Shadow of the War Machine (The Secret Order) (34 page)

David tried to follow, but he was limping terribly. Josephine took him by the hand and looped his arm over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he murmured, then looked over at me. “Where is Michael?”

“Michael is lost.” And how many others? I didn’t know.

David bowed his head, and his shoulders slumped as his bravado faded. A man ran toward us with a loose-limbed gait, his wild hair flying in all directions, the side of his face smeared with blood.

“Oliver!” I cried.

A terrible gash sliced through his eyebrow, but other than that he seemed unharmed. He folded both of us into his embrace. “Thank heaven,” he said as he squeezed us so tight that I lost my breath. “Lucinda would never have forgiven me. What of the others? What do you know?”

“Michael is dead,” I said. “Samuel’s gravely injured. Will has a broken leg and rib. Papa is tending to him on the other side of the juggernaut.” Oliver nodded, his mouth set in a grim line.

“And what of the Haddocks?” he asked. Josephine stiffened, then slipped away back into the shadows.

I felt for her, but now was not the time to reveal her heritage. I returned my attention to Oliver. “Haddock’s daughter and her son, the man in the mask, are both dead. It’s finally over. There is no one left who is a threat to us.”

Oliver crossed himself and raised his eyes to the ceiling, then gathered himself and took command. “I’ll help Henry and Will. Peter, Noah, and Manoj are making carts and sleds from broken Amusements so we can move the wounded. Go and help them. We must evacuate the chamber until we can determine the structural integrity. Everyone is to gather back at the Academy.”

David and I found the rest of my friends near the tunnel. They were helping to lift John Frank onto a cart. John was one of the most vibrant men I had ever met, and yet he seemed listless as they placed him gingerly on the platform.

That’s when I saw a flash of red and noticed that the lower half of his arm was missing. The bloody stump was covered over with cloth and a tightly strapped belt.

“John!” I ran to his side.

He grimaced weakly at me, but his flashing teeth still looked bright in his dark face. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” He coughed. “I’d shake your hand, but I seem to be missing mine.”

A tall Russian Amusementist whom I hadn’t spoken to called another man over and wheeled John down through the tunnel.

I turned back to my friends, so terribly glad that they were unharmed. Peter took my good hand. He gave it a squeeze without saying any words. All of us looked stricken, and words eluded me as well. “Here,” he said, leading me to another cart. “You look like death.”

I shook my head at him as Manoj came to my side to aid me. “Is it true? Is Michael dead?” he asked.

I swallowed, then nodded. “Samuel’s injuries are severe.”

Manoj went quiet, his dark eyes downcast. He seemed to have difficulty piecing together all that had happened. We all did. Noah put his arm around David’s shoulders, and the two walked away together. “That’s at least nine dead. I don’t know how many have been wounded,” Manoj said quietly.

Just then Oliver returned with my grandfather, supporting Will between them. Josephine followed after them.

They placed Will on the cart. Papa had used Will’s shirt to tie his leg to the splints and wrap around his ribs. Will had pulled his coat back on, but he was still a long way from decent.

It didn’t matter. With my ruined dress I was hardly decent either.

I tucked myself into Will’s side as Peter and Manoj wheeled us down the long dark tunnel.

Josephine carried a torch and walked beside us.

“So much is destroyed,” she said. “So much is lost.”

“It will be rebuilt,” I promised. I took Will’s hand. Some things were gone forever, and we would have to grieve them, but in time those wounds would heal.

“I don’t know what to do now,” Josephine said. “I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”

“I could always use some help in my toy shop,” I offered. “Boarding is free for family.”

Josephine glanced sideways at me, but the barest of smiles graced her lips. Papa came up beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Yes, we would begin anew.

•  •  •

The rest of that night blurred by in my mind. As we passed out of the catacombs and into the courtyard of the Academy,
I stared up at the stars, and for the briefest moment, my heart felt both light and free.

I whispered a soft good-bye to my parents, feeling at last that they were at rest. Then I succumbed to the flurry of questions and chaos that seemed to surround me at all times.

