Everything she did, no matter how good her intentions, turned out wrong. Perhaps she needed to leave this place. She could go back to the streets where she belonged.
Except she didn’t feel like she belonged there, not without Chaff. He had been her family for so much of her life. Her one constant friend and companion, even in her darkest moments. Until now.
Her mother was here, but their relationship was tenuous at best. Years of abandonment didn’t go away with a few heartfelt chinwags. There was no good reason to stay here and nowhere else to go. Nowhere to go and no one to go with.
Someone walked up behind her and the rain stopped hitting her, pattering instead on the fabric of the umbrella they held out over her head.
“Come inside, Kitten,” Crimson urged. “If not for your sake then for Macak’s. The poor creature has been yowling at the door for the better part of an hour wanting to come see you regardless of the rain.”
“I don’t deserve him,” she muttered.
“Oh, bollocks,” Crimson snapped. “Get off your arse and get inside or I’ll drag you there myself.”
Maeko stood, shivering with cold, and let Crimson lead her back into the manor where Macak was indeed waiting at the door. He hopped up on a side table and up to her shoulders as she walked past, his claws digging in through her wet clothes while he got his balance. The pain was sharp. Welcome. She felt a fraction less alone as he pushed his head against her cheek. Perhaps only a cat-sized fraction less alone, but it was a start.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maeko hid away in an upstairs corner sitting room for much of the next few days, a quiet room used so rarely that sheets covered most of the furniture to keep the dust off. It was enough for her to know that Crimson and Ash weren’t locked up anymore. She didn’t need to talk to them or to anyone. Besides, it was painfully clear that Chaff didn’t want to talk to her and Ash didn’t seem interested in her company either. She refused to talk to Crimson beyond asking that the woman leave her alone and not tell anyone where she was. Crimson insisted on bringing her food now and then, but consented to leave her with only Macak for company outside of that.
It wasn’t so hard to appreciate the affection the cat gave her. The purring warm ball of black and white fur with his one metal leg was her solitary success. She’d kept him out of Thaddeus’s hands at the very least. There was very little doubt that the horrible man would have treated him badly. After all, Thaddeus had murdered his own brother. She didn’t see him extending any great kindness to a cat.
Then again, Thaddeus wasn’t likely to do much worse than his brother had by amputating the poor cat’s leg to experiment with the false appendage in the first place.
And there was the rub. After everything she’d done to help Lucian Folesworth, after coming to trust and even like the seemingly kind and generous man, he had turned out to be no better than the rest of them. Perhaps his cruelty had a nobler purpose in trying to help people like Captain Garrett’s younger son who’d lost a leg in an accident. Did that make it all right to torture another living being?
She stared at the gleaming metal leg with its elegant engravings while she stroked Macak’s fur, trying to recapture the fascination the device held for her the first time she saw it in that grimy alleyway. The wonder was gone, replaced by upsetting disgust for the cruelty that led to him having the thing.
Was there nothing good in this world?
Macak purred and shifted, wrapping one fuzzy paw over his eyes. One ear twitched as he drifted on the edge of sleep in her cat-warmed lap.
Lucian was dead. Macak had adjusted to his modification, even if it had been unnecessary. Perhaps she needed to adjust to her situation as well.
Would Chaff adjust to his?
Macak made a small sound of protest and she quickly opened the hand that had begun clenching on his fur. His big eyes regarded her for a moment, perhaps deciding if she could be trusted not to commit the infraction again, then he settled once more and she stroked him in gentle apology.
Her thoughts turned to the battleship under construction in Drakes underground workshop. A device built for destruction. Would they also use the schematics she’d stolen from Lucian’s flat to build weapons as Thaddeus was doing? More misery that she’d helped make possible. How many innocents would pay with their lives for this war between the Literati and the Pirates? What price was too high?
She tasted the coppery tang of blood and realized she’d been chewing on her lip too hard. The pain was crisp, refreshing. Something other than the icy hollow in her chest for her to focus on.
Was there a way to stop this madness? Could the Bobbies do something? Maybe meeting with Em was an opportunity. She couldn’t make the past mistakes right, but maybe she could help stop this thing before it got worse. If the Bobbies knew what was going on at the new Literati prison, mightn’t they intervene?
She startled when the door opened and Crimson entered with a plate of food. Her mouth flooded with saliva, and her stomach growled loud enough that Crimson smirked as she set the plate on the small table next to her.
“Want some company while you eat, Kitten?”
“No.”
The amused smirk faded. “You can’t take on the world all alone.”
She looked down at her lap where Macak had lifted his head to peer with wide-eyed interest at the contents of the plate. He sniffed the air.
“I’m not.”
Crimson pursed her lips and sat in another chair. “Macak is a wonderful companion, but you need more than a cat in your life.”
Maeko picked up the fork and transferred a bite of game hen to her mouth to avoid having to say anything. While she chewed, she pulled off another piece and offered it to Macak who made short work of it and glanced up at her in hope for more. She couldn’t stop a grin, knowing that if she looked away for a moment he would steal what he was so politely asking for while he had her attention.
