The Cheater's Game: Glass and Steele, #7

by C. J. Archer

  A resounding knock on the main door echoed through the building. "It's like Oxford Street here tonight," the porter muttered, heading off.

  Once he was out of sight, Cyclops and Willie emerged from the shadows near the service door. With Willie dressed in the same outfit as me, she should pass for me unless the porter was particularly observant. Since he hadn't looked at my face, I hoped he wouldn't notice the switch. It was only our difference in heights that set us apart. We were counting on the fact that people rarely observed servants and workers such as deliverymen very closely.

  Willie gave me a nod, and Matt pecked my forehead. Then they wordlessly returned to the cart to offload the fake delivery. I cracked open the door through which the porter had gone. Cyclops leaned over me and we both peered through the gap toward the main entrance, where Duke engaged the porter in discussion. With the false beard and thick European accent, I hardly recognized him.

  "What's that then?" the porter asked, loudly and slowly. "I can't understand you. Speak English."

  I opened the door wider and crept into the hall, Cyclops at my heels. The regular tick tock of the long case clock helped settle my nerves a little, even though everything could still go wrong at this point. Not only could the porter turn around and see us, but we could meet someone on the stairs and be trapped. Despite the late hour, and the fact there were no meetings tonight, there would be at least one guild member present to supervise Ronnie's test. Hopefully that person wouldn't remain in the testing room with him.

  "No, no, sir." Duke's voice rose high, warning us of the porter's growing restlessness with the nonsensical conversation. "You do not understand. Listen."

  I picked up my pace and dared not look back. We reached the second floor without being seen from below or passing anyone on the stairs. It was darker here, the only light coming from the gaps around the door to the testing room at the end of the corridor. I'd never taken the test myself. My application hadn't even been considered. I used to believe that was because I was a woman. I now knew it was because I was a magician, although I expected the Court of Assistants were misogynists as well. It would be interesting to see if Catherine would ever be allowed to sit the test.

  Cyclops took up position in the storeroom opposite the testing room. He kept the door open just enough to watch for anyone coming along the corridor. In the darkness, he was invisible.

  I carefully twisted the handle of the testing room door and opened it a mere sliver. I could just make out Ronnie sitting at a desk, his face glowing in the lamplight. Beyond him stood another man, his back to me. I waited until he turned, and when I did, I reeled back.

  Abercrombie.

  I should have known he'd be the one to supervise Ronnie, but it was still a shock. He'd be more suspicious and vigilant than other guild members.

  I looked again, but Abercrombie had moved out of my line of sight. Ronnie bent over the workbench, an Oriental style clock in front of him with the housing open. I'd never seen anything quite like it, with its golden dragon decorations, filigree mounts, and open frieze panel. He removed a cog with tweezers, inspected it, and replaced it.

  "Having trouble?" Abercrombie asked from somewhere to my left.

  "No." Ronnie smiled at him. "Just getting started."

  "Time's ticking. You might want to leave that if you're having trouble and take a look at the paper."

  Ronnie dutifully turned his attention to the paper on the table. He read it and wrote something down in pencil.

  I joined Cyclops in the storeroom and waited.

  Nothing happened. No sounds came from further along the corridor or the staircase. I couldn't even hear a single clock ticking, even though the hall was full of them. The testing room was quite separate from the guild's dining hall, meeting rooms and service area.

  Finally, the porter appeared, his strides long and fast. He muttered under his breath as he knocked on the testing room door.

  Abercrombie opened it and scowled. "What is it?"

  "There's a foreign watchmaker downstairs, sir, says he needs to speak to you." The porter leaned in and lowered his voice. "Something about magicians in his own country. He says he heard you're having similar problems here and wants to discuss a solution. At least, I think that's what he wants. His accent's real strong."

  Abercrombie looked behind him to Ronnie. Then with a huff of breath, he opened the door wider. "Stay here. Make sure he doesn't cheat."

  "I'm not going to cheat," came Ronnie's voice. "How can I?"

