Legacy of the Clockwork Key

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Legacy of the Clockwork Key Page 20

by Kristin Bailey


  My heart thundered and it took all my effort to pull my hand open and reach for the lever. Without a double grip on the rung, all sense of security fled. I felt as if at any moment I’d tip backward and fall into the blackness. I yanked the lever down and then grasped the rung again, holding so tightly I felt the ache of it in my palms.

  The door above my head closed with a rattling boom, plunging us into darkness. Bits of pebble and dirt from the edge of the door tumbled down, down, down. The soft clicks echoed off the cold metal walls of the shaft, then nothing, nothing but the damp smell of earth, rust, and stagnant water.

  Bloody hell.

  I edged lower, reaching for the next rung with my foot. I felt the bar and I put some weight on it.

  My foot slipped.

  I gasped. My hands locked as I pulled my body as securely as I could against the ladder. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t let go. I tried to breathe in, but my chest constricted. My arms felt as solid as strawberry jam. I wouldn’t be able to hang on forever.

  I was going to fall.

  “Meg?” Will’s voice reached up to me. It brought with it a dizzy wave of warmth. He was just below me. I fought to take in a real breath. It came a bit easier.

  “I can’t move.” My voice shook as I said it. I couldn’t open my eyes. What good would it do if I did? We were in a narrow shaft within the earth. Surely this was what it felt like to descend into the grave.

  Or fall to hell itself.

  “Just take a step down. I’m right below you,” he said, his voice ringing loudly in the closed space.

  I wanted to. I tried. Every time I shifted to take a step, my body shook with such terrible tremors that I felt I would pull the rungs from the wall. I couldn’t make my foot lift, no matter how much I willed it to.

  “I can’t.” My voice sounded like a broken sob, and my shame burned me.

  “Don’t move. I’m coming up.”

  Move? I twisted my wrists, holding on to the rung with all my strength as I felt it vibrate. What was he about? How could he come up?

  I felt him then, his hands reaching the rungs on either side of my legs. His body brushed upward, sliding along the backs of my thighs as he pulled himself up behind me. A shock like lightning caught fire within me.

  His arms closed in beside mine, his hands sliding over my hands as I felt the heat and pressure of his body sheltering me from the terrible dark. I could feel his touch in every part of me as his thighs cradled mine and his feet found purchase on the same rung I stood on. His breath curled against my neck just below my ear as he squeezed my hand.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I won’t let you fall. One rung at a time. We’ll do this together.”

  A wave of dizziness swept through me. I felt as if I were falling, but his steady hand closed over mine. “One rung at a time,” he said again, his hot whisper kissing my ear. “I need you to let go.”

  My body shook as I felt a hot tear slide over my cheek. I forced myself to take a deep breath and pulled my hand open. I could feel the heat of Will’s palm through my glove as he leaned in tighter, sheltering me from my fear and the dark. He guided our hands lower, until my fingers touched hard steel.

  I clenched the new rung as his hand slid around my waist and he eased me downward.

  “Now the foot.” His calm assurance couldn’t ease my panic enough to allow me to lift my foot on my own, as I felt him lower his body, urging me to follow. With my leg pressed against his, he led us down, guiding my toe to the next rung.

  I exhaled, my breath leaving my body in a shaking rush.

  “Good.” I felt his lips brush my neck. “One at a time. Just one at a time.”

  Hand, foot, hand, foot, we fell into a rhythm as his body slid against mine with each slow step downward. Surrounded by his heat and strength, I could no longer focus on the dark or the terrible height of the ladder. The world became no greater than the steady circle of his arms and the heavy pulse of my heart beating so loudly it seemed to echo through the chamber.

  My arms and legs ached with effort, and my insides fluttered with such power I thought for a moment I might float back up to the tree. It seemed we’d been climbing for hours. Overwhelmed and undone, I could no longer form a thought in my head.

  Finally I heard Oliver and Lucinda shuffling below.

  “You did it, Meg,” Will said, his voice deep and hoarse. “It’s not far now. I’ll help you down.”

