Confused, Arhyen nodded in return, then turned to face the crowd. With a flourish, he withdrew his dagger. He knew many of the guards would see what he was doing, but from this angle, the Queen would not. Hopefully he could finish before she had him dragged away.
“Watch,” he instructed those nearest to him.
Those in the first row of the mob leaned in, observing him curiously.
He lifted his sleeve, then ran his dagger across his forearm, drawing a bright red line of blood. Some in the crowd gasped, and a few of the guards muttered in confusion. He held his arm out for those nearest to examine, to prove the wound was real. After a few in the crowd nodded in verification, he extended his uninjured arm to Liliana, trading the dagger for the blue vial she’d withdrawn from her pocket. Taking the vial, he held it up to show the crowd, then popped the stopper off with his thumb. With a silent prayer, he drank the blue liquid, hoping it would work as fast as Wakefield and Christoph had claimed. Allegedly such a large dose could heal a shallow wound within minutes.
He held his bloody arm out to the crowd for several quiet moments. His stomach churned with anxiety. Even this might not be enough proof, if it even worked at all, but at least he had their attention. In a grandiose gesture, he swiped the blood on his arm away with his other sleeve, revealing the miraculously healed skin beneath.
“The wound is gone!” one of the nearest men in the crowd gasped. Excited murmurs erupted deeper within the crowd.
“But that doesn’t explain why we were attacked!” someone else shouted.
He glanced to Liliana, ready for her to launch into her explanation of what the blue liquid was and where it had come from, but she simply shook her head and smiled.
Suddenly, something sailed through the air from the direction of the nearest rooftops. With a light thud, Hamlet landed beside Liliana, crouching to absorb the impact of his impossibly far jump. As he straightened, Arhyen realized he no longer wore his mask. The pale, scarred skin of his face was visible, absorbing the murky sunlight.
“Twas I who attacked you!” he announced to the crowd. “Twas I, a creation of your beloved queen.” He rolled his hand in the air, then ducked into a bow in the Queen’s direction.
Arhyen glanced at Victoria, awaiting her next move. Her face was flushed, her breathing seemed heavy. If she ordered her men to attack Hamlet now, she’d never be able to refute the claims against her. The mob was too large to be imprisoned. Many would escape to spread word to the rest of the city.
The crowd was silent for several heartbeats, then Marie stepped forward. “He speaks the truth!” She crouched, then sprung into the air and landed beside Hamlet, showcasing her inhuman grace. “I too am a manmade creation. One that was made to wait on your every need. You were told I could not think, could not feel. But I can feel. For that, I was set to be destroyed.”
The crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs, slowly shuffling away from Hamlet and Marie. They were afraid of them, ready to turn on them for what they’d done. It couldn’t happen this way. They needed to blame the Queen.
Liliana stepped forward, looking small and harmless, even in her black attire. “I too, am nothing but a synthetic creation,” she announced meekly. “I did not take part in the attacks. In fact, I worked to stop them. Still, I understand why they did it.”
The crowd murmured again, then went silent, hanging on her every word. The Queen seemed unable to decide what to do. Perhaps she was hoping Liliana would still follow through with the plan they’d agreed upon, hoping to save her own hide.
“What would you do, if you were told you were incapable of love, yet you felt it?” she questioned, her voice growing in strength. “What would you do, if you were told you weren’t a real person, but for the life of you, you could feel everything a real person feels? When we,” she glanced at Marie and Hamlet, “begin to feel the emotions you all take for granted every single day, we are destroyed and remade, by order of the Queen. A woman,” she began, then cleared her throat to speak more loudly, “A woman who has the formula to heal all that ails you!” She gestured toward Arhyen and his healed arm. “A woman who has the ability to provide synthetic organs to replace your failing ones! She can cure any illness, yet she does not. She hoards her secrets and divulges them only to the wealthy elite. You may blame those who attacked you for taking lives, and you would be entirely right to do so, but you should just as equally blame the woman who has been taking your lives for years! Forcing you to live in poverty, and die needlessly!”
