Boots for the Gentleman

by Augusta Li

  Querry pushed off hard with his feet, propelling himself across the alley. He closed the distance, but his fingers couldn’t get purchase on the slippery slate, and he slid down. At the last moment he got hold of the drain pipe and held to it for dear life. It buckled and bowed under his weight, but eventually held. Using every ounce of strength he still possessed, Querry pulled himself onto the roof and made his way across, his muscles screaming in protest. He could see Thimbleroy’s fenced-in lawn just below him. He crouched down and took his pistol from his belt, but in the chaos he could barely isolate his allies from his enemies. Every time he got a guard within his sights, the man either moved or a group of rebels converged around him. He could do no damage to the steel monstrosities that lumbered up the street, exhaling steam, leaking grimy oil, and delivering death to anyone who stood in their way. Querry moved closer to the corner of the roof above the street and tried frantically to see the cathedral through the smoke and rain. He definitely detected movement in front and around the side. He had to get to Frolic and the others, had to defend them. Desperately he searched for a way to the ground that wouldn’t leave him completely open.

  He’d just resolved to jump when he heard a loud whir approaching. He looked back the way he’d come and saw a large disk atop a conical series of gears and propellers. As it came closer, he noticed the roof was missing; it must’ve opened up to allow the dais to detach. In the center stood the gold coffin that Querry remembered only too well, though its walls had been cut down and now reached only to the knees of the man standing in the center. Tendrils of sparkling mist snaked around him and moved to and from the angels at the corners by way of the metal vines. A dense ball of power hovered over the pilot’s head. The disk moved fast, its propellers kicking up eddies of debris as it went. In no time it hovered only ten feet below Querry. He could see the few strands of black hair brushed across Thimbleroy’s bald head. The Lord held a claw-like mechanism that looked vaguely familiar, using it to manipulate the exposed gears around him imperfectly. Querry held his breath. Thimbleroy had done the marksmen across the street a tremendous favor by removing the walls of the sarcophagus and leaving himself unguarded.

  Before long, one of them took the shot. The bullet hit the device Thimbleroy held, and while it didn’t knock it from his grasp it did drive it away from the controls. The disk tilted sharply, turned almost sideways, and nearly collided with the house on which Querry stood. The angels flapped their great, metal wings in an attempt to right the machine, and Thimbleroy got the long fingers of his claw back in among the gears. He’d only just straightened out the disk when another bullet struck his shoulder, drawing a spray of blood. This time the angels spread their wide wings until they touched tip to tip and formed a barrier around the aristocrat. As bullets pinged uselessly off their engraved feathers, Querry saw a fresh supply of troops moving down the street in formation. They’d already outnumbered the resistance, but now it would be a wholesale slaughter, and Querry could see no way to help. The sharpshooters tried their best, but none of them could penetrate the barrier. Querry wished he’d saved one of the sticks of dynamite, but since he hadn’t, he aimed his clockwork pistol at Thimbleroy’s balding crown. Hopefully he could make his way to the shelter of one of the dormers after he took the shot, because he’d be giving away his position.

  Querry felt calm and alert as he prepared to squeeze the trigger. Soon it would all be over. He braced himself and prepared to fire, but the disk suddenly spun and he lost the shot. The red-robed angel extended his long arm choppily, displaying none of Frolic’s grace, and pointed toward the cathedral tower. Magical energy pulsed through the conduits until his entire form glowed. Frantic, Querry fired on his hand, but the bullets bounced off the thick metal. He emptied his gun and before he could reload, the sentinel sent a burst of power straight for the top of the structure where Reg and the others hid. Instinctively Querry knew that a full blast of the magic would tear the top off the tower and kill everyone inside, but the sparkling beam bent at the last moment and curled around the edge of the church. Querry exhaled with relief; Dink’s device was working. Even so, some residual magic struck the cathedral tower about halfway from the base to the summit. It buckled and pitched forward, the top part almost parallel with the ground. Querry saw three bodies plummet over the railing. At the bend where the magic struck, the gray stone bubbled and turned black and shiny like glass. The transformation slowly spread in every direction.

