A Clockwork Heart

by Liesel Schwarz

  The wind picked up and with it came fat cold snowflakes that splashed against her face. She gasped at the cold wind, but pressed on.

  They rounded the corner and started up the street known as the Minories, which ran all the way up the hill back to Aldgate. The dingy shops and narrow houses were all closed and boarded up for the night, although here and there she could see the faint flicker of lamps behind the sack and shutters covering the mean windows.

  They walked until they passed the bright light of the Three Lords Pub, but there was no one hanging about outside in this weather. They would see no help from kind strangers tonight, for no one would risk life and limb to help the awful creature she was dragging along with her. So she kept walking all the way up the hill that led into the city.

  Marsh stumbled once on the now icy pavement, almost dragging her to the ground but she managed to steady them against a wall. She was numb from cold and bone-tired from dragging Marsh along. She looked over her shoulder into the darkness behind them. The footsteps were getting louder, but it was so hard to tell through the muffling blanket of white February snow. But she knew it would only be a matter of time before the undead chased them down.

  On impulse, she turned left into Jewry Street and on to a wooden-clad entrance, marked simply as Saracen’s Head Yard. The low overhang of the buildings offered some shelter from the driving wind and snow and Elle allowed herself to rest for a moment with her head against a sign that read COMMIT NO NUISANCE.

  Marsh grunted and looked up in the direction they had come. She heard the jingle of keys and the muffled sound of footsteps.

  “Do you see them?” one guard asked the other.

  “Nah. They must have given us the slip further down. I told you we should have looked inside that pub.”

  “There is no way she would have taken him into the pub,” the first said. “The punters would have thrown him out straight away.”

  “Let’s try that way anyway. I could do with a quick drink.”

  “Not a bad idea, my son,” the first guard said. “We can leave this lot in the little square outside.”

  “And besides, we are going to need a drink in us to fortify us for the explanation her highness is going to want once she hears what’s happened.”

  The first guard grunted.

  Elle held her breath and listened to them round up the other undead before heading back the way they came. She stood there for what seemed like an age until the only noise she could hear over the wind and the drifting snow was the ticking sound that her husband made.

  “Come on then,” she said to Marsh, as she dragged him out of the alley and toward upper Leadenhall Street. She stumbled along in the dark, all the while thanking the Fates that she was good at navigating.

  Elle nearly cried with joy when, like a benediction, the bells of Old St. Botolph’s church tolled to her right. They had made it to Aldgate. Marsh grunted and turned toward the sound of the bell.

  “This way, we don’t have much further to go,” she cajoled as she turned left, using the momentum of their movement to pull Marsh along.

  The walk from St. Botolph’s church back to Leadenhall Market is not particularly long or difficult, but to Elle it was one of the longest of her life. Her back ached and her arms were burning with the effort of holding on to Marsh as they stumbled along, skidding and slipping on the sludge and ice. Around her, the snow sifted down mercilessly, icing over everything it touched.

  When they finally stumbled in under the red and cream painted arches that made up the market she let out a small sob of relief.

  Leadenhall was closed for the night. A few of the meat hooks and chains that held foodstuffs during the day, swung and squeaked eerily in the cold draft that drew through the market.

  With agonizing slowness, Elle dragged Marsh though the market until she found the cab.

  The driver sat hunched up in his coat, but looked up when she approached.

  “Where are the others?” she gasped.

  The driver squinted in the dark as he took in the sight of them. “The woman in black paid me an extra shilling to wait for you. They said to tell you that they would meet you at the house. No amount of money is worth staying out in this weather, I tell ya,” he grumbled.

  “Please can you take us back to Grosvenor Square?” she pleaded.

  The driver took in the brass muzzle over Marsh’s face. He blanched and recoiled in his seat. “I don’t know what games you are up to, missus, but I ain’t playing. That thing is not going in my cab,” he said.

  “No, you don’t understand. This is my husband. He can’t hurt you and he needs help. Please, we can pay,” she said.

