Raven gasped, and almost choked on the spoonful she’d just put in her mouth. Thirty-five? She swallowed hard. “So why does she keep doing this? If she’s aging at such an incredible rate, how can she determine it’s worth the price?”
After a shrug, Marietta began collecting the men’s empty bowls. “Power is a consuming thing. Once you have a taste of it, you keep trying to get another. It’s a vacuum. What once gave you a great thrill diminishes with each passing day. You must have more in order to maintain the same level. I also think she must be chasing the present dream of the alchemist. We used to try to turn lead into gold. Now our goal is to create life eternal without God, heaven, hell, or even death.”
Rupert narrowed his eyes at the woman as she clattered the bowls into the kitchen sink. “Death is more certain than anything on earth. It cannot be cheated. As for the rest, it is mere speculation.”
She turned from the sink and smiled at him, holding up a finger. “If you spend much time in the study of alchemy, you become certain of many things the common man finds mere speculation. After all, who discovered the elements but the alchemist? You can neither see nor sense an atom in any way, but you know it exists because the alchemist says so.”
Rupert rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “Science holds more irrefutable evidence than religion.”
She shrugged and stepped toward the table. “Who said anything about religion? I’m talking about science. Alchemists know the existence of the soul—we’ve experimented on the moment of death. There is a portion of the human which appears to live on…to exist after the body has taken its last breath.”
Raven shivered at the thought.
“Ghosts?” Rupert retorted with a smirk.
Exasperated, Marietta gestured toward the ceiling. “Could be. Who am I to say? My interpretation of the evidence might be different from yours, but we’ll all find out someday, right? The alchemists who chase after eternal life in the same manner as the ones who chased after gold will draw the same conclusion. Impossible.”
Monroe stood and stretched, making a big production of yawning. “Well, thank you for the pleasant meal and for your generous hospitality. However, I believe we should all get some rest. The morning will be upon us faster than we imagine.”
Colton stood and nodded in agreement. After he yawned, it became apparent that Monroe’s affliction infected other members of the party.
Without a word, Marietta headed for the spiral staircase. “One at a time on this old thing, if you please. I don’t know if it will hold the weight of two to three full grown men.”
Like gentlemen, the three guardsmen motioned for Raven to start up the staircase first. To her relief the black painted steel steps felt solid to her foot and the banister didn’t sway. She and Marietta waited at the top of the stairs, in a long hall of doors. Another spiral staircase headed up at the opposite end of the hallway. If someone had been on the third floor, they’d have to run down the expanse of the narrow way to make it to the next set of stairs down. It made logical sense that from the fourth floor, the same sort of building pattern would occur. Going up or down from floor to floor would be an arduous task.
Four large bedrooms occupied the space on the second floor. Two bathrooms with indoor plumbing sat across the hall from each other in the center of the hallway. Marietta began assigning bedrooms. “I’m offering Raven to stay with me, as she’s the only female. The four of you may determine two each per room if you’d like. My fourth bedroom is a workspace and there’s no mattress in it.”
Raven kept herself from sighing at the thought of attempting to sleep in the same room with this woman. The alchemist prattled so much she might keep Raven up all night with her constant small talk. Grant and Colton started for the room across the hall. Rupert and Monroe headed for the one next door. Both the older reaper and Grant questioned her with their eyes if she’d be all right. Raven gave a slight nod, took a deep breath, and headed into the powdered and perfumed bed chamber of the alchemist.
Take every opportunity to prepare. Take in one's whole surroundings.
Never be caught off guard.
THE MOMENT SUNLIGHT entered the room he shared with Colton, Jack woke. But it wasn’t just the light that woke him. The factory across the street had begun its daily production, polluting the room with the sound of hammering, cranking, and other mechanicals. He continued to lie on the straw-stuffed floor mattress, watching the golden hued light come in through the window and the puffs of black smoke drilling into the sky from the smoke stacks.
