Steamscape Page 8

  Drina waved at him. “Help us!”

  Theo, gulping for air, tried to nod. He kicked and paddled his way over toward them, unable to fight the river’s flow. The water felt like the sucking sensation when he had trapped his boots in the mud, but now it was trapping his entire body, pulling him ever deeper.

  Meanwhile, Jing clung to his barrel with white knuckles. His jaw was set and he stared straight ahead.

  Drina leaned to her side, grabbed the barrel in one hand and started to kick, her face set in the same determined grimace. Theo, swallowing river water, joined her. Splinters cut into his fingers and palm, but he barely noticed. Eventually, they drifted downstream to the rocky bank of the river.

  They stood, covered in mud and watery weeds, to see some of the still-burning pieces of the flatboat curve around the bend.

  “Ganther was still on that thing,” Theo murmured.

  Drina shrugged. “Buried at sea is what he would’ve wanted. Probably. But very classical, the burning boat.”

  “Not in the civilized parts of the world,” Jing said. “Not to mention that this isn’t a sea.”

  The cook shaded her eyes and leaned against the barrel. “Still, fire is what Flame does.”

  Theo grabbed his chest and jerked forward, suddenly in shock. He tried to move his mouth, but no sounds escaped. He couldn’t breathe. Flame! That had really been Flame!

  Jing looked like a crate of T.N.T also ready to explode. “How could he have known? No one knew.”

  “Not until Smith.”

  The mechanic whistled. “You think they’re working together?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Flame!” Theo wheezed. “That really was Flame.” His eyes widened. “And I didn’t kill him! I couldn’t even move! Merlina even said–”

  “And Cylinder is with him!” Drina gasped. “That poor child has never been away from us, and now she’s with that senseless moron.” She curled her hands into fists and met Jing’s eyes. “But we tried to prepare her.”

  He shook his head. “No, we didn’t. We just tried to protect her.”

  Nothing moved in between the three of them except the wind for a moment.

  Theo pointed downriver. “I think I see some smoke that way. Might be a town, or a camp with traders.”

  “Or a camp with soldiers,” Jing sighed.

  Drina stepped behind the mechanic and pushed. “There’ll be coffee either way. Come on, boys.”

  They stomped away from the sandy shore.

  Theo licked his lips and stared down at Jing’s leg, which was still leaking water. “You alright?”

  Jing grunted and kept on with his steady, unending limp. “Yeah.”

  Theo eyed Jing’s mechanical leg. “But the river, you have no steam left.”

  “I can fix it,” the mechanic grunted.

  Drina kicked at the nearest tree and then swiped her hand, bent like a claw, at its trunk. “Mark told us to protect her. Those were our orders.”

  The mechanic grunted again.

  “Our orders. The only thing we’re good at.”

  Theo opened his mouth, but quickly shut it.

  Finally, Jing replied, “We’re just going to have to figure this out on our own.”

  ***

  The smoke turned out to be from a town, housing forty to fifty people. Underneath the stronger smell of burning coal, the scent of baking bread soon teased on the breeze.

  Theo licked his lips. He was already drooling. His stomach started to yowl and tremble on its own and he couldn’t help himself. They stepped out into the dirt street. A waterwheel turned alongside a building on the river, and several small steampipes left the tiny boiler house to spread their fingers throughout the town.

  The only two visible people turned their faces away from them and ducked inside the nearest structure. Theo slowed his pace and leaned back to the other two. “This ain’t such a good idea.”

  “Too late now.” Drina pointed ahead to what was both the dry goods store and the local eating hole. The scent of honeyed wheat baking amplified in the wind. Theo nodded dumbly, his stomach already protesting.

  The boards creaked against their boots on the wooden sidewalk as they stepped up to the store. They pushed through the doors to find what appeared to be most of the town inside. Pale faces with sunken eyes swung toward them.

  The men were smoking their pipes almost feverishly. Women, in respectful if dirty high-collared dresses, rested shoulder to shoulder, leaning on each other. No one spoke.

