Legacy of the Clockwork Key

by Kristin Bailey

  “Grab them?” The monster charged Will again and he ran toward me. “I’m trying to stay away from them!”

  We split just before the Minotaur reached us. The motion confused the beast for a second as if it couldn’t decide whom to pursue.

  It was tracking us somehow. I had an idea. I lifted the rifle, turned the crank in the stock, then aimed for the wall and fired.

  The gun kicked into my shoulder, but a blast of red sparks shot out, just as it had when Oliver misfired it. The Minotaur’s stone eyes followed the sparks, then it charged away from us, crashing into the wall.

  “It’s heat.” I didn’t know how to load the gun again. I’d been lucky that it fired properly at all. “The beast is tracking our heat.”

  The great metal beast shook off the effects of the crash into the wall and stamped its foot. The force of it shook the ground.

  It took one step forward, clanging as its foot hit the sand. Then another step. It shook its horns.

  I took a slow step forward and grasped Will’s waistcoat. The beast snorted. I looked it in its garnet eyes, then ran for the gap. The bull charged.

  “Meg!” Will chased after us.

  I barely fit through the gap as the bull crashed into the walls. He recovered too quickly and turned on Will, chasing him to the far side of the circle. I fumbled with the pouch at my hip. There had to be something I could use to . . .

  My fingers tangled into a contraption with a round stone wheel that felt like, flint?

  I pulled it out and squeezed the handles. The stone whirred, causing a rain of sparks to fly off the end. That was it!

  I jumped back through the gap holding Will’s waistcoat at arm’s length.

  “Over here, you brute!” I called, then lit the waistcoat on fire.

  The beast charged and I threw the waistcoat on its head. It looped over one of his horns, covering his dark bronze face in a blaze of licking flame.

  The beast thrashed blindly.

  Will charged, leaping up the back of the monster and grabbing the bull by its horns. His hands slid over the levers and the beast crumbled into the sand. The Minotaur twitched as something in its chest let out a high-pitched whine. Then it fell still.

  Will flung himself off the monster and crashed into me.

  We tumbled backward until he rolled me atop him. He held me, his hand cupped over the back of my head as we lay there and just breathed. I could hear his heartbeat through his thin shirt as I stared at the neat stitches of one of the buttons I’d repaired.

  “You were brilliant,” he whispered. I lifted myself up and peered down on him. His fingertips skimmed along the top of my ear as he tucked a loose lock of hair behind it.

  I didn’t think my heart could beat faster, but it did.

  I pushed away from him, not knowing what to do with my hands. Filled with nervous energy, I nearly tripped as I stepped to the side of the Minotaur and kicked sand over the remains of the burning waistcoat.

  What was Will trying to accomplish? Did he think he could make me forget about his treachery with flattery?

  It wouldn’t work. I didn’t trust him or his intentions, not so long as he remained loyal to Rathford. I knelt by the fallen Minotaur and examined my prize.

  The plate had been affixed hastily. I only had to turn four latches to pull it off the creature’s back. We had one. The other plate still had to be hidden in the labyrinth somewhere. I felt weak in my knees. If this was only the first test, I dreaded the second.

  Will stood before the gate, inspecting it.

  As I joined him, he started spinning gears, slowly moving a tiny metal ball down through the gate by dropping it in certain gaps in the gears, then spinning the wheels to move the ball to a new part of the puzzle. In no time, he had it solved.

  He pushed the gate open.

  “You’re clever,” I commented, not quite sure if I intended it as a compliment.

  He shrugged. “Not so very clever.” He rubbed some sand from his hair. “You nearly killed me,” he confessed. What did he mean? I’d saved his life. Now we were even. He looked at me. His scrutiny made me uncomfortable. “When you entered that ring . . . Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Battle a clockwork beast from the pages of antiquity? I’ll do my best to avoid them from now on.” I flipped a braid back over my shoulder. He had no authority over me.

  “I’m serious, Meg.” His voice softened. “Don’t risk your life for mine.”