  Querry tried to reload his gun, but a tremor shook the earth and the bullets fell from his hand. He dug in his pocket for more. In the meantime, the disk spun again and the ochre angel attacked. Again Dink’s lightning rod caught the majority of the energy. The rest hit the worship hall nestled to the right of the tower. Great, black shards of glass-like material tore through the ground like the claws of an enormous beast through soft flesh. They splintered the church’s rafters and decimated its stone walls. A confetti of colored glass flew in every direction. A short, fat clergyman ran screaming from the doomed building, and a black, stone spear broke through the cobblestone to impale him. He twitched a bit and then went still.

  The disk rotated, the green-robed angel facing the cathedral. Clockwork troopers crushed the few remaining rebels, while guards easily picked off those that attempted to flee. Blood wet the street and the sharp, black bones continued to break through. Enchantment crept over the bell tower, causing it to darken and mutate. Querry knew if he didn’t act soon everything would be lost. He gave up trying to load his pistol, moved to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

  He landed lightly inside the ring of angels, behind the mad aristocrat. Querry quickly unsheathed his sword, ready to sink it into the base of Thimbleroy’s skull. The Grande Chancellor turned toward the thief, and the horror Querry saw almost made him drop his weapon. The claw he’d assumed Thimbleroy held was in fact fused to his body, replacing his arm from the elbow down. A thick bolt held it to the bone of his upper arm. Sinew stretched in moist, red clumps down the metal, and dried blood stained the armature. Querry gagged when he saw Frolic’s stolen heart within the aristocrat’s open shirt. Wire and metal tubing disappeared into Thimbleroy’s skin, holding it against his ribs. A strong stench of decay wafted off the madman. Driving down his disgust, Querry lunged forward with his blade and shattered the enchanted glass. The red mist within dissipated in a burst of heat. Thimbleroy roared and moved his unnatural limb among the gears.

  The red dragon lifted its feet clumsily as it approached the thief. It opened its mouth, bearing rows of ivory teeth like daggers. “Finish him,” Thimbleroy ordered. “Burn him to a crisp.”

  Querry braced himself, but the flame never materialized. The crimson creature waited, flicking its tail from side to side. Querry laughed triumphantly and advanced on his adversary. “You damn fool,” he yelled over the din of the battle below them, “you can’t control them! You’re a pretender!”

  “Wait and see, scum,” Thimbleroy snarled. “I’ve studied them all of my life.” He adjusted the gears.

  “Why?” Querry couldn’t help asking.

  “To protect this kingdom,” Thimbleroy said. “To stop it being overrun by dissolute foreigners and filthy fey. To insure it keeps to the traditions that have made it great! To insure that its fate is decided by men.”

  “But you opened the gate to the faerie realm,” Querry said, slicing at Thimbleroy’s neck. The aristocrat’s mechanical arm parried the blow, and he laughed maniacally.

  “Ingenious, wasn’t that? There’s power enough in the magic here, but by siphoning it from their world I can make myself a god!”

  “You’re a sick son of a bitch,” Querry said, feigning with his sword and then punching Thimbleroy in the face. Two of his teeth and a mouthful of blood flew from the corner of his mouth. “You sold the plans to our country’s enemies for money! You’re a bloody traitor!”

  “You’re street trash, Querrilous Knotte,” he said, licking the blood from his lip. “You’re the son of a whor
e and a criminal piece of garbage. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. These things are far beyond your station. Much of what I’ve done has been to keep people like you in their proper place, and stop them from infringing on their betters. Really, the peasants are happier when the nobles make the decisions for them.”

  “I’ll kill you,” Querry shouted, enraged. He lunged for the aristocrat, but the clockwork stag lowered its head and rammed him. His armor prevented the horns from piercing his lungs, but the momentum knocked him over the side of the disk. Querry grabbed the rim at the last second and pulled himself back up. He’d lost his sword, but anger and outrage compelled him, and he prepared to attack Thimbleroy with his bare hands. He ran for the platform, but the unicorn joined the stag and the two creatures drove him back toward the edge.

