This Deadly Engine Page 13

  All at once, my heart beat faster, and my blood pumped harder. Did Pienne inject me with a concentrated formula of coffee?

  The elf said, “Enough of your attempts. I will—”

  I blinked once before repeating the plan as told to me at least a dozen times by the elf. Schaever had placed the Heart in the Sleeping Beauty display in the ‘Myths and Legends’ exhibit. A small train carried passengers through a dozen rooms that brought legendary figures to life. Four Guardsmen, a steel cage suspended overhead, and a cyclops – which would be me – all guarded Sleeping Beauty herself. Cavendish would cause a distraction elsewhere in the exhibit and draw all but two Guardsmen away. I would then take the locket containing the Gray Heart from the slumbering automaton’s neck. When the alarm sounded, gas – harmless to cyclopes – would be released. Once I disabled the remaining Guardsmen and escaped, I would meet the Treyo Duthku at Branagh’s. She would then take the Heart and be escorted by Cavendish to the magical realm.

  The elf nodded when I finished. “I will remind you one more time that you are not to use the Gray Heart. It is far too dangerous for someone untrained, and far too valuable for our side to lose it to inexperienced hands.”

  “And I will ask again…why me? Of what use am I?”

  She paused. When she answered, her tone bordered on anger. “I told you once. I will not repeat myself.”

  “So if anything goes badly, I am expendable. Perrin as well…or at least this version of him.”

  The elf simply stared.

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  “Once you give me the Gray Heart, I will do what I can to save your lady. Does that satisfy you?” Before I answered, she looked at Cavendish. “You disabled the cage?”

  My friend gave her his snarl-grin. “I snuck in last night after the Expo closed. The cage will not work.” He gave me a nod of confidence.

  I said, “If you snuck inside, why did you not take the Heart?”

  He put his hands on his hips. “Because they remove the Gray Heart at the end of each day. They are afraid that by leaving such a valuable item that we might guess its counterfeit nature.”

  The Treyo Duthku cleared her throat as she stood. “You had best be on your way.” She waved for me to leave with Cavendish. “Our world depends on your success.” Though the words carried a heavy burden, she spoke them with a dismissive tone as if she truly did not believe I would succeed.

  Does she know something and chooses not to tell me?

  Did the answer to the question matter? I committed myself to the fool’s errand and would see it through to the end.

  I followed Cavendish into the hallway. The walls stretched longer than normal…or so they seemed. When I reached out to steady myself, I had to try twice before touching the side.

  Cavendish looked at me. He appeared so much smaller. “Ash? Are you sure you can do this? Another day—”

  “And we lose our opportunity to steal the Heart because Schaever gives up on the trap. And Rebecca’s trail grows colder. And you lose another day with Ravenlea. And the Elders grow more restless.” My head throbbed and honestly, my entire body still ached from being stretched and twisted and contorted. Pienne’s concoctions helped speed the recovery, yet I could have used more time…which I obviously did not have. “Tell me again why this is a good idea? We are willingly walking into a trap because we believe Schaever does not expect us to?”

  Cavendish rearranged the watches on his arms. “For the hundredth time, I admit it isn’t the best plan, Ash, but what choice do we have? We will do this. We will win this time.” He shook his fists for emphasis. “If we succeed, we will put an end to our problems for all time.”

  “What do you mean if? I thought you said we would win.”

  “Of course I meant when we succeed.” He stomped ahead.

  If we somehow managed to pull off the theft and rescued the Donnavans, then I could leave Campden with no worries.

  I asked, “So where did you find this cyclops? And why was he so willing to let me transform into him? And where is the real one?”

  We reached the end of the corridor and a door that led to the streets of Campden. For the first time in months, I could walk among the people as a free man. Well, a free man of sorts. I would not need to sneak around in the shadows or keep one eye, or my only eye, on the sky for an airship.

  Cavendish said, “I have known Perrin for many years. He has a reputation as a feared orc hunter. While such notoriety might seem like a complication for our current endeavor, most assumed he died in the Lefthwin Mines. No one expects to see him.” The gnome opened the door.