  We stood in the threshold of the gate, but I couldn’t pass through until we had this out. “Such a loyal employee, obeying your master’s orders.”

  He broke away from my gaze, staring at his hand on the gate. “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand enough. So long as you are Rathford’s man, you cannot be mine.” I had not intended the words to come out the way they did. I had only meant to say if he was loyal to Rathford, he could not be loyal to me, but now that they were spoken, I couldn’t unspeak them. My heart leapt into my throat as he watched me with silent intensity.

  “I’m my own man, Meg.” He didn’t say another word as he passed through the gate.

  His words seemed to hang in the air. I didn’t know what to do. What had I just unwittingly confessed?

  I followed him through the gate, stepping into another great hedge circle.

  Will’s hair fell over one eye. He stood resolute, and I saw power there. Conviction. Strength.

  He stood before an enormous circular pit constructed of metal. It was easily as wide across as the length of the coach with the horses. A filigree grate covered the top. At one end, a waist-high lever and a large wheel were attached to a short platform.

  Several feet behind him, a small glass building stood against the hedge wall. It looked like a miniature conservatory for plants with a patina copper roof and dusty glass panes held within artful curls of dark metal.

  Will carefully pulled open the doors, revealing an enormous set of gilded wings.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “ICARUS WINGS,” I BREATHED, STEPPING TOWARD THEM, pulled to their beauty. Each feather was a gorgeous work of art, an ivory canvas stretched in a golden frame. The feathers shone as the setting sun reached into the glass house. The edges of the wings glittered as if longing to reach closer to the glorious light. A leather harness held them to a frame against the back wall. The great wings were spread, waiting for flight.

  I ran my fingers over the edge of one of the feathers. This was amazing.

  “What is Icarus?” Will asked as he inspected the straps.

  “Icarus was the son of the inventor who created the labyrinth at Knossos. King Minos locked Icarus and his father in the maze, so they could never reveal the secrets contained inside, so Icarus’s father invented wings for them to escape.” I took a step back and turned to the pit with the grate covering the top of it.

  “They flew?” Will stepped up beside me as I reached the platform attached to the pit. I nodded as I stepped up on it. Will seemed dubious as he tried to turn the wheel. It didn’t budge.

  “Meg, look,” he said.

  In the center of the wheel was the flower medallion.

  I cautiously tried the key, but when I played the song, the earth didn’t shake and no mechanical monsters erupted from the pit. The wheel simply came free, allowing Will to turn it slowly.

  “I wonder what it does,” I mumbled. The covered pit was too deep to reveal the bottom, but what little light filtered through the grate covering the top caught on the edges of something large. I didn’t know what it was.

  “So long as it doesn’t release another Minotaur, I think we can manage.” Will turned the wheel a little faster. My teeth clenched as part of me waited for Hydras, or something equally terrifying, to emerge from the pit. I could hear the low churning of gears below us, but nothing seemed to happen. At least the grate on top seemed sturdy and secure.

  The breeze picked up. It caught the loose lock of hair that had pulled from my braid and lifted it. As I tucke
d it back behind my ear, I realized the wind was blowing up.

  I leaned over the grate and held my hand above it. Sure enough, whatever was down beneath the filigree grate was generating a skyward draft.

  “Will, spin it faster.” I glanced back at the wings, wondering if they could actually fly.

  As Will turned the wheel, the draft became stronger until it buffeted my hand with such power, I didn’t have the strength to hold my arm within it.

  Will halted the wheel and the wind died down. I met his eyes. He seemed to be thinking what I was thinking. “Were these bastards barking mad?” He jumped off the platform and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Perhaps he wasn’t thinking precisely what I was thinking. My thoughts had caught the wind and taken flight, just as I had done in so many of my dreams.

  “Who hasn’t wanted to fly?” Every time I watched a bird leap into the air and soar, I wanted to take the leap as well.

  “Me. You fall you’re dead.” He smacked his hands together in a rather gruesome gesture for emphasis. “Man was given feet to keep them on the ground. Now I have to—”

  “I’m going to do it.” I crossed my arms. He stopped in his tracks and his face paled.

