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Authors: Matthew J. Kirby

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BOOK: The Clockwork Three
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Hannah smiled. “Why?”

Frederick cast her an impatient frown.

“I’ve been telling Freddy that it needs a spell,” Giuseppe said. “Magnus was a magician, after all.”

“He was a scientist,” Frederick said. “For the last time, you don’t make automatons with spells.”

But you could. Golems were automatons of a sort, and Madame Pomeroy said they were made with spells. Hannah felt for the lump of clay in her pocket, with its strange inscription. It felt warm in her hand, full of portent and potential.

“How did your morning go, Hannah?” Giuseppe asked.

“I didn’t find the treasure,” she said. It felt too exhausting right now to talk about the secret passages and Miss Wool. “But I found another clue. This evening I’m going up to the Heights to Mister Twine’s mansion. But I want you both to come with me this time.”

“We will,” Giuseppe said. When Frederick said nothing, Giuseppe hit him on the arm.

“Huh? Oh, yes. Of course we will.” Frederick scratched his head. “I’m hungry. I think I forgot to eat breakfast. Would either of you like some lunch?”

“I would,” Giuseppe said.

“Me too,” Hannah said.

“Wait here.” Frederick went upstairs.

“He keeps leaving us down here,” Giuseppe said.

Hannah looked at the clockwork man, the tin barrel chest and the heavy arms and legs. It all fit together so nicely, except for the bronze head, which seemed foreign and of an altogether different quality. It came from another place and distant time, fashioned by means Hannah could not even guess at. Spells might have been involved for all she knew. Like the spells that may have once brought the piece of clay in her pocket to life. She pulled it out, an idea forming.

“I saw you holding that in the museum,” Giuseppe said. “You took it?”

“Shh.” Hannah opened the panel door on the chest plate and stared at the gears, avoiding Giuseppe’s eyes out of shame. “It was an accident.”

“What are you looking for?”

What
was
she looking for? What did she know about clockwork? Nothing. But she knew about people. It was the heart that made people live, and hurt, and love. And this clockwork man did not have one.

She thought of Yakov, her golem, and how he had said he would miss her. She would miss him, too. She kissed the piece of clay, leaving a wet spot, and wedged it inside the chest, away from anything that looked like it might turn or spin or move.

“What are you doing?” Giuseppe asked.

“I’m giving his clockwork man a heart,” she said. “Don’t tell Frederick.”

“I won’t,” Giuseppe said with a sly smile.

Hannah closed up the door and stepped away from the worktable.

Frederick returned minutes later with a platter of bread and cheese, some fruit preserves, and butter. The three of them finished off every last crumb, and Giuseppe looked like he could still have eaten more.

“Could I talk to the head, Frederick?” Hannah asked.

He got to his feet and brushed his hands off. “Of course.”

Hannah rose and followed him to the table. Frederick pressed the forehead panel closed, and the clockwork started turning. The eyes opened, and then the mouth, but instead of saying
“Cur,”
the head made a kind of groaning noise.

Frederick looked alarmed. “What’s going on?”

One of the arms lifted, and Hannah jumped back. It shot straight up, pointing at the ceiling. Then it dropped with a thud on the wooden table, and then both arms moved.

Giuseppe backed up against the wall. “I think you two should watch out.”

Hannah nodded, but had to pull Frederick away. The look on his face had become one of sheer excitement.

In the next moment the clockwork man sat up. It turned its head from side to side, and gradually the groaning subsided, turning into
something that sounded more like a laugh. Then, without warning, it leaped from the table and vaulted up the cellar stairs in two leaps. A second or two of shock passed before the three of them ran after it.

“No!” Frederick shouted. “Come back!”

They tumbled over each other into the shop’s front room and found the door still swinging open. Frederick hurried out into the street.

“Oh, no,” Hannah said, hanging back. “No, no, no.”

Giuseppe came up beside her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell. But you know this means we have to help him get it back.”

“But you can’t go outside right now.”

He pulled up his coat collar. “Right now, I’m more worried about what that thing might do.”

