Clockwork Secrets

by Dru Pagliassotti

  “Congratulations, your majesty! You’ve arrested one of the Ondinium assassins. I suggest you execute her at once.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “That’s not true!” Taya bust out in Alzanan. It didn’t matter what language she spoke anymore— her ruse was blown. “Fosca Mazzoletti gave the orders— I was there, I saw it! And so did Liliana. Just find her and ask her!”

  Fosca’s palm cracked across her face. Taya staggered, only held upright by the colonel’s relentless grip.

  “I would never harm Il Re,” Lady Mazzoletti hissed, her face inches from Taya’s. She straightened, the color high in her cheeks. “This is Cristof Forlore’s icarus wife, your majesty. She helped him kill the king and kidnap Principessa Liliana; she was on the vessel that destroyed one of our dirigibles during their escape, and her ship attacked and crippled the Indomitable. Executing her will send a clear message to Ondinium’s government that Alzana does not tolerate lies and betrayal.”

  “You’re the liar,” Taya protested. “Colonel, she wants me dead because I’m one of the few people still alive who knows what she did!”

  “Is Liliana really alive?” Agosti demanded.

  “Yes! Yes, if she survived the crash, she’s alive. She was on the Firebrand and she swore a vendetta against Fosca Mazzoletti!”

  “If your sister is still alive, she’s undoubtedly been tortured and brainwashed—”

  “Find her and ask her yourself! Please, Colonel, she wants to see you again; if you go out there and search for her, you’ll find out that I’m telling the truth!”

  “All right, enough!” Colonel Agosti shoved Taya back into her chair. “Sergeant!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” The door opened and a soldier appeared, at attention.

  “This woman is an Ondinium spy. I want her shackled and locked up with a guard at the door. No visitors and no interference; nobody touches her or speaks to her without my permission. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Be careful, Colonel,” Taya said as the soldier hauled her back out of the chair. “Mazzoletti killed your family, and she’s probably here to kill you, too. Don’t let her or her allies stand behind you in a firefight.”

  “You—” Fosca Mazzoletti started forward but was stopped when Colonel Agosti stepped between them. Taya was yanked toward the door where another soldier covered her with his pistol.

  “That’s enough,” the colonel snapped. “I said that nobody touches her without my permission.”

  “Your majesty,” Fosca argued, “she’s a trained Council spy and assassin! She’s trying to turn us against each other!”

  “I’m not—”

  The door shut and Taya’s face was pressed against the corridor wall while the sergeant fastened iron manacles around her wrists.

  “Principessa Liliana was on the Ondinium ornithopter that crashed,” she said, keeping her voice as controlled as she could. “If any of your soldiers find her, she’ll tell you the truth about what happened to the king.”

  “Quiet,” the sergeant growled, pulling her back upright with a rough shake. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Fosca Mazzoletti is going to kill the colonel. You shouldn’t leave them alone together.”

  The sergeant swept his foot forward, knocking her ankles out from beneath her. Taya wasn’t expecting it and was sent sprawling, banging her head against the floor. She instinctively rolled aside, her shoulders slamming against the wall.

  “Careful,” the sergeant sneered, grabbing her jacket and hauling her back to her feet. “It’s hard to keep your balance in irons.”

  Taya glared but kept her mouth shut.

  * * *

  The Alzanans locked her in what must have been A-O Terminal’s jail before the occupation. It hadn’t come through the fighting with all of its walls intact, but three of the small, windowless cells in the back were still functional. Fetters ran from her right ankle to a ring in the floor. The heavy cell door was locked behind her, the iron cover over its viewing grate firmly shut. She was given no bedding and no pot to piss in.

  “At least I’m not chained to the wall this time,” she muttered in a forlorn attempt to look on the bright side.

  If she was lucky, she’d planted enough doubts in Pietra Agosti’s mind to buy time while the colonel looked for Liliana, but Fosca Mazzoletti would argue strongly for her execution… or she might simply get rid of the colonel. Taya couldn’t think of any other reason for the head of the Mazzoletti Family to have come out to the front line.

