Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #2: The Relic Hunters

by Derek Benz; J. S. Lewis

“I could come by after school to help out.”

  Monti stroked his chin. “You know what?” he finally said. “As long as your mom is okay with it, that might work out.”

  “Really?”

  “We’ll have to find a way around the liability issues. It won’t go over well in the press if you lose a hand in one of the machines.”

  Harley shrugged. “You could always build me a new one. You know, with interchangeable parts. There could be a grappling hook… a claw… maybe even a grenade launcher.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Doc Trimble,” Monti said, referring to the school physician, who had a prosthetic arm.

  “Did you hear that?” Harley asked as they passed the graveyard behind the Cathedral of St. Peter.

  Monti shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “There it is again,” Harley said. He stopped to look through the tall iron fence, which was topped with barbs.

  Monti cocked his head to the side. Then his eyes opened wide. “Moaning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t think it’s… forget it.”

  “Zombies?”

  “Impossible. Right?”

  A loud gong sounded, and Monti jumped. The church bells were announcing that it was six o’clock. The sun was long gone, and a thick cluster of clouds was blotting out the moon. The only source of light in the entire city was the meager gas lamps that lined the streets, and that wasn’t much.

  Then they heard the echo of footfalls. A man in a long coat, a scarf, and a top hat crossed their path. His brow was furrowed and his nose was sharp. Monti looked over his shoulder to make sure the stranger didn’t double back. When he turned around, he could see another figure standing not half a block away.

  “Who’s that?” Monti asked.

  “I can’t tell.”

  The figure started walking toward them. At first he was nothing more than a silhouette against the grey sky, but soon enough Harley could see that he was dressed in an overcoat and a driving cap. He was small, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. There were plenty of urbanized goblins living in New Victoria, and they could be wicked.

  “Stop right there,” Monti said. He flicked his wrist. A spring-loaded mechanism inside his sleeve released a small plasma pistol into his hand.

  “Take it easy,” the stranger said. He held his arms wide to show that he wasn’t holding a weapon. As the stranger walked beneath the light of a gas lamp, Harley narrowed his eyes as his lip curled back into a snarl.

  “What’s wrong?” Monti asked when he saw Harley’s reaction.

  “That’s Aidan Thorne,” Harley said through his clenched jaws.

  “Wait,” Monti said. “You mean the changeling who took Robert?”

  “We call him Smoke, but yeah,” Harley said. Smoke took off the cap to reveal blond hair that was twisted into spikes, and he had a pair of aviator goggles pulled over his blue eyes.

  His changeling ability allowed Smoke to teleport anywhere in the world if he’d been there before, or if the spot was in his line of sight. Smoke had been a student at Iron Bridge, but he’d turned on the Templar and helped Otto Von Strife abduct Robert Hernandez. No one had seen him since Robert’s death. Until now.

  “Did you miss me?” Smoke asked.

  “Not especially,” Harley said. “What do you want?”

  “I came to deliver a message to Agent Thunderbolt.”

  “As you can see, he’s not here.”

  “Yeah, I heard he’s hanging out with the other changelings.” Smoke turned his attention to Monti, who was still holding the plasma gun. A cloud of vapors swirled around Smoke, and he disappeared, emerging on the sidewalk with his hand wrapped around Monti’s wrist. “I’ll take that,” he said before he vanished again. A moment later he was back where he had been.

  “I don’t need a plasma gun to take you out,” Harley said.

  “That’s probably true,” Smoke said. “Of course you’d have to catch me first, and even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to hold on.”

  Something moaned inside the cemetery. It was closer than before. Then more voices joined the strange choir.

  Smoke smiled. He popped in front of Harley with a large envelope in his hand. “You’re sure that you won’t give this to Ernie?”

  “What’s wrong? Doesn’t Von Strife pay you enough to cover the postage?” Harley asked.

  “I really think the two of us could have been friends,” Smoke said.

  “I doubt it,” Harley said.

  Smoke looked down at the envelope and then at Harley. “Tell Ernie that I’m looking for him… and that I have something I think he’d be interested in.”

