The White City (20 page)

“A pleasure to see you again, Iron Tail,” the Pirate Queen said. “Keeping a good eye on Jefferson?”

“Always,” Iron Tail said.

“What’s this favor, Lorene?” Jasper asked. “I’m not getting mixed up with any heist you’re cooking up at the—”

“You know I wouldn’t trust a half-wit like you with one of my jobs,” she said. “I’m here for information only.” She looked around at the wide-eyed cowboys and Comanche in the room. “Get clear of here!” she snarled with a cock of her thumb.

Iron Tail remained seated, but the other men pushed to get out the door. When it closed, Jasper glanced up at Conker and then back to the Pirate Queen. “Information, huh? About what?”

“The Gog,” the Pirate Queen said.

“I don’t know anything about the Gog. He’s just a Rambler legend.”

The Pirate Queen shook her head. “His name is G. Octavius Grevol.”

Jasper blinked sharply. “Mister Grevol?”

“You’ve heard of him?” she said.

“Course I have.” Jasper shifted in his seat. “He’s got Burnham and the rest of the fair’s directors under his thumb. I’ve heard strange things about Mister Grevol, but … the Gog? That’s ludicrous. The Gog fell, along with most of the Ramblers, back when John Henry destroyed his Machine.”

“No, he didn’t,” Conker said. “He survived. And he’s built a new Machine.”

Jasper smirked and shook his head skeptically. “How would you know?”

The Pirate Queen leaned closer. “He’s John Henry’s son.”

Jasper’s eyes widened with momentary surprise. He quickly composed himself, running his fingers along his mustache. “So what is it you—”

“Where’s Grevol’s headquarters?” the Pirate Queen asked.

“That’s not too hard, I guess,” Jasper said. “I suspect finding him is the least of the hazards you’re going to bring down on yourselves. Grevol has an exhibit hall that’s called the Hall of Progress.”

“The Shadow in the White City,” Iron Tail added.

Jasper grunted in agreement. “That’s what some call it. You’ve seen the White City. Half the buildings look like ancient temples and palaces. The rest are a hodgepodge of replicas of Spanish missions and Swedish castles and whatnot. But
Grevol’s hall is different. It’s got none of the beauty of the rest of the White City. His Hall of Progress is functional and daunting and painted completely black.”

The Pirate Queen was listening intently, her fingers absently going to her mouth as if she had forgotten she had no cigar there.

Jasper continued, “It’s said that no light can fall on the Hall of Progress’s facade. That the designers built it to play on the shadows, like a mountain among white clouds. I haven’t gone in it. Bill’s kept us plenty busy here. But I’ve heard that when you enter, you go from the dark clinging to the exterior to an inside of enormous light, electric and clear. Brighter than Edison’s Tower of Light over in the Electricity Building.”

Conker looked down at Si, and she said, “We never went in that building, but I remember seeing it. Where’s it located?”

“It’s just to the west of Big Mary,” Jasper said.

“The golden liberty statue,” Conker said. “We know where that is.”

“Then you’ll find his hall easy enough.” Jasper drummed his fingers on the table, working out his thoughts. “So you really believe Mister Grevol is the Gog?”

“We know he is,” Conker said.

“And his Machine?”

Marisol answered, “We’ve seen what it does. In Kansas, where the Gog has been secretly building his Machine, good people have become his servants. Those that try to escape sicken and die. If Grevol brings his Darkness down on Chicago, not only will the city fall, we’ll lose our friends … we’ll lose ourselves. We will all become the mindless gears turning the Gog’s engine!”

Jasper frowned and looked over at Iron Tail.

The old man said, “I’m no medicine man. I’m just an old warrior who’s fought too many losing battles. But Samuel Lone Elk speaks to spirits. He says he’s seen ghosts wandering the fair’s grounds. Ghosts disguised as men and women, even children. They know not that they are ghosts, but some devil has stolen their spirits.”

“What’s happened to them?” Si asked. “Grevol hasn’t brought down the Darkness yet. Are they people from Omphalosa?”

“Why would they be walking around?” Conker said through a clenched jaw.

