Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2)

by Karen Kincy

  “Yes.” Konstantin thinned his lips. “Ardis, would you show us your arm?”

  When Ardis stood, her chair screeched on the floor. She resisted the urge to wince and managed to look stoic, like a mercenary should. She unwrapped the bandage and raised her arm. The sting had faded to a purplish welt.

  “The clockwork wasp stung my arm,” Ardis said. “It felt like a normal sting.”

  “Though the doctor found something abnormal,” Konstantin said.

  Ardis lowered her arm. “The sting started itching. Badly. When I went to the doctor, she cut out a clockwork larva.”

  The men grimaced and leaned away. Ardis was secretly satisfied by their disgust.

  “Thank you, Ardis,” Konstantin said. “I believe the clockwork larva acted as a tracking device and betrayed our position to the Russians. Unfortunately, I didn’t come to this realization until the clockwork dragon attacked.”

  Margareta steepled her fingers with a look of grim scrutiny.

  “How large was the clockwork dragon?” she said.

  “Approximately twenty meters long,” Konstantin said.

  “Airspeed?”

  “As fast as our zeppelin. At least.”

  A man in an American uniform cleared his throat. He had an impressive beard, dark and streaked with silver.

  “Yes, Captain Hobson?” Margareta said.

  “By our estimate,” the American said, “the top airspeed of the clockwork dragon would be about eighty miles per hour.”

  Captain Hobson spoke correct German, albeit with a strong American accent.

  Konstantin squinted. “One hundred and twenty-eight kilometers per hour. Roughly.”

  “And how was the dragon powered?” Margareta said.

  “Unknown technomancy,” Konstantin said, a bit breathlessly.

  Tesla lifted his hand. “Would it be possible for me to examine the clockwork wasp?”

  Blushing, Konstantin clutched his folder to his chest. He looked rather like a student eager to please his professor.

  “Why, of course, Mr. Tesla,” he said.

  “Is the specimen here in Vienna?” Tesla said.

  “Yes, in my laboratory.” Konstantin glanced at Margareta. “Though I will bring the wasp to Prussia whenever we leave.”

  “You leave today,” Margareta said.

  “Already?”

  “Captain Hobson will fly you to Prussia on the USS Jupiter. In exchange, you will give Tesla a tour of Project Lazarus upon arrival.”

  Konstantin’s eyebrows shot skyward. “When was this decided?”

  “Earlier this morning.” Margareta pursed her lips. “Do you object?”

  “No, not at all!” Konstantin stammered. “I would be honored to show Mr. Tesla the prototypes. Though I may require a little time to prepare the laboratory, since I’m afraid I left it in a rather disorganized state.”

  Tesla leaned with his hand on his mouth, though it didn’t entirely hide his smile.

  “Rest assured,” he said, “I’m sure I will be too fascinated by your inventions.”

  Konstantin’s blush deepened to scarlet. He seemed to be holding his breath.

  “I hope the archmage doesn’t faint,” Wendel whispered.

  Ardis shot him a look. She hoped he behaved himself until the end of the debriefing.

  “On the behalf of the archmages,” Margareta said, “we would like to thank Captain Hobson and the crew of the USS Jupiter for rescuing the survivors from the Wanderfalke. Your courage will not be forgotten.”

  “We wish we could have done more,” Captain Hobson said.

  Margareta met his gaze. “I can’t speak for the empire, but I suspect Austria-Hungary would welcome an alliance with America.”

  Captain Hobson nodded. “The USS Jupiter casts off from Aspern Airfield at noon.”

  “Excellent,” Margareta said. “Archmage Konstantin, you will be responsible for transferring your team to the airship.” She glanced at Wendel when she said this, and Ardis knew they needed the necromancer.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Konstantin said.

  Margareta stood. “That concludes this debriefing.”

  Everyone shoved their chairs from the table. Ardis lingered, biting the inside of her cheek, and watched Margareta leave.

  “Ardis?” Wendel said.

  “I need to talk to Margareta,” she said. “Alone.”

  “Ah,” he said. “About Constantinople?”

  “Among other things.”

