Under Clock and Key (The Thief's Apprentice Book 3)

by Sara C. Roethle

  “We’ll never make it in time,” Ephraim panted, giving voice to Arhyen’s worries. He stopped walking and removed his fedora to wipe his sweat-slick brow with his sleeve, then lifted his arms over his head to stretch. His back popped, and he cringed. “You two should run ahead without me.”

  Arhyen met Liliana’s nervous gaze.

  She nodded. “Do you think you can keep up?”

  Could he? He wasn’t sure, but he was willing to try.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Ephraim said somewhat sarcastically. “I’ll just make my way on my own, with only my pistol to protect me.”

  Liliana, still looking as fresh as she had that morning, smirked. “You’re safer here than we’ll be confronting Hamlet. You know full well we wouldn’t leave you otherwise.”

  Arhyen thought he could almost detect a blush on Ephraim’s face, though there was no time to mock him for it. He turned back to Liliana. “Let’s go.”

  She nodded, then spared a final glance for Ephraim. “If we do not see you at the palace, we’ll reconvene at the apartment in the morning?”

  Arhyen shook his head. “Unwise. If we fail, Wakefield may send men there to find us.”

  Ephraim smirked. “If we fail, meeting up again will be the least of our concerns.”

  Liliana opened her mouth to argue, but Arhyen placed a hand on her arm. They were running out of time, and Ephraim was right. If they failed . . . he shook his head. Thinking about it now would do them little good.

  “Let’s go,” he coaxed, still holding onto Liliana’s arm.

  She frowned, but nodded, and they both began to run, leaving Ephraim behind. Liliana kept a few steps behind him since only he knew the way to Buckingham Palace. They ran past the last three blocks of factories, and into the old wealthy district. Most of the homes had fallen into disrepair, long since abandoned for the more trendy district of White Heights.

  Arhyen never stopped scanning the area for white masked figures, though it seemed the Queen’s Guard had scared them off. Still, why were they following them in the first place? Had Hamlet sent them to keep Liliana out of trouble, or did he know they were coming for him? At least one of the men, the one he’d confronted in the alley, had been an automaton. For all he knew, Hamlet had an entire army of automatons, and perhaps others who’d been experimented on like himself. Perhaps he’d even recruited some of Hazel’s leftover followers.

  He shuddered as his feet splashed through a muddy puddle. If that was the case, they stood little chance of succeeding. Just facing Hamlet was risky enough. He’d managed to slaughter an entire farm building full of half automaton men on his own. Though he’d sustained serious injuries in return, he was still a more than formidable foe. One Arhyen secretly hoped he would never have to face. He already knew what the result would be.

  “People,” Liliana observed, pointing to one of the nearby mansions.

  He slowed to a jog to observe a group of seemingly poor folk huddled near the front of the decrepit building, while a large man attempted to break down the door.

  “Looking for a place to hide,” he observed. “We should leave them be.”

  “What if they know something?” she questioned softly, her voice hitching as her feet rhythmically pounded the cobblestones.

  “There’s no time,” he replied. “We must stick to our plan. Reach the palace and find Hamlet.”

  He didn’t miss her hesitant nod, nor the way her fingers brushed her coat pocket where the small vial of poison hid. He knew she didn’t want to kill Hamlet, but there was no other choice.

  “How do you intend to make him drink?” he asked abruptly.

  She nearly stumbled before righting herself to continue jogging. They were beginning to see more and more people, all scared, some injured, some shaking and seeming to recover from the effects of synthetic emotions. They likely thought the worse was over now. How wrong they were.

  “I don’t know,” she answered finally, tucking a stray lock of red hair back under her cap as she jogged. “I’ve been trying to think of a way, but-”

  “But you don’t want to do it,” he finished for her.

  She turned wide eyes to him, then quickly averted her gaze.

  “It’s alright,” he pressed. “I know you’re not the killing type.”

  She stopped running, forcing Arhyen to halt beside her. “It’s not just that,” she blurted. “I just don’t want to kill him! I know he’s done horrible things. He killed my father, and now he’s destroying the city, but I understand why he’s doing it. He did not choose this life. It just doesn’t seem fair!”

