Black Mercury (The Drifting Isle Chronicles)
Page 27
Cas heard raised voices. He recognised his father’s tones and Hildy’s, both sounding irate. The workshop was mostly in darkness and he couldn’t see either person.
“I thought they’d made peace,” he whispered to Clara.
She shook her head slightly. “Sort of. Max found out about this place days ago, of course—it couldn’t be kept secret after all that mess. Hildy thought he understood, but he came here an hour ago wanting to absorb it into the Goldstein empire.”
Cas listened for a moment. “But they aren’t talking about this place.”
Clara sighed deeply. “It’s turned into a broader fight. Lots of things they haven’t been saying are coming out.”
Cas felt a flutter at his elbow and a small head nudged against his arm. Looking down, he saw Min cradled in the crook of Clara’s arm. The pigeon had been listless for days: not even cake could tempt her. The loss of so many of her friends—and Top, who’d died with a coilgun needle through his neck—had broken her altogether, or so it seemed. They had held a wake for the dead among Min’s poor faithful flock, which had been a pretty heartbreaking experience; seeing all those tiny still bodies lined up had felt like a direct reproach to Cas, who (perhaps for the first time in his life) felt responsible. He was cautious around Min, who continued to grieve deeply. Diffidently, he held out his arm: to his relief the pigeon slowly climbed onto it and rested her head against his chest.
She didn’t hate him, then. He stroked her soft feathers gently as he waited for his father and Hildy to finish fighting.
His attention soon wandered. Clara was standing quite close; he could feel her warmth. He didn’t think she was even aware of the proximity herself; a glance down revealed a distant expression as she listened to his father’s angry speeches.
“I’m glad you’re all right, liebling,” he said softly.
“Hm?” She glanced up at him distractedly. “I’m fine.”
He nodded, unsure what else to say. Then Hildy began to speak again—loudly—and his attention was arrested by the sound of his own name.
“You know where you went wrong with Cas?” she was saying. “You expected him to be exactly like you. You were so busy with that, you never gave a second thought to what he wanted. Like you did with me!”
“Oh, didn’t I?” Max bellowed. “Didn’t I sponsor his racing, year upon year? He’s had a fine time of it, living it up at the track. I indulged him in everything he asked for!”
“He didn’t need to be indulged. He needed to be supported, encouraged in a direction that was right for him! The poor lad’s a mess.”
Max snorted. “He’s fine.”
“He’s got the self-esteem of a snail,” Hildy said angrily. “Or can’t you see that? All he knows is that he’s no good at anything he was supposed to excel at—and he doesn’t want to be. That’s your doing.”
Remarkably, Max didn’t appear to have a ready response to that. Silence fell, and Cas began to realise the awkwardness of his position. “We should move, or something,” he whispered. “This isn’t something I should be hearing.”
Clara nodded. Reaching behind him, she opened the door quietly and then closed it again, not quite with a bang but with enough noise to announce their presence. She walked quickly across the floor, beckoning Cas to follow her.
“Hildy?” she called. “Cas is here.”
Hildy came forward to meet him, just in time to prevent Cas from falling over a shadowy… something he hadn’t seen in time.
“Whoops,” she said mildly. “Watch that leg.”
Cas swept her up in a hug, ignoring her squeak of surprised protest. “You’re easily the world’s best aunt, Hild.”
Max coughed. “Hello, Caspar.”
Cas released his aunt and turned. “Hi, Dad.”
“I was about to tell your aunt,” he said with a meaningful—and somewhat irritated—glance at Hildy. “I’ve found a position for you, if you want it.”
Cas’s heart sank. He’d thought his father had finally accepted that he’d never enter the business. “Oh?” he said guardedly. “What’s that?”
Max cleared his throat. “Well. You might recall that your aunt—and Miss Koh, there—have been building autogyros for a proposed government expedition to Inselmond. There will be several gyros involved, and they all need to be piloted. Since you’ve already shown a certain flair for it…?”
Cas stared, electrified. Max wasn’t trying to press him into service. It was an actual job— one that Cas could do. To fly a gyro! Properly, that is, instead of a frenzied death-defying scramble in the middle of the night! “I’d love to,” he said in a rush, a huge smile resisting his attempts to suppress it.
Max’s eyes widened and he looked taken aback. “Ah… yes, well, it’s only a temporary assignment of course—just the one trip on the cards for now—but the gyro isn’t going anywhere. There’ll be more openings for pilots before long.”
Cas beamed.