It’d been a while since she’d had to go hungry or even find food for herself. It was a nice way to live. One she should avoid getting too comfortable with. Whatever happened from this point, it was becoming clear that she didn’t belong here.
“Emeraude’s talking with the Bobbies to convince them to investigate Mr. Folesworth in connection with the commissioner’s murder and the airship explosion, but Drake doesn’t want them getting involved in things too deeply yet. He’s afraid they’ll tie things up with their politics and procedures and Thaddeus will have more than enough time to develop his weapons and start wiping out the Pirates. According to your Officer Wells, the new Literati prison is a development and testing ground for numerous weapons including a variety of modified prosthetic limbs intended to transform prisoners into deadly Literati soldiers.”
Maeko thought of the dead bludger with the crude false arm who had attacked her—and of Drake’s far more refined mechanical arm with its hidden gun. What would happen if they began equipping prisoners with such things and putting them to work for the Lits? Would the prisoners really work for them or would they just go rogue and start killing whomever they pleased? How could the Lits hope to control men who had already proven their willingness to break the law?
She began to feel nauseous, but she made herself keep eating so she wouldn’t have to say anything, passing more nibbles of game hen to a very appreciative Macak as she ate.
“Drake is pushing us to finish the battleship faster so he can use it to attack the facility and put an end to the development.”
“But…” Maeko swallowed the suddenly tasteless mouthful of food when Crimson frowned at her for starting to speak with her mouthful. She choked it down around a rising sense of alarm before continuing. “There are innocent people there too, like Captain Garrett.”
“He knows that. We all know that, but the number of people who stand to suffer if they aren’t stopped quickly is far greater.”
“So, you think Drake’s making the right decision?”
Crimson didn’t answer. She stared out the win
dow, her jaw clenching and unclenching fretfully. The light coming in from outside backlit her profile, emphasizing her strong nose. Somehow, it made her look more fiercely beautiful. A woman ready to take on the opposition using whatever means necessary.
“There must be another way.” Maeko prompted.
“I don’t know, Kitten. I see his point. We might be better off to take action now and deal with the consequences. The Bobbies are going to follow procedure and, right now, they’re far from convinced that the wrong Mr. Folesworth survived the airship explosion. By the time they’re ready to make any move against him, assuming they ever get to that point, we’ll all be holding up stones.”
Maeko winced inwardly. Holding up a stone was Chaff’s favorite slang for death. She didn’t want to think about him right now with his bloodshot eyes and broken body. “Why bother meeting with Em at all if we’re not going to work with the Bobbies?”
“Anything we can give her now to help push them toward doubting Mr. Folesworth and beginning an investigation will only serve our cause in the aftermath. I can’t talk Drake out of this, but maybe we can find a way to keep him out of prison once the dust settles.”
Maeko sneered. “He refused to help me. Why should I help him?”
“He refused because he didn’t want anyone put needlessly at risk and you turned around and stole his airship.”
“You helped us. And it isn’t like he didn’t get the blasted thing back unharmed. Bloody dodger.” She growled the last convincingly enough that it startled Macak who leapt from her lap and scurried under a chair in the corner. His departure lent potency to the hollow inside her and she drew in a deep breath, trying to fill the gap with something.
Crimson stared after the cat, green eyes flashing with anger. Her slender fingers gripped the arms of her chair.
Maeko braced for the verbal lashing she saw lurking behind the irked expression, but it didn’t come. In the silence, Macak crept out from under the chair and walked toward Crimson, his steps tentative. Just out of her reach, he stopped and offered an inquisitive meow, his ears flicking forward hopefully. Crimson’s hands slowly relaxed. Macak jumped up in her lap and her eyes softened as he arched into the hand she ran over his back.
Cat magic.
Despite a twinge of jealousy, Maeko appreciated the way he’d deflected the woman’s anger. There were enough people upset with her. It wasn’t productive to add more to the list.
She picked at her meal in cautious silence while Crimson relented to Macak’s insistent prodding for affection.
“Will you at least talk to Em? See what you can do to get the Bobbies on the right track to exposing Thaddeus while still keeping them out of our way long enough to take him and his Literati cohort down. Pirates and innocent folks are dying on the streets every week now in clashes with the Lits. It won’t be long before it’s a daily occurrence. Do this for me and for your mother and all of the other people whose lives are at risk if their weapons development isn’t stopped.”
And who’s going to stop Drake? Maeko blinked at the sudden stinging in her eyes and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. A cloak of dread landed heavy on her shoulders with the gesture.
“Thank you, Kitten. I owe you one. Your escorts will come for you tomorrow evening and take you into the city to meet with her.”
My guards. Maeko pushed around the rest of the food on her plate and said nothing.
Crimson stroked the cat for a few silent minutes more, then she pushed him gently off and went to the door. Macak moved over to Maeko’s lap, her earlier infraction upon his calm already forgiven.
