Clockwork Secrets

by Dru Pagliassotti

  Amcathra looked like he was making an effort to be patient as he took the harness from her.

  “If you do not want to wear it, then I will give it to Dautry.”

  “But you will not call her Cora?”

  “It would be inappropriate to appear overly familiar with a member of my crew.”

  “But you do not use my name, and I am not a member of your crew.”

  “I do not know you well enough to use your given name.”

  “You know Taya and her husband very well, however.”

  “It is also inappropriate to use a social superior’s name.”

  “Do you think if you call him Cristof, he will believe you are flirting with him?”

  Amcathra’s knife slipped and he gave Jinian a dour look.

  “Be careful.” She smiled. “Do not cut off a finger.”

  “These plates are for Dautry and the exalted,” he growled, picking them up. “Icarus, please be ready to fly soon.”

  “I will….” Taya struggled with herself, then finally sighed. “Captain.”

  She gave Liliana and Jinian a rueful smile after he left.

  “I’m as bad as he is,” she admitted. “As long as he’s being so formal, I can’t bring myself to call him ‘Janos.’”

  Jinian looked thoughtful. “Perhaps he measures his manners against yours as he does his ideas.”

  “Life isn’t one giant competition!”

  “If you are not comfortable with that image, then think of it as a game. You and the captain are playing a game of relationship. He wins if he demonstrates respect for others’ ranks, and you win if you confirm a mutual friendship. Is there a way for both of you to win the game at once?”

  * * *

  After Taya had finished her tea, she brought up a cup and plate for Captain Amcathra as a peace gesture. He took it with a distracted nod and she sighed, wondering where that left them in their “game.” Cristof gave her back the helm and went below to warm up.

  Professor Dautry, now wearing the rescue harness, was keeping their flight low, approaching the conflict at an indirect angle, which made it impossible to watch the firefight. After half an hour, they slowed, hiding within Capital Pass. Beyond the pass laid Safira and Ondinium Mountain.

  Taya surrendered the helm to Lucanus and took off, a set of field glasses tucked into her courier pouch. The train track glittered brightly below her, empty, as she worked her way through the breezy pass. As she reached its far end, she smelled smoke.

  Gripped by apprehension, Taya continued forward until she saw O-Base-0 — Safira — spread before her in flames.

  She landed on a big, broken rock at the edge of the pass and pulled out the field glasses with trembling hands.

  The entire city was burning, and in its center whipped a thin, twisting, dancing tornado of fire that threw sparks and smoke in every direction. Buildings crumbled and something beside the tracks exploded. A tiny figure stumbled into view, then fell, engulfed in flame.

  Taya lowered her field glasses and leaned over, losing the breakfast Amcathra had made for her. Tears burned her eyes as she coughed and spat, then gagged again as a fresh gust of wind carried the sounds and smells of the burning city to her.

  I don’t have time for this, she thought angrily, wiping her face on an ash-covered sleeve. The heavy smoke covering Safira obscured Ondinium Mountain beyond. She put the glasses away and took a series of short, panting breaths to control her sickness. Then, slipping her arms into her wings, she launched herself off the side of the pass and flew east, skirting the city for a clearer look at Ondinium.

  She spotted the ships as she circled the worst of the smoke— a swarm of ornithopters and dirigibles in full battle, maneuvering over the twenty-five mile security zone toward the smoggy, crowded, three-tiered city sprawl that covered the face of Ondinium Mountain. More ornithopters hovered over the city like vultures— no, bad analogy, she thought. Like guardian angels.

  And below — below, in the cleared foothills and valleys of the security zone —Demican and Alzanan troops pushed their way toward the city against a protective line of lictors shooting at them with rifles and cannon. Here and there she spotted a lone mecharachnid squatting on a higher vantage point, firing its guns at the invading army.

  The Formidable could be one of the ships over the security zone, but she couldn’t get a clear look at their numbers through the smoke and maneuvers of battle. Rather than waste precious time trying to ascertain its position, Taya swept around and headed back to the Firebrand at full speed.

