A Study In Ashes Part 53

"Ma'am," Alice clutched the woman's sleeve with both her hands, her expression pleading. Poppy could see all the strain of the last week in Alice's face. The color had left her lips, making her look deathly ill. Dried blood trailed down one side of her face. The only brightness about Alice was the fire of her hair, which was falling loose from its pins. "Ma'am, please, I'm looking for my son."

The woman stopped, her face softening a degree. "And he's supposed to be here?"

Alice swayed slightly, but took a deep breath. "The Gold King or his men would have brought him, most likely with his nurse."

"No one has come here." The woman shook her head. "Everyone who can is leaving, and I suggest you do the same." With that she pulled away, grabbing her bag and hurrying as fast as her short, thick legs would go.

Alice let out a despairing cry. "He has to be here!"

But Poppy didn't think the woman had lied. She held Alice a moment, giving her what comfort she could-and needing some of that comfort herself-but her mind was racing. "We need to go."

But then the soldiers at the end of the alley began firing round after round. It was a steady barrage-some rifles and some aether weapons-so fast that the individual shots melted into a steady noise. However, it only lasted seconds before the men fell back, yelling with terror.

Poppy screamed, too. A huge snake reared up in the entrance to the lane, head higher than the Yellowbacks, body a thick rope of glistening black scales. Its mouth opened in a warning hiss, swordlike fangs unfolding from its jaws. The hood of its neck flared, half the width of the lane. It swooped down, striking one of the Yellowbacks with a blow so hard Poppy heard bones crack. And then it unhinged its huge jaws and began gulping the man headfirst with convulsive swallows. The other Yellowbacks rained bullets on the monster, but they plinked off harmlessly.

"Poppy!" Alice cried.

But she couldn't take her eyes off the thing, her entire body turning cold with horror. She was fascinated, caught like a rabbit. A soldier with a magnetic aether weapon opened fire, but the blast sizzled harmlessly around the snake in a coruscating blue haze. Whatever the thing was, it was not made of flesh and blood, but magic and steel. This fell from that zephyr. There were hundreds of them! Suddenly, every inch of her skin was crawling.

"Poppy!" Alice shook her. "Run!"

Poppy snapped out of her daze as the snake started on its second course. "Run," she repeated with an enthusiastic nod, and then set action to words. Running felt wonderful.

Alice led the way, hurrying east. They burst into the square where the market should have been, but it was in disarray. The square was usually bustling with vendors selling fruits, vegetables, flowers, and whatever else a person could want. Now it looked as if the wares had been set up for the day, but then chaos had taken over. Produce was strewn everywhere, and the sharp scent of crushed fruit permeated the air. A handful of people were dodging through the square trying to get to the other side, some of them with weapons drawn. Poppy skirted around a table, her feet rolling dangerously on a scatter of apples. She stooped to retrieve a walking stick that someone had dropped and gripped it like a club.

A snake as long as Poppy's arm fell from the building above, landing on the cobbles a few yards to their left. It coiled and wound, moving in a weird sideways crawl that ate the distance between them. Alice jerked Poppy away, but she was saved only because the thing struck at a man who tried to push past them. He fell with a cry, immediately paralyzed by the bite. Poppy spun, shocked, but Alice hauled her forward.

There were more serpents oozing out of the windows above. One dropped, landing nose-first, and its head shattered in an explosion of gears-but the tail kept thras.h.i.+ng. A man shot it with his pistol, the force of the bullet making it flip in the air. But then a serpent shot from beneath a bushel of onions, slithering up the gunman's leg.

Cold metal brushed Poppy's leg and she shrieked, slas.h.i.+ng out with her stick. It connected with something, but she was bolting too fast to see more. Poppy's feet were heavy and numb, but panic forced her onward. She could hear herself gasping, her ribs struggling against her stays. Alice looked no better, tears streaking her ashen face, but both kept moving. There wasn't a choice-until a knot of people milling in panic up ahead told Poppy the west side of the market was no escape. The crowd swirled and eddied like water hitting a dam.

"More snakes," Alice gasped, pointing. "Straight ahead and north." She was trembling in panic, her raspy breath starting to catch in terrified hiccups.

