This Deadly Engine Read online

  Chapter 8

  Perrin said, “That is her? The woman who tried to kill you? She is such an ugly, horrendous creature. Why did you marry her?”

  Despite the cyclops’ assessment, she appeared as beautiful as ever, at least on the outside. Within, though, beat a heart as black as Schaever’s.

  “And Frengarn’s.”

  A train clacked as it approached. A couple riding in a car giggled like they were in love. Aimee and I once made the same sound in our early, happy days together.

  I will not go there. I will not waste another thought on her.

  Yet there she was – back from the dead, back from…

  Was she an automaton? Or did I look upon the real Aimee? What would she do when she saw me?

  Yet I was not me…

  The train appeared, but I did not bother to examine the passengers. I only saw her. Now that I knew the secrets of her origin – of her human mum and elf father – I recognized the subtle hints. Her ears had the slightest tip on their ends, and they had an unusual curve along the back.

  If only her personality favored her mum’s instead of her father’s. If only her grandfather had worried more about his family and less about appearances. If only I had never seen her at the Bank of Campden that day.

  I expected the canon to make a wise observation about consequences and my place in the world, but instead heard Perrin say, “I still believe she is ugly. All bones and skin. And she has one little eye on each side. An unnatural appearance. Pretty for a human, but that is like saying a Mandrigan Snail is pretty because it has a pink shell.” An image flashed in my mind of a lump of slimey flesh with a shiny pink shell on top. Four tentacles stood straight out from the front, parallel to the ground, and each with an eye at the end.

  “That’s disgusting,” I said.

  “Would you like to see creatures even worse?”

  Before he recalled the Tentacled Paradorn or the Seven-eyed Sailenwhal, I thought of Rebecca. The night of the play at Chen’s Theatre, when she watched the translucent dragons flying around and marveled at the waters dancing between fountains, she appeared happy and excited. I wanted her to feel that way again.

  And her question echoed again… “Can you love me, Alexander Asherton?”

  Perrin laughed at the question, breaking me from the trance and drawing me back to the reality of the lady before us.

  So did I see Aimee at the lawyer’s office just before the explosion? Did automaton doppelgangers possess the same powers as their human counterparts? Was the link between the real and the machine so strong?

  More questions without answers. More trouble without satisfaction. For at least the hundredth time, I had to wonder what it took to leave Campden. Why could I not let the entire town rot in its deceptive charms? It pulled me deeper into its quagmire of darkness each day, revealing more of its secrets.

  Had I already passed the point of being able to leave?

  Perhaps. Yet the Donnavans deserved the opportunity to flee, especially Rebecca. I would fulfill the promise I made to her father – to see her safely out of Schaever’s reach

  And the key to keeping it started with the locket on Aimee’s bosom.

  “You could kill her,” Perrin said. “She is as bad as an orc. From your memories I can see that she deserves an ending.”

  “Then you also know I will not kill.” I looked away from my former wife. “I want as little to do with her as possible.”

  Aimee represented everything rotten about the town. She embodied the greed, envy, power, determination, and ambition that drove those seeking control.

  Another train moved by, and a small girl laughed as she pointed. Her happiness and delight seemed so foreign given the true nature of the figure that brought about such emotion.

  After the train disappeared around the bend, I took a deep breath.

  You can do this, Ash.

  I gained nothing by waiting on Cavendish’s diversion. No one mentioned the fact that a madwoman with the ability to blow everything away guarded the prize. If their insider was not aware of that significant fact, what else did he not know? Would such a lack of information see me killed?

  Or did the Treyo Duthku deliberately keep this from me before I left Saint James’? She seemed to withhold something…and surely she understood I would refuse to cooperate if I knew of Aimee’s involvement.

  More questions. And in the end, the answers mattered little. I had agreed. I would not turn back.

  “Not that I would let you,” Perrin said.

