Of Tinkers and Technomancers

by Katherine McIntyre

  Theo stepped out of another alley and onto a bustling street. At the end, another crossroads stood out with more city signs and the steady stream of autocarts and workers traveling along the shorn roads. She unfolded the map, staring at the point Silas had marked. They were getting closer by the minute, yet she doubted explaining the situation would grant them a kind reception. “Are you more comfortable with stealth or deception?” she asked, glancing at him.

  Silas snorted. “I’m a street rat who hobnobs with the wealthy now. What do you think I’m proficient in?” His gaze darkened a slight bit, enough for her to notice. The side of him emerging created a sharp difference from the public view of Silas Kylock she’d encountered, a man who oozed arrogance with every step. The tinker always pushed her buttons like no one else, but the camaraderie she’d felt for Silas as teenagers had been deep and true.

  “You’re not wearing your normal dandy attire, but you still cut a figure,” Theo said begrudgingly. “If you think you can approach as a prospective buyer, I’ll sneak around back and try to filch the clockwork maid.”

  “What is this planning balderdash?” he said, a smile playing on his face. “I thought, with you involved, we’d be marching in and drawing iron.”

  Theo shot him a glare when they reached the crossroads and took a left turn onto another main street. “My sister’s life might be at stake. I’m not going to place her at risk.” She avoided him for this reason as well. Even as the burn of irritation descended, she couldn’t help lingering on the teasing glint in his wicked eyes or the charming grin she’d heard brought far too many women to his bed.

  In the distance, the last gasps of the late afternoon sun glimmered across the surface of the Regent’s Canal, where small waves rippled with the breeze. Boats floated along, carrying goods to and fro. Storefronts clustered close together, featuring an array of pubs with shuttered windows and a banker’s office. An apothecary lay at the end of the row with myriad concoctions displayed in glass cases.

  According to the map, the clockwork maid was on this sector of the street. Theo lifted a hand over her eyes and peered down the road, searching for any glimpse of her sister. Strangers’ faces stared at her, and nowhere did she see a woman of Ellie’s height with a shock of untamed black curls or an ever-cocky smirk upon her lips.

  Silas stepped past her, his brow furrowed. “Taylor & Smith acquires rare parts around town. Our rivals, the Stanburys, frequent them often, and given their name and the old money they come from, they also tend to get parts preference. Want to bet a shilling the clockwork maid’s tucked safely away with them?”

  “Well then,” Theo said, “if you’re in constant contact with these blokes, do you think we can discard both stealth and deception?” Her heartbeat sped in her chest while she failed to quash the hope they’d walk in to see Ellie’s smiling face, on the off chance her sister had stuck around to flirt with the storekeep.

  Silas offered an arm. “My dear, I’d be happy to oblige.” He flashed her the full measure of his charm, the effect causing her to temporarily forget the constant barbs they swapped.

  Even in a rundown pair of trousers and button-up, he couldn’t conceal those broad shoulders and corded forearms. Theo slipped her arm through his, determination riding her. After she found Ellie, she and her sister would be having a serious talk about her bug hunting.

  The sign for Taylor & Smith brimmed formidably with hand-painted gilt lettering, and candelabras made of burnished bronze were visible from the front windows. Despite the dim lights emanating from inside, the big brass knob on the door and daunting frame discouraged the casual pedestrian. Her fingers itched when she placed her hand on the knob, as if her magic called to all the tech dwelling inside the place.

  She stepped inside first, the scents of copper, tin and bronze static in the stale air. A man sat behind a large mahogany desk, his aether lamp glowing green against the documents he penned. The light glinted off the man’s round glasses, accentuating the wiry curls of his gray hair.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Taylor,” Silas announced beside her, drawing his attention.

  Taylor looked at Silas, but his gaze swung to Theo at once. As he scanned her, her stomach tightened with unease. This didn’t look like the sort of place her sister would frequent, or even one she’d associate with. The store featured four other desks situated around the room, with seats on both sides to accommodate meetings with clients. Even with the more transactional setting, the oil landscape paintings along the wall preached elegance, as did the plush velvet settee and ottoman resting in the far-right corner.

