by Peter Oxley
I looked up to see Andras watching me as though he was reading my thoughts. He shrugged and continued: “You are correct that there is much hostility to my… or even our…” he nodded to Byron, “kind, but I have been dealing with such people for thousands of years. Whether you approve of my methods or not, I do have a unique insight into the minds of your people—in particular those in positions of power.”
We glared at him in a silence that would have unnerved any normal person, but which did not seem to faze the demon in the slightest.
Disraeli cleared his throat. “Well, erm, indeed. But you said you needed me to do something. I would have you know that I will not be party to any of your machinations, nor anything immoral or against God or the Queen.”
“Besides aiding and abetting two known demons and a pair of fugitives to act against the express commands of your country’s appointed leader?” Andras said.
Disraeli cocked an eyebrow at him. “Everything is relative, as I am sure you know.”
Andras cackled. “That’s the spirit. Don’t worry: I am not asking you to do anything you would not wish to do. I have been laying the groundwork for this world’s defences, and I need you to go on a tour of a few countries to ensure that they are sufficiently rallied to our cause.” He handed Disraeli a folded piece of paper. “This should help to persuade any naysayers.”
Disraeli glanced at the contents and grunted in surprise. “Indeed it should.”
I looked around the room, conscious that everyone seemed to have forgotten something rather important. “This is all well and good,” I said, “and no doubt highly useful, but what about the small matter of our transportation through the Aether?”
Maxwell grinned. “Now that I know you will appreciate. It is waiting for you at King’s Cross.”
“I am not sure that this will work,” I said as we made our way through the station, attempting to look inconspicuous in our dull brown overalls.
“I know it’s hard, but just try to look like you know what you’re doing,” said Andras, prancing along next to me without a care in the world.
“You are actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“But of course,” he grinned that wide grin of his. “I am finally going home!”
I gave him a long, hard stare. The Aether had been the source of many of my worst nightmares ever since I had become aware of the place. Now, not only were we willingly heading back there, but we were planning to use it as a bridge to the source of my other nightmares: Almadel, the home of the demons that had plagued us for so long.
“I thought you were an exile,” I said. “Surely you should be as nervous as the rest of us.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “You are confusing me with a creature that is naturally burdened with such improvident emotions.”
“Look lively now,” muttered Pearce. “There she is.”
We had rounded a corner and before us stood a train that put all others to shame: a brilliant flower in the midst of a field of parched grass. There was the Juggernaut in all her shining glory. I had last laid eyes on her when she had been but a shadow of her former self, lying battered and broken at the side of the tracks between Sheffield and Nottingham after we had successfully fought off a horde of demons. We had had to abandon her then, but she had been salvaged afterwards and restored under Maxwell’s guidance, a process that was still evidently underway but which looked very far advanced. The engine was as sleek as ever, a metallic stallion with a nose that pointed intensely forwards from a body that was as beautiful as it was impregnable. The metal bodywork, which had been dented, battered and scratched during the battle with the demons, had been hammered back into shape and repainted, now gleaming brilliantly in the sooty sunlight.
“Still takes the breath away,” I said proudly, as I had had no small input to its construction, for once overruling Maxwell’s pedestrian utilitarianism with some design flourishes that stirred the soul as befitted an engine as fast and powerful as this one.
“Remember our roles,” said Pearce. “And keep the two demons out of sight as much as possible.”
Byron and Andras nodded slightly, pulling flat caps further down over their faces as they muttered incantations to make the human eye want to do nothing more than skim over them. I blinked as the spells took effect: even though I knew they were there, my brain wanted to look around and past rather than at them.
A soldier barred our way as we approached the platform, a rifle casually slung over his shoulder. I felt a small wave of relief; we had feared that security would be tight around the engine, but the sight of just this one guard and his negligent manner gave me hope.
Pearce waved some papers at him. “Inspection,” he said. “We need to put it through its paces, make sure it’s still working all right. You’ll have been told to expect us?”
The soldier nodded and stepped aside. “You’re early.”
“Aye, well, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get to the pub, eh?”
“Lucky you,” he grumbled. “I’m nursemaiding this contraption all bleeding day.”
“Well, we’ll try to put on a show for you,” I said. “Keep things interesting.”
He flashed me a bored smile as he waved us past, not bothering to look at our papers. I checked my pocket watch. “We have 30 minutes before the real inspectors arrive,” I muttered to the others.
Pearce nodded, then sprinted to the cabin and jumped aboard while Joshua ducked underneath to check the wheels and sandpipes. I noted with relief that the track was free of any carriages or other engines and that the Juggernaut was not coupled to anything that might slow us down. This was a mixed blessing as, while the engine’s cabin was bigger than most, it would still be a squeeze to accommodate all five of us. However, that was a problem for later, assuming we were able to get the thing moving at all.
