“Do you?” I asked, holding very still.
He turned back to me, and seemed twenty years older in that moment. “This isn’t about me.”
I took a deep breath. This discussion would get us nowhere. I needed to lessen the charge of it. I started sifting through the photos. “Let’s look at what we know for certain. Clearly, the headmaster is obsessed with discovering the truth about something regarding his family, as evidenced by the pictures. He has created this machine without approval from the Order to extract secrets forcibly. He has been using the Academy as the perfect mask for ordering whatever he needed for the device from the Foundry. After the disaster with Lord Rathford, if he were caught with this machine, he would be given the Black Mark. The only way to continue to pursue his course of action was to come up with some excuse to propose a truth-detecting machine to the Order, an excuse that would force them to see the need for it.”
One of the pictures caught my eye. I picked it up and studied it. “That’s when I came along and everything fell into place.”
David crossed his arms and huffed. “You mean that’s when everything suddenly exploded. I was there when you were nominated. I’ve never seen such an uproar.”
“That anger was the perfect front for sabotage,” I said. “Those fat old blowhards made it clear that they would do anything to stop me from defiling their precious halls. My nomination was a convenient excuse to make everyone who opposed my nomination suspect.”
“Which made everyone suspect,” David concluded. “No wonder he seconded your nomination. And to think, I admired him for breaking convention even though it would cause him grief.”
“Exactly.”
David shook his head. “The Foundry is too important. No grudge is worth that. And how do we know which Foundry worker he suspects?”
I turned around the picture I had gathered. It was MacTavish. I remembered Oliver’s warning about madness in the Order. “The headmaster’s not in his right mind.” I pointed at the globe above the chair. “I accidentally witnessed the headmaster using this machine on himself, and in that globe I saw a cuckoo flying through the Foundry. Cuckoos lay their eggs in the nest of another bird and force that bird to raise the young as their own. As I was watching, the bird caught fire, and Headmaster Lawrence laughed.”
“By God.” David looked appalled.
I hadn’t made the connection at the time, but now it made perfect sense. “Remember what the headmaster said when he proposed his machine in front of the assembly? He warned them that next time the saboteur would choose a target they could not ignore. Leader Octavian ordered the headmaster to study the bomb. The headmaster has access to it. He has the means to repair it, and he has a personal vendetta against the master of the Foundry.”
“Without the Foundry there are no Amusements.” David took my hand and grabbed the lantern. “Come. We have to find him.”
I wanted desperately to capture the man in the mask, but suddenly this was so much more important. Headmaster Lawrence’s plan could destroy everything. Hundreds of lives could be lost, including Will’s. I had to stop him.
We left the secret workshop, and the barrel door swung shut behind us. A light was shining through a crack in the door to the archives. David and I ran toward it. Instructor Nigel was on top of one of the high ladders.
“Instructor,” David called out. The man turned on the ladder and peered down his nose at us through his monocle.
“What on earth are you both still doing here?” he asked as he descended the ladder.
“Have you seen the headmaster?” I called up to him. “We desperately need to speak with him.”
Instructor Nigel paused on the ladder and tipped the spine of a thin book out to consider it a moment. “He’s no longer here and won’t return until our next set of courses. He has business to attend to.”
“Where?” David asked even as I felt the cold weight of dread settle within me.
“Scotland, of course.” Instructor Nigel made a face at the title he had selected and returned it to the shelf. “He boarded the steamship this afternoon.”
I looked to David, and he seemed to share my thoughts. Our worst suspicions had just been confirmed.
“Instructor Nigel,” I said, “is there any way to quickly get a message to the Foundry? We’ve discovered the identity of the saboteur, and he must be stopped before unspeakable disaster occurs.”
“By God, who is it?” Instructor Nigel asked.
“The headmaster,” both David and I answered in chorus.
Instructor Nigel’s monocle fell out as he gave us a disbelieving stare. “Of all the ridiculous things. That’s impossible. It’s absolutely preposterous.”
“Listen to us,” I demanded. “There’s a secret workshop here in this cellar. He’s been inventing a rogue machine and using the sabotage to cover his actions. The men at the Foundry are in very real danger.”
“Nonsense. You have been reading too many childish stories.” He replaced his monocle.
“I can show it to you!” I shouted.
“See here, that is quite enough. Nothing is more important to Lawrence than this Academy. Now, if you are quite finished with your ridiculous theories, I must ask you to return to your homes immediately. I won’t say a word about the both of you being here together at this hour, but it stretches the bounds of propriety.” He came the rest of the way down the ladder and made a shooing motion with his arms. “Off you go. You wouldn’t want the Society tongues to start wagging.”
I shook my head even as David urged me to move. My reputation was the least of my concerns. Headmaster Lawrence was well on his way to the Foundry, and if his plot succeeded, Will would be dead.
As David and I left the archives and started up the stairway, I felt desperate and hopeless at once. I didn’t know what to do, but we would find no help at the Academy. We were on our own.
I followed David out to the courtyard, where Bob and David’s coachman came charging up the ramp.
“What news?” David called out. I clung to his hand out of fear.