  “Are you here to inquire about parts?” Mr. Taylor stood from his seat with a creak while he focused his attention on Silas once more.

  “One in particular,” he responded.

  Even though Silas barely shifted, with the way he stood so close, she noticed his fingers brush against the knives he hid. Theo rested a hand on her Derringer. She couldn’t determine if it was the absolute silence percolating through the room as Mr. Taylor watched Silas or the sharpness in the man’s gray eyes, but she didn’t trust him to hand over her sister and the clockwork maid just because she asked.

  Taylor settled one hand onto the desk, and the movement of his spindly fingers drew her attention. With the other, he reached for his drawer.

  Theo didn’t wait. She drew her pistol on the spot. “Put your hands where we can see them, sir,” she called out. “We don’t want trouble, but we also won’t leave without retrieving what was stolen.”

  “You don’t want this business shut down for fencing stolen goods, do you?” Silas echoed the sentiment, the threat in his words quite clear. He held something mechanical in his fist, an object she hadn’t seen before—guaranteed, one of his devices.

  Mr. Taylor glowered at them but lifted his hands in compliance. “You don’t know what troubles you’re getting yourself into, Kylock. Just report her missing and claim the insurance money.”

  “How unfortunate I can’t do the same for my sister,” Theo said, her tone dangerously calm. Her finger rested on the trigger of her gun, which was modified with enhancements on the end to amplify the distance and velocity of the projectile.

  “Tell us where you last saw Ellie Whitfield and the clockwork maid,” Silas said, dangling a circular brass ball from the chain around his fingertip. “This doesn’t have to get ugly, and if you work with us, I might be able to keep my father from withdrawing our business from yours.” He remained calm, his voice dripping with familiar arrogance.

  Taylor glanced between them, his hands lifted, and yet he didn’t shout in fear or even try to debate. Instead, he remained stone-faced. That pricked her senses to alertness more than anything else. When a man had a weapon pointed at his head, rarely did he remain calm unless he’d faced a muzzle before or because he was keeping a trick up his sleeve.

  Mr. Taylor glanced behind them. Theo didn’t waste a second.

  She whirled toward the door in time to watch it open again. A rough man stepped inside with his pistol lifted in preparation as three more men followed behind. The bastard must’ve pressed an alert inside his desk.

  “What your old man doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Mr. Taylor called out to Silas, who let out a low curse.

  Silas’ hand clamped onto her shoulder. “Do as I say,” he whispered in her ear.

  A moment later, the brass ball he’d palmed flew through the air, free from its chain. It sailed in the direction of the newcomers.

  “Run.” Silas pushed her forward.

  Theo didn’t need the prompting. Together, they bolted for the opposite side of the room, toward the door on the back wall. Her boots scuffed the carpet and her heart pounded in her ears, but she surged ahead with every ounce of energy in her. Silas nearly tackled her to the ground.

  A second later, the tiny brass ball exploded.

  Heat gusted through the shop in a fierce sweep, a shrill sound pierced the air and the tinkle of shattered glass followed as the windows exploded. Everyth
ing caught in the radius went up in the greenish fire of an aether bomb, including all three newcomers. Mr. Taylor ducked behind his desk, which had gotten scorched from the peripheral damage.

  Silas crushed her, his body shielding her entirely from the blast. His heavy breaths tickled her ear and his arms braced around her on either side. Adrenaline shot through her veins and her heart sped all the faster in the wake of the explosion. Within a moment, Silas rolled off her and was on his feet, dusting his trousers. Theo hopped up without help and brushed herself down, a slight flush rising to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat from the blast.

  He hadn’t even blinked twice before jumping in to keep her safe. Theo had grown so used to caring for her sister and mother she’d almost forgotten the relief of having someone else watch her back.

