Boots for the Gentleman
Page 28
“May I?” Kristof asked gently and stood. He carefully examined the duchess’s condition and then looked meaningfully at the gentleman. “He has no control over the magic. He can gather it and fling it about, but he has no means of directing or shaping it. This is evidence of magic gone haywire.”
“You’re a wizard?” the duchess asked, clutching Kristof’s lapel. “Can you put me back the way I was?”
“I don’t know,” he said sadly. “Unfortunately, I’m unable to even try until we can stop this man from draining all of the magic away and using it to do things like this.”
“I could do it,” Frolic said softly. “I could tell the angels to put you right. I could tell them to create beautiful things. We could make a paradise of this city.” He looked at Dink. “As lovely and peaceful and perfect as your menagerie.”
“Ah, kinder…,” the old man said.
“Have you gone to the queen?” Reg asked the duchess. “She’s always valued you as an advisor. What about the rest of the nobility? Certainly Thimbleroy is powerful, but he couldn’t possibly stand against all of them.”
“The nobility are of three minds,” the duchess explained. “I am ashamed to say that most of them have cast their lots on Thimbleroy’s side. They are cowards, too afraid to be his enemies if he should prevail. He’s succeeded in eliminating our kingdom’s greatest threat. Who could possibly defeat him as Grande Chancellor? The rest are even worse: doing nothing until they know for sure who will triumph. A few are standing with us, though not publicly.”
“I regret to inform that no one here is addressing the larger issue,” said a man with a slight accent. He pushed his way through the throng to stand beside the duchess. Querry’s breath caught in his throat when he recognized the strawberry-blond hair and pale eyes.
“You—” the thief sputtered, pointing.
“I’m afraid so,” the man said, removing his hat and pressing it to his chest in a theatrical bow. “As I was saying, I fear all of the fine ladies and gentlemen assembled here are missing the larger picture.”
“Such as?” Querry asked. “But wait. Who are you exactly?”
With a smile and a wink, the man bowed again. “Jean-Andre,” he said, offering Querry his hand.
“Jean-Andre what?”
“Jean-Andre will have to do for now, Mr. Knotte.”
“You’ve been following me,” Querry said, ignoring the Belvaisian’s hand. “Why?”
Jean-Andre sighed dramatically. “I was trying to keep you alive, sir. Not that you made it the least bit easy.”
“Why?”
“Because you possess the knowledge to operate the clock tower. That knowledge is very valuable, to many, many people.”
“Like who?”
“Who wouldn’t want the ultimate weapon? Who wouldn’t pay for it? Your Lord Thimbleroy knew its value. From the time he understood even the most rudimentary functions of that tower, he began taking offers from foreign sovereigns and wealthy mercenaries alike.”
“He planned to sell the knowledge?” Reg gasped.
Jean-Andre nodded. “During my time posing as a representative of the Belvaisian government, I witnessed many bids upon this information, from over a dozen different buyers. Money, it seems, remains the great motivator.”
“But, but that’s treason!” Reg continued. “He should be arrested! Do you have proof of this?”
“But of course,” Jean-Andre said.
“Just who are you working for?” Querry demanded.
“I am currently in the employ of your fair duchess,” Jean-Andre said. “She hired me to keep her informed of your Lord Thimbleroy’s activities. As I have been trying to tell you all along, the issue we face with the current clock tower is only the smallest sliver of the problem. Your Grande Chancellor sold plans to duplicate both the clockwork and the magic to at least a dozen different people. Before long, there will be another twenty towers here on your own soil, as well as those that are constructed in foreign lands. One man, and one tower, and one clockwork army we might defeat, but the knowledge of their construction will spread. I cannot imagine how many nations will have standing clockwork armies in the next decade.”
Dink shook his head and chuckled. “They will only get so far, for they cannot copy our Frolic, nein?”
“Well, not yet,” Jean-Andre said.
