“This one’s for you, love.”
Taya took it. Professor Dautry had invited the exalted to take an aerostat ride with her. I promise this trip will be uneventful, she’d written on the bottom.
“Oh, no. It’s definitely for you.”
“I’m recovering. And avoiding reporters.”
“You are recovering. But I don’t think any reporters will be lurking around the sector gate at five in the morning.”
“Five?”
“Best time for a flight.” She tapped the invitation on the table, thinking.
“No.”
“If the Council’s that worried about our diplomatic relations with Mareaux, taking a balloon ride with Mareaux’s newest representative would be good press.”
“Taya. I’ll get sick.”
“We’ll feed you a light dinner and make you skip breakfast. Just like the last time we flew.”
“That—” he flushed. “That was an emergency.”
“So is this, diplomatically speaking.” She propped the invitation on the teapot, facing him. “Think about it, ambassador. The flight’s tomorrow morning.”
She left Cris at the breakfast table with his stack of correspondence and journals and flew down to visit her sister in Tertius, then the dispatch station on Secundus. All of her old colleagues had read the newspaper article, and she dutifully reassured them that Cristof’s injuries hadn’t been received at the hands of a Mareaux assassin. Knowing her friends, the news would be all over the city by the end of the day. Maybe she’d save the decaturs’ press liaison some effort.
When she returned home, she found Cristof sitting in his workshop, leaning over a bright red cloth covered with gears and springs.
“Making another watch?”
He turned, flipping up a magnifying lens on a headpiece covered with lenses.
“Just killing time.”
“That’s a bad thing for a clockwright to do.” She walked across the crowded room and kissed him. “And that’s an extraordinarily ridiculous piece of equipment you’re wearing.”
“It’s not ridiculous; it’s useful. Look.” He fanned the lenses over his head with obvious pleasure. “Five levels of magnification and an extra arm to hold any standard loupe.”
“Oh. It’s new.”
“An engineer I knew on Tertius sent it to me. Mitta left the package on my bench.” He took one of his watchmaker’s loupes and screwed it into the headpiece’s ring, then flipped it up and down to demonstrate. The magnifying lens made the cuts and bruises around his eye stand out. “Ingenious, isn’t it? He even built in extra space allowance for my glasses.”
“Uh-huh.” Taya bit her tongue. It’s taking his mind off his injuries, she counseled herself. And you knew what you were getting into when you married him. “Too bad there aren’t any compartments on the head strap for all your little picks and screwdrivers.”
“It’s more useful to keep my tools on the bench,” he said, seriously.
“Well, then.” She looked down at the watch parts to hide her amusement. “It’s nice to see you tinkering again.”
“Given the way things are working out, I thought it might be expedient to brush off my old skills.”
“The Council can’t blame you for being attacked. Besides, there’s plenty of diplomatic work you can do right here in the capital. Like being seen in public with a visiting scientist from Mareaux.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, flipping the loop back up over his head. “I’ve already accepted the professor’s invitation.”
“You have?”
“Given the choice between disagreeing with my wife or facing my most abject fear, I have, of course, chosen to face my fear.”
“Oh.” She feigned disappointment. “Then I guess I’ll have to scrap my plan to wring a concession out of you in bed.”
He glanced toward the door. “If I hurry, I can overtake the messenger, but you’ll have to give me a shot of morphine before you begin wringing.”
She leaned over and draped her arms around his neck.
“Tell you what. I’ll wring gently. But only if you take off that silly headpiece.”
* * *
Winter mornings were bitter and cold in Ondinium. Taya and Cristof were bundled up as they crossed the University quad to the inflating silk envelope of the Mareaux aerostat. It was a very small dirigible, compared to the queen’s; little more than a balloon with an engine and propellers. Professor Dautry waved, and the man next to her turned.
“You’re right.” Cristof muttered as he lifted a hand. “Apparently this is business, after all.”
The Mareaux ambassador to Ondinium, Lord Andrieu Courtenay, walked over, pulling off his hat and gloves. Silver-haired and tall, he fit Taya’s conception of aristocracy much better than had the short and tubby Lord Pomeroy, or the motherly Queen Iancais. Of course, it was possible that Lord Courtenay’s physical resemblance to an exalted was why he’d been assigned to Ondinium. He didn’t wear robes, but he’d let his silver hair grow much longer than most men wore it in Mareaux, and his waistcoats were cut rather longer than the Mareaux norm.
“Exalted Forlore,” he said, bowing in the Ondinium style. Taya saw him scan the stitches and bruises on Cristof’s face, though he kept his expression politely neutral.
“Lord Courtenay.” Cristof offered his uninjured right hand, Mareaux-style. They shook. “Are you interested in the professor’s new anemometer, too?”
“It’s always a pleasant surprise when Mareaux has technology to share with Ondinium, instead of the other way around,” Courtenay replied amiably. He turned to Taya. “It’s good to see you again, Taya Icarus.”
“Likewise, ambassador.” Since a Mareaux curtsey would look ridiculous in her winter-weight flight suit and armature, she held out her hand and shook, as well.
