Steamborn (19 page)

Jacob had seen Red Deaths in his classroom before, but they were small and dead and no larger than your average Pill-Bug. Alice’s family had raised some giant Pill-Bugs, sure, but most domestic Pills never got too large to carry around. Miss Penny had kept some of those hatchling Red Deaths in large jars, preserved in some kind of stinky fluid.

Jacob reached out and touched the shell that hid the wings of the dead beetle. One wing was missing, so only half of the creature’s trademark red skull stared back at him. The shell felt slick and surprisingly thin, with a few ridges and bumps. He pushed on it, and something cracked beneath it.

“Let’s get this over with.” Charles peeled back small segments of a Widow Maker’s broken legs and tossed them into the street. Pieces of a Walker went next, and Charles grunted when he tried to roll a segment of a Walker out of the pile. It was at least four feet high.

Jacob and Samuel stared at him for a moment. Then Samuel stepped up to help pry the pieces loose.

“Keep an eye out, yeah?” Samuel said to the other knights. “And watch for fangs! We don’t need anyone dying.”

Only a few called back, but Jacob figured the rest were helping keep watch too.

The chitin and bodies were all dry on the outside of the mountain, but as they dug deeper, things grew moist, and the stench grew ever more foul.

Jacob gagged when a piece of a wing dragged some slimy bits of blue goo out of the pile with it. He let go of the wing, but the blood and innards kept it stuck to his hand. “Gah, this is so gross.”

Charles leaned over and looked at the mess stuck to Jacob’s hands. “Ah, you have part of a silk sac.” The old man bent down and picked up a broken bit of a Walker’s leg. He scraped it along the palm of Jacob’s glove until the wing and the ball of silk beneath it stuck to the leg instead of Jacob. Charles flipped the entire mess farther into the street and went back to work.

Jacob opened and closed his hands a few times. It was a little sticky, but not as bad as he’d thought it would be. The scene repeated itself a dozen times, knights cursing as they got stuck in Widow Maker silk and blood and gunk.

“I always did want to be a knight for the glory,” Samuel shouted from a little higher up the mountain of dead bugs.

The other knights around them laughed. Jacob smiled and glanced at Charles. Charles didn’t laugh. He stared at something.

“What is it?” Jacob asked.

“Your spear,” Charles said quietly. He eased the air cannon off his back. “Now.”

Jacob’s motions were not so slow. His arm whipped up, pulled the spear off his back, and slid the trigger forward in one quick, smooth motion. A three-bladed head snapped out the front of the rod, propped up on reinforced fingers of steel, while the butt of the spear lengthened.

Jacob didn’t have time to think as the mountain of dead things began to shift. A great maw appeared in the hole Charles had been working at. Rows of teeth, each the length of Jacob’s finger, filled the cavern of the worm’s white, maggot-fleshed mouth.

All he heard were screams.

“Carrion!” one of the knights screamed as a sea of the flesh eaters shot forward from the crevices of dead bugs, each as long as a man was tall and thick as a small Pill-Bug.

Instinct was all that drove Jacob’s thrust. Somewhere his brain had registered that Charles only pumped the cannon twice, that if he didn’t move, they were both going to die.

So he moved.

He leaned forward and jammed the triple-bladed spear up through the bottom of the Carrion’s pale mouth. He felt the spear clank and bend when it hit row after row of the beast’s teeth, finally exiting the top of its head in a burst of grayish black slime.

Jacob jerked the spear back out of the Carrion Worm. It slid easily through the gleaming flesh, coming free before the bulbous body tumbled the short way to the ground, cracking the brittle legs and shells beneath it.

The Spider Knights were fast, so very fast. Bessie leapt backwards when the worms attacked, giving Samuel time to free his halberd. The weapon made quick work of the Carrion, but not all the knights on foot had been so lucky.

Charles swung the air cannon around and focused on one of the knights, who was on his back, his sword laid across the maw of one of the great worms. That sword was the only thing keeping him alive, and the knight was losing the battle. Charles adjusted his aim, and the air cannon thundered when he pulled the trigger.

The worm was relentless. Even with a quarter of its body missing, it pushed down on the knight.

Charles pumped the air cannon again and stepped closer as the knight screamed. He raised the gun to his shoulder, and half the worm’s head vanished in the boom that followed.