  “Ernie wasn’t your biggest fan to begin with, and now that Robert’s dead because of you, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to want to talk to you.”

  “You see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Smoke said.

  Harley raised an eyebrow.

  “I helped liberate Robert.”

  “Tell that to his parents.”

  “Maybe you really are as dumb as you look,” Smoke said. The moaning grew louder. Smoke turned to look at the cemetery and smiled again. “Sorry, but I have work to do. See you around, Eisenstein.” Smoke vanished.

  “What do you think that was all about?” Monti asked.

  “I don’t know,” Harley said. He was squinting, wondering if those silhouettes inside the cemetery were zombies or if his eyes were playing tricks. Then he turned back to Monti. “How would you stop someone who can teleport like that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Monti said, scratching his head. “The best you could hope to do is sedate him so he can’t use his power.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  A clap of thunder shook the ground before a massive bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. Then hail started to fall, bouncing off the ground and battering the steam-powered cars parked in the street.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Monti said. “Besides, the subway will be here any minute.”

  THE AGENTS OF JUSTICE

  Ernie walked briskly down the foggy street in a section of New Victoria called Bludgeon Town. He kept in the shadows, avoiding the gas lamps. He didn’t want to be spotted. Not yet.

  His boots clicked on the cobblestones as he crossed the street. A steam-driven car approached. Ernie sidestepped to avoid getting drenched as its tires splashed through a puddle. Then he stopped to watch the driver. It was a clockwork dressed in a coat and tie. In the backseat sat a man in a top hat with a white scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. A beautiful woman sat beside him.

  Ernie pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck and crossed over to the street corner, where a stray dog pawed at a trash can outside a butcher shop. The dog stopped to look at Ernie and growled. Ernie ignored it.

  He was running late. According to the clock tower, it was nearing midnight. Ernie hoped his parents were still asleep. He didn’t want them to worry, not that they needed to. One of his superpowers was being able to heal at an incredible rate.

  He heard a shuffling sound behind him. Ernie walked faster down Wellington Row. Though it was Sunday, the pubs were filled with unsavory patrons. Night mongrels, they were called. Thieves, charlatans, and even murderers were among their number. They were the lords of Bludgeon Town, but Ernie wasn’t here for them. He was looking for slavers—men and women who made their living by abducting people and selling them to the highest bidder.

  His heart started to race, and his hands began to sweat. Ernie closed his eyes as his breathing grew shallow. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered. The words didn’t seep past his ears. He turned down an alley.

  It was dark. The fog was thick. Ernie could hear two tomcats fighting, followed by the sound of glass breaking. The footsteps still echoed behind him. Ernie smiled, but there was no joy in the expression. It was his nerves. He was frightened, yet he had never felt more alive.

  Ernie looked up when he heard two people arguing t
hrough an open window, but he couldn’t stop. He was on a mission. Lives were at stake.

  The scuff of shoes padding along behind him continued. Ernie risked a glance over his shoulder, but all he could see was a silhouette. The man was large, with broad shoulders and a wide belly. His hands were in his pockets, and his strides were long.

  As the man passed under a gas lamp, Ernie caught a brief glimpse. His head was covered in stubble and so was his chin. There was a scar that kept his lip in a permanent snarl, and a tattoo stretched across his neck. It was a black widow, the symbol of the slavers guild.

  “I got you,” Ernie whispered. He’d seen the man before, or at least his picture.

  Tom Glover was his name. Annie, the changeling who could control machines, had accessed the chief constable’s database using her DE Tablet, a portable computing device designed by Charles Babbage. She’d pulled the records of all known slavers, and Tom was at the top of the list.

  Ernie passed a wall of wooden barrels behind a pub. Ahead was a brick wall. It was a dead end, and Ernie was almost there. He clenched his jaw when the first bell sounded, announcing that it was turning midnight. Just a few more paces, Ernie thought. He started counting down, just like he had practiced.

  Ten… nine… eight…

  Ernie could still hear Tom following him.

  Seven… six… five…

  He slowed down. He needed Tom to think he was an easy target.

  Four… three… two…

  The echo of Tom’s steps grew closer.