  “No.”

  “Will,” I warned. He had just claimed he was not Rathford’s man, and here he was, once again acting on his orders.

  “I said no.”

  I marched over to the wings, tugging my gloves tighter and fitting the goggles back on my head. I dropped my belt. I didn’t need the extra weight.

  “Meg, you can’t.” Will grabbed my arm but I shook him off.

  “You don’t want to, and I do.” This discussion was over.

  “It’s not . . .”

  “If Rathford wants his precious machine, then this is the only way. I weigh less than you do, and you’re stronger than I am. It only makes sense that I wear the wings and you turn the wheel down here. So obey your orders and help me find the next plate.” The more I thought about it, the more it seemed certain.

  “Meg.” Will’s voice dropped low. The muscle tightened in his jaw as his frustration forced his back straighter. He looked hard and unforgiving.

  “Well?”

  “I can’t watch you fall.” He grasped my arms. I nearly bit my tongue. His gaze lingered on my face. “You’re so—” he whispered. “I can’t watch you fall.”

  His words struck me with sudden force. There was pain and terror in his eyes as he gripped me. In that moment, I realized that this was about so much more than the wings or the lock. Rathford had nothing to do with this. I reached up and barely brushed the skin of his cheek before pulling my hand back. “Then don’t let me fall.”

  My life was in his hands. I trusted him to keep me safe.

  Will’s touch slid down my arms. He brought my hands together and squeezed them. He clung to them just a second longer before he let go. I walked to the wings and lifted them, surprised by how light they were. It was both a relief and disconcerting. My excitement mingled with fear. One mistake and this could be deadly.

  Sliding one shoulder into the harness, I felt Will lift the wings to help me into them. I had to buckle a web of leather straps across my chest and around my hips. Down my back, a metal spine helped support the wings. At the end of that support were two triangular sails that would form a tail of sorts. They had straps for my legs.

  I didn’t tie them just yet, afraid the spine of the wings would make it difficult to walk. I fitted my elbows through padded metal loops beneath the structure of the wings, and held on to the bars at the juncture where the long flight feathers met the framework.

  The contraption was surprisingly flexible, with joints that moved with my body. When I held the wings out, they locked, giving me strength greater than my own to hold the wings steady.

  I stretched and flexed my arms, amazed at how birdlike they’d become. I could move them, even fold them, as a natural bird would. I just hoped I could fly with as much grace and skill as one.

  The walk to the grate seemed endless. With each step the pressure within me mounted. My heart beat in my ears. Will was right, this was insanity.

  As I stepped up on the grate and looked down through the metal lace, my head spun. The void stretched below me and I felt I would fall. I nearly fainted.

  “You don’t have to do this.” Will knelt and buckled the straps to my legs. I felt his hands on my knees, and a second wave of dizziness came over me.

  “Yes,” I murmured. “I do.”

  He rose slowly, standing before me with the sun behind him. In that moment, an aura of light shone around him, like he was the angel and I had merely stolen the wings.

  “I’m not objecting because of Rathford. I haven’t heard anything from him but the note I showed you. This has nothing to do with him.” He paced away only two steps, then turned back. “I’m here for you. It’s always been for you.”

  For a moment I could only breathe as his words melted away the fear and doubt in my heart.

  “I don’t want to see you hurt.” His words were soft, like a prayer.

  “Then help me fly.”

  He took my face in his hands and kissed me.

  His warm lips caressed mine as I felt myself tumble and fall, then soar. All the doubt and uncertainty fled, leaving only my awareness of him.

  He let go, gazing into my eyes with such intensity, I nearly couldn’t breathe. Then he turned, ran to the wheel, and spun it with all his strength.

  The wind rushed up from beneath me. I lifted the wings and launched into the sky. I gasped as I felt the wind, steady and powerful beneath me. The wings locked and it took surprisingly little effort to hold myself steady on the cushion of air.

  He kissed me.

