“Perhaps. Very well, Mr. LaFarge. You may accompany the two ladies to the manufactory. It is well they shall not be unescorted.”
Unescorted? Briar hadn’t required an escort since being a very small girl. Across the table, Isabella’s face was carefully neutral, but Briar didn’t doubt that she seethed inside as well. Another set of eyes that could view the glyphs and runes of her mother’s people wouldn’t be amiss, but she had serious reservations over LaFarge’s capabilities. His confidence was puffed up out of all proportion to his actual ability. Many people dissembled until they achieved true mastery in a subject. LaFarge seemed never to have gotten beyond the dissembling phase. Then again, his whole life was built upon layers of lies. How could she expect any differently?
“That was not exactly what I was thinking, my lord.” LaFarge dry-washed his hands together. “I can be more useful from here, perhaps in tracing imp activity?”
Isabella snorted inelegantly at LaFarge’s about-face. When Briar cocked an inquiring eyebrow at her, Isabella turned studious attention back to her breakfast.
“I have more than enough men who are already doing that,” the earl said. “What I need is an escort for the ladies.”
“My lord.” LaFarge stopped and swallowed hard, his face a trifle pale, his hands shaking. “I simply can not go out, not with those demons lurking. I can go over documents or look through manuscripts or grimoires, perhaps even try my hand at scrying, but I would be of no use outside these walls.”
“Very well, Monsieur LaFarge. I shall find some way to make use of your talents.” Hardwicke looked over at Briar. “In the meantime, we still need an escort for you and Miss Castel. Perhaps Johnson?”
That was an idea Briar could support. She trusted the chauffeur implicitly, and better yet, she knew he trusted her. She nodded vigorously.
The earl took her approval in stride, as if he had expected nothing different. “My reports say the factory is only half empty. Chassis production continues unabated, but there is no sign of anything non-human at the site. The team went inside the building where Miss Castel saw the engines being constructed, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, save a large piece of machinery of glass and brass. They speculate it was too large to move when the occupants left. It appears to be quite inactive.”
“Were there any sensitives in your group?” Briar asked.
“Two. They both reported no infernal energy signatures on the site, except around that machinery. Even there, they report that energy levels are falling. The area appears to be well and truly abandoned, which is good. I met with the Duke of London and Environs last night, and he is not pleased to be the target of a coup. Were it not for my request, he and his minions would be tearing apart the Mirabilia manufactory right now. It was only my assurances that his enemies have moved on which is keeping him from it now. He seeks their new lair. I imagine they will not be long for this world once he finds them.”
“Very good.” Her voice might be all cool assurance, but inside Briar shuddered. She had no desire to meet the Duke face to face. She knew him by reputation only but had no doubt that he was well aware of her existence. Her mother would have taken care of that, would have dropped hints that Briar would love to get to know him. Not only was she not going to satisfy her mother’s desire for a child from her line, but she was never going to do it with a demon of the Rage-Lands. Lust and rage fed each other too well. Briar kept herself under a tight leash at all times, but there were few who had as good a reason toward rage as she did. To lose herself to it was unthinkable. To give herself to it willingly was even worse.
Across the table, Isabella raised an eyebrow in inquiry. She must have picked up on Briar’s body language or perhaps something in her voice. The Duke was of no concern to them. He was busy and wouldn’t make an appearance, not while his rule was being threatened.
“I am fine,” Briar said. She put down the last forkful of eggs. She felt overfull, and they had work to do. The last thing she needed was to feel sluggish because she’d had too much breakfast. “And I am ready to go.”
“As am I,” Isabella said. “I will need some assistance with my rig, but beyond that I am quite prepared.”
“Excellent. Johnson will take you to the factory.”
“Very good. Hopefully we’ll find something to help put a stop to this incursion of imps.”
“That would be none too soon, I’m afraid,” Hardwicke said. “The number has doubled again. If we can’t do something about it soon, the army will be called into the city and the citizens will be evacuated. With so many people out on the street, we expect massive casualties, especially if the Duke decides to fight back. You must move and quickly.”
“Then we shall do so.” Briar stood up, not waiting for one of the footmen to draw her chair away. They were past the time for niceties.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The neighborhood looked different during the day. Certainly, it was no less grimy and the character of the people in the neighborhood hadn’t changed, but the factory seemed less imposing. Maybe it was that she knew it was empty of the things that still interrupted her sleep or maybe it was Briar’s solid presence at her elbow.
She craned her head to see out the small carriage window. The earl had insisted they use his remaining horseless. If he had to leave the house, he had other conveyances at his disposal or so he’d claimed. They’d already seen one, the zeppelin, but Isabella wondered what other vehicles he might own.
The twin smokestacks still rose from the factory, but now only one disgorged smoke above the neighborhood. The stacks extended far into the sky, even over the brick walls that ran around the manufactory compound. The walls were tall enough that naught but the tips of the factory buildings themselves were visible from the street. A small door, the same color as the bricks, was set into a wall. She supposed that was to be their point of ingress. Isabella scanned the rooflines for signs of imps, but there was nary a horn, wing, nor tail to be seen. The sun had risen during their ride across town, and it peeked between buildings, soaking the opposite of the road side in bright light. It seemed much too nice a day to be thinking about demons. And yet, zeppelins patrolled the skies, their long bodies floating into view above their heads long after she could hear the drone of their engines. The occasional booming crack of cannons had punctuated the morning stillness on their way over, driving into her the need for a swift resolution.
