“How about Sutherland? Kettlebent?”
“Same old, mate. Not sure what y’want t’hear.”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m missin’ somethin’. Bein’ stuck here doesn’t help.” Sev laid three cards on the table. Henry hooted from the back of Sev’s chair. “See? Even Henry can tell I’m not doin’ anybody any good stayin’ here.”
“Don’t matter,” Rat growled. “It’s the safest place for ye.”
“To hell with ‘safe’. I’m goin’ t’get some air.” Sev threw all his cards down and rose from the table.
“Ye can’t!” Rat barked.
“Too late,” Sev called, already on his way downstairs. Rat jumped up, scattering cards on the floor as he dashed after Sev.
SEV stretched and took a deep breath of Blackside’s filthy air. He’d once again grown accustomed to it. “I need a drink.” Looking up and down the block, he noticed a pub on the far corner, so he walked that way. Rat emerged from the building a moment later, cigar in his mouth, his breath coming in great ragged heaves. The streetlights were just being lit as Rat dashed off after Sev. Lights in Blackside weren’t lit as regularly as they were in Fairside. Midnight must be responsible for these.
Sev entered the pub—The Bell and Brass—sidled up to the bar, and ordered a shot and a pint of ale. Rat burst through the doors behind him. “Make that two.” Sev held up two fingers. The barkeep poured two shots and two pints. After several tries to hoist himself onto the stool next to Sev, Rat finally managed to get himself up. “Cheers,” Sev said and toasted Rat. The two young men downed their shots, and Sev sipped his ale.
“If ye wanted a drink, I could o’fetched ye a bottle,” Rat explained.
“I wanted open space, people who aren’t just you,” Sev responded. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Rat gulped his ale. The crowd within the pub paid the pair no attention as they went about their business, drinking, carousing, and arguing. Sev needed this, real human interaction, even if he wasn’t a direct participant. He ordered a second round, and Rat didn’t object. The two young men drank in silence, listening to the general ruckus surrounding them.
Sev had just called for a third round of drinks when a commotion erupted on the street. It wasn’t unusual. On the contrary, altercations were commonplace here. What caught Sev’s attention was the sound of a girl’s startled voice. Sev could hear the sobs punctuating her pleading tone. Sev couldn’t make out specific words, but he could tell she was distressed. He heard male voices chuckling, and the girl screamed. Sev was too familiar with situations like that. He slammed his empty glass on the bar and slipped off his stool.
“What’re ye doin’?” Rat asked, making sure to drain not only his drink but Sev’s as well.
“I’m just goin’ t’get some air,” Sev growled.
On the street, Sev saw a group of lowlifes surrounding a small young woman. She was obviously frightened, and they obviously didn’t care. They had the look of wolves about them. Sev couldn’t abide their harassing the girl. He strode across the street to the group, stepping into the circle and attempting to shield the young girl. “What’s the problem?” he asked, hoping they could see the challenge in his emerald eyes.
“Nuffink t’do wiv you, boy,” the largest of the hooligans answered.
“I disagree,” Sev stated. “How ’bout ye fellas turn round and leave this girl be?” The men surrounding the girl regarded one another for a long confused moment before they all started laughing.
“And wot’re you goin’ t’do about it, friend?” The leader injected every ounce of sarcasm he could in his last word.
“Whatever it takes, friend.” Sev spit the last word back in the man’s face. The group hooted and chuckled at Sev’s defiance. “Get yerself safe,” Sev told the young girl. To her credit, she didn’t question him, just dashed off without a word.
“Now ye’ve done it. That little morsel was tonight’s entertainment. Whatever will we do now?” The hooligan flexed a hand, knuckles popping. His mates murmured responses, moving to outflank Sev. The next moment seemed to stretch interminably as Rat watched the group of degenerates with Sev at the center until two of the hooligans could wait no longer. They dove at Sev, but he dropped to the street, kicking out with his feet and bashing two of the gang members’ ankles. The men instantly dropped to the cobbled ground as their comrades smashed into each other above Sev’s head. Sev flipped to his back and punched upward with both hands, knocking the two men who had lunged at him unconscious. The leader bellowed in anger with four of his mates out of the fight. The last two stood dumbfounded on either side of their leader. Sev kicked out with both feet, sending the ruffian in charge flying. Sev rose, ready to fight. The two remaining hooligans exchanged a worried glance before turning tail and running.