“Gus, the water gauges,” called Pearce, gesturing for me to jump up onto the footplate. I did so and ran through the checks that Maxwell had forced me to rehearse over and over again. At the time, I had thought he was simply being far too petty in his usual way, but now I was standing there on the side of the train I was grateful for having been schooled so thoroughly. Once I was satisfied that both water gauge glasses were working, I nodded to Pearce and pulled down the levers that turned on the injectors, watching closely as the gauges filled with water.
Pearce had already ensured that the various brakes were engaged and we were in gear, while Byron and Andras busied themselves with loading kindling and then coal into the grate. I was pleasantly surprised to note that Andras had submitted to the task, for he had grumbled through our rehearsals at the indignity of everything—even more so than I.
I looked around for the coal shovel, cursing as I stood on it and caused it to slam against the side of the cab. “Careful,” hissed Pearce, waving to the soldier to show that everything was fine.
“I did not realise it was there,” I snapped as I righted the shovel and pulled a rag from the pocket of my overalls. “What sort of place was that to store it?” I asked as I placed the rag on the shovel’s broad blade.
“I put it there,” said Pearce. “I thought I would save time and be helpful.”
“Well… thank you,” I snapped, attempting to show exasperation as well as graciousness. From another pocket, I removed a vial of paraffin and poured it over the rag, being careful not to spill any onto the floor.
I patted my pockets and then swore. “Who has the matchbook?”
The others stared at me askance. “I thought you had it,” said Pearce.
“Yes, well clearly I don’t. Do none of us have any matches?” I leaned out of the side. “Josh,” I called. “Do you have the matchbook?”
“I thought you had it,” he replied.
I ducked back in and swore again. “Ask the soldier?” suggested Byron.
I rubbed a hand over my brow. “If there was anything to make him suspicious, a train fireman turning up without something to light a fire is b
ound to do it.” However, I could think of no other option in the circumstances.
Andras cleared his throat. “You know, if you ask me nicely…”
I glared at him. “I did.”
“No. You asked if I had a matchbook. To which the answer is still ‘no.’ However, that is not the real question, is it?”
“This is no time to play games, demon,” hissed Pearce.
Andras held up his hands. “Fair enough.” He turned back to shovelling coal.
Byron glared at him and sighed. “Andras, can you set fire to that rag? Please?”
“There you go,” said Andras, turning back to the paraffin-soaked rag with a grin. He clicked his fingers and a small flame appeared just above his hand. He dabbed the flame to either end of the rag and then straightened up as it smoked and then caught fire.
“Couldn’t you have offered to do that straight away?” I asked. “Without making us go through that rigmarole?”
“And miss out on an opportunity for you to learn something?” Andras replied, theatrically blowing out the flame that had been hovering above his hand. “What if I had just popped up and lit stuff for you all those years ago when your ancestors were living in caves? How would you have ever evolved into the shaved monkeys that you are today, eh? Then again,” he frowned, “maybe that was my mistake…”
I shook my head and turned my attention back to the rag. Once I was happy that it was flaming nicely, I picked up the shovel and deposited it into the middle of the coal and kindling pile before standing back as Byron slammed the firebox doors shut.
“Now comes the painful part,” said Pearce. We made a show of doing various checks while we waited for the fire to take hold of the coals, resisting the temptation to open the firebox to check.
Joshua had been for a walk along the platform to see if there were any obstructions further along the track. As he returned, he pulled a face at us while making a show of being nonchalant as he walked back as quickly as he dared. We held a huddled conference in the cab under the increasingly interested eye of the soldier.
“We have a problem,” said Joshua. “The track’s locked in the wrong position.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean, it’s pointing in a different direction to the one we want to go in,” he said.
“So? Change it,” offered Andras.
Joshua stared at him. “They’re operated from a cabin up there,” he said, pointing to a signal box partway along the track. “But anyone in there is bound to ask why we want to move the tracks, especially when the engine is not supposed to be going anywhere.”
Andras shrugged. “Then kill them and do it yourself.” We stared at him. “Oh, that’s right; we are supposed to be on the side of good and light. I keep forgetting. This is all so confusing. Oh well: leave it with me.” He climbed down to the platform.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To sort out this mess for you,” he said. He started to walk towards the signal box and then stopped. “Which things do you need changing?”
“You see those tracks there?” asked Joshua, pointing. “They need to be aligned in the opposite way to how they are at present.”
“Very good. And this magical control cabin?”
“It’s a signal box—there,” pointed Joshua again. “Maybe one of the other of us should—”
“No, no,” said Andras. “It will give me something to do. And you’re sure I can’t kill anyone? Not even a little bit?”
“No,” I said. “And no stealing of souls either.”
He glared at me in mock exasperation. “So much easier doing it my way,” he muttered as he stalked off.
I turned to ask the others whether this was such a good idea after all, when I noticed the soldier wandering towards us.
“All fine up there?” he called.
“Absolutely,” I replied. “Just a few more checks and then we’ll be done. Our friend there just needed a bit of a walk.” I flinched as the words left my lips.