  Konstantin clapped Ardis on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

  Her stomach somersaulted. “You aren’t coming? To vouch for me?”

  “My money is on you,” he said.

  “I wish I shared your confidence.”

  Konstantin smiled for a fleeting moment. Then he sobered.

  “I’m off to the hospital,” he said. “To see Himmel.”

  “Could you wait for me?” Ardis said. “I would like to go with you, and this shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  “Certainly. Meet me by the doors.”

  They walked into the hallway together.

  Wendel tapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll be with the archmage.”

  After they left her alone, Ardis let out her breath in a sigh. She straightened her jacket, combed her hair with her fingers, and squared her shoulders. Then she strode to Margareta’s office and knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Margareta said.

  Ardis stepped into the office. For some reason her heartbeat thumped in her ears.

  “Ma’am,” she said.

  “Ardis,” Margareta said. “I was surprised to see you at the debriefing.”

  That stung, but Ardis disguised it with a nod.

  “Understandable,” Ardis said. “I told Archmage Konstantin why I went to Constantinople, but I wasn’t sure if he informed you.”

  Margareta’s blue eyes glinted. “Falkenrath told me everything. I know exactly why you went gallivanting off to Constantinople, though I’m not entirely sure why you left all of your common sense behind in Vienna.”

  Heat spread across Ardis’s cheeks.

  “Sit,” Margareta said.

  Ardis did as she was told, though she felt rather like a disobedient dog.

  “I understand the appeal,” Margareta said. “The necromancer is too handsome for his own good, and his past is quite tragic.”

  This was awkward. Ardis tried not to squirm.

  Margareta didn’t blink. “But this sort of behavior brings your loyalty into question.”

  “Ma’am,” Ardis said, “I don’t—”

  “One moment.” Margareta lifted her finger. “Falkenrath informed me that you and Wendel journeyed to Constantinople to find a technomancer. You needed him to perform a countercurse. Is this correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Margareta steepled her hands. “And then you detoured to the Order of the Asphodel?”

  Ardis swallowed hard. Somehow her mouth had stopped producing saliva.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  “What happened?”

  Ardis rubbed her thumbnail over her lip. She didn’t see how lying would help her here, but honesty seemed like a blunt weapon.

  “Wendel wanted revenge,” Ardis said. “Thorsten Magnusson was at the top of his list.”

  “And you helped him?” Margareta said.

  “I did.” Ardis didn’t blink. “I wasn’t about to let him attack Thorsten alone.”

  Margareta’s stare was cool but relentlessly scrutinizing.

  “Do you believe the necromancer wanted to die?” the archmage said.

  Ardis curled her fingers into fists. She found it hard to look at Margareta.

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “So you stopped him?”

  “No.” Ardis pressed her fingernails into her palms. “I couldn’t.”

  “Explain.”

  Ardis sucked in a slow breath. “Wendel lost the fight. Thorsten stabbed him in the heart, then thre
w him from the top of the tower. When I found Wendel, he was dead. Undeniably. But as you may have heard, he didn’t stay dead. Earlier, without telling me, Wendel lent me some of his necromancy. I revived him myself.”

  Margareta’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Fascinating.”

  Were all the archmages concerned only with magic?

  “Ma’am,” Ardis said. “With all due respect, I didn’t come here today to talk about Wendel or Wendel’s mistakes.”

  Margareta leaned back in her chair. “I don’t see how it’s irrelevant.”

  “I don’t see how his actions should define my career.”

  Margareta sniffed. “You helped him every step of the way.”

  “I tried to stop him every step of the way.” Ardis forced herself to speak in a calm voice. “I’m nobody’s sidekick.”

  “Weren’t you Wendel’s companion?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating,” Ardis said.

  Margareta sighed. “Ardis, I would recommend avoiding romantic entanglements. Particularly while on a mission.”

  “Well, it’s too late for that.” Ardis tacked on a hasty, “Ma’am.”

  Margareta leaned with her elbows on her desk.

  “I don’t demand chastity,” she said. “This is hardly a convent.”

  Ardis twisted her mouth to disguise a smile.

