Who knew if such an impressive supply of cursing helped, but Verity did managed to tumble over Callinicus’ shoulder and slid down his back as bullets struck his chest. It was a controlled fall, and Julia’s long scream that followed made her wonder for a moment if she’d been hit.
Verity landed at the rear of the statute with a bump, blood trickling down her shoulder and side. The first was from wrenching free of the automaton, but the scrape was from the rough texture of the inventor’s chair. Neither were going to kill her, but they certainly did sting.
As she got to her feet, wondering where exactly she should run, the Sound in her head started up again. It was all around them, the city began to wake, and a smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. The clockwork country indeed stirred, but something even closer reacted to her presence.
A hatch was imbedded in the back she just slid down. This wasn’t a statute, it was an automaton.
Maybe running wasn’t her only option. Placing her hand against the hatch, she eased it open. The Sound rushed to greet her. The tick tock was powerful in here, thundering like a heartbeat. Now she saw it.
Callinicus didn’t need a grave, because he wasn’t really dead. He was in this machine, like Potts and the other automatons powered by the Emerald Flame. The fire from the aether did many things, like bring the dead close.
The interior of the machine was full of not only the inventor, but also the whispers of those she’d lost.
Her mother and father were so close, that their breaths were on her neck. She felt if she turned around quickly enough, she might catch sight of them.
Fight back, they said. Show them what a Fitzroy can do.
This was not the flame that consumed them, but it would do the trick.
Callinicus called to her. His face sad but determined came out of the darkness and suddenly her body didn’t matter; there was only the machine. It wrapped itself around her, took her away from the unpleasantness outside. It also welcomed her into the past.
The inventor was her and she him. His worries and fears about the Emerald Flame bloomed in her. She understood why he made it; to protect his family. He made a thing of limitless power and at first he loved it. Its beauty invaded him, and for many years consumed him.
He told himself that it would stop wars and save lives. The Emperor loved it and its inventor. The court showered him with praise and wealth over the years. His daughters grew up rich and well educated, something which seemed impossible when he first fled Syria. He was a success.
However, gradually, by inches he began to see another side. The Emerald Flame was no longer about protection. Its other powers began to be examined and harnessed. He saw abominations made, and sensed even more terrible things were to come.
So in shame he sent its secret formula away in the clockwork country, and eventually locked and sealed his own laboratory there. If humanity couldn’t be trusted with it, then he would make that choice for them.
Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to destroy it completely. It was his greatest achievement, and perhaps one day he might needed it—or at least he told himself that. Certainly there were still small pieces running on its power out in the world, but the formula itself was only written down on one solitary scroll. No one could make more of it than there was already.
Driscoll found those ancient remains, and used them for her own greedy purposes. She experimented on how to give humanity immortality through transference to a mechanication. If she got a hold on the recipe to make more, then nowhere and no one would be safe.
Verity knew she must stop her from getting it, because it was awfully close. With her mind in the consciousness of Callinicus, she obtained the knowledge of which of the automaton’s amphora contained the formula.
She was just generating a plan, when through the machine’s eyes she witnessed Potts burst into the laboratory. He’d discarded Julia’s goggles, and now his eyes blazed bright green, like the brazier’s contents. What the little brass man though he would do, she wondered at first, but then she noted the white-hot welding torch in his hand. Where that came from was a complete mystery, but it would certainly affect any automaton he used it on.
He dodged the first automaton and made straight for the one holding Julia and Una. The machine with its arm missing rounded on him, bringing its gun to bear, just as Emma, Liam and Christopher appeared a few beats behind Potts. All of the Seven children still had their shocker rocks, but in their other hands were long pieces of wood. They must have stopped along the way to break them from the scroll stands. They made a fierce little group of children, but the element of surprise would wear off quickly.
It was time to act or lose all her friends. Shockers and fisticuffs were not going to work for long. Closing her mind around the automatons, Verity commanded it to rise. The ancient joints creaked, and the gears moaned in protest, but it levered itself out of the chair it occupied for millennia. Still Callinicus’ work held up.
First Verity swung at the automaton with the gun and caught unawares it got sent flying into a heap. Unfortunately, one of the amphora crashed and broke on the ground. She’d forgotten about that. Naturally it was the one with the formula.
The other automaton dropped Una and Julia in order to bring its guns to bear on the children. It didn’t notice Potts with his torch, come from behind and stab the welding torch into its leg. The problem with making automatons from humans, unless you got the programming right, then they felt pain. It was never a matter of just nerve endings, humans could imagine pain without them.
When Potts shoved the torch forward, the automaton screamed in agony. Still Driscoll was armed, and she fired her rifle in the direction of the Seven. Their rocks flew wide as the dived for whatever cover they could find in the laboratory.
Yet the long scroll in the shattered remains of the amphora caught the Welsh woman’s eye. With the children distracted, she darted forward towards it.
Verity lowered her fist to slap Driscoll away, but it was Emma, far nimbler than an ancient automaton who slid beneath the blow and snatched up the scroll.
