Beside the waiting area stood an odd vessel that looked something like a boat, with a pointed wooden prow and a curved glass window at the front. A steering wheel stood between the prow and the window, and there was a long red-velvet-cushioned bench behind the window, with a single back down the middle, so the passengers would sit back-to-back.
A tunnel stretched ahead of the vessel, narrowing as it left the waiting area, with a set of railroad tracks leading down it. Behind the vessel at the far end of the cavern was something that looked like the steam-powered dynamo in the theater’s basement. A group of men fed coal into it. About a dozen Mechanics sat in the waiting room.
“Can you take a couple more?” my guide called to the men working on the dynamo.
“Can you drive for us? Our scheduled driver hasn’t shown.”
“He may not make it—there’s fighting. And you know I’m always up for a drive.”
“Then we can take your passenger. We’ve room on this run. We’ll be leaving as soon as we get her charged up.”
“If you’ve got a line open, we’ll need a cab at the other end.” My guide came back to me. “We’ll have you home in no time.”
“What is this?” I asked.
“Our biggest secret—and it is a secret, mind you. Don’t go telling anyone.”
“My lips are sealed,” I promised.
He gestured me to a seat in the waiting area and sat beside me. “About a dozen years ago, when they lived around here, the magpies thought an underground magical railroad would be a good way to get around town, out of the elements. But no sooner did they dig the tunnel and lay the track than they started moving uptown. And apparently there’s no point in being a magpie without your own carriage, so the project fell by the wayside due to lack of interest. We found the tunnels and the rails, and we’ve built our own machines. We can’t use steam engines in the tunnels, so we use dynamos to power the system in places where we can put chimneys without anyone noticing. They use electricity from the dynamos and magnetism to make the cars go, but you’d have to ask someone more clever than me to know how it all works. I just know how to drive it.”
“This is amazing!” I said. “To think all this is going on beneath the surface, and nobody knows.” I thought I now had a very good idea of how the rioters had come and gone so mysteriously.
“We’re ready to go, so all aboard!” one of the men on the engine called out, and the passengers boarded the vessel. The padded bench was far more comfortable than any bus I’d ridden, but I felt exposed, as the vessel had neither roof nor sides. My guide pulled his goggles over his eyes and lit the lantern in his hat. My fellow passengers braced themselves, and I followed their lead.
The vessel shot forward on the rails, zooming into darkness lit only by the pilot’s hat. I couldn’t tell how close the tunnel’s walls were or how fast we were going. We slowed as we entered another waiting area as elegant as the first, but we didn’t stop. Suddenly, we were slung forward again. The next time we slowed, the cavern was unfinished, with only a dynamo and a few wooden benches. We shot forward, and this time when we slowed, we came to a stop.
This waiting area was barely carved out of the rock, with few furnishings. Electric globes hung from the ceiling. The tunnel extended a little farther beyond the station in a bulb-like shape that I realized was a roundhouse for turning around the cars. A few other cars like ours and some large flatbed cars without seats sat nearby on sidings.
“End of the line, all off,” my guide called out. I waited until the other passengers had disembarked before I stepped off, and my guide joined me. “What did you think about that, miss?” he asked me.
“It was incredible! If it didn’t have to be a secret, if you could use that for transit, it would greatly diminish the traffic and noise on the streets, wouldn’t it?”
“We think so. But we’re not supposed to be using it, as the tunnels don’t actually belong to us, and they certainly don’t want us moving about the city freely.” He glanced down at his feet somewhat bashfully, then said, “Um, miss.”
“Yes, I know, put the blindfold on me.”
“I appreciate your being so understanding about this, miss. It’s not that we don’t trust you.”
“I know. You can’t be too careful these days.”
After blindfolding me, he led me down passageways, taking a few twists and turns, until finally we came up a flight of stairs into what felt like a somewhat enclosed outdoor space, like an alley. We stepped briefly into the noise of the street, and then he removed my blindfold and handed me into a cab. I opened the grate between the passenger compartment and the driver’s seat and gave the Lyndons’ address.
While we traveled, I used the small mirror in my bag to straighten my hair after the blindfold and the wild underground ride. I was still smiling from the adventure, which had reminded me why I’d been drawn to the Mechanics in the first place. I might disagree with some of their methods, but their accomplishments impressed me.
Within minutes the cab stopped, and the driver helped me down. Mr. Chastain came out and paid the driver, and an anxious Lord Henry came rushing down the stairs as I entered the foyer.
“Everything went well?” he asked breathlessly.
“Perfectly.”
“I heard the Ares arrived.”
“That’s the warship? Yes, it was there, with a great many soldiers.”
“But you made it home safely?”
I gave him a patient smile. “Obviously.”
He noticed my parcel, and his eyes went wide. “Were you able to…” His voice trailed off in worry as Mrs. Talbot approached.
“These are some books I purchased,” I said, loudly enough for Mrs. Talbot to hear. “I found a bookshop with all the latest paperback novels. They’re my weakness, I must confess. They’re probably not appropriate reading material for a governess, but I believe that if I can read the classics in their original languages, then I should be allowed the occasional adventure story in my spare time.”
