by S. S. Engle
THE
PYRETTE QUEEN
AND THE
SCHISMATIC’S
SPYGLASS
“I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO ANYBODY ELSE,
I DON’T LIKE ANYBODY ELSE.”
- LUCA
1
It’d been seventeen years since the attack on Barrow Street that claimed the life of Captain Wilhelm von Detten. On that night alone over three hundred people were massacred by the O’Brien’s and their gang, the Absynthe Ring. The Captain’s gang, the Dreadcranks, were almost completely wiped out sans for a handful of clever children who just so happened to be in the right place at the right time. Kassidy von Detten was one of the few, she was only eleven when she saw her father die. Now after all this time she was finally ready to come back to the steam driven city of Engia, and get her revenge. She was no longer the helpless child she once was. She had made a name for herself, she had a reputation. Kassidy von Detten was the Pyrette Queen, and she intended to make everyone pay for what they had done to her, one way or another.
First stop was the O’Brien mansion. Low on money she had to get her supply up fast. The only way to do that was to steal it. And the only place worth stealing from was the O’Brien Treasury. It funded the city, the Absynthe Ring, and anything else Asa O’Brien could ever want. She remembered from when she was young that the O’Brien’s always flew a flag out front when they were home. Today there was no flag, therefore Asa wouldn’t be home. She snuck around to the back alley, all cobblestoned up with a stream of river water flowing down the middle. Security was lax back here as she had anticipated. She used the shadows to her advantage, picked the lock on the back door with her dagger, and snuck right in.
The O’Briens were known for sparing no expense. Everything was draped in luxury though the rest of the city could be in complete disrepair. The alley just out back was dark and filthy, but inside, even the back hallway was carpeted in expensive fabric with priceless ugly paintings hanging on the wall in oversized gilded gold frames. Struggling in her mismanaged upbringing Kassidy couldn’t help but stop at ogle at the elegance of everything around her. She ran her fingers across the wall as she walked, even the pain felt like she could ruin it just by looking at it wrong. As if somehow even the walls could identify that she was a poor nobody who didn’t belong there.
That was enough of that. She couldn’t get distracted. It’d been around twenty years since she’d last walked through this place, and she was desperately searching for familiar landmarks to guide her to the treasury. Obviously though Asa had changed nearly everything from when his father was in power. Kassidy recognized very little, if anything as she wandered back and forth though the halls. She was growing impatient dodging maids and servants tidying rooms and rearranging flowers in vases. Then she had her break, a massive wall sized painting of Engia, it hadn’t been moved. She knew the picture so well, the volcano that supplied the power to the city was in the upper right hand corner, the ocean down below, the airfield off to the west. She kept her dagger tight in her fist now and walked with assurance towards the treasury. Two large men in floor length black coats and guns as long as their leg were standing in her way. She put her dagger away now in a sheath on her thigh, pulled her corset strings back extra tight and batted her eyes.
“Please! Thank goodness I found you!”
“What’s wrong miss?”
“There’s a group of men in stripes at the front entrance! They were attacking me and I ran inside for help. And now I’ve found you! They said they were from some dirty gang. Please help me!”
Without a second of hesitation both men barreled out of the hall towards the front of the mansion. She’d have the better part of fifteen minutes before they realized she was lying and could get back to the treasury door. By then she’d be long gone. She picked the lock on the door, pushed herself carefully inside and got to work. With the help of a sack she took from a pile by the door she loaded it full of cash and coins as strategically as she could to get the most out of the limited space in the sack. She couldn’t be greedy because she still had to haul the money all the way back home. And home for her right now was the abandoned royal palace on top of a hill on the other side of the city. She’d almost finished her business when a familiar voice came ringing into her ear. The voice was angry by nature, though the man wasn’t necessarily angry at all. Asa was back home, early. Kassidy panicked, tied the sack up, threw it over her shoulder, and bolted for the alley before she ran into somebody she knew would be more than unforgiving if he saw her.