  The porter and Abercrombie swapped places. I watched as Abercrombie pocketed his pince-nez and hurried off along the corridor, carrying a lantern.

  Cyclops waited for him to leave before he slipped out of the storeroom. He gave me a small nod and headed the same way. Once he was near the end of the corridor, he banged his fist on the wall.

  The porter poked his head around the door and glanced toward the sound, but Cyclops had disappeared into the dense darkness at the end of the hallway. Just as the porter was about to return inside the testing room, another bang echoed along the corridor, followed by a raven's caw.

  The porter clicked his tongue, glanced back inside the room, and said, "Stay here." He emerged and hurried down the corridor, plunging into the darkness.

  I slipped into the testing room.

  Ronnie's face lit up. "Thank God. This clock is defeating me. And these questions… I've managed half, but the rest are impossible without my study books." Even as he spoke, he folded up the paper and handed it to me before removing another paper from his pocket. He spread that out on the desk while I tucked the real test into my coat pocket.

  Then I went to work on the clock. It was an exquisite and quite rare triple fusee bracket clock with the loveliest detail. Internally, it was one of the more difficult mechanisms I'd seen, but most clockmakers could fix it if the right tools and parts had been supplied.

  "He has given you the wrong sized cogs," I said.

  "I knew something wasn't right! The bloody cheat."

  "Tell him when he returns that—" I spotted some boxes stamped with Compton's Metalworks's mark on a shelf. I opened one, then another and another, until I found what I needed. I handed Ronnie the box. "Try these."

  "Thanks, India. You'd better go before the porter gets back."

  I patted the pocket with the test paper and made to leave, only to stop dead when I heard voices. Both Abercrombie and the porter were returning, and I was trapped in the room. My stomach dropped. There was nowhere to hide. If they entered, I would be seen.

  Ronnie had heard the voices too. He stared at the door, frozen. The voices stopped just outside. The handle turned.

  Hell.

  "I don't care what you heard, you shouldn't have left your post," Abercrombie was saying.

  The door opened wider and I slipped behind it, flattening myself to the wall.

  "It's them ravens again, sir," the porter said. "They've been pecking away at the window frames. If we don't scare them off, they'll destroy the wood."

  "Did you see them?"

  "They must have flown off when I opened the window."

  "I asked you to stay here," Abercrombie growled.

  "He didn't cheat. Look, he's still here."

  Long, fine fingers grasped the edge of the door. "Return to your station. If that foreigner comes back, tell him to go away. That's if he is a foreigner."

  "What else would he be?"

  "A friend to Mr. Mason, here."

  Ronnie looked up from the desk, all smiles. "You've given me a real difficult task with this clock, sir. It's a fine piece, though. Real fine. I'm sure I'll fix it. I don't like to let things beat me."

  "You only have fifteen more minutes."

  Footsteps retreated along the corridor as the porter left. Soon Abercrombie would be back inside and closing the door. I squeezed my eyes shut and wished I could disappear into the wall at my back. With my heart in my throat, I waited for the inevitable confrontation.

  A series of knocks
and raven calls sounded along the corridor. I opened my eyes just as Abercrombie swore.

  "What the devil?" He must be standing just outside the door, too close for me to escape.

  Ronnie shook his head at me. I was right; Abercrombie hadn't moved away.

  I waited, my heart beating a warning in my throat, making it hard to breathe, hard to concentrate. I remained where I was, certain that my heartbeat could be heard as clearly as Cyclops's knocks.

  "It's that bloody raven, sir!" the porter shouted. He sounded like he was far down the corridor. "I think it's inside! Christ, it just bloody swooped me. Where'd it go?"

  "That's not a bird," Abercrombie said.

  Ronnie waved at me from the desk and mouthed, "Go."

  I hesitated. I hadn't heard Abercrombie's footsteps retreat. I emerged from behind the door and peered into the corridor.

  Abercrombie stood a mere three feet away, his back to me. He held the lamp high but its circle of light didn't extend far. The end of the corridor was in darkness.

