A Riddle in Ruby (15 page)

Choose One (1):

Artificer: I wish to further explore the creation of alloyed engines and artifacts, which are the physical expression of the Tinker's craft.

Dynamist: I wish to further explore the creation of chemystral cells and reservoirs, which are used to power engines and artifacts.

Scrutinist: I wish to further explore the mysteries of chemystral science and extend the boundaries of our understanding of the Tinker's craft.

—Form 1017-B, Declaration of Advanced Study

A
thena Boyle was still sleeping. Or so they said. Cram and Collins had been in and out of the warehouse several times, but Ruby was still trapped in the little pond of purple vapor. The top, perched cheerfully next to her, had begun to wobble slightly, back and forth. She hated waiting. She wanted to do something. She had no idea what to do. Ruby also had no idea how a parcel of smoke and a stupid brass trinket could mask her from Wisdom
Rool, but she'd hop on one foot and sing “God Save the King” if it had a chance of keeping that man away from her.

“What is this place?” Cram was leaning against one of the thick beams, and then he slid down into a heap.

She pushed the broken sign toward him through the sawdust with a stick:
LIAMS BROTHERS, FERRYMEN AND RIVER TRANSPORT
.

“What does it say?” Cram asked.

“You don't have letters?”

“Never saw much use.” He shrugged. “The language of metal is on its way in. I can flash my sums like a Boston banker. My mam used to say—”

“The sign says this is a place where people made boats and sold transport across the Schuylkill River.”

Cram kenned it straightaway. He snorted. “And if some grand master pulls up a big stone wall through your back porch and over your head, it makes it a heavy task to get to the water.”

Ruby nodded. “And most of the water ran out of the river when they drew the Lid out of the ground. You can
walk through it or jump over it in most places.”

The midshipman came in from the other room, rolling down his sleeves, fresh from checking on Athena.

Ruby poked Cram with her stick. “How long have you known?”

“Ow. Easy, Ferret. Not longish. Just after you left the big house. She, well, I still knew him as ‘he,' though truly I might speak of ‘he' as ‘she' now that we be past the point of no return”—he reached for the next thought—“however—”

Collins looked up from his waistcoat buttons. “You did not know she was in disguise?”

“Did you?” Ruby asked.

“Well, no. But I thought that—”

“Just because we are together does not mean we know all there is to know about one another,” she parroted back to him.

“But they came to save you. That is not a trifling thing.”

That hit her, but she forged on. “You saved our lives. Do we know all there is to know about you?”

He scratched his ear. “Most definitely not.”

She turned back to the servant. “How did you find out?”

“I—”

“Why did you not tell me?”

“Let me finish, Ferret.”

She stuck her finger through the plane of smoke and wiggled it. A little hole opened in the current, and the oily vapor flowed back into it. “All right.”

Cram squirmed. “My master. My mistress”—he thought for a moment—“my
employer,
was in a right state after you skarpered out. Bangin' on walls with the hilt of the sword, cursing at me like some ancient sailor, and then sulking in a corner. Stared at a pocket watch for the longest time. Then my . . . employer snaps the ticker closed and strides into the big bedroom at the top of the stairs. Calls me up there, and I am to help . . . this person get into yon flouncy gown, which had been discovered in the wardrobe. There was a pile of buckles and sashes and ties in the most private of places, and in cranking that demon of a dress down, I became once and for all certain
that she is indeed a lady.” He blushed a deep crimson in the half-light.

“So why did you dress up like Madame Froofenhaus and her butler?”

“That Rool fella was searching for a gentleman and his servant—”

Collins broke in. “She was looking at a timepiece, you say? While trying to discover Ruby?”

Cram's eyes narrowed. “Yes, sir.”

“May I see it?”

They narrowed more. “I do not think that be a good idea, sir.”

Collins said, “It could be important.”

“Be that as it are, sir.” Cram held on to his bag like an orphan child with a sweet cake. “Her things are trusted to me, and just because you helped us with that potion, and thank ye for that”—he firmed his backbone—“I do not think I should let ye root around in her frillies like it were a Sunday market day.”

