Then there was the man sitting to his left. The man that made some of them uncomfortable. The man with a dinosaur claw where his right hand used to be.
Claw Carter.
The same Claw Carter who had been Sweet’s second-in-command.
“Where are we?” said Ben, wiping away the cold sheen of sweat as his heart rate began to return to normal.
“Safe house,” said Lucy.
“Mr. Smutts’s place,” Jonas Kingdom explained.
Ben nodded. That made sense. Smutts had been Ben’s employer, way back when Ben was an apprentice cooper. Ben had saved Mr. Smutts from a fire which had engulfed his workshop, and now the man was repaying the favour in spades. If the Legion discovered Watchers in his house, then the whole Smutts family would get a one-way ticket to the detention camp in St. James’s Park.
“How many did we get over the Wall?” asked Ben apprehensively.
Jonas reeled off the list. “We counted at least ninety into the steamships, but the Legion was on us too quick.” He shook his head. “The army could have taken twice that number.”
“Casualties?” said Ben, dreading the answer. One was too many.
“Mostly flesh wounds,” said Jonas, his voice flat. “But we lost two Watchers from the Hoxton cell.”
Ben sighed. Every day their numbers were being whittled away. “And how did I make it out?”
“Stumpy,” said Moon.
“Thank you, Professor Carter,” said Ben, ignoring Moon’s jibe. “I thought I was done for back there.”
“You know it’s the least I could do,” said Claw Carter.
“He was remarkable,” chipped in Valentine in his educated tones. Moon made a noise halfway between a laugh and a spit. Valentine purred on regardless. “I wouldn’t say that it was all strictly Marquis of Queensbury rules” – which Ben took to mean that Carter had fought hard and fought dirty – “but, by jingo,” Valentine continued, “the professor here was like poetry in motion. He really cut that Feathered Man down to size.”
Moon chose that moment to blow his nose loudly and vigorously.
Ben understood where the animosity came from. Until he switched sides, Carter had persecuted the Watchers without remorse; accepting him as an ally was a challenge that pushed the Watcher creed of forgiveness to the limit. Carter had hurt them all in ways too numerous to mention. Ben himself would always be able to recall the day when Carter had used his claw to slit Jonas Kingdom’s throat. These were not memories that they could simply wish away.
But Carter was a changed man, Ben was convinced of it. Ever since Ben had used the Hand of Heaven to bring the professor back from the brink of madness at the Feast of Ravens, Carter had thrown himself unreservedly behind the Watchers’ cause. And besides, Ben was relying on Carter’s knowledge of Legion tactics and the man’s ability to navigate the labyrinth of the Under to help them snatch Queen Victoria back from the enemy. In spite of everything that had gone before, Ben sensed that he could trust Carter.
Or was it more that he needed to trust him?
Ben ached. All of his injuries were catching up with him. Run and hide – that was all the Watchers ever seemed to do. Food was scarce, sleep was scarcer. Ben knew that they couldn’t keep going like this for ever.
“Right,” said Carter, cutting through the battle-weariness that was settling upon them. “Can you go over the plans for tonight, Ben? Please repeat it slowly so that our older members can keep up.”
Moon muttered under his breath. Ben didn’t catch it all but it sounded more like something a drunken sailor might say, rather than a warrior monk.
“Tonight is the last escape mission,” said Ben, “and then we’re counting down to 1st May, Revolution Day.”
“I’m ready,” said Moon, his gnarled hand patting his swordstick.
“For this final run we’re going to use the Liberator to get as many people as we can to safety outside the Wall…” The Watchers looked excited at the prospect. The Liberator was their airship and it had proved decisive in the past. “Strictly women, children and elderly folk first—”
“I can help with your bags, Mr. Moon,” cut in Carter.
“Thanks,” said Moon. “I could do with a hand. But then again, so could you.”
Ben laughed, he couldn’t help it. The others joined in, including Carter himself, and the atmosphere lifted slightly.