  "What's going on?" he called out. Clearly he wasn't going to venture further to see for himself. He wasn't willing to risk leaving Ronnie alone.

  I had to take this opportunity. If he turned around, he would see me, and I was certain he would turn any moment. The knocks, made by Cyclops, seemed to grow more distant.

  I tiptoed out of the testing room and slipped into the storeroom. I closed the door but not all the way, stopping just as Abercrombie turned around. Thanks to the poor light, he didn't notice the door ajar, and he re-entered the testing room.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and crumpled to the floor. My knees were suddenly too weak to hold me. I removed the test sheet from my pocket but it was too dark to see it. I'd spotted a lamp near the door and reached up to unhook it, but the door sprang open.

  I fell back but was saved from toppling into the shelves by a strong arm circling my waist. Matt's familiar scent enveloped me as thoroughly as his arm.

  "You scared me," I said on a breath. "Where's Cyclops?"

  "Doing his best raven impersonation. Willie was right. They do have a raven problem here." He struck a match and lit a candle he must have brought with him. "We have to hurry. The test is due to end soon."

  I read through the test paper, completing the questions Ronnie couldn't and checking his answers on the others. He'd got one wrong but I decided to leave it for authenticity.

  "Do you know how he's faring with the practical part of the test?" Matt asked.

  "He'll be fine. We have to get this back to him."

  "Leave it to me. Ready?"

  I kissed him on the lips then blew out the candle. "Ready."

  Matt opened the storeroom door a fraction and knocked on it. Abercrombie emerged from the testing room and peered into the darkness. He frowned in our direction, and I had the sickening feeling he'd seen us.

  "Sir," said Ronnie from within. "Sir, I've finished the clock. I was right. You'd given me the wrong parts, but these cogs fit. Think I'll just have a quick stretch of my legs while I read the rest of these questions. Mr. Abercrombie, sir, can you check the clock?

  Abercrombie returned inside and closed the door. Precisely ten seconds later, I slipped the corner of the test paper underneath it.

  Ronnie yawned loudly on the other side. He sounded very close. Good. He'd timed it perfectly and followed the plan precisely. The rest of the paper suddenly disappeared, pulled through the gap between door and floor.

  Matt took my hand and together we raced along the corridor. It was up to Ronnie now to swap one paper for the other without Abercrombie noticing. We could do nothing more.

  We paused at the top of the stairs to listen. The guild hall was silent except for the ticking of the long case clock. Matt tugged on my hand and we hurried downstairs, stepping lightly.

  The porter suddenly appeared in the entrance hall below. "Them bloody ravens," he muttered.

  Matt and I stopped. The entrance hall was lit by two lamps but the light didn't reach us. It was dark enough on the stairs that the porter might not see us if we stayed very still. Of course, if he decided to climb the stairs, our ruse would be ruined, and all the planning and tonight's adventure would be for naught. We could pretend we'd become lost after our delivery, but if the porter mentioned the incident to Abercrombie, he'd know it was us and what we'd done.

  "Now where could it have gone?" the porter said, scratching his head. "I'm sure I heard it down here."

  I held my breath and squeezed Matt's hand. He squeezed back, but there was nothing more he could do. We were trapped on the stairs, utterly exposed.

  Chapter 19

  A raven cawed. It sounded like it came from the back of the building, near the kitchen.

  "Bloody hell," the porter muttered. "The devil take you, wretched beast. Where are you?" His footsteps receded and the entrance was clear.

  I breathed again.

  Matt tugged on my hand, and together we crept down the rest of the stairs, tiptoed across the tiled floor, and exited the building. We ran. The task was much easier in men's clothing than women's and I was able to take long strides. I felt giddy and my heart beat wildly, not just because of the exertion. We had achieved what we'd set out to do, and Abercrombie was none the wiser.

  We rounded the corner, almost colliding with Willie and Duke, who were waiting with the cart.

  "Well?" Willie asked.

  I beamed at her. "Success!"

  "Here comes Cyclops," Matt said as he peered back down Warwick Lane.