  “But don’t let lust distract you,” Margareta said. “Your loyalty should be to the archmages first and foremost.”

  “Which is why I’m here,” Ardis said. “Can we talk business?”

  “Will your interactions with the necromancer remain professional?”

  Ardis ran her tongue over her teeth and thought for a moment.

  “While I’m on the job,” she said. “Will that be enough?”

  Margareta sighed. “I suppose it will have to be. You show promise, Ardis, and I would hate to let you go to a competitor.”

  “Thank you,” Ardis said.

  “Your work in Transylvania has been especially valuable to us.”

  Ardis met her gaze. “I appreciate the compliment, ma’am, but I don’t want to go back to Transylvania. I want to go to Prussia.”

  “Prussia?” Margareta nodded slowly. “We do need more automaton test pilots.”

  “Ma’am.” Ardis sat even straighter. “I would love to be a pilot.”

  “Konstantin did say you showed remarkable aptitude.” Margareta pursed her lips. “You do, however, have one major obstacle.”

  Sweat dampened Ardis’s hands. “What would that be?”

  “You left Natalya lying on the snow, in a cemetery, pinned by her own sword.”

  Ardis tried not to wince. “She pistol-whipped me on the Diesel mission.”

  “I remember that very well.”

  “Natalya and I haven’t always seen eye to eye.”

  Margareta puckered her lips. “With such a violent track record, I’m not sure the two of you should work together.”

  Ardis’s stomach plummeted. “Natalya will be in Prussia?”

  “She already is. She commands the automaton pilots.”

  God, there was no avoiding Natalya.

  “I can do this.” Ardis squared her shoulders. “I can work under Natalya’s command. Give me a chance to prove myself.”

  Margareta stared at Ardis in silence. The corner of her mouth twitched.

  “You won’t have to prove yourself to me,” she said. “Report to Natalya in Prussia.”

  Ardis exhaled. “I won’t disappoint the archmages.”

  Margareta stood and shook Ardis’s hand. She had a firm grip.

  “One small thing before you go,” the archmage said.

  Margareta slid open a drawer and took out something long wrapped in cloth. She set it on the desk and meticulously unwrapped the cloth. A sharkskin scabbard held a sword with a red tassel dangling from its pommel.

  Ardis’s breath caught in her throat. “Chun Yi.”

  Ardis gripped the sharkskin hilt and drew her sword in one sweep. The steel ignited with a rush of golden fire. She felt the flames not as heat, but as an electricity in the palm of her hand that hummed through her bones.

  Margareta eyed the sword with wary curiosity.

  “It arrived an hour ago from Bulgaria,” she said. “It’s a pity I didn’t have more time to examine the enchantment. Quite old, quite odd magic. Perhaps, in the future, you might lend it to the archmages for study.”

  Ardis sheathed her sword. “Perhaps.”

  “Good luck in Prussia,” Margareta said. “Try not to damage any prototypes.”

  Ardis sensed an unspoken, “This time,” since they had brought a prototype into battle without permission from any of the archmages except Konstantin. Still, that couldn’t be too damning if Ardis had her job back.

  “Thank you,” Ardis said again.

  Margareta granted her a rare smile. “Teach those Russians a lesson.”

  “I will, ma’am.”

  Ardis walked out the door with her scabbard in hand. Outside the office, she buckled it to her belt and adjusted it so it hung just right. She strode down the hallway with her head held high. Wendel and Konstantin waited by the doors. They loitered an arm’s length from each other, uneasy in each other’s company.

  “I take it things went well?” Konstantin said.

  “Brace yourself,” Ardis said. “She assigned me to be an automaton test pilot in Prussia. I’ll try not to scratch your babies.”

  Konstantin laughed, though he winced with his eyebrows.

  “I trust you more than most,” he said.

  Wendel feigned innocence. “Don’t look at me.”

  Ardis pushed through the doors to the outside. Snow whirled into her face and tossed her hair, but it couldn’t blow the grin from her face.

