On the western side of town they encountered groups of soldiers sitting around trash fires drinking and arguing just as vociferously as Alister. Between the night, the hat, and the fact that he was tucked between Taya and Florianne, nobody noticed that Alister’s eyes were scarred shut or that his cheeks bore crudely broken castemarks. He was just another loud, inebriated soldier being carried back to camp by his friends, and as buildings gave way to tents and they wound their way through the frozen, muddy streets, Taya started to appreciate his ruse. Who was going to be suspicious of three people making themselves so obnoxious? It was a brash, nervy strategy; just the kind she would expect from a man like Alister.
“Quiet a little,” Florianne said at last. “People are sleeping.”
“Are we still in camp?” Alister asked, his voice low.
“Yes, but we are reaching the edge. Perhaps it is time for you to be sick now.”
Alister sagged in their arms, groaning. Taya adjusted his arm over her shoulder, flinching as the pungent liquor in his flask spilled down the shoulder of her new coat. She hoped he wasn’t actually drinking the stuff; it smelled like it would eat through ondium plating.
“This way,” Florianne said, turning them onto a narrower path. The scent of Alister’s liquor was quickly overcome by the reek of the camp latrines as he begged to be put down before he spewed. He played the role of an obnoxious drunkard remarkably well, Taya thought, but then again, he’d been quite the actor when she’d first met him, too. He’d fooled her into thinking he loved her.
“Don’t let him fall in,” one of the soldiers joked as they passed. Alister groaned more loudly and the soldier laughed.
Suddenly, a burst of gunfire rattled through camp and the sky lit up behind them in a booming explosion.
Taya and Florianne both grabbed Alister’s arms and yanked him down. Flames erupted between the buildings behind them.
“They’re attacking the other side of Terminal!” Taya exclaimed.
“Well, that ought to distract the guards,” Alister said calmly. He cocked his head, listening. “The lictors are probably trying to destroy the Formidable. That’s what I would do, if I were in charge. A train pulls in and then, a day later, a dirigible lands— they must know that the Alzanans are planning something.”
Taya handed him his cane as they stood. He recapped his flask and slid it into his pocket. Nobody was paying them any attention anymore; everybody was running toward the firefight.
“The train was carrying the serpentfire cannons?” she asked.
“Yes, it was loaded with a number of weapons bearing fanciful names. I never realized the Cabisi were so poetic.” He reached out and Florianne guided his hand to her arm. “Shall we go?”
They walked quickly along the edge of the town, Alister holding his cane off the ground and trusting Florianne to lead him. Taya caught herself waiting to steady him if he stumbled over the uneven ground. Well, he is my brother-in-law, she thought, ruefully.
“The train’s cargo included thunderclap rounds, laceration shells, serpentfire cannons, and a holocaust bomb,” Florianne said, calmly.
“A holocaust bomb?” Taya didn’t like the sound of that. “What does that do?”
“I don’t know, but Corundel spent a great deal of time discussing its placement with Lady Mazzoletti.” Alister grimaced. “At the risk of bringing back unfortunate memories, Taya, I should probably mention that they hoped to detonate it inside the Great Engine’s chamber.”
Taya nearly tripped over a hummock. “Impossible! They’ll never be able to reach it!”
“Mercate Corundel knows where it is. Allied Metals & Extraction manufactured replacement parts for the Engine.”
Another explosion went off.
“We’re headed for one of the imperial tunnel entrances,” Alister said. “The Alzanans put a guard over it, so I’m afraid you may need to shoot someone, after all. I don’t suppose we’ll be able to take them by surprise anymore.”
“There’s a tunnel here? For a—” she remembered Florianne and cut herself off. “You know about the tunnels?”
“I was a decatur, you know. Florianne, my dear, what do you see?”
“Everyone’s running to the east of town,” she reported. “It looks like they’re setting up a defensive perimeter around the ship and train yard.”
“Are we going to raise any suspicions by going in the opposite direction?”
“It might look better if we were jogging. At least then we’d appear to have a purpose.”
“Lady save me. Can we get away with it?”
“Maybe. Mrs. Taya should go first to clear the way and you and I will follow behind her.”
“Are you really his landlady’s daughter?” Taya asked, staring at the girl. She seemed awfully calm for a civilian.
“Yes. Will you take the lead? Alister needs as clear and level a path as you can find.”
“All right.” Taya pulled her collar higher and tugged down on her hat.
“Carry the pistol,” Florianne suggested. “That way you’ll be mistaken for another soldier.”
Taya made a face and pulled out the Alzanan firearm, checking its safety before beginning her jog. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she assumed the surprisingly competent Florianne would let her know if and when she needed to turn. They soon became one of a crowd of people rushing this way and that. Most were headed toward the firefight, but everybody was so intent on getting to their posts that nobody paid attention to anyone else.
“Left,” Florianne sang out. Taya turned down the next alley between two ruined buildings, slowing as they left the larger flow of soldiery.
“This way,” the young woman said.
“How do you know the route so well?” Taya inquired.
“I walked through the camp last night, when we arrived.”
“Just once?”
“I have a very good memory.”
