Black Iron

by Franklin Veaux

“What?” Alÿs said. “It is not polite to grab a lady.”

  “You’re a boy, remember?” He released her hand. “What is it with people just charging about without looking to see if they’re being watched, anyway?”

  “Huh?”

  “Look. See?” He pointed across the street. “Notice anything funny? The Queen’s Guard doesn’t normally stand in front of the door. We can’t let them see us.”

  “I’m a boy, remember?”

  Thaddeus snorted. “Sure, until someone gets a look at your face. They know you, right? And they’re the ones looking for you, right?”

  “Okay, fine. What do you think we should do, Mister Criminal Mastermind?”

  “Criminal Mastermind.” Thaddeus turned the phrase around in his head a few times. “I like the sound of that. I think we should make sure nobody is watching the service door.”

  “Why would someone do that?”

  He shrugged. “It’s what I would do, if I were looking for you and I thought you might go see the Cardinal.”

  “So what now?”

  “Now I look for guards around back and make sure this key fits in the lock. Then I come back here and get you.”

  “If it doesn’t?”

  “Then something has gone very wrong with the world,” Thaddeus said. “Claire and Donnie always come through.”

  “But—”

  “Always.”

  Thaddeus scurried away, leaving Alÿs huddled under the eaves where the light but steady rain could not reach. Behind her, in the tavern, she heard angry voices. The angry voices were followed up by angry thumps, then a crash of breaking glass. She shivered, wishing for her ermine-fur coat. She usually preferred to go on her adventures on more comfortable days and head back to the Palace if the weather grew too unpleasant.

  Thaddeus materialized by her elbow, so silently that she yelped with surprise. “There are a couple of the Cardinal’s private guard at the front,” he said. “Nobody around the back. We can go in the service entrance without being seen. Try to be quiet, okay?”

  They scooted across the street, evading the water flowing along the gutter. In this part of town, the storm drains were particularly good, and hardly anyone dumped raw sewage into the streets. Whatever else you could say about them, the clerical classes of London had access to a better class of smell.

  They soon made it to the service door, tucked around the back of one of the bell towers. From the other side, they could already hear the chords from the pipe organ signaling the start of Mass.

  Thaddeus put his finger to his lips and swung the door open. Inside was darkness. He closed the door behind them, and they stood for a moment, letting their eyes adjust.

  Clockwork machinery filled the bottom of the bell tower. Long cables and thin metal rods ascended into the darkness above. A huge toothed wheel, mounted horizontally atop a large metal box, turned slowly. Its surface was studded with holes, some of which were filled with metal pegs about the size of Alÿs’s thumb.

  Thaddeus quietly opened the inside door and ushered Alÿs through. He closed the door noiselessly. They were in the vestibule of the cathedral, once an open-air courtyard, enclosed with marble walls hung with enormous windows when the bell towers were built. Ahead of them, the tall, narrow doors led into the nave.

  Thaddeus opened the door just wide enough to allow them to slip through. Inside, the church was less than a third full, with worshippers crowded together in pews that stood in neat ranks before the altar.

  During the renovation, the church had been outfitted with electric arc lights inside as well as out. The lights over the altar were burning, casting a brilliant glow around the Cardinal, resplendent in his gold-trimmed red cape. The rest of the lights were dark, creating dramatic shadows that filled the aisles along the sides of the nave. Dozens of tiny candles in small glass containers flickered in the gloom, creating uncertain pools of yellow light around the statues of the Blessed Virgin and Christ the Savior.

  Thaddeus melted into the shadows. Alÿs watched him fade, seeming to merge into the darkness until he was part of it. “How do you—”

  He reached out and drew her into the shadow.

  “I will remind you, I am a Lady of—” she started. Thaddeus put his finger to his lips again. He crept forward, flitting silently and effortlessly from shadow to shadow, keeping the pillars between himself and the Cardinal. Alÿs crossed herself and followed, feeling loud and clumsy by comparison.