The soldier frowned. “Can I have another look at your papers?”
“Of course,” said Pearce. “Ah. One moment. We just need to… gentlemen, I need a hand?”
The soldier shifted uneasily. “What’s going on here?”
“A critical moment,” shouted Pearce. “If we don’t release the pressure, it could blow. Give me one second.”
We all huddled round him in the cabin. “We need to move now or he’ll call for reinforcements and we are finished,” he said.
I nodded, checking my pocket watch. “This is about to become moot: the real inspection team will be here at any moment.”
“Then it’s decided,” said Pearce, gesturing for us to take up our positions.
“What if the engine is not ready to move?” asked Joshua.
“It has to be,” said Pearce grimly.
Joshua and Byron shovelled coal into the firebox while I kept an eye on the steam pressure levels. At first there was nothing, and I began to fear that we had started this phase too soon. “Keep going,” said Pearce. “I’ll see if I can keep that man occupied.”
I watched as he jumped down and ran over to the soldier, pulling the forged papers from a pocket in his overalls and waving them at him. From my elevated position, I could see a group of men dressed in a similar fashion to us making their way across the station towards our platform. I turned back to the gauges, willing them to show some movement.
“Wait,” Joshua said to Byron. “If we put any more coal on we might smother it.”
Byron frowned as he nodded. “We’re running out of time. Maybe Andras should have set fire to all the coals while he was here.”
“Was that an option?” I asked incredulously.
“Well if he could set fire to that rag, then I suppose…”
I threw my hands in the air, disgusted at my stupidity as much as the demons’ irritating lack of practicality. “What is wrong with us?”
“We are under pressure and panicking,” said Byron. “Those things never lend themselves well to clarity of thought or deed.”
“Stop being so annoyingly rational,” I said, my voice trailing off as I peered at the gauge. “I think the pressure is starting to rise.”
“Really?” Joshua pressed his head next to mine to look.
“I can feel it,” said Byron. “And not a moment too soon.”
While we had been speaking the engine had slowly, imperceptibly, woken up. After a few more seconds there was no mistaking the feeling of a beast straining at the leash, desperate to sprint away. The brakes were holding her still, but I was not sure how much longer that would be the case.
Not that we wanted the Juggernaut to remain stationary, for the men in overalls were almost upon us, breaking into a run and shouting as they realised that the engine was in operation. I opened my mouth to warn Pearce but he had already noticed, drawing his pistol and disarming the soldier before forcing the engineers to come to a jumbled halt.
“Can you remember how to move this thing?” I asked the others.
“I thought Maxwell told you,” Byron said. “I was in charge of coal.”
“My job was the pressure gauges,” I said, gesturing at them. “Pearce is the one who knew all of that other stuff.”
Joshua pushed us aside. “How did you two manage to save the world? Defeated by a train!”
“My brother’s the technical one,” I protested.
Joshua ignored me as he considered each of the levers in turn, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I am pretty sure that this one will release the main brakes. Do we have enough pressure?”
“I think so,” I replied. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“Get moving!” Pearce shouted from below, backing up towards the engine while keeping his pistol trained on the soldier and engineers, who were now lying prone on the ground with their hands on their heads. “Get the train moving now!”
“A good plan. Why did we not think of it?” I muttered sarc
astically as Joshua released the brake.
Pearce jumped aboard as the vehicle jolted forward, handing me his pistol and taking over the controls. I leaned out the cabin to see that the soldier and engineers had got to their feet and were running along the platform. “Ah, Pearce, they’re coming after us,” I called over the increasing noise of the engine.
“Then deter them,” he called back. “Fire some warning shots.”
“Do you remember how bad a shot I am?” I asked.
“Then aim right at them,” he replied. “That should ensure you miss them comfortably!”
I bit back a retort and fired above their heads, wincing as I did so and then breathing a sigh of relief when none of them fell down wounded. My shots did have the desired effect in checking their advance, sending two of them running back towards the station building, no doubt to call for reinforcements.
I returned to my gauges and noted with relief that everything still seemed stable. We were starting to get up a good head of steam, and would soon be beyond the reach of any pursuers. Assuming, of course, that the rails pointed us in the right direction and remained free of obstructions.
A dark blur shot from the side of the tracks and landed lightly on the cabin roof. A few seconds later, Andras dropped down to join us. “I have saved the day. Again,” he grinned with a bow.
Chapter Six
The track to St Albans was clear of any vehicles or other obstacles. We quizzed Andras on what he had done at the signal box, but aside from assuring us that he had not harmed anyone, he was suspiciously reluctant to divulge any details.
We gave up asking as we drew closer to St Albans, moving aside to allow Joshua the space for him to make the arrangements for his spell. While Andras and Byron helped him, Pearce and I occupied ourselves by dividing our attention between the Juggernaut’s machinery and the outside world, making sure we remained free of any pursuers.
After a few minutes, Joshua stood back.