The knight rolled to the side, coated in grayish black gore. He took three steps up the mountain of death and lunged. His sword cut through the head of another worm, and the creature died instantly.

Movement all around them stopped. The spiders were restless after the battle, pacing from side to side while their knights tried to calm them.

“It looks like everyone’s okay,” Jacob said.

Charles glanced down at the boy and shook his head. “No, son. No, they’re not. I never should have brought you out here.” He raised his eyes to the hill of carcasses.

Samuel stood there, looking down at the shiny armor beneath the bulk of a Carrion Worm. Blood—red, human blood—stained the worm and the body beneath it. Samuel shook his head. “Jones is gone.”

“Jones,” the knights around them echoed. It was only that one word. There would be time for mourning later, but on the battlefield it was only ever that one word. Jacob heard stories that knights would use the names of their fallen comrades as a battle cry. He never imagined it could be such a terrible sound. This was not the glorious scream of an army bent on revenge. It was only sadness for the loss of their friend.

Samuel reached down and pulled something out of Jones’s hand. The Spider Knight half slid, half walked down to Charles and Jacob. Bessie circled the dead bugs, coming to stand beside her knight.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” Samuel asked. He held a small metal box out to Charles.

Charles took it, held it in his hand, and frowned. He turned the rectangular box over and over. Jacob could see dents and scratches and what looked like marks from fangs and mandibles.

Samuel turned to the worm Jacob had killed, and looked as though he meant to kill it again. “Carrion.” He toed a stray chunk of the worm. “That means …”

“Plague Bugs,” Charles said. “I’ve only ever seen so many Carrion Worms when there were Plague Bugs.

Charles pried the back of the box open and pulled out a few wires. “Damnit, it’s a transmitter.” He held up a short, fat glass tube. Two metal bars and a copper wire coiled inside of it. Every few seconds, a burst of dim blue light flashed in the tiny gap between the metal. Charles ripped it out of the transmitter and stared at it. The flash died, separated from whatever had been giving it power.

“We need to find the other half. It’s going to be embedded in the bugs.”

“Charles!” someone shouted from across the Square, closer to the wall repairmen. It was Captain Lewis, and he was heading toward them.

“Captain?” Charles asked.

The captain didn’t say anything else until he got closer. His steel boots clanged against the cobblestones as he came to a halt. “I think we found it.”

It was a small thing, with a bit of gore splashed across it. Square, not much different in appearance than the transmitter.

Charles cursed and took the device out of the captain’s hand. “The transmitters inside the walls drew them close.” He squeezed a tab on one end of the gray box and popped the rear panel off. “Once they were close enough, a signal went out to the head units. It sends the bugs into a mating frenzy.”

“That would make them more aggressive,” Samuel said.

“That’s an understatement.” Charles poked through the innards of the receiver with his index finger. “It makes them unbiased killers. Winner gets a mate, everything else dies. Except there’s no mate to win, so they just kill everything.”

“How do you know that?” Jacob asked.

Charles froze and stared into the receiver. He cursed so long and so hard, even Samuel took a step back before the old man smashed the receiver on the ground. “It’s my own design.”

Jacob recoiled at the words.
“What?”

Charles sighed. “We used them in the Deadlands War. Set up ambushes for supply lines. There was a general who thought we could do more with the transmitters. Mount them on cities and let the bugs tear our enemies to pieces. I never let them do it.”

Samuel crossed his arms and barely suppressed a shiver. “I can see why.”

“You can’t control the bugs,” Charles said. He curled his hands into fists. “You can lead them to a transmitter, but you can’t stop them. They’ll kill everything and everyone. Combatants, civilians, children. I never gave them my designs for fear of something like this.”

Samuel picked up the crushed metal housing. Some wires and a magnet hung out of the side. “Someone figured it out.”

“That they did, boy. That they did.”

“It was probably done in the lead time before Festival,” Samuel said. “No one would have looked twice at a stranger.”

Charles looked up at the captain. “You need to find the rest of the transmitters. As long as their power supply lasts, they could outfit more bugs with receivers.” He wiped his hand off on a scrap of relatively clean cloth. “The receivers are dangerous too, but less so than the transmitters.”