Stiffness kept him from moving with agility as he pushed himself off the bed. Colton still lay asleep under the rough canvas blanket they’d used. After standing, Jack straightened his waistcoat that had twisted in the night, one of the many downsides of sleeping fully clothed. He peered through the window to the street below. Not much movement on the dead-end factory road.
The morning grind of the factories continued their steady noise, becoming more tolerable as he grew accustomed to it. He drew his belt tight and checked his pistol before returning it to his holster. Stretching helped him loosen the tightness in his muscles, but a walk would be beneficial as well. Because of the solidly built floors in the converted factory, Jack had no fear of waking Colton as he made for the door. He turned the handle slowly and stepped into the hallway. Shadows cast the narrow space darker than the room had been. The windows faced north and south and didn’t have the direct sunlight pouring in. He started for the downward spiral staircase and continued his quiet exit to the street.
Outside the noise had grown exponentially, and the smells of smoke and salty air combined to almost choke him. Underlying them, a faint but pleasant odor of baking bread made his stomach growl. He started toward the river first. The sharp drop-off from the street to the water made him feel dizzy when he leaned against the railing.
Across the half-mile wide river, the city of Ipswich woke. Faint shouts and the peculiar drone of a fishmonger auctioneer carried across. Steam-powered tugs pulled boats into the harbor, occasionally tooting their horns.
The smell of the bakery called him. Jack stretched again and walked through the narrow alley to the other side of the factory with two billowing smokestacks. It seemed to be the only factory in close vicinity that started work so early. The mortar between the bricks of the building varied between black and grey depending on its proximity to a chimney. Hugging the side of the building, he skirted along the ledge between it and the river.
The next street over bustled with foot traffic and carriages. Instead of it being a dead end like Marietta’s street, it led to a bridge over the river. At first, the vendors and the flurry of activity distracted Jack. With a shake of his head, he focused at the store fronts below each factory to see what each manufactured and sold.
The smoke stacks of the building he’d been watching belonged to a canning factory. Kippers and fish- paste cans filled the front window in a triangle formation. Across the street, Jack spied the little bakery open to the public and strode over to order for the group’s breakfast.
With the push of the shop door, the bell overhead jingled. Immediately, the smells of fresh baked goods assailed Jack. He stepped up to the line and stood behind two other customers. The glass cases were set in an “L” shape and displayed a bevy of pastel iced confections. A jovial baker took orders in a booming voice with a smudge of flour on his cheek. His cheer made Jack smile. Rupert would have hated it—never a morning person, that one.
When he’d finally stepped up to the counter, Jack had made his choices. “Could I procure two Ipswich sweet loaves, a dozen of your freshest hardtack, and a half dozen of your iced sugar biscuits, please?”
The door to the back kitchen swung open, and a girl stepped out with her apron in flames. A high pitched squeal emanated from the girl though her mouth remained closed. Jack didn’t hesitate, and before the baker could turn around, he’d darted around the counter. He ripped his oilskin coat from his shoulders and wrappe
d it around her, patting out the fire. She continued to bear a terrified look of horror frozen on her face.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he pulled his jacket away and looked at her torso for injury, but found none.
The girl held her hands in front of her. Skin melted from the thumb of her right hand, exposing the brass bones and joint underneath. Another automaton. Jack blinked hard. These unusual creations seemed prevalent in Ipswich but he’d never seen one in New Haven.
“Thank you so much, sir.” The jovial baker patted him on the shoulder. “She often gets a little too close to the fires of the kiln. I’d let her run the front, but her twitches cause some customers discomfort.”
“Twitches? She’s a prototype?”
“Of course. Is there any other kind of Catlett automaton?”
“Catlett?”
The baker narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Yes, the company that manufactures ’em?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders back into his coat. “I’m sorry, but I’m from New Haven. I’ve never seen a Catlett Automaton before my arrival in Ipswich.”