“Hear hear!” several members of the crowd shouted.
“You should blame the woman responsible for the government that has created such unfair wages and conditions, while the wealthy live on your backs!” Liliana continued, surprising Arhyen with her observations. “Blame those who force you to live in squalor, working your lives away for every meal, while those with wealth buy automatons as slaves so they’ll never have to work a day in their lives! Every death that has occurred is not the fault of London’s citizens. The guilty party stands before us!” She gestured back to the Queen and her guards.
“Here here!” more in the crowd shouted.
Finally the Queen had had enough. She stood and bellowed, “Arrest them all! This is treason!”
The guards began to march forward.
Arhyen took Liliana’s hand, prepared to fight his way out and protect her at the same time.
“Halt!” someone shouted from behind the Queen. The guards stopped moving.
Arhyen turned to see Wakefield step forward on the Queen’s dais. “Everything the girl said is true!” he announced. “Everything,” he reiterated. “You have all been lied to! The Queen could have provided you all with advanced medical care, yet she did not. Many have died to protect her secrets. You live in poverty, in part, to fund research from which you will never benefit.”
The guards began to mutter amongst themselves. It was obvious that they were not all privy to the information being bandied about.
“I am your queen!” Victoria shouted. “Now arrest them, unless you would all like to be executed for treason!”
Some of the guards began to swarm forward once more, but others hesitated. Arhyen heard someone question, “Could the Queen have saved my wife? She died of pneumonia last winter.” Someone else in the crowd muttered about their lost son. Then more and more began to question.
The guards still obeying the Queen reached Liliana and Arhyen, but Ephraim stepped between them, then surprisingly, Marie stepped in front of him.
Hamlet, nearly forgotten during Liliana’s speech, turned toward the crowd. “Protect these good people!” he shouted. “It was never our aim to harm them.” It became clear who he was speaking to as those in the crowd wearing all black separated themselves to face the guards.
Arhyen stared at Hamlet in disbelief. “This was your plan all along. You sent Marie to find me, and you let everyone believe you were dead until just the right moment. You let us gather everyone together so that you might have your finale.”
Hamlet snickered, crinkling his scarred face in a way that made Arhyen’s stomach turn. “The Queen’s men killed me,” he explained. “Or so she was told. Your good friend Captain Wakefield made a deal with me to save many lives. He really is a good man.”
“Arhyen,” Liliana hissed, tugging on his hand. “I think it’s time.”
While the majority of the crowd was pushing forward, some were branching off from the back and running toward the city.
“They will spread the word,” Hamlet observed. “And my people will protect the crowd to see this through. It’s time for you to go.”
Liliana released his hand, then threw herself into Hamlet’s arms, wrapping him in a hug. She quickly pulled away, then turned back to Arhyen, ready to go.
“My first hug,” Hamlet observed. “How odd.” With that, he turned and joined the crowd, rushing forward toward the Queen.
Arhyen protected Liliana with his body as they made their way out of the fray, followed by Ephraim. Once they
were free, Ephraim grabbed Arhyen’s arms and stopped him from running further.
He turned back to meet Ephraim’s gaze.
“I intend to see this through,” Ephraim explained. “This is my city. My home. I need to stay and set things right.”
“Then we’ll stay with you,” Liliana blurted.
Ephraim shook his head. “I know this city has done no favors for either of you. It cannot be your destiny to restore it. Now go.” He turned back to the crowd.
“But you might be killed!” Liliana gasped, grabbing hold of his sleeve.
Ephraim looked back over his shoulder at her and smirked. “My dear, it will take much more than this,” he gestured toward the chaos, “to kill the great Ephraim Godwin.”
Arhyen shook his head ruefully. That would be Ephraim’s parting line. “We’ll stop at my uncle’s farm in the South for a few days while we search for a ship to grant us passage. Try to send word if you can.”
Ephraim nodded, then clasped his hand over Arhyen’s shoulder. “You’ve been a good friend,” he paused, “for a thief.”
He grinned. “You’ve been a good friend, for an uptight detective with a major stick up his bum.”