  Even as Cavendish spoke, I remembered meeting him and the Treyo Duthku in a stone-walled tavern that served a good Plentiar pastry with the Zimmeran jelly on top.

  What is a Plentiar pastry?

  The Perrin voice answered, “A satisfying food when you have a long shift ahead.”

  Indeed. The fact that I wished for one at that moment made me pause.

  I had never eaten a Plentiar pastry…yet I had enjoyed them many times. The surrealness of both realities made my head ache once again. Only when the fresh air that embraced me like a long-lost friend as I emerged from the confines of the Cathedral helped to calm the struggle of thoughts and perceptions. The familiar smell of cinnamon, sheep, and ale grounded me firmly in my human-ness and chased the cyclops back to the back alleys of our…of my mind.

  Airships circled overhead, their patrols having resumed after Lord Diggerty’s failed attempt to escape.

  As soon as Cavendish and I left the safety of the doorway, a Guardsman moved beside me. “What are your names, and what is your business inside?”

  How would he react if I told him that two people resided in me? And that my business involved stealing something from his master?

  As if he read my mind and wanted to avoid an even more awkward situation, Cavendish quickly answered, “We are honest men on honest business. Do we look like the thief you are trying to catch?” He placed his fists on his hips.

  The Guardsman ignored the gnome as his eyes measured me. “What are you doing here? I’ve never known one of your kind to seek the message preached within these sacred walls. Are you getting yourself some religion?”

  I took a step towards him. He took two steps back as he reached for his gun. I said, “I was curious and wanted to see.” I shrugged, as if the man asked the silliest of questions. “Do you want religion?”

  He let his hand fall to his side, then spit. “Mum used to drag me to service every Sunday morning. She said she saw the bad ideas forming in my head and wanted to purge them.” He wiped his chin on his sleeve. “Never cared to hear what they said. It’s the same message over and over.” He pointed to me. “So are you going straight back to your post? Or straight back to the Gateway?”

  I wanted to say, “I’m going back to my job so I can break into Schaever’s exhibit, steal an object from under his nose, and disrupt his plans for ruling the Empire,” but all that came out was, “I am going to work. The Exposition keeps us all busy.”

  “That’s fine,” he said. “With that Asherton fellow trapped in here, the Duke keeps maximum guards all around. That leaves plenty to do and more than enough opportunity for the lot of you creatures to do the heavy lifting at the Exposition.”

  The man’s condescending attitude deserved a rebuke or, at the very least, a grumble. But I maintained my composure and walked past him. Once in the lane, I paused to look over the area. Schaever had made no attempt to hide the fact that he wanted me and that he believed he had me cornered. Whereas the Duke’s Ball hinted at his enormous wealth, and the play revealed the darkness of his soul, the scene surrounding the Cathedral amounted to an unabashed exhibit of physical strength unlike anything he had heretofore displayed. Four Guardsmen stood at each corner, paired with as many reptilians and one elf. They examined every passerby, myself included, looking for signs of magic. Four airships circled in perfect unison, the hum of their engines sounding like
a swarm of giant bees. The larger dirigible design meant that each carried the maximum number of Guardsmen. Patrols of the mechanical men, marching in perfect uniformity, frightened most of the casual passersby.

  Perhaps I should have taken satisfaction in the fact that Schaever considered me a great enough threat to justify such a show of power. And despite his efforts, I walked free…as a cyclops…which presented uniquely cyclopean problems such as the glass on my helmet stretching the world on the edges and making some people look taller than they truly were. For example, the Guardsmen took on a new form of menacing as they always appeared the slightest bit distorted. Yet my single eye presented the strangest problem. My mind desperately wanted to make it two.

  Movement in the corner of said eye appeared as a shifting shadow. To cover the same area of vision required turning my head more often.

  “You have trouble with perspective only because you allow yourself to have trouble,” Perrin said. “Stop trying to look at the world with two bug eyes.”