  * * *

  The Firebrand’s wood-and-metal wings creaked and groaned as it sped past the smoking earth where Safira had once stood. They were flying low to the ground, even though it meant staying away from the sides of the ship as Alzanan and Demican troops fired up at them. Guns and cannon boomed above and below the ornithopter as armies clashed on the ground and in the air.

  Dautry and Cristof were wearing their rescue harnesses and Taya her wings. Everyone on board except Taya and the two Alzanans carried a rifle. The mortar had been set up on deck, ondium-tipped missiles in a crate beside it, and all of the Ondiniums’ coat pockets — including Taya’s — contained a small bomb and a waxed packet of lucifer matches.

  Colonel Agosti and Liliana stood on the quarterdeck to watch the fighting. Agosti’s eyes were hooded as she gazed at the conflict below.

  “Shoulders ache?” Cristof asked, coming up behind Taya as she rubbed her neck. She nodded and grimaced as he dug his thumbs under her armature struts and into her muscles. “Too hard?”

  “No.” She leaned back into his kneading grip. She’d pushed herself hard to return to the Firebrand, and her body was feeling the stress of the flight and the tension of their predicament. Cristof’s massage hurt, but the soreness felt right, a distraction from the sick feeling in her stomach and the tightness in her chest.

  “How did all those armies get close to the capital?” she asked, closing her eyes.

  “They marched in from the Demican border, I imagine. Or were carried over the border on dirigibles.”

  “Then the ating didn’t work.”

  “We knew it wasn’t going to stop all the clans. The sheytatangri had already committed itself to this war.”

  “But for them to get past all our patrols….” Taya’s voice trailed off as she remembered drunken, defeated Nayan. If he was representative of the rest of the government misfits exiled to the Demican border, then an army could have slipped through with no problem at all. Ondinium had never expected Demicus to turn against it.

  “It’s not that big of an invading force,” Cristof added. “It only looks like a lot because… because we lost so many lictors in Glasgar, and because most of the troops assigned to protect Ondinium would have been stationed in Safira.”

  Taya shuddered.

  Bullets rang off the ondium plates on their hull and something thundered overhead. One of Ondinium’s ornithopters had maneuvered beneath a dirigible and hit it with an ondium-tipped explosive missile. But even as the dirigible started to burn, its bay opened and bombs dropped onto the ornithopter’s open deck. Someone on the ornithopter screamed.

  “Oh, Lady—” Taya couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horror. Cristof pulled her down, covering both of their heads with his arms as the bombs went off. The Firebrand veered aside as the dirigible’s wreckage rained down and the ornithopter’s wreckage flew toward the clouds.

  When Taya looked up again, they’d left the ships behind, the dirigible’s remains burning in the snow-covered, empty sector below.

  “Look!” Jinian, who’d been studying the city ahead through a pair of field glasses, pointed. “Look at that.”

  “Oh, no…!” Taya scrambled next to her, peering through the ship’s rails. A huge column of smoke rose in the distance, bright tongues of flame occasionally appearing within it.


  “The Formidable must have circled around to attack,” Cristof said tersely.

  “There must be ornithopters guarding that side of the city, too,” Taya said, hopelessly.

  “Not if they are all defending this side. Your ships are not organized as well as the Alzanan ships,” Jinian observed, “and they are not fighting as well, either.”

  “I don’t think they have trained crews. You can say what you want about our having ornithopters— I don’t think the Council ever expected to have to use them!”

  “I feel some responsibility for this.” Jinian lowered the glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Much of the technology the Alzanans are using against you is from Cabiel.”

  “After the Last War, Ondinium decided not to sell any more of its ondium, weapons, or analytical engines,” Taya said, staring out at the city. “We were afraid our enemies would use our technology against us again. But a Demican told me that’s why so many northern clans decided to join the Alzanans. The Alzanans trade with them like equals.”

  “I think both of our countries have much to consider after this war.”

  “If Ondinium survives this war.”

  “The dance is not over yet, Taya.”