  "It was so thrilling!" I said. "Duke, you were marvelous. Your accent was…unique."

  Duke grinned, causing the false beard to detach from the left side of his jaw and hang loosely.

  Willie snorted. "It was unique because it didn't sound like anything. What were you supposed to be? Prussian? French?"

  "Worldly," Duke said, smoothing the beard back in place.

  Cyclops joined us, all smiles. "That was close. The porter almost walked right into me. I had to brush his cheek to make him think it was fluttering wings. He yelped like a puppy."

  I threw my arms around him. "Thank goodness you're safe. We're all safe."

  Cyclops chuckled. "Thank the lord for making that porter as stupid as a brick."

  Matt cleared his throat. "Don't I get a hug?"

  I propelled myself into his arms. He caught me, laughing.

  "We better get going," Willie said. "Staying near the scene of a crime is a sure way to get caught. I learned that the hard way."

  I took Matt's hand. "And tomorrow's the eve of our wedding. We have a lot of things to do."

  "We do?" Matt asked. "I thought I just had to arrive at church on time on the appointed day."

  "With the rings," I added. "And your suit pressed, shoes shined, and hair trimmed. Those are your tasks for tomorrow. Oh, and packing for your overnight stay at Brown's Hotel."

  "Don't worry, India," Duke said. "Cyclops and me will see he looks presentable."

  Matt placed his arm around my shoulders and drew me in for a friendly hug, as I'd seen him do with Duke and Cyclops many times. "Don't worry, dearest fiancée. I'll be fine. You're the one spending all day with Willie and my aunt."

  "Aye," Willie said on a groan. "And we'll be doing women's things. It's going to be hell."

  "I'm looking forward to it," I said. "If nothing else, keeping you and Miss Glass from irritating one another will take my mind off my nerves."

  Matt slowed his pace, allowing the others to walk ahead. "Are you nervous about marrying?"

  "I'm nervous about the wedding. I'm not used to being the center of attention. But I'm not nervous about marrying you. Not in the least."

  He scooped me tighter to his side and planted a breath-stealing kiss on my lips, though it ended all too quickly. "I admit to being nervous too," he said as we continued on, arm in arm.

  "About being the center of attention?"

  "About the wedding night."

  Thank goodness for poor street lighting.
I didn't want him to see my reddening cheeks. "I'm sure you'll be fine," I quipped.

  "It's not my performance I'm worried about." His voice was light and full of humor. He wasn't taking this conversation at all seriously, which was just as well. I was anxious enough about the wedding night. I didn't want him being nervous too. "It's your reaction to seeing it that worries me. You'll be shocked."

  I laughed but quickly swallowed it. Men probably didn't like women laughing about their manhood. "I promise not to act shocked."

  "You say that now, but you might not be able to hide your reaction. It's quite ugly, really. You might be overwhelmed."

  "I'll try not to faint at the sight of it. Besides, I'm sure ugly is too strong a word. I may not be an expert but I have seen them before. In diagrams, of course, not in real life."

  "You've seen diagrams? Where?"

  "Books about nature and that sort of thing." Good lord, were we really having this conversation? At least the others couldn't hear. They'd be in fits of laughter.

  "They put diagrams of bullet wounds in books about nature? Clearly you've read different books to me."

  Bullet wounds! Oh. The devil. I thumped his shoulder. "Very amusing."

  "My, my, India Steele, what were you talking about?"

  "You'd better stop now or I might find I have a headache on our wedding night. You'll have to wait before I see your…bullet wound."

  He laughed softly. "You win."

  After the wedding ceremony, I found I couldn't recall all of the details. I remembered our first kiss as man and wife but not the signing of the register. I remembered how Matt had looked when he first saw me, because I'd never seen him look overwhelmed, happy, and awed all at once. But the rest of the ceremony passed in a fog.

  Had I spoken the vows clearly? Did all of our invited guests come? Did Cyclops and Catherine look at one another? Had the sun been shining as I entered the church? It was certainly sunny afterward as we stood on the steps, receiving congratulations as man and wife.