The top wobbled.

“You are loyal. That is to be commended. However,
your loyalty may be clouding your judgment,” Collins said.

Cram bridled. “And what do you know about loyalty, ya great beanpole? These are her things, not yourn. I ain't going to say it again.”

“I think you should reconsider.” Collins stood up. All the way up. “I must see that watch.”

Cram fingered his butter churn, and the rat turned into a wolf. “You come and take it.”

Ruby stood on the table, ready to jump in between them, pool of smoke be damned.

“Why do you want to see my watch?” The voice came from the doorway into the workshop. It was Athena Boyle, pale and leaning against the doorframe, with dueling sword drawn.

Collins blanched. “Lady, is it wise for you to be standing?”

She smiled. “Sir, I think it is far past time, from the look of things. Besides, I promised Ruby that we would be off.” She levered herself from leaning to standing. She still looked very weak. “Now. My savior, Midshipman
Collins, is it?” He nodded. “Midshipman Collins, why is my charge surrounded by a highly sophisticated chemystral ward?”

Ruby bristled. “Hang on. When did I become ‘your charge'?”

“It is my task to protect you, Ruby, and to guide you to safety.”

“Is it also your task to acquire more holes than a ruined fishnet and bleed out at the drop of a hat?”

“That has been an unexpected part of the assignment, I must admit. People seem to acquire a great many holes when they spend time with you.”

Cram chimed in. “Truer words, Ferret. Barked my shins more in the past week with you than ever I have till now.”

“You would not be saying that, neither of you, if I could come out of this smoke.”

The servant nodded. “Most like that's true.”

“Please. You are distracting me from my inquiry. Mister Collins?”

He pulled on his ear. “Yes, Lady Boyle?”

“Lord Athen.”

“As you wish.”

“Why do you want to see my watch?”

Henry Collins said, “Thought, grant us grace.”

Athena made a face, as if she had just swallowed something bitter. She responded, “Grace, protect us all.”

Just then the top fell over, and the smoke around Ruby vanished like mist at midday.

All was motion. Collins hurried over to the boarded-up window and eased a board open so that he could see out into the street. “Pack your things if you please. We need to remove all hints of our presence from this room.” He turned to Athena. “Have you any blue vitriol in that bag of yours?”

She snorted. “Do you mistake me for the queen of Sheba, sir?”

He ignored the question. “We have to go. Now. Can you walk?”

“If need be,” she said. Her words were jaunty, but Ruby could see that she was struggling.

Collins tucked the top into his leather satchel. “With
the passing of the ward, Miss Teach will be visible again, and they will begin closing the net.”

“Cram, hurry and gather the remains of the dress from the workroom. We can leave no trace for their trackers.” Cram held the bag close to his chest, eyeing Collins on his way out.

Athena Boyle smiled out of the side of her mouth. “The midshipman is correct. Time to fly.”

—Marion Coatesworth-Hay,
The Tinker's Dram,
Act III, sc. iv

H
eroes rarely thought about baggage. Cram was discovering that to be a universal truth. Another universal truth: Lace was heavy as cornmeal when there was enough of it.

The gearbeasts had picked up their scent, and he was falling behind. The professor, the ferret, and his lady were carrying exactly nothing among them, while he was toting Lady Athena's Bag of Wonder, the Dress of Doom,
his Churn of Smiting, and his own cumbersome kit. He wasn't a complainer. He could hear Mam in his head: “Moaners never get the pie, boy, and more, they always end up scrubbing the pan
.
” But there were these steps, see. Four hundred and fifty-two so far. They were cut into what Ferret called the Lid, but it was more a wall here. The Lid stretched above them somewhere in the gloom, too far away to think on.

Leg, leg, leg.
Keep moving the legs.
Leg, leg,
and he could have kissed the stair maker. The next step was a wide landing.

“Wait,” Lady Athena gasped. The professor was breathing heavy as well.