Stumbling into the little stream of water she breathed a sigh of relief. She gripped the sack tight in her hand as she carefully replaced the lock on the back door, cautious not to jingle it back and forth too much and cause a scene. Little did she know, she’d already caused one. Turning around now she saw she wasn’t alone in the alley. A tall, slender man in all black emerged from the shadows. He’d been leaning up against the opposing wall, and tossed his cigarette into the stream that separated himself and Kassidy. She scowled for not being more aware of her surroundings. In her defense he was wearing black from head to toe, black top hat, black jacket, and tight fitting black pants. His shoes clicked on the stone. When he coughed he brought his hand up to cover his mouth out of courtesy, and saw he wore a big brass ring with an A imprinted in it. He was a Ringer. She stiffened up now and held her ground as he slowed his approach. He bowed, but she didn’t do anything in return. He removed his top hat, held it in a fidgety hand, and revealed his heavily freckled face and bright orange hair.
“Afternoon miss.”
“Afternoon.”
“What’s a lady like yourself doing in an alley such as this?”
“I was just running an errand for my boss.”
“And who might that be I wonder?”
“None of your concern. I was just on my way out anyways. So, if you’d be so kind as to excuse me, I must be going.”
“What’s the hurry? We only just met, we haven’t even had the pleasure of exchanging names yet.”
“No need.”
“You must be at least a little interested in knowing who I am?”
“I’m afraid I’m not. Now really, if you would just excuse me…”
“I know you work at the brothel just over the bridge. You must. Madame Chauvet can wait for whatever it is you’ve got in that sack there.”
“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but I’m only a cook at the brothel. So you’re out of luck in that regard.”
“A cook?”
“Yes. A man’s second favorite reason for visiting the brothel would be my cooking.”
A man’s laugh came from further down in the alley. Kassidy gripped the sack even tighter now, knowing she was outnumbered. The Ringer who had been harassing her put his top hat back on, shoved his hands in his pockets, and took a few steps back across the stream. She took a deep breath and the second man revealed himself. He had a large build, a square jaw and an altogether cocky demeanor. He wore a single white glove on his right hand, which was the most gentlemanly like thing he probably owned. His black pants were tucked into his boots, which had seen better days. He ran his hand threw his hair now as he presented himself to Kassidy and she could get a full look at him. His hair was black, shaved on the sides and long in the middle. He had scruff on his face, and then she fixated on it. His entire left arm was mechanical. She tried not to stare, but it was hard not to, and he was aware of it. Just gears and cogs from his shoulder down, a wiry mess of bolt like fingers at the end in a crude rendition of a hand. He laughed again to get her attention and cleared his throat. He wore stripes like she did, an old Dr
eadcrank trademark, though she couldn’t be too sure to draw such a wild assumption right out of thin air. He didn’t bow, but instead put his gloved hand out to greet her.
“Not a friendly lady are you sweetheart?”
“I don’t know you.”
“That’s the whole point of an introduction is it not?”
“Yes. I suppose it is.”
“You’re not going to give me your hand?”
“No. I still don’t know who you are.”
“I don’t know anything about you either.”
“It’s better that way.”
“For who?”
“I don’t trust strangers with personal details.”
“Then don’t make me be a stranger. They call me Lucky.”
“Are you?”
“I suppose. I have my moments. I couldn’t help but notice though that this man seemed to have been bothering you.”
“I wasn’t bothering her. I just met her and wanted to know her name. Same as you.”
“I doubt that, highly.”
“Come on pretty girl. What do you say? Give us a smile huh?”
“You’d shut up if you knew what was good for you.”
“Relax Lucky. I was just trying to have some fun.”
“At her expense. You owe her an apology.”
“I’m sorry miss.”
“Where were you off to sweetheart?”
“I was just running an errand for my boss, she’ll be expecting me.”
“Madame Chauvet?”
“Yes.”
“I can escort you.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just on the other side of the river. I promise I won’t get lost.”
“Of course you won’t. By all means go ahead. We won’t keep you any longer.”
“Thank you, Lucky.”
“Anytime sweetheart. Silas you must be delusional.”
“Why?”
“There’s not enough money in the world for a boy like you to end up with a woman like that.”
“I didn’t even get her name.”
“I know her name.”
“How do you know her name?”
“I just…I just know who she is. I recognized her, but she obviously didn’t recognize me.”
“So what’s her name? She’s a vixen.”
“That woman could kill you and make your body disappear without even getting any blood on her dress.”
“Her name!”
“It’s Kassidy.”
“That’s pretty.”
“Kassidy von Detten.”
“That’s impossible! The Captain only had one child. The attack was…there weren’t any survivors!”
“That’s not entirely accurate.”
“Hey didn’t you come here to talk to Asa? Where are you going?”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t make sure she got to her destination safely?”