  Sometimes the best plan was the simplest. I had stolen enough items in recent years to recognize when to take the direct approach, especially when the stakes increased, and the original plan turned to chronic rot. The Treyo Duthku had been correct in saying that I knew when to adapt to the situation.

  I stepped out from the corner. In the distance, another train clacked along the track.

  Now or never.

  When I tried to step again, my leg refused. Perrin said, “Follow the plan. Save my world.”

  “The plan is no good.” Forcing the leg to move felt like stepping through the muddy bottoms around the docks in my younger years. “There is more to the trap than we thought. You know that as well as I.”

  “Stay with the plan,” he said again, though louder. “Too much is at stake.”

  My foot stopped. In fact, my entire body froze.

  “Trust me,” I said as sweat broke out beneath the front of the helmet. “This is the best way.”

  Perrin’s voice roared. “No! You are a thief and a liar. You will stay with the plan, or I will make you regret your decision.”

  The sound of the next train grew louder.

  I stepped back to the corner without Perrin’s interference. Sweat dripped down my forehead and ran into the corner of my eye. I wiped it out at the moment that the train appeared.

  “Remain still,” Perrin said.

  My body responded. It felt as if I pushed against a stone wall when I tried to move.

  Why is this happening? Why am I losing control?

  The cyclops answered, “Because we are doing this together.”

  “Of course we are, but we are in far more danger than we thought. Look at me. See what Aimee can do. Trust me. Stop fighting and let me put my skills to use.”

  Curse Pienne and his elixirs. Curse the Elders for subjecting me to this.

  The cyclops said nothing. I thought I heard him arguing with himself as to whether he should listen. Finally he asked, “What assurances do I have that I should trust you?”

  “Enough.” I stepped out from the corner, which felt like breaking through the brick wall. I had argued enough. I had defended myself enough. No more would I do so, especially to myself!

  Aimee slept, oblivious of the coming trouble. A lifetime ago I would have gazed upon her with love and adoration. In those days, life had been exciting and joyous. Now, the danger had increased even if the excitement had not. As for my feelings towards her? Only loathing and disgust remained.

  Unlike those innocent days of our courtship and marriage, I knew the broken creature before me in ways she never would have imagined. I understood her heart.

  And I would take the one she wore, which was far more precious than the one she once pledged to me.

  When I reached out, Perrin said, “Let me.”

  I paused. “Why?”

  He grunted. “You are clumsy with my body. If I trust you, then you should trust me.”

  He made a good point, so I let him move our hand. Large fingers deftly lifted the locket from its place. They moved it up and away.

  Our other hand broke the chain with a snap.

  As we lifted the locket free, exhilaration filled Perrin. The best way to describe the emotion was to say that I felt as if I held Excalibur. Or the Holy Grail. Or Arondight. The cold of the locket’s metal pressed into my palm when I squeezed it in triumph. The Gray Heart could free the Donnavans. It could restore Cavendish to his family. It could—
r />   An explosion knocked me onto the tracks. Streaks of red and yellow filled my vision, and what sounded like the bells of Saint James’ ringing filled my ears – all too familiar sensations. I had hoped to never experience them again. If not for the helmet, which had been knocked askew, she would have blinded me.

  Aimee rose from the bed. Her dress flowed about her arms and legs such that she appeared as an avenging angel of death. I expected her to snarl and comment on how much she looked forward to killing me. Instead, she cupped her hands together and prepared another bomb.

  Though my body ached, it appeared unscathed save for the slight burn along my left forearm and a likely bruise on my back. How tough was the cyclops skin?

  “Plenty tough,” Perrin said. “But not indestructible. Avoid another direct strike.”

  I heeded the creature’s words and rolled off the tracks as Aimee unleashed another magical concoction. It missed but managed to rip the tracks apart. She launched a volley of smaller bombs as I grabbed a handful of coins. They would not harm her, but they provided a needed distraction while I planned a way to escape.