But there they were, two women and their chauffeur, with designs on breaking back into a factory that had been broken into two times already, but this time in broad daylight. The back of Isabella’s neck itched. This wasn’t the way it should be. They should have been holed up somewhere to make their move after dark, but circumstances drove them to incautious behavior.
The number of people on the street here was in direct contrast to the rest of the city. Some parts of London never slept, and this was one of those. Men and women made their way to and fro, heading out to work or returning, the men in their rough clothes, the women in cheap gowns hiked up to show too much leg or in shabby dresses that had seen too much wear at the sleeves and knees. In this neighborhood, if they weren’t men or workwomen, they worked on their backs. Tension shivered through them even here. With each far off thud of guns, wary eyes were cast at the skies.
“Did you see the map?” Isabella asked Briar in low tones.
“I took a quick look at it while you were being outfitted,” Briar replied. “Why?”
“How did it look?”
“Grim. The earl has his work cut out for him if he’s to tackle the problem.”
“But the spread was still much the same? The random reports, with no discernible pattern?”
“As well as I could tell.”
“Then why are there so many people out here?”
Briar took a look out the window and Isabella pressed her point.
“Most of the neighborhoods we traversed to get here were almost completely deserted. The inhabitants here seem to think no
thing at all is amiss, aside from the dirigibles.”
“By and large, humans can’t see demons. Not unless they have demon blood in them or some previous contact.”
“But they still know when something’s wrong, don’t they.” It wasn’t a question, Isabella knew from her own experience. “They stay hidden, like any animal who knows there’s a predator nearby.”
“That’s true.” Briar sat back, staring into the distance. “As I recall, the pattern was quite distinctly random, though there were many fewer occurrences in this area. Since they’re coming from the engines in the Mirabilia carriages, it only stands to reason. Few of these poor people could afford such an extravagance.”
“Surely there are engines still at the factory. What about those?” The last time she’d been here, the side yard had been full of horseless carriages. Unless they’d taken those with them when they decamped, the lack of imps in the neighborhood was troubling.
“I don’t know if it’s anything of note,” Briar said, much more cautiously. “What do you think?”
Isabella’s heart warmed, some of the tension within her chest releasing. Briar trusted her opinion. “I think we should be careful, but it’s going to make getting into the factory more difficult. There are too many witnesses, and if I go out dressed like their Spring-Heeled Jack, we could start a panic.”
Johnson slid open the window that separated his seat from the cab. “I’m leavin’ the horseless at this tavern. You ladies ready to go?”
Isabella hadn’t noticed that the carriage had stopped, another indication of her anxiety. If she’d been able to do this alone, she wouldn’t have been nearly as worried. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t know if she could trust Johnson. He seemed solid enough, and Briar had been pleased at his inclusion, but she hadn’t enough time to get a measure of the man. But Briar trusted her judgment. The least she could do was to return the courtesy until she had proof otherwise.
“Is it a long walk to the factory?” Isabella asked.
“No more than a block or two,” Johnson replied.
“I shall have to take the rooftops, then, and hope no one notices.”
“Don’t concern yourself with that,” Briar said. “I can make you less remarkable.”
“You’ll make me invisible? That would have been useful the last time I broke in to Mirabilia.”
“Not invisibility. Simply something that will make you blend in to the crowd more.”
“Oh.” Disappointment rose up in Isabella. It would have been nice to be completely undetectable. She’d asked LaFarge once if he could do that, and he’d said no, that it was impossible. If Briar couldn’t do it, the spell definitely didn’t exist. Still, it was good to know she hadn’t been keeping it from Isabella.
“Put on your helmet.”
They were almost ready. The carriage rocked slightly as Johnson alighted from his perch outside. It was almost time. Tension coiled once again in Isabella’s belly, not unlike the first curls of arousal. Adventure was what Isabella lived for, regardless of the fact that beneath the excitement lurked very real anxiety. She donned her goggles, then pulled the helmet on over her head. The goggles were jogged somewhat askew and she fussed with them, trying to get them to sit just right. It wouldn’t do to end up with a headache halfway through their investigation. Daylight streamed into the carriage’s interior as Johnson opened the door and leaned inside.
“Hold still,” Briar said. She took off one glove and licked the tips of two fingers. She traced a complicated shape on the front of the helmet, then licked her fingers again and made a circle around it. Finally, she pressed both fingers to the shape, then sat back, but not before trailing the tips of her fingers along the exposed edge of Isabella’s chin.
“Blimey!” Johnson craned his neck forward to get a closer look at Isabella’s helmet. “It’s harder to see the ’elmet. What’s that letter mean, anyway?”
“The rune means ordinary.” Briar pulled her glove back on in a quick jerk. “I’m surprised you can see it at all. Most people can’t.”