  Following Perrin’s suggestion was far easier said than done.

  Besides that issue, large feet and long strides presented their own challenge. Fortunately, the long walk to the Expo afforded a much-needed opportunity to grasp some of the finer details of the new body.

  Another facet of living a cyclops’ life? People staring at and avoiding me altogether. Though cyclopes were not unusual on the lanes of the town, most humans inherently distrusted them due to their intimidating girth. Children, though, made no pretense to hide their curiosity or disgust. Many stopped to point, laugh, cry, or ask why I looked so ugly. Their innocent and ignorant reactions, however, did nothing to take away from the joy of standing in the evening sun. I closed my eye and let the light wash over me.

  “My world is much prettier,” Perrin said. “This world is too dull and cloudy and rainy.” To emphasize his words, he recalled a sunset over Reganas Nine from many years ago. Visible streaks filled the sky above the ancient, white columns of the Elders’ meeting chambers. As the sun lowered, the violet tone of the sky gave way to a blazing red. The color reflected off a pool in the middle of which grew a tree covered in leaves of different colors. As the light hit the leaves, they blazed forth in their myriad display of magnificence.

  A young lad broke the memory as he called out, “See the creations of science! See the wonders of magic come to life! See it at the Exposition in the Marvelous Oddities pavilion.” He waved flyers around and handed them to anyone within reach.

  Granted, the magical realm provided magnificent scenery. How would it compare, though, to the experiences waiting at the Expo?

  “See it now! See it live,” the boy continued as if he wanted to taunt me. “See what you can only imagine.”

  Something tugged at my leg. “Ash,” Cavendish said. “We don’t have time to stand around.”

  I motioned ahead. “Please, show us the way.”

  The gnome peered up with a creased brow. “You mean I should show you the way.”

  I nodded. “Is that not what I said?”

  He shook his head. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Before I answered, he snorted and motioned for me to follow.

  People filled the pubs and taverns to overflowing before going to the Expo. The thought of a drink made me long for a Branagh’s Ale. I missed it so much.

  And no, nothing on Perrin’s world compared.

  “Except a multana,” Perrin said. Thoughts of a hot drink with hints of chocolate and peppermint tickled my tongue. “The only drink worthy of a cyclops.”

  I rolled my eye but declined to disagree since I knew for a fact which drink tasted better.

  “As do I,” Perrin said, then grunted.

  We joined the crowds streaming in the direction of the Expo. We stopped at the next intersection.

  No one moved despite the protests and the threats of various cab drivers.

  Cavendish asked, “What is happening?” He tried to peer between legs and hopped around to no avail.

  Though I towered over most, I could not see exactly what caused the delay.

  “You there!” someone called. “In the back of the line! The cyclops!”

  I looked for one of the creatures.

  Perrin said, “I think he means us.”

  “Over here,” the man said as he stood on top of a cab thirty yards away. He wore a striped vest of gold and red, as well as striped trousers of gold and black. He held a long, black whip in his right hand and a metal cone which he held up to his mouth in his left. “We need your help. You look like an able fellow. Come on, else we’ll all be stuck out here the rest of the evening. And that means we will all miss the fun tonight.” Those closest to him looked around as he continued, “Clear the way. Let him through.”

  The crowd did as asked as I approached the stranger. Cavendish followed.

  The man looked me up and down. “Yes, you’ll do nicely. Follow me.” He led the way through the congested lane, to where two mechanical wagons had crashed. The drivers glared at each other as a Guardsman tried to question them on what had happened.

  My escort motioned them out of the way before he pointed to where the front of one wagon had tried to shove itself halfway through the rear of the other. Water pooled beneath the steam engine of the first one, while boxes had fallen out of the back of the second and finished blocking the lane.

  Both drivers turned to the fellow. They voiced their disagreement with his proposal to move them out of the way. One said, “Touch my vehicle, and I’ll do you to rights.”

  The man motioned to me. “He is going to move your wagons. If you have any issues, I suggest you take it up with him.”