She needed to protect the younger girl. Callinicus’ automaton took a clanging step towards Driscoll, but there was no way her massive flailing was going to keep her away forever. No one needed to be a child, to be faster than this huge automaton.
Julia scampered behind Callinicus, but it wouldn’t protect her for long. The intact automaton, kicked Potts away, sending him spinning to the far end of the room, while the other rose from where it was kicked. Driscoll made these bodies very sturdy. Even with Callinicus on their side, the woman was going to quickly get hold of one of the children, and then with that they’d all have to surrender.
So, there was only one option. The inventor’s mind linked with Verity’s and shared the same thought.
“Destroy it,” she called to Julia, the automaton’s massive voice shaking the room with his pronouncement. Driscoll’s face went paper-white, but she lurched upright and began firing directly at the massive Callinicus. Sooner or later one of the bullets would hit Verity.
Breaking from cover, Emma sprinted around the other side, and tossed the scroll through the air to Christopher. It might have looked adorable to some, reminding them of games from their youth, but this wasn’t a game for the Seven. The street children of London played these games with the adults. Usually it involved passing a loaf of bread, some lady’s pearls, or someone’s grabbed bag. For them it was a part of survival.
Christopher snatched the scroll from the air with a deft flourish and a triumphant grin. Driscoll’s automaton’s ran at him, but a moment later it was tossed again, this time to Liam. He scooted around the outside of the machine and threw it to Potts. It didn’t stay long in his mechanical hand before flying to Julia on the other side of the laboratory.
“Mum!” she called out, but Una almost dropped it. Adults were never as good at this game as they thought. In that moment, Verity saw the mistake.
Una McTighe gave up her child, and
many years for what now lay in her hand. One hesitation was all it took, Driscoll charged her like they were now playing rugby. The scroll flew up into the air, but it was Potts who came through.
Using his legs as propulsion devices, he pushed his spherical body into motion, getting airborne for an instant. His sturdy mechanical hands grasped the scroll in mid-flight, and then tossed it without consideration into the brazier.
For a moment all was still, nothing but the whir of the machines surrounded them.
Driscoll rolled away from Una and let out a scream of pure outrage. The automatons under her control flailed around, lost to her control for that moment.
She was not the only one losing it though.
Run. Callinicus droned in Verity’s mind. The city has made up its mind. This is not for you. Run.
She felt it in her bones. With so much commotion, the clockwork city woke completely, and did not find humanity to its liking. The movement of cogs and gears sped up. It was going to close itself off again and in far more a dramatic a fashion.
Callinicus was content though. He’d made a mistake which was now corrected. His secret was safe for once and all time.
“Run, get out!” Verity screamed through his mouth. Coming back to herself she burst out of the hatch, back to her real body, which was in very real danger. The ceiling shook, filling the laboratory with blinding dust.
Stones creaked and groaned as the city pushed against the chamber. Its clockwork mind didn’t care one jot for the humans within. They were as insects to it.
Holding her sleeve over her throat, Verity caught glimpses of the other children. Catching hold of Emma’s sleeve, she guided her towards the door. Once there she stood and screamed, trying to see the others.
The Emerald Flame still burned, and she caught a momentary flash of Driscoll there beside it. The woman didn’t move, even now trying to salvage some crystals with the help of her automatons. It was far too late for that.
Only when the roof buckled and began to plummet into the laboratory, did Verity allowed herself to be yanked through the door by Christopher. However, the city wasn’t quite done.
She kept running, sensing people around her, but still blinded by the dust, and deafened by the roar of rock. Only when they reached the entrance to the camp, did she start to make out those around her.
Coughing and spluttering, clearing her throat and eyes, she looked around wildly.
Julia and her mother were there, faces covered in pale dust, clutching onto each other. Emma was retching and sobbing, only held up by Potts spheroid shape. Christopher leaned his hands on his knees and spat the particulate from his mouth as best he could. And Liam…
Verity spun around, peering into the clouds of dust, staring into the tunnel they’d emerged from. “Where is Liam? Did anyone see Liam?” she gasped out.
They all stared at each other in horror. The crash of rock behind them emphasised the point. Liam was not with them.
“No… no… no…” Verity stammered out, and then spinning made for the entrance. It didn’t matter how many stones fell, she was going back in there.
It was only the combined strength of Christopher, Una and the two guardsmen from the camp, that stopped her from running back in there. She struggled, and she fought to get back to Liam, but they wouldn’t let her go. They just wouldn’t.
Her screams and sobs were barely audible over the rockfall, but they rattled her bones. The city didn’t care. Glynis Driscoll didn’t care. The Emerald Flame claimed another victim, and this one was too precious for Verity to bear.
“He’s gone luv,” Una McTighe said, cradling her body as she finally went limp. “He’s gone.”
Those words were spears through every part of her, and when she collapsed into tears, she didn’t think she would ever be free of them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Welsh Woman's Disappointment
Mrs Jones stared down at her ruined automaton and let out a sigh. Henry was full of so much promise and yet he’d managed to disappoint her.
As she went to fetch the dustpan and brush, she reminded herself that she’d been disappointed before, and it all turned out well in the end.
