The Mystery of Emerald Flame (Verity Fitzroy and the Ministry Seven Book 2)
Page 20
He stopped abruptly in the hallway, and stared at her. “You can’t be serious?”
“Oh, don’t be so close-minded, Edward. We aren’t getting any younger, and the future is in the hands of children like Henry.”
He tilted his head. “You mean the one that just wrecked your project and the archives in one night?”
She patted him on the back. “There will definitely need to be some… instruction… maybe a little forcible, but I am sure we can bring them around to our point of view.”
His eyes narrowed on her, before he let out a short bark of a laugh. “You used to a be a school teacher, I recall. I can’t think anyone better to dish out the right sort of instruction.”
Glynis thought of the strap she’d used in her youth to correct the youth given into her charge. Certainly there had been a great deal of screams and tears, but in the end they’d come around to her way of thinking. A bunch of talented, but unruly street children would be a challenge, but she was more than sure she could manage it.
So she smiled at Edward. “Actually the one thing my daughter is managing to bring home is a rather undisciplined child she found in Turkey. Apparently he has quite a foul mouth and temper. Should be good practice for when we catch up with Henry.”
“I’ll do my best to find him for you, Mrs Driscoll,” he said with a lop-sided grin. “It should be quite the adventure.”
“I leave it in your hands.” Leaving the recovered scholar, she returned to her laboratory. Since her automaton project was on hold for now, she’d turn her mind to this new Henry situation.
Now if she could just remember where she’d put her strop.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Really Seven
Verity stood on the prow of the airship and stared out into the clouds. She didn’t know how she was going to tell Henry what happened. The mad Welsh woman might be dead, but so too was their darling Liam. Her heart broke to think of his enquiring mind snuffed out, and how she would miss his enthusiastic bright smile.
Julia stayed behind at the camp with her mother. Maybe they would repair their relationship—it might be the only good thing to come from all this madness. They’d said a muted goodbye, but she could still feel the hug her friend gave her as they boarded the airship. No Baffle this time, the McTighe fortune would pay for private and discrete passage back to London.
As much as she didn’t want to go home, Verity craved their house in Onslow Square. The little room Liam called home, now that would be hard to face.
Then there was Marcello. He’d long gone by the time the dust settled, and to where was impossible to guess. She knew one thing for certain, he would be reporting to Octavius what went on. The repercussions of ignoring his warning, she could only start to imagine.
Her contemplation were interrupted when Potts rolled up beside her, and producing his legs, raised himself to look over the side. “I’m glad that Baffle creation is not flying this one.”
“Is that humour?” she asked, shooting him a sideways look.
“Perhaps.” He jetted two puffs of steam before offering, “Thank you by the way for saving us from the Monster.”
“I didn’t save Liam,” Verity replied, leaning against the railing. She forgave him for reminding her of that. Potts proved himself loyal, but he was still a stuffy professor under all that metal.
“You can’t blame yourself for that. The whole city came down around us, it was far too chaotic to see anything.” It was a good attempt at comfort.
Never the less Verity’s eyes welled with tears, and only by brushing them away with the back of her hand did she stop herself from completely breaking down. She knew very well there would be more when they reached London, and she told the rest of the Seven.
While she was in the process of doing that, Emma appeared at Potts’ side, and leaning across hugged Verity. They didn’t exchange any further words, but simply watched the sun setting over the clouds in pinks and blues. It was very pretty, but the pain wasn’t washed away by pretty.
“I suppose I should tell you something,” Emma said, tucking her hands behind her back.
Verity turned slowly. The child spoke in the reluctant tone of someone who’d stolen a biscuit from the jar—however, since it was Emma then it was far more than that. “What did you do?” she asked as calmly as she could.
“That scroll you asked me to burn,” the girl said, not meeting her eyes. “I unrolled it, just for a minute.”
“You mean you looked at it?” Verity whispered, a cold knot of dread forming in her stomach.
Emma stared up at her, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Tell me,” the older girl said, taking hold of her arm.
“Yes,” came the answer, and Verity experienced a rush of horror as she realised the implications. Locked inside Emma’s young head was a secret many people would kill to have, one that the Byzantines went to great length to protect, one that its own inventor decided was too dangerous for the world to have. It was a weapon and a path to a kind of immortality—all right there in front of her.
Emma fiddled with her hair as she asked innocently, “Do you want me to write it down?”
“Oh by Jove!” Potts creaked out, his eyes flashing green once more; a reminder of the very real power of the Emerald Flame.
Now Verity’s heart was in her throat. Dropping to one knee she fixed her gaze with the younger girl’s. “No, no I don’t! And you should never mention it again. To no one… you understand, right? No one. Ever.”
The frown on Emma’s face was one of confusion. “But I thought you wanted it for yourself? We went through all of that and we’re not going to use it?”
For a child of the London streets it made no sense to keep such a treasure and never use if for anything. If they filched a mighty gleaming emerald, they would fence it immediately. This secret though was far too dangerous for everyone… and particularly Emma herself.
The Illuminati and Octavius would put the young girl through torture and every conceivable terrible thing to get it out of her—if they knew she had it.
“We can’t,” Verity said as calmly as she could, trying to impress on Emma the gravity of the knowledge, while not scaring her. “Even its creator realised it should be hidden… at the end he did at least. People would take you away, kill all of us just to have a chance at gaining it.”
Emma’s bottom lip trembled. “Like Liam?”
“Yes, like Liam.” She patted on the girl’s back. “We really are the Ministry Seven now, but Liam was very brave, and we won’t forget him.”
Even while she said that the guilt began to set in. After all it had been her suggestion to follow the Emerald Flame. She was the one that hadn’t insisted the younger children stayed behind. Deep down she wondered if she really tried hard enough. It was a question she knew that would haunt her into the dark nights.
Despite preventing the Illuminati getting hold of the formula, she knew they had lost not just Liam. The element of surprise was no longer with them. Uncle Octavius and the Illuminati knew that there were children involved in all this.
Emma stroked her hand. Like them all, she’d seen death often and close up. It wasn’t as much of a deterrent as it would have been to safe, middle-class children.
“It would seem we are not of the woods yet, Miss Fitzroy,” Potts said, his spherical body rocking to the rhythm of the airship returning them to London.
“No, no we’re not,” Verity replied, but she smiled faintly, “but at least we will be together again.”
She tried not to think of the Underground Queen’s dire predictions, nor of Octavius waiting for her return. The secrets were piling up, and so were the bodies. Whatever his plan was, she determined to see an end to it.
They lost too many people for it, and she would not let that go unpunished.
About the Author
New Zealand-born fantasy writer and podcaster Philippa (Pip) Ballantine is the author of the Books of the Order series, and has appeared in c
ollections such as Steampunk World and Clockwork Fairy Tales. She is also the co-author with her husband, Tee Morris, of Social Media for Writers. Tee co-authored Podcasting for Dummies and has contributed articles and stories for numerous anthologies.
With Tee Morris she is the co-creators of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences. Both the series and its companion podcast, Tales from the Archives, have won numerous awards including the 2011 Airship Award for Best in Steampunk Literature, the 2013 Parsec Award for Best Podcast Anthology, and RT Reviewers’ Choice for Best Steampunk of 2014.
She resides in Manassas, Virginia with Tee, their daughter and a mighty clowder of cats.
More about the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences
www.ministryofpeculiaroccurrences.com