  Captain Amcathra kept the Firebrand speeding forward. Ondinium Mountain towered before them, not the highest peak in the Yeovil Range, but the only one that had been stripped down to bare rock and transformed into a tightly packed industrial city. Manufactory and household smoke hung like a gritty shroud over the capital’s lowest levels; wireferry cables and flight towers glittered as they ascended the mountainside over peaked roofs and tall smokestacks; and stark, vertical cliffs stretched up to the mountain’s summit, where the old imperial fortress, Oporphyr Tower, overlooked the rest of the range.

  Two more ornithopters flew out of the city, their silver, hawk-like shapes flashing whenever the sun caught their moving wings. The Alzanan dirigibles were outnumbered, but they’d managed to cripple another ornithopter, breaking one of its wings to stall it in midair. The two arriving ornithopters opened fire, even though they were out of range, to distract the Alzanans from the helpless ship.

  “They are not flying well,” Jinian reported. “I appreciate our crew much more now.”

  Taya nodded, although the comparison wasn’t fair. Captain Amcathra and Lucanus had years of formal training, and Professor Dautry had years of hands-on experience, whereas the lictors out there had probably only been given a few days of practice before being sent out to fight.

  Cristof stepped up beside them, anxiously closing one hand around Taya’s armature.

  “Janos wants to get into the city as fast as possible, which means cutting over some of the heaviest fighting along the northwest. He says we should all brace ourselves against the helm.” He pointed at the city with his free hand. “As soon as we’re past the fighting, we’ll climb straight to the tower.”

  “He’ll need to gain more altitude,” Taya exclaimed. “The wireferries—”

  “He knows.” Cristof met her gaze, his gray eyes serious. “And he says that if we crash, it’ll be up to you to protect Ondinium from the Formidable.”

  “Oh, Lady.” Taya leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder. She knew what Amcathra was asking her to do. Again.

  Something exploded next to the ship, close enough for Taya to feel a wave of heat. She opened her eyes and straightened.

  “All right,” she said. “If it’s the only way.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her, his expression sad. Then he headed toward Colonel Agosti and Liliana while Taya and Jinian hurried to the helm.

  Amcathra had lashed a cable around the helm to provide them with something to grip. Taya wrapped her hand around it as she knelt, her tailset scraping the ondium deck and her wings vibrating from the ship’s movement. Professor Dautry had wound another cable around the helm and her waist to hold herself in place. Lucanus had climbed up from the boiler to kneel next to the professor, one hand on the line and the other holding his rifle. Taya guessed his presence meant this was their last-ditch approach— the boiler wasn’t going to get any hotter before they reached the city.

  Captain Amcathra crouched before the creaking wings, his eyes fixed on the city ahead as he shouted orders to the helm.

  Colonel Agosti and Liliana joined them, crouching and grabbing the ropes.

  “Your captain is insane,” Agosti snapped.

  “Any time you want to stand on the prow and signal your army to stand down, go right ahead,” Taya shot back. The colonel looked away, the color high in her cheeks.

  The Alzanan and Demican forces shouted and raised their weapons as the Firebrand passed overhead. A cannon boomed and something large struck the side of the ship, rocking it to starboard. Bullets began to chew up the wooden rails, sending splinters flying everywhere. Several bullets ricocheted off the ship’s ondium plates.

  “Hold fast!” Amcathra bellowed. Taya cringed, grabbing the rope with both hands, as a ragged artillery barrage struck the ship. Something large hit her armature, and she saw a chunk of unplated railing spin across the deck and fall off the other side.

  “Are you all right?” Cristof shouted, grabbing one of her arm-struts to get her attention. She twisted to face him and was alarmed to see a smear of blood across his face.

  “Wha—”

  Another explosive hit the ship and Professor Dautry swore in Mareaux as the Firebrand careened in a half-circle.

  “Straighten us out and bring us up!” Amcathra’s roar carried over the gunfire. Lucanus sprang up to help as Dautry wrestled the vessel back under control.

  “Look! It is the Indomitable!” Jinian crowed, standing and staring at the dirigible they were approaching. She grinned as she tightened the strap of her rifle and checked her kattaka belts. “Thank you very much for the ride, Captain— this is where I get off!”