“I don’t understand what the problem is here,” the gentleman said, irritated. “Why doesn’t someone go to this tower, find this inept usurper and kill him? Querrilous, you must do it. Kill this man and bring me back his heart and his eyes so that I can crush them under my boot heel. As soon as you do, I’ll raze that silly tower to ash and scatter it on the wind. And anyone who’s aided in this blasphemy shall—”
“Destroy the angels?” Frolic gasped. “No!”
“I agree with him,” Querry said. “I’ll kill Thimbleroy. I’ll need weapons. Dink? I’ll need a way to reach the top of the tower and—”
“I am sorry to say that the government confiscated mein beautiful airship,” Dink lamented. “I can help you with the rest, though.”
“You’re going to need a lot more than weapons, mate,” said the man with the rifle, whom the others called Captain Saul. “Nobody can get anywhere near that place, on account of the storms.”
“Storms?”
“Aye, it storms almost constantly for a half a mile around that tower. Buildings have been destroyed and anybody who stays too long in the area, well—”
“They’re likely to end up like me,” the duchess said. “If not worse. Even those who escape physical injury are driven completely mad.”
“Most people cannot handle magical energy,” Kristof agreed. “I can scarcely imagine the impact it’s had on this Thimbleroy himself. He must be ’round the bend by now.”
“Aye,” said a Rajallah woman with a red scarf over her hair. “You wouldn’t believe the things he’s done! To others and even to himself.”
“The statues around the tower move on their own sometimes,” another man said. “They’re twisted, awful things now.”
Frolic, who’d been looking at his shoes with his elbows on his knees, lifted his head and said, “The magic is overflowing. The angels are drawing it in as they’re supposed to, but there isn’t anyone to tell them how or what to shape it into, so it’s just boiling up. Doing whatever it wants.”
“Uncontrolled magic is the most dangerous,” Kristof offered. “But it’s also magic. I may be able to do something with it if I can get close enough.”
“We’re going to need a solid plan,” Reg said. “And a lot of luck.”
“I can get you the equipment you’ll need,” Dink offered. “Lizard and I have been working hard to supply these good people. We have quite a store built up, and I’ve invented some useful new things.” His thick moustache fell with his face. “I hope one day I’ll not need to make weapons any longer. I long for a day when ingenuity and industry can be used for beauty instead of slaughter.”
Querry doubted such a day would ever arrive, but he had no time for philosophy. “Let’s sit down and share what we know,” he suggested. The duchess, Jean-Andre, and Captain Saul found chairs, and some of the other people, presumably the leaders, formed a circle around the bench. “Frolic has told us that the top of the tower can detach,” Querry said.
An older woman nodded. “True,” she said, biting on the stem of a pipe. “I don’t know how he fuels it, but it can fly.”
“The magic,” Frolic explained.
“Magic as fuel,” Kristof mused.
“Kristof,” Reg said, “how long would a person be able to survive inside that magical storm without being changed?”
The wizard considered. “Given the high concentration of power and the chaotic nature of it, I’d say not more than a few hours. Maybe less. It’s impossible to say what the magic would do or how long it would take.”
“Then we must lure him away,” Reggie concluded. “We must find a way to force him to fly away from th
e tower. We could lay a trap for him: create a distraction and draw him into a place where he’ll be confined.”
Saul nodded, looking at Reg with surprised respect. “And then what?”
“Well, he’s still a mortal man. He should die like one.”
“He won’t come alone,” the duchess said. “He’ll have human guards as well as those ghastly clockwork ones he’s been building. And he’ll have the power. It’s more devastating than I can impart to you. The trees, the ground, the buildings and even the sky will be altered when he uses it.”
“All the more reason for stealth,” Reg said. “What we need is a place where men can remain hidden until the last possible moment. Then one of us can take the shot.”
“I know the place,” Querry said. “His home. If we attack Thimbleroy Manor, he’ll be sure to hurry to its defense. He’s building the clockwork soldiers in his basement. I’ve seen them. And there’s a large cathedral right across the street. It has a tower of its own where we can station men. I’d say we could hide at least a dozen of our best marksman up there.”
“And what about the rest of us?” asked a freckled young man with an overbite. “What happens to those of us on the ground? The guards will rip us to pieces!”
