Beauties of the Beast (The Yellow Hoods, #4): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale

by Adam Dreece

  Elly unconsciously touched her bandaged side. “I’m doing okay. I can move around a bit now, but it still hurts. Yesterday, I made it through without the pain-stopping elixir the monks make. It’s made with the poppies from the nearby fields, and while it smells terrible, it tastes worse. But some good came of it—I’ve discovered chemistry! One of the monks gave me a book he wrote about how they make it. It’s fascinating.”

  “Really? Huh,” he said with a laugh. “So, you’ve discovered something of interest to you?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Apparently, a few of the monks used to be inventors, though they won’t call themselves that. They’ve been giving me every book on the subject, its history, that they can find. I can’t wait until I can make my own little lab and try some of my ideas.” She chuckled and smiled.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Elly tried to sit up, not sure exactly how to put it. “To be honest, I always wished I could be like Tee. The way she would look at things sometimes, the wheels in her head turning. I never thought I was like that, despite what Tee would say. But now, especially with the secrets she shared with me… I feel different. I feel free, and I’m loving it.”

  “What did Tee tell you?” asked William, his face tensing.

  She studied his steely expression. She could sense his concern and figured that Tee hadn’t shared what she’d told her. It warmed her heart to know that Tee really was her sister against everything, and nothing would ever be able to come between them again. “She said my real last name is DeBoeuf and I’m related to a leader of the Tub, the one called the Butcher. She also said I’m as much of an Abominator as she is.”

  “When I was slipping in and out of consciousness, I thought a lot about it. I feel like I’ve awakened a new person.”

  William stroked his beard pensively.

  She’d never seen him with a look she couldn’t read, and it made her reflect on how little she really knew him. “Is my last name really DeBoeuf?” she asked, bracing herself.

  After some hesitation, he replied, “It is. How do you feel about that?”

  “Excited, confused. I’m not really sure. I trust my parents, and I’m sure they have a very good reason for it.”

  “They do. We all do,” said William with a sigh. “But, look at this pile of books. Are these all about chemistry? Have you read them all?”

  “Yes, but I keep them here for when I need to go back for reference. Some of the monks have started teasing me, calling me the River. Apparently there’s a Staaten dialect with an expression about a river washing away… all the wood? Or something? I don’t remember. Does that make any sense?”

  William skimmed through the titles of the books. “Jennifer calls someone like that a ravaging reader. I always imagine someone ripping all the pages out and eating them when she says that,” he replied with a chuckle. “This is an impressive list, Elly. You understand all of this?”

  “Not all of it, but it’s making more and more sense. Sometimes one of the monks is able to explain something to me that I’m stuck on, but for the most part, I'm figuring it out. Like I said, I want to try things soon.”

  “Just don’t blow yourself up, your mother would be really upset,” said William with a fake stern look.

  “No worries,” she replied with a wink. She watched as his expression melted away and he gazed at the main building of the abbey. “Are you worried about Tee?”

  “We had a good talk,” he said, turning to her. “But of course I am, I’m her father. We always worry about our little girls, even when they grow up to be fearless warriors.”

  She narrowed her eyes and studied him. “She’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to her. I don’t think Mounira will either.”

  William rubbed his face. “She’s carrying a heavy burden. She—”

  “It’s getting lighter each day,” she said, interrupting.

  Nodding, he said, “Thank you, Elly. It means a lot that she has a friend like you.”

  “She’s my girl, my sister. Even if she finds a nice Benjamin someday, I’ll still be there,” said Elly.

  William laughed. “She’ll never outlive that first crush. He was a nice boy.”

  Elly smiled.

  “I better catch Christina before she wanders off somewhere. Listen, it was great to see you, Elly.”

  “Wait. We aren’t coming with you?” asked Elly confused. “I thought once I heard your voice, that—”

  He scratched his eye. “You and Tee… peas in a pod. You need to stay with Christina a while longer. I’ll see you in a few months, if not before. Take care, Elly.”

