Mechanical Rose

by Nathalie Gray

  “That gamble is not acceptable. Leeford is too important to me. I am truly sorry, Mr. Clarence.” Where had this aplomb, this detachment come from? She felt as though she had been meant to say this all her life, that nothing preceding this evening had made sense—even if intellect had ruled her world. Life had been a dress rehearsal until now. This moment of brilliant clarity. No doubt, no regret.

  “Eleanor, reconsider your action, my dear. It is a perfect plan. Lure Spark in with the machine and spring the trap. Society agents are taking positions around the neighborhood. You will not escape.”

  “And what if something does go wrong?” Leeford demanded. “What if your perfect plan does not work and Spark gains the prototype? Do you have any idea the harm he could cause?”

  Mr. Clarence nodded. “We are confident the plan is the best course of action.” He turned to her, reached out. “Put the pistol away, my dear child.”

  He had never called her that before. He wanted to make her feel small and insignificant, and she hated him for it. “You disappoint me, Mr. Clarence. Leeford, we must go. Now.”

  She aimed the pistol at her colleague while Leeford rushed to the duo-cycler and pushed it out into the rain once more. They had minutes. If that. Already each roll of thunder could be Spark’s monstrous airship rumbling closer.

  Chapter Eight

  Leeford’s heart skipped a beat when she pulled the pistol from the back of her corset. Good fortune, would it come to this? He did not want her to murder a colleague for his sake, even if said colleague gave him chills down his spine. He had never met anyone who reminded him so much of his family. The same wily pleasantness, the cunning eyes, the mental gears always turning. He had disliked Mr. Clarence right away. A first for him as he preferred waiting a while before forming an opinion on someone.

  “Where is your dragon?” Eleanor asked through her teeth. Her aim was steady as she leveled the pistol at her colleague. Leeford hoped against the odds she would not fire.

  The older man pointed at a pair of double doors across the interior courtyard. “You two will not make it out of here.”

  “You mean us three.”

  He looked more hurt than surprised. “You cannot do this.”

  “I can and I am. With you along, they will not shoot us down from the sky.”

  “Are you so sure?”

  “Yes. No telling where the prototype would fall. The Society cannot risk two such important assets. Perhaps one, but never two.”

  She gestured with her pistol for the man to lead them to his dragon, which he did with his eyes flashing in menace. Doors open wide, he took a seat in the back while Eleanor activated the steam pump. With a shudder the dragon’s engines rumbled to life. She drove it out of the hangar and pulled by the duo-cycler.

  “Help him.”

  The man did, to Leeford’s surprise. They had the prototype in the dragon’s trunk in no time. Mr. Clarence was a fit older gentleman.

  Leeford could not believe these cretins had been arrogant enough to tell Spark where to find the prototype, even after having watched him for years. They knew the sort of man he was. He had money, he had connections that probably rivaled those of “the society”. How could they think for one minute he would not see through their ruse? With the kind of man he was? Overconfident fools.

  While Eleanor kept her pistol to her former colleague’s head, Leeford sat in the pilot seat, marveled at the dragon’s smooth controls before readying for takeoff. The articulated wings spread without sound.

  A deep rumbling overhead made all three look up in apprehension.

  “Please, Eleanor, do not make us turn on you.”

  “You already have,” she murmured, still gazing at the sky. Rain plastered her hair to her forehead. At least the worst of the storm seemed to have passed. “There!”

  Leeford swallowed hard. Divine Graces.

  A shadow amongst shadows, a rounded shape in the sky grew until they could make out tiny amber dots along the underbelly. Spark’s giant airship broke from a thick cloud, steel nacelle gleaming, steam engines glowing.

  “Quickly!”

  “No!” the older man growled. “Let him come to us! We have sharpshooters along the rooftops!”

  “Too late!” she yelled back. “Leeford! Now!”