  She spotted Mr. Taylor trying to creep his way past them to the back door.

  Her Derringer was out and aimed before he took another step.

  “I think it’s time you give us some answers.”

  Chapter Four

  Lobbing an aether bomb in the front of Taylor & Smith’s might not rank at the top of Silas’ best decisions. In fact, he could guarantee, that once the mutton shunters came to sort this out, he and Theo needed to be as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. Fragments of glass covered the polished hardwood, now marred by the effects of the bomb, and the three men who’d been upright and drawing iron now lay charred on the ground.

  Theo kept her pistol aimed at Mr. Taylor’s head, and for the first time since she’d met the arrogant prick, the man was sweating.

  “Answers, now,” she said, her voice as steely as the pistol she wielded. He couldn’t blame the man for shaking in his boots—the dark glint in her eyes promised she wouldn’t be merciful. “Where are Ellie Whitfield and the clockwork maid?”

  “We haven’t seen the woman since she delivered the automaton last night. The crate is still in the warehouse up the road since we had buyers lined up for tomorrow morning.” Mr. Taylor spoke through gritted teeth, but he didn’t look away now. With no avenues of escape, the man opened his closed doors for the world to see. Silas made a mental note to recommend Kylock Industries find a new purveyor of parts.

  “Do you know where she went?” Theo insisted, her tone remaining firm despite the hint of fear shining in her eyes. When they found Ellie Whitfield, Silas had half a mind to wring her throat for worrying Theo so much.

  Mr. Taylor shook his head, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. “She made the swap for the payment and buggered off. We obtained the goods, so we didn’t inquire.”

  “Bloody hell,” Theo swore, slamming her boot down on the hardwood.

  Gasps and screams from outside the store drew Silas’ attention. The hullaballoo would draw prying eyes, then the coppers. They needed to get to the warehouse up the road post-haste.

  He placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “We’ve got to find the clockwork maid before we end up in the clanker.” He cast a glance at Mr. Taylor. “As for the buyers tomorrow—you’ve just been robbed, as is clear by the broken window. You can at least recoup your losses by reporting the break-in to your insurance company.”

  Theo bit her lip, but slipped the Derringer into her holster. Silas cast a backward glance at the billowing smoke and the shattered affair of the front of the store before he led the way to the exit he’d walked through on occasion with his father. Their pace quickened to a flat run before they reached the back door. Not for the first time on this expedition, he was grateful to be wearing sensible trousers rather than the attire he donned on business visits.

  Theo’s eyes met his in a quick flash as she and Silas bolted across the hardwood together. For the first time since they’d left Islington proper, she looked at him with something like respect again, not the disgust she usually harbored.

  “I wouldn’t give up on Ellie yet,” he said when he placed his hand on the door. “She might have left some sort of sign in the warehouse.”

  Theo gripped the doorknob tight before glancing at him again. “She always comes home. Always.”

  “Then we’ll make sure that’s where she returns,” he said, a confidence in his voice he didn’t feel.

  Truth be told, the longer a person went missing, the higher the chance they’d be found floating along the Thames or dead in an alleyway. He didn’t hold on to hope often, preferring a more logical course. Yet when Theo fixed those doe eyes filled with genuine worry on him, he couldn’t help the lies slipping past his lips.

  She nodded before opening the door and clattering down the steps into the alley behind Taylor & Smith. The tang of scrap metal filtered through in this area, muddling with the stagnant pools of water growing algae in the uneven patches of cobblestone.

  “Where’s this warehouse of his?” she asked as she stepped to the edge of the alley, peering to the left. He joined Theo, a whisper away from the delicious scent of iron and lilies lingering around her.

  “Just up the street. We can dodge these crowds.” And indeed, crowds gathered, unafraid of the billowing smoke that trailed out from the ruined front of Taylor & Smith. The throngs of people were even visible from this end of the street, and the chatter filtered over to them. “The sooner we’re away from this mad as hops crowd, the quicker we can retrieve what we came for.”