  The only person not staring at them was a man in the back, obscured by the crowd, and playing the keyboard. The notes were twangy and slightly out of tune, but nevertheless, the player was pulling out a graceful melody.

  Overhead hung a dead ceiling fan, usually powered by a pair of chains that disappeared into the establishment’s ceiling. “No steam,” Jing murmured.

  “No children,” Theo whispered.

  This is a trap, the dark voice said. The bricoleur’s fingers tingled.

  The piano hit a discord and the player grunted.

  The man in black twisted around on the player’s swivel stool. Smith flipped the bowler hat back on his head, but didn’t smile.

  That survivalist instinct voiced itself again as it massaged the back of Theo’s neck. Run away. This government’s man won’t bother you. Leave them to their fate.

  “I heard the explosion.” Smith pulled the glass cane away from the wall and leaned his weight on it, still sitting in the chair. “Sound carries so far on the water. As far as a rumor, they say.” He stood up. “Where’s my vessel?”

  Theo froze, just as helpless now as he had been with Flame.

  Drina suddenly sniffed. She brushed her face, still damp with river water, and streaked the mud across her cheek. She shook her head. “She didn’t make it.”

  Smith tapped his cane on the floor. “You’ve learnt to act, Ms. de Avila. Well done, but I doubt you’ve ever shed a tear at a death.”

  She sniffled again, but couldn’t hide the flash of surprise and then contempt from her face.

  Smith frowned. “Please.” He reached into his pocket and tossed out a yellowing photograph. It drifted across the air and landed in front of Jing’s metal foot. Theo stared. He unconsciously backed away from them.

  Smith continued, “Yes, I know who you were, Ms. de Avila. Or should I call you by your true name, Ms. Death Spinner?”

  Still glaring at him, she squatted and picked up the photograph. Her own face stared back at her from over twenty years ago. Jing glanced over her shoulder and grimaced.

  They were all there. Mark Canon/Silvermark holding his silver-plated rifle. Stetson James/Parrot nonchalantly drinking a brandy while still managing his trademark smirk. There was herself, glaring at the cameraman with a taut garrote cord in her hands. Jing/Ghost was behind her, and he looked the same as ever, metal leg included. Next to him was Sava Zhidkov/Steam Slayer leaning on his homemade, shoulder-mounted cannon. And lastly, Flame, just Flame, holding what appeared to be a magical fireball but was actually a mirror lost in the camera’s flash.

  The Hex.

  Theo snatched the picture from Drina. He found his thoughts stuttering. The photograph was even labeled and dated with a Codic military archive stamp.

  The Hex.

  Smith smirked. “It was your leg, Mr. Li, which pointed me in your direction.”

  Theo stepped back away from them. He raised an accusing finger. “Y-You! Y-You knew Flame!”

  Smith swatted Theo’s hand aside with the length of the glass cane. “Killers, the lot of them, and so on and so forth.” He narrowed his gaze at Drina and then Jing. “Where have you hidden my vessel?”

  Jing shook his head.

  “I’ll give you a medal for not just walking into town with her, but if you don’t tell me where the young lady is, I shall have to boil this town’s children alive.” He retrieved his own cipher medallion from his vest pocket, just as casually as one would retrieve a pocket watch. “Not
that I would ever suspect you to care about them, but if you don’t, well, mob rule is so messy.”

  He shifted back far enough so that the trio could view the huddled crowd behind him.

  “They know that only I can safely rescue them. If those poor kids die, and you did nothing to save them… Tsk, tsk.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Everyone spun to find this new confident speaker. Theo nearly slapped his hand over his mouth as he realized it was him. The vicious corner of his mind eased out his next words like a snake gliding through the grass. “You’ve got Ghost here. The Hex are Eliponesia’s patron saints.” He nodded at Jing. “He can do anything with the mechanics and steam. That’s why he’s called Ghost.”

  Smith raised an eyebrow, probably stretched it to the limit of his patience. He leaned forward. “Young master, I know more than the stories. I know their histories. And I very much doubt that even Ghost can speak to the steam ghosts better than me.”

