Much to his frustration, he had to go to the other side of the building to find the door. He kicked it.
“Open up!”
The door opened a crack and a boy with a scowl and greasy hair peeked out into the opening.
“What d’you want?”
Longinus burst through the door and into a roastingly hot workshop.
“Where is Cruikshank? Now!”
“I’m right here,” came a voice over by a roaring furnace.
A small but muscular woman walked up to him, wiping her hands on a cloth.
“What do you mean by bursting into my workshop like —”
“This is Rory, she needs help and bad. She’s lost a lot of blood and I just — I don’t know what to do. She told me to find you.” He thrust his bundle forward.
“Gods alive, Rory? Over here, quick!”
Cruikshank ran over to her workbench, and with a quick sweep of her arms sent its contents crashing to the floor. Longinus put his precious bundle down and Cruikshank opened the tarp, revealing the bloody mess that was Rory. She sucked in air between her teeth.
“What happened?”
“A rapier… A guard.”
When she touched the wound, cutting back the fabric around it, Longinus fainted again.
He awoke to find himself soaked with water, the lad looking down at him with a frown. He had time enough to see Cruikshank’s hands moving with impressive speed, her fingers covered with blood, before he passed out again. When he finally came to, this time without the help of the lad, Rory looked much better. Most of the blood had been cleaned off, and Cruikshank was working with a needle and thread to stitch the wound closed. Despite her thick knuckles and wide hands, she worked with astonishing dexterity.
Longinus turned away just as she brought the needle to the skin.
“I have to get some air,” he muttered, but no one paid him any attention.
He sat outside next to the front door, drinking in the warm night air, and tried not to think of what was going on inside. Things would be fine now. Rory would get patched up, and if they kept a low profile for a while, things would blow over. If he gave Myran what she wanted — the Viper — maybe she would leave them be. He would simply have to learn to exist without his alter ego. He felt a pang of crushing sadness at the thought and his eyes welled up as if a real person had just died, but there was no other choice.
The door opened and he looked up to find the lad.
“You can come in now. There’s no blood left. You’re not so good with it, are you?”
He shook his head.
“What’s your name?”
“Longinus.”
“I’m Norman.”
The lad held the door open, and Longinus followed him back in. Cruikshank looked up as she was wiping her hands.
“Are you the one who’s been training Rory?” she asked.
He nodded.
“You’re going to tell me what happened, and right now, because if you’re responsible for that wound, so help me I will —”
“It wasn’t me. I swear it on my honour it wasn’t me. Will she be alright?”
“I think so. She’s lost a lot of blood, but I think I got there in time.”
Rory was still on the bench, laid out on the tarp. She seemed even smaller than usual, shrunken beneath her mass of rope hair. But she was breathing.
“I’m going to move her upstairs to my office,” said Cruikshank, gesturing at the wooden box up on the metal runway. “There’s very little we can do now but wait.”
Longinus nodded. He hoped they wouldn’t be waiting for Rory to die.
Chapter 36
Rory awoke to the feeling that her saliva had turned to sawdust. She peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth and looked around. She was in an unknown room. The walls were pale yellow and there was a vase out of which poured a spray of jasmine. The flowers smelled strong and sweet, but beneath there was the smell of hot metal and tar. Through the window at the foot of the bed, she could see that it was the middle of the night.
She turned her head and her neck felt like a stiff hinge — she half expected to hear it creaking. At the foot of the bed, to the left, was Cruikshank, asleep in a chair. Rory guessed that they were up in her private quarters in her workshop, and it was a relief to be back in familiar, safe surroundings — although she had never been in Cruikshank’s private quarters before.
The events of the last day bubbled up in her memory: finding the cavern, hearing of the plot against the Old Girl, Myran…Myran. Guilt as heavy as granite settled on her when she remembered that for a moment she had been ready to take Myran’s offer. That she had hesitated before helping Longinus.
Some hero she was.
Something else surfaced, an idea that she had had in the tunnels, too vague and confused for her to grasp it properly. Rory focused on that, finding it far easier than confronting her failings. It had been something about the world watching. Myran had said the whole world would be watching, which had to mean —
“The Revels,” she rasped aloud.
Over in her chair, Cruikshank started awake.
“Ah, you’re finally up,” she said. “You gave us quite a fright, lovey.”
She got up and brought a glass of water over. Rory drained it in one go, and Cruikshank poured her another.
“Where’s Longinus?” Rory croaked, before downing the second glass.
“Downstairs.”
Rory moved her left arm a little and winced. It felt stiff, and there was a sharp pain where the wound was, at her shoulder.
“Careful with that, lovey, don’t move it too much. I’ve stitched you up, and you don’t want to reopen it.”
Rory nodded and let herself relax into the pillows. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Two days.”
“What? Someone should have woken me up!”
“Don’t be silly. You’d lost a lot of blood, sleep’s the best thing for you.”
“But that means the Revels are in two days, aren’t they?”
“Yes, why?”
“Has Longinus explained anything to you about what happened?”
Cruikshank’s face clouded over.
