A royal carriage was making its way through the crowd. Aggie assumed it must belong to the crown prince or some other member of Queen Victoria’s immediate family, until she realized that the black heraldic eagle perched on a crown was not Britain’s royal coat of arms. “That’s not one of ours,” she said, with a dizzying sense that events were speeding up out of all control.
Twist frowned. “What do you mean?”
Dodger reared up, his eyes oscillating until his pupils narrowed to pinpricks. “It’s the kaiser’s monster,” he said with startling clarity. He can see inside the coach, she realized.
“Dodger!” Aggie moved in front of him so he could focus on her face. “Are you all right? Are you in any pain?”
“Not yet,” he said, and then his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Watch it,” said Twist, yanking them to the side as the carriage swerved in a wide turn before passing through the open gates of the Royal Victoria. The hooves of the big bay horses clattered on the cobblestones as the crowd parted to let the carriage through.
“This is our chance,” said Twist. “Come on.” Panting from the effort of supporting Dodger’s limp weight, he and Aggie followed the carriage through the gates. One scarlet-coated soldier in a spiked metal helmet stepped in front of them.
“Halt,” he said, and then, in English, he added, “No closer.”
“We need medical help for this man,” said Aggie.
The guard did not budge. “You wait. Now the kaiser is here. Go back,” he said.
“Really, your English is remarkable,” said Twist, gazing at the poker-faced guard with what appeared to be rapt admiration. “Now, do be a love and let us through. We need the kaiser’s divine touch.”
The guard looked dubious. “What is this divine touch?”
Aggie’s heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to speak. “We were hoping His Imperial Majesty could touch our friend and heal him,” she said, her voice surprisingly even. “Look,” she said, suddenly knowing what to do. Give the guard something small he can agree to. One agreement can lead to another. “I’m going to need to put him down. My arms are turning to jelly. We’ll just prop him up over there by the wall, out of your way.” She indicated the far wall. “Is that all right?”
The guard nodded impatiently. Underneath his spiked metal helmet, his face was dusted with golden down—he was probably no more than a year or two older than she was.
As Aggie and Twist lowered Dodger gently down by the wall, a footman jumped down from the back of the carriage, opened the door and unfolded a step. Then he stood back and saluted as a figure in a navy blue admiral’s uniform emerged. The man, who appeared to be in his early forties, sported a thick moustache that resembled the capital letter W, a gaudy gold-and-red sash and a half dozen medals and ribbons on his chest. Most strikingly of all, when he turned, Aggie saw that he was wearing a tall, black-furred hat decorated with a white skull and crossed long bones that made him look like an uneasy mixture of royal guard and pirate.
“Eure Kaiserliche Majestät,” said Moulsdale, hurrying to greet his visitor in a black wool coat that was buttoned up, presumably to conceal that he was not properly dressed underneath. “Forgive me for not being here to greet you sooner,” he said, speaking in the slow, clear, overly emphatic manner usually reserved for the very young and the infirm and elderly. “We did not expect you for another three hours!”
“I heard that my beloved grandmother had arrived early.” Kaiser Wilhelm had an almost perfect upper-class British accent, except for the faintest hint of something Germanic in the roll of the r. “Surely you would not want me to keep Her Majesty waiting.” His voice dripped with honeyed mistrust.
“Of course not,” said Moulsdale, “but we had hoped to see to Her Majesty’s needs first so that we could completely concentrate on the honor of your arrival, Your Grace.”
“That choice,” said the kaiser, “was mine to make, not yours. I was told that I would arrive at the same time as my darling grandmother.”
“I am terribly sorry if we have offended you in any way,” said Moulsdale. “That was most certainly not our intention.”
The kaiser clicked his heels together. “Do not grovel. I dislike groveling. We will move on from this subject.”
Moulsdale gave a little bow, which prompted someone in the crowd to shout, “Down with the kaiser!” Another voice chimed in. “Down with the kaiser!” In a moment, the chant caught on, and dozens of voices were now joining in a chorus of “Down with the kaiser!” One lone voice added, “Go home, Willy, you gormless pillock!”