  Bit by bit, darting quickly from the cover of one column to the next, Thaddeus moved forward, keeping always in the shadow at the outside edge of the nave. Alÿs did her best to emulate him. When they had worked their way about halfway down the length of the church, Thaddeus paused, his back to one of the enormous round pillars. The pews closest to him were all vacant; the cathedral usually wasn’t filled for a midweek Mass under the best of circumstances, and tonight a lot of folks seemed far more interested in whatever was going on out in Highpole Street than in the disposition of their immortal souls.

  “What now?” Thaddeus whispered.

  “What?” Alÿs whispered back. “Why are you asking me?”

  “This was your plan, remember?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a plan,” Alÿs said. “More of an intention, really.”

  Thaddeus shook his head. “We can’t exactly walk up to the Cardinal right now. So what do you want to do?”

  “Actually, I can walk right up to the Cardinal,” Alÿs said. “I am going to sit in that pew. When it is time to take Communion, I can tell him it’s me and I need to talk to him. Nobody will look twice at me. I look like a boy, remember? What? What is it?”

  Thaddeus was gesturing urgently, pointing toward the worshippers seated in the pews ahead of them. He jerked his thumb toward the congregation, then waved his hand in front of his throat.

  “What?” Alÿs said. “I don’t understand.”

  Thaddeus jerked his thumb frantically toward the seated worshippers.

  “I still don’t—oh!” Alÿs pressed back against the cold marble, willing the shadows to swallow her. That was unmistakably the broad form of Max the Axe, seated not thirty feet away. She scanned the seated figures. Yes, there was Julianus, several rows ahead, toward the center of the throng. They both seemed to be paying more attention to the other members of the congregation than to the sermon.

  “Now what?” Alÿs whispered.

  Thaddeus shrugged. He jerked his head toward the exit.

  Alÿs shook her head. “No. We wait here until after the service. When they leave, we’ll talk to the Cardinal.”

  “You want us to wait here and hide until the end of Mass?” Thaddeus’s tone was incredulous.

  “Yes! They’re not looking for you. As long as I keep my head down, they won’t recognize me. Just relax and try to stay out of sight, okay?

  ✦

  “It took you long enough, Mister Levy,” Commander Skarbunket said.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Rabbi Rosen was very interested in talking to me, sir. We had a long conversation.”

  “About what?”

  “About you, sir. I—” He gulped. “You are known to the people around here.”

  “I imagine I would be doing a rather poor job if I weren’t, Mister Levy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Levy nodded vigorously. “It’s just…well, you are seen as a friend to the people of Highpole.”

  Night had well and truly set. The candles guttered in their paper lanterns along Highpole Street. Commander Skarbunket had already made a complete circuit of the district, north to south and back north again. The rest of the police were still there, patrolling in twos and threes, but there was nothing to patrol. Everyone had evaporated, driven off by the rain and the lack of violent confrontation. Skarbunket’s boots squished on the wet cobblestone. Other than policemen, nobody was in sight.

  “T
hank you, Mister Levy. That means a lot to me.”

  “And he says to tell you, sir, that you have friends here too. People who have seen you stand up for them many times, sir. It has not gone unnoticed. You are respected here, sir. People are still scared. There are a lot of folks wondering what’s going on. They are looking to us, to you, sir, for answers.”

  “A question on my mind as well, Mister Levy. I will admit, and I say this without making any statement about her guilt or innocence, I will admit that I would very much like to know where the Lady Alÿs is.”

  “So would a lot of people here. Do you believe the newspapers, sir? About someone in Highpole kidnapping her?”

  “Not even for a moment, Mister Levy.”

  “So what’s going on then, sir?”

  “An excellent question, Mister Levy. Keep asking those. They will either make your career or destroy it.”

  “No offense, sir, but that sounds awfully cynical.”

  “Thank you, Mister Levy. None taken. Ah, and here is our Officer Bristol,” he said, nodding to the man jogging toward them, puffing and out of breath. “May I presume, Mister Bristol, from your tightness of mouth and the considerable quantity of dirt I see on your shirt, that our ‘could be nothing’ was not, in fact, nothing?”