“I don’t know how you have been able to put up with him. He has been driving me crazy, trying to tell me how to run my workshop, how to organise my workbenches. He has been up here checking on you constantly, though. But no, he’s refusing to talk about what happened, other than to tell me a guard did this to you.”
Rory pushed the covers back.
“We have to warn the Marchioness.”
“The Marchioness? Why?”
Rory stood up, and would have fallen right back down if Cruikshank hadn’t caught her.
“Easy… Come this way.”
She led Rory past the screen and into a very feminine parlour. Rory wasn’t sure what she had expected from Cruikshank’s quarters, but this certainly wasn’t it.
Comfortable-looking chairs faced each other, and next to them on a little round table was an odd plant, like a cross between an orchid and a pitcher plant. Behind one of the chairs, a criss-cross of gleaming copper pipes was fixed to the wall, acting as a bookshelf. Rory was surprised to see that the books crowding the makeshift shelves were all tawdry romances.
“Well don’t gape, lovey, just because I’m a machinist don’t mean I can’t enjoy a little titillating reading.” Cruikshank winked and Rory felt herself go red. “Let’s get you sat down and then why don’t you tell me what is going on, starting from the beginning.”
Cruikshank lit a cigar, blowing up a thick plume of blue smoke. Rory recounted everything from the day Jake had screwed her over. She glossed over the blackmail as quickly as she could, earning herself a single dark look from Cruikshank, and she thought it best not to mention that she had broken into Longinus’ house too.
As she spoke, Cruikshank picked up a small metal box and began feeding each orchid, taking a wriggling insect from the box with tweezers, and droppin
g it into the flowers’ pouches. The flowers shivered in turn as though they were aware that dinner had just been served. Rory leaned back, keeping well clear of them.
When at last she had finished, Cruikshank put down the box.
“Lovey, how do you know Longinus isn’t really working with his sister on this? He’s an assassin. His expertise is deception.”
“He isn’t. I was with him when he found out about the killings, right, and when he came face to face with Myran.”
“That could all be an act.”
“Why would he do that? He could easily have got rid of me before that, and then no need for the act. And would he have saved me after we got out the tunnels? D’you realise how hard it would have been for him to carry me, bleeding and all?”
Cruikshank conceded that she had a point.
“Don’t think that makes him innocent, though,” she said. “He will still have to answer for his crimes.”
“Cruikshank, you’re missing the point. Myran is going to kill the Marchioness at the Revels.”
“Yes, and I am getting to that. But I won’t let you get blindsided by this Longinus. People like him —”
“I can look after myself, thanking you.”
Cruikshank looked pointedly at Rory’s shoulder.
“That’s different, alright?” said Rory. “Longinus ain’t getting arrested. He’s the only one that knows if there’s a way to stop the poison. So you don’t say nothing to no one about him, or he and I will disappear and the Old Girl will die, and Damsport will go back to the Empire.”
Rory fell silent, a little shocked at how she had spoken to Cruikshank. The older woman looked equally as surprised. She lit another cigar.
“We’ll have to tell the Marchioness about him,” she said at last. “I’ve dealt with her enough before, lovey, and she’s not an easy woman. She’ll need the entire story and all the facts. For starters, is there a way to combat the poison?”
“See, that’s why you need Longinus. And if he gets arrested, he might not cooperate.”
Rory gave a smug smile. Cruikshank rubbed her forehead, which for once was clean.
“Let’s go down. You need food.”
“One more thing. Swear on your life you won’t say a peep about Longinus’ fear of blood, or about the fact that Myran’s his sister.”
Cruikshank opened her mouth to say something, but Rory interrupted. “Swear it. And I know with an honest type like you swearing means something, so you got to say the words.”
“Fine, I swear.”
“Alright then. Let’s go and talk to Longinus.”
Chapter 37
Rory asked Norman and Cruikshank to give her some privacy with Longinus.
“My answer won’t change just because they’re out of earshot,” said Longinus. “I won’t have anything to do with this. You’re healed, or at least well enough to function. We can go, leave Damsport maybe, start up somewhere else. I’ll keep you as my apprentice and we can forget about all of this.”
“I’m not running away, Longinus.” As she spoke Rory bit off a chunk from the strip of cured ostrich meat Cruikshank had given her. It was tough and salty but quite delicious.
“Why, are you still desperate to partner up with my sister?” he asked bitterly.
“No. Look, I’m sorry about that, alright. I was a kid when I met her, and she fought so well… I had no idea who she was. I want nothing to do with her now, and that’s the honest truth.”
Longinus shrugged and wouldn’t look at her.
“I had another idea, too,” continued Rory. “A way you can stop her from taking the Viper from you.”
He looked up at this. Encouraged, she continued.
“If the Viper saves the Marchioness, he would be a hero. Then Myran’s lost twice. Think about it. It’s the best way to beat her.”
“And how are we supposed to do that? She’s unstoppable. She always gets what she wants.”
“Well, we know that she plans to use your poison, right? I saw all the uniforms in the cavern. I reckon she means to pass herself off as a member of the Old Girl’s staff, and get close to her that way. So if you make an antidote —”
“There is no antidote. The poison’s too fast. Once it has touched the skin, there is no stopping it.”
Longinus’ face was a mixture of pride and regret. Rory thought some more.