  Both men looked at me. They scowled but said nothing else.

  The fellow seemed pleased. “I always prefer a discussion that leads to a reasonable resolution.” He nodded to me. “If you don’t mind?”

  In similar circumstances, the canon’s voice would have been quick to point out the usefulness of my present form in such a situation. This time, however, Perrin grumbled. “Do I look like I am still a slave?”

  I told him, “We are helping. There is no shame in doing a good deed.”

  The little canon would have been proud.

  I walked to the point where the wagons connected. “Where do you want them?”

  The fellow motioned spectators to the side. “Over here, where the gentlemen can settle their differences without inconveniencing the rest of us.”

  “I’m owed restitution!” the second driver said. “I cannot be expected to pay for the incompetent driving of some mad man.”

  The first driver jumped at the second, but the Guardsman kept them apart. “All right, take it to the side. And be quick about it.”

  I reached for the first wagon.

  “She shot you!” Perrin said.

  Between his surprise and my unusual perspective, I misjudged the distance. My knuckles slammed into the side, making a slight dent in the metal. Pain shot up my arm, and a drop of blood fell from the right-most finger.

  I told the cyclops, “We can discuss Sheela later.”

  He grunted. “You did push her. That was an unenviable position to find yourself in. I don’t understand your choice of ladies, Alexander.”

  “We will discuss the matter later,” I said as I shook my hand out. I reached for the wagon again in a slower, more methodical method.

  Perrin did have the advantage of strength, and while lifting the wagon proved a bit of a strain, it would have been impossible for my usual body. As I pulled the wagon, the other wagon moved, too. Twisted, ragged shards connected them.

  A good tug loosened several pieces of metal. Another quick tug, which resulted in a protest from the wagon’s owner, separated the vehicles. I pulled it to the side before giving it a solid push to send it clear of the roadway.

  Many who watched applauded as I did the same to the second vehicle.

  The fellow who enlisted my help directed efforts to clear the wooden boxes out of the wa
y in spite of the threats of the owner that they needed to remain in place. Three men carried them and stacked them neatly next to the wagon to which they belonged.

  “Thank you,” the fellow said as he held his hand out. “Name’s James Goldbend. Most people call me Goldy.”

  I shook his hand. My own swallowed his. “A…Perrin.”

  “You’re a good man…I mean a good cyclops, Perrin. Appreciate the help.” He motioned to the lane as people and wagons moved again. “The Duke has given us proper incentive to be as quick and as efficient as possible when it concerns deliveries to the Expo. Goldy is not going to lose out on any money that man offers.”

  I almost tipped my imaginary hat and told him how I also appreciated a good reward, but only stood and said, “I am glad to help.”

  Goldy held something up. “Here, why don’t you take this? A complimentary pass for the amusement rides at the Expo. Anything you choose. I’m sure I could even fit you in a gondola on the Ferris wheel.”

  The piece of paper appeared so small against my giant palm. It read, “Goldbend’s Amazing Attractions and Spectacles.” Gold foil lined the edges.

  Goldy walked away. “See you around, Perrin. If you find you need something to do to stay busy, or need an extra shilling or two, look me up. You’ll find me next to the big wheel.”

  I placed the ticket in my trouser pocket, then joined the procession of people and wagons making their way closer to Schaever’s lair of exciting eccentricities. The scene reminded me of the train of wagons and carriages taking guests to the Duke’s Ball. A very different, much more modest, clientele comprised this procession, though.

  Cavendish said, “You are supposed to be on duty soon.” He hurried ahead, and before we reached the main gate, he turned right. “Entrance on the east is for the workers. We are not allowed to use the main one. Causes too many problems when humans see so many of us coming and going.”

  A short line of magical creatures – elves, cyclopes, giants, and lizards – stood before a modest-looking wooden door. I sucked in a quick breath at the sight of orcs. The urge to race forward and grab one by its fleshy neck took hold. They needed their life squeezed out. They—