The Girl and the Clockwork Conspiracy: Clockwork Enterprises Book Two

by Nikki Mccormack

  “Chaff!”

  He hit the ground and the Lits closed in. Two men grabbed him, hauling him to his feet. He sagged back down to his knees, his bloody hand clutched to his chest, his face a twisted mask of agony. The ship rose faster now. For a few seconds, she considered letting go, but the fall was already too great. She turned her face away, clinging to the ladder and grinding her teeth against the tearing sensation within.

  This is my fault.

  “Mae! Come on. There’s nothing you can do.”

  She climbed. At the top, Ash took Macak then grabbed her hand and hauled her in. She picked up the cat again, holding him tight against her to hide his leg from Drake’s prying eyes, and moved away from Ash, walking to one of the windows to look down on the destruction below. The fog already hid everything from view except the rising of smoke, which showed as a slightly darker patch in the disappearing light. Ash’s mum and brother were in the gondola, along with another man at the wheel who she hadn’t met before. Tomoe sat in one of the chairs, hunched over and weeping. Perhaps she should comfort her mum, but the cold that rushed in to fill the fresh hollow within her wouldn’t allow it.

  Ash pulled up the ladder. There was blood on the bottom two rungs. Chaff’s blood. A wave of nausea drained the color from her cheeks. He glanced up at her then grabbed a greasy cloth and wiped it away.

  She turned to Drake. “I have to go to Whitechapel.”

  “I’m afraid we’re heading the other direction.”

  She narrowed her eyes, nausea condensing and morphing into part of the unyielding ball of ice in her gut. “Perhaps you misunderstand. This isn’t a request. You will take me to Whitechapel.”

  Drake took a menacing step closer, his expression darkening. Bits of debris clung in his hair. “Who do you think is in charge here?”

  She glanced at Ash. It was his parent’s airship after all.

  He met her eyes for a second then turned to the man at the wheel. “Take us to Whitechapel.”

  The man nodded and began to adjust course.

  “We haven’t got time for this,” Drake snapped.

  Ash drew in a deep breath and faced him. “This isn’t your ship.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Maeko said nothing else until they neared Whitechapel. She stared out the window, unable to see anything other than the pain in Chaff’s face when he knelt there amidst the closing Lits, his injured hand clutched to his chest. When they closed in above Whitechapel, the man behind the wheel, Captain Eli, who it turned out was a good friend of Ash’s father, followed her directions with ease. He lowered them down over a park a few blocks away from the building she needed, managing to avoid obstacles despite the heavy fog and deepening darkness.

  Macak curled round her shoulders and Ash insisted on coming with her when she climbed down. She didn’t feel like arguing with either of them. Her feet touched ground again and she swayed, weakness from the prior night’s trauma coming back strong. For a few minutes, she stood there, getting her balance and her bearings in the black night. When she closed her eyes, she could feel Chaff wrapped around her, his bare skin against hers, warming her. Tears stung her eyes and she snapped them open.

  Ash nodded appreciation when he stepped down next to her. She didn’t bother to tell him that she hadn’t been waiting for him, but for her own abused body to stabilize. None of this was his fault.

  She started through the soupy fog, one hand coming up to catch the end of Macak’s twitching tail.

  I’m nervous too, mate.

  Gas lamps along the streets weren’t visible outside of a few feet away, but she knew the route well enough. She and Chaff had moved operations to this low lodging house five different times in their years running the streets together.

  A twisting pain rose in her chest at the thought of him and she crushed it down, storming across the street in an effort to outrun her memories. A block shy of the building she wanted, she held a hand back to Ash and stopped them both. She listened.

  Sound could say a lot, especially when sight was so limited. She heard a horse-drawn buggy of some kind moving past slowly, wary in the poor visibility. A dog barked somewhere further away and, if she listened hard, she could still pick out the hum of the airship.