  “Please stop,” Querry said, thinking of Frolic and trying to reason with them. It did no good. The unicorn struck out with his front hooves and the stag prepared to butt Querry. The thief crouched and rolled, avoiding the assault. He got back to his feet and saw the yellow-garbed angel had joined her minions. Before Querry knew what was happening, she backhanded him in the face and sent him flying from the disk. He flailed his arms as he fell through the open air, Thimbleroy’s laughter echoing all around him. He felt his body hit the ground, saw blurry, dark shapes moving around him. Then everything went black. Querry’s last conscious thought was that they’d failed. He’d failed.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  QUERRY hadn’t expected to open his eyes again, and when he did he thought he was surely in hell. Thick smoke that stung his eyes and bit his lungs obscured the sky. Jagged black buildings and grotesque, twisting obelisks surrounded him. The air reeked of blood and machine oil. Even the rain that fell against his face stunk of sulphur. Through the pounding in his head, Querry heard gunshots, explosions, and screams. He tried to push himself up from the wet ground where he lay, and every fiber of his being exploded in agony. He fell back down with a groan.

  “Easy there, mate,” said a familiar voice. A blurry form moved toward Querry and crouched down. It took a few more minutes for Querry’s eyes to focus and for his rattled brain to recognize Lizard. The boy took a flask from his pocket and poured brandy into Querry’s mouth. The thief swallowed the rich liquid, feeling the warm bubble travel down his body to his belly. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with a gloved hand as he tried to recall and make sense of the things that had happened.

  “Lizard,” Querry finally managed to croak, “what the hell is going on?”

  “Hell is about the size of it,” Lizard said, shaking his head. “Our people are all dead, or soon will be. Thimbleroy’s got an army out there, and they’re shooting on sight, wiping out everyone they see. They don’t stand a chance against those damned machines. And that horrible tower is spewing magic, changing everything, warping it.”

  “What about Reg?” Querry asked, pushing past the pain to sit up. “What happened to the shooters on the cathedral tower?”

  “I’m afraid there ain’t no tower.”

  “Frolic?” Querry asked, starting to panic. “Kristof? What happened to the device that was supposed to stop the magic?”

  “I can’t say, only that it don’t work,” the boy informed him. “Much as I hate to say it, likely they’re all dead, and old Dink too.”

  “No,” Querry said. “This can’t be happening.” From nearby, he heard shots fired and looked at his surroundings more carefully. They were in a narrow corridor. Maybe it had been an alley, or maybe it had formed when house walls collapsed. The darkness and smoke made it hard for him to tell for certain. High piles of stone surrounded them on three sides, and at the small opening three men stood defending their position with rifles. The shots Querry had heard had stopped a pair of Royal Guards. It was a good place to hide, but they wouldn’t be able to hold it forever. Querry felt around his waist. In his fight with Thimbleroy and the fall afterward, he’d lost both his gun and sword. Even The Gripper was gone. He turned to Lizard and said, “What’s the plan, then?”

  “Plan?” The boy laughed without any trace of amusement. “No plan, mate. Best we can hope for is to stay alive until this massacre is over. Maybe then we can get away. Not that we’ll have anything to go back to. They’re… they’re all gone.” Lizard looked ready to cry, but he stamped it down and put on a brave face. Querry reached up and squeezed his shoulder, and he smiled with gratitude at the comfort.

  “Listen, thanks for saving me,” Querry told him. “But I’m not ready to give up on the others. Stay here. I’m going after them. We’re getting out of here together.”

  Lizard shocked Querry by grabbing his arm and holding tightly to it. “Don’t go,” he said in a young and fearful voice. “You’re the only friend I have left.”

  It broke Querry’s heart to pull away from the frightened boy, but neither would he abandon Reg and Frolic, if there was any chance they might still live. “I’ve seen what you can do, Lizard. You can take care of yourself. Stay here where it’s safe while I go look for our friends. Then I’ll be back. I promise you.”

  “I understand,” Lizard said, trying to appear unaffected.

  “Can you spare me any sort of weapon?”