“How ’bout that?” Sev asked, smirking. Rat opened his mouth to answer when a shrill whistle pierced the night air.
“Well, vat’s quite impressive, Mr. Seven,” a tinny, cockney voice drifted from an alley. Steam hissed, and the metallic clank of a Steamcoat’s footsteps resounded as the soldier stepped into the circle of light cast by the gas lamp. “Wot? Nuffink witty t’say? ’At’s not surprisin’.” The man in the metal suit smiled a crooked, yellow smile. His pockmarked face was moist with sweat or steam, and maliciousness shone in his beady little eyes. He smacked one metal fist into the other. “Time t’pay th’piper.” The Steamcoat lumbered toward Sev. He sidestepped the attack easily.
The soldier in the steamsuit stopped and turned for another attack when a dark shape emerged from the opposite side of the street. A resounding clang of metal filled the air as the new participant punched the Steamcoat. Sev recognized the bushy beard and stovepipe hat. Kettlebent and the Steamcoat traded devastating blows. Sev couldn’t believe a man could endure the punishment Kettlebent was taking, even as he dished out similar force. The Steamcoat gambled, pressing the advantage of his more impressive bulk, but Kettlebent was ready, dropping back, then rolling, using the Steamcoat’s momentum against the bastard and tossing the soldier into a nearby building. The Steamie landed with a crash and a pop as something ruptured. The man crumpled into a heap of metal and flesh.
Kettlebent turned his goggled eyes on Sev, and he squared his stance and prepared for the imminent attack from his bearded foe. To his surprise, Kettlebent straightened and held out a hand. “You need to come with me.”
“What?” Sev blurted.
“We have to get out of here. It won’t be long before someone comes looking for this one,” Kettlebent indicated the unconscious Steamcoat.
“What about Rat?” Sev asked as he looked around the street for Midnight’s pet urchin. The filthy street boy was nowhere to be found.
“There’s no time to worry about him now. You have to come with me.” Kettlebent winced as he straightened.
“Why should I trust ye?”
“You shouldn’t,” Kettlebent conceded. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come with me. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe.” Kettlebent lifted his goggles, revealing eyes the crisp gray of the sky above Fairside. Sev’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of them. “You have my word,” Kettlebent stated. Looking into that steely gaze, Sev knew it was the truth.
“Fine, let’s go,” he said and indicated Kettlebent should lead the way. The dark man dashed off, but Sev stopped him. “Wait. I need my gun and things.”
“Hurry,” Kettlebent answered. Sev scrambled into the flat and retrieved his weapons and gear. He rejoined Kettlebent on the street. “Good. Follow me.” Kettlebent ran off awkwardly with Sev trailing.
They’d been snaking through alleys and side streets for nearly twenty minutes, when Sev started getting impatient. He was sure they had circled back a couple times. “Where the hell’re we goin’?” he finally asked. Instead of answering, Kettlebent waved the question away. Sev’s guide darted into the courtyard of an abandoned orphanage, where he pushed aside a sewer grate.
“Here,” Kettlebent instructed. “I had to make sure we weren’t followed.” He dropped through the portal. “Come on,” his voice echoed from below. Sev scanned the area, unsure of his next move. Once he dropped into that hole, there would be no turning back, like the gates of Hades or the mouth of hell itself. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Sev shrugged, cracked his neck, and dropped through the hole. Kettlebent reached up and dragged the grate back into place.
SEV imagined the Steamcoats mobilizing, systematically searching Blackside for the men who had attacked their comrade. Meanwhile, beneath their feet, Sev and Kettlebent picked their way through dank, serpentine tunnels. It was cool, and the stench was nauseating. Periodically, Sev heard shouts and gunshots. He hoped the bastards weren’t hurting innocent Blacksiders because of his actions. He looked worriedly at the dripping ceiling. “Where are we going?” he asked Kettlebent for the sixth time.
