The White City

by John Claude Bemis

  “Gather up,” Malley said as he slapped a hand to the pommel of a cannon. “Technically speaking, these smashers are carronades. No good at shooting long-range, but great at tearing things up in closer quarters. Start rolling shot over here,” he said to Ray, Conker, and Redfeather. “Si, get those rammers down from the walls. Marisol and Jolie, see those trunks. They’ve got gunpowder cartridges. Start stacking them by the cannons.”

  As everyone set to work, a voice cried out thinly from above, carried by the wind, “Hail! Prepare to be boarded.”

  Rolling a cannonball across the floor, Ray caught a peek out the gunport to see a man standing on the bow of the nearest steamer. He held a megaphone and wore no hat, as the whipping wind would surely have carried it away. But he was dressed in a black plain-cut suit.

  The Pirate Queen’s voice carried without such a device. “Under whose jurisdiction?”

  The man raised the megaphone again to his mouth. “The Pinkerton Detective Agency, under the ordinances of the state of Illinois and the mayor of Chicago.”

  “We’re not on land, Pinkerton!” the Pirate Queen roared. “You’ve no authority out here.”

  “You’re suspected of harboring criminals,” the man continued. “Prepare to be boarded.”

  “Harboring criminals,” said one of the pirates adjusting the turnscrew on the back of a smasher. “Ha! We’ve got nothing but criminals on board.”

  But Ray didn’t laugh. These were not ordinary Pinkertons. These were agents of the Gog.

  Malley and the other pirates loaded the cannons, showing the lubbers how to ram home the shot with rope-padded rammers.

  As Ray handed Malley a parchment cartridge, he looked out the port. Two of the steamers were veering together to cut off the Pirate Queen’s escape. A third remained at a distance. The last, the one with the agent who had hailed them on its bow, moved closer to the Snapdragon’s starboard side. Men with rifles began to line up against their railing.

  “Full steam!” the Pirate Queen bellowed.

  The Snapdragon lurched, accelerating through the choppy waves toward the merging steamers. Gunfire opened from the agents, pinging off the metal plates of the hull. Pirates whooped and screeched from the other rooms as they rushed up on deck to return fire.

  A squeal of twisting metal sounded. Ray and the others held on to the cannons to keep from getting thrown. The Snapdragon trembled as it broke its way through the steamers.

  “Open the hatches!” Malley called. As Ray dropped the latch on the nearest gun-port hatch, he saw the vessels pushed aside, their paddle wheels mangled by the reinforced bow of the Snapdragon.

  “Run out!” Malley shouted.

  Ray wasn’t sure what he meant, but as the pirates gathered around the cannons, grabbing onto the rope tackles attached on their sides, he and the others caught on that they were pushing the heavy cannons out through the ports.

  Gunfire from the agents began to pepper the gun ports.

  “You lubbers take cover,” Malley ordered.

  “Javidos is really going to hate this,” Marisol said, as she got behind an overturned bed and nestled the snake against her stomach.

  Jolie grabbed Ray’s hand and pulled him to the safety of the floor. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Now’s not the best—” Ray began.

  But Jolie had already continued, “My sisters are held captive by the Gog.”

  “Ready, boys!” Mally shouted.

  With all the gunfire and chaos ensuing, Ray struggled to train his attention on what she was saying. “What … how do you know?”

  “Two of my sisters found me in the lake,” Jolie said. “They said Cleoma never made it to the Terrebonne. She never brought the healing waters.”

  “Fire!” Malley shouted. The cannons blasted, filling the room with deafening noise and the smell of burnt gunpowder.

  As the smoke cleared, Malley peered out a hatch. “What!” he growled. “The smashers ain’t smashed nothing on them boats.”

  “Some sort of heavy reinforcement,” another pirate said.

  Malley scowled. “Reload. This time with canister shot.”

  As Ray helped pull the cannon back from the gun port, he called across the barrel to Jolie. “Do your sisters know what happened to Cleoma?” he asked.

  “No,” she said as Malley reloaded the cannon. “The others grew sick, all the ones who had ventured into the Darkness. They have been drawn up the Mississippi, up here to Chicago. The two who found me—Ediet and Yvonnie—they were not sick. They followed the sisters to where they disappeared in the Gog’s hall. But Ediet and Yvonnie could not stop them, and they were afraid to enter—”

  The Snapdragon’s hull resounded with a boom, and Ray fell backward into Redfeather. Piglet screamed down the gangway, “What just hit us?”

