This Deadly Engine Read online

  “Lady, I have seen enough of life to last me the rest of my own days. Why would I want to live someone else’s?” I started to rise. “Find another lackey to do your Mistress’ bidding. I’ll not have anyth—”

  “Transformation,” she said and added nothing else.

  Curiosity forced me to sit again. “Pardon me?”

  “So now you find yourself intrigued?”

  “If you offered flight, I would find myself intrigued. Transformation makes me curious.” So far as I knew, no human had experienced the power. Not even Pienne, with all his knowledge and resources, could concoct an elixir to make me change physical form. Yet such a spell had to hold a terrible side-effect, like changing my leg into a tree or a chair or some other preposterous object. “What are you proposing I transform into?”

  Despite expecting her to say I would become a woodpecker or mangy mutt, her response surprised nonetheless. “A vaphaineer, or what you like to call a cyclops.”

  I motioned to my slender form. “This body? Into the size and muscles of a cyclops?” The preposterousness of it all made me laugh.

  “When it concerns magic, there is no reason to laugh. I offer you the life of a cyclops. What do you say?”

  “Will I be handsomer than Hansan? Or Jansan, if you prefer.” Could I truly match the physical characteristics of the twin doormen at Branagh’s?

  “Are you trying to make a joke?” the elf asked with her serious tone.

  “No, not at all.” I almost sounded sincere. “Magic is always serious with me.”

  “As serious as anything else is with you?” She gave me the chance to respond, but I refused. “So embrace this opportunity, and rescue a magical item.”

  “Why a cyclops?”

  “Your enemies will not expect such a form. The transformation will create enough physical changes so the bloodhunters cannot track your scent.” She motioned to the front of the sanctuary.

  I turned to see whom she motioned to and almost yelled.

  Pienne wobbled down the aisle, making the blubber on his cheeks jiggle. Bushy brown hair covered his head as always. He wiped his protruding forehead as he gave a half-smile.

  I hurried to greet him with a handshake. “Pienne, you’re alive!”

  He shrank back at the friendly exchange. “Pienne is most fortunate to have survived,” he said with his French accent. “He thanks the nice lady behind Alexander for convincing Pienne to leave.”

  “I thought you died in the explosion. Your lab…”

  The man pointed a pudgy finger at me. “Did Alexander betray The Company? Did he tell The Gatherers where they could be found? Why did he betray our masters? Does Alexander hate them so much that he allowed them to be destroyed, that he allowed Pienne’s labors to be erased in the breath of a moment?”

  “Pienne,” I whispered. “It wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with the building being blown to bits.” Did he think so little of me? “What would I gain by betraying you?”

  His brow narrowed so that the tips of his eyebrows touched. “The trust of Duke Schaever, a pardon for Alexander’s crimes, the removal of the bounty from his head. Running for weeks and the need for a sustaining elixir made Alexander desperate.”

  “Pienne, I don’t like our masters. I have never hidden my feelings concerning them. You know that. But I would not lead Schaever’s men to the doorstep.”

  When the toady man snarled, his large lips tried to part enough to show his teeth. However, with all the fat on his face, he could not quite accomplish the feat. “Pienne saw Alexander. He saw him leading Duke Schaever’s Guardsmen and the bloodhunters. Why did he lead them to Pienne’s home?”

  “Because I needed to get away from them! I only had one place left to go. I intended to use the secret entrance you showed me.”

  “The one Pienne made Alexander promise never to use?”

  I wanted to shake understanding into the man, yet attempting to do so would only make him angrier. “I could not escape the bloodhunters. You were the only friend I thought I could trust to help.”

  Pienne’s scowl eased. “If Alexander did not reveal the location of Pienne’s laboratory, then who did?”

  It took little thought as to where to point the finger…to the man who wished to remain in Schaever’s good graces, the man for which such information would assure his continued favor, the man who risked everything he had for the love of a mechanical creature.

  I said, almost under my breath, “Reckard. His loyalties are with Schaever.”