As Lord Courtenay and her husband chatted about inconsequentials, Taya slipped away to watch the aerostat crew — volunteers from the University — ready the dirigible.
“Did you invite the ambassador?” she asked Dautry, when the woman finally paused to greet her.
“I mentioned that you two might join me this morning, and he invited himself. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“No, it’s probably for the best. If you don’t mind, I’m going to free-fly, rather than join you in the basket.”
“Gondola. That’s fine. This is the smallest, safest aerostat I brought; I thought that after everything the exalted has been through, he might appreciate a gentle ride. We can take the big ’stat up another time. Lord Courtenay told me about the derailment, by the way.”
“We were lucky.”
“I’m glad.” Dautry raised her eyes to the ondium wings that curved over Taya’s head. “Tell me, is there any chance I could try one of your armatures?”
“The eyrie keeps a spare set of wings especially for guests. I’m sure I can arrange a flight for you, if you’d like.”
“I would.”
“I’ll look into it.” Taya looked around. “The weather seems good.”
“I’m told we won’t get any snow today, and I’ve been studying the local wind currents. My plan is to take the ambassadors on a short hop to Gryngoth Plaza.”
Taya mentally reviewed the flight path. The route would avoid wireferry lines and most other obstacles.
“Good choice. The plaza’s by the sector edge, though, and there’s always an updraft from Tertius along the cliff. Try to land on the University side of the statue, if you can clear enough space.”
Dautry nodded and moved off to talk to her assistants.
Soon the dirigible was ready, and half its ground crew headed to the plaza. Cristof joined Dautry and the ambassador in the gondola, looking resigned. She gave him a thumbs-up and a reassuring smile, then pulled on her flight cap and goggles. With a shudder, he turned to face the ambassador
, keeping his back to the open air.
Deciding he’d manage, Taya headed off to climb the University flight tower.
The dirigible’s ascent was slow. She waited until it had cleared the rooftops before she leaped from the metal dock and spread her wings. The wind was freezing, and as she kicked out the tailset and slid her ankles over the bar, she tilted toward the Science & Technology building. The updraft from its subbasement steam engines provided a welcome gust of warm air. She rode it in a circling glide before beating forward to join the balloon.
Taya made long, easy arcs around the aerostat as it flew over the University campus, rocking her wings in salute when Dautry and Courtenay waved to her. Cristof didn’t wave. His hands were locked on the sides of the gondola.
The balloon’s passage drew all kinds of attention, and the streets and windows were crowded with gawkers craning their necks to watch the vehicle’s flight over their sector. The balloon slowly passed over the markets and gradually descended into Gryngoth Plaza, where young crewmembers grabbed its dangling ropes and hauled it to a bumping stop.
Taya made an awkward, swooping landing on the low wall that ringed the crowded Plaza. Onlookers backed out of range of her sweeping metal wings, providing enough space for her to hop down to the cobblestone plaza. She locked her wings, pushed up her goggles, and worked her way through the mob to the aerostat.
Cristof looked well as he stood by the balloon with the Mareaux ambassador. She slipped past Professor Dautry, who was answering questions from the crowd, and slipped her gloved hand into her husband’s.
“Good flight?” she asked, as he turned.
“Not bad,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. “It doesn’t rock as much as a wireferry.”
“That’s because we move with the wind, instead of against it,” Professor Dautry explained, turning. “Even people who are afraid of heights often find dirigible travel comfortable.”
“How remarkable,” Cristof replied, neutrally.
They stayed until the University crew broke down the dirigible, then walked back to the University together, surrounded by enthusiastic onlookers and persistent newspaper reporters. The ambassadors provided the press with reassuring statements about the mutual goodwill between Ondinium and Mareaux until chartered carriages arrived to take them home.
“I’ve set out a late breakfast,” Mitta greeted them as Taya pulled off her armature and Cristof stripped out of his winter gear. “Pyke brought your mail this morning and said you had an important letter. I put it on top of the pile, if that suits you?”
“Thank you,” Taya said, sliding her armature over its stand and hurrying to the breakfast room in her flight suit. Cristof reached the letter first, slitting the envelope open and shaking out the page inside. Taya pressed close to read it over his arm.
The unsigned sheet contained the same long list of account numbers that had been sent on the punch cards. But now each account number, deposit, and withdrawal was linked to a business name and a list of goods, and somebody had drawn a series of brackets and arrows connecting each of them. And at the top of them all— Allied Metals & Extraction.
“Patrice Corundel,” Taya whispered, the name coming out with more vitriol than she’d intended.
* * *
Lieutenant Amcathra set the letter down on the low table between their chairs and leaned back. His black castemark looked like a shadow in the gaslit room. They’d sent him a note as soon as they’d read the letter, but he hadn’t been able to join them until after dinner, showing up in full uniform, as always.
“This is suggestive,” he said. “It is not conclusive.”
“I know.” Cristof leaned forward and tapped the abbreviations next to the lists of goods. “Most of these deliveries originate from AME’s Hamet-Benoit storage yard in Engels. I want to take a look at its files. There should be documentation — inventories, bills of lading, receipts — that we can check against the record of deposits. If there’s a reasonable match, we can open an inquiry.”