The kaiser did not turn to face the crowd, but Aggie was close enough to see one side of his moustache twitch spasmodically. “You British,” he said tightly, “make it very difficult to retain our friendly disposition.” Turning to a Prussian guard, he barked, “Achtung!”
The guard clicked his heels and saluted, then opened the carriage door.
“My humble apologies,” Moulsdale said, clearly fearing that the German emperor intended to climb back into the carriage and return to his lodgings. The kaiser held up a hand, forestalling any further speech.
“I believe your rabble require a little lesson in decorum.” Kaiser Wilhelm issued another string of German commands, and a second figure stepped down from the carriage. The soldier was strikingly tall—nearly seven feet, even without the spiked helmet—and strikingly ugly. He was broad shouldered in a Prussian blue uniform trimmed in red, but underneath the helmet, his skin was tinged an unhealthy green, with dark shadows obscuring his deep-set eyes and scars crisscrossing his cheeks and nose.
On closer inspection, Aggie saw that there were electrodes at the soldier’s neck, emerging from the collar of his uniform like the spikes of a weapon.
He’s a German Bio-Mechanical, she realized with a cold prickle of unease. Dodger’s grim prediction came back to her: If I stay, Ags, they’re going to stick me in a ring with some German killing machine. And you know as well as I do that I won’t last long.
Perhaps he had been right, but now it seemed he might not last regardless. Checking on him, she was relieved to find that his breathing was no longer labored, but his face was blank. She met Twist’s eyes, seeing her own concern mirrored there. Every moment that went by now put him at greater risk, but she could not figure out how to get him past the German emperor and the head of medicine. She looked around the courtyard, trying to figure out a way to get past the guards and through the front doors.
Suddenly, she spotted two familiar faces—Victor and Lizzie, looking shocked as they took in the scene unfolding before them.
She turned to Twist. “Do you think we could try—?” she began, but before she could finish her thought, the kaiser began addressing the crowd.
“My dear British subjects, thank you for your warm welcome.” The kaiser’s tone was dry, but the crowd fell silent when he spoke. The kaiser gestured grandly toward the German Bio-Mechanical soldier. “The German Empire is pleased to present our newest and most advanced model of Bio-Mechanisch. We call him Der Totenkopf—the death’s-head.”
There was a ripple of sound from the crowd. “Cor,” said one childish voice, “how’re our troops going to stand up to that?”
Slumped against the wall, Dodger shuddered.
“Don’t worry,” said Aggie. But when she looked down, she realized he wasn’t shivering in trepidation; he was having another seizure. His teeth were already clenched, so there was nothing she could do but lay him down and turn him on his side.
She was only dimly aware of the other drama playing out in front of her as the kaiser turned to Moulsdale with a look of triumph. “And now I am most eager to see your newest model, Professor. Where is he? Bring him out!”
Moulsdale cleared his throat and tugged at his coat collar as though it suddenly felt too tight. “If you had come a little later, we would have been entirely prepared a
nd had our Dreadnaught prototype ready to greet you,” he said. “As it is, I am afraid you will have to be a little patient.”
“I see,” said the kaiser, stroking the waxed tips of his moustache. His pale eyes registered everything—the unruly crowd, Moulsdale’s discomfort, the fact that the staff of the Royal Victoria were still unprepared just hours before his scheduled arrival.
Moulsdale made a flourishing gesture, like a circus ringmaster directing the audience’s attention away from an unexpected mishap. “Perhaps, if Your Majesty would come inside, we can offer you some tea and other refreshments?”
The kaiser was just taking a step toward Moulsdale when Dodger did something entirely unexpected. One moment, he was on the ground beside Aggie, knees drawn up to his chest, every muscle clenched in spasm. In the next, he sprang into a backbend before landing upright on the balls of his feet, as nimble as an acrobat.
The kaiser stopped in his tracks as he spotted the movement. “Gott im Himmel,” he exclaimed. “What is this?”