After a knowing nod, he slapped Jack on the back once more and chuckled. “Of course! I’m going to throw in another loaf for your help, young man. You likely saved me a bundle. She’s an older model, but I see no reason to upgrade, yet.”
“Thanks,” Jack said and returned to the other side of the counter. “Much appreciated.”
The bell rang over the door announcing the entrance of another customer. A woman and two children entered. With a hand on each shoulder, the baker directed the automaton back to the kitchen once more. The look of horror remained frozen over the mechanical woman’s face like a mask. After a moment, the baker returned with the three loves in a parcel. He reached into his glass case, removing the biscuits and hardtack. “I’m giving you a full dozen of these, as well. I am obliged to your quick thinking.”
Jack shook his head. “Thank you. Also, do you mind telling me where the Catlett Automaton factory is?”
The baker straightened and set another sack upon the counter. “Of course. It’s across the river, in main Ipswich. If you go across this bridge, it’s not more than a kilometer down the street.” He smiled wider and said, “That’ll be two coppers, if you please.”
Jack nodded and handed him one New Haven gold piece.
With a hesitant hand, the baker took the piece, his eyes wide. “Wow, you are certainly from New Haven.”
“Yes, sir, and keep the change.” Jack turned from the door and nearly ran into one of the two rug rats who were pawing at the glass cases.
The petite young woman tipped her head in a half curtsey. Her delicate features and accent betrayed her French background. “Pardon my children, monsieur.”
“No problem, madam.” Jack skirted around the threesome and started for the door. He couldn’t help but wonder if the woman was human. How many of the people he’d run into in Ipswich might have been automatons rather than humans? The thought of it made him shiver.
Raven had hardly slept. Marietta snored. The constant noise coming from her open, drooling mouth kept Raven from ever getting anywhere near restful, deep sleep. Still she remained in the bed until the room gained the white hue of early morning. The witch rolled over, and the snoring finally ceased.
With a sigh, Raven pulled herself inch by inch from the mattress. She gathered her things with as much stealth as possible. There was no purpose in rousing the witch any earlier than necessary. After a quick glance about the room, she turned the handle slowly.
The light in the hallway shone a little brighter than it had been in her west- facing room. She didn’t feel good about exploring the city, and since the first floor had no windows, Raven opted to head for the roof. The unnecessarily long zigzag trek made her ready for some exercise. On the fourth floor, she found no spiral staircase and no window on the end–instead she found a door. Curiosity had never been a fault with her. She had no interest in trying any of the closed doors in the halls on the way up, but this one she opened.
It led to a small staircase. At the top, a heavy metal trap door with a bar across it blocked her path. She moved the bar aside and heaved against the rusted door. The hinges protested with a squeal, but at this height, Raven did not fear waking any of the downstairs' inhabitants.
The trapdoor opened to a corrugated copper roof. Raven nodded and pushed herself up on the gently sloping metal. The ice cold copper chilled her hands, but she ignored the cold and sat on the slope. Black smoke filled the otherwise clear sky in two columns from the factory across the street. The muted light reflected off the burnished surface on which she sat. To her right, the river rippled in golden waves. A cold wind blew the hair from her neck, and she smiled. The icy chill refreshed and revitalized her.
Once she felt accustomed to the slope of the roof, she pushed herself slowly to a standing position. The view from the building would have been a complete circle save the factory across the street. She started toward the peak. Her cobbler had scored the wooden sole on her boots with a pattern that gave her reasonable grip on the slick surface. She reached the peak and set her feet on the narrow, rounded edge. The surface reminded her of the balance board her father had taught her to use back home. After a few deep breaths, she began to practice her martial arts.
She continued her exercise until the sweat beaded on her forehead. The sun reached high enough in the sky, she knew the crew in the building could no longer be asleep. She sat on the edge of the roof and slid down the copper, using her feet to keep herself from sliding too quickly. At the trap door, she let her feet dangle for a moment before she lowered herself to the top step below.