  Arhyen was at a complete loss for words. He’d noted her hesitation to harm Hamlet from the start, but he’d never expected her to be on his side in all this.

  “Liliana,” he began patiently. “He’s killing innocent people.”

  Tears began to fall down her face, making her blue eyes sparkle. “I know. I know what he’s doing, but he has also saved my life. He saved yours too. And Ephraim’s. Do we owe him nothing?”

  “Perhaps we do owe him,” he sighed, anxious to get moving. Some of the gathering crowd were beginning to stare at them arguing in the middle of the empty street.

  “Then how can we kill him!” she cried.

  He shook his head. “It’s what we have to do to survive. If we do not stop him, the London Network will come after all of us. If we do not stop him, we both will die.”

  “There must be another way!” she began to sob. “Perhaps he can be reasoned with. He’s listened to me before.”

  Arhyen opened his mouth to argue, then his eyes opened wider. Behind Liliana approached an entire group of masked figures, all clad in black.

  The figure at the front of the group stepped forward. “How touching,” he observed in his cultured tone.

  Liliana gasped, then whipped around. “Hamlet!”

  He removed his black top hat, then swooped down into a bow. His minions remained silently standing behind him.

  Raising from his bow, he took another step forward. “I’m glad to see you well, Mr. Croft, though I had advised Ms. Breckenridge to let you stay put.”

  Arhyen scowled. “Do not blame her. I got out on my own.”

  Gazing at Hamlet, Liliana stammered, “D-did you-”

  “Hear everything?” Hamlet questioned. “Why yes. You know I have impeccable hearing.” He turned back to his minions. “Half of you go keep a look out,” he instructed. “Time is short, and I do not want to be interrupted.”

  Arhyen watched four of his minions trot away, leaving four behind, plus Hamlet. Nervous sweat began to bead on his brow, though it was freezing outside. If Hamlet knew they intended to kill him, then . . .

  Hamlet took another step forward. “I must advise you both to return to Mr. Croft’s apartment. I assure you, come morning, you will not be in danger . . . at least not from the London Network.”

  Arhyen moved to place himself in front of Liliana. “For some reason, I do not find that comforting.”

  Hamlet chuckled. “You honestly think I would harm her, after the pains I have suffered to keep her alive?”

  Not trusting Hamlet’s words, he took another step, shielding Liliana with his body.

  “I implore you to step aside, Mr. Croft,” Hamlet stated calmly, eerily tilting his masked face as he observed them. “I would have a word with Ms. Breckinridge before I depart.”

  He debated taking Liliana’s hand and running, but knew he could not. This might be their last chance to stop Hamlet, and she could handle herself. Grudgingly, he stepped aside, then quickly met Liliana’s gaze, beseeching her. Once Hamlet was close, they could shove the poison down his throat.

  Hamlet took several more steps forward, placing himself within reach of both Arhyen and Liliana. Arhyen’s skin broke out in goosebumps. If Hamlet laid a finger on Liliana, he would kill him himself, poison or no.

  “I hear you have something you’d like me to drink,” Hamlet said curiously.

  Arhyen attempted to hide
his surprise. He really had heard everything. Had he been following them just out of sight the entire time?

  He watched as Liliana blinked up at Hamlet.

  Please, just give it to him, he thought, unable to speak his wishes out loud. Perhaps Hamlet didn’t understand that the liquid within the vial would paralyze him.

  Liliana glanced at Arhyen, then bit her lip as she turned back to Hamlet. “Please, just stop what you’re doing. You’re killing innocent people.”

  “No one is innocent,” Hamlet scoffed, straightening his top hat. “Do you think any of these so-called innocent people would even spare you a glance if they knew what you are?”

  “Th-that doesn’t matter,” she stammered. “They do not deserve to die, simply for not understanding.”

  “Show me the vial in your pocket,” he instructed, ignoring her argument.