“Maybe we won’t need men on the ground to attack,” Querry said. “What about an explosion? Is there any way we could get access to powder, or to dynamite?”
“Only if we break into the plant that makes the stuff,” someone muttered incredulously.
Querry laughed. “Is that all? Well, I’ll get the dynamite!”
“With a lengthened fuse we can detonate it from a distance,” Dink offered.
“Then I volunteer to do that too,” Querry said quickly. “Reg, I think you should be up on the cathedral tower. You’re a fantastic shot.”
Reg looked pleased and nodded. “I’ll knock his monocle off!”
“I’ll hide in the church,” Kristof offered. “As soon as I sense magic, I’ll try to put a shield up around anyone on the ground. Possibly I can negate some of the tower’s effects as well, but I can’t make any promises.”
“I’ll come and watch out for you,” the fey said, “though not inside the church. We’ll have to find another place to take shelter. I have much desire to spend a few moments with this man before he dies.” Kristof looked dark, but he reached up and stroked the outside of the faerie’s arm.
“There is still the power,” the duchess said. “Even a small burst could dash this entire plan to nothing.”
They all sat in silence, their optimism evaporated. Finally Dink said, “I may be able to replicate some of the tower’s magic-absorbing ability. I learned more than Thimbleroy knows during my time in captivity there. Probably not enough, unless I had some help. Frolic understands the workings of the mechanisms better than any of us, and we finally have a wizard as an ally. The three of us might be able to come up with something, build a sort of magical lightning rod of our own.” He looked expectantly at his two would-be assistants.
Kristof rubbed his smooth chin. “There are certain elements that attract enchantment,” he said tentatively, “though I know nothing of clockwork.”
“I do,” Frolic said so quietly that only those closest to him heard.
“I was hoping to take Frolic with me to the munitions factory,” Querry said. “Though this seems a bit more pressing. I don’t suppose there’s another experienced thief in our company?”
Lizard cleared this throat and raised his brows when Querry looked at him. Querry slapped his thigh, chuckled, and said, “I thought maybe. The two of us should be able to manage just fine. We’ll go in between shifts, and we shouldn’t need much. It’s just a diversion, after all.”
“Thanks, mate,” the boy said with a bright smile. “I’ll enjoy a few pointers from the best.”
Querry laughed, oddly satisfied. “We’ll start tomorrow morning. First we’ll need to observe, find out where they store the stuff and if it’s guarded.”
“We will also start in the morning,” Kristof said.
“It will take us at least a few days,” Frolic said. “We can’t hope to make anything as sophisticated as the angels, but I already have some ideas.”
“Nothing left tonight but to get some rest then,” Reggie said, stretching his arms above his head. “Do any of you know of a safe place where we could stay? I think it’s in all of our best interests if the authorities remain unaware of our return.”
“You can spend the night here,” the duchess offered. “We have little space, but this location hasn’t been compromised and I have my people watching and patrolling the area. I can offer you a small room in the former servants’ quarters in the attic.”
“Unacceptable!” the faerie gentleman said. “I’ll not sleep on a cot reeking of filthy human scullery maids, old onions, and shoe polish!”
Kristof looked up at him and said a pleading word, and the sharp, defensive angle of his shoulders softened a little. The wizard grasped the faerie’s hand and stroked it with his thumb. “Beloved, you do too much for my sake. I wish you’d stayed where you could be safe and provided for in the manner that you deserve.”
“I shall be satisfied to sleep next to you,” the faerie said with more gentleness than Querry had ever heard him express. “However, I will add this slight to my growing list of offenses this city and its people have committed against me. They try even my good and merciful nature.” His eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. Every man and woman dropped his or her gaze from his vengeful face.
“Thank you,” Kristof said. All of them stood up and followed their hostess toward the tiny cell on the fourth floor.
Jean-Andre stopped Querry with a hand on his elbow. “Might I have a word?”
Querry, his mind full of questions, nodded once as the rest of his party ascended the stairs out of the cellar. The two men stood quietly, waiting until they were alone.