  His body slid down mine, then fell away, leaving me cool and breathless. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding beneath my breast. I gritted my teeth, determined to do these last few steps on my own.

  Will’s hands slid over my hips and clasped me about the waist as if his arms belonged there.

  I let go of the ladder, and turned, wrapping my arms around his strong neck instead. He lifted me down as the rush of dizzy elation stole the strength from my legs. I didn’t think I could stand. I’d been so overwhelmed by my fear.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, shaking.

  “You’re welcome.” He held me, his lips nearly touching mine.

  I couldn’t stand, couldn’t breathe. Surely my feet were not touching the ground, for I could not feel it. Only aware of his closeness, his touch, I waited. My anticipation twisted through my shaken body as I longed for him to kiss me.

  The hiss of an oil lamp broke the silence, and my eyes stung with the sudden stab of light. One by one, a procession of lights flared to life, illuminating the chamber.

  Wincing, I scrambled away from Will. I blinked, only to see a very smug-looking Lucinda and Oliver staring at us.

  Oliver was still wearing the goggles, and grinning like a cat in a room full of canaries. “Afraid of heights, Meg?”

  “No.” I scowled at him, rubbing my skirt to try to ease the shaking in my hands and weak feeling in my knees. Will was doing his best to look innocent, but it wasn’t working. “Only ladders.”

  “I guess you won’t be the one scaling the rigging, then,” he stated as a matter of course.

  I was about to say something else to the smirking inventor, but I lost my words as I stared into the deep chamber before us. The hill where we had stood above the lake was merely a shell. Now we were within a great carved cavern, closed off to all daylight by enormous doors that must have formed the sheer cliff face on the outside.

  I gazed in wonder at the ship moored in a wide canal. Its sturdy hull had been patched together with plates of brass and iron. A row of small doors for the cannons had been fitted with interlocking gears. There were also three large brass ports, great circles with teeth, just above the waterline. No ship I’d ever seen had looked anything like this.

  Three surprisingly short masts jutted up from the decks, and the lamplight glittered on the enormous wheels set next to them.

  “Would you look at that?” Will took a couple of steps closer to the ship as Lucinda lit another lamp.

  “Mare-ee-ment,” he said, sounding out the ship’s name. “No wonder it didn’t defeat the monster. It’s hardly a name that would strike fear into the heart of the beast.”

  My eyes took in the shining letters along the side of the ship.

  Merriment.

  It seemed the perfect name to me.

  Lucinda lifted the lamp off the wall and followed Oliver to the gangplank. “They patched her up. I didn’t think anything would ever repair the hole the Leviathan smashed in the side.”

  “Is she still seaworthy?” Will asked.

  “She doesn’t have to be, least not any more than what is required to stay afloat,” Lucinda said.

  “Isn’t that the most important part?” I questioned.

  She let out a huff. “Simon wrote several pages on the construction of the ship. The ship is chained to a carriage on a rail beneath the water. Once the carriage starts down the track, it will pull the ship to the right location, then keep the ship from drifting too far away from the monster during the battle.”

  Drifting away from the monster sounded like a fine
idea to me. Being stuck on a track meant there was no way out of the fight should the battle turn against us.

  Will seemed as skeptical as I. “That doesn’t mean she can’t sink,” he whispered to me.

  As we walked over the gangplank, the light from Lucinda’s lantern reflected off the smooth black water beneath us, turning it to shining glass. With the lowered masts and the patched hull, I imagined myself stepping onto the deck of a ghost ship.

  Lifeless automatons slumped in the shadows. They had all been fitted with the ornate blue coats of the navy. Their faces were smooth blank plates. As I passed one, my own visage reflected back at me from the mechanical man’s empty face and I shivered.

  We climbed over large pipes and rails running across the surface of the deck, a framework of brass connected directly to the automatons’ legs. They must serve as rails for the crew to move about the deck. Large cogs emerged from slots in the deck, connecting the levers and wheels above to whatever was hidden below. We reached a door leading into the cabins beneath the higher deck in the back of the ship.