“Oh,” Crimson paused with her hand on the door handle. “Someone else wanted to talk to you.”
She opened the door then and Maeko saw her mother waiting there. Her chest tightened, but she said nothing as the two women traded places. She focused on stroking Macak, making amends. The cat was happy to curl back down in her lap.
Tomoe entered the room and sat in the chair Crimson had vacated only a moment ago. Maeko found herself wondering if the seat was still warm.
The door had barely clicked shut when she spoke. “You are going out again tomorrow? To help them?”
Maeko nodded, once more finding that she didn’t quite trust herself to speak.
“You should know that I think you are very brave. The things you have done to help the Pirates, to help Ash and his family, to rescue your friend…”
“Chaff,” she offered.
“Yes.”
She folded her fine hands in her lap as she often did and gazed at Macak, a soft, sad smile curving her lips, pulling on some of her scars. Maeko marveled at how she was still so beautiful and somehow put off such an air of serenity in defiance of her scars.
Macak butted his head into Maeko’s palm. His purr was loud in the silence.
“How he loves you,” Tomoe murmured, smiling at the cat, then she looked at Maeko. “How I love you.”
A tear came from nowhere and slid down Maeko’s cheek, she swallowed against the sudden sting in her throat.
“You are remarkable, Mae. You are strong and brave and sometimes foolhardy, but so often in an effort to protect those you care for. I wish I would have been there for you, but I do not believe I could have done better than you have done for yourself. I think you should know that I am very proud of you.”
More tears streamed down Maeko’s cheeks now. Almost as though he knew what she was going to do before she did, Macak pushed into her hand once more then hopped down from her lap. She got up from her chair and Tomoe stood with her. Maeko stepped into her mother’s open arms and buried her face in her clothes, squeezing her eyes shut.
“I love you, Mum,” she choked out. “I’m sorry… for everything.”
Tomoe’s arms closed around her, providing a sense of comfort and safety she almost felt guilty indulging in.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I should never have considered letting you go. I have always loved you, Mae, and I always will.”
#
They would be coming to get her soon to leave for the city. That sense of dread that had come over her when she agreed to meet Em had only intensified. Her meeting with her mother had healed some more wounds, but had somehow made the feeling worse, as though she were reconciling before leaving. It had also prompted her to this place, standing outside of the door to Chaff’s room. She’d tried to catch Ash as well, but no one seemed to know where he’d gotten off to. Now she reached for the door with Macak draped over her shoulders and two expressionless guards staring on.
A large part of her wanted to simply go. She could deal with this when she got back from the city. Still, that sense of dread prodded her on. It needed to be now. There were things that needed saying and there was no time like the present. She told herself that it was simply because talking to him now would limit the conversation and they would both have time to think about things while she was in town. That didn’t feel like the truth though. It felt, again, like reconciling before saying goodbye.
The room was dark, but this time, when she lit the gas lamp, Chaff was standing by a window staring out. His face was drawn, with pain perhaps, or some deeper distress. His color was better though. He was healing. Recovering from the treatment of the Lits and the surgery. He didn’t look at her when she came in. Instead, he gazed down at the metal hand of the prosthesis and closed it into a fist.
“Are you feeling better?” The words came out with a tremor.
“Why are you here?”
She swallowed and said, “I wanted to see you.”
His lip tightened in a bitter smirk as he held out his arms to either side. “Well, have a look at me? I’m a scarred, disfigured street rat. A freak. I’m nothing.”
She drew a deep breath, taking a little comfort from the cat on her shoulders, and barreled ahead. “Yes, Chaff, I have looked at you. I've looked at you a lot lately, in ways I never expected to look at you, and you know what I see. I see someone I love. I see someone who has risk
ed himself time and time again to protect me. I see someone who has been an integral part of my past. A person who helped me become who I am now. I see someone I want in my life, now and always."
He stood there, staring at the hand. Opening and closing it. He was turned away enough that she couldn’t quite read his expression. He said nothing.
“Thank you for everything you have ever done for me.”
He still said nothing.
“I love you. That’s all.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat and turned. Would he speak now?
She grabbed the door handle.
Now?
She opened the door.
Nothing.
She stepped through and shut it behind her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Em leaned in the door of the coach, the men’s bowler hat she wore pulled low on her brow, shadowing her eyes. Adding the hat with the long frock coat and her short hair, she could almost pass as a slender man. She glanced at Maeko and then gave a hard look to the two guards. “What’s this about?”
“Just a formality, Miss,” one of the men replied.
“Tell Drake he can shove his formality up his arse for all I care. I’m not talking to her with you two bludgers in here. If he doesn’t trust me, he doesn’t need to work with me.”
Em spun on her heel and started to walk away.
Maeko clutched Macak to her chest with one hand and popped up from the seat. One of the guards threw an arm out between her and the door and she gave him a withering look before calling after the detective.
“Wait!”
The Girl and the Clockwork Crossfire Page 10