  “Wasn’t it a cannon?” Malley called.

  The door to the engine room below opened, and a pirate stuck his head out. “Something’s on the hull.”

  “On?” Malley said quizzically.

  Conker was the first to his feet, racing through the door and down the stairs to the noisy engine room below. As Ray came down behind Redfeather, he saw a group of pirates—the four firemen and the lone engineer who operated the Snapdragon’s steam engine—staring at one of the sloped walls.

  “What is it?” Conker asked.

  “Shh,” a coal-blackened pirate said. “Listen.”

  Small clanks and scraping sounded through the wall.

  “That’s below the waterline, isn’t it?” Ray asked, trying to understand what was scratching at the side of the steamer.

  “Aye,” the engineer said. “Iron reinforcement over a wooden hull. Good for protecting against hundred-ten pounders, but whatever that is ain’t from a gun.”

  “Can’t be a person neither,” another pirate said. “Hit the ship too hard—”

  A shrill grinding noise began. Ray covered his ears and backed away a step along with Redfeather.

  “Something’s drilling through!” Conker shouted, looking around at the pirates. “Have you got weapons?”

  The pirates gathered their wits and drew revolvers and cudgels from their belts. The whining got higher and higher in pitch.

  “It’s coming!” someone shouted just as a section of the hull, a circle of metal-plated wood, shot across the room, clanging against the engine and nearly hitting several of the pirates.

  Water gushed in. It struck their legs, and had the engineer not grabbed Ray by the arm, he would have fallen. Steam hissed as the water hit the blazing firebox. The room was rapidly filling up with lake water.

  Conker had ahold of Redfeather, tugging him up from the gush of water. “Get up above!” he shouted.

  “What’s that?” a pirate squeaked.

  In the water blasting through the hole, a circle of spinning saw blades emerged. But then the saw was drawn back as a hinged case covered the blades. In its place, nearly as big as the hole, was now a metal face made of brass, which looked to Ray like some catfish or grotesque bottom-dwelling amphibian. A series of metal whiskers sprang from its face, catching on the floor and engine and flexing to propel the clockwork beast forward into the center of the deck. It thrashed with a long tapered tail, smashing a pair of the pirates up against the ceiling. They fell into the water and disappeared.

  The remaining trio of pirates opened fire with their pistols. Bullets scattered and sparked off the brass scales, and had the others not taken cover, someone might have been shot. Realizing their mistake, the pirates changed course, throwing aside their pistols and attacking with cudgels. Conker grabbed the coal shovel and swung it sideways like an ax, chopping through the tentacle-like whiskers that were pulling the creature closer and closer to the far wall.

  “It’s going to drill through the other side!” Si shouted.

  With half its whiskers gone, the creature thrashed, trying to hit Conker and the pirates with the crescent fins on its tail. Conker caught the tail, encircling his arms arou
nd it to stop it from swinging. With a grunt, he slipped the tip through the opening and pushed. Ray sloshed through the water to join Redfeather and the pirates as they helped. The clockwork beast fought but could not keep Conker and the others from forcing it into the hole, stifling the spray of water gushing in.

  “You’ve got it!” Redfeather cried. “Keep pushing.”

  As Conker leaned his weight into the creature’s face, a clanking of hinges sounded. The mouth began to open. Conker fought to keep ahold of the monster while shifting his hands away from the rapidly widening mouth.

  As the hinges parted wider, a circular set of jagged teeth extended. Once fully exposed, they were as wide across as the fish’s body.

  “Conker—!” Ray began to warn.

  But Conker was already jumping aside, grabbing as many of the others as he could to pull them away. Ray leaped just as the circular teeth started spinning.

  Released from their hold, the Gog’s clockwork fish shot across the deck, propelled by the water pressure behind it. It hit the far wall, and the drilling teeth began immediately grinding their way through the hull. Water once more poured into the engine room.

  “It’s too late!” the engineer shouted from the stairs. “There’s no stopping it. The ship’s already sinking.”