  “It was something alright, sir. Rented flat full of enough black-powder bombs to take down yonder mosque, I’ll allow.”

  “Hm. Did you apprehend the owner?”

  “No sir. Nobody in sight. Just a flat full of black-powder bombs.”

  “Really.” Skarbunket folded his arms. “That is most curious. Do go on.”

  “I made enquiries, sir. The locals were…less unhelpful than usual.”

  “That’s an interesting number of negatives.”

  “It seems the renter wasn’t much liked. Quiet, they said. Kept to himself. Didn’t talk to anyone. And…”

  “Yes?”

  “Apparently he was arrested this morning. Or so the locals say.”

  “Even more curious. Not by us?”

  “No, sir. Definitely not by us.”

  “That doesn’t leave very many people,” Skarbunket said.

  “No sir. Nobody seemed to know who did the arresting, though.”

  “So they were not very helpful.”

  “Like I said, sir, less unhelpful than usual, but still a bit reticent.”

  “And Mister Levy here was just telling me how much the people of Highpole like and respect us.”

  “Oh, that they do, sir,” Bristol said. “Doesn’t change the fact we’re outsiders. Outsiders you like are still outsiders, come the end of the day.”

  Skarbunket squinted up at the rainy night sky. “Which it is, literally. And what of the explosives? Please tell me you didn’t simply leave them where they were.”

  “Safely removed from the flat, sir, courtesy of animates rented from the day labor place over on Jasper Street.”

  “One of the few times the local laborers won’t complain about their jobs being encroached, I imagine. What did you do with them?”

  “I briefly considered storing them at the bottom of the Thames, sir,” Bristol said, “but I reckoned you might like to inventory them for evidence. So I had them loaded into a paddy wagon, sir. Said paddy wagon currently being in the warehouse off Yeardling Street down by the river, on the theory that if it explodes sky-high, we won’t lose anything but a sodding big building full of files. Win-win, either way.”

  “How did you get it there, if I may ask?”

  Bristol blinked in surprise. “Why, I drove it there, sir. How else?”

  “You drove a wagon filled with black-powder bombs to a warehouse in the middle of the night? Sometimes I marvel at how your mind works, Mister Bristol. Remind me to recommend you for a commendation for bravery. Did you get a description of the lodger?”

  “Oh, yes, that I did, sir. And that’s where it gets even more curious, sir.”

  “Oh? I didn’t think that was possible. Bombs and nobody to throw them isn’t curious enough?”

  “Well, it’s just that, from the description, sir…I think we’ve met him. At the ironworkers’ shop, sir. The suspect in the hat-theft case, sir.”

  “Well. Well, well, well.” Skarbunket sat back on his heels. “Isn’t that interesting?”

  22

  “What do we do?” Thaddeus said. At the altar, the Cardinal, flanked by two priests in red, was delivering the homily. He spoke in English, the better for the faithful to understand him. Shortly after the Schism, the French Catholic Church had broken with tradition and begun giving Mass in whatever language the congregation was most likely to speak, under the notion that it was easier to save souls if the souls you were trying to save knew what you were on about. The Italians, who reasoned that if salvation was so valuable you really ought to be willing to work for it, continued to address the flock in Latin. This was just one of the many differences of opinion between the two Popes, and much blood had been spilled in their attempts to reach a meeting of the minds on the matter.

  Tonight’s homily concerned, apparently, the entwined sins of pride, ambition, and greed. Thaddeus was only half paying attention, but he got the general impression the Cardinal was generally disposed against them.

  “Let’s sit in the back and wait,” Alÿs said.

  “But—”

  “Nobody will look twice at us. Nobody knows you, and nobody will recognize me. Just keep your head down and don’t act suspicious.”

  “Don’t act suspicious? What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, act casual! Lurking in the shadows is not casual.”