“Our scouts have informed me that there’s a weak point in the Wall just north of Camden Town,” Ben said with a nod to Nathaniel. “Apparently the patrols are less frequent there and the railway goods yard should provide plenty of cover for the escapees to gather. The Liberator is hidden in one of the disused sheds, fully repaired and good to go. Mr. Moon, are you ready with the diversions?”
Moon grinned. “Me an’ Lucy’ve got a special surprise we’ve been saving for the occasion.”
“The Legion curfew sounds at nine and we leave at eleven,” said Ben. “Between now and then, use your contacts, use your networks, spread the word. This is the last run. Anyone left has already chosen sides.”
Images flashed through Ben’s mind. Mother Shepherd, the glorious old woman who had led the Watchers before him – her body broken after she fell to her death from the dome of St Paul’s. Josiah – the Weeping Man – the angel who had fought for the Watcher cause, until he was snatched away from them by the claws of the Feathered Men. All the other men, women and children who had suffered loss and heartbreak as the Legion had torn London apart. Ben’s right hand began to throb with the injustice of it all. It was as if his flesh was metal in a furnace, filling with the power of the flames, being forged into something greater than it was before.
“Yes, we’ve lost loved ones,” said Ben. “Yes, this city is hurting. But Revolution Day is coming. In four days’ time, when every free Londoner rises up against the Legion, we will rescue the Queen and take London back!” Ben paused as the weight of his words set in. The odds were against them, they all knew that. Yes, they had a plan. What they really needed was a miracle.
“I understand how the Legion works,” said Carter,“I know how Mr. Sweet thinks…”
“Funny, that,” murmured Moon.
“Sweet is arrogant…I was arrogant,” Carter conceded, “and pride is a weakness.” Carter’s intelligent eyes gleamed. “Mr. Sweet has built himself a kingdom with a crown to wear and a throne to sit on. He hates the Watchers – you especially, Ben. But the Legion regard the Watchers as an irritation, just as the grey wolf might regard a tiny tapeworm, echinococcus granulosus, as an irritation…right up until the moment when it eats its way through the wolf’s internal organs, hooks its barbs into its heart and kills it.”
Molly Marbank pulled a face and snuggled in tighter to Jonas Kingdom. Ben gave her a wink.
“So you’re saying I’m a worm, basically,” Ben said to Carter. “Nice.”
Carter, for his part, looked perplexed. It was a perfectly good illustration as far as he was concerned. He’d always admired parasitic nematodes.
“As you all know, I’d hoped that we’d already have freed the Queen by now,” said Ben, continuing where he left off. “But we still haven’t managed to find where Sweet is holding her.”
“There are hundreds of dark places in the Under,” said Carter. “But I am confident that young Mr. Valentine and I will sniff the old girl out. Between us, we know the Under better than almost anyone.”
“But six weeks in, we’re no closer to finding her,” said Moon.
“On the contrary,” said Carter. “We know more than a dozen dungeons where she isn’t being held.”
Ben intervened as tempers began to fray. “And we still have four more days, don’t forget.” He caught their attention and held it. “We also have this,” he said, raising his right hand – the Hand of Heaven.
An awed hush fell upon them. Ben was the one that the Watcher prophecy had promised. The one who would bring them victory…if he survived.
Since Ben had joined the Watchers and accepted h
is incredible destiny, he had found that his right hand was capable of extraordinary things. But he knew that its immense power came from a higher source outside of his control. Ben was the channel, not the river. He began to recite the great prophecy. Other voices joined with his until the attic was filled with their song.
“One will come to lead the fight, to defeat the darkness,
bring the triumph of the light.
One will come with fire as his crown”
– Ben subconsciously ran his hand through his fiery red hair –
“to bring the Legion tumbling down.
One will come with fire in his eyes,
to pierce through the veil of wicked lies.
One will come with fire in his heart,
to overcome all odds and play his part.
One will come with fire in his hand,
to purge the evil from this land!”
“On Revolution Day,” said Ben, “with or without the army, every Londoner who won’t bow to the Legion will rise up as one. The plan is simple – every Legionnaire, every Feathered Man, needs to be busy fighting the uprising so that I can get to Mr. Sweet and use the Hand to stop him once and for all.” Ben flexed the fingers of his right hand.
