Howls and Hallows: A Steampunk Fairy Tale (Steampunk Red Riding Hood Book 5)

by Melanie Karsak

  Reaching for another jar, she paused. After a moment, she set it on the counter then turned to me. “Witches is a misnomer, as you no doubt already realized.”

  “Druids then.”

  “Not even that. You forget that at one time, all the people in this land were pagan. All the people in this land once worshipped the old gods and practiced the old ways.”

  “I see,” I said, truly grateful to the woman for putting some pieces of the puzzle together. Old Lord Cabell hadn’t murdered witches; he had wiped out a village that clung to the old ways. At the beating heart of England was a pantheon of gods, of old, sacred things and pagan ways that didn’t want to be forgotten. The Cabell family had been cursed for trying to extinguish one of the last strongholds of the old gods. “What do you make of the curse? Can such a thing be lifted, mended by time or the actions of later generations?”

  She shrugged. “It depends on the actions and understanding of later generations. Perhaps Lord Edison Cabell is capable of making amends, his sister—for all her professed interest in the occult—is not.

  “Did you know that there is something awake in the fens?”

  The woman smiled knowingly. “Indeed, I do. But I’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing,” she said then turned back to her mortar. Giving the powder one last grind, she poured the concoction into a paper pouch, sealed it, then handed it to me. “Two teaspoons mixed with water every four hours until the symptoms go away.”

  “Thank you,” I said, taking it from her. “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. But leave my daughter in peace. She doesn’t know anything, and you’ve scared my girl out of her wits. I reassured her that you’re just doing your job, that people like you are trained to notice people like us. I told her that she doesn’t need to be afraid. Does she?”

  “Not of me. I’m sorry she was frightened.”

  Shannon inclined her head to me in thanks. “Once this matter at Cabell Manor is settled, you’ll be going?”

  “Yes. I have no interest in terrorizing the local, friendly hearth witch.”

  She chuckled. “What more can I ask for? You’ll be going back to the ruins, back out on the fen?”

  “Yes. Whatever is lurking out there, I need to find it before someone gets hurt.”

  She nodded, took a deep breath, then said, “A word of warning. This is an old place, a magical place. There are things out there you will not have encountered before, creatures who are just trying to survive. It would not be wise to push them.”

  “What kind of creatures?”

  “I—” she said then cast a glance toward the window.

  I followed her gaze. To my surprise, the sky had suddenly become overcast, and rain had started to fall. Raindrops splattered on the window of the shop.

  “I dare not say more. Tread carefully, and be…reverent.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her.

  She inclined her head. “Blessed be ye.”

  I gave the packet a little wave, slipped it into my pocket, then headed outside. In the distance, thunder rolled, but the rain stopped. A moment later, the sun shone through the clouds once more.

  Reverent.

  Now, I didn’t hear that word every day. The fens were turning out to be far more interesting than I ever expected.

  Chapter 17: Of Lions and Gargoyles

  I walked the length of the village, passing the church Lord Samson had mentioned—and its mildly pagan stones—, the Cabell House school, and other small cottages and businesses. Aside from the apothecary, nothing else stuck out. Perplexed by Shannon’s words, I headed to The Three Lions where I found Lord Cabell surrounded by a group of local villagers, laughing loudly and looking far more at ease than I had seen him since I’d arrived.

  “Agent Louvel,” he called when I entered.

  The others gave me a less friendly welcome, eyeing me and my red cape suspiciously.

  Lord Cabell waved me over. “Gents, this is the lady I was telling you about.”

  Oh lord.

  I smiled at the little assembly. “Gentlemen.”

  They eyed me over, unsure of how to respond. A couple of men tipped their hats. The others simply stared, looking me over from head to toe.

  “Let’s get a drink for the agent,” Lord Cabell said then motioned to the bartender to pour me a bitter. Lord Cabell retrieved the cup, handed it to me, then clicked his glass against mine.

  “To better days,” he said.