Hannah nodded. She had not expected this, had not really expected anything to come of it when she put that piece of golem inside the chest, but it was still her fault. Together, she and Giuseppe left the shop and followed Frederick.

CHAPTER 22

Captured

W
HEN GIUSEPPE AND HANNAH STEPPED OUT INTO THE STREET,
they found Frederick already trudging back. Then Giuseppe saw Master Branch walking behind him, accompanied by the man from the museum with the dusty hair. Giuseppe scanned for the two thugs, but did not see them. He thought about running right then, but could not leave Frederick alone.

“These two were with him,” the man with the dusty hair said when they all met in the street. “This girl and this boy. They are all of them thieves.”

Master Branch held up his hand. “There is still no proof of that, Mister Diamond.”

“There will be once we search your shop, Clockmaker.”

Master Branch sighed. He took in Giuseppe, Frederick, and Hannah with weary, worried eyes. “Inside, please. All of you.”

Frederick’s head swung low, and Hannah was shaking hers. They reentered the shop and assembled in a circle around Master Branch.

“Children,” he said, “Mister Diamond came to the guildhall this morning with an accusation of theft. This is a serious business, and we took most of the morning deliberating what to do with it. He named
Frederick as the thief, and said that there were another boy and a girl with him.”

Hannah stiffened next to Giuseppe.

Master Branch continued. “Now, I have tried to reassure Mister Diamond that there must be some mistake. Surely no apprentice would endanger the guild’s reputation with an act of burglary. But neither can we be seen to condone or ignore criminal acts. As a courtesy, I offered to let Mister Diamond search my shop. I know that his search will be fruitless.” With that, Master Branch looked straight at his apprentice.

Frederick would not lift his eyes.

“I think the three of them should remain here with you, Master Clockmaker, while I conduct my search.”

“They will remain here, but I will accompany you. You do not have to worry about them fleeing the premises.”

Mister Diamond held his hands together, in front of his chest, agitated fingers wriggling like spider legs. “Very well.”

Master Branch gestured toward the stairs. “Shall we start with my quarters?” The two of them left, and Giuseppe listened to them moving about overhead. No one said anything, and Frederick did not meet Giuseppe’s or Hannah’s eyes, either.

Some time later, they came back downstairs, and made a search of the shop. Mister Diamond appeared to be growing increasingly frustrated, and began to curse each time he opened a cupboard or a drawer and found it empty. They moved into the back workroom.

“Where does that door go?” they heard him ask.

“The cellar,” Master Branch said. “But we never go down there. The stairs are too difficult for me.”

“Then don’t you mean
you
never go down there?” Mister Diamond said. They heard the cellar door open, and then footsteps descending. Giuseppe found his heart was pounding even though he knew there was nothing down there.

Mister Diamond seemed to take longer than needed and, when he returned, announced, “Well, someone’s been working in your cellar, Master Branch.”

“I have used it in the past,” Master Branch said.

They came out into the front room, and Master Branch cast a suspicious glance at Frederick as he showed Mister Diamond to the door. “I trust we can put this matter behind us?”

“Hardly.” Mister Diamond snorted. “This matter is anything but settled.”

“The guild has cooperated with you,” Master Branch said. “And even after this search you have produced no evidence. Perhaps if you could put forward any witnesses to corroborate your account —?”

“I already told you, there were no other witnesses.”

A shared look flashed between Giuseppe, Frederick, and Hannah. Why would he lie about the other two men who were there?

“Then I believe we are done,” Master Branch said. “Whether you choose to let the matter rest or not.”

Mister Diamond screwed up his mouth in a frown. “We shall see,” he said, and stormed from the shop, slamming the door behind him.

After he left, the four of them stood for a moment before Frederick spoke.

“Thank you for standing up for me, sir.”

Master Branch did not look kindly on his apprentice. “Think nothing of it. Any theft by an apprentice would, of course, bar him for life
from joining the guild, and I know you would never jeopardize that for yourself.” He turned to Hannah and Giuseppe. “I trust neither of you would do anything that might imperil Frederick’s standing, either, would you?”