After closing and latching the trapdoor, she started down the stairs and along the zigzag of the hallways. On the second floor, nothing stirred. She continued to the first floor, where the bustle of conversation and cutlery welcomed her.
“Ah, there she is,” Monroe announced with a smile when her heel clicked against the first step of the spiral staircase.
The group of men was at the table in all four chairs while Marietta moved about the kitchen. She lifted a plate in Raven’s direction and smiled. “Here you are, dear. If you’ve never had Ipswich Sweet Loaf, you’re in for a treat.”
Grant and Colton both bolted to their feet, each offering their chair to her. Colton sat nearer to her entry, so she took his chair with a nod of thanks. Grant remained standing. He leaned against the back of his chair and grinned at her. “We were wondering where you might have been.”
The group stared at her. She glared back at them and then down at the bread on the plate in front of her. “I found a quiet place and did some training.”
Monroe stood and nodded with approval. “As you should.”
Because Raven was last at the table, she rushed through her meal. The sweet loaf tasted warm and light, comforting like a hug. But instead of savoring each bite, she shoveled it all down. The bell rang at the door, and Marietta rushed toward it, followed closely behind by all three guardsmen. Only Monroe stayed with her in the kitchen. His eyes sparkled as he smiled. “On the roof?”
Raven gave one nod but raised an eyebrow. How did Monroe reminded her so much of her father? In all honesty, the man even resembled him, except her father stood taller, and Monroe was thinner. The beard obscured the man’s features, but his blue eyes held the same joy. He even seemed proud when he looked at her.
After her last bite, Raven stood and headed to the counter with her plate. The wooden bowls from the night before sat in the sink, dirty and unattended, as did the plates from the breakfast. She stared at them, fighting the urge to begin cleaning. It took all of her strength to set the plate on the counter with the others and walk away. The thought of the plates remaining dirty while they started their trip irked her all the way to the door and niggled the back of her mind like a worm.
Marietta fluttered between the door and the closet, handing the members of the guard extra coats and blankets for the road. The carriage drive
r stood inside the doorway and wrung his hat nervously as the group stood around him. “I’m sorry I’m late madam. I hope to be getting on the road soon. I’ll take you to the bottom of Cirrus Mountain. Since the trip will take us the better part of the day, I’ll be needing to stay at the inn?”
The witch shot Grant a questioning glance. He cleared his throat. “Not a problem, we will all stay at the inn tonight, at the duke’s expense.”
Relief washed over the coachman, and his shoulders relaxed. He smiled wide and took the last blanket from Marietta’s hands. “Right then. Let’s be off!”
Monroe, Colton, and Rupert started after the coachman, their arms loaded with blankets and fur coats. Grant stayed back just a bit, balancing the stack he held between his chin and his arm as he checked his pocket and took inventory of his coins. A look of satisfaction crossed his face and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When his eyes opened again, he met eyes with Raven and smiled. “After you?”
Raven stepped up to him and took the top two blankets from his stack.
“I was fine. You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. You do know that women don’t always want to be a burden to the men around them, don’t you?”
Grant pushed the two blankets he held under one arm and said, “Most of the women I’ve met would call it chivalrous when a man offers to do everything for them.”
“Well, I’d call it ridiculous.” Raven smiled at the wide eyes he made at her and turned on her heel for the door.
The bumpy ride in the back of the carriage actually lulled Jack to sleep. When the coach pulled to a stop, he noticed he wasn’t the only one. Colton and Rupert both sat up and rubbed their eyes. Marietta turned toward them in front seat and announced, “We’re here.”
Monroe hopped out of the carriage and into the ankle-deep snow first, gathering up the blankets quickly. With Raven’s assistance, they folded them and piled them back into stacks. Jack set a hand on the elder reaper’s shoulder. “Let’s roll up one each to take with us up the mountain and maybe an extra fur coat each as well.”
Chronicles of Steele: Raven 3: Episode 3 Page 6