Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1)

by Cassandra Leuthold

  Katya tittered into her glove, imagining every step of Maddox’s day. Only when the front door clicked shut did Katya remember what she had spent her hours anticipating, the arrival of Mrs. Weeks with a hot copy of the News.

  Katya leapt off the settee and scrambled for the hall with Maddox on her heels. “Really, Mrs. Weeks,” she said, hurrying toward her from the other end of the corridor. “Can’t we get a daytime paper this week?”

  Mrs. Weeks offered a sympathetic smile. “If everybody buys the morning papers, the News will go out of business.”

  “There will be other papers. What’s the news of the day?”

  Mrs. Weeks tapped the front page. “You’re not the only one who wants some answers from Mr. Warden. Such a shame. He seemed like a nice man.”

  “Seemed,” Katya echoed with a bitter edge. “What’s the paper say about him?”

  Mrs. Weeks gestured to the article. “While the carnival remains closed, several reporters gathered sentiments from the crowds which hang around the locked gate every night. The bystanders all anxiously await its reopening. Mrs. Elfriede Diederich, sister of the late Mrs. Agna Lieber, a charwoman at the carnival, also hopes for more information concerning her sister’s death. Mrs. Diederich reminds the city that both her sister and her sister’s husband, Mr. Ernst Lieber, died on carnival grounds.”

  “Neither death was Mr. Warden’s fault,” Katya spoke up.

  Maddox glanced at her over the newspaper, unappreciative of her protecting Mr. Warden, even if it was the truth.

  Mrs. Weeks continued, oblivious to their tension. “Several carnival employees, including Mr. Garrett Davies, stood present. Mr. Davies is eager to resume his duties driving a carriage for the female employees. He hopes that Mr. Warden will not return as the head of the carnival.”

  A supportive wryness puckered Katya’s lips. “Good old Mr. Davies.”

  “It also mentions Mr. Warden is in the process of finding a lawyer but hasn’t chosen one yet.”

  Maddox huffed. “What’s he waiting for? They’ll hang him before he hires a lawyer.”

  Katya tilted her head doubtfully. “They’re not going to hang him for stolen property.”

  “The crowds might.”

  Mrs. Weeks nodded slowly, still reading the article. “A lot of people are angry. They want to know how Mr. Warden got a hold of the journal and why it’s taken so long to find all of this out.”

  “Now, Mrs. Weeks,” Katya reminded her in a tone too sweet to be taken seriously. “You know Mr. Warden is innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Innocent,” Mrs. Weeks grumbled. Maddox’s voice overlapped hers, saying, “Innocent until a judge hears him out.” They bowed their heads at each other in approval.

  Katya expected sarcasm from Maddox but studied Mrs. Weeks in wonder. “I didn’t think you’d have such a strong opinion about it, especially against Mr. Warden.”

  Mrs. Weeks shrugged. “I’ve been following the details very closely. Didn’t you see the pictures? Mr. Warden looks so smug in his expensive suit, and Mr. Kelly looks so hardworking and downtrodden. Honestly, how did he keep quiet all these years?”

  “He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t have any evidence until I found it in the garbage.”

  “That’s something else I was glad to see put to rest. You and Magdalene’s humility. How could you not want your names in the paper for this? No one ever would’ve known that you helped this disadvantaged man bring down the corrupt Mr. Warden if the reporters hadn’t pressed for more of the story. I think you both deserve to star in every article.”

  “We agreed to stay out of it as much as possible. We want to let Mr. Kelly have his day.”

  “But the trial. You’ll have to testify. You’re not going to lie to the judge, are you?”

  “No. I suppose the entire truth will come out eventually, but like Mags said, Mr. Kelly deserves the attention, not us. He invented the carnival. We just work there.”

  Mrs. Weeks’ eyebrows shot up. “You still want to work at the carnival?”

  “Of course. What else could I do?”

  A fierce bout of coughing erupted from the second floor.

  Mrs. Weeks winced, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “You could help me look after Lizzie. She won’t send for a doctor, the stubborn girl.”

  Katya tried to allay her conscience. “She’s well enough to go to work.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So am I,” Maddox sighed with regret.