  I pushed the door open, and it yielded with an ominous creak. We entered what appeared to be the captain’s study with a large desk, and a harpsichord facing the windows in the back.

  The Amusementists had an eye for detail, it seemed. From the thick velvet draperies to the hand-blown glass of the lamps, the cabin looked as if some grand naval commander had charted the course of his ship in this room for years. Framed woodcuts depicted ships locked in battle with giant tentacled beasts. Cobwebs hung from the arms of the lamps and the carved molding, subtly shifting with the power of our awed breath.

  “It’s the captain.” Oliver’s voice stabbed through me, even though he’d said nothing extraordinary. It had merely broken the silence. That was enough to set me on edge.

  An automaton stood at the desk, looking stately in a dusty bicorn and dark blue coat with buttoned-back white lapels and gold braid. He reminded me a bit of Napoleon. He even had the emperor’s stature. His blank face, though completely smooth, somehow seemed to scowl at the charts strewn out before him.

  “Look.” Will rubbed his hand over the captain’s chart.

  The words “Play it” had been scrawled in a rough hand across the surface of the map.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THERE WAS ONLY ONE THING I COULD PLAY, AND ONLY one place to play it. I crossed the plush Turkish carpet with a great deal of apprehension. I’d only ever performed on the pianoforte, never the harpsichord. Although the two instruments looked similar in shape, they couldn’t have been more different.

  For one, the harpsichord’s keys were black with the half steps white. A delicate mosaic of blue and green tiles surrounded the double-level keyboard. Beneath the lid, a hand-painted image of a ship lost on a stormy sea loomed over the taut strings, and inlays of pale wood swirled like growing vines in the dark red cabinet.

  But more than that, the entire instrument had been fitted with wheels, cogs, tiny pistons, and brass shafts, so beneath the strings, the entire inside of the cabinet looked like the crowded inner workings of a pocket watch.

  Please don’t let me forget.

  The thought of missing a single note terrified me. I had no idea what the consequences of a mistake might be. I only knew one thing. I had to play my grandfather’s song.

  The key could not help me now.

  I pulled off my leather gloves and placed my hands on the smooth ebony keys, leaving dark smudges in the fine coat of dust. I let my grandfather’s song play through my mind.

  Once again I could see him in our sitting room, laughing as I stood on his toes and we danced.

  I wanted to be with him again so badly.

  I pressed the first note, then the others followed in steady rhythm as if each note followed the beat of my heart.

  The harpsichord plucked the tinny-sounding strings and filled the ship with high, metallic notes. The cogs and wheels were set in motion, spinning shafts below the instrument that disappeared through the floor. The ship, or perhaps it was the cavern itself, rumbled and shook.

  I continued to play, refusing to break my concentration on the song.

  Light spilled in through the dusty windows along the back of the room. The rumbling increased, the ship swaying against its ties.

  “Keep going, Meg,” Oliver urged.

  Something struck the ship. I started, and Oliver ran out the door. I turned to watch him go.

  “Don’t worry about him. You can do this,” Will encouraged, taking a place by my side.

  I gritted my teeth and played. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched humongous stone blocks slowly lowering on huge chains along the back of the cavern as a narrow shaft of light grew, much the way the light used to stream in when I pulled back the heavy curtains in Rathford’s study. I stared at the counterweights, now bathed in light, with awe, watching them drop with a grace that belied their enormous mass. Only those counterweights had the power to wind the ship and open the massive doors in the cliff face. Only I had the power to lower them.

  My fingers stumbled and the ship shuddered. The sound of groaning metal filled the cavern. I had to keep going. I took a deep breath and focused on the music with everything I had. It was all that mattered.

  The song flowed through me as I played. It was a part of me. I didn’t need the key around my neck. I was the key.

  Hitting the notes with greater fervor, I made the harpsichord sing merrily as the world outside seemed to shake to pieces.