“What about if you make a pre-antidote, like something the Old Girl would have to take before the Revels that would stop the poison from acting?”
“That wouldn’t work either. The best we can hope for is a buffer, something to place between the poison and the skin — like a paste of some kind. It won’t be elegant, though, and it won’t be very reliable.”
“Well, at least that’s something. Can you make it?”
“I need my notes and my alchemical equipment. Without my formulae I can’t do anything.”
Rory called Cruikshank and Norman back over.
“We need alchemical equipment,” she told them, explaining Longinus’ solution to the poison.
“That’s easy,” replied Cruikshank. “Tell us what you need and Norman will go out and get it as soon as the sun comes up.”
“Good,” said Rory. “Now for the notes… Myran will have discovered our escape by now and she’ll be watching the house. If it weren’t for my arm I could climb to the roof and break in, but I don’t think I’d be able to climb anything.”
“That’s something I can help with,” said Cruikshank.
She pulled back the tarp that was covering the huge spider in the corner of her workshop. Longinus stumbled back in horror.
“Pretty special, isn’t she?” said Norman, who had sidled over.
“She’s fast and silent, and she can run the roofs better than you can, lovey,” Cruikshank said to Rory, patting one of the spider’s forelegs.
She fetched a canvas jacket and two sets of goggles. She passed a pair to Rory.
“The spider’s built for two, but Longinus will be too heavy to ride pillion,” she said.
“I beg your pardon?” said Longinus.
Rory felt sure he had sucked in his stomach on answering, and she smothered a smile. It was good to see him reverting to his usual self.
“Most people would be too heavy to ride pillion considering how far we have to go,” replied Cruikshank. “We might run out of steam on the way back. We should be alright with Rory though, and I’m going to need directions.”
“Can you explain where your notes are and what you need?” Rory asked Longinus.
He hesitated. “No one has ever handled my notes except me.”
“This ain’t the time to be precious,” she pointed out. “We got to stop your sister.”
Still he looked reluctant. “There’s a particular way to get into the compartment where I store them,” he said. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to open it…”
“Longinus, seriously. If you keep wasting time it’ll be Myran getting your notes, not me.”
That seemed to decide him and he explained how to press the marquetry on his desk to open the compartment.
“Can you also take a set of clothing?” he asked. “And then I’ll need some of my equipment.”
“We can’t be loading down the spider too much or she won’t jump,” replied Cruikshank. “I told you, Norman can go buy the equipment.”
“I’m not sure we can trust him with —”
“He’s the son of one of my closest friends and a good worker,” cut in Cruikshank. “If I say you can trust him, then you can trust him.”
Longinus looked as though he was about to reply, but a warning glance from Cruikshank convinced him to keep quiet.
Cruikshank climbed up onto the spider’s back, strapping herself into the front harness. Then, both she and Longinus helped Rory get up without making use of her bad arm.
“Strap yourself in, lovey,” said the older woman. “We’ll be mostly horizontal for this trip but still, better safe than sorry.”
<
br /> “Horizontal? What d’you mean horizontal?”
* * *
Once they were both strapped in and ready, Cruikshank pushed a lever and the spider hissed to life beneath them. The legs moved one by one, as though stretching after a long sleep. Cruikshank then grabbed hold of another lever and it scuttled across the workshop with terrible speed, its eight articulated legs making spine-shuddering clicking noises. It reached the opposite wall, put its two front legs up against the brick at Cruikshank’s command, and slowly began to climb.
Rory let out a cry of surprise which was echoed by Longinus. The spider moved up the wall quickly, squeezing through a gap in the metal walkway. Rory held onto the spider with her legs, her good arm around Cruikshank’s waist, relieved there was a harness to keep her from slipping off its back.
At the top of the wall was a large window, and Cruikshank guided the spider through it and onto the roof. Dawn was still a way off, but there was enough moonlight to illuminate their path. The spider’s legs clicked loudly on the zinc roof.
“She’s not made for metal roofs like mine,” said Cruikshank. “We’ll be quieter once we’ve left the crescent. She’s inspired by your ability to hop around the roofs, you know.”
Cruikshank increased the spider’s speed, its legs scuttling in a blur of motion. They rushed towards the edge of the roof, and just when it looked like they would pitch over, the spider’s legs and abdomen let out a powerful burst of steam that propelled them straight up and over the gap to the next roof.
They landed with a loud clang.
“Landing’s a bit shaky,” said Cruikshank.
“Still pretty impressive,” replied Rory.
They moved quickly from roof to roof, and as Cruikshank predicted, once they left the crescent the spider no longer made any noise save a soft clicking from its leg joints.
“Can she clear a traversal?” asked Rory.
“She can indeed. And thoroughfares.”
Rory whistled softly. Cruikshank would have the run of the roofs now.
“She’s a prototype,” continued Cruikshank. “I was going to unveil her at the Revels. The unveiling is technically a little early, but on the plus side it means I can give her a good test run. I’ve been keeping her locked away in the warehouse — this is her first outing.”
The Viper and the Urchin: A Novel of Steampunk Adventure (Bloodless Assassin Mysteries Book 1) Page 20