Clockwork Alchemist (The Thief's Apprentice Book 1)

by Sara C. Roethle

  The first items he’d gathered were small smoke bombs, composed of liquid within tiny glass capsules. Once the glass was broken and the liquid was exposed to the air, they would form clouds of smoke. They were relatively harmless, but could provide cover should he and Liliana need to escape unseen. In addition to the smoke bombs, he had packed little capsules of ink. If they encountered any more of their masked friends, he would do his best to stain their masks. This way, he would be able to tell if there was only one mask passed between associates working closely together, or countless masks, worn by a larger network. In addition to the capsules, he had various knives concealed about his person.

  They walked down the narrow streets away from his apartment side-by-side. The clouds that had begun to form earlier had multiplied, and the scent of rain was thick in the air, though moisture was yet to fall. He glanced at Liliana as they walked, but she paid little attention to him, likely unaware that he had withheld information from her. Not only would he not tell her about the meeting planned for that night, but he would not tell her what he had learned thus far about Victor Ashdown.

  After speaking with Willy, he had visited several apothecaries, hoping to gain further information. Though apothecaries tended to focus on medicine, they were still alchemists of a sort, and alchemists often tended to study each other's materials. Not only had one of the apothecaries known who Victor Ashdown was, she claimed to be his daughter. She had also claimed that her father had been missing for many months, and she had taken over his apothecary in his absence. Still, she had refused to divulge her father's home address, and that was where Willy came in. Even if Victor Ashdown was missing, much could likely be learned from investigating his estate.

  Arhyen tensed slightly at the feeling of eyes on his back. He continued walking casually, but glanced over his shoulder just as they took another turn. He could see no one watching them. In fact, he saw no one at all except a vagrant in ratty clothing that appeared to be asleep, his back pressed against the side of a building. On the new street, they passed by a few young street urchins and other vagrants, but none paid them any mind, except to occasionally ask for coin. He was about to pass his original feelings off as paranoia, when someone suddenly appeared at his side.

  Liliana let out a little yip of surprise and halted, then seemed to calm herself when she realized it was only Ephraim. Ephraim continued walking, expecting them to fall in stride.

  Arhyen took Liliana by the arm, then hurried to catch up to Ephraim’s side. Ephraim’s short, blond hair blowing back from his face with the ozone scented wind was the only part of his face that moved. His eyes and expression remained impassive, giving nothing away. He stopped briefly to straighten the lapels of his long frock coat, then continued walking.

  Arhyen remained silent, waiting for the man to speak. He knew this was no social call. Ephraim only sought him out when he either had information to offer, or was looking for information himself.

  “A body was found this morning,” Ephraim explained suddenly, his eyes still watching the street ahead of them. “It is believed the man died the night before last. Do you know anything about that?”

  Arhyen scoffed as he readjusted his bowler cap on his head. “Why on earth would I know anything about that?”

  Ephraim smiled coldly. “Well, upon the dead man's person, we found a note. The note read, I was killed by Arhyen Croft.”

  Liliana gasped and stopped walking, but Arhyen, his arm still linked with hers, quickly pulled her forward again. “Is this some sort of terrible joke?” he questioned, feigning complete ignorance.

  Ephraim smirked. “Not at all. That is truly the note that was found, though I don't quite believe the dead man took the time to write a note to point the Watch in the right direction.”

  “Well I didn't put it there,” Arhyen quipped.

  Ephraim glanced at him with a stern expression, then continued walking. “Nor was that my suspicion,” he replied. “But you understand why I must discuss it with you.”

  “Of course,” Arhyen replied crankily. “And I imagine the Watch will be wanting to discuss it with me as well.”

  Ephraim was silent as they reached a crossroad, and a gaggle of giggling ladies passed by, leaving a cloud of perfume behind. “You catch on quickly,” he stated once the women were out of earshot. “It would not be wise to return to your apartment any time soon.”

  Arhyen waved him off. “None of them know where I live.”

  They crossed the wide street and continued down another alley.