  Pistol shots were heard. Tiny explosions erupted along the brick wall. Either Eleanor’s former colleagues were firing at them or Spark’s goons were. Neither meant friend to him so Leeford pushed the engine to the maximum and snarled a curse when the deceivingly standard-looking dragon turned out to be a bullet in disguise. It tore off the interior courtyard as if it had been fired from a cannon. Bullets thudded against its metallic sides. Wings filled with wind as soon as they cleared the nearest walls.

  “Are they mad?” Eleanor growled, shooting back over the side of her door.

  “These shots are not from our positions!”

  “Who cares?!” Leeford roared as he maneuvered the dragon into a sharp left bank. Inside the trunk, the prototype thunked against the side.

  Rooftops glistening with rain sank around them as he pulled on the altitude lever. Small silhouettes darted back and forth along roof ridges and chimneys. Glowing orange spots indicating they too fired pistols. The sound of bullets zipping past made him cringe. Leaning over the controls, he yanked the lever higher while turning the yoke to bring their dragon left then right, down into a crazy dive before leveling off at the last second. An iron clock tower flew past a couple of feet to their right. That had been too close.

  “They launched dragons!” Eleanor warned.

  True. When he turned to check, Leeford spotted dark forms coming out of the giant airship. As though the monster had given birth in flight. Like bats, they converged and turned as one. Turned toward them.

  “You must evade them!” Mr. Clarence cried. “This was not in the plan!”

  “Your plan was bad from the start,” Eleanor shot back as she sat to reload with a clip from her pack.

  Leeford angled the dragon down and left. “We will evade them over there!”

  Below them, the botanical gardens stretched like a quilt of black satin patches. Darkness enveloped the trees and glass domes. If they managed to make it there, he could then hide the machine for a while until Eleanor’s friends had taken care of Spark. Or whatever else. They were running out of options. Hiding seemed a better idea than trying to fight off Spark’s little private army. Plus, where else could they go?

  Lily.

  Eleanor and he had returned just by nightfall and Lily and Max were still not home, which meant they had stayed in town. Perhaps they had been caught by the storm and decided not to risk calling a coach. Not uncommon for them to do so. She always stayed at the same place, a little inn by the edge of downtown. Not far from the gardens in fact. He used it sometimes when he came to town for female companionship. Paying for sex had never bothered him. An uncomplicated friendly transaction from an establishment he knew and trusted. Although he doubted he would ever go that route again. Fulfilling basic physical needs would never be enough now that he had tasted so much more. Had tasted a woman for whom his affection deepened with every passing second in her presence. The urge to squeeze her tight tingled his hands.

  First, he had to get rid of Spark’s men.

  His plan was simple and, well, quite desperate—they would lose their pursuers through the gardens, drive their dragon on land and hide the prototype at the inn. For a while anyway. It was better than nothing.

  “Hang on!” he yelled.

  His reckless piloting drew gasps from his passengers. Before his pursuers could match his course, he set off for the darkened gardens, swerved around giant trees and landed in relative smoothness on one of the side paths he knew well. Spending all that time walking the botanical gardens of Aconia finally paid off.

  “What are you doing?” Eleanor demanded, seeming torn between pointing her pistol at Mr. Clarence and reaching for the altitude lever. “Leeford!”

 
“I have a plan,” he said, turning back. “And it does not involve him.”

  Eleanor turned to her former colleague and gestured at the door. “Forgive me, Mr. Clarence. You left me no choice. Please get off.”

  To Leeford’s shock and relief, the older man stepped off the dragon and retreated by a few steps. He shook his head. “I wish you would have trusted our judgment as you once did, Eleanor. You have just squandered your only ally. We cannot help you if we do not know where you are.”

  “The common good does not always justify the means. Goodbye, Mr. Clarence.”

  Leeford drove away. He did not spare a look at the older man for he knew Eleanor kept a close eye on him, pistol ready in case of trouble. Overhead, the sound of several dragons could be heard roaring by. Spark’s men had not seen him diving into the trees. Maybe they stood a chance. At least they had rid themselves of one set of pursuers. With friends like this “society”, who needed enemies?

  “Forgive me,” Eleanor began, cleared her throat. “I had no idea.”