  As Ray swam with the others toward the stairs and made his way up to the gangway, he could feel the Snapdragon already tipping to one side. Piglet was coming down from the upper deck. “What hit us?”

  “Would you believe me if I said it was a fish?” Redfeather quipped.

  Piglet gave a quick frown of confusion and then barked, “We’re sinking. Time to get out of here. Follow me!”

  Jolie and the others were abandoning the cannons. As Ray reached her, he grabbed her hand and crouched to take cover from the gunfire as they came out on the deck. The skies were an ominous green-black. Heavy, whipping rain lashed across the deck. Pirates were ducking behind the bulwarks, firing rifles at the two steamers bearing down on either side. The other pair of steamers that the Snapdragon had rammed were far behind now, their broken paddle wheels no longer able to propel them. Gunmen returned fire from the vessels, outnumbering the Pirate Queen’s crew five to one.

  The deck lurched to one side, taking on waves. Piglet lowered a dinghy from the davit. “Get in! The Pirate Queen ordered you six off first.”

  “But if you’re boarded, you’ll need us to fight!” Conker roared.

  “You can’t be captured!” Piglet shouted over the groaning of the sinking steamer. “Captain’s orders. You don’t have the Nine Pound Hammer, and this is a gunfight. We’ll hold them off as best we can. Now get!”

  Marisol climbed into the dinghy first, followed by Redfeather. “She’s right!” Si said, pulling Conker by his hand. “Get in.”

  The Snapdragon’s cannons fired again, but with the sharp angle the sinking steamer was tilting, the shot fired high over the pilothouse of the nearest of the pursuing ships. Then a cannon blast tore into the Snapdragon’s aft hull, throwing splinters of metal and broken boards into howling pirates.

  Conker snarled as he followed Si into the dinghy.

  Mister Lamprey was roaring orders from behind overturned boats on the deck. Big Jimmie, Malley, and the others were firing with their rifles, blunderbusses, and scatterguns. The glass had been blown out in the pilothouse, and the Pirate Queen struggled to steer her sinking ship.

  The black-suited agent called through the megaphone, “Turn over the Nine Pound Hammer and your ship might still be salvaged!”

  “What did he say?” Conker barked.

  Ray looked back toward the steamer in confusion.

  “Hurry!” Piglet shouted at him. Jolie was already in the dinghy. He was the last still on deck, and as he started down, he saw a small boat ahead, bobbing among the rocking waves off the bow.

  “Now!” Piglet said, grabbing Ray’s arm.

  A man was rowing the small boat toward the Snapdragon.

  “What’s that?” Ray said.

  Piglet looked up. “Some fisherman too stupid to get out of this storm.” She shoved Ray, and he toppled into Conker’s arms in the dinghy. Redfeather rowed them out from the Snapdragon, trying the keep the pirate’s sinking vessel between them and the line of sight of the Gog’s men.

  “They’re done for!” Si shouted.

  Ray looked for the little rowboat, but the wind—which was already heavy—rose up, throwing water in his eyes. The others in the dinghy staggered as it struck them too. The strange wind blew harder and harder until Ray braced himself in the bottom of the leaping dinghy. He looked back to see the pirates cease their firing to grab onto railings and brace themselves against the force of the cyclonic wind.

  “What is happening?” Jolie shouted into Ray’s ear.

  The Snapdragon pitched up behind them on a huge wave, rising so high that Ray had to look up to see the steamer suspended atop an enormous swell of black water. With the steamer half filled with water and sinking, the Snapdragon slid back down as the wave rushed forward. The wave rose higher until it collided with the two steamers pursuing her.

  The boats rocked over on their sides from the force of the wave and continued rolling until their bilges were exposed like vulnerable bellies. The steamers began to sink, their paddle wheels turning helplessly to catch water. Agents called out to one another from the waters as the boats went down around them.

  “What just happened?” Ray murmured.

  Redfeather fought with the oars to turn their dinghy. With the Snapdragon slowly sinking, the pirates began abandoning their steamer in the assorted dinghies and pirogues.

  “Where did that wave come from?” Si asked.

  “From him!” Conker pointed out into the storm.

  Ray twisted in his seat. The raindrops poured into his eyes and he had to wipe back his sopping bangs from his face.