  “I would not be so sure of that,” Ephraim countered. “It seems some higher members of the Watch have taken an interest in you as of late.”

  Arhyen's heart sped up. Though he had caught the attention of the Watch on occasion, he had never merited a true investigation. Why would they suddenly be watching him now?

  “Someone found and reported Fairfax Breckenridge’s body,” Ephraim explained. “He was murdered, and there are many interesting theories as to why. Word is, you are somehow involved.”

  “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re asking,” Arhyen sniped.

  Ephraim shook his head slightly. “No, but I suspect you know why he was killed.”

  Arhyen was about to say he hadn’t a clue, which wasn’t entirely a lie, when Ephraim stopped walking. Arhyen stopped a heartbeat later. Something was wrong.

  “It seems we have company,” Ephraim commented calmly.

  They had been approaching another cross section in the alleyway. Now that they’d stopped, five men stepped into view, previously hidden by a nearby building.

  “Friends of yours?” Ephraim asked.

  Arhyen shook his head. He recognized a few of the men. They worked for Clayton Blackwood. Their association was further evidenced by the white strip of fabric tied around their left upper arms, over their various coats. Arm bands were used to distinguish many gangs within the slums, but the wealthy elite were no different. Everyone needed a way to tell thugs apart, else you ended up killing the wrong people.

  Keeping his eye on the men, Arhyen pushed Liliana behind him. “If things get ugly,” he muttered, “run.”

  Ephraim bared his teeth into a smile. “Does that go for me as well?”

  Arhyen snorted and checked the daggers concealed at each of his wrists. “I didn’t think that Ephraim Godwin ran from anything.”

  “He doesn’t,” Ephraim replied, just as the men charged.

  Arhyen drew a dagger from his coat, and Ephraim drew a pistol. Arhyen had seen the weapon before, and knew that it only offered one shot before a tedious reloading session, but one shot was better than none. Ephraim fired into the nearest thug’s leg and the man went down, making the fight four to two. Arhyen liked those odds, especially with Ephraim by his side, but it was distracting worrying about Liliana at the same time.

  Leaving their wounded comrade behind, the other four men pulled blades and charged. The fact that they had knives and not pistols meant they were just there to rattle Arhyen up, and maybe leave him bruised and bloody in the gutter. Handguns were difficult to obtain if you weren’t a member of the Watch, but he knew if anyone could obtain pistols for their men, it was Clayton Blackwood.

  Arhyen dodged the first attack as Ephraim sent a man sailing through the air to land in a heap two yards away. Liliana screamed.

  He narrowly missed another man's fist as it swung toward his face, turning at the last second to see several more thugs had crept up behind them, all with white strips of fabric around their arms. One man had wrapped his forearm around Liliana’s chest from behind, and was attempting to drag her away. She struggled against him, putting up much more of a fight than any would have guessed from such a small woman. Arhyen was unsure how he moved as quickly as he did, but the next thing he knew he was swinging his fist into the jaw of the man who held Liliana captive. As the man's grip loosened, Arhyen grabbed Liliana by the wrist and tugged her toward him to hold her against his chest.

  Ephraim took down ano
ther man, knocking him out cold, then rushed to Arhyen’s side as the remaining men circled them. “There are too many of them,” he commented.

  “No need to be negative,” Arhyen replied, still holding Liliana close. There were too many of them. Normally he would try to go down fighting, but he shuddered to think what would happen to Liliana if Clayton got his hands on her.

  Arhyen was about to advise they make a run for it, when a whistle blew from somewhere behind them. He had never been so glad to hear the telltale tone that announced the Watch’s approach. Several of the thugs glanced around nervously, then a handful of uniformed officers approached from a side alley near where Arhyen, Ephraim, and Liliana stood.

  The man who'd taken hold of Liliana met Arhyen’s gaze. “You have until midnight tonight to bring both the formulae and the girl to our boss.” With that, the thugs turned and ran.

  Ephraim rolled his eyes at Arhyen as the men dispersed. “You could have told me you’d gotten yourself involved with Clayton Blackwood,” he whispered. “How am I going to explain this to my superiors?”