“You are quite the thief,” Jean-Andre said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the stone wall. “I was quite impressed with your skills.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say nothing until you’ve heard me out. And then, hopefully, you will agree to what I propose.”
“Go on.”
“As I said, you are good at what you do. You fail, however, to see the bigger picture. Coins and jewelry hold value only so long. In our world, sir, the most valuable commodity is information. Information such as the book in your possession. I wonder if you have any idea what that book is worth? No, of course you don’t. But I do. I also have the connections necessary to find you the highest bidder. For a modest share of the profits, of course.”
“Not interested,” Querry said. “That book belongs to Frolic.”
“The sale of it could provide for him the rest of his life. I’m not talking about dealing with back-alley fences, Mr. Knotte. The people who would be interested in that book would be willing and able to provide you with lands, properties, money beyond your wildest dreams. And that brings me to my second proposition.”
“I doubt I’m going to like this, but go on.”
“I would like to offer you a business partnership.”
“What exactly is it that you do?” Querry asked.
The other man considered. “I make friends with wealthy and important people. I listen and learn useful things. Then I decide who else might want to know these useful things. And who will pay me to know them.”
“Does the duchess know about all of this?”
“I’m sure she suspects,” Jean-Andre said, waving the matter away with a flick of his fingers. “She’s not a fool. I am in her employ at the moment, but without the stipulation that I can’t keep any knowledge I glean from this situation for future use. The knowledge of either magic or industry, possibly both, will determine the course of the future, Mr. Knotte. He who controls that knowledge will control the world. We have turned an important corner in our history. One way or another
, clockwork automatons will be produced. I’m offering you a chance to work with me and be a—I don’t know—a guardian after a fashion, of that knowledge.”
“By doing what, exactly?”
“By learning how to dress properly and speak well. Your ability to avoid detection will be quite helpful, as sometimes the useful knowledge I seek is not freely offered. You are also very beautiful,” the Belvaisian said, lowering his head and looking up at Querry through his peach-colored lashes. “I have been told I’m not altogether hideous myself, and let me assure you, that beauty can open many doors for you. I can teach you how.”
Sweat ran down Querry’s spine as he noticed how hot the cellar had become. He noticed the loose waves in Jean-Andre’s hair. The other man stood so close that Querry could smell his expensive cologne, could practically count the freckles that peppered his nose. He took a large step backward and said, “I- I don’t know about this. What about Reggie and Frolic?”
“What about them?”
“I have to think,” Querry said, mopping his moist brow with his shirtsleeve. “I have to go, or the others will wonder what’s kept me.”
Jean-Andre laughed. “You see, you knew without me saying a word to keep this between the two of us! You’re a natural.”
Querry turned away and hurried up the stairs to the servants’ quarters. There was scarcely room for the three narrow beds contained within, and the slope of the ceiling prevented them from standing upright. Reg had lit the oil lantern on the night table and sat down to clean his guns. Kristof took the bed opposite him and held out his hand to his partner. The faerie, though he grumbled incessantly about the conditions, nestled between Kristof’s parted legs with his head on the magician’s chest. Kristof stroked his hair, and in mere moments he fell asleep. Frolic looked from the pair to Reg, as if trying to decide where he belonged. He gave up on sorting his memories and pulled a three-legged stool to the tiny window. With a deep sigh he sat down with his back to all of them and brushed the plain curtain aside. It wounded Querry to see him hurting and confused, and Querry wondered what he might have done differently. Maybe he really was too impetuous sometimes. Somehow he knew not to rub Frolic’s back but to leave him alone. He stretched out on the third bed and folded his arms beneath his head. The guilt he felt over his clandestine meeting with Jean-Andre didn’t help him to relax, either. After thinking over his plan for half an hour, he removed his armored vest, gloves, boots and weapons and got under the coarse sheet. He heard Reg doing the same and let his eyes close. He’d been resting for some time and was almost unconscious when Frolic lifted the bedclothes and curled up beside him. Querry rolled over to embrace him and kiss his forehead before surrendering to a much-needed sleep.