“Your aunt will be training you,” Max added. “Starting as soon as your leg’s sound enough. The doctors tell me a week or ten days ought to be sufficient.”
Cas was still beaming.
“Right,” said Max, clearing his throat again. “Well, with that settled. We’ll talk again, Hild.” He headed for the door.
“Uh, wait. Dad?”
Max stopped and turned, frowning. “Yes?”
“Thanks.” Cas managed to tame his expression into a more moderate smile, but his heart leapt with happiness.
Again, Max looked surprised. He was so used to being at odds with his son, Cas supposed; he didn’t know how to deal with unexpected harmony. He nodded once, and left.
Hildy promptly sagged against him. “I hate these fights,” she muttered. “He can be such a complete bastard.” She looked ill, her eyes shadowed and her skin too pale. Lifting a hand, she rubbed at her temples as if her head ached.
Cas wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Did you see what just happened?”
Hildy and Clara both blinked at him.
“My father relented. Max Goldstein admitted defeat. Bear up, Hild. You can wear him down.”
Hildy smiled faintly, and nodded. “I know. I’m not letting it go this time. I’ve got everything I need now. I’ve got this building, and with the addition of the autogyro money—official and unofficial—my savings are enough to set up a company of my own. I’m going to do it.” She sighed. “I just wish it didn’t have to be so damned unpleasant in the meantime.”
“What you want to do,” said Min unexpectedly, “is shove a sock in his mouth.”
Clara raised her brows. “A sock?”
Min nodded. “Stuff it with beans first, then shove it right in. See if he can talk around that.”
The sheer absurdity of that image sent Cas into a fit of laughter. It was partly his relief—and a new hope—that did it; he could hardly stand still. Clara laughed too, relief evident on her face. Min wasn’t gone forever, after all.
Only Hildy didn’t laugh much. “I’ve got lots of socks,” she commented. “Old, scratchy ones that haven’t been washed in a while.” An evil light gleamed in her eye.
Min nodded sagely. “Perfect.”
“Listen,” Cas said when he’d got himself under control again. “I don’t know if I’ve quite expressed how… well, how fully I appreciate your help, you two and Minnie. I know what you must have gone through. Or, well, I don’t, but I can imagine. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” He swallowed, feeling a little emotional. “It means a lot.”
Clara just smiled. “You’re welcome, Cas,” she said simply.
Hildy clapped him on the arm. “Better put it to good use, this new lease of life. You’re going to be a whizz at the gyro.” She smiled on them both, then added, “It’s time to call it a day, I think. Sixteen hours of sleep for me, if I’m lucky.”
Cas pecked her on the cheek. “Where’s Til got to? I wanted to thank him as well.”
“He’s at home, resting.” Cas detected a tra
ce of a blush on her cheek as she said it.
He arched a brow. “Oh? Whose home is he at?”
Hildy blushed harder, and grinned at him. “He can be sharp, that one,” she commented to Clara on her way past. “I’ll convey what you said,” she called back over her shoulder. “He’ll appreciate it.”
Clara and Cas stood in silence for a moment after Hildy had gone. It struck Cas that Clara’s manner was rather distracted, and she was avoiding his eye.
“Everything all right, Clar?” he asked with a friendly smile. “I thought you were coming to the track.”
Clara sighed and shot him a faintly exasperated look. “Of course I wasn’t.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“I was avoiding someone. Two someones, if I’m honest.”
Cas frowned, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“I was avoiding you, Cas, and Luk. Especially in the same place at the same time. Or haven’t you noticed the tension?”
Cas blushed, mortified. He’d noticed something in Luk’s manner hours ago, but he hadn’t thought much of it at the time or even recalled it since. “What’s up with him?”
“What’s up with him,” Clara said slowly, “is that I broke it off.” She paused. “Among other things.”
“It,” he repeated. “It? You mean whatever that thing was you had going.” His heart began to beat a bit faster, which annoyed him. Stop being stupid, Cas.
“Yes. The thing, whatever it was.”
“Why did you do that?” Cas tried not to hold his breath waiting for the answer.
“One reason was… well, his behaviour this past week or so. You know, I always liked him for his capability, calm good sense, wisdom, all that. He seemed so grounded; no soaring ego like most of the drivers, no—” she blushed here “—temper, no bad attitude. And he wasn’t always showing off and trying to impress, like the other men I knew. I liked those things.
“But I don’t think that’s the real Lukas. He’s only like that when things are going well for him; when they went wrong, well… he started to show another side. One that I didn’t like.”