Bob shook his bald head. “The bastard’s gone. We saw him staggering through the tunnels and gave chase, but the rat managed to escape through an old passage that had been closed off years ago. We followed him up to the streets, then the docks. He boarded a ship just as it cut ties.”
“Where was it heading?” I asked.
“The Continent,” the coachman answered. “I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do to stop him.”
The Continent.
If he was returning to the place where my grandfather was being held, my papa could be anywhere in the whole of Europe. How would I ever find him? All this time I had hoped he was safe and simply didn’t know he could return. Now I knew he was in the hands of a killer and a madman. I didn’t know how much time my grandfather had before the man in the mask decided to kill him, if he hadn’t already.
Oh, God!
What could I do?
“Damn it,” I cursed, and pulled away. I stalked in a large circle around the courtyard. David stepped into my path.
“Let him go. We have more pressing concerns at the moment.” He reached out to take my hand. I held it back.
“He killed my parents! My grandfather may be dead or being tortured by his hand. The man is insane. I can’t let my grandfather die. He’s all I have left.”
“Hundreds more could die if we don’t stop Headmaster Lawrence, including MacDonald.” David’s words felt like a slap across my face. “If your grandfather were here, what would he tell you to do?”
I hung my head. He’d gladly sacrifice his life for the Foundry. I choked back a sob, then pressed my lips together as I made a vow. As soon as this was over, I’d dedicate all my efforts to finding Papa. I would stop at nothing until I did.
Tonight I had another score to settle.
“How are we going to stop the headmaster? The ship is gone, and even if we could find another to take us to Scotland, the Foundry steamship is th
e fastest thing on the water,” I said, turning in a small circle. “We can’t take the train. It doesn’t leave until morning, and then we’d have to stop at every village between here and Edinburgh. It’s impossible, unless you have some magical way to whisk us through the air more than five hundred miles in one night.”
David’s expression changed suddenly as he glanced at the key around my neck. “I just might.” He turned to his coachman. “Are the horses well rested?” David asked as he pulled me toward the carriage bay. It brought me back into the moment and the danger at hand.
“Yes, my lord.” The coachman followed close on our heels, flanked by Bob.
“Good.” He waved off Bob and escorted me to his coach. “I think we need to pay a visit to Uncle Albrecht.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“WHO IS UNCLE ALBRECHT?” I asked as I fell into the seat of the coach, and David leapt in and sat across from me.
“He’s my great-uncle on my mother’s side,” David said as he offered me a hand and helped me upright. He continued, “He’s a little difficult to describe. You’ll know what I mean when you meet him.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Is he at least part of the Order?”
David gave a slight shrug. “He used to be.”
“How can he used to be?” I asked, letting my skepticism get the better of me. “Does he have the Black Mark?”
“If he did, we wouldn’t be talking about him. No. He’s just eccentric. At the moment he’s been restricted by the Order for causing a bit of a commotion that nearly exposed us.” David said it like it was a good thing. “He’s had to give up the key to his Amusements until further notice.”
The horses climbed up the ramp that led out onto the streets of London. The sun hung low in the sky, reminding me that I’d spent most of the day locked in a trunk. In the coach I felt safe, and for that I was eternally grateful.
I wasn’t quite certain we should be calling on a feeble old man who was probably a touch more than daft, but we really didn’t have any other choice. I watched the London streets fly by as the coach hurried through town, heading south and then east into Surrey.
I concentrated on making myself presentable as best I could as the crowded streets of London broke apart and gave way to country lanes following over rolling hills, pastures, and woods, bathed in the light of the setting sun.
It didn’t take long before we reached an old Tudor home, nestled near a quiet brook. David and I stepped down from the coach and peered at the faded old house. The entire eastern side had been overcome by ivy. It was the perfect picture of the idyllic English countryside.
Until a boom loud enough to rattle my teeth broke the silence. A flock of blackbirds took to wing from a cluster of trees.
David laughed. “I guess he’s home. This way.”
I was only mildly surprised David didn’t show more concern. “Are you certain he’s all right?” I asked as I followed David down a garden path around the house to a very large stable nestled in a slight dell. It was easily as large as the Chadwick stables, but the size of the house didn’t seem to warrant it, unless David’s uncle had once been a horse breeder.
Billows of steam were rising up from stacks on the nearest side of the long building. David rushed to the door. It opened, and a wiry old man stumbled out. A shock of pure white hair sprouted from the center of his forehead, but the rest of his hair seemed to have abandoned the lonely patch and had taken up residence in a circle about his ears. He coughed dramatically as he came to sit on a large rock near the doors. Then he took out a flask from the pocket of the leather apron he was wearing and took a swig.
His bushy eyebrows hopped up and down as he wiped off a pair of spectacles and replaced them on his nose. He leaned forward and peered at us.
“Guten Abend, Onkel,” David greeted with a very distinct Prussian lilt. David’s uncle brightened at once and sprang to his feet like a prancing fawn, not an old man. I guessed we didn’t have to worry about him being feeble.
“David, my God! It is too long a time since you have come to visit,” the old man responded in an even heavier Prussian dialect. “So, my favorite nephew is well?”
“Yes, of course,” David said, switching back to English. “You’re trying to find a way around your restrictions again, aren’t you?”