  “To better days,” I agreed.

  Lord Cabell drank deeply.

  Mindful of my words to Harper, I took a small sip.

  “And what is it, again, the agent does?” one of the local men asked.

  “Law enforcement,” I said with a wry grin.

  “So you’re a lady constable?” one of the gentlemen asked. He swayed as he spoke, the front of his shirt wet with either ale or perspiration, I wasn’t sure which. He eyed my pistols.

  “Something like that.”

  “Very modern,” one of the men said, the others nodding vigorously in agreement.

  I tried not to roll my eyes.

  “Let’s have a seat, Agent,” Lord Cabell said, motioning to a table in the back. “I’m hungry. You?”

  “Very.”

  Lord Cabell clapped the men around us on the backs, shook hands with the lot, then waved for me to follow him to a table at the corner. He motioned to the bartender then settled back into his seat with his drink.

  “Find what you were after?” Lord Cabell asked.

  “In a way. And you?”

  “Oh, you’ll see,” he said with a grin. “I can’t wait to hear what you think. Now, you need to tell me something about yourself. How long have you worked with Sir Edwin?”

  “A bit over a year.”

  “He spoke very highly of you,” Lord Cabell said, a glimmer in his eye. “Very highly.”

  “Did he, now?”

  “He let me know you’d be staying on for the ball, assuming all goes well, as his guest.”

  I lifted my drink and sipped, quieting the butterflies that had suddenly swarmed my stomach. “Yes. Well, Edwin and I are attached.”

  “So he mentioned, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Charlotte. Poor dear, she had her heart set on Edwin for some time. I warned her it would all come to nothing.”

  “And now?”

  “Ah, that’s all past. There’s a Scottish lord with a slightly less foggy estate at whom she’s now set her cap.”

  I chuckled. “And you, Lord Cabell, has some young lady set her cap at you and your foggy estate?”

  “Several, but none quite as endearing as Agent Harper. Do you mind my asking about her?”

  I coughed lightly, choking a little on my ale. “Harper?”

  “Yes. Is Agent Harper attached?”

  The tapster returned with two more drinks and two plowman’s platters. My mouth started watering as soon as I spotted the Scotch egg. I was famished. But I was also intrigued. In her drunken state last night, had Harper managed to land herself a lord?

  “I’m not certain, honestly,” I said, thinking of Harper’s history with Alan Quartermain. But she was here, and he was in Africa. I didn’t know what, exactly, that meant. I suspected that whatever had flourished between them was now done and over with. But I wasn’t sure.

  “She’s such a bright thing, and she seems like a sincere girl.”

  “So she is.”

  “I grow tired of courtly ladies and their games. I’ve had enough guile for one lifetime. I suspect Edwin shares my sentiments on the matter. Do you know anything about Agent Harper’s family?”

  And here is where his hopes come to die. “Only a little. Harper is a commoner, like me.”

  Lord Cabell waved his hand dismissively. “None of that matters these days.” Lord Cabell picked up his tankard once more, grinning as he sipped, lost in his thoughts.

  Good for Harper.

  Well, maybe good for Harper. I suppose that depended on what she w
as looking for. And honestly, I had no idea.

  I turned back to my platter once more, breaking off bits of cheese, Scotch egg, and greens until I had formed the perfect bite. Sticking the delicious morsels in my mouth, I sighed contentedly then gave Lord Cabell a passing look. He was staring off into the distance, a silly grin on his face.

  I chuckled. I wonder if Harper knew she’s been on a big game hunt all this time. Sometimes love sneaks up on you like that. One day you’re just doing your job, the next you realize your heart has run out the door.

  Lifting my tankard, I took a sip, my eyes scanning the tavern. They came to rest on the image on the wall directly across from me. It was a painting of a lion. I drank once more, trying to drown the sinking feeling in my stomach.

  Yes, sometimes your heart runs off before you even know it.

  Bloody traitor.