  “You, too,” replied Elly. She watched suspiciously as he went to the main building, her head shaking unconsciously.

  William closed the door to the Abbott’s office after Christina entered. It was decorated with the expected trappings of a religious life, from its books, to the small paintings that hung on the walls, to the bust in the corner.

  Christina glared at the room, her loathing of organized religion poorly hidden.

  “I just ran into Mounira. Where did that mechanical arm come from?” asked William. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  She sat in one of two old chairs and folded her arms. “Christophe made it for her.”

  “Very funny,” replied William.

  Christina’s expression hardened. “She said he made it. Do you know her to lie?”

  “No one’s seen him do anything but stare at walls and mumble in years,” replied William.

  “And Mounira claims he came to life around her. I spent some time with him when we were there, but he just stayed locked in his head. She couldn’t explain it.”

  William frowned, and sat down. “You’re serious?”

  “Do I joke?” snapped Christina, pushing her hair back over her ears.

  “And you believe her?”

  Christina glared at him. “No, I think a one-armed southerner with no history of inventing created a state of the art piece of technology without a single person noticing.”

  William shook his head. “Well, I see your sarcasm is alive and well,” he retorted. He’d always had an awkward relationship with Christina, and her relationship with Jennifer was worse. They were almost visual opposites, never mind their personalities and beliefs. William had never gotten the whole story, but knew enough to stay out of it.

  “You said you needed to talk to me, and you aren’t taking them with you. Why?” asked Christina, leaning forward. “I’ve done my part, and more.”

  He stared at the floor, his face drooping as he thought.

  “Don’t start talking about how nice the office is, or any of those distracting tactics you sometimes try. I don’t have the patience to suffer through them today. Just tell me, why are you here?”

  William braced himself. “I need you to take all of them with you back to Kar’m.”

  “No,” replied Christina. “I was going to bring them back to you, but you’re here now. I have my own world of problems. Something’s wrong in Kar’m, and I have to get a handle on it.”

  “Mineau’s not safe,” said William, looking up at her, his eyes sharing some of the horror he’d seen.

  Christina shook her head. “Did you hear about the airship bombing at the palaces of Myke? Nowhere is safe these days, Will. Tee, Elly, even Mounira, they’ve proven themselves to be quite capable. Take them with you, it sounds like you need all the help you can get.”

  “I can’t,” said William, insistently. “I can’t take them.”

  Christina stood up in frustration. “That’s not an answer. You can’t just keep refusing information and relying on my sense of morality to backstop all of this. Not this time.”

  William put his head in his hands. “You must have seen the Red Hoods around, right? They aren’t with Pieman. They’re with Caterina Maurice.”

  “We ran into one at Elly’s house. He wore an old-style Fare cloak. What does this have to do with anything?” asked Christina.

&n
bsp; “I think…” he paused and scratched his beard. “I think she’s got all the royals, even the one’s the Piemans got over-thrown, behind them. They were shipping people off from Minette and Mineau to Kaban.”

  “Slavers?”

  William nodded, his eyes filled with unspoken guilt.

  Christina’s eyes moved around the room as she put the pieces together. “Jennifer, and Elly’s parents?”

  He nodded again.

  She sat quietly, trying not to think of all the horrible stories she’d heard about Kaban and how they treated slaves, particularly northern ones. “Where’s the Tub in all of this?”

  William shook his head. “Almost all of my usual contacts are dead, missing or working for the other side. I haven’t heard from my dad in months. I’m on my own.”

  “The kids can help,” offered Christina half-heartedly.

  He looked at her, tears in his eyes. She lowered her gaze in agreement.

  “I was hoping to find Bakon and Egelina-Marie here, to have them come with me, but I was told you guys haven’t seen them.”

  Christina shook her head. “Sorry.”

  William threw up his hands. “Well, that’s it then. That’s why. I have to go after Jennifer and the others. I can’t abandon them.”