“Surely Gigi and the rest from Omphalosa are putting together Grevol’s Machine in the Gloaming,” Marisol said. “And when they finish—”

“Look! This is suicidal,” Jasper said. “Even if Grevol isn’t the Gog, do you realize how powerful he is? He has an army of Pinkerton agents, not to mention he controls the mayor, the police, state militia. They all answer to Grevol. Give this up before you wind up like the rest of the Ramblers.”

Conker spoke in his deep rumbling voice. “My father died trying to stop the Gog. I aim to finish his work. I’ll die if I have to, but not before I see that Machine destroyed and Grevol with it.”

The room was quiet. Jasper smoothed his mustache before nodding to the Pirate Queen. “And you, Lorene?”

The Pirate Queen stood. “I’ve gotten myself mixed up with lost causes before, haven’t I? See you, Jefferson.”

Jasper rose slowly from his chair.

The Pirate Queen headed out the door, followed by Mister
Lamprey and the others. Conker looked back once more at Jasper and Iron Tail. The cowboy touched a hand to his hat and gave him a grim nod.

When they left the encampment behind Buffalo Bill’s coliseum and returned to the busy sidewalk underneath the elevated train tracks, Lamprey said, “I’ve seen the Hall of Progress on our rounds, my lady. I don’t know how the sanitation crew enters, but we could—”

“Conker!” Redfeather said.

Conker was walking away from the others, headed toward the docks.

“Where are you going?” the Pirate Queen called.

Conker rounded. “You know where I’m going.”

“Don’t be a fool,” she snapped. “If you’re anywhere near that hall, agents for the Gog will spy you in a moment.”

Si faced the Pirate Queen at Conker’s side. “Buck’s in trouble! And now we know where he and the hammer are.”

Mister Lamprey was casting an anxious eye at the passersby, many of them unable to avoid noticing the strange group arguing in the thoroughfare. The Pirate Queen moved closer to Conker and Si, her voice lowered. “We’ll do nothing hastily. Do you hear? I haven’t gotten to where I am without following carefully laid plans. We rush into that hall without a plan, it’ll be as good as turning a gun on Buck’s head. Back to the
Snapdragon
.”

The moment lingered with heavy tension as a clattering train passed overhead on the tracks. Marisol and Redfeather looked from Conker to the Pirate Queen. Finally, Conker growled and strode past the others, heading toward the docks.
Conker ate his meal silently, the noise of the galley all around. Si leaned across the table and snapped her fingers. “Conk,” she called through the din.

He looked up slowly, his brow furrowed.

“You okay?”

Conker nodded and continued absently eating from the plate of chitterlings and apple-cheddar pie. He thought about Iron Tail’s words.
They know not that they are ghosts, but some devil has stolen their spirits
. Who were these people? What was happening to them?

The possibilities chilled him. They had to hurry. They had to get back the Nine Pound Hammer so he could … so he could what? He couldn’t reach the Machine in the Gloaming.

“Eat your meal in peace,” the Pirate Queen said from down the table. Conker looked over at her, and her frown softened slightly. “I’ve got an idea, and we’ll discuss it after we’ve had our fill of Etienne’s slop.”

Etienne looked up, his fork perched before his mouth and a look of hurt in his eyes.

“Toughen up, Frenchie,” Mister Lamprey said, and the table bellowed with laughter. Big Jimmie clapped Etienne on the back, and the cook forced a grin.

The door behind Etienne burst open. The yellow shock of Hobnob’s hair came through. “Sirens, my lady! Sirens at the stern! And they’ve brought Buck.”

T
HE
P
IRATE
Q
UEEN PUSHED AND BATTED HER WAY THROUGH
her crew as she headed up the gangway.

As Conker reached the moonlit deck, he wedged through the crowd. Piglet was kneeling on the wet planks. Behind her, the pair of sirens—one blond, the other auburn-haired—huddled together, ghostly pale in strange woven gowns like the one that Jolie wore.

The pirates surrounded Piglet and murmured and gasped to one another. A man lay before her, drenched and shadowy and seemingly drowned.

“Buck!” Marisol cried.

The Pirate Queen dropped to Buck’s side, pushing back the wet tangle of hair from his face.

“He’s alive, my lady,” Piglet said.

Hobnob leaned over the Pirate Queen’s shoulder. “The sirens, they found him in the lake.”

“He’s bleeding,” the Pirate Queen said, pulling the tattered front of Buck’s shirt open. Black slashes crisscrossed his chest.