  “Jin, no!” Taya half-rose, but the kattaka was already running across the deck as the Firebrand raced toward the Indomitable, the ornithopter battered by the dirigible’s gunfire.

  “Captain—” Lucanus gave Amcathra a questioning look. Amcathra scowled, then nodded. With a whoop, the young lictor ran after Jinian, grabbing the ship’s rail and climbing over. They jumped.

  Taya twisted, trying to spot them as the Firebrand skimmed over the top of the Indomitable’s envelope, but she couldn’t see anything as the ornithopter hurtled over the sprawling industrial section of the city, bypassing the Great Gates. Gunsmoke gave way to coal smoke, gritty and dark, as Dautry wrestled the ship into a climb. The Firebrand’s starboard wing barely slipped past one of the manufactories’ towering chimneys. Below them, Tertius’ streets seemed uncannily empty— the citizenry had either been evacuated or were hiding in their homes.

  “The rudder’s been knocked askew,” Dautry called out, “and the port wing’s got a nasty hitch.”

  Amcathra edged to the port wing, which was making an alarming knocking sound. Cristof let go of the helm cable and scuttled over to him.

  “I’ve got it, Janos,” the exalted said, looking askance at the ship’s bullet-riddled rails. “You keep us from crashing into a clocktower.”

  Amcathra nodded, resuming his position on the forecastle and shouting orders. The Firebrand swept over a wireferry tower stop, its dedicate operator throwing open a window to stare at them.

  “The enemy’s closing in!” Taya shouted. The Alzanan vessels were giving chase, leaving the less agilely piloted ornithopters lurching behind to fire at their sterns. Lictors guarding the city walls fired mortars at the dirigibles.

  “Do you have any signaling devices on board?” Colonel Agosti demanded.

  “No,” Dautry replied grimly. Agosti swore, staring behind her with a set jaw.

  The Firebrand swept over the sector wall between Tertius and Secundus. Lictors waved in acknowledgement or support as the ship passed,
then turned to fire their rifles at the pursuing Alzanan ships. Taya didn’t think rifles were going to do any good, but the sector walls weren’t protected with cannon. The Firebrand swept past a startled icarus, buffeting him aside and making him struggle not to stall in their wake.

  “Port wing’s going,” Cristof shouted. Dautry cursed.

  “Hold on tight!” she cried. Taya tightened her grip and Cristof threw himself flat, grabbing the ropes that secured the mecharachnid engine over the old one.

  The Firebrand’s bow rose and the ship began a sharp ascent, throwing Amcathra backward. He grabbed the same rope Cristof was holding, then locked his other hand around Cristof’s rescue harness. Taya held her breath, listening to the engine’s rumble and the port wing’s ugly, mechanical knock.

  Dautry straightened them out. A terrible grating sound came from the port wing and something snapped, flinging one end of a long steel connecting rod into the air. Amcathra threw himself to one side, pulling Cristof with him, as the rod came crashing back down, its end gouging a deep furrow into the ondium hull. Cristof’s rifle strap slid off his arm and the weapon clattered across the deck, then slipped over the edge.

  “Cris!” Taya started to stand. Her husband rolled over and pulled himself back to the engine, grabbing a rope. Taya relaxed, her heart pounding.

  Both wings froze and Dautry sagged against the ropes holding her in place, wiping the sweat off her forehead and knocking her glasses askew. Her long hair had fallen out of its once-neat bun and she impatiently yanked it back over her shoulder.

  Amcathra checked to make sure Cristof was secure and sat up, looking forward. Taya followed his gaze.

  Dautry had brought them on a level with Oporphyr Tower and aimed them straight at it. Propelled by nothing but its own momentum, the Firebrand was hurtling directly toward the ancient stone fortress.

  And now, level with the Tower at last, Taya saw the Alzanan vessel moored by the Tower’s door, a large number nine painted on its side.

  “It’s the Formidable!” she shouted, at the same time that Amcathra leaped to his feet and ran back to the helm, grabbing Professor Dautry’s shoulder.