Steamscape (21 page)

She turned her gaze back to the town and bit her lower lip. Of course, her father, Drina and Jing had played these games with her as a child all the time. Now she was playing them with other children. But as her attention swept over the town, she realized what it was to an adult’s eye.

Ronna looked complete, not burned out like Consequences. The steam and smoke from a train rose over the town, followed by its whistle several moments later. One boiler tower dominated the center of the town, with pipes leading out of it at almost every direction and height. Billows of smoke were already cranking out of the two factories.

“You kids lived here?” Solindra asked.

Teddy nodded. “Or on some of the farms. Most of us worked in the factories or the farms until our parents said we had to leave for the caves.” He dropped his gaze. “I heard some of them got in trouble for it with the law, and well, you know they’re hurtin’ without the extra hands.”

“They did what they thought was best,” Solindra replied. “That’s what all of us always do.” She shaded her eyes and watched the distant figures. They looked to be only half an inch tall from her vantage, trudging out to the fields and their harvesters.

Her upper lip curled. Most of these poor bastards didn’t have a damn thing to do with Saturni and the Priory’s personal feud.

Large men have even larger shadows. Something else her father had once said. These poor bastards lived and died in those shadows.

Her vision blurred by an attack of tears. She knew she’d seen him last night! She
knew
it hadn’t been just a dream.

Abigail nudged her shoulder. “You okay, Miss Solindra? You’ve got all pale.”

Solindra forced a smile. “Yeah. Of course. Everything looks normal.”

“Can we still be the Hex?” Davey raised his hand.

“Undercover,” she replied. “The Hex used to often pretend to be normal people while sneaking around cities.” She pointed. “We’ll also walk in on the road.”

Rosalyn adjusted her bonnet. “And pretend like we’re going to work. We’ve done this before, Miss Solindra.”

The vessel cocked a grin. “Right you are. Lead on then.”

The road into the town boasted the grooves of many heavy carts. The dirt drifted up and clung to their boots.

“That’s new.” Teddy pointed at a sign.

Solindra frowned. It read, “Citizens must check weapons at constable’s office. No exceptions! By Law.” She adjusted the rifle’s strap and shook her head. “Let’s just see if they stop me.”

The kids glanced up at her nervously.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of the way while you hustle to get the supplies. You know your way around the town and I don’t. Just be sneaky, like the Hex.”

“We know,” Abigail chirped. “We’ve done this four, no five, times already. Our parents leave everything ready to go.”

Teddy scowled. “Except flour. That wasn’t on Miss Elclei’s last list. Oh well, I know where to get that.”

The steam whistle of the train rolling out drowned their conversation. Solindra closed her eyes and listened to its song. First the whistle, then the chugging of the engine, and finally the rolling of the wheels along the rails. It wasn’t a Killing Train’s call, just a normal freight.

They passed the first building and Solindra swung into the narrow space between the train’s water tower and the postal office. She sat down on a barrel and hid Silvermark’s rifle behind her. “You kids hurry now, so we can get back before dark.”

They saluted. Davey’s too-long sleeve flew up over his hand and he grinned. The younger boy turned around and trotted in Teddy’s footsteps.

The vessel leaned her shoulder against the wall as the four disappeared into the mirthless crowd. She tapped her foot on the brick street and eyed what little of the train depot she could see. Dirt and grime coated its walls, and the tiles and bricks on the floor had been worn with overuse.

She listened and felt the vibrations running through the street below as another engine rolled into the station, just like back at home. She glanced over her shoulder to see another freight train. She heard the whistles of the engineers calling for the hose to be lowered to the steam engine from the water tower. Ahead of her, Codic soldiers marched through the streets between the workers, standing out in their gray uniforms. She kept an eye on the boiler tower with its massive steam-driven clock and waited.

“Silvermark!” Abigail smiled as she and Rosalyn jogged forward, carrying a burlap bag between them that was almost as tall as they were.

Solindra smiled and pressed a finger to her lips.

“Oh, right.” The girls giggled. They turned around and scanned the avenue for the boys.

“There’s Teddy!” Rosalyn pointed. “But he’s running! Oh no, so is Davey.”

Solindra’s hand immediately swung back for the rifle. She pumped a bullet into the chamber without thinking about it.

