Clockwork Alchemist (The Thief's Apprentice Book 1)

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Clockwork Alchemist (The Thief's Apprentice Book 1) Page 11

by Sara C. Roethle


  Liliana nodded and took a seat on her makeshift bed, combing her fingers nervously through her long, red hair. “What will we do in the morning?" she whispered.

  He smiled and sat beside her, removing his satchel from across his shoulders to place on the floor. Apparently she didn’t feel like talking about Victor Ashdown either. “You and I will seek out Viola and follow her, while Ephraim returns to the police station to see what information he can dig up on her businesses,” he explained. He also had a feeling that following Clayton Blackwood might be useful, but they would try Viola first. If it was a choice between remaining close to a venomous snake, or a small angry badger, he’d choose the badger.

  “Do you think that she wants to make more automatons like me?” she questioned suddenly. Her large blue eyes refused to meet his as they reflected the moonlight streaming in through the long since broken windows.

  He shook his head, not because it wasn't a possibility, but because he couldn't see what Viola would have to gain. He knew little about her, except that she was a businesswoman. Her stock was mainly in steel, just like Clayton. Of course, he would not be surprised if she had more nefarious involvements.

  “I think she's probably more interested in what else could be created with the same science,” he explained softly.

  Her eyes flicked to him, then moved back to the window. “I think we should destroy the journal I made for you,” she muttered, surprising him.

  “But don't you want to find out just what the formulae are for?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Sometimes I do. Sometimes I think that in order to really move on with my life, I need to find out just what I am. Yet, at other times I think I'm better off not knowing, and I think the world is better off not knowing. Sometimes I think I should not have been created at all, since I only seem to bring trouble for those around me.”

  “What you would call trouble, many would call adventure,” he comforted. Sure, he'd been risking his life on a regular basis since he met her, but at least it hadn't been boring. His entire lifestyle had been based around the need to make things less mundane. He could've worked in a steel mill, or could have put his particular talents to more noble uses, but as far back as he could remember, he'd been set on becoming the greatest thief in London. He'd accepted the risks of his lifestyle from the start.

  Liliana stared down at her hands in her lap dejectedly.

  He nudged her shoulder with his. “Rule number one of becoming a thief," he stated, “nothing is ever supposed to be boring. You see, with your existence, you make my life just what is supposed to be. If you cannot handle that, then perhaps you are not cut out for my profession.”

  She turned her gaze toward him, now listening intently. “What else?" she asked.

  He furrowed his brow in confusion. “What else?”

  “The rules of becoming a thief," she clarified.

  Arhyen paused in thought. He lifted a finger into the air. “So, we already know rule number one,” he began, “and now we must move on to rule number two, which is to never steal from someone who cannot afford the loss.”

  Liliana narrowed her gaze in thought. “I'm not quite sure I understand.”

  He gestured to the room around them. “Well, we wouldn't steal from anyone who lived here, would we?”

  She shook her head, seeming to catch on.

  “But someone like Viola,” he continued, “well, she could afford to be taken down a few pegs.”

  “Rob from the rich and give to the poor,” she quoted. “I believe I've read about that in a book.”

  He had the grace to look abashed. “Well more like rob the rich and give to . . . us.”

  Liliana’s mouth formed an oh of understanding. “And what's rule number three?" she pressed.

  He smiled at her as the final rule came to mind. “Rule number three is to find a partner you can trust. Someone you can rely on to watch your back. Honestly, I only just recently accomplished number three.”

  She cocked her head, tossing her long, red hair over her shoulder. “Ephraim?”

  His laugh hit him so suddenly that he started to cough.

  She stared at him like he’d suddenly sprouted an extra head. Did she truly believe he’d trust a man like Ephraim with his life?

  Once he recovered, he patted her shoulder and explained, “No, not Ephraim. He’ll probably arrest me tomorrow. I was referring to you.”

  Her eyes widened. “You trust me? Isn’t that supposed to take many years?”