Hannah shook her head.

“No, sir,” Giuseppe said.

“Good. And now, I think I shall go upstairs. I arose so early this morning, I feel the need for a nap. Try and keep quiet, whatever you do, and lock up the shop if you leave.”

“We will,” Frederick said.

Master Branch left them, and a pall of silence spread out from his wake that lasted several moments before the three of them shuffled through the front door. The noises on the street broke the silence between them, and Frederick was the first one to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“We already forgave you,” Hannah said.

“And that doesn’t change just ’cause we got caught,” Giuseppe said.

Frederick relaxed and smiled. “Thanks.”

“We’re going to help you find it,” Hannah said. “So we can return it.”

“It shouldn’t be hard,” Giuseppe said. “I mean, it’s the middle of the day, and that thing doesn’t exactly blend in.”

“You’re right,” Frederick said. “Let’s ask around if anyone’s seen it.”

Evening came, and they had not yet found even a trace of the clockwork man. The three of them stood perplexed on the sidewalk as Basket Street shopkeepers closed up their storefronts around them. The tantalizing smell of supper meat cooking over an open flame drifted around them. All afternoon Giuseppe had managed to avoid being seen by any of the
buskers, but he knew the popular corners and had avoided them. Once or twice he had had to duck into an alley, or take Frederick and Hannah down a lesser-traveled byway, but so far he felt safe.

“It’s like it just disappeared,” Hannah said. “How could it?”

“It couldn’t,” Frederick said. “But it is a clever device. Apparently it doesn’t want to be found.”

“Wait. You mean it’s hiding?” Giuseppe had assumed all day they were looking for a metal man running amok.

“I’m beginning to think so,” Frederick said. “You two can go back to the shop. Or go home, if you like, Hannah. I’ll keep looking.”

“No,” Hannah said. “We’ll help you.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to go up to Twine’s mansion this evening?” Frederick asked.

Hannah shook her head. “Don’t worry about that.”

Giuseppe ran down all the places they had been, and all the places they had not. He was all for helping Frederick, but knowing now that this clockwork contraption might be deliberately lying low somewhere, just tick-tocking away, made the job of finding it seem impossible. And he was getting tired of the looks they received when they asked people in the different neighborhoods if they had seen a metal man with a bronze head running around.

“Well,” Giuseppe said. “Where would a clockwork man go to hide?”

“I’m not sure,” Frederick said. “But we haven’t been down to the Quay yet.”

“There’s plenty of warehouses and buildings down there,” Hannah said.

They turned south and headed down the street toward the River Delilah. Along the way Giuseppe watched the pedestrians, and passed a
few open corners, spots he could have turned into money farms if he had the green violin. His old fiddle was back at Frederick’s, down in the cellar where he had left it in the commotion.

“Giuseppe, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Frederick’s tone was softer. “That song you were playing the other night, up in Hannah’s apartment.”

“What about it?”

“I’ve heard it before. My mother used to sing it to me, except I can’t remember the words.”

“I don’t know the words, either,” Giuseppe said. “I heard it years ago when Stephano first brought me here.”

“Where did you hear it?” Frederick asked.

“A lady was humming it out a hospital window.”

Frederick stopped and grabbed Giuseppe by the arm. “What?” he asked.

Hannah was looking at Giuseppe, too.

Giuseppe glanced back and forth between them. “What is it?”

“Which hospital?” Frederick asked.

“I don’t know. The one on Orchard Street, maybe. Why?”

Frederick looked at Hannah.

“It could be,” she said.

Giuseppe spread his hands out. “What could be?”

“My mother,” Frederick said. He looked back up Basket Street, and seemed ready to take a step in that direction.

“Do you want to go now?” Hannah asked.

“No.” Frederick turned south again. “No, we have to find the Magnus head first.”

They continued down the street, and Giuseppe wondered what that
meant, but then he remembered the conversation he had overheard when Frederick had asked Hannah to go to a hospital to find out about his mother.