  After Lord Cabell and I finished our lunches, we headed back outside where I found the wagon waiting. There were two very strange lumps covered with a tarp in the back of the cart.

  “Shopping?” I asked Lord Cabell.

  “It’s a surprise. I’ll show you when we get back.”

  We slipped into the wagon and headed back toward the house. Lord Cabell, who was about three tankards too deep, chatted all the while. He pointed out every spot in the landscape, told me about his grandmother, asked me about Harper’s family again—which made me decidedly uneasy—and left me with the impression that he had not yet decided how he was planning to approach Agent Harper on the subject of his sudden crush.

  When we arrived at Cabell Manor, Lord Cabell instructed the driver to pull the wagon around to the garden in the back. I slipped out of the wagon while Lord Cabell climbed into the back.

  “Well, Agent Louvel. Let’s see what you think of these,” he said, untying the tarp to reveal…sculptures.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  The wagon driver climbed into the back, and together, the two men wrestled the first of the heavy metal sculptures to the ground. Lord Cabell stood back, his hands on his hips, and looked down at the creation.

  “That, Agent Louvel, is a gargoyle. A clockwork gargoyle,” he said then bent to tinker with the machine.

  I stared at the mechanism. He was right. It was a beast made of clockwork with wings like a bat and the face of a gargoyle just like those sitting all along the rooftop of Cabell Manor.

  Lord Cabell labored on a panel underneath the first creature, and a moment later, its eyes flashed blue. The mech turned its head, flapped its metal wings, and stretched its limbs. I heard the sound of the clockwork mechanisms turning, almost like the tick of a clock, as the creation sprang to life.

  “It’s a security feature. I need to place some sensors around the garden then it will patrol the grounds for us, alerting us of any intruders. It’s equipped with a sound box, ethics boards, an aether core, Hawking optics, all the best.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “I bought two,” he said, slipping back into the wagon.

  “Then I’m doubly impressed,” I said, kneeling down to look at the amazing creation.

  “Impressed with what, Agent?” a voice asked from behind me.

  Lady Charlotte.

  “My clockwork gargoyles,” Lord Cabell said as he and the wagon driver lowered the second clockwork creature.

  “God, how garish. They’re perfect,” Lady Charlotte said with a laugh. “What do they do?”

  “They’re security. They’ll patrol the garden.”

  “You must ensure they can be seen during the ball. That will give people a fright. How horrifying they are. I love them.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Lady Charlotte. She might not have been a bad match for Edwin after all. Though I suspected having to scrub Phillip Phillips from her knickers was probably beyond her limit of tolerance.

  Lord Cabell tugged on a large wooden crate, pulling it down from the back of the wagon. “I need to configure them a bit. Right now, they are on standby. The man explained what to do. I’ll need to set them so they don’t start shrieking at the sight of the gardeners. They’ve been tinkered to respond to a password.”

  “Pray tell, what is it?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  Lord Cabell chuckled. “Heel. Sorry, not very creative, I know. They will respond to a variety of commands. Once I have them up and running, I’ll go over all the commands with you.”

  “I love them. Thank you, Edison.”

  “Of course. No doubt Agent Louvel and Agent Harper will have the matter here settled in no time, but considering something tried to kill me last night, the idea of extra security was very appealing.”

  Lady Charlotte glanced at me. “Indeed. My brother tells me you put yourself between him and whatever was prowling around the garden. Very brave, Agent. I was…pleased to hear.”

  And surprised, by her tone.

  “That’s my job. Speaking of which, I should see how Agent Harper is coming along.”

  “She’s in the small library.”

  Of course she’s in the small library.

  “Thank you,” I told Lady Charlotte then turned to Lord Cabell. “Thank you for letting me ride along with you.”

  “My pleasure,” he said with a wave. A screwdriver in hand, he bent to look at the gargoyle once more, completely distracted by his new toy. To my surprise, Lady Charlotte also bent to have a closer look.