  “Well, show me the money then,” the cabbie said.

  Elle felt about in her pockets and pulled out all the money she had, well in excess of the normal fare home. “Here, take this,” she said as she shoved the money at him.

  The driver took the coins and pocketed them. “That’s a start, but I think that pocket watch would just about even things out. I am taking my life into my hands here.” He pointed at Marsh’s waistcoat. Amazingly, his pocket watch was still pinned to the buttonhole of his waistcoat.

  Elle felt her temper flare. If there was one thing she detested, it was when someone took advantage of those more vulnerable than them.

  Before the cabdriver could say anything, she opened the cab door and shoved Marsh inside. He grunted and rolled over in the seat. “Stay,” she told him firmly before slamming the door and locking it.

  “Oi, what do you think you’re doing?” the cabdriver said.

  Elle pulled out her revolver and pointed it at the cabdriver. The man’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the barrel of the gun. “Now look here—” he started to say.

  “No, you look here, sir,” Elle interrupted. “This has not exactly been the best of nights. I am cold, I am tired and my husband needs help. I have paid you more than the required fare. So now either you are going to drive us home or I am going to shoot you where you sit and take your cab. There are plenty more undead ticking things lurking about in these parts. And if they smell blood, they will rip your body apart so comprehensively that not even your own mother would recognize you,” she said in a low voice. “Do I make myself clear?” She had made up the bit about the limb-tearing for effect, and it seemed to work.

  “All right madam. Please, let’s go,” the driver said as he fired up the spark reactor. “No use in hanging about then,” he muttered faintly.

  Mercifully, the boiler was already hot and the cab started moving. Elle jumped up onto the seat next to the driver and pushed the gun into his ribs. “Grosvenor Square. And with a dash of speed.” She said between clenched teeth.

  The cab driver did not wait to be asked twice. He set off into the snow-slick streets at a speed that was not entirely safe for the prevailing conditions, but Elle did not complain. At least they were going home.

  Their journey passed in a daze. Elle felt her knuckles grow cold and stiff as she kept the revolver pointed at the driver. Icy blobs of snow splattered into her face and hair. And as she sat, she did her best not to let her teeth chatter. Fortunately, the old cab was rattling so much, she didn’t think the driver would notice.

  Elle had never been so relieved as she was the moment they pulled up outside Greychester House.

  She jumped onto the ground and unlocked the cab door. Marsh was still lying on his side in more or less the same position he had been in when she shoved him in there, and somehow, she managed to drag him up and bundle him out the cab without too much difficulty.

  Marsh’s legs buckled under him as they reached the ground but Elle dragged him up onto the first step when the front door opened.

  The cabdriver did not hang about to see what might happen next and roared off into the night.

  “Caruthers, please help me. Anyone, Help!” Elle called out. She was close to the end of her strength.

  “Already here, my lady. We’ve been waiting for you,” Nevill
e said. She noticed he was holding a cricket bat. “The baroness arrived about three-quarters of an hour ago. Mrs. Hinges is tending to her and the professor is waiting in the drawing room.”

  “Thank goodness for that. Would you mind giving me a hand? He is ever so heavy,” she said. Elle gasped as her knees buckled when she stood.

  “Good heavens,” Neville paled when he set eyes on Marsh. “Caruthers! You have better come out and lend us a hand!” he said.

  “See if someone can set the fire for us. Grab his other side,” Elle mumbled. Her lips were so cold that they did not seem to work that well anymore.

  Together, the three of them maneuvered Marsh into the house and onto one of the wingback chairs next to the fire in the main drawing room.

  Marsh sank into the chair with the groan of a man who had been standing for a very long time.

  Elle stood shivering and wet in the middle of the drawing room as the household stepped into action. The fire was stoked, tea was made and someone rushed off to fetch the doctor. Someone wrapped a warmed dry blanket around her and handed her a hot drink that was both tart and bitter on her tongue.