  “Leave her alone,” Arhyen interrupted. “You’re frightening her.” If she gives him that vial, he thought, we’re finished.

  Hamlet snickered. “Oh, methinks our dear Liliana does not frighten so easily.” He turned back to her. “Now please, give me the vial.”

  Arhyen watched on in horror as she lifted a trembling hand to her pocket and withdrew the vial. She stole a glance down at the black liquid, then handed it to Hamlet.

  He received it with his black gloved hand, popping the lid off with his thumb. He held it up to the gray sky and peered at the liquid, then lowered his gaze to Liliana. “Would you like me to drink it?”

  Arhyen froze. Did he really not understand what it was? Was he so trusting of Liliana that he believed she would never dream of poisoning him?

  He watched as tears began to fall down her face, and knew she’d never be able to go through with it. He was surprised to realize he didn’t blame her. He could never fault her for having more compassion than anyone he’d ever met, even if it was misguided.

  Hamlet lowered the vial. “Please, do not cry. I did not mean to upset you. I was simply asking if it is your wish for me to drink the contents of this vial.”

  Liliana shook her head over and over. “You don’t understand,” she blurted, “what’s in the vial will paralyze you. The LN gave it to us to kill you.”

  Hamlet stared down at her for several heartbeats.

  Arhyen tensed, prepared for a violent reaction.

  Instead, Hamlet took on an easy stance, the uncapped vial still in his hand. “Yes. My apologies for eavesdropping. I know the purpose of this poison.” He lifted the vial in salute, like one would when sharing a drink with friends. “My question to you is, would like me to drink it?”

  “I don’t understand,” Liliana gasped, the tears still steadily flowing down her face.

  “If you do not want me to finish my grand plan,” Hamlet began, “then I will drink this vial. Truly, I have nothing to live for if I cannot have my revenge.”

  Arhyen gritted his jaw in frustration. Hamlet was toying with her. He’d never actually drink the poison.

  “I don’t want you to finish your plan,” she breathed.

  Hamlet nodded, then lifted the bottom edge of his mask enough to reveal brutally scarred skin. He lifted the vial toward his lips, somehow spared the scarring that consumed most of his chin and lower cheeks.

  “But I do not want you to drink what’s in the vial!” Liliana shouted, reaching for him.

  Arhyen’s mind was spinning with adrenaline as Hamlet lowered the vial, then his mask. His remaining minions muttered amongst themselves in confusion.

  “Either I drink the vial, or I finish my plan,” Hamlet explained. “There is no other choice.”

  Liliana buried her face in her hands and continued to cry. “This should not be my choice,” she sobbed. “Please, do not make me choose.”

  “Liliana,” Arhyen began, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

  “No!” she cried, pulling away. “I know what you would have me do, but I cannot.”

  He approached her again while Hamlet watched on. “If you choose to let him go, I will not fault you for it,” he assured. “It’s alright.”

  She lifted her face from her palms and peered up at him with red-rimmed eyes. She met his gaze for several seconds. Seeming to have gained her final answer from his expression, she marched up to Hamlet, took the vial from his grasp, then dumped it on the cobblestones.

  “If you continue with your plan I will be forced to stop you by any means necessary,” she stated boldly, “but I will not cause your death when there is still hope of saving you. This choice is yours, not mine, and you cannot force me to make it for you.”

  Hamlet watched her for several seconds, then inclined his head. “So be it.” He turned to Arhyen. “I would bid you adieu, Mr. Croft, but I believe the proper parting words in this situation are, see you soon.”

  With that, he turned away, gesturing for his minions to follow.

  Arhyen debated going after him and sticking a knife in his back. He glanced at the black liquid pooling around the cobblestones.

  “I-I just couldn’t do it,” Liliana continued to sob. She looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m s-sorry.”

  He pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms, only then noticing that their onlookers had fled at the appearance of the masked men. “He was only toying with you,” he assured. “He never would have willingly drank poison.”

  He was glad Liliana couldn’t see his face, because he really wasn’t sure about his statement. Would Hamlet have willingly given in, if only Liliana had asked?