“Dodger?” Aggie took a hesitant step toward him. “Are you all right?”
He turned to her, and although his uncanny eyes were no longer spinning, there was no hint of recognition in them. Instead, they gleamed with feral intensity, as if lit from within by ichor-light.
“Unglaublich.”
Aggie turned. The kaiser was standing just behind her, his guards anxiously hovering at his side. “He is a new kind of Bio-Mechanical, yes?”
Dodger looked directly at the kaiser, his eyes turning with a click.
“Entirely new,” said Moulsdale, his momentary look of surprise quickly replaced by a showman’s gleam of satisfaction. “I hope Your Imperial Majesty will forgive the, ah, subterfuge, but we wished to surprise you.”
This rather rosy version of events was undermined by the guard, who stepped forward and said something in German. Aggie caught the words “royal touch” and “heilen,” which she supposed meant healing.
“Fascinating.” The kaiser stepped in front of Aggie. “So your plan is to emphasize visual acuity and speed over strength and durability, but the Bio-Mechanical has malfunctioned?” The kaiser smiled. “I would not have suspected England’s top scientists of being so superstitious, but if you desire a healing emperor’s touch, I can oblige.” He moved his hand toward Dodger, but before he could make contact, there was a blur of motion.
“Watch out!” Moulsdale unceremoniously pulled the kaiser out of the way as Dodger leaped onto the roof of the carriage with preternatural agility and speed.
Clerval’s black market ichor seemed to have some unexpected side effects, thought Aggie. Yet looking up at Dodger as he surveyed the scene below him, she had to wonder. How long would these effects last—and what toll would they take on Dodger’s body and mind? She looked for Lizzie and Victor and spotted them making their way toward Dodger.
“Mein Gott,” said the kaiser. “His reactions—incredible.”
“He is rather special, isn’t he?” Moulsdale beamed, as if he were personally responsible for Dodger’s reflexes. “Compact, responsive, fearless. We call this model...” he paused for dramatic effect “...the Dreadnaught.”
“Ripping! He has recovered,” exclaimed the kaiser. “Now we can pit your Dreadnaught against my Totenkopf and see which prevails.”
35
“Wake up.”
Will blinked up at his brother, confused. “Victor? What time is it?” The room was still dark, except for the small lantern in Victor’s hand. He didn’t think he had overslept, because he hadn’t had anything to drink for the past forty-eight hours. After the shock of watching Justine die—and then come back to life—he had desperately wanted a drink. But after he and Byram had made their way back to their room the night before last, he had been sober as a judge. Which made what happened afterward with Byram all the more incredible.
Byram. Oh, good Lord.
This was the second night they had spent together, and the initial giddy uncertainty was just now settling into joy. Or, at least, it had been, but now his brother was standing over his bed, fully dressed and stern-faced.
Bollocks. Will tried to pull the covers up, but Byram was already turning over, throwing an arm lazily over Will without opening his eyes.
“It can’t be morning yet,” said Byram. “I refuse to believe it’s morning.”
“It’s nearly 7:00 a.m.,” said Victor, addressing both of them with an aplomb that suggested he was not entirely surprised to find his younger brother sharing a narrow bed with his best friend. “You’ve overslept.”
Byram opened his eyes, looking thoroughly tousled and disreputable. There was a bruise-shaped mark on his neck, and if that wasn’t incriminating enough, neither he nor Will were wearing nightshirts. They had spent much of the night of Justine’s death and rebirth talking. Or rather, Byram had done most of the talking. For the first time, Byram had admitted how afraid he had been of needing and trusting someone when his own body was betraying him.
They had spent the second night not doing much talking at all.
And now his brother was standing over them. Zounds, thought Will. This was not the way he had wanted Victor to find out.
“What’s happened?” Byram swung his legs around, keeping his bad foot turned away from Victor.
“Be quiet and listen,” said Victor. “That will give you a clue.”
They were all silent. Outside the partially open window, they could hear the sound of a crowd, chanting, “Fight, fight, fight.”