  Mrs. Weeks pattered up the stairs to check on Lizzie, and Katya saw Maddox to the door.

  Maddox continued to drop by every day, and every day Katya waited for fresh news on the carnival. She sent letters to the doctors thanking them for their concern and assuring them she already received the best of care. She selected a lawyer with Mrs. Weeks’ help, whose indispensible knowledge covered the professional and personal reputation of most of the lawyers who offered their services. Katya’s final letter she mailed to the police, supplying a thorough account of the beating orchestrated by Mr. Weis. She gave the police her full cooperation and conducted herself as politely as could be when an officer arrived to verify her statement.

  Within a matter of days, the slamming of the front door startled Katya almost out of her skin. Mrs. Weeks tore into the house, calling out while she rasped to catch her breath. “Mr. Warden’s gone!”

  “What?” Katya raced down the long hallway. She reached Mrs. Weeks’ side and read the headline for herself. William Warden Escapes!

  Mrs. Weeks trailed her thin fingers down the page alongside the words. “Mr. William Warden... escaped from his holding cell last night. He leaves... nothing but mystery in his wake.”

  Katya snatched the newspaper from her hands as Maddox caught up to her. “Investigations into Mr. Warden’s background followed tips provided by his accuser, Mr. Brady Kelly. Police research turned up little information. Police presume Mr. Warden’s name is an alias.” Katya stopped to catch her own breath. “Why doesn’t this surprise me?”

  Mrs. Weeks waved a hand at the newspaper. “What else does it say?”

  “Mr. Warden’s flight does nothing to persuade police of his innocence. Handwriting analysis has proven that Mr. Brady Kelly told the truth. The journal was clearly written by him with certain drawings and schematics marked by Mr. Warden’s hand.”

  “How did he get out?” Mrs. Weeks wondered.

  “It says the police are looking into it.” Katya did not share her strong intuition that Mr. Warden had not needed to plan a complicated escape complete with accomplices and scaling high walls. He had bought his way out, she felt sure of it.

  “Are they looking for him?”

  “Of course.” Katya scanned more of the article. “The police are going to throw out Mr. Warden’s case against Mr. Kelly if he doesn’t return.”

  Maddox spoke up. “Why would he? Just to wave those death threats around?”

  “Exactly. Mr. Kelly’s going to go free.” Katya tried to think of what that might mean.

  Mrs. Weeks glanced around the front hall and up the staircase. “Where’s Magdalene? I haven’t seen her one evening this week.”

  “She’s been all over town, talking to people, mostly the workers. She’s been trying to find out what they really think, trying to rally support for Mr. Kelly.”

  Katya knew what it could mean. Victory, in the greatest sense of the word. Not simply justice against Mr. Warden but the realization of their biggest dream: Brady taking his rightful place as the owner and manager of the Steampunk Carnival.

  For several days, the headlines tracked the uncertainty of the carnival’s future. Despite Magdalene’s best efforts, her name dotted the papers. Reporters cited her continued displays of support for Brady, leading right up to the rumor she would soon speak on his behalf at a carnival shareholders’ meeting.

  Katya sulked about that. She did not mind appearing in the papers only as a victim of violence and the retriever of the journal from the trash
. She wished with all of her aching bones and discolored flesh that she could join Magdalene in front of those grumpy old investors. Katya walked Magdalene to the front porch, where Mr. Davies waited with his carriage to drive her to the meeting.

  Katya gave her friend a warm hug. “Best of luck.”

  Magdalene nodded. Her long days strolling the city and longer nights visiting the carnival’s perimeter showed in the shadowing of her face. At Katya’s insistence, atop her normal, everyday outfit, Magdalene wore a red hat decorated with steampunk buckles and shining gears. “How do I look?”

  “Perfect. They’ll remember how magical the carnival is, and they’ll want to side with you. I wish I could go. I could convince them.”

  “Not with your face all yellow and green,” Magdalene said, gentle and pitying. “We want them to remember the carnival for what it was, for what Mr. Kelly would make of it. A safe place. A place to enjoy ourselves.”