“I quite agree. If you don’t mind, I may want to borrow one. I could use some light reading.” He turned to the housekeeper. “Yes, Mrs. Talbot? Is there something you need?”
“I have just received word that our dinner menu may have to be altered tonight, as there was a problem getting supplies from the greenmarket. There seems to be some unrest downtown today.”
“We’ll manage,” Lord Henry said. “It’s sure to blow over soon enough.”
* * *
I was surprised that he turned out to be right. The authorized newspaper reported that a minor skirmish near the university had been quickly put down. I couldn’t imagine that the rebels would give up that easily. I might have accused the Mechanics of playacting, but they were serious about their cause, so I suspected any apparent surrender was part of a greater plot. Unfortunately, the new restrictions still made it impossible for Nat to sell papers in my part of the city, so I didn’t know what the rebels were saying. After being so active, it felt odd to have nothing to do as the rebellion actually started, but I heard no useful information to pass on to them. I hoped perhaps I’d learn something at the ball, where I’d be surrounded by soldiers.
That is, if there was a ball. Would they really send the officers to a ball when a rebellion was brewing and there had been fighting in the streets? Or was that why the rebels had fought and then backed down, to make the British overconfident? If that was the plan, it had worked, because there was no talk of cancellation when the day of the ball arrived.
Flora had her maid, Miss Jenkins, help me dress. She arranged my hair in a style that was less severe than my usual tight knot. Curling tendrils framed my face, and others were pinned into a complicated style at the back of my head. I had a feeling I’d be finding hairpins for days after the ball.
Flora came to my room to check on me before we went downstairs. “You’ll do,” she said curtly, and then she tilted her head and frowned at me, making me wonder if there was something wrong with my appear
ance.
In spite of her frown, I felt like a princess as I swept down the stairs, my skirts rustling around me. Henry waited for us in the foyer, looking rather handsome in a white tie and a tailcoat. He’d attempted to tame his hair, but a few cowlicks had already rebelled. He was adjusting his cuff links, and when he glanced up to see us, his jaw dropped. Flora noticed his expression, turned to study me, then frowned. “Miss Newton, you have no jewelry,” she said.
“Miss Newton doesn’t need jewelry.” Lord Henry’s voice was strangely hoarse as he said it, and his eyes never left me, even when he spoke to Flora. I wondered if I’d done something wrong or chosen the wrong style of gown, but he didn’t seem displeased, merely disconcerted.
Mr. Chastain opened the front door, and Henry offered his arm to Flora to escort her to the carriage. I followed, conscious of my true position in the household for perhaps the first time since I’d been employed. The driver helped Flora up into the carriage. She situated herself in the forward-facing seat. Henry took my hand to help me up, and I took the rear-facing seat. When Henry boarded, he turned to sit beside Flora, but she raised a hand to stop him. “No, you’ll squash my skirts. Sit with Miss Newton.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “As you wish, my lady.” I moved aside and gathered my skirts to give him room. None of us tried to converse during the drive. I grew increasingly nervous about what I would face that night since I had no real idea of what a chaperone should do at a ball. The tight lacing of my corset didn’t help when my breath was already short.
There was a long line of carriages at the governor’s manor, and we spent as much time waiting to reach the doorway and disembark as it had taken us to make the drive up to the tip of the island. I passed the time by looking out the window. From here, I had a commanding view of the city. It was almost like seeing it from the airship. Everything looked calm from this vantage point, but I had a feeling something would happen that night, given what I was sure was a diversionary show at the Mechanics’ theater and the officers being at the ball.
At last, it was our turn to stop under the porte cochere and leave the carriage. Here, as at the Lyndon house, Henry escorted Flora, with me following. A footman announced the arrival of Lord Henry Lyndon and Lady Flora Lyndon as we entered the ballroom down a short flight of stairs.
I’d read plenty of books in which the characters attended grand balls, but the words on the pages hadn’t prepared me for the splendor of the ballroom. Elinor had referred to it as an impromptu gathering, but if this was something just thrown together, I couldn’t imagine what a true grand ball would be like. Even if the room had been bare, the profusion of elaborate gowns in bright colors, along with the brilliant red of the military uniforms and the gleaming brass of buttons and medals, would have been overwhelming.
But the room wasn’t bare. Its walls were mirrored, the mirrors reflecting light from half a dozen magical chandeliers dripping with crystals. The effect was like sunlight striking water on a windy day. Nearly every surface in the room held densely packed arrangements of roses. The air was heady with the scent.
An orchestra played music that made me want to dance, but nobody was dancing yet. Lord Henry led us to a grouping of chairs where we could see the floor but were out of the way of most of the people milling about the room. Once seated, Flora snapped open her fan and used it to shield her face while she studied the attendees.
“The officers aren’t very handsome,” she commented.
“Don’t be rude, Flora,” Henry said absently, as though it was an automatic response that came up even when his mind was elsewhere.
“They can’t hear me, it’s so noisy in here. And I don’t care if they know what I think of them.”
“That’s still no call to be rude.”
“What do you think, Miss Newton?” she asked, turning to me. “Do you see any who are particularly handsome?”