“What do you mean?”
Clara looked up at him, her dark eyes guarded. “He changed. For a while I thought he was doing well, trying hard for you. But he grew irritable, tetchy, easily offended. He withdrew from me: wouldn’t accept comfort from me, had none to offer in return. And he proved that he has a…” she paused. “Vicious side. Mean-spirited.”
Cas blinked. Lukas? Surely not. Whenever Cas had seen him, Luk had been well-groomed, smiling and serene. “Are you sure?”
“There were some things he said recently,” she said sadly. “He implied that his friendship with you wasn’t what it should be. I don’t know what’s under Luk’s smooth demeanour, and I don’t feel like I want to find out.”
“What was it that he said?” Cas’s thoughts flitted back a few hours to the race, and Lukas’s obvious glee at the public humiliation of Alfred Geiger. That had been… unclassy. Not like the Luk he knew, at all.
Maybe Clara had a point?
Clara eyed him. “You know, you and I will be seeing something of each other,” she said instead of answering his question. “I’m staying with the Goldstein gyro manufactory until the project’s done, but I’m also working for Hildy now. Officially, I mean, salaried and everything. She’s training you, and I’ll be around.”
Cas smiled with genuine happiness at that idea. “That’s good,” he said softly. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be seeing much of you anymore.”
Clara hesitated, then said, “I wouldn’t let that happen.”
Cas managed to keep the smile in place, ignoring the way his heart picked up speed again. “No?”
“I’d miss you,” she said, almost inaudibly. “There are other reasons why Luk and I aren’t… well, you know.”
“Oh?”
She hesitated. “The other reason, dear foolish Cas, is you. I didn’t need to tell him: he knew. And that, I don’t blame him for resenting.”
This was classic Clara-speak: a complicated way of saying something simple, especially when she was uncomfortable. He was always afraid of incorrectly interpreting her words and making an idiot of himself (again).
So he ignored the uncomfortable thump of his heart: no use getting carried away. “Me?” he echoed dumbly.
Clara nodded.
“You mean… you… like me better?”
Clara’s sombre expression gave into an amused grin, her eyes dancing. Crap, she was already laughing at him again.
“I can’t think why,” she said mildly. “You have none of the qualities I’ve always wanted. You’ve a horrible temper and you can be deplorably rash when it’s roused. You aren’t diligent or hardworking or capable. You’re even a celebrity, a media darling! It doesn’t get much worse than that.”
“Steady on,” Cas said, wounded.
Clara grinned. “But the fact is, those few days were the worst of my life—by a mile. And when I realised you were in the grave…” she shuddered. “I’ve never been so frightened. That taught me something.
“And you were pretty impressive, Caspar Goldstein. Actual heroics! You were brave, taking on Matilda Nacht and Faulkner like that. You could’ve called it someone else’s problem and gone home.”
Cas nodded along, thinking. What he’d done hadn’t been bravery so much as pure rage—that temper she had mentioned. Maybe there had been a flicker of a sense of responsibility in there somewhere, but he couldn’t take much credit for it.
He opened his mouth to say that. “So…” he said instead. “Does that mean you’ll dance with me after all?”
She grinned again, her eyes alight with something that looked heart-thumpingly like love. “Why don’t we try dinner first?” she suggested.
“All right: dinner,” he agreed, eyeing her. “You know… no one’s ever looked after me the way you do. No one’s ever cared enough to, I think.”
She smiled at him. “Someone’s got to. Just look at the mess you get yourself into when I’m not around.”
He opened his mouth to protest at that, but she grinned and kissed him, and Cas forgot what he’d been planning to say.
End Notes
Thank you for reading Black Mercury! If you would like to read more about Eisenstadt and the Drifting Isle, don’t forget to check out these additional titles in the Drifting Isle Chronicles:
The Kaiser Affair by Joseph Robert Lewis
The Machine God by MeiLin Miranda
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Also by Charlotte E. English:
Novels:
Draykon (Draykon Series, 1)
Lokant (Draykon Series, 2)
Orlind (Draykon Series, 3)
Novellas:
The Rostikov Legacy (Malykant Mysteries, 1)
The Ivanov Diamond (Malykant Mysteries, 2)
Myrrolen’s Ghost Circus (Malykant Mysteries, 3)
Table of Contents
The Drifting Isle Chronicles
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
End Notes
sh, Black Mercury (The Drifting Isle Chronicles)