  Katya knew this, but it did not stop her from imagining herself flinging the door to the meeting room wide open. She would strut in, dressed from head to toe in her spectacular steampunk garb, and convince them to replace Mr. Warden with Mr. Kelly through a long, impassioned speech.

  Magdalene disappeared out the door, and Katya dragged herself back to the unfinished book waiting for her in the living room.

  By the time Mrs. Weeks arrived with a copy of the News the next evening, Katya knew the story. Magdalene’s earnest plea had won over the group of shareholders – half of whom, she informed Katya, were not old curmudgeons but young entrepreneurs. With the shareholders’ and most of the employees’ approval, Mr. Brady Kelly was named acting manager of the carnival. Over time, with his salary, he could purchase Mr. Warden’s share of it and own its majority.

  The next afternoon, when the door knocker sounded, Katya expected to hear Maddox’s voice greeting Mrs. Weeks. Instead, from her settee in the living room, she heard Brady’s much more formal, awkward entreaty.

  “Good day, ma’am.” There was a pause, and Katya imagined Brady tipping his hat. “My name is Brady Kelly. I work for the...”

  “The carnival,” Mrs. Weeks finished excitedly.

  “Yes, ma’am. I wanted to thank Miss Romanova personally. I wondered if I might speak to her.”

  Katya set down her magazine and walked the length of the hall to the front door. Brady’s thin body looked rattled and worn, but his eyes sparkled. He gripped his hat in his hands.

  Mrs. Weeks glanced at Katya. “Mr. Kelly to see you, dear.”

  Katya nodded. She could not take her eyes off Brady. He was the first person she had seen from the carnival in over a week who was not a friend or a lover. Seeing him made her realize, made her know in her bones the fight against Mr. Warden was over. “Please come in, Mr. Kelly.”

  Brady stepped in past Mrs. Weeks, who shut the heavy door. In a motion Katya did not expect, Brady threw his arms around her back and sobbed. She held onto him, feeling the shake and heave of his chest against her body.

  “Thank you,” Brady said when he could speak. “Thank you so much. Not just for me. For Sarah and Nathaniel, too. If there were anything I could do to pay you back for what you’ve done for me, I would do it.”

  “All I want is my job at the carnival.”

  “You’ll always have it. You know that.” Brady stepped back and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his face.

  “I know Magdalene will be happy to know you’re out of jail.”

  “She knows, miss. She met me when they released me.”

  Katya looked down at the bell of her dress, too wide for her to see the toes of her shoes. “I’m glad. I didn’t know she met you. I’m not told much these days. I’m just trying to stay out of the way until my face heals.”

  “Miss Romanova, I hope you won’t wait that long. I’m reopening the carnival in a couple of days.”

  Katya looked up quickly. “You are?”

  “Yes, as soon as I can. There are people waiting to go back to work. I’m told a few have quit, so I’ll have some positions to fill.”

  Katya edged toward him, her fingers fidgeting against each other. “Mr. Kelly, I was thinking. I wanted to find a way to help the homeless who sleep in the pews of St. John’s Church. I thought some of them might have skills you can use.”

  Brady smiled, the wrinkled skin constricting around his eyes in gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll check there first.”

  The knocker rapped at the door, and Mrs. Weeks pulled it open.

  Stationed on the porch, Maddox lifted his hat. “Good afternoon.”

  Brady set his own hat back on his head. “I should be going. I’ll be in touch about the carnival reopening. The police gave me Warden’s keys, so I’ll have to find the employee records in his office.”

  “A lot’s going to change, isn’t it?” Katya asked, hopeful but knowing the answer.

  “All for the better, Miss Romanova.”

  “Good luck at the carnival.”

  “Thank you.” Brady turned as Maddox stepped into the hallway. “Have a pleasant afternoon.” Brady slipped out the door and crossed the porch to the steps.

  Mrs. Weeks closed the door. “I can hardly keep track of all your visitors.”

  Katya beamed at Maddox. She could never help her heart from soaring when he fixed her with so much adoration. “This is the last visitor I expect today, Mrs. Weeks.”

  “Perhaps it’s time I finally visit the carnival. Do you think it’ll be running smoothly enough to give me a good experience?”