Johnson squinted at Isabella. “She looks like the lady, still, but me eyes don’t seem to want to look at her helmet.” He looked down. “Or them clothes. I can still see ’er working clothes. That won’t do neither. Those around ’ere’ll take notice of that.”
“It’s quite subjective. You’re already familiar with Isabella’s workaday clothes, so that’s what you see. Everyone will see a different version of what they consider regular apparel. It will differ from one person to the next, but to each she will be quite unremarkable.”
Johnson shook his head, still staring closely at Isabella. He closed one eye, then the other.
“Are we going to sit around and talk all day?” Isabella asked. She knew she sounded waspish but was beyond caring. “The earl is counting on us to return in a reasonable amount of time, is he not?”
Briar put one hand on her knee and squeezed gently. “We’re with you, Isabella.”
“Then let’s get this expedition underway.” She stepped past Johnson, shaking her head slightly at his extended hand. The sidewalks were narrow in the shadows of the wall. A man in a soft cap and with what looked like half a pig across his shoulders almost ran into her. He rotated his upper body to avoid striking her in the head.
“’Scuse me,” he grunted, not bothering with a second glance as soon as he was past. Briar’s charm was working after all. Not that Isabella had doubted it, but she knew the folly of trusting something before testing was complete.
Isabella looked around and noted Mirabilia’s smokestacks over the rooftops. True to Johnson’s reassurances, it wasn’t far. She moved down the sidewalk toward the factory, her heart beating in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the street around her. Briar alighted and Johnson closed up the carriage, then both joined her. They were silent on the walk. Isabella went over what she would do if set upon again by imps. Those repulsive things wouldn’t surprise her twice. She glanced behind her at Briar and Johnson walking two abreast down the pavement. Briar looked inward, likely lost in her own plans, but Johnson’s eyes were everywhere. They flicked from one person to the next, from one object to another. It seemed nothing could avoid his notice. He carried a sledgehammer casually over one shoulder. It should have looked odd, but the massive tool suited him. Isabella’s anxiety about him eased a bit.
By the time they reached the wall around Mirabilia’s side yard, Isabella had worked her way into a high state of tension. They were supposed to be avoiding attention, so she turned away, trying not to look too interested in the door. The bustle of morning continued unabated around them, no one seeming to remark upon the three of them by a door that went out of its way to be innocuous. No one looked up. To do so invited conversation, something these people seemed disinclined to do first thing in the morning.
Johnson pushed on the door, but it didn’t budge.
“There might be a locking spell on it,” Briar murmured to her, “but see what you can do.”
Isabella fished her tools out of a pocket. Johnson and Briar stepped back to give her room and to shield her activities from those passing by. The lock was simple enough, and she barely had to look down to pick it. Before long, the tumblers gave with an audible snick.
“Neatly done,” Johnson said.
Briar favored her with a smile. “Not a spell after all.” She reached past Isabella and pushed on the door. It swung open easily under her hand. She ducked inside, followed closely by Johnson. Isabella took up the rear and closed the door behind them.
The interior of the courtyard looked little like she remembered. Gone were the carriages that had been stored here. Isabella looked around. The extensive side yard on this side of the factory had been packed full of Mirabilia horselesses. There was no cover, but more importantly, where had the carriages gone? If each engine represented three imps coming into London, then there was the potential for hundreds more imps than they’d considered. She hustled over to Briar, who made her way
across the empty yard toward the smaller of the two manufacturing buildings.
“The carriages are gone,” she said, pitching her voice low enough not to carry far. Just because they couldn’t see anyone didn’t mean someone wasn’t lurking about.
“I noted as much.” Briar’s face was grim, her jaw clenched. “They’ve been gone long enough that I no longer feel any disturbance from them.”
“What do you think it means?”
“I hesitate to speculate.”
“Of course you do.” Isabella gentled the statement with a smile. Speculation wasn’t in Briar’s nature. “But if you had to.”
“If I had to, I might wonder why someone needs a large number of imps on mobile platforms. They could be placed anywhere and be quite innocuous in many cases. Perhaps they’ll be involved in an ambush or in leading the Duke into one.”
“But whatever the inventor has planned isn’t for here, then.”
“Likely not.” Briar hesitated. “Though I could be wrong.”
“It really must be the end of the world, if you’re admitting to that.” Isabella rested her hand on Briar’s shoulder. She wished Johnson was somewhere else, anywhere else. Nothing would calm her nerves like a kiss from her beloved.
They neared another small door in the side of the engine manufacturing building. The din from the chassis plant next door filtered over to them even here. By contrast, the engine building sat dark and lifeless. But then, that had been the case when she’d visited the last time as well. The absence of smoke from the tall chimney above them was quite reassuring. From what little Isabella remembered of the layout of the building in front of them, this door would open to an area other than the manufacturing floor. She supposed there were offices or storage rooms off the floor, but she hadn’t gotten the chance to explore them.
“Once we’re inside, we’ll have to split up,” Briar said. Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I want you to go with Johnson.”
Demon in the Machine Page 31