I had to agree with Flora. There was a hardness about these men that made them unappealing, even if their faces and forms were pleasant. The ones who weren’t hard seemed far too soft to be military men. I guessed that these were noblemen who got their rank through their positions. I pitied Flora if those were the only magisters in the group. “These men aren’t to my taste,” I said. But that didn’t mean I would have minded dancing with some of them. It would be a valuable intelligence-gathering opportunity. Not to mention, it would be a pity not to dance at my first ball.
The orchestra played a fanfare, and the guests applauded as a small group of people went to the center of the floor. I recognized the governor and General Montgomery among a few other men in uniform with their ladies. “It’s the quadrille,” Flora explained. “The host and the top guests do this to start the dancing.”
When the quadrille was over, the orchestra struck up a waltz, and the mass of red uniforms fanned out around the room in search of partners. Flora was easily one of the prettiest girls in attendance, so she was much in demand, and in spite of her earlier dismissal of the men, she accepted them all politely. None of them acknowledged my presence. Henry didn’t go in search of a partner, instead staying near me with his eyes on the dance floor. I wished I’d had a better look at the sketch I’d seen in his book so I could recognize whichever lady had caught his eye.
When Flora took a break from dancing and returned to us, the governor came over to greet his granddaughter and Henry. “You are enjoying yourself, my dear?” he asked Flora.
“The officers are good dancers,” she said, fanning herself, “but I don’t much care for their company.”
The governor roared with laughter at that. “You have your mother’s sense,” he said. “Good girl, you stay just like that, and you’ll keep out of trouble.” He wished us a curt good evening, then turned and moved away. He was only a few feet from us when a footman approached him with a note on a silver tray. The governor read it and reacted with shock, then signaled across the room to General Montgomery. They met to the side and spoke for a moment, their heads close together, then the general signaled to a couple of the other officers, and all of them left the room.
“I wonder what that’s about,” Henry said under his breath. He moved away into the crowd, disappeared for a moment, and then returned to us. A few minutes later, he barely suppressed a smile as another footman approached us with a message for Henry. He merely glanced at it before saying, “Matthews is here, says he has an urgent message to deliver. I’ll be back in a moment, ladies.”
Soon after Henry left, the governor, the general, and the officers returned. The officers worked their way around the room, stopping other officers and speaking briefly. The officers then began departing. “All the dancing partners are leaving,” Flora grumbled. Dancing wasn’t my concern. If they had withdrawn the officers, it had to mean something was happening elsewhere.
Elinor’s maid came up to me with a curtsy. “Miss Newton, Lady Elinor has asked to see you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” I said. “Lord Henry has stepped out, and I must chaperone Lady Flora.”
“Oh, go on, Miss Newton,” Flora said with a flick of her fan. “There’s no one left to dance with, and I’m in my grandfather’s house. I’m the safest girl here. I promise to stay right where I am.”
Although I’d been there before, the maid gave me a brief tour of the house on our way to Lady Elinor’s room. She pointed out the library, the parlor where we’d gone the first time I was there, and the closed door to the governor’s study. The latter caught my eye as we passed it. Whatever information had been brought to the governor might be in there.
Lady Elinor was sitting up in bed when I reached her room. “I hope you don’t mind me pulling you away from the ball, but I had to see your gown,” she said. She gestured for me to turn around so she could see it from all angles. “I approve. You look lovely. Are you having a good time?”
“It’s a very nice ball,” I replied.
She laughed. “You haven’t danced a bit, have you?”
“I’m
afraid not, and most of the officers have already left.”
“So soon? But this is early! I wonder what happened. I shall have to ask Father later. Now, run along back to the ball. I don’t want to keep you. Promise me that you’ll dance at least once. Make Henry waltz with you. You wouldn’t think it from the way he bumps into walls, but he’s rather good if he keeps his mind on it.”
“I will try,” I said, not meaning it. My awareness of Henry was unsettling enough without knowing the feeling of dancing with him.
“Do you think you can find your own way back, or should I ring for my maid?”
“I’m sure I can find my own way.”
When I passed the governor’s study, I paused. There was no one in the hallway to see me, and I thought I had a few minutes before my absence would be noticed in the ballroom. I sidled closer to the door and pressed my ear against it. There was no sound from inside. If someone was in the study, he was being very quiet.
I put a cautious hand on the doorknob and found that the door was locked. I could probably have unlocked it magically, but with so many magisters about, I was afraid to risk them noticing the magic. With another glance up and down the hallway, I pulled a pin from my hair and inserted it in the lock. I’d become an expert on unlocking doors that way when I had a young pupil who had a habit of locking himself in his room to avoid lessons. With a satisfying click, the door opened for me, and I returned the pin to my hair, hoping I hadn’t ruined the elaborate arrangement of curls.
The room was dark, but moonlight and lanterns in the garden shone through the window, casting a silvery glow that enabled me to find my way. This study was far neater than Henry’s. The giant mahogany desk was clear, except for a large blotter pad. A single sheet of paper, creased as though it had been folded, lay on top of the blotter. I moved over to the desk and bent to read the message on the page, but then a noise from behind startled me. I whirled to see a masked man climbing through the window—the masked bandit I’d encountered on the train.
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