“But she said she didn’t need an escort.”
“She just wanted to get away from you.”
Lucky left the Ringer in the alley and quickly sprinted across the bridge to catch up to Kassidy. She’d been walking fast to make up time and create some distance for herself. She wasn’t at all thrilled to see she had been followed. This guy Lucky was persistent, but he wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. They walked side by side for awhile without saying much. Now he had his chance to try and get to see what she looked like, out of the shadows of the alley. She didn’t dress like a lady of Engia, she was rough around the edges, in all mannerisms and behavior. Her black dress was missing pieces, but it appeared intentional. Her skirt was slashed up to her left thigh, showing off her dagger sheathed way up high. She had a striped corset, which made Lucky assume Dreadcrank relations, or sheer coincidence at the least. She had a black sleeve running down to a fingerless black glove on her right arm, but no sleeve on her left arm. Her fingerless glove there left a severe burn exposed up her forearm and he winced as if he could feel the pain like it was fresh, but he knew it wasn’t. It had long since scarred over, but he knew the pain of being burned by steam, the way it pulls back flesh and mutilates it. He shook his head back and forth and took the rest of her in. She had long dark red hair that fell across her shoulders, and when she turned to look at him he saw what she had been carefully hiding before in the alley. A scar cut across her left cheek, running nearly from her nose to her jaw line. He winced again.
“It’s fine. I got this years ago. I barely even know it’s there anymore until people stare at it.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you doing here? I promised you I wasn’t going to get lost.”
“I just wanted to make sure nobody else bothered you on your way back to the br…back on your way to work.”
“You can say brothel. I know where I work. And like I told the last guy, I’m just a cook. No need to get nervous around me. I’m not the girl you need to worry about.”
“That dagger on your thigh says otherwise. I doubt you’d wear it on display like that unless you knew how to use it.”
“A girl can’t ever be too careful.”
“That sack looks awfully heavy.”
“I’m a big girl. I can carry it myself.”
“Just trying to be polite.”
“I know.”
“So…”
“So…”
“That’s a pretty bad burn on your arm there.”
“Yeah. I got that a few years ago too.”
“Hurts when you think about it huh?”
“Yeah. Have you been steam burned too?”
“That’s why I wear this glove.”
“Oh. I thought it looked kind of out of place on you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“True. But I just meant, a guy like you wouldn’t be wearing a fancy white glove like that, in my experience at least.”
“I get enough people staring at me for my arm, I don’t need people staring at me for my hand too.”
“Sorry about that earlier.”
“It’s fine. I guess we’re even now.”
“What were you doing in the alley anyway?”
“Business.”
“With the O’Briens?”
“Yes.”
“Well Asa just got home as I was leaving.”
“That’s good to know. Did you speak to him?”
“No! I mean, no, I didn’t have the chance. I was trying to get back to work.”
“Right, right of course.”
“Do you know that other man well?”
“You mean am I a Ringer too?”
“You aren’t are you?”
“No. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that ring. I’m a Dreadcrank.”
“That’s good to know. How are the Dreadcranks lately?”
“We’re doing quite well actually. You know about us?”
“Knew. I’ve been away for some time. I was just wondering if that old rivalry between the Ringers and the Dreadcranks was just as bad as I remembered.”
“I’d say it’s worse. But that’s just me. If it’s any consolation though, that man back in the alley is nothing to worry about. He was the lesser of two evils between him and his partner. But as of last week his partner just got locked up in the Brass Bulldogge.”
“Who was his partner?”
“Bloody Blue Eyes.”
“I don’t think I know that name.”
“His real name is Thomas Edwards, but on the streets we all just call him Blue. You’re much safer walking now with him put away.”
“Why do they call him Bloody Blue Eyes?”
“He’s the deadliest man in all of Engia.”
“You don’t say.”
“Yeah, he’s shot four of my guys in just the last month alone. I don’t know where he learned to shoot like he does, but I wish I could shoot like him. Take him out, give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“I take it you two don’t really get along.”
“I hat
e him almost as much as I hate Asa. But I’ll never hate anybody more than I hate Asa.”
“Well, this is me.”
“So it is.”
“Madame Chauvet doesn’t like gang members in her establishment so…”
“I have business to take care of anyways. Thank you for letting me walk with you sweetheart. Maybe we’ll cross paths again.”