  One.

  Ernie stopped. He could feel his heart in his throat, and his lungs had trouble holding air. His skin itched, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. The shuffling stopped. Ernie turned to face his hunter.

  “Ho there, laddie. Are you lost?” Tom asked. He kept his hands in his pockets.

  Ernie looked to the right and then the left. He didn’t have to pretend to be nervous. It came naturally.

  “What’s wrong? You ain’t one of them dumb urchins, is you?” Tom asked.

  A deep breath, followed by another. “No, sir,” Ernie said. He removed his cap, wringing it in his hands like a wet towel. His eyes were focused on his boots as though he were speaking to royalty.

  “Well, then,” Tom said. “What brings you to old Bludgeon Town? Them boots is too fancy for a street urchin. I’m guessing you’re one of them changelings come to rid the world of the likes of me. That about right?”

  Ernie raised his head. He threw his shoulders back and his chest out. Then he smiled. Those nerves had given way to a deep rage. He was ready to enact justice that was, in his mind, long overdue. “Something like that.”

  As the twelfth bell sounded, a wooden barrel tipped over. The lid fell away before a thick black liquid spread across the alley. Tom spun around in time to see Yi emerge from the shadows. His hands were cupped and filled with flames. The glow, reflected in his amber goggles, was eerie against his face. His smile was sinister.

  “What’s this? Two of you, is it?” Tom asked. “Well, this must be my lucky day.”

  Yi brought the fire to his lips and then blew. The fire streamed from his hands toward the tar before exploding into an inferno. Tom was trapped behind a wall of flames. So was Ernie, but he wasn’t alone.

  A bat fluttered down from the dark sky before swooping around Tom’s head. He swatted at the bat with meaty hands, but it was too quick. It taunted the slaver, and then it bit the back of his neck.

  Tom slapped at his neck, but the bat was already out of reach. “Them things have rabies,” he said. His eyes filled with worry.

  “You never know,” Ernie said. “It might have been a vampire.”

  “There ain’t no such thing,” Tom said, though his face looked nervous.

  The bat shimmered as though it were out of focus before it disappeared. Then, with a pop, a girl with green skin and red eyes took its place. It was Hale, the shape-shifter.

  “What is this?” Tom asked. He rubbed his eyes as though what he had seen wasn’t possible. Yi walked through the blaze to join them. Sparks leaped from behind his goggles as fire burned in his hands. He threw flames at Tom’s feet. Tom jumped out of the way, but Yi was relentless. He laughed as Tom danced a jig.

  “I’ll not be mocked by the likes of you!” he shouted.

  Tom leaped at Yi, who stumbled back before falling to the ground. A rope weighted down by iron balls at each end flew out of one of the windows above and latched around Tom’s ankles, tying him up. Yi rolled away as Tom tore at the bonds, but he couldn’t break free.

  “I’ll kill you!” he shouted. “Every last one of you.”

  Denton jumped down from the window. His tail swished as he walked over to the slaver. Then he snarled, revealing his curved incisors, and held out a pair of handcuffs for Tom to see.

  “You get close enough and I’ll break your neck, boy,” Tom said.

  “I doubt it,” Denton said. He grabbed Tom’s wrist, and the slaver tried to pull away. He swung at Denton with his free hand. Denton dodged before wrenching Tom’s arm behind his back. Then he latched on the handcuffs.

  “Where’s Tejan?” Denton asked between heavy breaths.

  Tejan Chandra, a small boy with dark skin and raven hair, walked out from behind the wall of barrels. His eyes kept darting from Tom to the door of the pub.

  “It’s okay,” Ernie said as he placed his hand on Tejan’s shoulder. “We’ll protect you. All you need to do is make this guy forget his past… forget that he was ever a slaver… and forget our faces.” Then Ernie reached into his pocket. He pulled out a mask and covered his face. So did Hale and Yi. Ernie tossed a mask to Denton. He hesitated before he put it on.

  “Are you ready?” Ernie asked.

  Tejan nodded. He walked over to Tom, who was trembling in fear.