  The toady man nodded. “A possible explanation, Pienne believes. He does not understand all of Reckard’s reasons for doing so.”

  “Reckard tried to kill me when I captured Lady Elizabeth. He already made known where his loyalties were. He had nothing to lose by the destruction of The Company.”

  “And he tried to kill Pienne.” The man wiped his forehead with a lace cloth.

  “Pienne’s lab has been replaced,” the elf said. “We waste time by discussing these matters further. Where can we go to begin your transformation?”

  The matter of my agreement remained one of debate in spite of her assumption. I asked, “What am I supposed to do if I agree to become this cyclops? Schaever doesn’t let just any creature from your world close to his inner circle of friends and advisors.” A cyclops with one eye and a silly piece of glass in the front of my helmet?

  “We have spent a considerable amount of time and resources selecting the individual. He is in full agreement with what we are doing.” She held a small vial in her hand, and within it swirled oranges and greens in circling patterns. Pienne wiped the corner of his mouth as he stared at it. “You will find him most interesting.” She peered at me over the top of the vial. “And you will gain insight into my world the likes of which no one of your kind has known. It will be as if you lived in my world, breathed in my world, loved in my world, feared in my world.” She paused. “So what say you now, Alexander Asherton?”

  What could I say to becoming a cyclops, living another creature’s life, walking into the home of the one man who wanted me dead more than any other on the earth, rescuing Rebecca and her father, and living to see another day? Oh…and trying to capture the legendary Gray Heart by willingly walking into a trap? I only had one answer for such insanity. “N—”

  “Ash!” Cavendish motioned to me. “A word if you don’t mind?”

  I shrugged and followed the gnome deeper into the nave. He removed his helmet and spun it in his hands. “You know how much the Gray Heart means to me. I will do anything to find it.”

  I took a deep breath. I meant my next words to be every bit as harsh as they sounded. “No, Cavendish, I don’t know how much it means to you. Will its power save Ravenlea? Will finding it restore you to your people? Why is it so important that you willingly risk the life of a friend, the certain death of that friend, to capture it?”

  His forehead creased, and he balled his hands into fists. “I do not ask this without concern for you, Ash. I am not Reckard. I am also neither Aimee nor Sheela, who only do their masters’ bidding.” He stomped once. “The Gray Heart holds the power to change everything. Will it save Ravenlea?” He took a deep breath. “I believe it can. Will saving her restore my standing with my family? Perhaps. But most important of all is the fact that the Heart is needed to save Reganas Nine and our civilization.” He glanced over my shoulder. “What she refuses to acknowledge is the Elders are losing. With every piece of technology from your world, Frengarn and the orcs grow stronger. The only hope the elves have is to counter the science with greater magic. The Heart is one of the most powerful of all.”

  “How?” I asked. “What does it do?” I needed to know in case I agreed to the madness. I needed to understand how it would help save the Donnavans.

  He squeezed his helmet. “The Gray Heart is what remains of the gnome magic. Many generations ago, during the last days of the First Great Conflict, the gnomes who possessed magical abilities gathered to discuss the future of the Family
.” He closed his eyes. “Elves and orcs alike viewed us as less than deserving of life. They hunted and killed us for sport. In those days, dragons gained an appreciation for gnome meat.” He opened his eyes and looked through me. “Our mages feared being hunted to extinction, leaving our people with no magical defense. After much debate, they decided the best way to preserve their power was to put it all in one place – the Gray Heart.”

  Magic always had a price. “What did it cost them?”

  He focused on my eyes. “Their lives. They transferred their power to the Heart, and the subsequent break from magic proved fatal.”

  I whispered, “How many?”

  “Two hundred nineteen.” He motioned for me to remain quiet. “To assure that the Heart would forever reside with our people, we placed it in a pendant worn at all times by our Mother. Each time the throne is relinquished to the Daughter, so also is control of the Heart relinquished.”

  “And Ravenlea was supposed to receive the Heart?”