  Arhyen didn’t have a chance to answer as the officers who’d saved them approached. Ephraim moved to meet them, speaking to them in hushed tones that effectively left Arhyen and Liliana out of the conversation. Ephraim purposefully guided the men a little farther away. Arhyen’s gaze trailed after them, hoping his long-time associate would be able to smooth things over. As an upper level detective, the officers would all defer to Ephraim’s judgement . . . hopefully, but he’d still have to explain the situation back at headquarters. People talked, even members of the Watch. Ephraim couldn’t let an altercation with a known criminal’s men go unreported.

  Realizing he still had an arm wrapped around Liliana, he jerked slightly, then released her.

  She looked up at him with worried eyes. “Who is Clayton Blackwood? Why does he want me?” she whispered.

  He frowned. Why, indeed. “He’s the man who hired me to retrieve your father’s journal,” he explained, leaning close to her ear to avoid being overheard by the officers still conversing with Ephraim a short distance away. “You were not part of that bargain,” he continued. “He must have recently been made aware of your existence.”

  “Is he the man trying to frame you?” she whispered.

  He sputtered for a moment. “How do you know about framing people?”

  She frowned. “I’ve read numerous mystery novels. A dead man with a note in his pocket pointing to his alleged killer seems like an idea straight from one of those books.”

  He nodded. “It does indeed, but I do not believe Clayton is the one trying to frame me, if that is really what’s going on. He would gain nothing from my arrest, especially when he could easily just have me killed.”

  “Then who?” she whispered.

  Arhyen shook his head. He wished he knew. The first obvious conclusion was the masked man, but why would he lead him on a search for Victor Ashdown if he simply wanted him out of the way? And why would he then invite Arhyen to a meeting that night, if he would be arrested before he could make it? Nothing was fitting together. Either the masked man was entirely mad, or there were other players in the situation of whom Arhyen was yet to be made aware of.

  Ephraim parted ways with the officers, then approached Arhyen and Liliana with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to have to arrest you now,” he stated.

  Arhyen balked. “I have no time to get arrested. I’ve too many mysteries to uncover.”

  Ephraim made a hmph sound. “Be that as it may, my colleagues have recognized you.” He glanced back at the uniformed men, still waiting where he’d left them. “You’ll have to come in for questioning. I cannot risk my reputation by letting you go.”

  Arhyen clenched his jaw in irritation, but knew he had no choice. If he ran, it would only make him look guilty to the waiting officers. If he cooperated and went in for questioning, Ephraim could likely have him back on the streets within a few hours.

  His shoulders slumped. “It’s too dangerous to leave Liliana on her own,” he muttered in defeat.

  Ephraim nodded, then offered Liliana a small smile. It wasn’t exactly warm, but from Ephraim, the smile was more than most would ever get. “We’ll take her with us. She should be safe enough at the station. Blackwood’s men would not dare try to claim her amidst an entourage of officers.”

  Arhyen sighed in relief. Chances were, he’d end up dead within the next day or so, and Liliana would find herself in the clutches of the masked man, or Clayton Blackwood, but at least neither thing would be happening within the next few hours. Times were exceedingly dire when being questioned by the Watch for murder could be seen as a blessing.

  Chapter 9

  Arhyen leaned his elbows on the rickety table of the interrogation room, supporting his chin with his handcuffed hands as he repeated his story for the millionth time. He had no idea who the dead man was. He had no idea why there had been a note in the dead man’s pocket incriminating him. They’d even questioned why he had been out of town, which meant they’d done some digging. The only explanation he could think of was that he’d gone to escort his friend, Liliana, back to London. That way, if they tried to question her too, their stories would hopefully match up. He could only keep his mouth shut and hope she wouldn’t admit that he was a thief, and she was a thief in training, to any of the officers.

  He had no idea if she’d be questioned at all, and in fact, hadn’t seen her since they’d arrived at the station, though Ephraim, standing near the closed door, had assured him she would be safe. He also held all of Arhyen’s weapons, and his satchel with the new journal and other possessions had been left with Liliana.