  He shook his head. “I’m an excellent judge of character, so I get to skip forward a bit.”

  She looked down at her lap, seeming to think long and hard on what he’d said. Finally, she turned toward him once more. “I trust you too.”

  He was pretty sure it was the first time those words had ever been directed at him. “Don’t say that just yet,” he advised with a wink. “Wait until I’ve earned it.”

  “And how will I know when you’ve earned it?”

  He thought about it. “I’m pretty sure you’ll just know.”

  She nodded curtly. “Alright. I’ll let you know when it happens.”

  He laughed. He felt half asleep as they continued to converse, but found himself simply not ready to go to bed until much later that night. Eventually Ephraim awoke, and Liliana was able to sleep too. It didn’t matter if she needed it. She deserved as much consideration as anyone else.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, after waiting at a small cafe for Ephraim to return from the police station, Arhyen had a freshly written list in his hand. Ephraim had obtained information on all of Viola’s businesses, as well as her home address. Her file was near bursting with information, not the file of an average citizen. Apparently, she was under suspicion of running illegal gambling rings, and many of her businesses were likely a front to hide her smuggling activities. Under the Queen’s rule, taxes on intoxicants had grown high, so smuggling was a common occurrence, though it seemed Viola was smuggling more than spirits, judging by the volume of spotted shipments. Arhyen could personally attest to the validity of the gambling claims, since he’d attended one such game . . . although he hadn’t realized Viola was the one running it. Her steel mills seemed to be legitimate businesses, but then again, there was enough money in steel with the expansion of the railroads to eliminate the need for an illegal boost.

  As Ephraim left them, Arhyen scooted his chair closer to Liliana’s so they could peruse the list together. She’d gathered her red hair into a bun at the nape of the neck, fitting neatly under a black fedora, complimented by a black wool coat with a high collar, both courtesy of Ephraim, in an attempt to hide her identity from any who might recognize her. Her green dress peeked out underneath the coat, but she otherwise looked like a standard lady in mourning, though the hat had far fewer frills than what most women preferred. The clothes wouldn’t do much if whoever searched for her saw her face, or the red hair beneath her hat, but they were a start.

  They sat in the far corner of the establishment, both with their backs to the striped wallpaper so no one could sneak up on them. Arhyen felt that perhaps he was being a bit paranoid, but after all that had happened, he also felt no one could blame him for being cautious. The murders of Clayton’s men had him especially on edge. It would take a large force to not only slaughter so many men, but to then covertly move the corpses through heavily populated areas. Never mind that it had all occurred midday.

  No, there was no doubting that the murders had something to do with Arhyen and Liliana. It was too large of a coincidence for so many men to be killed shortly after Liliana’s attempted kidnapping, but why go to such an extent? Would the newly dead men also have notes in their pockets incriminating him?

  Arhyen sighed and attempted to focus on the task at hand. Shoulders pressed together as they sipped their cooling tea, he and Liliana both read down the list of businesses, more interested in locations than Viola’s alleged crimes. The list started with her steel manufacturing plants.
As suspected, the plant that had been near the street corner where Arhyen was supposed to appear the previous night belonged to V. Walmsley, the name Viola listed for all of her businesses. Underneath the manufacturing plants were listed several shops and a cafe, the name of which Arhyen recognized. He actually liked the particular cafe, and found himself disappointed that it was owned by the woman who was fast becoming his nemesis.

  “This cafe is only a short walk from here,” he explained softly, pointing to the name on the list. “We can start there, then check her home address. If she’s not present at either location, we’ll ask around at the shops.”

  Liliana nodded, her blue eyes still scanning up and down the list as if she’d memorize it. “What if she finds us first?”