“The Crown of Corruption is the source of Sweet’s power and only the Hand can destroy it. Break the crown, and we’ll break Sweet’s hold,” said Moon. He chuckled, cracking his own knuckles in anticipation.
“To clarify then,” said Valentine. “The mass uprising is a distraction, a ballyhoo to keep the Legionnaires tied up on all fronts.”
“So that I,” said Carter, “can somehow get Ben into the presence of the most intensely guarded man in all of London.”
“A power-mad, paranoid, insanely vindictive and spiteful dictator,” added Lucy. “Who is also in league with the forces of Hell.”
“And together,” said Jonas, “we buy you both enough time to steal and obliterate Sweet’s most treasured possession.”
Moon grinned. “Sounds like the sort of thing I do for fun.”
Suddenly a gunshot sounded in the room below. Ben froze, mid-smile. The deafening bang was followed by heavy footfalls and the bruising sounds of violence.
“Nobody move,” Ben mouthed. If the Legion found them now…
Voices rose up through the floorboards. The bullying threats of Legionnaires, protestations from Mr. Smutts.
“I tell you, there’s no one here!”
The silence in the attic was suffocating.
Gradually, grudgingly, the voices retreated.
Ben let out a long breath of relief, shifting his weight slightly as he did so.
In the confines of the attic, the creak from the floorboards sounded as loud as a cannon.
“What was that noise?” Hans Schulman demanded, giving Mr. Smutts a shove on the shoulder. The German Legionnaire was a stocky lad, and Smutts staggered backwards. Behind Schulman, the rest of his Legion brigade laughed. Spurred on, Schulman buffeted the man again, punctuating each question with another blow. “Are you trying to hide something from us, old man? Do you think we are idiots?”
They had all heard the groan from the rafters overhead; Schulman knew that decisive action was required.
“How do I get into the attic?” he shouted in Smutts’s face.
The man said nothing, but the flicker of his eyes betrayed the ceiling hatch, hidden in the deep shadows of the corridor.
“Quick!” Schulman ordered. “Bedlam, let me stand on your shoulders—”
“I’m the captain,” Mickelwhite reminded him. “I give the orders.”
“Forgive me, mein Kapitän,” said Schulman. “But I am so sick of the Watchers and their pathetic resistance. I am anxious to snuff them out.”
“Go on then,” said Mickelwhite, with a patronizing air. “Be my guest.”
Schulman didn’t need to be told twice. He scrabbled up onto Bedlam’s square shoulders and put one hand to the attic hatch, the other holding a loaded crossbow pistol at the ready. Mickelwhite gave him the nod and Schulman flung it open, shoving his head into the musty loft space, bringing up his weapon in the same instant. Using one meaty hand to hold on for balance, Schulman scanned around him in the darkness. He could see them all; these Watchers were legendary. Jago Moon, “Scarface”, “the Mute”, and Ben Kingdom himself, all waiting to taste death from his pistol.
Schulman grinned.
“What’ve you found?” Bedlam grunted, swaying slightly as Schulman began to grow heavy.
The German Legionnaire paused, enjoying the moment.
“Nothing,” he said, letting the attic hatch slam closed and jumping down beside Bedlam. “Just rats.”
“I’ve put poison down,” Smutts put in. “I can’t seem to shift ’em.”
Mickelwhite turned on Smutts again. “We’ll be keeping our eyes on you,” he threatened. “You know what we do to Watcher sympathizers.”
Hans Schulman certainly knew. And he couldn’t imagine how terrible the punishment would be for someone like him: a Watcher spy in the ranks of the Legion.
Ruby Johnson had no choice. She was a thief and so she did what thieves do. She stole and gave what she had stolen to the Legion, after she had creamed the best of the pickings off the top for herself. In return they gave her security, of a sort, and the pretence of a family; companionship without love.
Although she was dressed in a hooded coat with fur trim, she looked and felt more like a drowned cat than a sophisticated young lady. The storm that had arrived last night had brought nothing but misery. The fat, swollen clouds that filled the sky reminded Ruby of bruises, purple-black and sickly yellow. But she was the one taking the beating. Her feet squelched inside her ankle boots as rivers of rain tumbled through the streets. Hunger chewed at her insides. Worry squirmed in her mind. Ruby was wretched and weary. This was not how she had planned her life to be.