  ~

  The moment she set foot in the hospital, Ardis felt her stomach twist into a familiar knot. Even here in the grand atrium, with its potted palms and cathedral ceiling, the stink of disinfectant lingered in the air. Wendel’s shoulders stiffened, and he seemed reluctant to enter. Likely due to his proximity with the dying.

  “Excuse me,” Konstantin said to the receptionist. “We would like to visit someone.”

  The receptionist glanced into his eyes. “The name of the patient?”

  “Himmel.”

  She scanned a clipboard. “Theodore Himmel?”

  “Theodore?” Konstantin stumbled over the name.

  The receptionist squinted. “Your relationship to the patient?”

  “Professional.” Konstantin’s hands left sweaty fingerprints on the desk. “Captain Himmel commands a zeppelin for the archmages. Commanded, that is. He went down with his ship and suffered injuries. Can we see him?”

  The receptionist inspected his edelweiss pin and tapped her pen on the desk.

  “Theodore Himmel is on the first floor,” she said, “in Room 102. Through those doors, down the hall, and on your right.”

  They followed her directions. The door to Room 102 stood ajar.

  Konstantin hesitated, then rapped his knuckles on the frame.

  “Enter,” Himmel said.

  The room was small and bare, with a brass bed and a single chair by the window. Himmel sat in the chair and stared out at the manicured evergreens. His right arm hung in a sling. He lifted his head and looked at them.

  “Morning,” Himmel said.

  Konstantin nodded and pressed his lips together. He didn’t seem to know what to say.

  “How are you feeling?” Ardis said.

  Himmel grunted.

  Nobody had brought him gifts or flowers, not even notes of sympathy, and Ardis folded her arms to hide her empty hands.

  “You look a little better,” she said.

  “Do I?” Himmel said.

  Ardis studied his face. “Less pale, at least.”

  Wendel dropped onto the bed and crossed his legs. He leaned back on his hands.

  “We were worried about you,” he said. “Old Teddy, our deare
st friend.”

  “Teddy?” Himmel nearly snarled the word. “Who told you that?”

  “The receptionist,” Wendel said smoothly.

  His ears crimson, Konstantin smoothed his hair, though his curls didn’t cooperate.

  “Your name is Theodore?” he said.

  “Unfortunately,” Himmel said.

  “Oh.” Konstantin coughed. “I rather like the name Theodore.”

  The captain stared at the archmage. It was hard to say whose face was redder.

  “I like Teddy,” Wendel said.

  Himmel rose from his chair. “I can still knock you out with one arm.”

  Konstantin stopped Himmel with a hand on his chest.

  “Gentlemen!” the archmage said. “This is a hospital.”

  “He’s no gentleman,” Himmel said.

  “True,” Wendel said. “Technically, I’m royalty.”

  “You won’t be anything when I’m done with you.”

  Wendel laughed, and Himmel glared ferociously at him. The necromancer seemed glad that the captain was no longer melancholy.

  “My God,” Ardis said. “Everybody calm the hell down.”

  The three men stared at her, but she didn’t back down.

  “Himmel, you’re supposed to be wounded. Konstantin, you’re supposed to be concerned. Wendel, you’re being a bastard. Again.”

  “Am I?” Wendel said. “I thought it was rather heroic of me to save Himmel’s life.”

  “What?” Himmel said. “Konstantin, is this true?”

  Konstantin rubbed the back of his neck. “The necromancer did revive a few dead men to rescue survivors from the lake.”

  Himmel blanched. “You brought my men back?”

  Wendel’s face flipped from sarcastic to serious.

  “The dead don’t need to breathe,” he said. “They walked in and dragged you out.”

  Himmel’s chest heaved as he struggled to find words.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

  Wendel stared him down. “I should have let you drown?”

  “Christ.” With his left hand, Himmel rubbed his jaw. “You are an abomination.”

  “So I hear.”

  Ardis stepped between them. “A suggestion? Don’t start yet another vendetta. We should focus on revenge against the Russians.”

  “And the clockwork dragon,” Konstantin said.

  “I’d love to.” Himmel’s voice darkened. “The doctors say I’m all but useless. My arm, anyway. Too much damage.”