  If Fosca killed the colonel, Taya would be next. She wondered how much Fosca suspected about her brother’s disappearance. If she had access to the Ondinium rumor mill, she might guess that Taya and Cristof had been involved in stopping the Alzanans. But she wouldn’t know whether Gaio was alive or dead. The Council had announced that several Alzanan dirigible crews were being held prisoner, but it hadn’t identified them or the ships that had been taken. That information had been one of the bargaining chips in their peace negotiations.

  Hours passed. Nobody bothered her. At some point, the door opened long enough for a soldier to bring in a cup of water, some bread and cheese, and — at last — a chipped chamberpot.

  “Could I please have a blanket?” she asked, staying well away from the door. “It’s freezing in here.”

  The man didn’t say anything; the door closed.

  The food wasn’t much. Taya left the empty plate and cup next to the door and moved the chamberpot to a corner where it would be difficult for someone peering through the grate to watch her use it.

  After what seemed like a long time later, the grate slid open, and then the door was unlocked. A soldier threw in a wool blanket and removed the cup and plate.

  “Thank you!” she called out as the door shut and the grate cover was replaced. Hoping that it was a good sign, she curled up in a corner with the blanket wrapped around herself and tried to sleep.

  She awoke when the door opened and a lamp shined in. She blinked and squinted, pulling her blanket closer around her.

  “Here we are.”

  “Taya?”

  Taya drew in a sharp breath as she recognized the voices. Patrice Corundel— and Alister!

  The mercate held the lantern in gloved hands as she stepped inside. Alister entered behind her, his blindfolded head held high and his chestnut cane lightly rasping across the floor in front of him.

  Behind them, in the lamplight, Taya saw the guard sprawled on the floor.

  “What do you want?” she asked, swallowing.

  “Ah, good, it is you.” Alister’s lips turned up in a small smile. He reached into the heavy winter coat he was wearing and dug out a handkerchief, which he offered in one hand. “Here. It wouldn’t do to have her cry for help.”

  “If we just killed her—” Patrice set down the lantern.

  “Then I wouldn’t enjoy myself nearly as much and you would have a murder on your soul. The handkerchief, if you please.”

  “I don’t like this,” the mercate mumbled, taking it. “You’re putting us all into danger.”

  “Before she screams?”

  Taya suddenly made sense of their conversation and drew in a breath to do exactly that. Patrice leaped on her, yanking her hair back and cramming the handkerchief into her mouth. Taya reached out and clawed the mercate’s face, raking her nails across the older woman’s eyes and cheekbones. Patrice jerked her face away and slammed Taya’s head against the prison wall, swearing.

  Taya’s eyes watered with pain as she tried to spit out the handkerchief. She attempted to strangle the woman with the length of chain that draped between her cuffs. Standing behind the mercate, Alister dropped a hand on Corundel’s shoulder, orienting himself. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a needle gun.

  Taya’s eyes widened. Patrice tore the chain away from her nec
k, yanking Taya’s hands down.

  “Exalted, we need to use the chlor—”

  The needlegun spat its deadly staccato.

  Patrice collapsed against Taya, who stared in shock at the long steel needles jutting out of the back of the mercate’s skull.

  Alister’s hand tightened on the woman’s shoulder. He pulled her back, dropping her carelessly at his feet.

  “Taya? Are you all right?”

  Taya tore the handkerchief out of her mouth.

  “You killed her!”

  “Excellent.” He stepped back, lowering the gun. “I would have been quite chagrined had I murdered the wrong woman. For one thing, it would have put an irreparable strain on my relationship with my brother.”

  Her heart leaped. “Is he here?”

  “Cris? No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with the bad Forlore brother.” His smile was strained. “Even so, don’t I get a ‘thank you’?”

  “Why? I mean, what are you doing here?”