  “I know. We all have learned something tonight.”

  “The price of this lesson was high, I fear. What now?”

  “Lily and Max must have been caught in town by the storm. It is not the first time. They rent rooms at a small inn not far from here. We will hide the prototype there until we think of a better plan.”

  She nodded, hooked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  By the corner of his eye, he could see her spine curving under the weight of what must have been awful regret and bitter disappointment. Betrayal always hurt. He should know.

  “We will be safe for now.” He patted her thigh.

  With the wings retracted once more, he drove with the lanterns off until he had reached the edge of the park. The wrought iron doors were wide open as they always were, bolted into the concrete proper. They gleamed with residual rain when Leeford drove past. No dragon flew overheard except for a large, commercial one ferrying a few night passengers to and from the land-based suburbs a mile or so south.

  Buildings in this part of town had none of the glossy newness of downtown proper but boasted a quiet grace that had always appealed to him. Built on piles like the rest of downtown, they stood close together. Shadowy sentinels. The bridge on which they drove made deep metallic sounds that reminded him of Spark’s monstrous airship. He checked overhead often. Nothing. Relief coursed through him. They had made it.

  “I think we are safe now,” Eleanor said in a muted voice so different from the self-confident, composed woman.

  “I think so too.”

  A sign creaking in the wind announced their destination. He drove the dragon under the coach door, found an empty spot at the back of the interior courtyard and, after making sure to back the vehicle as close as possible to the brick wall, stepped off and stretched his legs. His poor body rang with grief. And he was so utterly cold without a shirt and with his trousers soaked through. A hot bath would do him good. Tea and sustenance too.

  “I think I better go to the desk myself,” Eleanor said with a tired smile. “They would call the constables in if they saw you in that state. Drawing that kind of attention is the last thing we want tonight.”

  While he waited in the courtyard—where he checked twice that the trunk was locked—Eleanor left and returned not long after with a brass key he knew well and a small card. “I convinced them to prepare us something to eat. Miss Escoraille is in room twelve. Maximilien Envers is in room thirteen. Ours is ten.”

  He followed her to the side of the building. Heat from inside wafted to him when they opened the thick wooden door. “They gave you their room numbers?”

  “No. I peeked at the register. There are only five guests, including us four, and three key clips from the staff members’ board were missing. My guess is about eight to ten people are in the building. Most of them asleep. Acceptable numbers.”

  Well, she was a spy.

  Flowery wallpaper yellowed with age but still graceful and a recently cleaned runner cushioned their steps as they rushed along the second floor and up to the third. A single gas lamp on a moon-shaped table along the wall lit the way. They located doors twelve and thirteen. Leeford knocked at Lily’s while Eleanor did the same at Max’s. Leeford knocked harder as the door remained shut. When he saw Eleanor take a step backward, he knew she had had more success and joined her.

  Max’s bearded face appeared in the embrasure. He cocked a dark eyebrow. “Can I help you, Mr. Gunn?”

  Even if the moment called for cool logic, Leeford’s first reaction was to demand to know where Lily was…until the young woman opened the door wider and stood by Max’s side.

  He was so glad to see her unharmed that he almost forgot she shared a room with Max and that she must have been stupefied with sleep and might not react well to being embraced by a very wet, disheveled nighttime stranger wearing only trousers and boots.

  “Leeford?”

  “Lily, forgive me the intrusion…” he started, threw a look he hoped menacing at Max, who leaned against the doorjamb and waited. Muscles bulged in the parted blue flannel shirt he wore. “We need to talk. All four of us. Now.”

  “You never call me Lily,” she replied, yawned then after a quick nod at Max stepped back from the doorway. She smelled of lavender when he passed her. Max and Eleanor followed and Lily closed the door.

  Their room—Max and Lily sharing a room!—just like any other in the little inn, had been lovingly decorated by a woman’s hand, from flower patterns to crushed velvet drapes the color of cranberries.

  “Well,” she began, chuckled when she took in his state of undress. “You make quite the pair.”