  The officer questioning him leaned forward across the table, his paunchy, sweaty face scrunched up in frustration. His tobacco tinged breath assaulted Arhyen’s nose as the officer asked once again, “If you have no connection to the man we found dead in an alley, not far from where you were spotted at a local cafe, then why was your name in his pocket?”

  Arhyen sighed and lowered his cuffed hands to his lap, trying his best to not snap at the infuriating man. “I have no idea who the dead man is,” he said honestly. “Nor do I know why my name was in his pocket.” Another honest statement, mostly.

  Ephraim covered his mouth, silently snickering at Arhyen’s frustration, out of view behind the officer’s back. Arhyen did his best not to glare at him, then waited for the officer to once again repeat his questions, but they never came. Instead, a sharp knock sounded on the door.

  Ephraim moved to open it, and another uniformed officer poked his head in. “A word, please?” the officer asked, gazing at Ephraim.

  Ephraim nodded and stepped out of the room with the officer, shutting the door behind him.

  Arhyen turned back to meet the glare of the pudgy man across the table.

  Several excruciatingly silent minutes later, Ephraim returned to the room. “I’ll take care of the prisoner,” he stated, his eyes on the pudgy officer. “All men are needed in the Captain’s office for briefing.”

  The officer hopped to his feet, surprisingly agile given his stout stature. Within seconds, Ephraim and Arhyen were alone. Ephraim walked calmly toward the officer’s vacated chair and took a seat, then gazed thoughtfully at Arhyen.

  “So am I free to go?” he asked hopefully.

  “Not quite,” Ephraim replied, his emotions impossible to read. “It seems that several of Clayton Blackwood’s men were just found dead. I have not verified that they were the ones who attacked us, but I would somehow not be surprised. Arhyen, what the hell is going on?”

  Arhyen blinked at him in shock. “Found dead?” he questioned in disbelief.

  “Quite dead,” Ephraim assured him. “Butchered, really. Some were only identifiable by the white bands tied around their arms. What’s more, is they were found piled near Blackwood’s front gate, which as I’m sure you know, is in the well kept, wealthy district of town, so lovingly referred to as White Heights. Most of the residents
have security personnel coming out of their ears. Yet, no one saw the killers. The bodies were just suddenly there.”

  Arhyen shook his head, still not entirely able to comprehend what he was hearing. If there was a time to be honest with Ephraim, the time was now. He took a deep breath. “I was hired by Blackwood to retrieve a journal from Fairfax Breckenridge’s hidden estate. I had returned from doing just that when we met you at the train station. Not long after entering London, the journal I’d retrieved was stolen from me by the masked man. I’ve been trying to discern his identity ever since. That same masked man led Liliana and I to a note, allegedly from her father, stating that she should seek out Victor Ashdown. This morning, as I searched for Victor, a masked woman dropped a note in front of me, inviting me to a meeting at 10 PM, tonight. Honestly, I have no idea who killed Blackwood’s men, or why.”

  Ephraim took a sharp breath, his expression a rare show of surprise. “You could have told me all of this sooner,” he breathed.

  Arhyen shrugged and leaned back against his chair. “You didn’t ask.”

  Ephraim shook his head in reply, but seemed to be deep in thought as he stroked his fingers across his lightly stubbled chin. “Victor Ashdown, you say?”

  Heaving a sigh of relief that Ephraim seemed to believe him, he nodded.

  Ephraim pursed his lips in thought. “Victor Ashdown was reported missing several months ago by his daughter. We found no leads whatsoever. As far as the Watch is concerned, Victor Ashdown vanished into thin air.”

  Arhyen nodded. “I spoke to his daughter as well. She refused to give me his home address so I could investigate.”

  Ephraim raised a pale eyebrow at him. “And you think you’d actually find something the Watch has missed?”

  He shrugged, shifting his wrists uncomfortably in the handcuffs. “Perhaps. The Watch likely just looked for signs of who had taken him and where he’d been taken to. I’d be looking for signs of why he was taken in the first place, if that is indeed what happened.”