  “All I got is this.” Lizard reached inside the soiled suit coat he wore and handed Querry a small dagger. It looked more ceremonial than functional with its engraved ivory handle and etched blade, but Querry took it gladly. He gave the boy what he hoped was a reassuring nod and crept to the corridor’s entrance. Peering around the corner, he determined that their hiding spot lay three or four houses down from the cathedral and on the opposite side of the street. Directly opposite them he saw the smoldering ruins of what had been another house, and decided his best chance would be to run and take cover there.

  One of the men guarding the entrance turned to him and said, “You’re off your bleeding rocker if you go out there, mate.”

  Querry knew he spoke the truth, but he saw no other choice. “Best of luck to you,” he told the guards. “I hope we’ll see each other again.”

  “Right then,” said another of the men. “Good luck.”

  Querry crouched low and tossed the knife from hand to hand. He scanned around for movement and then sprinted across the street. He was injured, but his fear for his friends overshadowed his discomfort, and he ran hard, reached the husk of the mansion, and dove behind a collapsing wall. He allowed himself a second to clutch his bruised ribs and catch his breath. Then, crawling carefully over heaps of rubble and beneath dubious doorways, he reached the grounds behind the house. The neighboring manor had crumpled against the stone wall dividing the two properties, and Querry was able to climb it and gain access to the next door second story. As quickly as he could go without falling through a hole in the floor, he crossed through the second house. He exited through a broken window and leapt to where a fallen chimney made a bridge to the next residence. It led him directly onto the sagging roof.

  From here Querry could see the cathedral. The decorative apple and cherry trees surrounding the old building had grown and twisted, their mutated branches curling around each other to form a kind of net around the church. They stretched and spiraled as Querry watched. Behind them, blood-red windows dotted the worship hall’s slick-looking black walls. Querry looked up, and the sight of the tower tore a scream from his throat. The top half had fallen and the belfry had smashed into the street. Ebony tines rose from the top of the tower, stretching toward the sky and giving the structure a horrid resemblance to a gigantic spinal column. The spikes grew larger by the second, and the lower portion of the tower buckled under their weight. Some stray shards broke from the belly of the tower and then disappeared, leaving gaping holes and crumbling rock where they’d been. Colored lights flashed within the decimated walls.

  The idea of Reg trapped inside that awful place banished any thought of his own safety from Querry’s mind. He ran along the roof, following its downward slope until he found the place where it had caved i
n. He had no way to reach the rubble-filled rooms below, so he opted to jump the ten feet to the street. Though he landed more lightly than most would have been able, the impact sent a jolt of pain through his knees. Ignoring it, he ran for the misshapen grove of trees and the tower beyond. He reached the base without attracting attention, but he soon realized he had a much bigger problem.

  The bottom ten feet of the tower had fallen in on itself. Blocks lay around it like a pool of wax around a cheap candle. The wall where the tower met the worship hall was nothing more than a heap of stones. Querry had no way in. Swearing, close to panic, he circled around three times, hoping for any kind of an opening but finding none. He walked out beneath the leaning structure and looked up. It swayed and groaned precariously, showering him with rock and threatening to collapse and bury him at any moment. He continued on toward the street, hiding if he saw any sign of Thimbleroy’s men. The belfry hadn’t fared any better than the base, though; its impact with the ground had shattered everything. Querry hoped with everything he had that Reg had made it down. Even if he had, where would he be now? Somewhere in the belly of the bent and mutilated tower? He had to find a way inside, get to him, save him. He had to be alive!

  Hurrying back toward the church, Querry looked up and saw a hole left by one of the spines. It was only about a dozen feet above his head. Hope renewed, he reached to his belt for his grapple, only to remember that he’d lost it. Bugger it, I’ll climb, he thought, searching desperately for anything he might hold on to. He tucked Lizard’s dagger into his belt and prepared to begin. But the surface of the stone was smooth and shiny. In some places it melted and dripped, though Querry felt no heat. The way leading up to the opening was a sharp angle, almost parallel with the ground. Short of flying, Querry had no way to reach it. He balled his fists and beat the sides of his thighs with frustration. Then an idea occurred to him, and he sprinted back to the worship hall.