With love,
Colonel David Worthington
The muslin bag held two loaves of bread and a few apples. Some tea had been packed in a small tin in the bottom. I didn’t uncork the bottle, but I assumed it held water. I put the balm and food back into the rucksack and turned my attention to the last package.
Slowly, I unwrapped the heavy rags to reveal the box. In the dim light, the silver and brass seemed to glow. Phillip had been right. His copy had been amazing, but the actual object was breathtaking. Looking at the figures carved on top, even without touching the box, I felt…something. I couldn’t be sure what exactly. It seemed to throb and pulse. I wanted to trace my fingers over the surface, but at the same time, a knot of anxiety tightened in my belly.
I gritted my teeth. Colonel Worthington had died for this. I would know what had been so important that my world had been turned around for it.
I slapped my hand over the top. Information flooded my tired brain, and the world as I knew it ceased to exist.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I woke again, my nose was buried in the rucksack and tiny explosions were going off behind my eyes. I groaned and sat up slowly, using the wall as a support. My mind still whirled with the images and pictures I had seen. The curator had given me something important all right. And despite all my earlier scoffing at his refusal to give it up, I had to take back my words. Some things were worth a life.
I gathered everything together, careful not to touch the box directly again. I wrapped it up and shoved it in the bottom of the bag. I held my breath and tried to stand, throwing the straps of the rucksack over my shoulder.
Pain spiked through my eyes and dug into my brain. I pressed the heels of my hands to my face and gritted my teeth. I had to get a move on. The darkness of the sky, or what I could see through the perpetual haze, seemed to be black. I hoped I hadn’t been out long. Digging through my pockets, I located the pocket watch and checked. One thirty. Two hours. I’d been out a long time.
My heart pounded an equal tempo at my breast and my temple. I paused at the mouth of the alley. Where to go? I had no home, and I couldn’t go back to the museum. At best, people would offer me sympathy and asked what happened. At worst, they would believe I had been the culprit. I couldn’t risk it.
Terry. I could go where our message spot was. If he’d been able to leave me anything like he planned, it would be there. At the very least, it was a familiar point to regroup and start over again.
I slipped through the shadows, hugging the soot-encrusted walls and trying to stay out of the pools of warm light that the gas lamps cast. Every so often a steam auto would pass, and I held my breath each time, certain it was someone coming for me. When I finally reached the familiar alleyway near the docks, it was with a sense of relief so acute my knees felt watery. I didn’t bother to take the rucksack off. I reached down into the crates, looking for the small, beaten tin that Terry and I hid in a gap between two loose bricks. Sure enough, my fingertips traced the cool outline and wiggled until it slid free.
I opened it, dreading the empty interior I expected. Instead, my heart leapt when a ripped scrap of paper lay folded inside. I pulled it out, replacing the tin. A rustling noise several feet away had me spinning, poised to run, my pulse thundering in my ears. I saw nothing in the darkness between the buildings. Nothing moved, the noise ceased. With a sigh, I took a few steps toward the entrance.
And stopped short when Lord Kreios stepped from a shadow. Even in the dim light his polished boots and brocade waistcoat glittered and winked with wealth and menace.
“Oh, Genevieve. I’m a little disappointed. Everyone has a bit of clockwork in them. The curator had his metal man, but you, my dear, have the most clockwork of all. Because if you know just which buttons to push and which keys to wind, you will perform just as predicted.”
My body tensed and I shifted my weight. I could probably jump the distance between him and the wall. He’d lunge, but I was smaller and faster than him.
Spiros’ outline appeared at the mouth of the alley. Defeat tasted bitter on my tongue.
Kreios smiled. "Go on. Run. It's what you've become best at. You tried deception, but I’m afraid you don’t have the knack for that.”
He took two long strides and drew close enough for me to smell his cologne and see the details of the swallows on his polished gold pocket watch.