  She paused to shield herself with her arms when I unleashed my barrage of spinning gold discs. Experience had taught me her methods well enough. She would try to pound me into oblivion and keep me too busy to go on the offensive. Her relentlessness would more than compensate for her size. If I reached her, though, I would have the advantage.

  Aimee continued to shield her face with one arm but threw small bombs with her free hand. She appeared more interested in the number of bombs than with her aim. Coins exploded in sparkles of gold, holes opened in the walls, and a constant popping filled the air. Her wild throws kept the Guardsmen from advancing for fear of being struck.

  “Where is the gas that is supposed to be released?” Perrin asked.

  I had no time to wonder as to why that particular trap had failed to work.

  The concern and subsequent hesitation of the Guardsmen allowed me to continue my own barrage of coins and flowers and anything else my large hands grabbed. I circled the bed, moving closer.

  She believed I was a dumb creature and would underestimate me. Then again, she underestimated everyone. It was one of her greatest flaws.

  Perrin said, “I am not dumb.”

  “No, you are not. Yet in Aimee’s eyes you are different.” When the cyclops growled, I continued, “Remain calm. This is not the time to let anger take over. That is what she wants. She orchestrates and manipulates while all those around her lose any semblance of control. The longer we keep her from achieving any perceived advantage, the more she will grow flustered. The more flustered she becomes, the more likely she will make a mistake.”

  “Enough!” she yelled as a larger bomb exploded in front of me.

  The force toppled me back and into a Guardsman. Before he recovered from his surprise, I landed a blow hard enough to knock him out.

  Aimee pointed to me. “Give me the locket.” She had transformed from the beauty who had slept so peacefully into a thin and angular creature of loathing. Rage made her face sharper, eyes darker. Disheveled blonde hair covered her face. Her dress glistened from hundreds of gold slivers from the shredded coins.

  She had no idea who faced her. The temptation to tell her, simply to see the expression of shock and dismay, almost got the best of me. I wanted her to know who brought about her failure to protect the Heart.

  “Don’t,” Perrin said.

  Simply because I wanted to did not mean I would…

  Aimee held out her hand. “Give it to me.”

  I held the locket up. “Do you mean this little thing? What is it to you?”

  She glared. “It does not belong to you. Give it to me.” She motioned for the Guardsmen to move closer.

  “And if I do?” I threatened to throw the locket, which made the Guardsmen pause. “Will you kill me faster?”

  Her silence confirmed the answer…she intended to kill me no matter what. As I filled both hands with coins I said, “No.”

  Her lips tightened. “I will not warn you again. Give me the locket or else.”

  Again I said that which had proven so troublesome to say to her when we courted and during our marriage. “No.” The word delighted me so I said it again. “No, no, and no.” Before she released another bomb, I threw my coins and lunged for the base of the bed.

  The air exploded in a shower of gold sparkles that resembled Schaever’s fireworks.

  The sound of the approaching train made me catch my breath. With the track destroyed…

  Visions of the engine crashing and the cars toppling on top of little children encouraged me to move.

  I pushed my hands into the treasure pile, searching for the edge of the dais on which the bed rested. Aimee stood above, pounding my back with bomb after bomb. They grew bigger and more painful with each strike.

  The train moved closer, along with the sound of several children giggling in delight.

  Aimee’s next bomb struck the back of my head, pushing me against the dais. If not for the glass shield, it would have broken my nose. Or worse, I would have poked my eye. I could not take another blow.

  The sound of the train grew louder.

  The bottom had to be there…somewhere… I pushed my hands deeper, putting all of Perrin’s considerable strength into the effort.

  My fingers touched the edge. I slipped them under.

  The smoke from Aimee’s next bomb dripped on my helmet and fell over the sides. The passengers on the train screamed when they saw what had to look like an evil faery come to life.

  With a proper cyclopean growl, I lifted the dais and flipped it over.

  Aimee yelled as she toppled, arms flailing. Her bomb flew high and exploded on the ceiling.