  “Please,” he said. “I promise I won’t bother you no more. Old Tom will change his ways. I’ve seen the light. Please!”

  Tejan placed his fingertips on Tom’s temples and took a deep breath. Then he turned back to Ernie. Ernie nodded. Tejan closed his eyes.

  When it was over and Tom’s memories of slaving had been wiped, Denton hoisted Tom over his shoulder and carried the slaver’s unconscious body to the street, where he tied Tom to a gas lamp with a thick piece of rope. Denton left a note pinned to Tom’s shirt.

  We will not live in fear.

  It was signed The Agents of Justice.

  INFAMOUS

  It was the first morning back to class after winter break, and Natalia was already dreading the subway ride to school. Natalia and the Zephyr, the enchanted subway that connected New Victoria to her hometown, had gotten off on the wrong foot last semester when Natalia commented on how old the Zephyr was. Unbeknownst to Natalia and thanks to MERLIN Tech, a special technology created by the Templar, the Zephyr had a personality. And could hold a grudge.

  The moment Natalia sat down in the subway car, her bench lurched. Natalia flew out of her seat before toppling to the floor.

  “I’ve had just about enough,” she said as she scrambled to pick her things off the floor. Her face was bright red. The students seated nearby were laughing. “How many times do I have to apologize before this bucket of bolts will leave me alone?”

  “We tried to warn you,” Todd Toad said. “The Zephyr doesn’t like it when people make fun of her.”

  “Subway trains aren’t living creatures,” Natalia said. She reached for a tube of lip gloss that had slid beneath Todd’s bench.

  “When you mix magic and technology, strange things can happen,” Todd’s brother, Ross, said. “That’s the beauty of MERLIN Tech.”

  The Toad brothers looked nothing alike. Ross was the pudgier of the two. He had a thick shock of auburn hair that looked like an overgrown hedge. Todd was unusually thin, with square glasses and rabbit teeth. They had one thing in common, though. Natalia thought they were both annoying.

  Natalia rolled her eyes and stood up. Then she grabbed one of the leather
straps that hung from the ceiling. “Did anyone see Ernie this morning? I think he missed the train.”

  “I didn’t,” Harley said.

  “Me neither,” Max said as he stroked Sprig’s back while she slept next to him in her natural form.

  “We saw him,” Todd said. “He’s sitting a few cars back with Kenji Sato.”

  “The kid with the Bounder drake?” Max asked.

  “I guess,” Todd said with a shrug. “He’s the only Kenji I know.”

  “That’s weird,” Max said. “Ernie’s scared to death of that thing.”

  “Not anymore,” Ross said. “It was perched on his head.”

  “Thanks for the update,” Natalia said. “Now if you don’t mind, we have official Grey Griffins business.”

  “We don’t mind,” Ross said.

  “Yeah,” Todd said. “Go right ahead.”

  Natalia stared at them until they got the hint.

  “Oh, sorry,” Todd said. They put on headphones that were both plugged into the same portable music player.

  “I doubt they even turned it on,” Natalia said. She lowered her voice as she leaned toward Max and Harley. “Anyway, I think I know why we didn’t see much of Agent Thunderbolt over the break.”

  “Why?” Max asked.

  Natalia pulled out a folded newspaper from her purse and tossed it to Harley. Sprig opened an eye warily, but then she went back to sleep. “Take a look at the story on the bottom of the front page.”

  “ ‘Evil Spirits Banned from Ice-Cream Parlor’?”

  “Try the other one.”

  “ ‘Vigilante Crime Fighters Strike Again,’ ” Max read aloud.

  “So?” Harley asked before he yawned.

  “Keep reading,” Natalia said.

  Max sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to read the newspaper, but he didn’t feel like arguing.

  A masked vigilante group calling itself the Agents of Justice continues its fight against alleged members of a human-trafficking cartel. This marks the third time in less than two weeks that suspected kidnappers have been found tied to gas lamps in an area that locals refer to as Bludgeon Town.

  There are some who believe these vigilantes are students from the changeling program at Iron Bridge Academy lashing out in response to the disappearance of two classmates, Becca Paulson and Robert Hernandez, both presumed dead.