Swallows? My brow furrowed and my fingers traced the outline of my own smaller watch hidden in my pocket.
I lifted my eyes to his and was surprised to find him staring over my head. As he cursed, warmth surrounded me like a bubble. Hot metal hands jerked on my arms, and I fell backwards against Thomason’s molded body. He pulled me into what had been a solid brick wall a moment ago. It slid back into place, cutting off the image of Lord Kreios’ angry curse.
“Thank you, Thomason.” I’d never meant anything more in my life.
Large eyes bobbed in the inky shadows and then turned away, lighting a path through the strange tunnel we’d entered. Pounding echoed around us as Lord Kreios beat on the wall. I hoped he tore his hands on the brickwork. The note weighed my pocket like a stone. Every step I took seemed loud in my ears. I hadn’t been able to save anyone.
Not yet, anyway.
****
Thomason led me deeper into the tunnel. It was dark, and the only illumination was the yellow pool Thomason cast. I couldn’t tell where we were. These tunnels were old. Moss coated the damp walls, and the stone beneath looked hand-hewn and older than the walls in other parts of the city.
I don’t know how far we walked, but after what I thought was around ten minutes the tunnel stopped and opened into a more modern area. It seemed familiar but I couldn’t place it. Thomason motioned to a beam stretched across one wall. I sat down, moving the pack to rest between my legs. Thomason untied a large bottle from his waist and began refueling. A metal box at his waist emanated heat, and I assumed it held a few extra coals.
I unfolded the note I’d been clutching in my hand.
“Thomason, can you give me a little light?” I asked when he had finished with his task.
He nodded and leaned over, his eyes staring at the paper. I tried to ignore the feeling of intrusion. He couldn’t help it.
Miss Bond,
As you know by now, Colonel Worthington is dead. Terry is still in my possession, and I would like to offer his safe return in exchange for the box I am certain you now carry. I believe this offer is more than fair. I will be outside the factory, with Terry, at ten a.m. It’s in Willesden Green. If you’d like to save him from a similar fate as Colonel Worthington, I suggest you appear with the item in question. It’s no use to you.
Lord Kreios
A shudder ran through my body. For a moment, the world spun. Then an idea began to glimmer and a smile broke across my face. For once, Lord Kreios’ low opinion of me would come in handy.
If I could have hugged Thomason, I would have.
“Do you know how to get to Lord Kreios’ factory? It’s in Willesden Green.”
Thomason stared at the note a moment longer and I could hear a faint whirring and clicking noise inside his metal skull. It stopped and he nodded.
He rose and began walking in a different direction than we had come. I crumpled the note in my hand and shoved it into the rucksack, throwing it on my back and following. For the first time in days, I felt in control of something. The feeling was heady, and I felt better than I had for a while. I could do this.
I may not have been able to save anyone else, but I would save Terry. And if I worked it right, I wouldn’t be breaking any promises to anyone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We walked through the tunnels for what seemed like hours. My initial excitement and determination diminished as my foolproof plan developed cracks the longer the minutes stretched. What if it didn’t work? What if Terry was already dead? How could I keep him from surrounding us both and taking us captive?
Different sol
utions moved through my mind, but nothing seemed right. I could take a gun, but chances were good I’d just end up shooting myself in the foot. I knew how to use one. Justin had insisted we all learn in case desperate times forced us to protect ourselves. But I wasn’t good with them. They had such a kick that the one time I’d tried I’d ended up numb from the elbow down for almost a half an hour. I could use a knife, but truth be told, I didn’t want to have to hurt anyone. I would, for Terry, if I had to. But I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
I was smarter than Kreios wanted to believe. Now I just had to prove it.
Thomason stopped so abruptly I almost ran into him. He pointed and I noticed a metal ladder marching up the side of the tunnel to a steel grating above. The sky between the metal rods was a deep purple. Dawn approached.
