She was about to take off toward the sound of the shouts when Ephraim, along with three officers in uniform, burst forth from the double doors of their building. Her eyes met Ephraim’s for a split second, acknowledging his unsaid message. As he jogged down one side of the street, she took off down the other, opposite him.
Soon enough, she caught sight of smoke, more hazy gray than the black coal smoke common in the city. Judging by the amount spewing upward to meld with the dreary sky, the fire was large enough to encompass several buildings.
She slowed as she reached the gathering crowd, and the fire that had drawn them. She gazed up at the bright orange flames licking the sky.
“There were people inside!” a woman gasped somewhere to her left.
“The fire spread too quickly,” another muttered.
She strained her hearing to pick out any other comments.
“This is only the beginning,” she heard someone whisper amongst the murmur of the crowd.
“They’ll pay for what they’ve done to us,” another whispered back.
Liliana hopped on her toes, attempting to see who she’d overheard, but the crowd was tightly packed and milling around. It was impossible to tell.
“By jove, you run fast,” a voice panted behind her.
She turned to see Ephraim, hunched over with a pale sheen of sweat on his face. She blushed, realizing she’d run faster than any human should. She could only hope everyone had been too distracted by the fire to notice, lest they question why an automaton was out on her own.
Glancing around warily, she whispered, “I heard someone talking about the fire. It sounded like they knew something about why it was started. Whoever they were speaking to said, They’ll pay for what they’ve done.”
Ephraim gazed up past the crowd at the burning building. Efforts were now being made to put out the fire, but it seemed like a lost cause. The officers who’d accompanied Ephraim were now pushing back the crowd, and Liliana had to step back to avoid being trampled. Not readily identifiable as an officer, Ephraim received the same treatment.
He grabbed her arm and guided her further away. “You do realize what that building was, do you not?”
Trotting beside him, she shook her head.
Once they were well out of reach of the crowd, he stopped and released her. “It was an office of the Royal Society.”
“Royal Society?” she questioned, unfamiliar with the organization.
“A society of science-minded individuals,” he explained, keeping his voice low. “Fairfax Breckinridge and Victor Ashdown were both members.”
“How do you know that?” she gasped as the pieces fell into place.
“I did my research when you first came to London,” he explained nonchalantly.
She frowned. “Research regarding me? You didn’t trust me to tell the truth?”
He smirked. “Foolish girl, you assume just because you bat your big innocent eyes that all should trust you immediately? I had only just met you when I had to sneak you into London without papers.”
Her frown deepened as they began to walk further away from the fire. “Back to this Royal Society. What do they do?”
He shrugged. “What does any scientific or philosophical organization do? Sit around and talk about their ideas so they can pretend they’re somehow wiser than everyone else. While some alchemists and physicians may be worthwhile, the actual organization is pointless.”
“So why target their building?” she questioned. “What would Hamlet have to gain?”
“Well I’d say he obviously wanted to kill whoever was inside,” he replied. “I’ve confirmed that the dead men who were left on Tailor Street were officers of the Queen’s guard, all well established. They were not a unit, and likely would not have been caught together, so it’s safe to assume they were targeted one by one, then their bodies were placed post-mortem. I could not find any record of Catherine’s arrest either, by the way, so it must have been the Guard who took her.”
He glanced over his shoulder toward the burning building again, then forward as he continued walking. “Now we’ll have more dead men to identify, though it will be difficult with the fire. We’ll likely have to wait until their families report them missing.”
She chewed her lip, digesting the information. “So we know that Hamlet is targeting each of these men for a reason, but we do not know what that reason is, nor who will be next. We have no way of stopping him, or knowing if he should even be stopped.”
“Of course he should be stopped,” Ephraim snapped.
They reached the end of Market Street and continued in the direction of Arhyen’s apartment.
Liliana took a deep breath. “I’m not entirely sure he should be stopped. Are we not against the London Network?”
Ephraim shrugged, keeping his eyes forward. “Who knows? As far as I’m concerned, we may have been dealing with only the splinter groups this entire time. We have no idea the intent of the actual organization, especially if the Queen’s Guard is somehow involved.”
Liliana shook her head. “I believe they killed my father, and I believe that they create automatons only to torture them and force them to obey, and now they’re holding Arhyen prisoner because they want to find Hamlet and torture or kill him. I cannot in good conscience think of them as anything but my enemies.”
Ephraim was silent for several seconds as their footfalls echoed off the buildings surrounding the narrow street they’d entered. Finally, he shook his head. “For a frighteningly intelligent woman, you are frustratingly naive.”
She scowled over at him. “I am not.”
He shook his head again. “Ninety percent of the information we’ve obtained has been from Hamlet. Only a fool would blindly believe all they’re told from a single source. For all you know he killed your father.”
“He did not,” she snapped, unsure of why she was arguing so vehemently. She couldn’t be wrong about everything.
“No?” he pressed. “You’ve seen how quickly and silently he can kill. You have incredibly perceptive senses, yet you never saw your father’s killer, nor did you hear any struggle. You simply found him, dead.”