“We cannot keep up the stairs. If they catch us, we are all done. The gearbeasts will not tire, and we are in no shape for a fight.”

The professor gasped. “I can get us to safety.”

“As can I.” She was looking at her watch again. It was gold and well worn. She was holding it out in front of her now, arm pointing at a weathered metal door set into the stone wall. The lever was secured with a solid-looking
padlock. “Ruby, can you open this?”

The girl stared back down the stairway.

“Ruby?” Athena repeated, louder and more urgent.

Ferret snorted. “Can you flounce about in a party dress? Out of my way.” She pulled a ring of picks out of her coat and made for the door.

“Wait.” The professor was two steps up. “Where are you going? You need to come with me. That leads outside the city.”

Athena clapped the watch closed and waved it at him. “That is fortunate because we need to go outside the city.”

“No! There is nothing but wilderness out there. We need a trusted refuge,” Collins said.

Below them in the dark, like faraway beetles, the faint clack of metal claws sounded on stone.

Cram got up on one knee. “Hear that?”

Collins nodded. “They are coming for us now. We must keep moving.”

“We are moving.” Athena peered down the steps, unsheathing her sword. “You or I can secure the door
from the other side. They will not be able to follow us.”

“And then we will be farther away from help and near to the wilds, unable to return to the city.” He stepped down onto the landing. “Miss Teach! I can take you to friends that can protect you and keep you safe. We can help you find your father.”

In the half-light Ferret looked young, and scared. She fiddled with the picks. “I thought you were together, with your secret phrases.”

Athena shrugged. “I thought so, too. Mayhap we were wrong. I am taking you to my people, Ruby, and they are somewhere through that door.”

“And mine are up the stairs,” Collins insisted.

“And there be shadows coming up them stairs fast,” Cram said from his perch on the edge of the landing. He could see them now, shapes holding on to the leashes. Then the barking sounded, like a hound's but tinged with iron.

“Ruby!” Athena's voice cut through the half-light. “You must choose.”

“Agreed,” Collins said. “I will follow you wherever.”

She looked between them for a moment. Collins's face was stern. Athena Boyle smiled.

Cram thought he could smell something burning, like a kettle that was too hot.

“The door,” Ruby said, and the heavy lock was open in a flash.

Athena ripped it open. Light shone through and blinded Cram. He hadn't seen sunlight for days. There was an old stone landing beyond with trees far below. “Go! Go!” Athena cried. “Keep running, we'll catch up!”

Ruby ran through and down the stairs, Cram fast on her heels. His legs were like water, though, and he tripped on the raised metal lip of the door. He turned as he fell to the other side so he landed on his back, protecting Athena's bag.

That was how he saw his mistress tear through next and then, whirling, kick Henry Collins hard in the chest.

The kick knocked him back through the doorway and onto the landing inside.

Athena yelled, as if he were slow behind, “Collins, come on!”

The professor was quick and got back onto his feet, but he was not quick enough. As he was lunging forward, he caught Cram's eye, wrenched a brass key out of his pocket, put it to his lips, and whispered something.

“The Friendly Dollop spice shop. Tell her.” Cram heard it clear as day, as if the bloke were standing next to him.

Athena slammed the heavy metal door closed and threw the lever.

She turned, eyes wide, face flushed. “My bag, Cram. Quickly!” The order startled him, and he passed her the bag. She pulled out a ceramic flask and slammed it on the lever. The metal melted and fused in seconds.

Without a word, Athena Boyle handed Cram the bag and followed Ruby down the stairs.

What had he just seen?

A glimpse into the affairs of his betters.

He put it out of his mind. He tried not to think about what might be happening on the other side of the door.

“Cram!” Ferret was calling to him from the bottom of the stairs, half eaten up by tall grass. Beyond her were
a little stream and, by Science, the sky. Halfway down the stone steps, Lady Athena had turned back to look up at him, waiting. She had not sheathed her sword. For better or worse, he had made his choice. The heroes still needed their things. Cram shouldered the bag, adjusted the dress on one shoulder, tucked his churn under his other arm, and followed.