I climbed, cautiously pushing the grate up with my shoulders. I poked my head out and looked around. We were coming out in a sidewalk near a couple of well-kept brick buildings. I assumed we were somewhere on the outskirts of the city.
Thomason followed me, carefully replacing the metal cover. He waved a hand and I followed him to a dark doorway. The door had been nailed shut. Thomason held a finger to his lips and motioned for me to stay where I was. I nodded and he slipped into the darkness.
My ears strained in the darkness for the smallest sound that might warn me of police or anything else that could slow me down. The last thing I needed right now was another complication.
The sky to the east began to blush with the warm hues of dawn and my heart pounded in my chest. I took the moment to pull out the jar of balm and fresh bandages and unwrapped my hand, dropping the soiled rags where I stood. Littering was the least of my worries. I flexed my hand. The curator’s medicine had done wonders. The burn was still a little red in places, but overall a thin layer of pink scar tissue had formed. The worst of the burns had been on my palm, and I coated it with cream and wrapped it with more cloth, leaving my fingers free. They probably needed a few more days under wraps, but I needed the freedom of movement more.
A steam auto puttered down the road, coming closer. I pressed back into the fading shadows of the doorway. Fear pulsed in my veins and I bent my knees, my muscles bunched and ready to run.
The auto, a battered hack with a smoke stack that spewed smuts like black snow shuddered to a halt in front of the store front. Thomason jumped from the inside. He held open the door and waved frantically at me.
The figure on top was draped in a green corduroy coat covered in blotchy grease stains. I thought him a hack driver until I drew closer and saw the shiny, black boots and fine silk trousers peeking from beneath the coat.
“Who are you?”
He turned, and I caught the impression of green eyes. “Just a friend of yours. And the colonel’s. You can call me Ephraim. I’ll take you where you need to go.”
Thomason rattled the door and waved to the coach again. I grabbed the door handle and glared at the man driving. “You’re not on Kreios’ payroll?”
A sharp bark of laughter caught me by surprise. He pulled the cloth from his face, revealing a thirtyish man with a ready smile and the look of someone who got little sleep. “Good Lord, no. The only way I’d like to be in the same room as that man is if he was chained to a chair and I held all the weapons.”
“Good enough.” I told him and climbed inside.
Thomason followed me. I stuck my head out the window as the auto started down the street. “Do you know where we’re headed?”
He nodded, and I caught a glimpse of a dark expression on his face. “Yes. I know where we’re going.”
I clutched my bag to my chest the entire time, praying I hadn’t just made a huge mistake.
“You know him, don’t you?” I asked the automaton.
He nodded vigorously.
“Is he trustworthy?”
Another nod.
“Alright then.”
I tried not to wonder about when I had decided to put my trust in Thomason. I still didn’t understand why he hadn’t been there to help the colonel. But I had a suspicion that he’d been given a similar order to mine. Get out and run. It made sense. The things he could do with a clockwork man I didn’t even want to think too hard on. Of course, it also made it seem as though Thomason was far more aware than I had believed. And that was a thought I didn’t want to contemplate too much yet.
We rattled along for a good twenty minutes. I used the time to pull the replica out of the bag. I sat it in my lap, my fingers tracing the lines of Phillip’s handiwork. My chest ached, but I’d shed my tears. There wasn’t time to let loose more. I had things to do.
Besides, Phillip might have escaped. He would have heard the commotion. Perhaps he had gotten out. I latched onto the flicker of hope and held fast. He would be okay. I had to believe it, or go hysterical, and there was no time for that.
Thomason watched me, his metal head cocked to one side.
“Listen. This is the plan. I’m going to use the replica. You’re going to have to stay in here, if I can convince your friend to help us out. We need a way to get out quickly, and he’s our best chance.”
Thomason just shook his head.
“You have to stay here. If Kreios sees you, he’ll want you.”
Another shake.
“Did the Colonel tell you not to be seen by Kreios?”