Taya fell silent as the girl moved into the lead. They heard more gunfire, sounding closer, and shouts, and a great mechanical grinding that made Taya freeze a moment before hurrying after her guides.
“There.” Florianne stopped and pointed. They stood at the edge of Terminal, between a row of demolished buildings and charred foundations. A makeshift fence had been erected around a hole in the ground, and two Alzanan soldiers stood tensely by the entrance, clutching their rifles and staring in the direction of the noise and fighting.
“We’ll never sneak past them,” Taya breathed. At her side, Florianne was whispering a description of the setup in Alister’s ear.
“I think you’ll need to use your gun,” Alister agreed. Taya looked down at the pistol and felt her gut clench.
“I can’t.”
“Well, I certainly can’t,” Alister said, dryly. “I have a reasonable chance of hitting someone at point-blank range, but otherwise I shoot like a blind man. And I certainly hope you aren’t planning to ask Florianne to commit murder for you.”
Taya gave a heavy sigh, but then, to her surprise, Florianne set down the hooded lantern and held out her hand.
“I will kill them if you cannot.”
“Have you ever used a gun before, my dear?” Alister asked, gently.
“Of course; my father taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl.”
Something exploded, much closer than before, and rubble pattered down in the street two blocks away. Taya swallowed. The soldiers were headed in this direction. If they didn’t act quickly, they’d be caught.
“I’ll do it,” she said with despair. She’d never shot a gun in her life, but she’d watched Cristof numerous times and she’d paid attention while he was teaching Jinian and Dautry. Now his instructions ran through her mind as she lifted the pistol, carefully sighted on the first guard’s chest, took a deep breath, let it half out, and tightened her finger on the tr
igger.
It didn’t move. She lifted her finger, confused.
The safety was still on.
“Oh, Lady,” she gasped, gripped by the shakes. Was that a sign? It couldn’t be a sign. Icarus or not, she had to use the gun. She flipped the safety off with shaking hands, lifted the pistol again, and then lowered it. Her hands were too unsteady; the sight was wobbling back and forth. She took a deep breath. Be like Captain Amcathra, she counseled herself. Be a rock. You’ve killed people before, to save yourself and your country. This is no different.
Fire burst from the tunnel, sending both guards flying. Taya jerked backward, into Alister and Florianne, and yelped as her gun went off with a loud retort, burying a bullet in one of the walls beside her.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Alister demanded. Florianne dragged him backward and Taya dropped the pistol before she could accidentally fire it again.
Black-uniformed lictors burst out the dark tunnel behind the guards, shooting them as they tried to scramble back to their feet. Then, from around the corner, Alzanan soldiers poured into the streets, firing back at the lictors. Noise and the scent of blood and gunpowder filled the air.
“Oh, scrap.” Taya flattened herself on the ground as Florianne pulled Alister down. “What now?”
Alister held up a finger until Florianne finished telling him what was happening, her eyes fixed on the firefight in front of them.
“Don’t run out and try to talk to them,” he said, tightly.
“I wasn’t going to!” Taya’s heart pounded as one of the lictors screamed and fell, blood gouting from a bullet wound in his neck. More mechanical grinding sounded and the lictors fell back, shouting and firing, as a giant machine lurched out of the tunnel. Taya’s jaw dropped as it moved forward, swaying back and forth as it moved on six gear-driven metal legs. It turned ponderously toward the Alzanans and froze. Flame and bullets burst from the array of gun barrels running across the front of its chassis. Taya heard screams and swearing and shouts for a mortar.
Then, with a puff of steam and a growl of gears and chains, the machine rotated again and strode forward, surrounded by lictors, until it vanished out of sight beyond the alley.
“What was that?” Taya breathed, grabbing Alister’s arm. “It was a huge walking machine with three legs on each side.”
“It seems the decaturs have dusted off their collection of mecharachnids. I wish I could have seen it.”
“Those aren’t supposed to exist anymore!”
“Neither are ornithopters.”
“But—” she stared at him. “What other weapons do we have?”
“The passage is clear,” Florianne observed.
“Alister, what else is down those tunnels?”
“More lictors and ancient machinery, from the sound of it. I recommend—” He broke off as someone shouted behind them in Alzanan.
“You! Identify yourselves!”
“Lady Mazzoletti’s staff!” Alister shouted back at once.
“We arrived yesterday on the train,” Florianne added, rising from the ground with her hands up. Taya tugged Alister around and they both raised their hands.
The three soldiers covering them with rifles looked jumpy.
“What’s your name? Why are you here?”
“We—”
A shot rang out and one of the soldiers jerked. His gun went off as he fell, and the other two soldiers spun and began firing back at their unseen assailant. Taya ducked as bullets whined past her and struck the walls, sending chips of stone flying. Something burned against her jaw and she clapped a hand against it. Alister shouted and she whipped around. He was on his knees, his cane lost, blindly reaching for Florianne. The young woman had collapsed.
“Florianne!” Taya pushed Alister aside as the soldiers at the mouth of the alley ran away, still shooting at their unseen foe. A bullet had struck the girl’s temple, plowing a deep, blood-welling furrow into her skull, and another had pierced her coat. Taya tugged the fabric aside and saw an entry wound over the girl’s lung.