  The little boat was rowing closer now. Through the dark, Ray saw a figure raise a hand in greeting. “Hoy!” he shouted.

  “Who—?” Si began.

  “Tempestuous night!” the figure bellowed with a laugh. “I’ve been ferreting you out for days. Had not the faintest expectations to locate you in this foul weather, but here I am.”

  Conker roared with laughter.

  “Who is it?” Ray asked.

  “It’s Nel,” Conker said. “Nel’s here!”

  AS THE BOW OF THE SNAPDRAGON SANK BENEATH THE STORMY waves, the crew caught up with Ray’s dinghy. The Pirate Queen stood at the back of her pirogue and watched with a cold ferocity as her beloved ship disappeared. Rosie rose up from the bottom of the boat between Mister Lamprey and Buck and snapped her jaws glumly at her mistress.

  The Gog’s men had made their way from the water to the remaining two steamboats, but with the paddles broken, the vessels drifted harmlessly away on the tide. “I’d murder every last one of them if I could,” the Pirate Queen growled, her voice choking momentarily on the last word.

  The worst of the storm had blown off to the east, but a cool, steady rain fell, masking the sunrise with steely, swift-moving clouds. Nel led the small battery of boats up the lake. They came ashore on a wooded beach about a mile south of the Expo’s grounds.

  Ray stared in wonder at the old pitchman. His silver mane of hair was as wild as ever, and his cheerful eyes sparkled from his dark face as he opened his arms wide. Ray’s gaze fell to Nel’s leg, now returned, and even though Sally had already told him, he could not help but gasp.

  “How did you find us?” Si said as she hugged Nel.

  “Your telegram, of course,” Nel said, wringing out his fez and gesturing with the wet hat to Redfeather and Marisol. “I received your message that you were traversing to Chicago. And the news that you were alive, Conker.”

  The old pitchman’s eyes softened as he looked up at Conker. The two embraced for a long moment before Nel pulled back to whisper, “But I could not bring myself to believe it until this very moment. My dear boy.”

  Redfeather pulled
his boat up in the sand. “Those agents will get word back to the Gog. They’ll be after us.”

  Nel turned to the Pirate Queen. “Yes. Is there anywhere that we can take refuge?”

  “Nearly two dozen pirates and some Ramblers,” the Pirate Queen said, sneering. “Sure, we’ll take lodging at a hotel. Won’t even cause a second glance.”

  “There’s someone who might harbor us, my lady,” Mister Lamprey said.

  The Pirate Queen scowled. “Who?” Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jasper?”

  Mister Lamprey shrugged. “Well, not Jasper, exactly …”

  “All right,” she said, casting a pained glance back at the lake. “Piglet, you come with me. Lamprey, tend to the wounded. The rest of you, hide the boats in the trees and stay out of sight until I return. Hammers cocked at all times, boys. The daylight will be upon you soon, and if anyone comes this way, shoot first and make introductions afterward.”

  A small whoop answered her as the pirates set to work. The Pirate Queen headed out on foot with Piglet. Conker knelt by Buck, offering to carry him, but the old cowboy brushed him away and rose weakly to follow Nel and Ray. With the pirates hauling boats and camouflaging them with brush, the group moved away from the beach and into the thick of the forest.

  “What about Shuckstack?” Ray asked. “We heard the Gog sent men.”

  “Sent men, he did … and a Hoarhound.” Nel gave a meaningful frown. He braced Buck’s elbow as they stepped over a log. “But they did not find Shuckstack. They found me.”

  “What do you mean?” Conker asked.

  “I had ventured out to Mother Salagi’s cabin,” Nel said as they reached a clearing dripping with rain and settled to the damp earth.

  “I was returning home with young Gabe and Tom. We realized we were being followed. We attempted to hide, we endeavored to escape, but no matter where we turned or what charm I devised to throw off its pursuit, the Hound knew where I was. Something drew the Gog’s beast to me.

  “I sent Tom and Gabe back to Shuckstack, hoping the Hound would follow me. As I ventured farther from home, and the Gog’s agents continued to hunt me, my suspicions were confirmed. I could not return, lest the children were put in danger. The charms that protect Shuckstack would keep them safe, but only if I was no longer there.”