  “Engaging in what is quite likely to be a pointless and ill-fated attempt to redeem myself in your eyes.” He cocked his head. “And perhaps in the Lady’s, although I still think She would have approved of my plan to improve the caste system.”

  “But— you’re here? With the Alzanans?”

  He tucked his cane under his arm, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a small ring of keys.

  “Well, yes. After I left you, I decided to stick around the capital a little longer, speaking quite loudly against Ondinium and my bastard of a brother. As I’d expected, Lady Mazzoletti quickly brought me in and asked me whether I’d like to avenge myself on both. Since then, I’ve been earning my keep by briefing Alzana’s military — well, Lady Mazzoletti, although as I understand it, they’re essentially identical — on Ondinium’s various internal defenses.” He held out the keys. “The mercate said these were the guard’s keys. Let’s find out if she was telling the truth.”

  Taya snatched them away and tried them on her manacles. Her eyes drifted to Corundel’s corpse. A lock of graying hair fell from the woman’s knit cap.

  “And Patrice—” she said, thinking, murder doesn’t even bother me anymore. That’s not good.

  “Was on the train from the capital with the rest of us and the Cabisi weapons she’d brought back on the Indomitable. But she came here to help me kill you. She was trying to nerve herself up to do it on her own when I offered to do it for her in exchange for a little private time with you first. I think she was relieved to pass the burden to me, although she didn’t precisely approve of my motives.”

  “That’s disgusting!” Taya freed her wrists and leaned over to unlock her ankle.

  “It is, but if I hadn’t provided her with a reason to keep you alive, my little hawk, I wouldn’t have been able to distract her long enough to kill her. It isn’t easy for a blind man to commit murder, you know; it requires proximity and surprise. And as invaluable as Florianne has been to me over the last few years, there are some things I simply can’t ask her to do for me.”

  Taya stood. Alister was still holding his needler, but he wasn’t making any threatening gestures with it.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “You are going to put the mercate into your place and cover her with the blanket. If she has any weapons, you might want to take them. Oh, yes, and please don’t forget to retrieve my handkerchief. Somebody might recognize it.”

  Taya looked down at the body with a mixture of regret and distaste. She didn’t want to touch it, but she understood Alister’s plan. She grit her teeth and dragged Patrice’s dead weight into the corner. The woman’s flesh was still warm. She curled the body up and covered it with the blanket. There wasn’t much blood. She wiped her hands on Alister’s handkerchief, anyway.

  “I didn’t see any weapons.”

  “There should be a phial.”

  Taya searched Patrice’s coat pockets and pulled out a small brown bottle wrapped in a stained, stinking rag.

  “I have it. And your handkerchief.”

  “Good. Be sure to confiscate the guard’s gun when we leave, as well.”

  Taya slid the bottle into her jacket pocket, then pulled out her armature keys and pocketwatch and put them into her pockets, too. She had bruises where they’d been digging into her ankle for the last three days. At last she picked up the lantern and stepped outside.

  The jail was empty and cold. Canvas had been tacked over the holes in the walls and windows to keep out the wind. The guard lay on the ground. To Taya’s surprise, he was alive.

  “You drugged him?” she asked, puzzled, as she took his pistol.

  “The phial contains chloroform. Florianne bought it from the camp physician. One wonders what he thought she was going to do with it, but I suppose she paid him well to keep his questions to himself. I hear he does a little side trade in laudanum, too.”

  “How long will he be unconscious?”

  “Not long enough. I suggest you use my needler; Alzanan soldiers carry percussion weapons, and they’re too noisy for this sort of work.”

  “I— I don’t want to kill him.” Taya drew back from the body. “Let’s just leave him here.”

  “My dear, he may have seen me. I did my best to stay behind while Patrice carried out the dirty work, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have caught a glimpse of me as he struggled.”

  “They’ll know you did it anyway, once they see the needles.”