  As I reached the end of the song, the stones hit the floor of the cavern with a crushing boom.

  “Meg, come look,” Will said. I pushed off the bench and joined him at the captain’s desk.

  The automaton had come to life, perusing his charts with a slightly jerking motion of his head. His tall bicorn slid on his smooth head as he looked this way and that. Then his hand, nearly as golden as the braids at his cuff, rolled the chart to the side and reached under the desk. Will glanced at me and grinned almost as if he enjoyed this. How far we’d come.

  “You seem amused,” I teased.

  “This one doesn’t have horns.”

  Click. Gears rattled as the center of the desk rose straight up on brass legs.

  Beneath it, the light caught the edge of the fifth plate.

  Will gave me an impressed nod. “Well done.”

  I reached into the secret compartment and my fingers closed around the plate. A part of me couldn’t believe it had been that simple, but then, it wouldn’t have been a simple task for anyone else. It would have been impossible. I tucked the plate into the satchel and savored my moment of victory.

  A gust of wind blew the door to the captain’s quarters open. The rush of air straight off the cold lake waters cut through my clothes, and I rubbed my arms.

  Will pulled the coat off the captain’s back then held it out for me.

  I slid my arms into the sleeves, pulling my braids forward so they wouldn’t catch on the epaulets. Will helped settle the comforting weight of the fine wool and linen on my shoulders then dusted off the back.

  “He’s not going to need it,” Will commented as he looked at the naked brass torso of the captain. “And it suits you better.”

  I ran my hand over the lovely ivory panels held back by brass buttons in the front. It made me feel important.

  Will gazed into my eyes. It made me feel important to him. “What now, captain?” He gave me a mock salute.

  I smiled. “It’s time to set sail.”

  We hurried out of the captain’s quarters. “We found the fifth plate!” I called to Oliver and Lucinda.

  “Best be off then before this storm closes in.” Oliver tugged on a waist-high lever, forcing it down. The lever gave suddenly with a resonant clunk that nearly pulled him over.

  A brass shaft detached from the side of the ship and receded slowly back into the stone bank of the canal. “Help me with these others.” Oliver shoved back his cuffs and pulled on another.

  Lucind
a tried a lever, but it took my efforts combined with hers to release the shaft. Working around the deck, we managed to detach them all. Finally, the ship was free.

  The deck rose and sank in a disconcerting motion. I found I had to steady myself by holding on to the rail. For the first time I could really see the interior of the cavern. I felt as if I’d stepped inside the innards of a gargantuan locomotive. The complex gear works reached up both cavern walls, as brass girders supported pipes arching over the ceiling of the cave.

  The cliff doors had slid open, revealing the lake beyond. Wind-swept water rushed into the short canal, lapping at the hull of the ship. The sounds of wind and water surrounded us as I marveled at the mechanism that engulfed both walls of the cavern.

  The gears seemed to be the size of houses. How did men make such things?

  This was too big for me.

  “Who’s going to sail this thing?” I asked Oliver. I had never been on a ship, much less driven one, if that was even the proper term.

  “Well, you, of course,” Oliver said as if it were obvious.

  “What?” I couldn’t steer the ship. Clearly he had lost all sense completely. “I’m a girl. The closest I’ve come to sailing a ship is floating a saucer in a tub full of water.”

  Oliver waved his hand as if shooing a fly. “This ship has been sitting in this cave for years now. The gears are going to give us trouble. You’ll need me down below manning the cannons.”

  “You?” Lucinda interrupted. “Your aim is terrible. You couldn’t hit the lake. I’ll man the cannons.” She crossed her arms. “And if I can be the gunner, you can be the captain, Meg.”

  Oliver cocked his head and glared at her. “In any case, if gears or levers are caught, Lucinda and I know how to work the automatons below.”

  “What about Will?” My voice pitched higher. “I can keep lookout while he’s steering up on the high deck.”

  “It’s called the poop deck.” Oliver tested one of the levers we’d just used to detach the winding shaft.

  Poop deck? Surely he was jesting.

 

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