  Theo also leaned in and whispered, “But what does the mob believe, sir?”

  Smith stood up straight, a scowl replacing any smirk he might have worn. “Who are you, boy?”

  Theo shrugged sharply. “Just a bricoleur.”

  “Is that so? I am Deputy Liaison to President LaBier.”

  “So it is Codic that wants her,” Drina said.

  “Just dead, I assure you.” Smith offered a stiff smile. “Although I am not surprised that this vessel survived with protection from you. Your sudden dissolution was a disaster for both the government and Steampower. But as you can see, we’ve learned to live without you.”

  “But not with each other, apparently,” Jing remarked.

  “You never found the Hex though, Mr. Smith,” Drina growled.

  Smith doffed his bowler hat. “I was never hunting you. Nor am I frightened by your legend, but Codic might still have use for your skills.” He glared. “But alas, you cannot be trusted.”

  “I will never work for Steampower or Codic again.” Drina drew up her chin. “Unlike you.”

  Smith chuckled. “Dear, I only draw my wages from Codic. I work for the Priory.”

  Chapter Nine

  This room smelled like perfume and wine. Solindra hadn’t seen anything since that night on the river. Flame had stuffed a bag over her head, and she had no idea how long it had been. It felt like days. Or weeks. Or hours. She couldn’t tell.

  But she knew she had gone from a long ride on the water to marching through some paved streets, and now she was in this sweet-scented room. She gulped and pressed her shoulders against the back of the chair. No escape that way; it was taller than she was.

  And dangerously comfortable. Her head nodded forward and she fought against a yawn.

  Someone yanked off the hood. She blinked in the soft, warm sunlight of the room. The ceiling was high, and gold paint and foil lined the gothic arches overhead.

  Flame eclipsed her vision. “You got weird eyes, girlie.” Immediately, he turned away to a sylph sitting behind a huge, mahogany desk. “Your delivery. Special.”

  He stood directly in Solindra’s view of the other woman.

  “Unburnt this time,” a mellifluous voice said evenly.

  Flame snorted. His motion caused his pistols and swords to grind against each other. “It was only his toes. And fingers.” He paused. “And nose. He was fine.”

  “He only lived two hours, Mr. Flame.”

  The Hex member shrugged. “My fee.”

  A heavy leather pouch clinked as the woman rolled it across the desk. She sighed, and even that sounded like the most expensive thing Solindra had ever heard. She felt like she was wasting this woman’s time, and she should pay for it.

  “And…?” he prompted. “Your information is the best in the world. Maybe the rumors about you are true. How else could you have known about this one?” He jerked his thumb at Solindra.

  The voice replied gracefully, “The board considers you to be more perilous than what you can deliver to our war effort. Your life is to be liquidated, Mr. Flame.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I’ll just burn down their homes, steam chariots and families before they’ll ever ignite me.” He hummed to himself a little. “But they’ll whine, and then they’ll treat me like I’m standing in their way again. Pah!” He started cleaning out his ear with a finger, humming to himself.

  “Yes, they say that you’re a fine asset as long as you’re in the enemy’s camp, but sometimes you venture home.”

  Flame shrugged. “I am what I am.”

  “Please go now, sir.”

  “But don’t you want to know who was guarding this little strawberry? You’d be surprised.”

  The tone of voice didn’t change. “Mr. Flame, you are dismissed.”

  He sneered. “There’s only one woman I’ll take that tone from.”

  “And I strongly suspect that you saw her recently.”

  Flame clicked his heels and hummed to himself before turning away. He slammed the door behind him.

  “Please forgive him.”

  Solindra had already forgotten him. She stared. She knew the slender face of Steam Princess Adri Saturni. The young woman hadn’t been able to forget the picture of the face she’d so recently tossed overboard.

  The small woman loomed so large in her vision. Adri really was svelte, but wore a beautiful forest green dress with a padded bust and rear bustle to make it look like she carried some attractive weight. Her blond-white hair was bound up in golden chains, winding smoothly into an array of curls against her dark face.