She stopped walking and turned toward him. “How do you know that?” she gasped.
He had the grace to look slightly abashed. “Arhyen told me the details,” he admitted, “and I’ve believed Hamlet the culprit since we first laid eyes upon him. He was ready for you as soon as you entered the city. I believe he followed you here, all the way from your father’s compound.”
“My father died a long time before Arhyen found me,” she argued. “Are you suggesting Hamlet waited in the woods all that time?”
“No,” he replied thoughtfully. “He committed crimes within the city during that time frame so he could not have been waiting out there all along. But he already admitted he knew Arhyen had been hired to find your father’s journal beforehand. I think it likely he followed him to the compound, then followed the both of you back.”
She shook her head over and over. He had to be wrong. He was jumping to so many conclusions without a shred of proof. Anyone could have killed her father.
“My, what an excellent detective,” a voice commented from above.
Liliana whipped her gaze around the empty street, then finally settled on the roof of a nearby building. Atop the low roof sat Hamlet in his customary mask and low top hat.
“Thank you,” Ephraim said cooly. “I know.”
Hamlet inclined his head, then hopped down from the top of the building, barely making a sound as his feet touched down.
“Y-you’re not saying he’s right?” Liliana stammered, completely caught off guard. How long had he been listening to them?
He nodded, not making a move to close the distance between them. “I apologize for misleading you, but I did not want you to judge me for my actions. Unfortunately, it is all as he said. I followed Mr. Croft to your father’s compound, then stowed away on the train you boarded on the way back. This was a
long while after I killed Fairfax Breckinridge and failed to find his journal. I had not expected someone like you to be there. I fled before my mission was complete.”
“B-but why?” she asked, her voice cracking with the bitter sense of betrayal.
“All part of my plan, I’m afraid,” he explained. “I apologize for leaving you in the dark for so long, but do not fear, it will be over soon.”
Ephraim stepped protectively in front of Liliana, his hand on his pistol.
Hamlet didn’t move. “Surely you realize you are not my enemies?”
“Nor are we your friends,” Ephraim hissed.
Hot tears betrayed her as she stepped around Ephraim to face Hamlet without fear. “If that is the case, then tell me what all of this is for. Tell me why you murdered my father, and why you followed me to London, if that is truly the case.” She took another step toward him, daring him to attack, or to run away.
He didn’t move, except to tilt his head. “I’m starting a revolution, my dear, surely you’ve figured that out by now? Why should these men of science hold all the power? I’ve never seen an ounce of humanity in any of them. No, I’m going to expose their secrets. They’re all frightened now of what I’ll do next.”
“What about Arhyen!” she cried, finally losing her composure. “What happens to him when your revolution begins!”
“I assure you, he will be safely returned to your side,” he replied. “Although, scientific abominations that you both now are, I would not advise remaining within the city.”
She glowered at him. “I’m going after Arhyen now. You have proven yourself a liar. I no longer trust you to return him to me.”
Hamlet chuckled. “That will not be necessary. I only came to warn you. It seems he has switched sides.”
Liliana was momentarily confused, until she spotted a lone figure at the end of the street. Her heart seemed to skip a beat, then she propelled herself forward. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran. Moments later, she slammed into Arhyen’s waiting arms. Arhyen. He was somehow free, cradling her in his embrace. Was she dreaming?
He lifted her and spun her around, then gently let her back down to the ground.
Laughing and crying, she pulled away enough to see his face. “How?” she questioned, still not believing her eyes.
“I managed to strike a deal,” he explained, “though we are far from safe. I debated even coming to see you for fear the LN would use you against me, but I couldn’t risk you getting caught up in the perils to come. I need you to leave the city immediately.”
She shook her head, suddenly stunned, and pulled the rest of the way out of his embrace. He seemed thinner than he’d been before, though he appeared well-rested and clean shaven. “W-what?” she stammered. “You have to be joking.”
“I’m entirely serious,” he continued. “If I fail my part of the bargain, they will learn of your existence, and they will come after you.”
“If they’re still alive,” Ephraim commented, his footsteps signaling his approach to Liliana’s back. “Hamlet might just kill them all.”
Remembering Hamlet, Liliana whipped her gaze over her shoulder, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“One of his famous exits,” Ephraim explained. “And, I’ll do the gentlemanly thing and not say I told you so.”
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him, punch him, or both, and she was having much the same feelings toward Arhyen, though she was still overjoyed to see him alive and well.
Not seeming to notice her conflict, Ephraim turned his questioning gaze to Arhyen. “Now what’s this I hear about you switching sides?”
Chapter 7
“What did they do to you?” Liliana questioned as they walked back toward the apartment. Before Arhyen could answer, she continued, “You said you struck a deal to get out. What kind of deal? Are you going to be alright? Do you need to sit down and take a break?”
Ephraim remained silent as he walked by her other side, not offering Arhyen the least bit of assistance.
Arhyen stopped walking. Facing her, he forced a smile, masking his agitation at seeing Hamlet with her. “I assure you, I’m fine, and I will explain everything as soon as we get back to the apartment.” He began to walk, then stopped again. Though he wanted to wait until they were safe within the apartment to explain things, his question simply couldn’t wait.
