Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #1: The Brimstone Key (27 page)

“Right now?”

“Do you have something better to do?”

Max looked down at his ring. He was used to transforming it into the gauntlet. It required a little more effort to change it into a book. As he focused, the ring slowly melted away from his finger and pooled into the palm of his hand, quickly building itself up and out until, in a few moments, he was holding an enormous leather-bound book. He quickly spoke the familiar words of opening. The lock sprung back and the pages unfurled.

“All right,” began Obadiah. “The lesson for today is
your empathetic link to the
Codex
. That is, how it can respond to your emotions. You have already sensed it. If I guess correctly, Skyfire works more effectively when you are angry or frightened, correct?”

Max nodded.

“It’s the same way with the
Codex
. Now, I want you to open to a page. Not just any page, though. I want you to open to the page you need right at this moment.”

“I don’t
need
anything.”

“Let the
Codex
make that decision. Just let your feelings guide you, and the page you need will appear.”

Max paused. “Do I close my eyes and meditate or something?”

Obadiah snorted. “This is science, not some hocus-pocus shenanigans.”

Max took in a deep breath and focused on moving the page in front of him. He stared. He glared. He squinted. He even managed to give himself a headache. The book didn’t move.

“You’re thinking, not feeling! Shut your mind off.”

Max focused, trying to feel the page in his mind. He imagined the texture of the paper on his cheek… the smell of the leather… the taste of the ink. Then he tried to imagine
being
the page and falling open. After a few minutes, his mind began to wander, and instead of thinking about his training, all he could think about was being back home, before his parents had divorced, and eating strawberries on the porch with his family. It was one of
his favorite memories. Then his mind drifted again, and he feared he might fall asleep on his feet. He opened his eyes.

“Congratulations!” Harley nudged him.

“What?” Max rubbed his eyes and looked down. The pages had indeed turned, without his even knowing it.

“You’re a quick study,” Obadiah admitted.

Max studied the page. There was a painting of a lush green field of strawberries under a warm sun. He scratched his head, smiled, and looked up at Strange. “Well, I guess I was kind of hungry,” he admitted.

Obadiah shook his head. “Those aren’t ordinary strawberries. They are a species of
fragaria somnus
, otherwise known as Sleeping Berries. The
Codex
is telling you that you are working too hard. You need to get some sleep.”

Max yawned despite himself.

“I think you’ve learned enough for one night. We have three more days before we reach Durban. Let’s try again tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you going to have Max release the berries from the
Codex
?” asked Harley. “They look pretty good.”

Obadiah shook his head. “Unless you want to sleep until next spring, I suggest you try some warm milk instead.”

Max trained with Obadiah the next few mornings and was making good progress. Of course, foisting a basket of Sleeping Berries on a horde of clockworks didn’t sound particularly heroic, but if he trusted the book, Obadiah assured him that things would turn out all right.

There were other times, moments of quiet as they sailed through the clouds, that Max spent alone. He would walk down the observation decks and stare out the windows, deep in thought. At night, his mind would often return to Sprig, and what she must have gone through. He didn’t know what to hope for. Max just knew he wanted
her to be happy. If she ever returned to him, he’d promise to take better care of her.

“What the heck is that?” Harley exclaimed as the
Graf Zeppelin
swung over a city that sprawled like a maze on the surface of the Durban Sea. The bridges and white stone towers made it look like it had been constructed from the bones of a dead giant. Every inch of the island was covered by a road or building. There wasn’t a single natural rock formation, tree, or even a patch of grass.

“Durban is an island entirely manufactured by dwarves,” Strange explained. “With nearly unlimited energy and resources, and a free market economy, there is nothing they can’t build or design. The dwarves ensure Durban’s neutrality. They have never engaged in war, finding it a waste of time and resources. However, they certainly don’t mind benefiting from it by selling weapons of destruction to the highest bidder.”

“I just radioed in,” Monti announced, as he joined them on the observation deck. “We have clearance to land, but we’re supposed to keep our stay short. No more than six hours.”

Logan checked his chronometer. “Should be enough.”

“How is this place still a secret after so many years?” asked Natalia.

Obadiah smiled and motioned toward his pocket, where Saxon’s diary lay. “MERLIN Tech keeps it cloaked under an intricate illusion. It’s backed up with a Class
Nine Mesmero Field, which confuses anyone who gets close. Even if someone stumbled on it by chance, they would never understand what they saw. What’s more, they would quickly forget.”

Max felt a bump. Outside the window, he saw that the
Graf Zeppelin
was being lowered with ropes to the ground, where a team of gnomes hung, swaying like spiders in the wind.

“We have to move quickly,” Logan advised, as he stepped onto the ramp. “In and out. No sightseeing.”

“Hold on!” Monti exclaimed, as he ran down the ramp with a box under his arm. “You’ll want to put these on.” He handed each of the Griffins a pair of goggles. “They’ll supply a live camera feed so I can monitor your progress while you are away.”

Ernie smiled. “Do they work at a hundred miles an hour?”

“Of course,” Monti replied. “I can’t say the same for the jump boots. I don’t recommend activating them at high speed, unless you want to become a permanent part of the ceiling. Anyway, good luck down there.”

“Down
where
?” asked Ernie.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Logan answered. “Shoulder your packs. We’re moving out.”

Obadiah, with map in hand, set off with the Griffins trotting behind him. As Max stepped off the ramp, he felt Logan’s hand on his shoulder.

“This should be routine, Grasshopper. But just in case, stay close.”

Max nodded. The Scotsman was the only continuity in Max’s life since his parents’ divorce, his father’s betrayal, and Iver’s death. If it weren’t for Logan, Max might not even be alive. He smiled up at the Scotsman, who in turn gave him a wink.