  “Quite,” muttered Max. His dark hair stuck out in the back. He finished buttoning his trousers and shirt then stuck his sizable fists in his pockets.

  “So do you,” Leeford snapped while trying his very best not to sound like an overbearing older brother. “I guess the second room is for show.”

  Lily grinned wide. As much as he thought her a delicate little thing, that smile had been too mocking and naughty to let him delude himself any longer. But then again, Lily was twenty-five. Some women had already given birth at that age. But not his Lily, his Lady Frivolous.

  Leeford sighed while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not even know where to begin.”

  “I know.” Eleanor leaned back against the door, blew through pursed lips. “Lily, I have lied to you and everyone else in this room. I hope you can forgive me when you learn why.”

  Such subtlety.

  Lily opened her mouth to speak, seemed to change her mind then clasped her hands in front of her, waiting in silence. Max arched an eyebrow.

  With his heart hammering out of empathy for her difficult position, he listened while Eleanor spoke. She explained everything in sequential, logical manner. Leeford could almost draw a mental time line of events as she spoke and could no doubt sketch a detailed chart to it too. Her words were concise, blunt and economical. Except for a few exclamations from Lily, only Eleanor spoke. By the time she had finished though, his cousin had lapsed into one of her episodes, humming under her breath as she twirled an index finger around a lock of hair. Poor woman. Leeford felt so bad for her. She must have thought she had found a friend in her “cousin”. Eleanor’s lies, though well intentioned, still cut him deep. And Lily as well. Only Max betrayed no emotion. He snorted once and shook his head. But that was it. Silence rang like a cracked bell when Eleanor finished.

  Leeford wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her near. “I do not expect you to understand my motivation but I support Eleanor fully. We are in this together.”

  Max’s scowl lessened when he cast a quick glance at Lily, still in her happier world. “I understand more than you think, Mr. Gunn.”

  “I guess you would.”

  How could he have missed it? The subtle glances, the rare smiles, always directed at Lily. Max knew Leeford’s motivation, for the men shared something deeper than a
home and an employer-employee relationship. He loved Lily. Just as Leeford loved Eleanor. The realization came like a thunderbolt.

  He loved Eleanor.

  * * * * *

  “And we need a plan,” Eleanor said with the last shred of composure she had.

  She wanted to curl into bed, pull the covers over her head and not come out again. But such luxury was not for the likes of her. She would have to outmaneuver and fight her way out of this one. Just like any other mission. Only this time, she stood to lose a lot. The affection in Leeford’s eyes mirrored what went on inside of herself. Why had the Divine Graces conspired against her this way, thrown in her path a man for whom she would come to care very much only to threaten him after? So cruel.

  Lily smiled as she turned on the spot a few times. “The train.”

  Leeford gently took her by the hand to guide her to the bed, but she pulled it out. “The train,” she repeated. “The bad men will wait for you in the sky because dragons are faster. The train is slow but safe.”

  “The snail and the squirrel,” Eleanor said through a sigh of relief. “They will expect us to leave Aconia in all haste. Lily is right. Trains are slow but safe because there are so many daily departures. If we use the train, we can hide the prototype in the luggage wagons. In a crate.”

  Lily nodded, beaming. “We could ship it by train, split up and each take a different route. How exciting!”

  Leeford shook his head. “Much too dangerous. The train is a great plan, but Eleanor and I will go alone. No need to implicate you.”

  “Seems you already have,” Max said, staring at Eleanor.

  Bristling, Leeford took a step forward. “I meant implicate you further. And mind your tone.”

  “Look, we are all tired,” Eleanor said, hoping to pacify both men. “Thinking is rapidly growing difficult for me. If I do not get some sleep, I fear I will collapse.” She turned the doorknob, cracked the door open and after checking both sides, stepped out.

  Behind Leeford’s back as he joined her in the corridor, Max threw a glare at Eleanor. She met his gaze without flinching. There was nothing this man could say or do that would hurt her, more so now after Leeford had lent his support. And his affection.