“Somewhere safe. Important,” the dark man answered. “We’re almost there.” Kettlebent had removed his hat and was loping through the tunnels nearly bent in half. Sev needed to duck his head once in a while to avoid lower portions of the roof, but for the most part he could walk comfortably. Kettlebent’s seemingly random twists and turns evened out as Sev noticed pipes running from side tunnels into what he now thought of as the main tunnel.
“What are the pipes for?” Sev asked.
“We needed resources. Water. Gas. We had to pull it from various sources so that no one noticed too much coming from a few,” Kettlebent explained. He hadn’t replaced his hat, but he was walking upright again. At that point, Sev realized the sewage pipes and service tunnels had given way to something more like a mine shaft with periodic wooden braces. In the previous tunnels, light had filtered through vents from the surface, but here the only light came from odd patches of softly glowing moss. Sev had never seen anything like it, but he found the sickly light oddly discomforting.
Kettlebent and the tunnel came to an abrupt stop. Sev almost bumped into the larger man. “What?” Sev asked. His voice sounded too loud, and he heard his words bounce back. “What happened? What’s wrong, Kettlebent?”
“Nothing,” he replied as he reached into his coat.
“But.” Sev frowned and pointed at the wall bisected by a single pipe with a large valve. “There’s nowhere t’go.”
“Isn’t there?” Kettlebent asked and produced an overlarge wrought iron key. He turned to the valve and flipped open a cap on the center to reveal a keyhole. Sev watched as Kettlebent turned the key and spun the valve wheel. Sev heard the grinding of gears and the stone wall slid inward, revealing another corridor. “Come on, then.” Kettlebent slipped through the entrance. Sev stared for a moment before following. The gears turned, and the door resealed with a thundering finality.
THE tunnel Sev found himself in was entirely different than anything he’d seen beneath London before now. He stood on a cobbled lane. The stones of the walls were hewn from something Sev didn’t recognize, but it looked like the polished stone belonged in the museum along with the odd carvings and sculptures scattered throughout. Soft orange torchlight suffused the space from carved sconces on the walls. The vaulted hallway led the two travelers to a staircase that spiraled into the bedrock beneath Blackside. The pipes ran neatly along the ceiling as they descended.
Kettlebent’s step was swift and sure. Sev had to almost run to keep up. They moved so fast Sev didn’t have time to ponder the decor too intently. They reached the bottom of the staircase and passed beneath an archway formed by two identical tendril-faced statues, their stone-muscled arms strained as though they bore the weight of the roof. The ebony stairwell opened into one of the largest spaces Sev had ever seen. The vaulted ceiling was breathtaking. Candles and torches cast light in the circular chamber. Intricately carved reliefs adorned the floor, walls, and ceiling with a strange iron cage in the center. A cable extended from the peak of the cage. Sev’s stomach flipped. The scenes depicted in the tiles were odd and disturbing. He tried not to look at them as Kettlebent marched to the cage.
“Seven,” Kettlebent called. Sev had been staring with his mouth open at the bizarre chamber deep within the earth. He shook his head to clear it and joined his guide at the cage. “Are you well?”
“No,” Sev answered honestly. “But I’ll get there. What is this place?”
“We’re not sure, but there’s some very advanced clockwork down here. It’s one of the reasons Heph decided to use it.”
“Clockwork. Heph.” Sev could hear the words coming from his mouth, but they made no sense. Kettlebent nodded. “This is too much maybe,” Sev whispered.
“Just get in the lift. Everything will be explained.”
“Lift?” Sev asked. “What’s a lift?”
“This is. Just climb on.”
“Is it safe?” Sev wondered, eyeing the iron handle rising from the floor.
“So far,” Kettlebent said with a shrug and a smirk.
10
THE strange iron contraption rattled through hewn rock. Minutes stretched interminably, and Sev’s breath grew ragged and shallow. He’d never been afraid of enclosed spaces before, but the situation he found himself in was so very bizarre, so out of his control. He felt as though his mind would break. Just as the anxiety threatened to completely overwhelm him, the trundling cage breached the stone roof of a vast cavern. Cool, moist air filled his lungs as he gasped at the sight stretching in front of him.