  Cold crept in and she shivered, not recovered enough from her exposure in the river to withstand the chill in the air. Ash touched her shoulder and she stepped away, heading toward the building. She hoped he would assume she had been about to move and wasn’t actually trying to avoid the contact, though that was exactly what she was doing. Down along the side of the building, she found the door she wanted and lifted on the handle, then shoved. It shifted with a reluctant groan and she entered, jamming it shut again behind Ash with a solid kick near the latch that made Macak dig in his claws. Avoiding Ash’s eyes, she stepped past and continued into the dark interior, moving from memory.

  This building hadn’t suffered extensive damage like the one they’d left in Cheapside, though it had a few problems all the same. Mostly it smelled of mildew and damp and the rooms got cold in the winter. The street front portion was a shop owned by a man who took a share of the profits of anyone staying in the building. He also helped fence many items the boys staying there nicked and turned diseased squatters away, which made the deal equitable enough and gave them a place to stay with a legitimate façade.

  When she reached the second story landing, she found a lanky, greasy looking youth leaning in the corner. He was busy cleaning his nails with a dagger.

  He nodded recognition to her, his gaze lingering on Macak, then pointed to Ash with the dagger. “Who’s the lout?”

  She couldn’t muster her usual defensive anger, though it would have been a welcome change about then. “He’s square.”

  “Right.” The boy grinned wryly and nodded again. “Where’s Chaff? I thought ‘e was comin’ with ye.”

  She swallowed. “He got nicked.” It’s my fault. I asked him to come. I couldn’t let it go.

  The youth shook his head and went back to cleaning his nails. “Bloody shame. The boys put yer things in his room.”

  She said nothing else, afraid that the tempest of rage boiling up in response to his casual disinterest in Chaff’s fate would lead to a fight she was in no condition to win. Instead, she continued into the building, assuming Ash would follow.

  “They put your things in Chaff’s room?” Ash asked in a low voice.

  A faint guilt pressed in on top of her misery. She didn’t answer. The door to Chaff’s room was shut. She shoved it open and went in.

  Macak hopped down from her shoulders and trotted over to sniff at his carrier. She opened it and glanced at the cat who turned tail and trotted to the opposite corner. She shut it again, letting him have his way. He trotted to the edge of the dresser and jumped up to her shoulders when she came in range. Even his slight weight was enough to make the pain flare up, but she gave his head a cursory scratch and bore it.

  One of Chaff’s jackets lay over the back of a chair in the corner. She walked over, picked it up, and pressed it to her cheek. The fabric was soft with wear. It smelled of him. A wonderful smell that made her chest ache and her throat tighten. She held the jacket against her chest and squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of tears.

  I will get you back, she vowed silently. I don’t know how yet, but I will.

  “Mae.”

  The distress in Ash’s tone sent a dagger of remorse through her and she cringed inwardly. She had forgotten that she wasn’t alone for a moment.

  She draped the jacket over one forearm and turned. The satchel Chaff had packed sat beside her things. She picked up her satchel and the carrying case and handed those to Ash. Chaff’s satchel she picked up and carried herself. He would need those things when he joined them.

  Ash followed her from the room without speaking. The boy at the top of the stairs, now picking his teeth with one freshly cleaned fingernail, nodded to her on the way out. She ignored him.

  Down in
the streets, she set a quick pace back toward the airship. As they hurried along, she caught the sound of footsteps on the wet ground not far behind them. She turned, taking them up and around the block. The footsteps followed. She angled back toward the airship again and slowed her pace, letting Ash move up beside her.

  “We’re being followed?” he asked in a low voice.

  She nodded.

  “How many?”

  She listened for a moment and held up two fingers in front of her. They were almost to the airship now. She could hear it and their followers would hear it as well. The footsteps behind them sped up. Macak, responding to her unease, dug in his claws again. When they were close enough to see the ladder through the fog, their pursuers broke into a run.