David’s uncle didn’t seem to notice the censure or the change in language. At least he didn’t heed it as he continued on as if David hadn’t responded at all, walking back toward the house. “And who is this you bring here? What a pretty girl. I hope you have come to tell me of a marriage. If that is not so, you should ask her to wed.”
I felt my cheeks go hot. David blushed as well, as he led his uncle toward me. “Allow me to introduce Miss Margaret Whitlock, Onkel.” David leaned his head closer to the old man. “She speaks German,” he whispered, “though her Swiss dialect is horrendous.”
“Ach, I am caught,” Uncle Albrecht said in English. He smiled, and his silvery eyes twinkled. “So this is the young lady apprentice. I must admit, I was expecting something different. Your forgiveness, please. I so rarely have a chance to play the matchmaker.”
“Of course . . .” I hesitated, not knowing what to call him exactly.
“Uncle Albie, bitte. Our families have always worked well together. At least on the Reichlin side.” He took my arm and led me through the back garden toward the house.
“I beg your pardon, but what was the loud noise we heard earlier?”
The old Prussian laughed. “My smithing skills are not what they used to be. I had a pressure vessel, how should we say, not meet my standard. Do not fear. I had it quite contained, though none of this would happen if I still had access to the Foundry.” He opened the door to his kitchens and attempted to usher me inside. “So you will stay for tea? I will make my best attempt with my regular teapot. I’m having only a very little bit of trouble with my clockwork one.”
I started to answer, but David spoke over me. “I’m sorry, Onkel, but this is not a social call. We have discovered a plot against the Foundry, but at present no one will believe us. We have to get to Scotland tonight, or the disaster that will unfold could destroy the Order altogether.”
Uncle Albrecht let the door swing closed as his affable disposition turned suddenly serious. “Who would wish to harm the Foundry?”
“Headmaster Lawrence is seeking revenge upon MacTavish for a suspected affair with his wife. He has a bomb,” I explained. “He intends to use it.”
Albrecht’s bushy eyebrows furrowed so close together, they became one. “If what you say is truth, this is very serious. I would help, but after the incident over Kent, I’m afraid I cannot.” He looked toward the barn with longing. “I can no longer direct the steam from the boilers into the envelope. Without a working key I’m afraid our feet must remain firmly planted.”
I brought my hand to the key around my neck. “If you have a means to get us to Scotland by morning, I have the means to unlock it.” I lifted the key, and the old man’s wrinkled face lit up.
“Henry’s master key. He taught you to use it?”
I nodded.
“Excellent.” He clapped his hands together. “I am far too long without causing trouble for the Order. Come, this way. David, go inside and gather food, water, and warm blankets—oh, and don’t forget my tonic. If we are going to Scotland, we will need them.”
I followed Uncle Albrecht back to the stables. I didn’t know what we might find there. I thought perhaps he had invented a train that did not need a track. Or perhaps there were mechanical horses in the stable that never tired. When we had traveled north in the Chadwick coach, we had made good time, but it had still taken us days to reach Yorkshire. We had to get to the Highlands. I didn’t see how it was possible.
Albrecht opened the doors, and we stepped inside. I immediately choked on the thick air, heavy with smoke and steam. It clung to my skin and made my hair stick to my scalp. We had entered a good-size room. On either side of
the room stood enormous boilers, six in all. Scorching-hot fires burned within them as the hiss and whistle of escaping steam permeated the air.
“I’ve been trying to find a way around the lock but have had little success, as evidenced by the noise you heard. With the lock in place I cannot vent what steam I have, except through the stacks,” Albrecht shouted over the noise. “The lock is here.” He reached a box connected to the juncture of several of the pipes. They radiated out from it like the rays of the sun.
“Why did you light the fires in the first place?” I asked, swiping my hand over my cheek to pull away the wet strands of hair clinging to it.
“I am an Amusementist,” he said while checking the pressure valves on the enormous boilers. “I was working on improvements to the water intake system. What else am I to do with my time? Here, here.” He ushered me closer to the box.
I pushed away the medallion with the Amusementist seal. It was hot from the steam. Opening my key, I watched the internal mechanism rise from the casing and spin until it had opened completely, like the flower that graced the seal.
I fitted it into the box, and the song began to play. A set of pianoforte keys rose up from beneath a long, narrow grate at my feet. Several large pipes also rose, forming a wall behind the pipes sprouting from the boilers.
Albrecht moved close to my side and without thinking much about it played his personal code phrase of music on the keys. Answering notes bellowed out of the pipes like those from a monstrous pipe organ.
Suddenly gears began to turn, and the whistling hiss became a rush of moving steam. Something rumbled, and the building began to shake. I ducked, fearing the old ceiling would come down. I ran out the door and onto the grass beyond.
Albrecht galloped out of the doors, looking both enormously pleased and satisfied. I didn’t see what he had to be so happy about. The rumbling was about to tear his stable apart. As I looked up, I realized it was tearing his stable apart. The roof of the building had split and was rising slowly, opening up like the hinged lid of a basket.
Rise of the Arcane Fire (The Secret Order) Page 24
