by M J Moores
Louisa didn’t see Collingworth’s engine. Bug was gone and the barrow lay on its side. She scrambled to the edge of the berth and watched as the little thief tried to haul himself onto the small barge, knocking the engine off-kilter with his holstered flame launcher.
“No!” she cried and leaped onto the boat, but both she and the cutting-edge piece of technology crashed into the Thames.
Sludge water poured down her throat. She thrashed back to the surface. Piercing whistles and angry voices sent shivers of fear through her body—or maybe it was the frigid water.
She held back a fit of coughing and allowed the current to pull her downriver. The police had finally arrived. They’d take care of Scythe and Bug. Collingworth might even be able to salvage his device from the bottom of the river … all was not lost.
A shadow hunched low over the cobbled riverside at the next launch. Louisa held her breath and willed herself to disappear. She kept her upper body still and floated with just her face breaching the water.
“Psst … Phoenix. Phoenix, are you there?” A hand reached out toward empty air.
Louisa held her breath longer, her lungs burning. As much as she wanted out of the cold river, Morrie couldn’t risk being seen with her. They each had their role to play and he was breaking the rules.
She managed to haul herself out of the water and drag her reeking carcass back home, but Louisa daren’t parade through the house in sopping wet and gungy clothes. Miss. Margaret would ask questions, and Louisa wanted to be able to sleep in the next day.
So, she scaled the lane wall and dropped onto the paved backyard of her tenement, stripping down to her undergarments. Louisa left her clothes in a pile by the back and gingerly carried her work apron and mask through the dark house to her room.
Monday, Bloody Monday
T wo days later, Louisa rinsed her hair in lemon water for the fourth time then wrung it mostly dry and plaited it back for work. As she carefully applied her face cream and powder, a soft shuffle settled near her room in the hall. She touched up the last traces of the bruise around her eye before opening the door. At her feet lay the newspaper and a letter. She checked her pocket watch, then straightened her under-bust corset over crisp ironed trousers. The soft fabric of her new, pale pink chemise billowed down to tightly buttoned cuffs.
“Blast. I’ve gone and missed breakfast.”
Louisa collected the items and closed the door. She set the morning’s paper on her desk and looked at the envelope. Her heart clenched tight as she read her name—her real name.
Mis.s Louanna T. Pierce
c/o Miss. L. Wicker
Applewood Apartments
7 Chip Street, Clapham
She glanced at the return address: St Mary Bethelhem, St George’s Fields, Southwark. A surge of anger ignited every nerve, forcing heat into her pale cheeks.
“The dead have no voice,” she said and chucked the unopened envelope into the trash beside the desk.
Louisa thumped down onto the wooden chair and shook out the newspaper with a snap. She needed a pick-me-up. But her heart faltered. She gasped and went from hot to cold in seconds.
THE LONDON CHRONICLE
From Thursday, October 5, to Sunday, October 8, 1876
ENGINEERING DISASTER
By Morrison Tweed
Up-and-coming inventor Henry Collingworth, member of the London Society of Engineers, faces a harrowing upset at a second break-in to his warehouse within a week. The constabulary confirms the attempted illicit removal and return of the finalized Collingworth Racing Engine. The prototype for this new steam engine has yet to be recovered, but Collingworth’s patent protects the advanced technology.
Three suspicious individuals were spotted on the evening of October 4 near the South Lambeth public berths and one outside Collingworth’s warehouse. Of the three mobile interlopers, two were confirmed as potential suspects from the earlier heist and the third assumed to be Shadow Phoenix.
Inspector Hersh with the Lambeth Station House says that both the constables on duty and the thief captured near the warehouse described a black-clad female wearing a mask and leather tool belt, wielding lightning spheres. As such, he cautions civilians against harboring anyone claiming to be Shadow Phoenix. One constable witnessed the black-clad female jump onto a small barge moored to a public berth, along with an Asian woman in red leathers and a dwarf.
The fourth thief remains in critical condition in hospital with third-degree burns over his face and hands. It is estimated that he will not recover his sight. A large, black, oblong scorch mark etches the ground by Collingworth’s warehouse, marking the spot where the thief fell. When asked if it matched Shadow Phoenix’s signature, Inspector Hersh declined comment.
Collingworth was set to debut the new racing engine at the end of the week, but after recovering it from the bottom of the Thames, he is uncertain whether he will be able to meet this deadline. This places his rival, Franklin Gunnings, at a strong advantage for Crown support.
Be sure to attend the Sky Port Race-off this Friday, October 13, to find out for yourself.
Three wanted posters fell immediately below the article. Two bore Louisa’s sketches of Scythe and Bug, finally justified; but the third held an unfamiliar sketch of a masked woman with long, wild, curly hair, typeset with the name “Shadow Phoenix.”
She was no guardian … she was just like them now. Louisa should have known better than to trust a sociopath or a reporter.
Episode IV: Mettle & Bone
COMING OCTOBER 18th, 2019
Thank you for reading the third episode of
SHADOW PHOENIX
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Other Books by MJ Moores
The CHRONICLES of XANNIA
Time’s Tempest
Cadence of Consequences
Rebels Rein
Forgotten Fallacy
FLAWED ATTRACTION ROMANCES
Final Year
SHADOW PHOENIX VOL I
Answering the Call
Syndicatus Evolutio