“If Allied Metals & Extraction hired Rikard to kill you, then it already considers you a threat,” Amcathra said. “Do you think you will find anything if you visit the facility?”
“Not if they know I’m coming.”
“You disguised Cris once already,” Taya said, trying to read the lieutenant’s stony expression. “Can you do it again? Can you get us into the yard without anybody knowing?”
“I presume you are not ready to present your suspicions to the Council?”
“No, not yet,” Taya replied. “For one thing, most of the decaturs have some kind of investment in the Big Three or their affiliates. If we tell the Council, AME might hear about it and start burning files.”
Amcathra’s pale eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t try to defend the decaturs’ integrity. They all knew far too well that Ondinium’s loyalty program, Refinery, wasn’t perfect.
“If you wish to travel unobserved, you should not go by train. However, I do not believe the exalted is fit to hike across the mountains or don an armature for another unauthorized flight.”
“No,” Cristof agreed. “But the exalted believes he can obtain permission for a cross-country dirigible flight in the interest of a joint Ondinium-Mareaux scientific experiment.”
“You are prepared to fly in an aerostat across miles of wilderness in the middle of the winter, with a foreigner, in order to break into a Big Three storage yard unobserved?”
“The thought had occurred to me.”
“With all due respect, Exalted, the idea is ludicrous.”
“Ludicrous?” Cristof scowled and pushed up his glasses. “Why?”
“It’s not that far,” Taya added, grabbing the folded map that she and Cristof had been poring over earlier. She spread it on the table. Their proposed flight path was marked in graphite. “Only fourteen hours, if the wind’s with us, and it should be.”
“How will you return?”
“The train runs to Engel, here.” She pointed. “And the yard’s right about here.” She pointed again. “So, Professor Dautry lands outside of Engel and we cut north to the yard while she goes into town, hires some operates to pack her aerostat back to the station, and catches the next train to the capital. Once we’re done looking around, we’ll do the same.”
“You would need to present your papers once you arrived at the Safira station.”
“Of course, but we wouldn’t need any identification to catch the train at Engel. We can fake our castemarks to look like two operates heading to the city on break and then wipe them off before we get to Safira.”
“Counterfeiting a castemark is illegal,” Amcathra retorted. “And the storage yard will be fenced and guarded.”
“It won’t be the first time I’ve had to break and enter as part of an ongoing investigation,” Cristof said.
“The last time you did so without a license, Exalted, you were nearly arrested.”
“Granted.” Taya’s husband pulled off his glasses and began to polish them with his handkerchief. “But that was a long time ago. And this time I’ll have Taya to watch my back.”
“Is this the story you promised to tell me later, Lieutenant?” Taya asked.
“Much later,” Cristof said, firmly.
“Moreover,” Amcathra continued, “what if you are attacked? You are in no shape to run or fight, and while I am aware that your wife is adept with her knife, a blade is little defense against a firearm.”
“We’ll try to avoid men with guns,” Cristof said, his voice starting to gain an edge.
“The idea is ludicrous,” the lictor repeated. “You will need me to travel with you.”
Taya’s heart leaped, but Cristof shook his head.
“That’s not why we invited you here, Janos.”
“Perhaps not, but considering the flimsiness of your plan, it is the inevitable result. I must
either stop you or accompany you, and an illegal trade agreement with Alzana is too important to dismiss without thorough investigation.”
“But we’re going to… it’s likely we’ll end up breaking some laws during the investigation,” Taya protested. She dearly wanted Amcathra’s company, but she understood why Cristof was protesting.
We’re corrupting him, her husband had said.
“I am certain you will break fewer laws if I am there to supervise your actions.” Amcathra glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Have you spoken to the Mareaux professor about this yet?”
“No….”
“Then you have much preparation to do. I recommend you carry it out with the greatest possible discretion.”
“We will, but we’re going to have to get clearance for the flight,” Taya said. “We don’t want to get shot down by a patrol.”
“Submit your flight request to me, and I will see that it remains secure.” Lieutenant Amcathra stood. “Good evening, Exalted. Icarus.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Cristof said, standing with him. “We just wanted to keep you up to date on our plans, not make you an accessory.”
“When the Council hears of your proposed flight, it will ask me to accompany you, anyway.”
“The Council doesn’t need to keep making you my nursemaid,” Cristof grumbled.
“I am accustomed to the role. There is no reason to escort me out.”
Taya waited until Lieutenant Amcathra’s footsteps faded down the hall before giving her husband a speculative look.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think,” Cristof said, sitting again, “that he likes the plan.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Are Ondiniums always subject to a military invasion of their privacy?” Professor Dautry asked, her voice chilly, as they floated over the northeastern industrial sector of Tertius. She hadn’t been pleased when Amcathra had announced his intention to search everything on the dirigible an hour before launch, even though he’d found nothing incriminating in her bags. Cristof’s bag, however, had contained a needle pistol that Lieutenant Amcathra had sternly unloaded before returning.
Clockwork Lies: Iron Wind (Clockwork Heart trilogy) Page 21