“What was Hamlet doing here?” he blurted. “Do you know where he’s going?” Perhaps if she already knew Hamlet’s plan, he could tell Wakefield and get them out of this entire mess.
She frowned. “No, we just know that he,” she hesitated, glanced at Ephraim, then shook her head, “it doesn’t matter.”
He wanted to press the issue, but her expression stopped him. He reached up and wiped a single tear as it slid down her cheek.
“Would you care to tell us what on earth is going on?” Ephraim interrupted, stepping up behind him.
He sighed and lowered his hand. “We’ll need to stop by the apartment. I’ll explain everything there, then we’ll leave for the train station.” He felt instant pain at the notion, yet, he had to do it. He had to let her go if he wanted to save her from the London Network, and from whatever Hamlet was planning.
Liliana’s hurt expression quickly turned hostile. She stomped her foot. “I’m not going. I’m more physically capable of surviving than you are. If anyone is to stay, it should be me.”
He shook his head, then gently took her arm to keep her walking. She might be more physically capable, but she might not be for long. He briefly debated telling her about the changes to his blood composition, but quickly dismissed the idea. She had enough to worry about. He wanted her focused on her own survival.
“I’m not going,” she muttered again as they walked.
He remained silent until they reached the apartment. Truth be told, he didn’t feel the need to rest at all. Physically, he felt magnificent. Was it all thanks to the bright blue liquid, contained within several vials in his front pocket? Did it matter?
He waited while Liliana unlocked the apartment, then opened the door. She went in first, followed by Arhyen, then Ephraim, who shut and locked the door behind him.
Arhyen gazed around his apartment. Their apartment, really, for it surely belonged to Liliana as much as it did to him at this point…though it might not belong to either of them if they didn’t pay rent soon.
It was all well enough, they might not need it by tomorrow.
He moved forward and stepped around the sofa, peering curiously at the mess on the low table. He recognized the largest device as a microscope, though he’d never used one. There were a few books, a few empty beakers, a pair of long tweezers, and various scattered papers. He leaned over, eyeing the papers more closely.
He lifted one in his hand, then turned back to Ephraim and Liliana, who were both watching him expectantly. “What is this?” he questioned, gesturing at the stained paper in his hand.
Liliana stepped forward. “We’re not sure. It was found in the Watch Captain’s home.”
He looked down at the paper again. The Captain of the Watch had been involved with one of the splinter groups of the LN. It couldn’t be a coincidence. With his free hand, he lifted one of the vials from his pocket, then held it next to the largest stain on the paper.
Liliana hurried to his side, her gaze affixed to the vial. “Where did you get that?” she gasped.
He glanced over to meet her gaze. “This is my leverage against the LN. It’s a medicine.”
She looked up at him in shock, then shook her head. “This,” she pointed to the stained paper, “was found all over the Captain’s home. It was still fresh when he was arrested, so it likely happened the night before his confession.”
He pursed his lips in thought. They really shouldn’t be hanging around talking about this. They needed to get moving . . . but, “Perhaps he was given a cure to his illness in exchange for confessing his crimes?”
Ephraim joined them, snatching the
vial from Arhyen’s hand. He glared down at it in his palm. “Christoph, the former Captain of the Watch, is dead. He was found in his cell with no signs of foul play. If this was the cure given to him, it did not work.”
Arhyen’s eyes widened. “Well I sincerely hope we are mistaken, because this was the same cure given to me.”
While Liliana appeared horrified, Ephraim just seemed thoughtful. “In what way do these vials serve as leverage?” he asked.
“This may come as quite a shock,” Arhyen began, “but in order to explain that, I must explain something else first. The London Network is not an independent, underground organization, as we once thought. They are actually in the employ of the Queen, or so I’ve been told. I have no actual proof, but I believe the man who provided me with this information to be genuine.”
“Oh,” Ephraim began, sarcasm clear in his tone. “So that must be why six verified members of the Queen’s Guard were killed, and why an office of the Royal Society was set aflame.”
His meeting with Wakefield flitted through his mind, recalling his rage at losing his men. “Then he was telling me the truth,” he mused. “He told me his men had been attacked by Hamlet.”
“Along with Liliana’s father,” Ephraim added.
Arhyen turned in time to see her scowl at Ephraim, but her expression softened as it turned toward him. He’d been longing to feel her gaze every single moment of the past weeks. He soaked it in, knowing he’d likely not have it again after today. He could not risk it. He should not be enjoying it now at all.
Seeming to think he was gazing at her in hopes of an explanation, she began, “Yes, he not only killed my father, but followed you to my father’s compound, knowing you were searching for his journal, which he had failed to obtain.”
Arhyen’s gut clenched, remembering the brief glimpse of the masked figure he’d seen in the woods outside of the compound. “How could he have failed?” he asked. “All I had to do was ask you for it.”
Under Clock and Key (The Thief's Apprentice Book 3) Page 7