  Another pair of hands led her to a seat. After that, she must have dozed off, because all she could remember of that night were snippets of conversation that drifted past her.

  “ … how extraordinary. He’s completely immobilized … I wonder what makes that thing in his chest tick,” she heard her father say.

  “ … find some dry clothes for her ladyship, before she catches her death,” the comforting voice of Mrs. Hinges drifted into focus.

  Elle came back into awareness when Marsh groaned and tried to rise from the chair. Neville fetched a pair of leather straps to tie him down. Even immobilized, Marsh craned his neck as if he were trying to sense where she was. His face turned from side to side while his milky eyes remained completely blank.

  Loisa appeared in her line of vision. “Eleanor!” She patted Elle’s cheeks.

  “Loisa, thank goodness you are all right. What happened to Jasper?” she slurred.

  “He’s safe and at home. So am I. But I think we need to get you warmed up and dried off before you contract pneumonia,” Loisa said and she nudged her toward where Mrs. Hinges was waiting for her.

  “No, I must hear what the doctor says. We have to fix him before it’s too late,” she mumbled.

  “The doctor will speak to us tomorrow. There is nothing that can be done this evening. But you, on the other hand, need to look after yourself. I don’t think I could manage both of you at death’s door at the same time.” Mrs. Hinges chatted to her all the way to her room and helped her undress as her fingers were so numb that she could not undo her own buttons.

  The last thing Elle remembered before she closed her eyes was the warmth of her comforter that enveloped her as Mrs. Hinges tucked it around her.

  CHAPTER 19

  Elle sat up in bed with a start and looked over at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was half past ten in the morning. Mrs. Hinges must have put something in her tea last night, because she felt puffy-faced despite the fact that she had been asleep for hours. She groaned and struggled out of bed. Every muscle in her body ached and she was so stiff she could hardly move, but she managed to dress nonetheless.

  Loisa was in the entrance hall, ostensibly examining one of the potted plants when Elle came downstairs. Her beautiful porcelain doll face was hollow-eyed and gray in the half-light of the hallway.

  “Loisa, have you rested?” Elle said with concern.

  Her friend shook her head with a nonchalance that belied her fatigue. “I was just on my way up.”

  “What happened last night? It’s all such a blur.”

  Loisa looked grave. “I tried to kill the guards but they were wearing charms or amulets, which sapped my strength, so they fought me off. So when the undead and the guards set off after you all we could do was follow behind. But there were too many of them for me and Jasper to take on alone, so we circumvented them and went to the rendezvous as agreed. We waited and waited, but you did not appear. We feared the worst when a few stray undead started appearing and in the end we had to run or face being captured. We told the cabdriver to wait for you. We caught another cab near Liverpool Street that took us to Jasper’s home and then came here. It was quite an adventure.”

  A series of grunts and cries, followed by the frantic whining of a gramophone record player wound too fast, came from the drawing room.

  Loisa put a hand on her arm. “Prepare yourself. Seeing him in the light is not going to be easy.”

  Elle closed her eyes as the harsh realities of last night came flooding back. Her eyes felt swollen and gritty and she had to blink a few times to get rid of the sudden surge of wetness that blurred her vision.

  Neville and Caruthers had maneuvered her husband into a wicker bath chair and they were both on their knees on the carpet securing the wheels. Marsh was grunting and straining against the canvas sleeves of the straitjacket that bound his arms. Slivers of drool were escaping from the brass muzzle that covered his jaw. Mrs. Hinges stood beside the professor who was in one of the wingback chairs and together they seemed to be directing operations.

  Elle let out a small sob that had formed unnoticed in her chest. “Is that really necessary?” she said over the noise of the gramophone. She walked over to the machine and lifted the needle off the record. The room stilled, save for the grunts and groans.

  “The music seems to calm him, my lady,” Caruthers said.