  “Once we’ve retrieved your quarry, you won’t be my problem anymore either,” she said, flashing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Without another word, she dipped past the cover of the alley to the right and began strolling in the direction of the warehouse.

  Silas didn’t bother to correct her. While the time with her hadn’t been filled with nearly as much sniping as he’d expected, his main job remained retrieving the clockwork maid and more importantly the diamond core. Yet if they reached the clockwork maid and still hadn’t found a sign of her sister, he wasn’t sure if he could walk away. Therein lay the crux of the problem, as Kylock Sr. would without question find a way to punish him given any further association with the Whitfield girls.

  Silas and Theo made another right turn onto a different street and away from the crowds, smoke and chaos by Taylor & Smith, and his shoulders sagged in relief. While the adrenaline would linger until they’d reached the warehouse, the more distance they put between them and the scene of the crime, the better. The rotten-fish stench of Camden Town’s streets rolled his way in one nauseating sweep.

  “Care to explain what manner of instrument you employed back there?” Theo lifted an eyebrow, curiosity gleaming in her dark eyes. Of course, the technomancer would be curious about new gadgets. Her mind worked in tandem with his own. Where he created, she repaired, but the both had a fascination with the ‘how’ of the steam and aether technology they worked with.

  “A tweak off the gas bombs, utilizing aether instead. I found myself rather curious one day and decided to indulge.” Silas pinched the edges of his collar, a faint remnant of smoke lingering in the fabric of his shirt due to the explosion.

  Theo shook her head, a hint of a smile on those pert lips. “I imagine the sheer number of automatons and prototypes contained in Kylock Industries would keep me busy for a century,” she murmured, giving him a look. “I’m now regretting how open-ended I left the favor I owe you.”

  A slow smile rolled to his lips. Even though she’d insisted the favor be professional, his mind couldn’t help but wander to all the things he’d rather do with her than work. Those long legs wrapped around his hips and her soft mouth on his were a start. Spending all this time with her had done terrible things to him—even if he took another woman to bed, Theo Whitfield would long be on his mind.

  The warehouse rose at the end of the street, a couple of amber lights peering out from the night-darkened frame. Somehow, on the stroll over, night had infiltrated, the shadows crawling until they overtook the city. The waning moon cast subtle silvery beams across the edges of the building, but the feeble light didn’t compare to the gas lamps lining the streets. T
he nimbuses inside them flickered orange and gold beams to the ground, accentuating the sharp shadows cast onto the gray cobblestones as they walked by.

  Silas slowed upon approach while Theo stayed a step or two behind him to scan the streets around them. He admired her instincts—the woman always analyzed her surroundings. The doorknob was locked, upon examination, and even though he tried rattling it a few times, it didn’t respond. On top of the lock sat a mechanical security system with a dial to spin in a number code.

  Theo’s eyes danced while she approached the lock and reached out with the hand adorned by the conductive ring. Silas watched, anxious to see her at work again. Technomancy was a different art form from tinkering, and he appreciated getting to see someone with as much artistry as her work on the machines.

  As she reached out, the dial began to spin with a slow click-click-click that increased to a crescendo. Those wisps of steam rose in the air, beginning to gather like clouds as she used her magic. The dial would stop and a tumbler would click then it would turn again, repeating the process. He listened close, the faint sound of the mechanism in the door turning while the gears in place cranked.

  Theo opened her eyes and pulled her hand from the padlock. “It’s open,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  Silas reached forward and tugged the knob, the door opening with nary a creak. Inside, a few spotlights illuminated the warehouse, the scent of pine and must wafting his way upon entry. Crates collected in the center of the room as well as lining the shelving across the length of the warehouse.

  The sheer number of boxes that lay inside was dizzying. Silas wanted to ask Theo to tap into her technomancy again and see if she could narrow their search in the slightest, but she’d used her abilities quite a few times today. He didn’t want to overtax her. On top of that, he possessed some personal pride in being able to handle situations without relying on magic.