Halfway to the Quay, dusk firmly settled, Giuseppe turned his collar down. The crowds on the street were thinning, and the shadows were blooming, and he felt more confident. But then he saw them.

Ezio and Paolo. Up ahead, they stalked the road toward him amid a throng of pedestrians. Giuseppe stopped, Paolo looked his way, and Giuseppe ducked out of the crowd against a nearby building. Frederick and Hannah stopped and looked at him.

“Keep walking,” Giuseppe said.

“What?” Hannah asked.

“You’re drawing attention, keep walking!”

The two moved on with puzzled expressions and backward glances. Giuseppe tried to be as flat as he could, and scanned for escape routes. The city blocks here were tightly clustered, barely inches between buildings, so no alleys. He could make a run back up Basket Street, but they would follow him. Had Paolo seen him?

Frederick and Hannah had stopped a few yards on, looking confused but unconcerned, like a couple of chickens pecking the dirt around the chopping block.

And then Paolo and Ezio appeared over their shoulders. They grinned at Giuseppe, and he ran. Frederick and Hannah called after him, but he kept running, and over his shoulder saw Paolo and Ezio closing fast.

Then, right in front of him, a farmer backed his cart of apples up to a grocer’s stall, cutting him off. He skidded and tried to circle around, but slipped on the curb. Paolo and Ezio were on him like two wild dogs on a bone.

They beat him, a hail of fists, kicks to his side and stomach. Giuseppe tasted blood, gasped for air. Their fingers dug into his skin, and they twisted his arms back to the breaking point.

“You’re not getting away this time,” Paolo laughed.

Ezio hissed in his ear, “You’re dead, you know.”

Rough cord snagged Giuseppe’s wrists as they tied his hands behind his back. Then Frederick and Hannah came running up. Frederick had picked up a length of wood somewhere, and he seemed ready to fight with it, but Hannah held him back. They looked helpless. Paolo and Ezio spun Giuseppe around, and marched him up the street.

Giuseppe heard Hannah cry, “Somebody, help!”

But he knew no one would.

No one ever did.

“So where’ve you been, Giu?” Paolo asked. “We’ve been looking for you for days now. Ever since you gave Stephano the slip.”

Giuseppe said nothing. He spat blood on the cobblestones, and felt one of his eyes swelling. A few pedestrians offered looks of concern as he staggered past them, but no one said anything or asked any questions. Some looked away as soon as they saw him.

“I’d say my piece if I was you,” Ezio said. “You can’t talk with your throat cut.”

Giuseppe had nothing to say because he felt nothing. A numbness spread over him with each step toward Crosby Street, as if his will were bleeding out, leaving a trail of it in the street.

A few blocks from Stephano’s lair, Paolo asked, “What do you want to do with him?”

“We’ll stick him in the rat cellar till Stephano gets back,” Ezio said. “That way —”

There was a thud, and Ezio lurched forward with a grunt and fell to the ground. Giuseppe turned and saw Pietro standing behind him with a crowbar.

“Hey!” Paolo shouted.

Pietro swung the crowbar, and Paolo went down, clutching his knee and howling.

“Run!” Pietro shouted. The crowbar clanged on the street, and Pietro disappeared down a nearby alley.

Giuseppe bolted in the opposite direction just as Ezio struggled to his feet.

It was hard to run, one good eye and his hands tied behind his back. He bumped into corners and stumbled often. He would not escape hampered like this, and he knew it even as he ran. He had nowhere to go, no place to hide. Ezio chased him, screaming obscenities, and Giuseppe laughed at himself for even trying, but he ran just the same, just to keep from giving up. What was Pietro thinking? He had bought Giuseppe one last race through the city, but at what cost to himself? Paolo had probably already caught him.

Giuseppe rounded a corner wide and glimpsed the Old Rock Church. Yellow light from inside warmed the windows. Giuseppe sprinted for the churchyard, and dove among the tombstones, white in the blue dusk. Ezio charged in after him. He was breathing hard, moving among the graves.

BOOK: The Clockwork Three
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