Things had been easier when she’d worked for Claw Carter. He had been her protector for a while, but now he was gone. Some said that he was dead, but Ruby preferred the other rumour; that Carter had defected to the Watchers and that he and Ben Kingdom were plotting Sweet’s downfall. Ruby liked that.
She smiled as she thought of Ben. There was a time, not so long ago, when she thought they might have run away together and left everything behind. The Legion, the Watchers, the squalid streets, and the grinding hardship that was all kids like her and Ben could look forward to. But that plan had fallen through too.
And it had been her fault, Ruby remembered with a stab of regret.
The memory was etched as hard as diamond on her mind. The moment when everything could have changed, when Ben had the opportunity to destroy the last of the Coins of Blood – and Ruby had ruined it, all because she couldn’t resist the pull of the cursed silver. Within the hour that blasted coin had become the last component of Mr. Sweet’s weapon of mass domination, the Crown of Corruption.
Ruby had been weak, and now all of London was paying the price.
So perhaps it was fitting that her new benefactor was a monster.
She was out stealing for him now. She had thought that Legion rule would make this part of her life much easier, but the streets had become more dangerous than ever. Thieves and thugs were running the city, and all the decent, honest, law-abiding people had either been rounded up and hauled off to the detention camp or were hiding behind locked doors, barricaded in their own homes. Ruby didn’t have to worry about the police catching her, but she did have to be on constant guard to make sure that she wasn’t mugged herself.
Most of the shops that she passed had been boarded up. There had been widespread looting when the Legion took control, and the shops that remained were only allowed to serve Legion members. If you weren’t wearing a Legion armband – a black, gauntleted fist on a white background – then it was a case of “Sorry, not today”.
“Miss Johnson,” a snooty voice called out. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
Too late, Ruby spotted Mickelwhite
and Bedlam coming the other way. She made to turn on her heel, but was too slow. Damn it.
Ruby halted and Captain Mickelwhite swaggered over to her, unhurried by the rain. Ruby had never liked him. He seemed to have a permanent sneer on his lips. She liked his companion even less – John Bedlam was a thug.
“I can’t stay, boys,” Ruby purred, putting on the charm. “Places to go, things to steal.”
She began to walk away, only to feel Bedlam’s heavy hand on her shoulder.
“Stay and chat, Ruby. Or haven’t you got time for your old mates?” There was no mistaking the hint of menace in his tone.
Ruby smiled and flashed her emerald eyes. It had always been her way of turning situations to her advantage. “I’d love to have a chinwag, but I really am in a hurry.” To get away from you.
Bedlam’s hand did not move. “Well, how about you give us something to remember you by,” he said, his fingers moving from her shoulder to the bag she carried. “What have you got in there, Ruby?”
“Let’s have a look, shall we, John?” said Mickelwhite, yanking Ruby’s satchel to him and rummaging inside. He quickly found a wallet that Ruby had lifted earlier, as well as some cheese and cured meat that she had wrapped in a piece of muslin; the meal she’d been saving for later. “What’s that, Ruby? ‘Help yourselves, boys.’ Don’t mind if we do.”
Mickelwhite pocketed the wallet and split the food with Bedlam, then he turned the satchel inside out to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before he flung it to the ground.
“Remember whose side you’re on,” he told her in parting.
Ruby retrieved her bag, clenching her teeth together hard. A single tear escaped and was lost in the rivers of raindrops rolling down her face. She felt angry and humiliated, but worse than that, she felt utterly alone.
Mickelwhite’s words had struck a nerve; Ruby didn’t feel she belonged on anyone’s side. Not the Legion or the Watchers. She just knew that she wanted to get away from London and start her life over again.
And so she had been building up a secret stash – her “escape fund”, as she called it. Enough to set her up in a new life. In the meantime though, she had to keep her head down. Keep her nose clean, serve her new master.
The City of Fear Page 3