  He nodded. “Someone stole it before her Mother passed it to her. She and I worked tirelessly to find it, knowing that if our Brothers learned it was missing Ravenlea would be deposed and her line disgraced for all time. It would also weaken our standing with the other races.”

  Finally…Cavendish revealed his greatest secret. “When she went missing you took the blame for losing her and the Heart. That is why your Family exiled you.”

  He stared at his helmet. “Now you know why I am so determined to find it.”

  I glanced at the Treyo Duthku. “According to her, the Heart has been missing for many years…how old are you, Cavendish?”

  “Three hundred fifty-nine. We age differently in my world. Time is not exactly the same as it is here.”

  Still…in human years that meant Cavendish lived during Elizabeth’s reign, Charles’ execution, the Great Fire of London, and the war with the American colonies, just to name but a few significant events. I could not imagine seeing so many changes. Cavendish deserved far more respect than I had given him, especially considering his unending devotion to his lady.

  I asked, “Do you believe the elf? Do you believe Schaever truly possesses the Heart?”

  He nodded again. “The fact that he has Ravenlea tells me he also has the Heart. I…cannot…let this opportunity pass. I need your help.”

  “By becoming something and someone else?”

  “You have the skills. We found a cyclops willing to help. The two of you will make a formidable foe for Duke Schaever and for Reckard.” He put a hand on my arm. “As mad as the plan sounds, I believe we can succeed.”

  “With what you have at stake you hope it succeeds.”

  The gnome blushed. “Maybe.”

  I had to know. “Can I use the Heart’s power to save the Donnavans?”

  His eyes grew wide. “No, Ash! The magic is too strong. It will kill anyone who uses it who is untrained in such power, especially if you are not a gnome.”

  I poked him in the chest. “So it can save your lady and your Reganas, but I’m on my own when it comes to anything I care about?”

  The gnome shook his head slowly. He pressed his lips tight.

  I poked him again. “Am I correct?”

  He stepped back and whispered, “No, Ash. I will help you…but you cannot use the Heart. It will kill you. We’ll find another way to save your lady and her family.”

  “She is not my lady, and if I die trying to steal the Heart, then they will have no one to help them.”

  Cavendish looked at me with pleading eyes. “I would not ask you to go through this if I didn’t think we had a chance to succeed. Though I will say again that our success is not guaranteed.”

  I gave him a look as if to say he made the biggest understatement in the history of understatements. “There is too much risk, Cavendish. Too much can go wrong.”

  He squeezed my arm. “I will go with you, too. I will not ask you to risk your life if I am unwilling to do the same.”

  I motioned to the Treyo Duthku. “She agreed to let you go?”

  “Yes.”

  A suddenly reawakened voice said, “Tread carefully. What you consider is more than madness. It invites the potential of terrible pain on your part.”

  Indeed. And the cost could be immeasurable. What would happen to me? Would the transformation be permanent? Would I lose myself? Would that be so great a loss? The world would not mourn my passing. In fact, it would be all the better for it. Fewer good intentions that would turn bad. Less chaos and suffering.

  The canon asked, “And what of Rebecca Donnavan?”

  As if he read my thoughts, Cavendish said, “We will find the Donnavans. Help me with this, Ash, and I promise that I will move both of our worlds to save them.” He spoke with sincerity. He would do anything to save Ravenlea, even if it meant taking the blame for something he had no control over to spare her standing with their people.

  Could I do the same if I found myself in similar circumstances?

  I asked, “If the Heart is so dangerous, how will you use it to save your lady?”

  “I have made arrangements for others to use the Heart’s power. If it is possible to free her, they will do so.”

  “And you trust them?” I almost told him what Reckard said – that the ones in the tanks had to die. Yet…Ravenlea had not been replaced with a mechanical doppelganger. Perhaps she still lived.

  “As much as I can trust anyone.” He pressed my hand between his tiny ones. “Please, Ash. I need your help.”