Ephraim rolled his eyes, then stepped back, disappearing into the riotous crowd.
Arhyen took Liliana’s hand, then smiled down at her. A few guards rushed toward them, attempting to bar their escape.
“Time to go, my dear,” he announced.
She hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder, but finally nodded.
The guards charged them, but expecting to enter into combat with humans, were taken off guard as Arhyen darted behind one and crouched, only to have Liliana land a kick on the guard’s chest, sending him toppling over Arhyen’s back. As the second guard watched his comrade fall, Liliana tripped him, stole his pistol, and hit him in the head with the non-lethal end, knocking him unconscious.
They both ran while they could. Eventually the riot would die down, but London would know the truth. They would be heroes to some, and villains to others.
Either way, it was time to leave London behind.
Liliana felt like she could barely breathe, and it wasn’t from the exertion of running. Her heart was torn between excitement and heartbreak. Would she truly never see Ephraim again? And what about Hamlet?
She shook her head and kept running. She’d seen Hamlet on their way to the palace, darting across rooftops and behind buildings. He’d been running with them the entire way, staying just out of sight. It was how she’d known they would be alright approaching the palace, even with all of the guards waiting on the perimeter. She knew Hamlet would not let them go down without a fight.
Though her heart was breaking to leave Ephraim, and even Hamlet, behind, Arhyen’s hand grasping hers as they ran was the only thing that felt truly real to her in that moment.
“We’re being chased,” Arhyen hissed, drawing her out of her thoughts.
Suddenly he darted to the right, pulling her along with him. They ran full speed down an alleyway, their footfalls echoing back and forth between the brick buildings on either side of them. At the end of the alley, they turned left to run down another.
“By whom?” she gasped as he tugged her into another sharp turn.
A moment later, her question was answered as she spotted a man in a Queen’s Guard uniform running down a parallel street. He disappeared from sight as they passed the intersection, then reappeared at the next.
“He’s running too fast to be human!” she rasped.
“Mhmm,” Arhyen responded, not missing a step. “It would stand to reason the Queen would make use of her own technology. With automatons in the Queen’s Guard, they would be nearly unstoppable.”
She didn’t like the sound of that, but seeing no other choice, she continued running at Arhyen’s side. They would face the guards when the time came. Now that they had come this far, nothing would stop her from leaving the city to start her new life. Not the guards, not Hamlet, not even the Queen herself.
The city gate was in sight, but so were the guards. Arhyen had no doubt by this point that they were either full automatons, or altered humans, like him. They’d kept pace with them too easily, and now they were flanking them, preparing to cut off their escape. He should have known the Queen would have a trick up her sleeve to prevent them from leaving the city.
He and Liliana both halted as seven guards moved to block their way. The guards turned on their heels, then simultaneously aimed rifles at Arhyen’s chest.
“What do we do?” Liliana whispered.
He eyed each of the guards, calculating their odds of escaping without getting shot. Liliana would likely survive a few wounds, but he was not sure of his own durability. The only remaining vial of medicine was in his safe back at the apartment. They’d have nothing to help heal their wounds, and would be hard pressed to make the long journey to his uncle’s farm on foot.
“I’ll distract them,” he whispered. “You run.”
“No,” she argued. “I will not leave you. We will fight our way through.”
“That won’t be necessary,” a voice explained from behind them.
Arhyen didn’t have to turn to see who it was. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Hamlet stepped around them, then placed himself in front of Arhyen, blocking him from the armed guards’ view.
He spread his arms as he faced those blocking the gates. “I assume you would all rather capture a terrorist, than a lowly thief?”
The rifles didn’t move.
“Whose orders are they awaiting?” Liliana whispered, leaning close to Arhyen’s shoulder.
The surrounding area was so silent, Arhyen thought he could hear a pin drop. Instead, he heard footsteps coming from somewhere near the guarded gate. To his astonishment, out walked Wakefield to stand amongst the rifle-wielding men.
“They await my orders,” Wakefield answered, though Liliana had barely whispered her question.