  “No, you can’t go after them,” countered Christina. “You know history as well as I do, you can’t go to Kaban. They are lost and gone. You have a moral obligation to not make Tee an orphan.”

  “And what about Elly? What about the lives of all of those people, who were my friends and neighbors? How can I just go on knowing that I did nothing?” he asked, tears streaming down. “How?”

  Christina stared at the floor between them. “I’ll do the best I can with the kids. It’s only going to make things in Kar’m more complicated.”

  “I understand,” he said wiping his nose on a handkerchief. “And thank you.” He stood and walked over to the door. “I’d better get going.”

  She turned, her head shaking. “You can’t do this alone.”

  “Maybe I’ll find some along the road,” he replied with a half-smile.

  “What road is that?” she asked.

  “The road to redemption.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Watt Shines Brightly

  Ruffo stared nervously at Franklin. “You really think this is going to work? I mean, that’s a freaking guarded manor over there. It’s practically a castle. Are you even allowed to just walk up to those?”

  Gesturing to Stefano and Ruffo’s new clothes, Franklin said, “I was right about the card games, wasn’t I? I know what I’m doing. Do you like how you look now? You gentlemen need to simply consider this like knocking on the door of an establishment… sorry, place… that has someone in it who owes you money. Be firm, but not rude. Show some class.”

  Stefano nodded as he wrapped his mind around it. “I get it. Hey, thanks, that actually helped, Franky. Huh.” He smiled at his long time buddy.

  Ruffo gave Franklin a light punch in the arm, having learned the amount the kid could take the day before. “Three days, and now you’re starting to make some sense when you talk.”

  The thugs sauntered up to the iron bars of the portcullis, with Franklin walking a few feet behind them. Ruffo picked up a stick and, even though one of the guards was staring squarely at him, proceeded to bang it along the bars. “Hey, excuse me, anyone home?” he asked loudly.

  Franklin rolled his eyes. “Here’s goes everything,” he muttered.

  “State your business,” commanded the guard. He was wearing light chainmail armor and a helmet with a wide metal brim. Franklin was surprised to see the guard wearing the colors of Staaten, for they were technically in Elizabetina. He wondered if something had happened, and found himself missing home for a moment. He ‘d always kept up to date on the latest events there.

  “I’ve got…ah… I’ve got Franklin…” Ruffo froze, sweating. He glanced back at Franklin with panic in his eyes.

  Stefano hit him in the shoulder and picked up the slack. “We’ve got Franklin Charles David Watt here to see your guy, Simon St. Malo,” he said. He smiled proudly that he’d made it through the giant mouthful successfully.

  Two more guards approached the portcullis. After a quick discussion, one bellowed, “Go away!”

  Ruffo and Stefano glanced back at Franklin.

  “Imagine someone in there with something you want,” he reminded them. He crossed his fingers.

  Stefano nodded and walked right up to the iron bars. “Um, listen. You’ve got what, a half-dozen archers and some riflemen around? Do we look like a threat? We’re just two guys and a kid. But this kid? He’s a genius that your genius guy’s been looking for. I’m not saying he’s an Abominator or nothing, I’m just saying that your guy wanted to talk to him. So, here he is. For talking.”

  The guards chatted amongst themselves.

  Ruffo glanced about, as if he was concerned that someone might overhear him. “Hey guys, come here.” He motioned for the guards to join him right up close. “Look, we don’t want this to get messy. Here’s a little something.” He dropped a few small coin pouches as Franklin had expected. “You know, to cover any lost wages in having to help us, right? This is no bribe or nothing, it’s just covering what we figure you fine gentlemen are paid. Just a friendly thank you, really.”

  Franklin couldn’t believe his ears as they filled with the sound of the portcullis going up.