  Maeko and Ash both spun. He swung out with the carrying case and caught one Literati officer in the temple. Before she could do anything, Macak leapt from her shoulder into the second officer’s face. The man threw up his hands, reeling in panic, and Maeko stuck her leg out. He fell over it and grabbed her shoulder, taking her down with him as Macak leapt clear. They hit the ground together and she twisted away. Soaring pain in her back fueled her anger. She kicked out, giving him a solid blow to the ribs with one foot.

  Ash grabbed her arms, pulling her to her feet. The officer he’d struck was still down. Hers jumped to his feet and pulled his gun. Someone shoved them both to the side. A shot fired. She staggered, catching herself on her knees and looked up. Drake stood there, a smoking gun barrel protruded from a panel in his mechanical arm. The officer with the gun was on the ground again, lying still. The other officer, still down from Ash’s strike, moaned and Drake turned the weapon on him.

  Maeko leapt to her feet and stepped in between Drake’s gun and the remaining officer.

  Drake narrowed his eyes. “Get out of the way.”

  “No.”

  “This is war. You either kill your enemies or they will kill you.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not letting you kill him.” She stood her ground. It wasn’t the first gun she had faced and it wasn’t likely to be the last the way things were going.

  Drake lowered his arm, but the weapon remained ready. “Daft girl, these are the people who shot Lottie and your street rat friend.”

  She didn’t move. “Yes. Chaff’s not even a part of this rubbish and you’re giving them plenty of reasons to make things worse for him.”

  Macak jumped up on her shoulders then and Drake’s gaze narrowed in on the armored leg, his eyes brightening with passionate interest. The gun barrel retracted into his false arm amidst a dancing of gears and a metal plate closed over it.

  “Remarkable. I must examine that leg.”

  She let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “You can look at it, carefully, all you like when we’re back on the airship, so long as you promise not to hurt this man.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Done.”

  She nodded to the ladder.

  “You might at least take his gun away before he comes too enough to remember he has one.” Drake turned away with that comment and began to climb the ladder.

  Maeko backed up, keeping an eye on Drake while she crouched down to pull the gun out of the officer’s holster. She handed it to Ash. The officer moaned again and she glanced back at his face, met his eyes and saw recognition there. She knew the young officer. Officer Wells. He wasn’t a bad sort really, not like his partner.

  She glanced at Ash then nodded to the ladder. “Take that stuff up. I’ll be right there.”

  Ash didn’t move. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

  She scowled at him. “Don’t brass me off. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Stubborn bird.” He grabbed the carrying case and satchel, stomped over to the ladder and began to climb.

  Maeko walked over and picked up Chaff’s jacket that she had dropped when the officer pulled her down. She took a moment to brush the dirt off. When Ash had made it a third of the way up the ladder, out of earshot, she crouched down next to Officer Wells. She shook his shoulder and he met her eyes, struggling to focus. He glanced at the cat peering at him from her shoulder and back to her, looking confused.

  “You know who I am?”

  His eyes unfocused then gradually focused again. He put a hand to his head, wincing. “Yes. Is there really a cat on your shoulder or was I hit that hard?”

  “Yes, there is a cat on my shoulder.” She scratched Macak’s head. “You know I just saved your life?”

  “Yes, but…” His eyes wandered toward where the other officer lay.

  “I’m sorry. Everything happened too fast. I couldn’t save him.” That was true. She hadn’t even known Drake was on the ground until he shoved her out of the way. Would she have tried to save the other man if she had known? Possibly not, given that she or Ash might be dead now if Drake hadn’t come when he did.

  Wells closed his eyes.

  Ash was high enough now that he had vanished in the fog. She needed to follow soon. She touched the officer’s shoulder again. “I need you to do something for me.”

  He opened his eyes, focusing a little faster this time. “What?”

  “The Lits took someone earlier this evening in a raid on a house over in Chelsea. He’s a street rat by the name of Chaff. He was shot in the hand when they caught him. I need you to find out where they take him. Can you do that?”