Arhyen shook his head. This didn’t make sense. They’d left Wakefield back near the palace amongst the mob. There was no way he could have gotten here so quickly, no way he could have overheard Liliana’s question, unless . . . ”
“You’re an automaton,” Arhyen concluded.
Wakefield inclined his head. “I’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out. Codename Hamlet knew from the start.”
Liliana leaned to peer around Hamlet toward Wakefield. “You two were working together?” she questioned, obviously confused.
Wakefield snorted and took a few steps forward. “Hardly. Hamlet is a much older . . . unit than I. His inconsistencies led to my creation. Unlike him, I would never harm innocents. He cornered me last night after he escaped from the palace. I knew I could not best him physically on my own. He was trained to be a killing machine, impervious to pain. The best I could do was make a deal. He wanted me to claim he’d been destroyed, and in return, he would harm no more innocents.”
Arhyen watched Hamlet’s back as he nodded, verifying everything Wakefield had said. Without turning around, he explained, “I knew the Queen would remain in hiding until she thought I had been destroyed. I only had to follow you, Mr. Croft, to figure out your plan, and as you know, I have many spies. I knew you would never go along with what the Queen requested. And so, I waited. All I ever wanted was for the public to know the truth, to understand the cruelty of those who created me. Now, they know.”
“And now,” Wakefield picked up, “I will carry out my final duty. You, Codename Hamlet, must be eliminated for your crimes against your queen.”
“But you betrayed her too!” Liliana blurted, pulling away from Arhyen and stepping forward. “You verified that we were telling the truth. Doesn’t this mean you’re on our side?”
“There are no sides,” Wakefield replied almost sadly. “Only right and wrong, and my duty is to the Queen. I will be punished for my betrayal, just as Hamlet must be punished for his.”
“Allow Mr. Croft and Ms. Breckinridge to
escape,” Hamlet offered calmly. “Allow them to pass unharmed, and I swear to you, I will not run. I will fight, but I will not run. We can both go down in flames together.”
Wakefield visibly stiffened, glancing back at his armed men, armed automatons, then back to Hamlet. “You would sacrifice yourself for them? Why?”
Hamlet chuckled. “Just as you must carry out your final duty, so must I carry out mine. He loves her,” he stated, gesturing back toward Arhyen. “A man who started out human, is able to see past everything she is. He would sacrifice his own life for her, an automaton. Do you not think that is something worth saving?”
Everyone was silent for what seemed like minutes, but was merely seconds. Arhyen could hardly believe his ears. He knew Hamlet would do what it took to save Liliana, but to hear he wanted to save him too . . .
Suddenly, Wakefield burst out in laughter. He doubled over, slapping his knee. His automaton soldiers stared at him in seeming disbelief.
Eventually he straightened, affixed his gaze to Hamlet, and nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is something worth saving.” He peered past Hamlet to Arhyen. “You and the young lady may pass, Mr. Croft. I thank you for your cooperation. My men will all attest to the fact that you were killed. No one will follow you.”
He could hardly believe his ears. He turned to Liliana. “Are you ready?”
She met his gaze, then turned to Hamlet, who was finally looking back at them. “I can’t just let you sacrifice yourself,” she muttered. “It isn’t right.”
Turning his back on Wakefield, Hamlet stepped toward her, then reached a gloved hand out to cradle her face. “The world isn’t right,” he whispered. “We must all play the hands we’ve been given. You’ve been dealt a chance that few of us will ever know. It is not right, nor wrong, it is simply life. The only promise I ask of you, is that you live it.”
Liliana dove forward and hugged him, weeping against his chest. Arhyen couldn’t help but consider that this was only the second hug Hamlet had ever received. He wasn’t sure why that should matter, but it did.
Liliana slowly pulled away, revealing her tear-streaked face. “I’ll do what you think is right,” she replied to Hamlet, “but it won’t stop me from hoping that you’ll survive this to find your own happiness, even after all you have done.”
Under Clock and Key (The Thief's Apprentice Book 3) Page 17