  Alfrida carefully opened the door to Simon’s study. It had been a rocky several weeks since the Regent Caterina had appointed her to replace Cleeves. Simon’s fear of the Lady in Red had visibly restrained his temper long enough for him to realize that Alfrida was truly excellent at what she did. As much as he believed her to be spying on him for Caterina, he appreciated things like pots of tea appearing out of nowhere when he wanted them.

  She listened intently before stepping in. She rarely entered in the early afternoon, and didn’t want to surprise him. “High Conventioneer St. Malo?” she called out softly, creeping in. She slowly made her way through the labyrinth of bookcases until she found Simon at one of his workbenches, asleep. He was surrounded by an astounding mass of crumbled up papers and a strange vertical black board with white writing on it. The top of his greasy head of salt and pepper hair was all that was visible at first.

  Sounding like a dragon awakening at the start of a bad mood, Simon grumbled. “Are you wondering about the board?” he asked, rubbing his face. “That was the gift from Conventioneer Pillans. It’s what you had those animals haul in last week… I’m surprised those men didn’t knock over every bookcase in here. I decided to assemble it last night. Please send a thank you basket or whatever to James for me.” He scratched his head and chin vigorously and then stopped, and gazed at the blackboard. “It’s a good little invention. The man sees the simple things that are needed. The chalk is easy to make, too, at least according to his notes.” Simon tossed papers into the air until he found what he wanted. “Here, make lots. Even…” he bit his tongue to keep from insulting her. “Never mind.”

  Alfrida nodded and took the paper from him. With a repulsive sniff, she asked, “Have you… bathed yet sir? It’s been—”

  Simon frowned. “I don’t have time for anything, save for eating, and barely that. But you know that, don’t you, spy? Are you testing me?”

  With a sigh, she repeated once again, “I am not a spy. I am here to help you, sir.” She straightened her long coat and bow tie, and then fixed her pony-tail. “Appearance is important. Particularly when one has an unexpected visitor.”

  “What type of idiot shows up at this hour of the morning?” asked Simon, rubbing his face. “I have no time for them. Shoot them or send them away, I don’t care.”

  Alfrida raised a finger, drawing his attention. “Firstly, it is early afternoon, sir. And secondly, he is accompanied by two men of significant size, and is apparently a genius of some note.”

  Simon growled. “Unless these men are gian
ts and the other one is dragging his massive brain behind him, I don’t care.”

  “His name is Franklin something Watt, I’m told,” she said.

  He started shooing her away. “Shoot them, throw them out, whatever. Fetch me some tea and a new shirt if you can, you seem to be behind on knowing what I want.”

  Deciding to push even further, Alfrida asked gently, “Isn’t Watt the name of one of the inventors you have retained?”

  He looked at her blankly. “Hold on.” He took a moment to get his mental bearings. “Did you say Franklin Watt? Is he a teenage boy?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve seen him myself. Likely fifteen or sixteen years old, and about your height. Dark blond hair, black eye, well dressed.”

  Simon glared at the twenty-year-old woman, tapping his fingers on the workbench. “Bring him in.”

  “Immediately, sir?” she asked, looking at his wrinkled and tea stained shirt.

  “I have no time for anything else.”

  “I could arrange things so that you have time for the bath that is already poured.”

  “So you are ahead of me. Fine. I’ll be there in a moment.” Simon glanced at the number of days remaining he’d scrawled in the upper corner of his workbench. It was bad enough that he hadn’t made any significant headway deciphering Klaus’ plans the Lady had left him.

  There was a loud knock at the study’s door. Simon finished neatening his workbench and started making his way to the front seating area. “Come!” he bellowed.

  Alfrida opened the door and stepped in. “I present Franklin Charles David Watt, son of the inventor Maxwell Watt.” She ushered Franklin in and closed the door behind them.

  Simon studied the boy as he took in the grandeur of the study. It was almost the size of the royal library, which was only a few miles away. Its thirty-foot ceiling and skylights made it seem unbelievably large, with bookcases along the wall from floor to ceiling and eight-foot bookcases everywhere in-between.