“Welcome to Undertown,” Kettlebent said, placing a hand on Sev’s shoulder. Sev grabbed hold of the bars of the lift with both hands. His head was swimming, and he felt as though he might collapse.
An entire town lay sprawled beneath London. Buildings carved from the surrounding stone traced the walls. Great pillars connected floor to ceiling with streets snaking through everything. It was populated. Sev could see people moving about the underground city. He could see gears, pistons, smokestacks, and furnaces scattered throughout the space. Gaslights and torches cast uneven light on the stone structures. Instead of brass and copper like the mechanicals on the surface, everything was dark, moist, and made of iron. The only color was various dustings of rust.
“H-how?” Sev stuttered. “How can this be?” His gaze drifted over strange carvings as the lift descended, odd monstrous things like the gargoyles that loomed on the gothic structures of the world above but different somehow, worse.
“We’re not sure,” Kettlebent answered. “Heph believes it predates the Romans. He figures they never knew it was here.” The lift clanged to a halt on a stone platform above the city. A long stone staircase twisted toward the dwellings. Kettlebent opened the gate and stepped out. “Heph reckons an ancient race of men built the place. He’s found things: books, scrolls, stone tablets that suggest they were very similar to us. L’amureans, he calls them. I don’t know, but it’s here, and it’s been a boon to the cause.”
“Cause?” Sev asked. “I don’t understand.”
“I know,” Kettlebent consoled. “Heph will explain everything. Come on.” The dark man strode down the steps, replacing his hat. Sev remained in the lift. “Come on,” Kettlebent repeated.
“Where?” Sev asked, his mouth suddenly very dry.
“To my compartment.”
“Compartment?”
“It’s like a flat.”
“Oh,” Sev said, nodding.
“Step out. It’s all right,” Kettlebent said gently, waving to his guest. Sev left the lift and followed Kettlebent down the stairway into the underground city.
THE two men entered the outskirts of the stone dwellings, and Sev could see oddly normal activities taking place in the strange structures; washing was put out to dry, meals were cooking on fires. Sev gaped at the society surrounding him. Kettlebent marched with purpose, now and then waving or nodding to the people he passed, most of who were mere children. A few of the people were Sev’s age, and even fewer were adults. It was like something out of one of his mother’s fairy stories, an entire city of
children. “What’s going on down here?” Sev spoke the question aloud, but he wasn’t really expecting an answer.
“Revolution,” Kettlebent growled without looking at Sev or slowing his pace. They continued for a few moments before Kettlebent turned abruptly and climbed up a wall. Sev regarded the stone, finding recesses staggered along the face like a ladder. With no other options, Sev reached up and scaled the stone building in Kettlebent’s wake. The man disappeared through a curtained doorway. Sev followed.
What he found within was surprisingly cozy. Warm light filled the space. A tiny table sat off to the left. The center of the room was dominated by a fire pit, straddled by a cooking pot. A pantry cupboard and thick butcher table sat along one wall, with pots and pans hanging from the ceiling among dried herbs. Sev wondered how herbs could dry in the moist underground environment. A large, comfortable-looking chair sat near the pit. A curtain covered an entrance to another room. A few framed sketches decorated the walls. They were complicated mechanical designs. Kettlebent unbuttoned his coat.
“Sorry,” he said as he placed the garment on a peg. “I’ve got to get out of this blasted thing.” Sev gasped when he saw what lay beneath the frock coat. Kettlebent’s torso and arms were caged in some sort of metal framework with strange bands stretched around various points. He suddenly dropped his pants and Sev yelped. “What’s wrong Seven?” Kettlebent asked with a smirk. A similar apparatus surrounded the man’s legs. Kettlebent freed his hands and unbuckled himself from the metal over-skeleton. He stepped out of the contraption and stood in front of Sev. The two men were now the same height. Kettlebent removed his hat and goggles to reveal those enchanting gray eyes. The strange man walked over and placed the articles on a sideboard before reaching up and removing the bushy beard as well.
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