“Stop, boy!” A stout man in an apron was chasing the boys. “You didn’t show me your papers to buy that!”

Davey wailed. She couldn’t hear it, but she could see his mouth open in terror. White flour had spilled across his face from the bag he’d been clutching so tightly to his chest.

Across the way, a Codic soldier raised his pistol at the child. He aimed.

Silvermark’s rifle snapped into place on Solindra’s shoulder. The soldier’s back was to a brick building, outlining his uniform perfectly. She fired first.

The crack of the rifle was the only sound on the street.

His body rebounded off the wall and his shot went wild.

“Run, girls! Don’t be seen with me! Tell Elclei I did what I could.” She pumped the action again, reloading the chamber.

Solindra advanced away from the children. It amazed her how easy it had been. She’d shot dozens of birds with her father on the mountain, but with a different rifle. This one was so much smoother.

The man in the apron gaped, frozen in mid-step. Davey ran right past her and buried his head into Abigail’s arms. Teddy had also stopped so quickly that he’d fallen over, still staring at her. So was everyone else. The entire street had frozen. Solindra was the only thing in motion. The train’s final departure whistle growled across the unmoving avenue.

She marched over to the body of the soldier. His head had collapsed in on itself. The bullet had gone in his cheek and out his opposite ear to bury itself in the brick behind him.

With her boot, she traced out a hexagon in the dirt of the road. The dead man’s blood smeared into half of the outline.

“Okay, Smith, you and everyone else can try to find me.” She raised the silver rifle over her head, and sprinted for the train before the spell broke. She could only hope the children could melt away into the forest. And they could, she told herself, if she kept all eyes on her.

The train rumbled across the landscape, its engineers unaware of their extra passenger poking her head up over the roof of the car. Solindra swung Silvermark’s rifle onto her back again and turned to face the fading view of Ronna.

She’d just killed a soldier in public. The next engine to leave that train station would be after her – she’d seen all the interconnecting rails – and she was sure she could make out stacks of smoke and steam firing up from the station. She glanced off to the east and the shelter of the forest there. She could more than likely find her way back to the children’s cave.

She bowed her head. The best she could do for them now was not to lead anyone back to them.

She shaded her eyes. Yes, she could see it now. They’d hauled out in the tencar, a tiny engine that could hold a maximum of ten people. But it was faster than this lug.

She frowned and turned her back on the pursuit. She ambulated along the metal roof of the freight car, where she could barely hear her footsteps above wind and rumbling. Ahead was a bridge over a river. Ripples on its surface vibrated along with the bridge as the train started its crossing.

She untied the sancta from her waist. She could boil those soldiers alive when they caught up. Then she would draw another hexagon, and the rumors of the Hex would certainly fly further.

Coldness shook her shoulders and weighed them down. The Hex was her family, well, half of it was. She had to find them. She knew her father had asked that of her.

The tencar was gaining rapidly on the train. The water flashed beneath the train as it chugged along over the narrow, old-fashioned bridge. Soldiers took a few potshots, but all of them pinged off the metal, tens of feet away. But she ducked anyway, sliding down between two of the rolling cars.

Solindra held up the cipher medallion in one hand and hopped backward off the edge of the train.

Steam rose up from the river to meet her and swallowed her completely. The water splashed, but the ripples quickly washed downstream.

She hovered about a foot beneath the surface, surrounded and cushioned by a bubble of vapor. No water had even dampened her hair. It wasn’t too large, but with enough air to last a few minutes.

The water made her vision blurry, but she could see the rainbows chasing each other in the heavenly aether bands.

She scratched her ankle absently and glanced down at her boot. Blood still clung to her foot from the man she had killed. She had to laugh, and wondered if she’d had a rifle when she’d met Theo in Valhasse if she would have done the same.

Probably not, she decided. But that was then, and this was now.

Overhead, the tencar flashed by on the bridge. Soldiers standing on the engine mount, each with rifles in one hand, stretched out their other arms as far as possible toward the train.

***

Pearls of sweat shone across Theo’s forehead. His heart beat at least twice the pace of Smith’s pocket-watch as it counted off each second. He hissed and kept his face and shoulders hunched over the device. He’d had to take off his gloves and he tried to avoid staring at his scarred fingers.