  Either way, he’d made it clear that death was the only thing that would stop him from finishing his plan.

  He held Liliana close as she cried, trembling like an injured bird. It was now clear to him that he would be stopping Hamlet on his own, or at the very least, he would die trying.

  Liliana finally managed to quiet her tears, but found herself reluctant to pull away from Arhyen. At that moment, safe within the circle of his arms, she could pretend she hadn’t just doomed all of London. She knew Hamlet deserved to die, and that his death would prevent the deaths of many others, yet she’d still failed. Perhaps she was the one who deserved to die.

  Arhyen’s arms around her loosened, then he slowly pulled away to peer down at her with his kind brown eyes. “I want you to return to the apartment,” he instructed.

  Shocked, she pulled away from him.

  “I should never have put you in this position,” he continued. “I knew you didn’t have it in your heart to kill him, and it was wrong of me to place that burden upon you. I only thought-”

  “That I was the best chance of getting him to take it,” she finished for him. “And you were right. I didn’t even have to force it upon him. He offered to take it, and I said no. I’ve doomed us all.”

  He gripped her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. “You haven’t doomed anyone. I will stop him. You will return to the apartment where it’s safe. I want you to lock the door behind you, and do not emerge until I return.”

  She felt sick at the thought of separating. She’d already thought she’d lost him too many times, and she could not bear another. “He’ll kill you!” she argued. “I cannot let you go alone. Surely, if he’s about to harm others, I will not hesitate. If he’s about to harm you, I know I will not.”

  “Liliana,” he began again calmly. “Please just go home. Do not worry about me.”

  “That’s like asking the sun not to shine,” she blurted, realizing she hadn’t chosen the best analogy, considering the sun had been blotted out by heavy clouds all day, and now was barely visible even as it set.

  He released her arms. “I’m not taking you to Buckingham Palace,” he began again. “Either you go home, or we’ll both wait here until Hamlet finishes what he started.”

  She stared at him for several seconds, hoping to call his bluff, but his gaze did not relent.

  “You wouldn’t,” she accused.

  “I would,” he continued. “I’d rather have to save you from the London Network tomorrow, tha
n force you to do something that would break your heart, because I can see now, that’s exactly what killing Hamlet would do to you.”

  “It would not!” she gasped. “I can handle it.”

  He shook his head. “I like to think that perhaps your heart is mine to protect. If it is, then I believe that is my primary duty. So please, go home.”

  Her mind was churning like an angry river. How could he just tell her to go? “We’re running out of time,” she urged.

  With a patient look on his face, he crossed his arms, waiting for her to make up her mind.

  “You can’t do this,” she insisted, but he simply continued to wait. She could see there would be no convincing him.

  “Fine,” she breathed. “Just go before it’s too late. I’ll go home.”

  Almost too fast for her to react, he grabbed her again and kissed her so passionately it stole her breath. She returned the kiss, fighting the tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

  He pulled away and gave her the most heart-wrenching look she’d ever seen, then turned and ran in the direction Hamlet and the others had gone.

  She watched his back until it grew small enough to disappear, then counted to ten before surveying the street around her. Now where had those people gone? Surely one of them could tell her how to get to Buckingham Palace.

  Arhyen might be much faster than he used to be, but he still wasn’t faster than her.

  Chapter 10

  Arhyen pumped his legs as fast as he could, which was considerably faster than he thought himself capable. Darkness had fallen, and unfortunately his eyes didn’t seem any better than they’d been before. It was difficult to see without the street lamps of the more populous areas of the city.

  He pushed his legs faster. He was no Liliana, but he hoped he could reach Buckingham Palace in time to stop Hamlet. How he would do that, he was not sure. He could barely gather his thoughts enough to concoct a new plan. His mind continuously flashed back to Liliana’s tear-streaked face. Had he been wrong to send her home? He didn’t like her being out on her own, but the same logic applied to her as it did to Ephraim. Whoever reached the palace first was the one in most danger. He would be the one in danger, not Liliana, and that was how he wanted it.