  My heart had flown the moment his lips touched mine. He wanted me. He didn’t long for Lucinda. He didn’t care about Rathford. No, this was something more.

  He needed me. I finally could see how much he needed me.

  The rush of air pushed me higher, and the world fell away beneath me. I tipped the wings with barely a flick of my wrists and suddenly I shifted through the air this way, then that. I locked my wrists, holding on to the handles of the wings with all my strength as I felt a twisting and turning deep inside me.

  The wings steadied and I again rested on the strong draft of air Will produced from the machine on the ground. I looked down to him. Dear Lord, he looked like a tin soldier standing there.

  I was flying.

  Who else in the history of man had seen such a sight? Never had the horizon seemed so large, or the world so small. It was an amazing view.

  The wonder of it mixed with elation and terror as I gazed out over the labyrinth. Like a great quilt, its hedges stretched out over the land, a tapestry woven of gray paths and green walls. As I reached higher, I saw a larger picture emerge in the pattern of the maze—the three-petal flower. Beyond the labyrinth, the tangled woods looked like patches of green sticks amid great seas of waving grass and swaths of color from early blooming wildflowers.

  I looked back down at the maze beneath me. The lock was somewhere within it, somewhere I could only reach with the wings. The fan was in a circle in the dead center of the maze, the Minotaur in a chamber just beyond. To my left, in the heart of the single petal that pointed north like a spade, there was a third circular chamber with no way in, save one. I could drop into it from the sky.

  I tilted my wrist once more and the edge of the wing dipped, pulling me to the left. I stretched the wings, fighting to steady them as I glided toward the chamber. I heard Will shout from below, but I didn’t have the luxury of taking my eyes off my goal. I slipped through the air, the leather straps tugging against my chest. I flapped the wings, aided by the gears at my back.

  I didn’t know how to land. As the circle rushed closer and closer, I tried to remember how songbirds alight on the sill.

  I flapped the wings back to front, sweeping the air forward with all my strength as I dropped my legs. I started to fall. I scre
amed as I flapped in a panic. Something ripped. I prayed it wasn’t the harness. I didn’t have enough strength. I couldn’t stay aloft.

  I fell nearly fifteen feet straight down into the center of the circle. My boots hit first, and I crumpled, expecting to be crushed with pain, but the ground was soft. The landing jarred my knees and hips, but as I fell face-first with my wings outspread, the pillowlike surface cradled my fall.

  Oh, thank heaven I was alive.

  I pulled my arms out of the wings and struggled forward just enough to unstrap my knees and loosen the leather bindings. I wriggled out from beneath the wings then fought to stand. My boots sank into soft sand up to my ankles, and I felt a bit as if I were floating on water, though I wasn’t sure if that was the effect of the ground, the flying, or the kiss.

  Unless . . . I stamped my foot and the sand undulated in waves. I had somehow landed on solid water. Only the Amusementists could achieve such a thing.

  My neck felt cold and I looked down only to find to my horror that the harness had ripped the top five buttons off my dress. The collar hung open exposing my throat nearly to the top edge of my bodice. I covered the bare skin with my hand. What a state.

  “Meg!” Will shouted in the distance.

  He’d found his way quickly through the maze. “I’m here! I’m unharmed!” I yelled as loudly as I could. My ankles and knees hurt from the landing, but I could stand.

  I peered around the unbroken hedge. How was I supposed to get out? Maybe this had been a mistake. I had the sinking feeling I’d just trapped myself.

  I tried to push my hand over my hair and felt the goggles. I fixed them over my eyes and took a second look.

  I didn’t see Ariadne’s thread, but something glowed yellow through the hedge on the far side of the circle. I wobbled over to it. As I reached into the hedge, my hand closed over a lever. I pulled it, and the sound of grinding stone made me jump.

  Two doors opened on either side of the chamber as the sand seemed to firm beneath my feet. Something moved beneath the ground, lifting it until my boots no longer sank quite so badly.

  Will appeared in the passageway, the panic clear in his face. He dropped the rifle, plate, and my belt, then ran straight into the chamber and swept me into his arms.