  Wood and plaster showered down. I barreled into a Guardsman and knocked him to the side to reach the train. The engine struck the twisted track and rose into the air. The cars followed its lead.

  Passengers yelled as fathers and mums tried to grab hold of their children.

  I ran for the first car. The engine toppled to the side and tried to pull the car with it. Though it protested the change in direction, Perrin’s mighty strength kept it upright.

  The engine hissed as water ran from its boiler. Smoke poured from its stack, but the wheels slowed until they no longer moved.

  The passengers yelled and cried even though I had saved them.

  When I looked around, I saw why – the exhibit had come to life like never before.

  Aimee stood on the toppled dais and pointed to me. “Kill him.”

  An army out of either a child’s imagination or a mad man’s delusion answered her command. King Arthur in his royal blue tabard and silver helm led the charge. He brandished Excalibur…well, a realistic-looking interpretation of what it could have been that was no less deadly. Behind him followed a half-dozen knights – Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad, Percival, Tristan, and Bedivere. Not to be outdone by the Round Table representatives, Snow White, Rose Red, Hansel, Gretel, Rapunzel, Tom Thumb, Dante, and Virgil joined the fray.

  Rather than try to take on an automaton army alone, I turned to flee. Unfortunately, a dozen orcs and three lizards blocked the escape. Their sight sent a surge of anger through Perrin. Before I knew what happened, I charged into the creatures. The different depth perception caused me to slam two of the creatures, knocking them to the floor. The others jumped on me.

  Perrin said, “Let me do this.” And with that, he took charge. He actually hummed a song – The Ballad of Stefao Golb, about a cyclops who hunted the orcs who killed his lady – as we grabbed an orc in each hand and lifted them high.

  A vision flashed in front of my eye – I marched in a line, chained to other cyclopes. Three orcs taunted us for any perceived wrong – stumbling, moaning, walking too fast, looking anywhere other than straight ahead. Their laughter mocked.

  It still echoed in my mind after all the years.

  In the present, I squeezed the neck of the orc in each h
and. They deserved to have their necks broken, to—

  “No killing!” I said.

  Perrin stopped humming to say, “The only good orc is a dead orc.”

  “No killing,” I repeated as I tried to retake control of our hands. Failing to stop the cyclops would unleash a blood bath that would be on my hands as much on his.

  The orcs choked as my fingers dug deeper. Only the bomb that landed in the midst of the melee stopped me. It knocked me down as the orcs flew in all directions. I released the two in order to regain my feet.

  Aimee approached with the legendary automatons beside her. Red glowed in King Arthur’s eye slits, as well as Galahad’s. Lancelot’s long hair had a natural flow despite the unnatural glint of his eyes.

  I grabbed a stunned orc and tossed him into the approaching line.

  Prince Charming caught the creature and carefully placed it on its feet.

  I took one of the orc blades, which felt more like a knife in my large hands. It would be useless in challenging a knight, but it might disable the monsters. Unless Duke Schaever made a change to the design, I only needed to cut the tubes in the back of their necks.

  Aimee threw a series of bombs at my feet, forcing me back. When I pressed against the wall, she said, “Take him now.”

  The army raced forward. I braced for the impact and prepared to dodge the sweeping blades. I would disable as many as possible before they defeated me.

  Yells arose from behind the approaching army, which stopped and turned to face a new threat.

  Cavendish appeared at the head of a gnome army. He wore his battle armor and wielded his small, jagged blade. He charged around the feet of the automatons. He sliced through the long dress of Snow White as he darted between her legs. When she tried to grab him, he ran his blade across her hand. The sound of metal scraping against metal made my ears ache all the more.

  Aimee said, “Do not worry with the gnomes. Take the cyclops. Kill him.” She threw small bombs to disrupt the gnomes’ advance.

  The automatons continued attacking them, ignoring Aimee’s orders.

  Cavendish reached me and said, “You didn’t follow the plan. Now, every Guardsman in Campden is descending on this place.”