Will, in spite of his injuries, remained my steady rock, and his calm presence bolstered my spirits as my exhaustion set in.

The Academy became a hive of activity, especially for the few members of the Guild and the Order who happened to be surgeons or bonesetters. I stayed with Will in the infirmary, as men from the Foundry surrounded us, peppering Will with questions about all that had transpired. Time passed in a blur as I slept for what felt like weeks and grieved.

Papa was hailed as a conquering hero returned like Odysseus from hardship and toil. I enjoyed seeing the faces of those who had made a habit of doubting me. It was amusing in the moment, but in the end I paid it little mind. It no longer mattered.

On December 31, as midnight settled over the Academy, a stillness fell over the mass of people filling the building. A bell pealed in the tower.

According to tradition, we were supposed to assemble
in the hall, but circumstances being what they were, those of us still in the infirmary linked hands with those closest to us and affirmed our commitment to each other. Simple words, a simple promise to protect and serve the Order. To place one another above the call of fame or fortune. To uphold bonds of fealty that extend beyond nations, and above all to keep the arcane fire of inspiration burning for as long as the Order stands.

It was our prayer. As our words, spoken in a multitude of languages, drifted up to the canopy of stars above us, I knew a new day, a new year was dawning.

The fate of the war that raged across the sea would now be decided by those who fought for what they believed. The juggernaut would never see the light of day. I felt a surge of hope that 1863 would be a year marked with the promise of freedom.

As I sat in a chair next to Will in the Academy’s infirmary, I knew there was finally truly hope for us.

Spring 1867

I SMOOTHED MY DARK RED
skirts as I ascended the ramp into the courtyard of the Academy. It would be the last time I did so as an apprentice. My fellow classmates lingered about the courtyard, speaking to one another in hushed but excited voices as the birds in the gilded aviary sang “Ode to Joy” in greeting.

I held my head high, smiling as Peter greeted me from the corner where he had stood so long ago on the day I had first met him. As I’d predicted, he still hadn’t entirely grown out of the roundness in his cheeks.

“Apprentice Margaret.” He gave me a courtly bow.

I smiled and curtsied in response. “Apprentice Peter.”

Noah shook his head as he joined us. It struck me how my friends—my brothers—had grown into such fine young men.

Manoj strolled over from the aviary, looking quite impressive with his neat beard. It had grown thick in the last few years. He wore a different turban. Instead of the small knot on the top of his head, his new turban was a bold dark red affair that he wore like a crown. A jewel with the seal of the Order hung on the front of it.

“Manoj, you look quite regal in red,” I mentioned.

He smiled at me, his dark eyes glowing with warmth. “As do you.”

Someone cleared his throat behind me, and I turned. David stood there with his lopsided grin. There was a new humility in him that served him well. “How far we’ve come,” he said. I was glad I could finally count him as a true and trusted friend.

“Indeed.” I was lucky.

He bowed and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

We entered the hall for the Gathering, nodding to John Frank, who stood at the door, holding it open with his mechanical arm. He winked at me, and I smiled.

The seats of the hall were filled with Amusementists, each robed in dark red with a hood covering his head. They held torches aloft. Those who had passed their apprenticeship filed down the steps and collected on the floor of the hall.

I remembered feeling alone during the night of my initiation, but no longer.

I was surrounded by friends, and I had family here to welcome me.

I cast my eyes to the ceiling as my grandfather, dressed in the ceremonial black robes and adorned with a gold chain around his neck, descended from on high. The platform lowered from the ceiling, surrounded by pillars of fire curling up brass armatures at all four corners.

As my grandfather stepped forward from the embrace of the arcane fire, he lowered his hood and smiled at all of us.

“As head of the Secret Order of Modern Amusementists, I greet you, the newest members of our noble fellowship.”

One by one he called my fellow apprentices to him. As he did so, Oliver and Nigel adorned them with their own red robes. Grandfather then laid a chain around each of their necks, as pictures formed of light projected upon the back wall. The pictures proudly displayed the personal insignia of each new member.