Smith’s cane poked him between his shoulders blades again. His index finger shoved the switch forward, spilling quicksilver all over the table.

“Damn!” Theo smacked the small metallic cylinder over into the mercury.

Smith calmly held up the pocket watch in Theo’s direction. He waved it back and forth while raising his eyebrows.

The bricoleur closed his eyes and tried to breathe. His nostrils flared like a bull’s. He reached for the cylinder and slammed it back into place in front of him. He’d never made a switchpack before, the usual ignition device for most machinery, or with slight modification, most explosives.

They could be stolen off of almost any steampowered buggy in town. Why would Smith demand that they build their own? Especially these extra-large models.

Theo’s fingers danced around the glass bulb with its two exposed wires and dollops of mercury. He pulled up on the string, causing the bulb to tilt. The quicksilver completed the electrical circuit inside.

Sparks popped on the top of the switchpack. A small pillar of flame rose up in the cotton that Theo had stuck there for demonstration.

The bricoleur stepped back and breathed out.

Smith hovered over the table. Finally, he shook his head. “Not enough fire.”

“I hate fire.” Theo snarled and glared at the Reaper. “This is already bigger than most switchpacks. Let alone homemade ones.”

“The flame needs to breathe, Mr. Meilleur.” He rapped Theo’s scarred knuckles with the cane. “Something of which you didn’t understand well at some point.”

Theo shoved his hands out toward Smith. “This is Flame’s signature.”

Smith nodded and pushed forward the burner on the table. “And fire is something you possess, too. But you hate it.”

Theo didn’t move his heated glare. “I do.”

“And so you hate yourself.”

“You’re as bad as the rest of them.”

Smith ignored him. “Tell me, don’t you find fire fascinating?”

The bricoleur trembled with both rage and fear. “You… This is it. I’m done. I’m done with this war. I’m done with the Steamscape. I’m out.” He whirled around and flew across the room. He raised his hand to open the door.

“You walk out that door and you won’t make it two steps down that hall.”

Theo waited for that vicious voice to tell him what to do. It always knew how to survive. It had led him here, after all. Then again, it had such a bright, husky,
burning
voice.

Coldness blew in from the door with only the empty, silent corridor beyond.

He dipped his chin to his chest, and then turned to see the cheerful crackle of the flames on the burner. In that instant, he felt a flicker of comforting warmth. He shivered, but in the moment, everything was clear.

He was right. Smith was right. Theo cupped his hands around the fire and gulped. “I think I love the thing that I fear.”

“Tsk.” Smith frowned. “You just fear power. Fire was power for centuries, and still is in the barbarian lands. Here, it is steam that is stronger than fire.”

Theo snapped, “Without the fire, there is no steam.”

The Reaper chuckled to himself. “As you’ve seen, fire is not always required.” The cipher medallion clinked on the table beside the burner. Smith’s hand hovered over the device.

Then he tucked the sancta back into the folds of his jacket. “Currently, we use steam as a medium to transfer energy. The real trick is bringing the dissolved aether in the water into an energetic frenzy to power our more complex machines. Steam can do it alone, but not nearly as powerfully. But for decades the Priory has known how to ignite the aether itself, but it takes a much bigger spark.” He pushed the switchpack toward Theo again. “Hence, make the fire larger.”

***

Boras Saturni leaned back in his high-backed chair. Silver and gold plated his office walls. His desk had been polished until it could be used as a mirror.

He stared at the old lithograph on the inside cover of his pocket-watch. The image was cracked and fading. Helen’s face and smile had been split in twain because of a wrinkle in the picture. He remembered the original portrait. Infant Adri was somewhere at Helen’s feet, but he’d cropped this copy so that his wife’s face would fit inside the cover.

He caressed his thumb over her face. “I told you not to go yourself. Last year, I sent the best ten soldiers I had to get you, but they weren’t enough. So I sent everything I had and you’re still not here with me. Without you, I have nothing.”

The lamplight glistened off of platinum candlesticks, just sitting there collecting dust under the expensive electric glow.

He gently slid the cover of the watch closed. “Sometimes, I wish the Hex hadn’t vanished,” he said into the silence.