“How is she?” Alister demanded. Taya pulled him forward and put his hand on the young woman’s face.
“She’s dying,” she said, honestly. “She’s been shot in the head and the chest.”
“No!” His agony seemed real and Taya felt a burst of pity as he leaned over the girl, his permanently closed eyes seeming to strain for some glimpse of her face. “Florianne, wait, hold on. I’ll take you to the infirmary— you’re strong, you can do this.”
Florianne twitched, one hand rising an inch, before falling limp. Alister drew in a sharp breath as if he could feel her spirit passing through his hands.
“I’m sorry.” Taya laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’s gone.”
He breathed out, half sigh, half protest, and leaned over the girl’s body.
“Florianne? Florianne?”
The corpse didn’t answer, her dull eyes staring into the night sky.
“Do you want to stay with her?” Taya asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’m sure somebody will find you soon.”
His fingers slid over the blood on Florianne’s face. He pulled himself upright. Tears glistened on his cheeks, and Taya was struck by the realization that she’d never seen Alister cry before— not even during his blinding and exile.
“No,” he said roughly, reaching out with his bloody hand. “Where’s my cane?”
She picked it up and handed it to him. He laid it across his knees and reached around his neck, pulling up his blindfold. His fingers left wet streaks that glistened across the black fabric as he smoothed it over his eyes like a mask.
“Are you sure?”
“Let’s go.”
“We’ll have to leave her here.”
“She’s dead; it doesn’t matter to her anymore.”
“You cared about her, didn’t you?”
“I’m sure she was a spy, reporting my activities to the Mareaux government.” He coughed, grabbed his cane, and climbed to his feet. “But when you’re blind and in exile, you cherish whatever friends you can make, and you don’t ask too many questions.”
“I’m sorry, Alister.” Taya felt her heart being wrenched, and the feeling angered her. It wasn’t her fault he’d made bad choices. Still, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him and the poor girl lying dead at their feet. She took a deep breath. “Are you ready to run?”
“Yes.” He held out a hand and Taya placed it on her arm. She glanced at the gun lying on the ground, then deliberately looked away.
No. She hadn’t shot anyone yet, and she didn’t intend to start now. She picked up the hooded lantern, instead.
“Let’s go.” She looked up and down the street. The fight had moved on, soldiers swarming around the mecharachnid three blocks away.
She ran toward the tunnel, zig-zagging around the fallen bodies and forcing herself to keep moving even when she heard one of the soldiers groan. Alzanan or Ondinium, she couldn’t tell, and she couldn’t afford to stop and find out as stray bullets from the firefight up the street struck the walls around them.
They passed through the shattered fence and Taya slowed to help Alister negotiate the rubble and uneven ground. The air smelled like fresh blood, turned earth, gunpowder, and machine oil. She gagged as she saw the guards’ shattered bodies.
“Hey, you! Stop!”
The words were in Alzanan, not Ondinan, so Taya grabbed Alister’s arm and yanked him into the dark, broken tunnel entrance.
The drop was steep and they stumbled as they half-ran, half-tumbled down the dirt slope. Taya lost her grip on Alister but held the lantern tightly, keeping it up and out of the way as she staggered, dropped to one knee, pulled herself back up, and finally felt her boots strike stone instead of soil. She threw her free hand in front of her face and took several blind, unsteady steps forward. Noth
ing.
“Taya?” Alister’s voice. She heard him take a step and draw in a sharp breath.
“I’m here. Shhh.” She heard gunfire and shouting and a distant mechanical sound that had to be the mecharachnid’s engine, but she didn’t hear anyone scrambling down the slope after them.
After a long moment, she unhooded the lantern and peered around.
They were deeper underground than she’d expected. The sides of the tunnel had collapsed here and there, leaving large chunks of rock to skirt around or climb over, but otherwise the tunnel walls were smooth and finished. This passage wasn’t as wide as the tunnels she’d seen in Ondinium, but like those it seemed to have been carved out of solid stone. About twenty feet in, she saw a symbol etched deeply into the wall— a word or number in Ondinium’s old, long-abandoned imperial script.
“I think we’re alone,” she said, returning to Alister. He was leaning over and gingerly probing his right ankle. Dirt covered his coat and trousers; he had stumbled on the way down.
“Are you all right?”
“I may have twisted something.” He lifted his head and coughed. “Do you see my cane?”
“Just a minute.” Taya scrambled back up the dirt slope a few yards and grabbed it, bringing it back down to him. He closed his hand on it with an air of relief.
“Good. Where are we?”
Taya described the tunnel.
“Are there tracks in the dirt?”
Surprised, she looked down.
“Not railway tracks.” She walked farther down the corridor, holding the lantern close to the floor. Alister followed, the tip of his cane scraping lightly across the ground as he advanced. “Footprints and something big and circular— the machine, I’ll bet. Oh, wait.”
“What?”
“There are some wheel marks, like a cart, maybe.” She crouched. “But the wheels are about twice as wide as my hand.”
“Does the tunnel extend past Terminal?”
“It looks like it, although I can’t tell how far it goes.”
Clockwork Secrets Page 25