“They’ll be in the piles of dead bugs?” the captain asked.

Charles nodded.

“Well, we need to clear the Carrion Worms out as it is, so we’ll keep watch for the transmitters.” He turned and started to walk away.

“Captain Lewis.”

The captain turned back to Charles.

“Are you aware of any rumors to send the Lowlanders back into this mess? So they can work the mines?”

The captain grimaced and looked at the tower of dead bugs before returning his gaze to Charles. His voice was barely above a whisper. “You know I can’t speak of Parliament’s secrets, so tell no one what I say here.” The captain paused and added, “Swear it as a man of honor.”

“I will not speak of it, or of the source. This I swear, by sword and blood.”

The captain nodded. “Good enough.” He crossed his arms and bit his lip. “Charles, you seem a good man, and Samuel speaks highly of you and Jacob. I can never repay you for what you’ve done for my son, but this puts my family at risk …” He trailed off and narrowed his eyes before taking a deep breath. “Perhaps I heard a rumor.”

“What rumor?”

“There’s a man I know,” the captain said. “I won’t say who, for I swore an oath of my own, but let us say he is powerful. I’ve heard tales he’s colluded with Dauschen. His supporters will tell you he’s merely trying to forge an alliance, but there are whispers of darker things. A man—a man who died mere days after telling me—said our unnamed politician was set upon destroying the Lowlands.”

“I know the politicians aren’t fond of us in the Lowlands,” Charles said, “but that seems rather extreme.”

“Destroy the Lowlands and set up a trade hub,” the captain said. “They’d make more in taxes in a month of trading with Dauschen than they do in a year from the Lowlands. If the Lowlands are cleared, all they need to do is bring the train back into service.”

Charles cursed.

“What?” Samuel said. “That’s insane. You can’t just wipe out a whole city.”

The captain lowered his head. “I thought so too, Samuel. I thought my informant was mad, but look at the evidence. The first part of the plan was to unleash plague bugs in the Lowlands.”

“War-mongering fools,” Charles said as he cracked his knuckles. “All they do is send our children to their deaths. For what? For gold? Are those the men you want to serve, Captain? Men who will send your son to his death to line their pockets?”

The captain visibly stiffened, but he didn’t meet Charles’s eyes. “They offer protection here, Charles. Protection for our families. What choice do we have?”

“Hard choices. The easy choice is rarely the right one.”

The captain stared at Charles for a moment, and then nodded. He took his leave without another word, walking toward the group of wall repairmen.

“If they intend to run us out of town,” Charles said, turning back to Jacob and Samuel, “I plan to make as many arms and legs as possible before they do it. Give these people hope, and give them something to fight with.”

Jacob saw the captain glance back at Charles’s words, and the captain’s shoulders seemed to hunch forward ever so slightly.

“They won’t run you out, old man,” Samuel said. “They’re just going to run out everyone like Jacob and his family.”

“Run them out?” Charles said before he spat on the ground. “Feed them to the Carrion Worms, more like. Jacob, saddle up and get ready to go. We’re heading to the observatory.”

“You can’t still be serious about that,” Samuel said. “We’ve seen Widow Makers and Carrion Worms! We have no idea what’s between here and there.”

“Oh, I think we have some idea,” Charles snapped. “Are you coming?” He hoisted the leather backpack onto his shoulders.

“Dammit, old man,” Samuel said. His eyes trailed from Charles to Jacob. “You’re seriously taking the kid?”

“The
kid
knows my lab as well as I do. Maybe better. I’m definitely taking the kid.”

“It’s not worth it,” Samuel said.

“Worth it?” Charles asked. “Those of us from the Lowlands are running out of money fast. It’s been kind of the vendors inside the city walls to lower their prices, but once demand outstrips supply … I’ve seen what hungry men can do.”

“Can’t you just buy the parts off the city smith? See if he’ll loan them to you?”

“No,” Charles said. “I can’t. We have history, and you know damn well he’s a cheap bastard.” Charles waved his hand, dismissing Samuel’s words. “Now you sound like Bat, always banking on a generosity that could fail you at any moment.”

“Come with us,” Jacob said, looking up at Samuel. “Charles can cut you in on any sales to the Highlanders.”