  She walked over to the chair and put her hands on her husband’s knees. “Shh. There you go. It”’s all right, be still now,” she murmured. She felt the thin filament between them draw tight and Marsh stilled. He turned his grayed-out eyes to her, as if he could see her somehow.

  She rubbed his knee. “There now. See, that’s better,” she said. Marsh grunted and closed his eyes.

  Elle pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and carefully started wiping the drool from his muzzle. As she worked, Marsh suddenly turned his head and tried to snap at her hand. The sound of tooth upon tooth was horrible and the bath chair wobbled under his weight.

  Elle recoiled in horror.

  “I bet you he’s just hungry.” Loisa said. She had come into the drawing room and was standing quietly behind Elle.

  “Have you tried to feed him?” Elle said.

  “Well, I wouldn’t even begin to know what he eats now,” Mrs. Hinges said.

  Despite the utter horror of the situation, Elle could not help but smile. For once in her life, Mrs. Hinges was completely at a loss when it came to catering. Elle did not think she had ever encountered someone Mrs. Hinges could not feed.

  “Perhaps we should experiment, said the professor. “I’m sure we can undo that horrible muzzle once he’s properly secured in the chair. Let me just go and fetch my tools.”

  “How about some porridge to start or some meat broth? See what stays down,” Mrs. Hinges suggested.

  “No porridge,” Loisa said. “This is necromancy. The undead usually crave living flesh. He needs meat. Raw and as fresh as possible.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Mrs. Hinges did her best not to shudder.

  “Neville, what about those cast-iron statues of the lions at the bottom of the stairs? I’m always stubbing my elbows on them and they weigh a ton. See if some of the lads downstairs can give you a hand to get them in here,” Elle said.

  The professor smiled. “An excellent idea, my dear. Iron should modulate the thaumaturgic energy fields and, if my theory is correct, it should dampen his strength a little.”

  “I will get right on it, my lady,” Neville said.

  “Caruthers, I am placing you in charge of the gramophone. Only soft gentle music to calm him,” Elle said.

  “Right away, my lady.”

  Loisa was leaning against the mantelpiece, pale and fragile in the light of the fire. Elle turned to her. “Loisa, we have much to discuss, but first you must rest. We can’t have you turning to dust
here on the rug either, hmm?” Elle said.

  Loisa smiled at her affectionately. “I think I might have a short nap,” she said.

  “Dinner is at seven. We will see you then.”

  The baroness looked decidedly grateful as she swept from the room.

  Elle heard the sound of Marsh’s teeth clicking together near her hand again. While she had been speaking to Loisa, he had leaned toward her, his teeth working furiously as if he was trying to chew through the muzzle to get to her hand.

  Slivers of drool were swinging from side to side as his head moved. The sight of him filled Elle with such anguish that she had to look away.

  “Perhaps we might find a way to put the muzzle back once we’ve fed him. We don’t want him injuring some unsuspecting passerby,” Elle said softly.

  Just then, the deep gong of the doorbell reverberated through the house.

  “The doctor is here,” Caruthers announced.

  Elle turned to the drawing-room door. “Well, let’s see what he has to say.”

  Dr. Miller was a skinny man with a rather large, beak-like nose that, along with his propensity to stoop, made him look very much like a carrion bird. This was rather unfortunate, given the fact that he was a physician and a good one at that.

  “Most extraordinary,” said Dr. Miller as he leaned forward to examine Marsh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

  “We think we can remove the muzzle, but I’m not so sure about that thing in his chest,” the professor said in an attempt to be helpful.

  “Hmm. I wonder. Are those brass screws holding the muzzle in place?”

  “I think I have a screwdriver that would work very well for that,” the professor said as he started rummaging through his toolbox.

  “I will of course need to bring him to the hospital so we can examine the device further,” Dr. Miller said as he examined the source of the ticking with his stethoscope. “And if I might say so, I do believe that he would make an extraordinary subject for a medical paper. This type of science is far more advanced than anything we have seen. The person who invented this is a genius. There could be real benefit for medical research.”