Trailing back to the broken equipment with cleaning supplies she contemplated that she’d probably chosen the worst way to introduce the boy to the Illuminati. The splinter in the group would have given him quite the wrong impression. They’d been responsible for the bungle in Cornwall, the airship and the fight with Octavius resulting in the destruction of the academy. She shook her head.
The Illuminati were constantly wracked by internal disagreements, right from their inception in Bavaria in the previous century, but it was not something they advertised.
As she levered herself down to her knees, a knock came at the laboratory door. Turning her head with some annoyance, it faded when she spotted Edward leaning cautiously into the room. The medical team had adjusted the mechanics of his brain altimeter, and he was completely clear eyed when she smiled at her.
“He’s gone then, Glynis?” he asked, taking a step in and surveying the damage.
While it was nice to have Edward back on the team, he apparently regained his habit of stating the obvious. She gave a short nod. "And took apart poor Anna here on the way out I'm afraid."
Edward took a spin around the damage and nodded sagely. "Yes well, Anna is rather alarming to those that do know any better."
It was such an unscientific comment, that Glynis couldn't help shooting him a look.
"She is what she is, a work in progress, and word just arrived that Esther's mission in Turkey has failed."
She concentrated for a moment on sweeping up the pieces of broken porcelain, gears and springs. The tiny portion of green flame was extinguished by Henry’s destruction, and she didn’t have anymore. The annoyance she felt towards the orphan was minor compared to that for her own daughter.
Clockwork country they called the area, and yet the Emerald Flame was all she cared about.
Edward nudged a gear out from under a table, before picking it up. “What do you think he was doing in the archives though? If he wanted to know about your work, there wasn’t anything to find there.”
After dumping the sad remains in the rubbish bin, Glynis considered; it was a good point. At any time Henry could have smashed Anna to bits, if that was his aim. Instead he spent a good amount of time rummaging through the records of the Illuminati. The damage he’d done in here consumed her attention, but perhaps it was a crime of opportunity rather than the reason he’d ingratiated himself with her.
“What was he looking for I wonder.” Gesturing Edward to follow, she bustled down the hallway to where the poor archivist faced as much mess as she’d just cleaned up. The young woman wasn’t a great deal older than Henry, and she stood in the small room, her glasses balanced on the tip of her nose, staring around.
“Millicent,” Glynis said in a low comforting voice, “don’t panic.”
“Always a good start,” Eddie murmured, though in his life he was in a near constant state of it himself.
Millie nodded, though her breathing told another story. “I… I am trying not to Mrs Driscoll, but look what he did.”
Scanning the room, Glynis noted the rows of card catalogues, which were pulled out, and scattered everywhere. At first it looked utter chaos, but when she looked more carefully there was an odd order to it. One long drawer on each row had been jerked out and its contents thrown about.
A strand of Millie’s red-gold hair had come loose, and it was irritating beyond belief. Taking a moment to tuck it behind the young archivist’s ear, Glynis asked in a low voice, “Where was the young man standing when you interrupted him?”
Millie frowned. “I was sleepy when I came in…”
“Which one? Close your eyes and think about it a moment.” She tried to keep any trace of annoyance out of her tone. Everyone in this building seemed to live in fear of her, and that wouldn’t help matters.
Edward�
��s eyes darted between the two of them, but he didn’t add anything. His treatment must be working well; usually the scholar couldn’t keep control of his mouth, especially in moments of stress.
The archivist took a deep breath, but shut her eyes for a moment. “It was dark but he had a lantern, and he was standing…. There… ”
Her finger came up and pointed towards the cabinet card catalogue where they kept their master list of addresses and contacts. It was the most valuable thing in this whole room, and usually secured by a first class lock and key.
Glynis went to it, and examined them. At first glance there was nothing to suggest anything was amiss, but pulling out her pocket spyglass, she discerned a few tiny scrape marks.
Straightening she took a few deep breaths. “He picked the lock.”
“Impossible!” Millie said, adjusting her glasses. “He’s just a street urchin!”
Glynis arched her eyebrow in the archivist’s direction. “A boy that knocked you out with some kind of stunning device, tied you to a chair, and on the way out destroyed my automaton for good measure.”
“But what about this mess?” Edward asked, gesturing to the storm of cards lying all over the place.
“A deception to hide his real intentions in here,” Glynis said, hitching up her skirts to step over them. “It’s a mess for Millicent to deal with, but I would bet everything is still here. He got what he wanted when he picked the lock.”
Leaving the distraught and angry archivist behind her, she gestured Edward to follow her. “What do you remember about this simple street urchin of yours?”
He rubbed his forehead as they walked back towards the library. The procedure and his muddled state before it would make things difficult, but finding a homeless child in the chaos of London would be difficult without some kind of place to start.
“He had a few friends with him. A couple of boys and two girls as well I think.”
“That makes things easier,” Glynis said with a smile. “I wonder if they are as clever as our Henry? Might be some wonderful new recruits for the organisation.”
The Mystery of Emerald Flame (Verity Fitzroy and the Ministry Seven Book 2) Page 19