“Not again,” said Byram, his dry tone contradicting the tense set of his jaw. “Don’t tell me the mob outside wants to set this school on fire.”
“Not at all,” said Victor. “But they do want blood. The kaiser arrived early, and Aggie just told me he wants Dodger to fight his Totenkopf right now, in front of the hospital gates.”
“Now?” Will rubbed his eyes, wishing he didn’t feel so tired.
“Yes, Will, now. And Moulsdale’s stalling while Aggie and Lizzie get the queen ready. Meanwhile, I need you to get out there to support Dodger. He trusts you.”
“What?” Will stared at his brother, then quickly turned his back and began pulling on his combinations. “I don’t understand.”
“Dodger tried some experimental treatment, and it’s sent him round the bend.” Victor shook his head. “The crazy part is that it might just give him the edge he needs against the German’s Bio-Mechanical.” Victor raked his hand through his hair. “I told him he wouldn’t have to fight the German. I gave him my word. If he dies...”
Will was buttoning his shirt. “But what can I do?”
Victor paused. “Be there for Dodger. He trusts you...and you never betrayed him.”
Will gave an involuntary shiver at Victor’s tone. “You’re being far too hard on yourself. As always. But I’ll be down in a moment.”
“Thank you, Will.”
Victor was halfway out the door, but Will could not let his brother go without saying something. “Victor...about Byram and me. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”
Victor turned. “I’m not judging you, Will. There are many who would call me an unnatural creature—”
“But only in an admiring sort of way,” said Byram as he tied his shoe. “Ooh, look at that good-looking unnatural creature.” In a different voice, he exclaimed, “What a fine specimen of an unnatural creature! Y’know, Gladys, sometimes, I kind of wishes me ’arold were more of a hunnatural creature.”
“—and yet I seem to have granted myself the right to love and be loved,” Victor went on, without missing a beat. “I can’t see denying anyone else that same freedom. Even if your taste is appalling.” His eyes sparkled as he said it.
“He is appalling, isn’t he?” Will held his brother’s gaze for a moment, but the moment was a bit too fraught with emotion, so he said, “Well, then,” and busi
ed himself with attaching his collar. “Let’s go witness history.”
* * *
“Your Majesty, please,” said Aggie, following Queen Victoria around with her black silk dress. “We have to get you dressed.”
“Yes, yes,” said the queen. “But which face to wear to greet my grandson?”
I’d like to rearrange your face, you old bat, thought Aggie. The kaiser had reluctantly agreed to wait half an hour for his grandmother to arrive, but now they had less than ten minutes left before Dodger and the Totenkopf faced off in front of the hospital and an increasingly unruly crowd. But the queen was refusing to cooperate. “How about this,” Aggie said, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. “Let’s get the dress on while you figure out the face?”
Victoria stopped pacing her room and allowed Aggie to help her insert one arm into a sleeve. “You don’t understand,” said the queen, sounding peevish. “The costume is a given. The mask is the ticklish mutable.”
Aggie glanced over at Lizzie, who was collapsed in a chair by the queen’s bed. “I thought you said she was lucid?”
“She was,” said Lizzie, barely managing to cover a yawn with her hand. “I was up with her till nearly ten last night, working on her magnetic fields. She sounded perfectly sane when I went to bed.”
“She isn’t addled,” said an unfamiliar voice. “She’s just wired a little differently than she used to be.”
For a moment, Aggie didn’t recognize the lovely young woman standing in the doorway next to Ursula Shiercliffe. She was dressed like Shiercliffe’s younger sister in a severely elegant black dress, her dark blond hair smoothed back into a chignon. Was this some society girl who had decided to become a nurse? Then comprehension dawned. She stopped herself from saying Justine’s name out loud just in time.
Aggie glanced over at Lizzie, who was hastily sitting up and trying to repin her bun, which had slipped sideways. Lizzie gave a subtle shrug, apparently as confused as Aggie was.
Corpse & Crown Page 24