  Semi-avoiding her question, mostly because he wasn’t sure of the answer, Arhyen turned his gaze downward and straightened the cuffs on his dirty pinstriped shirt, attempting to quiet his nerves. His black pants were stained with patches of dirt, though he’d done his best to brush them off. Ephraim hadn’t deigned to bring him any new clothing. He took an inordinate amount of time fiddling with his clothing, trying to think up something comforting to say. Finally he straightened the black bowler covering his messy hair.

  Liliana waited patiently, giving him a blank stare.

  He sighed, seeing he was not going to get off the hook. “If she finds us first, we’ll deal with it. I won’t let her harm you.”

  She continued to stare at him evenly. “Will you harm her?”

  He cringed. Would he harm another woman to protect Liliana? The answer was simple, but he feared what Liliana might think of him. “I will do what it takes to keep you safe,” he said softly.

  Liliana blinked at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.”

  Arhyen folded the list and stuffed it in his waistcoat pocket, then downed the remainder of his tea.

  Divining it was time to go, Liliana scraped her fork across her empty plate, scooping up the last remnants of crumbs and icing that were left of her piece of chocolate cake.

  Arhyen stood and offered her his hand. She took it and rose. They left the cafe wordlessly and emerged out onto the gloomy street. There was a harsh chill in the air that day, accompanied by billowing smoke flowing from the rooftops as everyone tried to stay warm. The smoke melded with fog and growing clouds, making the sky gray and murky.

  Wishing he had a coat, Arhyen instinctively patted his satchel. He’d likely never fully get over being robbed by the masked man, when he was the one who was supposed to do the robbing. He briefly considered stopping by his apartment for more appropriate clothing and to stash the journal, but didn’t dare. Between Clayton and Viola’s men, there were simply too many eyes about, and he would not be surprised if someone riffled through his apartment while he was away. Hence, the journal would remain on his person, and Liliana would remain by his side.

  Keeping her close, he guided her down the street toward their first destination. Viola’s cafe wasn't far off.

  He eyed the occasional passersby warily as they walked. He preferred to spot Viola before she spotted them, but either way, finding her was the primary goal. Now that they'd exhausted their efforts on Victor Ashdown, she was one of the last threads of information they had to follow. They rounded a street corner where the cafe loomed over them. It was an odd time of day, too late in the morning for the breakfast crowds, and too early for those out to lunch. The sparsely populated streets made Arhyen and Liliana easily identifiable to any who might be watching. He tugged his hat down to shadow his eyes, then continued onward.

  They approached the large glass windows of the cafe, peering inside to see if Viola was present. Arhyen instantly balked. She was sitting at a table right by the window, sipping tea as if she hadn’t a care in the world. He had not expected to find her so easily. It looked like most of Ephraim's work would go to waste. Now the real decision was whether they would follow her, or investigate her home address while they knew she was away.

  Deciding that someone who had basically built herself a small Empire, and who'd managed to involve herself in the mystery surrounding Fairfax Breckenridge and Victor Ashdown, wouldn't likely leave evidence floating around her house, he decided it best to follow her as soon as she left the cafe. Perhaps she’d lead them to the LN’s secret hideout.

  He quickly pulled Liliana into a nearby alleyway to wait before Viola could spot them. From there, they would be able to peek out and witness as she departed, and hopefully remain undetected.

  “Do you think she saw us?” Liliana whispered, standing a hairs-breadth from him in the alleyway. Her height put her eyes around his collarbone, forcing her to crane her neck upward to look at him.

  He glanced around to verify that they were alone. He could hear the scuffling of a few rats, but the alleyway was otherwise quiet. “I doubt it. That woman seems to think she's invincible. She’d never guess that we’d follow her.”

  Remaining eerily still, Liliana turned her gaze out toward the busy street. They were obscured by the cafe’s waste bins, though if someone happened to peek their head down the alleyway, they would be easy enough to spot. Yet being spotted was not what consumed Arhyen’s mind in that moment. Liliana's closeness made him nervous for several reasons. First, he feared she’d be better off nowhere near him. He was inevitably putting her in danger by following Viola. Given both she and Clayton Blackwood wanted to get their hands on her, hiding Liliana would have been wise. Of course, it was a moot point. He’d been unable to bring himself to leave her somewhere, even with Ephraim. The only way he could truly ensure her protection, was to remain by her side. As for the second reason he was nervous, well, he wasn't quite ready to admit it, even to himself.