  Leaving the two alone to play with mechanical monsters, I headed inside. Harper and I had monsters of our own to chase. I slipped the packet the apothecary had given me out of my vest pocket. If Harper and I were going to be hunting monsters on the fen, while being reverent, something told me that Harper was going to need this.

  Chapter 18: Reading Between the Lines

  “Reverent?” Harper asked then paused to polish off the last of the medicinal tonic. “That’s… I’m confused. Are you sure that’s what she said?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “What—or who the hell—is out there?” Harper asked then picked up her cup and examined it. There was sandy sediment at the bottom. “You’re sure she seemed all right? I mean, for all we know, she could have given you poison.”

  “Well, you’ve drunk it now, so I guess we’ll see.”

  “Very funny,” Harper said then picked up her teacup, which she had loaded with sugar, to wash down the medicine.

  “She was a hearth witch. A white witch. My eye told me she was fine.”

  “Well—and no offense to your eye—but I hope you’re right. God. Never, ever let me drink wine again.”

  I chuckled. “It happens to the best of us.”

  “So you said. Do I have a vague recollection of you mentioning something about a brawny Scottish tapster? Did this happen to you in Edinburgh?”

  “What? No. Of course not. That’s not what I said. I was airsick in Scotland,” I said with a wink. “Now, what have you uncovered?”

  “I see you’re changing the subject. Clem, that woman you met on the fen, the one who told you to come back tonight—was she… What was she?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest. She wasn’t a werewolf. And she was definitely a magic user of some kind. But… Well, I don’t know.”

  “But what?”

  “Well, I know you don’t trust my all-seeing evil eye, but when I looked at her, she looked like…water.”

  “A spirit?”

  I shook my head. “They look like shadows.”

  Harper frowned. “Water.”

  I shrugged.

  “Okay, well, I don’t know what she is, but Lord Samson’s musings about some wandering ruffians got me curious. The library didn’t store back copies of the local newspaper, but to our luck, the servants store the newspapers to use for packing or tidying up. I spent an hour in a dusty room with Missus Carroll, who is very talkative, by the way, and I came up with these,” she said, handing me a pile of clippings.

  I flipped through the papers. There was a public warning about some vagrants being spotted in the
country, an article on a scuffle in which a local constable was severely wounded, and another article about a robbery that took place on the road between the Samson and Cabell estates. There was nothing supernatural mentioned in the reports, but still. The behavior smacked of a werewolf pack.

  “And, Missus Carroll, who had no respect for my headache as she chatted on, also let slip that the vagabonds mentioned in the article were seen lingering around Cabell Manor. Once, or so she told me, they came to the house begging alms.”

  “Missus Carroll spoke to them?”

  Harper shook her head. “She didn’t, but Lady Charlotte did.”

  “Wait, didn’t Lady Charlotte say that the vagrants hadn’t been seen here?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Why lie?”

  Harper shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t want to worry Lord Cabell. Missus Carroll said Lord Cabell was away at the time.”

  I frowned.

  “And what about you? Discover anything besides white witches?”

  “Indeed, I did. A couple of interesting things, actually. First, Lord Cabell and Miss Charlotte were both born with six fingers.”

  Harper turned to me. “No way.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “That’s plenty.”

  “And second, Lord Cabell asked me if you’re attached to anyone.”

  At that, Harper’s peaches and cream cheeks faded to alabaster white. “He what?”

  “You heard me.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That I wasn’t sure.”

  “Clemeny!”

  “Well, I’m not sure. There is Agent Quartermain—”

  “No. Alan and I,” Harper began then paused. “Agent Quartermain has found someone else abroad,” she said, her voice catching at the end. “So, no.”

  “Oh, Harper. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s all right. It’s to be expected.”

  “I’ll be sure to let Lord Cabell know the path is clear.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “Won’t I?”

  “No. Please, no.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “He’s a Lord. And his sister is…well, I don’t think she’d approve of someone like me. I don’t want to deal with that.”