“We’ll stick together, mate. You and me.”

The entrance to the Brimstone Facility turned out to be just on the other side of the harbor—or so Obadiah assured them. They were standing on the bottom level of a double-decker stone pier, which ran a good way out toward the breakwater. There were seagulls, waddling pelicans, and barking seals everywhere. Nobody could see the Brimstone Facility, though.

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Ernie asked, as he scanned the waters. “Are we being affected by that Mesmero thing you mentioned?”

“Patience,” reprimanded Obadiah, who was busy counting out his footsteps in synchronization with Lord Saxon’s instructional map. “Ah, I must have missed it before!” Strange exclaimed suddenly. He retraced his steps, turned left, murmured a few strange words, and proceeded to step right off the side of the pier. Max braced for the splash, but Obadiah didn’t fall.

“It’s a bridge—invisible, naturally,” he explained from his ethereal perch. “Please try to keep up. The bridge
will dissipate shortly, so we will have to make this effort count.”

The Griffins rushed onto the invisible platform, eyeing the crashing waves just below their feet as they followed after Obadiah Strange.

“Can’t everyone see us out here?” Natalia asked, glancing over her shoulder at the town behind them.

Obadiah shook his head as he continued on. “We are now part of the illusion.”

A moment later, he came to an abrupt stop, holding up his hand and removing a glove. Obadiah placed his fingers on what Max imagined to be an invisible door. He muttered more unrecognizable words, and the door opened.

Strange stepped through. Max followed.

They were standing in a stone cavern. Two lamps flickered, affording little light. Except for a circular pool in the middle of the floor filled with bright blue water, and an odd-looking brass post with a single ivory button marked
Call,
the room was empty. Obadiah pushed the button and the water bubbled.

“The Bell will arrive in a few minutes,” Obadiah assured everyone. “Lord Saxon designed it himself, and even though this place had been dormant for nearly a hundred years, it should be exactly as he left it.”

“Checking video feed,”
came Monti’s crackling voice out of an earphone attached to Max’s goggles.
“Channel Three. Do you copy, Max?”

Max nodded.

“Thanks.”
He heard Monti laugh.
“But if it gets really dark where you are going, I won’t be able to see you nodding through the camera, so speak up.”

“Sorry,” Max replied. “I copy.”

“Good. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll check the others,”
he said. Then his voice disappeared with a crackling noise.

“So what is the Brimstone Key?” asked Ernie, tightening his helmet in preparation for the descent. “What does it look like?”

“It certainly doesn’t resemble a house key, if that’s what you mean,” Strange replied. “It is cylindrical, about arm’s length, and very heavy. After all, it is made of meteoric iron. Also, it isn’t a single piece, but rather a series of six gears, lined up one beside the other.”

The call button on the brass panel lit up, and with a whirring of invisible gears, a round globe blossomed from the water like a shimmering bubble. The vehicle, known as the Bell, was wrought of iron and polished wood. Through the hatch, Max could see a room of padded walls, a circular divan, and a domed roof.

“Looks like our ride is here,” Logan said, shouldering his well-stocked weapons rucksack.

Soon, the Griffins had taken their seats and were
looking around in expectation. Strange stood in front of a large, round window with his back to the others. Pressing a similar call button near the window, he closed them in with a hiss of steam.

A chime sounded briefly, and the Bell began its clanking descent.

As the water level rose above the viewing window, Max saw that they were in a glass elevator shaft. The water, light blue at first, gradually grew darker. There were colossal shapes just off in the distance.

“Whales!” Natalia exclaimed as one particularly playful cetacean came close to examine the earthly visitors.

Just when the water became the darkest, Max perceived a soft glow below them. As they approached he saw the rising spires of a city of glass.

“What about Von Strife?” asked Max. “Do you think he beat us here?”

“All that matters is the Brimstone Key,” Obadiah replied, as the Bell reached its destination. “But if he
were
here, I think we’d be dead already.”

Logan led them into a cylindrical hallway of glass, framed by thick metal girders and interlocking rings. Its raised floor was plush red carpet, framed on either side by gold. The expeditionary crew stepped out of the elevator and entered the first of many maze-like intersections. Just outside, the sea was dark and menacing.

Obadiah Strange consulted Saxon’s diary closely. The wrong path meant death, and there were lethal self-defense systems built into the Brimstone Facility to ensure that any misstep was definitively punished.

“What sort of defenses does this place have?” Harley asked, wondering what they might come up against.

“Clockworks and other types of security systems,”
Monti replied through the comlink.
“Machines don’t require oxygen, so if there were ever a breach or some kind of malfunction, there would be no risk of suffocation.”

At a nod from Obadiah, Logan led the way forward, a flashlight mounted just beneath the barrel of his MERLIN Tech Pulse Rifle.

“Wow, Saxon was a genius,”
Monti’s voice crackled over the line as he watched their progress through the video feed.
“He built this almost a hundred years ago, and it’s still state-of-the-art today. I wish I could have met the guy.”

“You’d be disappointed,” Obadiah said flatly. “Saxon wasn’t the sociable type and there was only room for one genius in
his
world.”

As the Griffins walked through the passageways, it was hard for them to grasp just how immense the Brimstone Facility was. Inside the glass maze, they could only see the next intersection, but outside the window, they could see the faint shimmering of more structures in the distance.

“There it is,” Obadiah said, pointing out the window to the right. “The Brimstone Chamber.” It was an immense pentagonal structure. Golden light rose like smoke from a ceiling of spider-webbed glass. Only a few more turns and they would be there.