  Adri folded her slender fingers together on the desktop. “I had to tell him that you were a spy. To protect you, you understand. I’m not sure how much he knows about vessels.”

  “More than me,” Solindra replied sharply. Then her jaw dropped and she shriveled up inside. How dare she raise her voice at this woman she had dreamed of all these years! But her tongue continued on without her, “I’m not even sure what a vessel is.”

  “A very useful person in the war effort,” Adri answered evenly.

  “Why is there even a war?” She was already flying and light-headed, so why not ask? She gulped. “Why did Steampower attack Codic? Everyone says that Boras Saturni just wanted it all. That Steampower wasn’t enough anymore. I rode the Killing Train. I saw the burnt-out cities. What is it that Steampower wants? Because I can’t think of anything it doesn’t already have.”

  “Love.”

  Solindra froze. She blinked, suddenly off-balance even while seated.

  Adri graced the room with a smile. Her eyes sparkled. “It’s such a sad tale, what my father did for my mother and this horrible catastrophe that followed.”

  “This can’t be about love.” Solindra’s voice sounded hollow even to herself. “I rode the Killing Train…”

  “Love stories made famous usually do not end well.” Adri straightened her shoulders against her high-backed chair. “However, it is a tale for later, little bird. I think for now you need to know what you are.”

  Solindra’s throat dried. “How did you know about me?”

  Adri pursed her lips. “Smith is too confident in his own cyphers.”

  “You had him followed?”

  “No. Why bother to follow the man when one can follow his words? He dutifully reports back to his masters like clockwork.” She pushed the chair back and rose as fluidly as water. “More over lunch, perhaps? I imagine your stomach is turning by now.”

  It was true. Solindra clutched her gut and felt her stomach rumbling underneath her skin. She barely glanced up as the steam princess moved to stand beside her.

  Adri reached across the desk and lifted up a dainty glass bell with a long telegraph wire attached inside the clapper. It chimed like a songbird. Within a minute, servants wheeling trolleys of food with steaming meat, vegetables and breads padded silently into the office.

  “I’m in Redjakel, aren’t I?” Solindra swallowed, trying not to salivate at the sight. “That’s where Steampower’s heart is.” />
  “Steam Central.” Adri nodded and her smile spread while the servants laid out the feast on the buffet. Everything was on gold or silver trays. Wine sparkled in a crystal pitcher at the end of the line of steaming, sweet smelling food.

  Just as quickly and silently, the servants streamed out again. Adri kept staring at Solindra’s otherworldly, steam-colored eyes. She unfolded her fingers toward the buffet. “Please, my dear.”

  In a daze, Solindra managed to unlock her legs and shuffle to the table. Adri did not follow. Could all of this food be just for her? She couldn’t eat this much in two years!

  Still in that almost dream-like state, Solindra loaded a silver plate with food. She stared at the array of forks, not knowing which to choose, and licked her lips.

  Adri appeared at her left, holding two crystal wine glasses. She held one out in Solindra’s direction and then turned and swept back across the room to the desk. She set both glasses on what looked to be diamond coasters.

  The steam princess sipped her wine as Solindra returned to her seat. The girl tried to balance the plate on her knees. She didn’t dare set it on the desk.

  “You will act as my personal maid – no one else need know anything more – and in return, I will teach you how to use a sancta.”

  Solindra swallowed a mouthful of bread that was as light as a cloud. “But what about my fam– my friends?”

  “Oh. Oh dear. I’m afraid they were lost on the river.”

  “They survived. I know them.” But she hesitated.

  “And Smith had set a trap for you in the next town. It was too much for any soldier, I’m so sorry.” The smile replaced any concern. “But you have shelter here and shall want for nothing, not even during this dreadful war.”

  Solindra dropped her eyes to the silver plate overflowing with food. “But...”

  Adri brought Solindra’s crystal chalice in front of the young woman’s face. “Have a sip, bird. You’re safe within these walls.”

  Solindra eyed the gilded framings of the office again. She accepted the wine into her fingertips and its sudden weight surprised her. Its scent wafted above the glass, sweet and tangy.