  The thought of walking into a Schaever trap made my belly ache. Yet I would not refuse a friend at the time of his greatest need.

  Before the little canon argued further, I said, “I’ll do it.”

  Cavendish replaced his helmet and shook my hand. “Ash, I owe you more than you know. Thank you. And we will save the Donnavans. I promise.”

  When I told the elf of my decision she said, “Very well. Is there a place to administer the potion without interruption?” She handed the vial to Pienne, who cradled it in his hands like he handled a newborn babe.

  “The Bishop’s study,” I said. “He obviously has no need of the room.”

  Not at the moment. Yet I would make sure he resided at Saint James’ again. I would save him. I would save Rebecca.

  In the end, nothing else mattered.

  Not even my own life.

  Chapter 6

  What would it be like to live someone else’s life? How different did the world appear through someone else’s eyes? What did he experience? How did those events shape his outlook?

  How did Moses view the parting of the Red Sea? How large did Goliath appear to David, a boy? What thoughts ran through William the Conqueror’s mind when he set foot on English soil at the start of his invasion? Did Napoleon see an easy conquest when he viewed the hills around Waterloo? What did Schaever’s grandfather expect when he turned on the power to the Gateway for the first time?

  I could continue with endless speculations, imaginings, and possibilities. To ponder and wonder was one matter. To have the opportunity to learn was another entirely. Questions about the unknown made sweat break out on my forehead.

  What would I become? Would I remain me, or become someone else entirely?

  The opportunity also stirred curiosity and anticipation.

  What was the magical realm? What was life like there?

  I was about to learn through someone with an intimate knowledge.

  The canon said, “You might cease to exist. You might not survive.”

  True…but the secrets of the magical realm beckoned. So many exotic creatures called it home, and I could learn far more than I ever hoped. I would understand the world in ways I never imagined.

  At what cost, though? Would the cyclops consume me?

  Would I ever be the same?

  Did I want to be?

  Questions and more questions. They would drive me as mad as the transformation. In order to take my mind off of them, I asked Pienne, “What
should I expect as a side effect?”

  The toady man prepared a needle. The evil, pointed instrument of pain epitomized the dangers associated with the procedure. Pienne’s shrug did nothing for reassurance. “Pienne cannot say, for he has never used such magic.” A bead of sweat ran down his cheek. “Pienne only hopes that Alexander survives the transformation. This will stretch his body in new and strange ways. And what of Alexander’s eyes? Will they merge? Maybe he will be a two-eyed cyclops.” He glanced at the elf. “Under different circumstances, Pienne would advise against so dramatic of a change. But he is not in a position to tell Alexander what to do.”

  “This is my choice, Pienne.”

  The toady man stepped closer and whispered, “Pienne wants to know if Alexander has a possession that he feels a particular attachment to. Does he have something special in case he needs a reminder of who he is?”

  The question did nothing to reassure me. “Should I be concerned?”

  The man shrugged again. “Pienne only wants to account for any possible problems, for any possible side effects.”

  The only item I owned was the locket Rebecca had given me with her portrait. I handed it to him, then held his hand between my own. Somehow I managed to keep them from shaking. “Pienne, I trust you to do your best. You will see me through this.”

  His brow raised, and for a moment his eyelashes stuck out. “Alexander’s elven benefactor might have more to do with keeping Pienne’s friend alive than does Pienne himself.”

  I focused on the Treyo Duthku to keep from staring at the needle shaking in Pienne’s hand. “So who is the cyclops in that concoction?”

  She spoke as if she felt some fondness for the creature. “Someone who understands the importance of what we do. He possesses the perfect set of complementary skills to your own. I am curious as to what the resulting combination will create.”

  “Where is he? Is he alive or did you have to kill him?” Did it work the same as the magic that brought the automatons to life? “How, exactly, did you put him in an elixir?”

  “The means and the methods go beyond your understanding. All you need to know is that he will be as connected to you are you will be to him. Whatever happens to you will happen to him.”