The automaton tilted his head the other way. I could almost swear he was laughing at me. He shook his head again.
I huffed. “Then did he make you promise not to be taken?”
This time he nodded.
“Fine time to be making distinctions.” I muttered.
I shifted the box on my lap. “You know more than me, I think. Will this fool them?”
Thomason didn’t move.
Shifting in the seat, I peered out the window. Cutting a glance his way, I noticed he stared at the box in my lap. He seemed to be examining it, as if he were well acquainted with the original.
“Let’s hope it works long enough to get Terry out.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Outside the window, dawn painted everything in shades of pink and orange. It should have looked cheerful. Instead, I saw shades of blood. In the distance, the metal hulk of the factory grew bigger the closer we approached.
Just before we arrived, our driver stopped. We were just below the crest of a hill in the road, out of sight of anyone watching from the factory. I didn’t wait for him to open the door, but climbed out on my own.
“I just want to find out what your plan is before we go any farther.” When I didn’t speak up, he fisted his hands on his hips. “You do have one, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I snapped. But moisture beaded on my lip. What I had was sketchy at best.
“Let’s hear it.”
Thomason climbed from the auto, watching the two of us.
“I’m going to demand Terry’s return in exchange for the box. Then we’ll run.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute. I wiped at my lip.
“That’s it? You’re going to hand over the box to him and expect that he’ll release Terry? Unbelievable.”
Anger fizzed under my cheekbones. “I’m not giving him the real box. And I was planning on a distraction, but I don’t really have much at my disposal.”
“If you aren’t giving him the real box, then what are you giving him?”
I threw open the auto door and pulled out the replica. Ephraim actually took a step back, and then a slow grin broke out on his face. He reached out and I handed him the box.
“Magnificent work. Phillips?” He looked up for my confirmation, and went back to perusing the box. “He does have quite a knack, doesn’t he?”
“He’s got more than a knack. He’s a genius with metal.” My words spilled out, curt and defensive.
Ephraim looked up with a chuckle. “Don’t get defensive. I meant it as a compliment.”
He handed back the box and I hugged the chilly metal to my chest.
“I thought maybe you might help us by providing a method of escape.” Blurting the statement, I felt my face flush. Asking for help grated, especially when asking a stranger.
“I wondered when you’d ask.” He grinned and crossed his arms. “I’d be delighted.”
Relief poured through me and I swayed on my feet. If he’d said no, I didn’t know what the plan would have been. My attention turned to the battered auto we’d been riding in. Even at rest the crooked smokestack belched smuts in huge clouds. Lucky the wind was blowing away from us.
Ephraim clapped a hand over my shoulder. “Don’t look so bleak. She isn’t as bad as she looks. Besides, she has a few tricks up her sleeve.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Instead he leapt up to the driver’s seat and pulled on a few levers. The auto started to shake, and the smokestack vomited a massive cloud of steam and soot. Thomason and I both took a step back. Slowly, and with a bit of screeching, the entire vehicle seemed to peel away its outer layer. The side panels recessed and new, shining plates of brass slid upwards. The smokestack was slowly covered, inch by inch, by a wide, thick brass tube, studded with steel bolts.
Ephraim jumped down, shedding his green coat and throwing it back up on his seat. He was dressed in tails beneath. “Ta-da!” He laughed and pushed a finger under my chin. “Close your mouth, my dear. You’ll catch flies.”
My head bobbed between the auto and Thomason. An idea shimmered into being. “You made Thomason. You’re the inventor the colonel spoke of.”
He blushed. Somehow I found it strange that a man of such importance would be so shy about his work.
“Let’s talk about that later. Now,” he leaned against the side of his machine. “What is the plan?”
“We’ll drive up. I’ll get out. I tell Kreios that I’ll leave the box at my feet. When Terry and I are in the auto, driving away, he can have it.” Edging closer to the auto, I asked, “She can get away fast, can’t she?”
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