  “It’s Patrice’s gun; she killed the guard, and you killed her.” He sighed and swept his cane forward until it hit the soldier, then tapped around the man’s contours. His blindfolded face was turned down as though he could see the body. “Really, Taya, I would have thought you’d be more pragmatic by now. Hasn’t Cris explained that every Alzanan you leave alive is an Alzanan who will kill your countrymen?”

  “Alister, no.” She grabbed his wrist. “The Alzanans haven’t treated me badly, and I’m sure he didn’t see you. Please, just help me escape. How are we going to get out of camp?”

  “With some effort. Which reminds me, Florianne is outside; would you please let her in before she freezes? I told her to stay around the corner.”

  Taya started to walk off, then spun, catching Alister in the act of raising his needler. She seized his wrist again.

  “Don’t. Give me the gun.”

  “I don’t suppose you intend to shoot him for me, do you?”

  “No.”

  He sighed and relinquished the weapon with the slightest of smiles.

  “Are you this headstrong with my brother?”

  “Yes.” She set the gun’s safety and held out her arm, placing Alister’s hand on it. “Come on.”

  He slid his hand down until his fingers rested lightly on her elbow and followed as she headed for the door.

  Florianne was waiting for them in the cold and dark, just as Alister had described. The young woman handed Taya a bundle of clothes, and Taya gave her Alister’s needler in return. She pulled on the heavy blue Alzanan coat and winter hat with relief and found gloves in the coat’s pocket.

  “Thank you,” she said with genuine gratitude.

  “You could pass as an Alzanan soldier now,” Florianne murmured.

  “I thought a bit about the feasibility of arranging your escape by train or dirigible, but I’m afraid neither is practical,” Alister said as Florianne handed him the needler and set a soldier’s hat on his head. “For one thing, the engines take too long to heat up. So I’m afraid you’ll have to escape by foot, and to make matters worse, we will need to backtrack several miles to get past the patrols. They’re paying close attention to the border side of Terminal, but not as much to the Alzanan side. Since you don’t like shooting people, I hope you won’t object to chloroforming anyone who gets in our way.”

  “How?”

  “Soak a
rag in the chemical, clap it over your opponent’s nose and mouth, and hold him still until he passes out.”

  Taya fingered Alister’s handkerchief and nodded. “I can do that.”

  “I have no idea how much of the chemical is necessary,” he continued. “I recommend using a considerable amount, just in case. There’s no point in saving the stuff.”

  “All right.” She looked at Florianne. “Are you coming with us?”

  The girl shrugged.

  “He needs me. I am his eyes.”

  “And you don’t mind the danger he’s putting you into?”

  “It’s more interesting than running a boarding house with my mother.”

  “All right. I hope he’s worth it. Where do we go now?”

  “Follow me.” The girl picked up the lantern. Alister put a hand on Florianne’s arm.

  “Would you hide this under your coat for me?” he asked, thrusting his cane in Taya’s direction. She tucked it under her arm and folded her coat flap over it. Alister pulled down his blindfold, letting it hang loosely around his neck as they began to walk. The sight of the hollowed eyelids under his hat brim made Taya cringe. She’d been a witness at his blinding.

  “I told her that the ornithopter’s main weakness is its unprotected deck,” Alister said stridently in Alzanan as they stepped out into the dark, unlit street. He pulled a steel flask from his coat pocket and adroitly flipped the lid to one side, gesturing with the flask. “It doesn’t have anything to do with speed or maneuverability— it’s all about altitude and angle of fire. The Ondies are used to being above everyone else, you see. They never thought to protect themselves from another flying ship, not until the enemy started using floaters in the Last War, and by then it was too late to change the ornithopters’ design. But floaters couldn’t carry much weight, so even then the problem was negligible. But now, you see, now our flying ships have changed all the rules, and the Ondies haven’t realized that yet.”

  Taya looked around as Alister continued his loud monologue, punctuating it by taking showy swigs from his flask. Several armed Alzanan soldiers shot them curious looks as they passed but didn’t question their presence. Once somebody roared at them to shut up and get lost, but Alister’s discourse never faltered as they continued down the street.