  “Who’s lurking?” Thaddeus said. “I’m not lurking! I’m casual! Look at how casual I am. I’m just standing here casually by this pillar. Hey!”

  Alÿs had already moved into a pew. Thaddeus chased after her. He slid, as casually as he could manage under the circumstances, into the pew beside her.

  The priests brought two covered silver trays, each trimmed with gold, toward the altar. The Cardinal began a prayer. The entire room, save for a hooded figure in the middle of the congregation, knelt. Alÿs crossed herself, lips moving in a silent prayer.

  “When do we—oof!” Thaddeus said, the last part a rebuttal to Alÿs’s elbow in his ribs.

  The congregation rose. Operating automatically, Alÿs rose with them. Thaddeus put his hand on her arm. “Stay here!” he hissed.

  One by one, the worshippers lined up to receive communion. Thaddeus and Alÿs remained where they were. A handful of other people did the same. Julianus turned, scanning the crowd. Alÿs ducked her head, hands clasped in front of her. Thaddeus’s heart skipped a beat. He held his breath until that roving stare turned away from them.

  One by one, the people accepted the bread and wine. One by one, they returned to their seats. Julianus scanned the crowd once more, his gaze lingering for a moment on Thaddeus and Alÿs. Thaddeus felt his knuckles crack, so tight was his grip on the pew in front of him.

  He relaxed slightly when everyone was sitting once more. They went through the motions of the rest of the service, Thaddeus preoccupied, Alÿs rather more pious.

  The Cardinal gave the concluding rite. The pipe organ played. The choir sang. The Cardinal, flanked by his attending priests, left the altar.

  Thaddeus heaved an enormous sigh of relief. He’d been to many a tense Mass, but never had he so longed for it to be over—not even when he knew there would be cakes afterward. He smiled and turned toward Alÿs. “We can…”

  His heart froze. Julianus was standing near the front of the church, looking right at him. Their eyes met. Thaddeus forced himself to smile. Act natural! he told himself. But what was natural, anyway? “Natural” for Thaddeus Mudstone was suspicious as hell, because he was naturally a shady character. His encounters with the law usually followed a simple dynamic: he was
doing, or had done, or was about to do, something that was illegal, against civic order, or both; and they, naturally, wanted to stop him from doing it, or apprehend him, or both.

  That was the natural order of things. The part where he just sat there without running was precisely the opposite of natural.

  What did normal people who weren’t criminals do, anyway? Thaddeus had no idea. Did they wave? Had he seen people wave to the Queen’s Guard? Thaddeus wasn’t sure if he could wave. And didn’t that mean the Guardsmen were supposed to come over? He could not remember a time in his life when he’d ever wanted a guard to come closer. Was that something ordinary people did?

  He ventured a small nod. That seemed safe enough.

  The Guardsman appeared to accept the nod as some kind of commoner slang for “I’m not a criminal, please don’t come arrest me,” and looked away, bored. For the second time in only a few seconds, Thaddeus ventured another enormous sigh of relief.

  Maybe the evening was going to be okay after all.

  “Are you alright?” Alÿs asked. “You look a bit shaken.”

  “Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Guards make me nervous, that’s all,” Thaddeus said.

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Why?” Thaddeus exclaimed. He looked around, eyes wild, then lowered his voice. “Why? Why do you think? You know what I do for a living, right?”

  “Besides jump out of airships in the middle of the night? No, I don’t. What do you do, exactly? My friend Eleanor is convinced you must be an Italian spy.”

  Thaddeus laughed. “An Italian spy would probably have more money than I do. Do Italian spies make a lot of money? Where do you go to be an Italian spy? You don’t really have to eat babies, do you? I might take the job if there’s no baby eating.”

  “Shh!” Alÿs said. “Keep your voice down. Let’s go.”

  They started toward the front of the cathedral, then stopped. The worshippers were thinning out. Here and there, people lit candles in front of the statues or remained at the pews in silent meditation, but Max and Julianus were striding with a purpose toward the Cardinal’s chambers.