Buck opened his eyes, the pair of orbs seeming to glow in the moonlight. His lips drew back, and he groaned through clenched teeth. “Lorene?”

“What happened?” the Pirate Queen asked.

“Stacker …” Buck’s face knotted, and he groaned again.

The Pirate Queen barked, “Get him to my quarters, Lamprey!”

“Aye,” Lamprey called. “I’ll get the medical kit and the whiskey.” He dashed off.

Big Jimmie lifted Buck, and the pirates parted. Si and Redfeather followed the Pirate Queen belowdecks. The rest of the pirates drifted toward the galley, mumbling to one another and looking back at the sirens.

When Conker turned, he saw Marisol already speaking to them. “Thank you for bringing him to us.”

The blond siren spoke in a sharp voice. “He was nearly drowned. We asked the waters, our grandmother, to spare his life.”

“We did not know what to do with him,” the other siren said gently, a hint of apprehension in her voice. “He was barely conscious. Mumbling names we did not know. Then your boat rowed over us. He heard your voices. He seemed to know you. You are a friend to this man?”

“An old friend,” Conker affirmed. “You’re sirens. Why are you here? Do you come from the Terre—?”

The blond siren grabbed her sister’s arm and pulled her to the rail. “Go!” she said.

“Wait!” Conker called.

The auburn-haired siren leaped from the rail. The blond one looked back. “Our debt is paid to that outlaw.” Then she followed her sister, disappearing into the black waters with only the faintest splash.

Conker furrowed his brow at the siren’s strange parting words. “I didn’t mean to scare them.”

“It’s okay,” Marisol said. “We’re strangers to them.”

Conker put his hands to the railing, peering out at the waters. “Jolie said her sisters had returned to the Terrebonne.”

Marisol shook her head. “Then they’re a long way from home.”

The following morning, Conker and Si waited at the top of the gangway as Mister Lamprey came up the stairs with a tray of empty bowls and plates.

“How is he?” Si asked.

“Stacker’s slashes were shallow,” Lamprey said. “Needed a little stitching, but Eustace has seen worse. Mostly just worn out from the ordeal. Go see him for yourself. He’s awake.”

Conker followed Si down to knock on the door. The Pirate Queen grumbled, “Come in,” in a tired voice.

They entered to find Buck with his head propped on thick silk pillows and the brocade covers turned back at his waist. The ragged cowboy looked alien among the finery.

“How are you doing?” Conker asked.

Buck shifted a bit until he was sitting up. “All right, I suppose. I’m ready to get up from this confounded pouf, though!”

The Pirate Queen clapped a hand over him. “Stay put until supper. We’ll let you join us if you’re a good boy.”

Buck scowled but dropped his head back to the pillow. He sighed heavily and held out a hand. “Let me feel it,” he said.

Conker and Si exchanged curious glances.

“Your hand,” Buck said. “I need to know how bad it is.”

She let him take her by the palm. Buck traced his fingertips across her knuckles until he found the missing finger. “The tattoo?” he whispered in his gravelly voice.

“It’s gone,” she replied. “The powers have gone.”

He dropped his hands from hers and contorted his face. “I should have stopped Stacker. I … should have done something, but I … I just—”

“I was there too,” Conker said. “We just weren’t quick enough.”

“But you acted,” Buck said. “I did nothing. Si, I can’t tell you how sorry …”

Si slipped her hands back to his. “It’s okay. You’ve given up your guns. You’re walking a new path now, Buck. You can’t blame yourself for something Stacker did.”

“Believe me,” Conker growled, “when I see that murdering ally of the Gog, I’m going to tear his—”

“I don’t think he is,” Buck said.

“Is what?” Conker asked.

“An ally to the Gog.”

“But he serves Grevol,” the Pirate Queen said skeptically. “He brought you to him, along with the hammer.”

“Grevol has lost Stacker’s loyalty,” Buck said.

“He told you that?” Si gasped.

“No, but I can tell. Stacker wants the clockwork removed from his heart. He wants to be a man again, and he knows Grevol’s never going to allow it.” Buck shifted uncomfortably in the bed. “Don’t get me wrong. Stacker’s wicked. He’s a killer through and through. But he’s no ally to the Gog.”