  “I’m sure it will. Whatever you want to do, Mrs. Weeks.”

  Maddox’s eyes roamed Katya’s figure from the hem of her dress to the curls of her hair.

  Mrs. Weeks started down the stairs, muttering to herself about where she had last left her glasses.

  Maddox stepped forward, and Katya met him with a full, lingering kiss. His face was still close to hers when he spoke. “So the carnival’s reopening.”

  “Soon. Very soon. You’re staying on under the new management, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. That’s the only way I can see you at night.”

  Katya laughed and pulled away from Maddox even though she wanted to remain as close as possible. She did not know when Magdalene would come home or when Mary might need to pass through the hall to clean.

  “When do I get to hear the rest of the story?” Maddox asked. “The whole story, all the way from the beginning. Not the abridged versions for Mrs. Weeks and the newspapers.”

  “They’ve gotten most of it. They’re only missing scraps.”

  “Hasn’t the carnival had enough secrets?” Maddox teased her.

  Katya reveled in having Maddox near her, both of them safe after so much risk. “Yes, but these are the kinds of things that can’t hurt anybody. I’ll tell you everything in time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  If Mr. Warden had stayed in town and managed to win the battle facing him, the carnival reopening would have unfurled much differently. Katya imagined huge, colorful banners on every section of the fence. Mr. Warden would have doubled, if not tripled, the size of the band. He would have searched high and low for the perfect act to host on the side stage. He might have given away some sort of cheap prize or keepsake to every guest as an incentive and celebration.

  Brady’s reopening, like him, was marked by simplicity, humility, and honesty. He hired several of the city’s homeless as security and maintenance. No special banners graced the perimeter, but a newly constructed sign welcomed visitors in place of the original bearing Mr. Warden’s name: Mr. Brady Kelly’s Carnival For All Ages. The other signs hung where Mr. Warden left them.

  Brady gave a small speech to his employees before the gates opened. Katya took more interest in watching the expressions of the others than hearing Brady’s actual words. They seemed to accept him as their new boss despite how unlike the dashing, charismatic Mr. Warden he conducted himself. Brady’s final announcement was a reminder that all children under the a
ge of twelve would be allowed free entrance to the carnival that night. Katya could hardly wait, outfitted in shades of blue from crown to ankle. She felt at home, and when she caught Maddox’s approving gaze, she knew she looked the part.

  Katya was surprised at first how effortlessly she slipped back into her routine of walking the carnival. She should not have been, she told herself. She had walked it almost every night for over a year. Brady had shown her a few sketches he had drawn in police custody, waiting to be released. They held new ideas for the carnival, new rides and games, new places for new stages.

  Katya tried to picture it, Brady’s vision for the carnival. It would not be Mr. Warden’s ideal layout anymore, with the food stalls and final game tucked in the back, luring customers past all the more frivolous attractions. Brady trusted his guests to know what they wanted and to stay long enough to experience it.

  Within a few weeks, by the time Katya’s bruises faded from her fair complexion, the carnival returned to its normal, smooth operation. Katya aided guests from one side of the grounds to the other, excitedly informing them what fresh attractions they could look forward to in the coming months. She stopped by the food stall on occasion to talk to Magdalene, especially when her crimson-clad friend was cooking instead of dealing directly with customers. Brady allowed Irina to trade off regularly with Magdalene, and Katya had never seen Irina in a better mood. She carried out her duties as a strict professional, but pure joy tugged at the corners of her thick mouth from time to time.

  The crowds packed in so densely, Katya could hardly believe the coincidence of running into anyone she knew. Mrs. Weeks kept her word, showing up with a small entourage of friends. Katya appointed herself their personal guide and gave them a spirited tour of the grounds designed to make them carnival guests for life.

  Katya was still congratulating herself on a performance well given when she caught a flash of green amongst the black jackets and yellow dresses. She almost continued on her way before she remembered the woman in ill-fitting clothing who had frequented the carnival so long ago. Katya ducked back through the crowd, trying to find the green again in a sea of blues and purples. She might have given up hope if her curiosity had not been strong enough to drive her all night if need be.