He honored David especially as head of the class. It had been a very close race, but in the end David had deserved credit for the amazing things he had accomplished, and I was proud of his achievement. I was also proud that for the most part I’d matched him wit for wit. We’d often been set against one another in competition, and the record tipped only slightly in his favor, but the tipping point had been worth it.

We all turned as Samuel entered at the back of the hall, wheeling himself forward in his chair. Manoj and Peter reached him and offered a hand. He placed one golden foot forward, planting it solidly on the stone floor, and he rose.

The hall erupted in cheers as Samuel walked forward on his mechanical legs as easily as he had ever done before the amputations. I didn’t fight the tears that stung my eyes. For as terribly as our relationship had started, I now called Samuel my friend. “Well done, David,” I whispered. It was his finest invention.

After all others had been called, I alone stood on the floor, with the whole of the Order watching me.

“And finally, Apprentice Margaret Anne Whitlock.” Papa’s voice cracked.

Behind him, in bright white light, an image appeared on the wall.

A beautiful bird with wings outstretched looked to the sky, ready to take wing. Her feet rested on a perfect half circle, a rock beneath her feet. I walked forward, trying to remain stoic even though my heart felt full to bursting.

“Fine work, Meg,” Oliver whispered as I held my arms out and he and Nigel wrapped the heavy robe over my shoulders. I could feel the weight of it as they lifted the hood, cocooning me in the pride of all that I had accomplished.

I stepped forward and ducked my head. Papa placed the chain around my neck. In the center a gold medallion had been inscribed with my mark.

Lifting my head, I looked into Papa’s eyes. They shone in the glittering light. “I am so proud of you,” he said and clasped my hand. Something cold pressed into my palm.

I looked down. In my hand rested the clockwork key.

“It’s yours now.” Papa pressed a kiss to my forehead, then reached behind him and took a torch from a stand there. He lit it from the pillars of fire and addressed the gathering.

“May the light of the fire spread in you,” he declared, “As true Amusementists.
Ex scientia pulchritudo!
”

Our former instructors handed us each a torch. From
Papa’s light the fire spread as we passed it from person to person. We held the torches aloft, and let them shine brightly.

It was the fire of a new dawn, and a new life for us all.

•  •  •

That evening I laughed as I entered the parlor of the Strompton townhome. The house was filled with friends and families as we celebrated our graduation.

“Come here, you little scamp. That doesn’t belong to you!” I called as I chased after a knobby-kneed boy with wild brown curls. He had absconded with the doll I had brought as a gift for his newborn baby sister.

I caught him and lifted him as he squealed in delight, his bright green eyes alight with mischief. “Auntie Margaret, put me down!”

“Simon!” Lucinda entered the parlor, and I placed the boy on his feet. I’m not sure which one of us looked more chagrined. “You are a gentleman,” she reminded him. She gave me a sly smile.

He dutifully handed the doll over to his mother, and she rewarded him with a kiss on the head. “Now off to the nursery with you.”

I tucked my hand into the pocket I had sewn into my
dress and palmed a small figure of a knight on a horse, then held it out as the boy passed.

He took it, giggled in delight, and ran out of the parlor.

Lucinda gave me a scolding look. “You spoil him.”

“It’s a calling.” I shrugged.

Lucinda grinned, then folded me in a warm embrace. She held me at arm’s length and sniffled. “You did it, Meg. Truly I am in awe.”

I leaned forward and hugged her again. She was my sister in every way that mattered. “I couldn’t have done it without you. I owe you too much.”

“You owe me nothing.” She left to find her son, and I turned to admire a large bouquet of roses that had been set out as a gift in my honor. The deep red blooms smelled heavenly, and the one bright purple thistle—

A thistle?

Scotland.

Will.

My heart flew into my throat. I pushed past a crowd of people speaking with Josephine and Manoj, and finally escaped out the garden door.

The cool evening air brushed my skin and I glanced
around the terraced garden. Standing by a fountain was a strong young man dressed in his finest kilt.

I ran into his arms, and he held me tight. I felt at once that I was both aloft, flying through the air, and yet had my feet solid and steady beneath me.