  His thoughts were interrupted as the bell on the door to the cafe jingled. A lone pair of high-heeled boots sounded on the sidewalk a moment later. Viola had been the only single woman within the sparsely populated cafe, so chances were, the boots belonged to her.

  “Let's go,” he whispered.

  Liliana nodded, her expression determined.

  He took her hand and peeked around the corner. Viola's crimson jacket-clad back could be seen as she strolled away in the other direction. He waited a few more heartbeats, then stepped out of the alleyway, with Liliana trailing behind him.

  They followed her down the street, stopping as she visited several shops, seemingly running errands. None of it seemed nefarious, but he had no doubt she would eventually lead them to something.

  The adventure continued.

  A few times, Viola glanced over her shoulder, but as the hours wore on and the streets became more heavily populated, it was easy to dodge her line of sight. Eventually, she stopped for lunch. They waited, hidden in a nearby alleyway. Arhyen’s stomach growled and his mood turned foul, resentful that Viola was eating fine food while he starved in a scummy alley.

  When she finally left the restaurant, they continued to tail her. This time, rather than continuing with her mundane tasks, she walked on through the busy streets, heading in the direction of the residences that composed White Heights. As they continued onward, she became more difficult to follow, since the crowds that had hidden them so effectively remained where there was food and shopping.

  They were forced to fall back where they could hide from sight around street corners. Fortunately, Viola did not go far before stopping. They watched from behind a large shrub some distance away as she waited outside a pair of grand gates, tapping her foot impatiently on the pavement. Soon enough, the gates opened before her with a hiss of steam. She confidently marched up the long, gravel driveway.

  Liliana’s hand in his, Arhyen hustled a little further down the street to hide behind another shrub, this one pruned into the shape of a hunting dog, where he’d have a better line of sight. Liliana pressed close to him, a necessity for them both to remain hidden behind the ridiculous vegetative ornament.

  From the new vantage point, they were able to watch Viola as she stopped at the front door
of the mansion. Though Arhyen could just barely make out the door opening from that distance, he imagined the automaton maid’s impassive face as she invited Viola inside. Soon Viola disappeared into the building. Though there was nothing left to see, there was plenty to think about. The mansion belonged to none other than Clayton Blackwood. What the hell was Viola doing walking into Blackwood's estate?

  If he'd been alone, he would have been tempted to investigate further, but it was too risky with Liliana along. He was about to tell her they should find a more secure hiding place to wait, when movement near the mansion caught his eye. Looking to it, he saw a man dressed in black, with a white mask obscuring his face. He was running alongside the house toward the back.

  Liliana, who'd also spotted the masked man, turned wide eyes to Arhyen. Then, much to his surprise, she darted from their hiding spot and effortlessly vaulted over the low wall that encircled the rest of Clayton's estate. After recovering from his shock, he quickly crossed the street, then scaled the wall to chase after her. It was complete insanity running across Clayton's front yard after the masked man, but he couldn't very well allow Liliana to go after him alone. His feet slipping on the damp grass, he pushed himself to run faster. His satchel thunked against his side with each step.

  Twenty paces ahead of him, Liliana reached the side of the house where the masked man had disappeared, then hurried around the corner without hesitation. Cursing under his breath, Arhyen followed. He rounded the corner where she’d disappeared, reaching the back end of the house. Liliana had paused there. He stopped too quickly in the slick grass and almost slipped, then recovered and moved to stand by her side. Together they watched the masked man vault through an open window into the mansion.

  Arhyen shook his head in disbelief. “Well he's obviously not working with Viola,” he muttered.

 

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