty little floozy of a daughter. If she's run off to spend Daddy's inheritance now that she has it, I'm grateful she's spared you making the same mistake twice!"

  Brendan's fingers ached for his knives, but instead he gripped Lang's shoulders. The man was beside himself. Besides, Bella and Max had only agreed to this meeting on condition that he leave his knives in his tent. Max had actually patted him down on the way into Lang's omnibus.

  "First, if you truly believe that, you're either the biggest fools I've ever come across, or I've gotten to know Neve better in a year than you have in a decade. Don't think I haven't heard the whispers. You two have run off any performers who might challenge Bella for the featured act for years. You've finally encountered someone too brave to scare off with petty threats, and I demand to know what you've done with her!"

  Max cracked his knuckles, glaring at Brendan, his expression practically daring him to throw the first punch.

  Since his fist was roughly the size of a man's skull, Brendan eyed him cautiously. But it was Bella who attacked, in the way he least expected.

  "You're not the only person who's heard rumors! And unlike the baseless, jealous gossip about Max and me, the scuttlebutt around you turns out to be true!" With this, she pulled a yellowed, folded paper from her reticule and waved it at Lang.

  Brendan felt as though Max had planted that skull-sized fist in his gut.

  Frankly, he would have preferred a punch in the gut to seeing the piece of paper dangling from Venezia's manicured talons. They had broken into his locked chest. His secret was out, and at the worst possible moment. Why on earth hadn't he burned that stupid piece of paper?

  Lang took it, unfolding it carefully on his lap.

  It was a wanted poster, emblazoned with the words "POLICE NOTICE. WANTED FOR MURDER IN IRELAND. REWARD £1000."

  The photo was unmistakably him.

  "If anyone here is keeping criminal acts a secret, it's you!" Bella pointed in accusation.

  Lang cast an apprehensive look at him. Granted, the likeness was a bit younger. He was missing the distinctive beard and mustache. His hair seemed a bit lighter in the photo, too. The name printed below the photograph was "Ronan Malone."

  But there was no real question. It was Brendan.

  Bella licked her lips in anticipation for his comeuppance.

  Max continued to silently rub his fists.

  Brendan waited for Lang's reaction.

  Lang took a deep breath before responding.

  "Dig deeply enough and you'd probably find a wanted poster for most of the people traveling in this carnival." His level of sangfroid stunned all three of them.

  As they stared at him slack-jawed, he continued. It seemed he'd decided if he wasn't going to get calm and reasonable out of them, he'd settle for dumbstruck and silent.

  "Be that as it may, Brendan or Ronan, I have at least four reliable witnesses who tell me Bella and Max were not out of their sight for over five minutes during all of last night. Right up until, and well after, you found me and told me Neve was missing."

  Bella smirked. Brendan snorted in disbelief.

  "You're not saying you believe them? Lang, you can't possibly think--"

  "I don't know what to think, frankly. Like you, I don't believe Neve would run off. I also believe my people when they tell me Max and Bella were accounted for when she disappeared. And, my boy, I don't believe you'd ever hurt Neve, no matter what might be on that poster."

  At this, Bella and Max made smothered noises of reproach, but Lang rested a hand reassuringly on Brendan's shoulder.

  "I also don't know what to do. We have a show in one week in Chicago and a star that is missing. And yes, Bella, I do mean star. If your act could've gotten us this billing, it would have done so long before now. We are on the very brink of this company's salvation or destruction, depending on whether we can locate Neve and bring her safely back."

  Bella opened her mouth, but Lang stilled her with a raised hand.

  "Now, I suggest you two go back to your respective establishments for the night and get some rest. I need to have a word with young Mr. Donnelly. Or Mr. Malone, as the case may be."

  With that, Lang ushered the two older performers out of the caravan. He turned to Brendan, who was practically trembling with rage. Lang slumped into an armchair, running his fingers through his hair.

  "You can't possibly believe those two?"

  "I do and I don't. But first, let's discuss this poster. Why didn't you bring this to me yourself? Are you guilty of murder? You wouldn't be the first person to hide from unjust charges within the sanctuary of this carnival, but you still should have come to me." He waved the piece of paper before dropping it onto a small table.

  "I'll be happy to tell you the whole sordid tale when this is all over, but right now every moment counts. This pointless meeting has wasted too much time already. You can do with me what you will, but first I need to find Neve."

  "I thought you believed she was dead? Killed by those two?" Now that Bella and Max weren't in the room, Lang's cool English veneer was crumbling.

  "Not now. If you believe their alibi, it means they didn't grab her. Maybe they hired some thug. Maybe he was only meant to make her disappear till you gave up on her. There's still hope. And if there's still hope, I have to find her. But every moment that passes will make it harder."

  "What makes you think you'll have any better luck than you did last night?"

  "I can't just give up, Lang!"

  His eyes told the older gentleman what his words could not. Lang softened somewhat, recognizing what he saw there. Murderer or not, Brendan was madly in love with Neve.

  Brendan wondered if the knowledge would reassure Lang, or worry him further.

  "I know you can't. But you can't find her without help, either. Go to the Mirror."

  Brendan gave a quizzical look at the full-length looking glass in the corner of the sitting room.

  "Not that mirror, the Mirror. The fortune teller. She's an alchemist. Tell her I sent you. If she can't find Neve in her mirror, she can probably give you a formulae to track her. I'd have done it myself, but I can't leave the circus in this state."

  Brendan wasn't sure if Lang referred to the state of the circus, or his own state of mind. The poor man seemed to be at wit's end. As hard as it was for him to bear Neve's disappearance, he
couldn't imagine how difficult it was for the man who'd raised her.

  "No, you can't. You need to stay here and continue getting ready for Chicago."

  "Chicago!" Lang snorted. "How could we possibly still go to Chicago?"

  "I will find Neve. I will bring her back. Have faith in her, if you can't in me." Perhaps if Lang could focus on holding the circus together, he could keep from falling apart. Brendan tried not to think about how he'd avoid it himself, if he didn't find her soon.

  "I suppose I that's better than pacing and worrying myself to death." He shook his head, as if trying to clear it of his worst fears. "She's a remarkable girl, Brendan. I can't believe she'd let anyone get the better of her, not for long." Brendan prayed those words were true, and not just the desperate hope of a man who couldn't face any other possibility.

  Lang straightened his shoulders, as if doing anything less than carrying on bravely was an insult to the girl who'd done the same as a child of eight.

  "All right. We'll proceed with the preparations. With luck, you'll return in time with our star attraction. At worst, we'll pull off the best show we can in her absence."

  Neither man was willing to admit her absence could be permanent.

  The idea of a future without Neve was unbearable.

  ~*~

  The Mirror's tent was deserted at this time of night. Brendan hesitated a moment before entering.

  He'd avoided the fortune teller for the past year, afraid she'd see past his facade and reveal the monster underneath. People came to her to see their future. It didn't mean she couldn't gaze back into their pasts.

  Destiny ran both ways.

  Not that it mattered now. Brendan's past had caught up with him. He should have been preparing to go on the run again. He should've been thinking up a new name.

  Once word got out about the price on his head, someone would find the nearest aether wire depot and turn him in for the reward. He was shocked Bella and Max hadn't done it already. Maybe they had, and the constabulary was on its way.

  He didn't care.