“Your wish is granted.” Drina uncurled herself from the shadows near the ceiling tiles. She slid down on a silk cord.

“Only half a wish. There’s only the three of us.” Flame jumped down behind her through the hole they had made. “Seriously, half a wish, folks.”

Jing descended last. His metal leg clinked against the metallic floor.

Saturni kicked back in his chair and stormed to his feet. He slammed his palm on the emergency bell.

Jing held up a small pair of scissors. “We thought of that, sir. We apologize.”

Drina held up her empty hands.

The head of Steampower scowled, but he straightened his shirt and merely glared at them. “You’re not here to kill me. I know you, Ms. de Avila, you were never one for excess conversation.”

She shook her head silently.

“We want work, Mr. Saturni,” Jing said plainly. “Times are tough these days, and with a war back on, our skills are back in demand.”

Flame leaned forward on the desk, his knuckles smearing its impeccable polish with grease. “I know you want me dead. But I’ve already detailed how to kill all the little kings of the board. In fact…” He reached into one of his bandoliers and struck a match.

Drina swatted it out of his hand. “Play nice.” She turned back to the steam baron. “And Mr. Saturni always was a crack shot.” She nodded to his hand.

Saturni lifted the pistol into view. “Indeed. Mr. Flame is correct, the board did vote in favor of his termination. I told them that they didn’t know what they had ordered.” He reached down with his other hand and brought up his tobacco pipe. He took a drag and puffed out a smoke ring. “Tell me, whatever happened on that day that you betrayed us? Some of those experiments could have led to the future of steam.”

Drina wrinkled her nose. “Adri’s infants?”

“The lot of stillborns? No.” He puffed up some more smoke, its sweet haze lazing about his beard and face. “The Priory’s notes. Those misers were onto something well before the Steam Age.” He pointed with his gun. “Now, where’s Canon? He’s the one who orchestrated burning the Priory’s manuals before stealing a baby.”

Jing shrugged. “We had commands to go to ground. We followed those orders, Mr. Saturni.”

“We did catch up with him eventually,” Drina cooed. “Long after we’d gotten his death warrant.”

“And what of him?” Saturni drawled.

“I got him.” Drina shrugged. “But there was no body left and we didn’t think that our word was currency anymore.”

“It still isn’t,” the Steampower head replied crisply.

She raised up her hands again. “Which is why we didn’t come back.”

“Which begs the question of why now. After all these years.”

The Death Spinner opened her mouth, but Jing placed a hand on her shoulder. He said, “Because we need to pay Codic back in blood for recent transgressions. We hear that you’ve got the war machine to do it, and I bet you’ll need someone who isn’t afraid to squeeze the trigger at its helm.”

Saturni chuckled dryly and leaned back down into his chair. “Yes, we do. But you’ll get nowhere near the helm.” He sucked on the pipe and set the pistol down on the desk, although within easy reach. Flame watched it like a cat. “The Hex is still currency. I’m sure you know that people are still afraid of you after all these years, which must speak something to the nature of your atrocities.” He paused to see the wince around Jing’s eyes. He cleared his throat and added, “Or at least to the imaginations of the little folk.”

“We need to get to Codic,” Flame whined. “I need to set
someone
on fire soon.” He was bouncing in place.

“Not in my house, you won’t.” Saturni frowned. “No, I need you to make some showing to the troops, wave at them, that sort of thing. Mr. Flame, you may set a few prisoners on fire if you need to, but please do it in public, and then only the worst ones.”

“Sideshows?” Drina rolled her eyes and sneered.

“Propaganda. Visible demonstration of your skills, and then being with the troops in a very decisive battle. You know the business code, only choose the healthy risks. They have more troops, but we have better machines, so we’ve chosen a machines’ battlefield. You just need to give our boys’ morale a kick.”

“That’s not what we want.” Drina pushed off from the desk. “Our payment better be some damned fine information.”

Saturni frowned. “Information is what will be kept from you.”

Jing narrowed his eyes. “This battle is just a distraction, isn’t it? Why else would you publicize the Hex joining it?”

The president of the company flicked a silver letter opener across the desk to the mechanic. “Keep it as a bonus, Mr. Li.”