  His eyes unfocused again, drifted closed. Blood streamed from the wound at his temple. She dug in his dead partner’s pockets, finding a handkerchief that looked clean and pressed it to the wound. He flinched and gave her a suspicious look, but he didn’t fight her when she took his hand and put it in place of hers over the wound.

  “Why would I help you?”

  “Because I saved your life tonight and because you aren’t a bad bloke.”

  He drew in a heavy breath. “Did you help them kill Mr. Folesworth?”

  “No.” She took his other hand and pulled. He got the idea and let her help him to his feet. Her back screamed in protest. “If you want to find the real killer, perhaps you should take a closer look at his brother.”

  He spread his feet wide for balance and removed the handkerchief, gingerly touching the wound. After grimacing at the blood on his fingers, he pressed the handkerchief back in place and gave her a long, searching look. “I suppose I owe you one. How do I let you know what I find out?”

  “Just find out where they take him. I’ll find a way to contact you.” She waited until he nodded then went to grab the other officer’s gun. She looked at the dead man’s face and shuddered, chilled by that empty expression. She glanced back at Wells. “Where’s Tagmet?”

  He looked down at the dead man and his jaw tightened. “They sent him to the new facility. I’ve been put on night patrol here training new recruits.” He brought his feet closer together, gaining confidence in his balance. “You’d have liked it if that had been Tagmet, wouldn’t you?”

  Macak pressed his cheek to hers and she pressed back. “I don’t think I would have liked it, but I might not have felt as bad.”

  Wells lowered his gaze and kicked the dirt. “Neither would I.”

  Maeko turned away and tucked the gun into Chaff’s satchel, then she began to climb. Macak clung to her shoulders, crouching down and digging his nails in deeper the higher they climbed. She welcomed the pain. She deserved it for letting things get so out of control. Somehow or another, she would make it right. If that meant working with the Pirates then that’s what she would do.

  When she got to the top, someone plucked Macak off her shoulders and Ash grabbed one arm, helping her in. He took the satchel from her and set it with the other things, then glanced at the jacket on her arm and walked away leaving his mother and Sam to pull in the ladder. Maeko needed to talk to him, but now wasn’t the time, not with all these people around. Besides, she didn’t yet know what to say.

  Drake sat in a chair with Macak on his lap. He already had the side panel of
the leg armor open and was examining the inner workings with a delighted gleam in his eyes. Macak sat patiently, looking rather bored with the proceedings.

  Maeko leaned close to Drake on her way past. “If you hurt him,” she whispered, “I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

  Drake sneered, not bothering to look away from the leg. “Pleasant girl.”

  She lingered a moment to scratch Macak’s head then walked over to Tomoe who stood staring out one of the windows now into the foggy black night.

  Tomoe glanced after Ash then looked at Maeko through red-rimmed eyes. She spoke in a hushed voice. “That boy, the one who didn’t make it up to the airship, he is someone important to you?”

  Maeko only nodded, afraid to speak. Aside from the possibility that her sorrow might break free, she also didn’t want Ash listening to them, though the rumble of the engines made it unlikely he would hear anything they said.

  Tomoe smiled and brushed at a pulled thread on the shoulder of Maeko’s coat. “Perhaps I should sew some padding into your shoulders so that cat doesn’t shred your skin.”

  Maeko managed a faint smile. It felt out of place on her lips. Tomoe dropped her hand. After a moment, Maeko took her mum’s hand and held it. They stared out into the black night together, both mourning what they had lost that day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  By the time the airship started to descend again, Maeko was asleep in one of the chairs with Chaff’s jacket draped over her shoulders and Macak curled contentedly in her lap. The change in the ship’s motion and the noise it made when the engine cut back and they drew in air to descend snapped her awake. Tomoe, Samuel and Julia were asleep as well. Ash stood staring out a window toward the back of the gondola. Drake stood next to the captain, providing direction on where to land the ship.