Poppy clung to her own self-control. "Then we go toward the river. We have to get away from the buildings."

Alice gave a sharp nod and they turned left as soon as they could, fighting through the press of bodies. Others had the same idea and it would have been hard to change direction if they'd wanted to. The surge carried them forward, Poppy's feet barely touching the earth at some points, but she clung to Alice's hand.

The squash of the crowd got slightly better the moment they emerged onto the Strand. At that moment Poppy realized that the snakes hadn't been working randomly. Thousands of people were being forced out of the market and toward the Thames, where the Blue Boys waited.

It might have been a ma.s.sacre, but the Blue King's army weren't the only ones there, and the press of civilians pouring out of Covent Garden was the least of their worries. The Yellowbacks had opened fire on the Blue. There was an enormous steamspinner coming in from the west, heading toward the gardens along the embankment, and it was firing on the Blue King and the Gold. And there was another force straight ahead, led by a giant, smiling caterpillar. She recognized the man at its helm.

Poppy's heart leapt, and she began yelling at the top of her lungs and waving her stick in the air, not caring if n.o.body could hear her over the din. "Tobias!"

THE ATHENA WAS DROPPING FAST. IT WAS A SUBTLE THING, but Evelina could feel the deck sinking beneath her feet, almost as if she wasn't firmly connected to the floor. And the s.h.i.+p wasn't holding her own against the wind anymore, either; the crosscurrents of air made her shudder and bounce.

Evelina stole a nervous glance through the porthole, and the sight made her recoil in astonishment. The ground was a lot closer now, looking a lot less like a living map. They were over the outskirts of London, streets and houses sliding by beneath. We're too close too fast, Evelina thought grimly.

A sound like a gunshot emerged from the pump, making everyone jump. Striker thumped the side of the pump again and adjusted some valves. "Bubbles in the aether," he said.

Evelina peered nervously at the lime-green concoction, which seemed to be effervescing. She'd mixed the aether without blowing anything up, but she was still holding her breath that it wouldn't explode. A large bubble of gas formed and popped, and the s.h.i.+p shuddered again, reminding Evelina of a hiccup. "It's not supposed to do that, is it?"

"Huh," Striker said, an odd expression on his face. "Looks like green beer."

More bangs and pops emerged from the pump, but the s.h.i.+p began to stabilize. Evelina felt the rapid descent slow and then reverse, new lift floating them upward. Striker met her eyes, and they shared a moment of relief.

Evelina went to find Nick, holding on to the handrail of the walkway because the steamspinner seemed to be listing slightly from side to side, her responses sluggish. She guessed the hole in the Athena's side had done something to her stability.

When Evelina reached the bridge, there was only a handful of people there; everyone else was busy readying arms or repairing damage. Digby and another man seemed in charge of guiding the s.h.i.+p down-a task she knew would be touch and go. Nick and the Schoolmaster were at the very front, the prince pointing out something on the ground.

As Evelina drew near, she could see the green sweep of Hyde Park to the left and the grounds of Buckingham Palace coming up on the right-but nothing looked the way it was supposed to. Armed men were everywhere, but that was only the beginning. The war machines of the makers pushed forward, from Steamers armored like armadillos to many-legged trebuchets, from shambling siege towers to a gigantic drill on steam-powered wheels. Evelina caught a closer glimpse of the enormous dog that had followed them from the laboratories. Though she couldn't hear, it seemed to sit up on its haunches and howl as the steamspinner flew overhead.

"They look like an undisciplined rabble compared to the Gold King's army," said the Schoolmaster. "But no one is truly powerless when they have an idea, a pint of bitter, and a screwdriver."

The s.h.i.+p lurched, and Evelina stumbled. Nick turned just in time to catch her. "Athena!" he snapped, and then winced as the s.h.i.+p said something back.

"What's wrong?" Evelina asked, grabbing the wall as the s.h.i.+p clumsily righted herself.

"She's drunk!" Digby snapped from his position at the helm. "The b.l.o.o.d.y s.h.i.+p is soused as a sailor. That's not supposed to happen."

"We used the scrumpy to mix the aether," Evelina explained sheepishly. "She's literally running on fumes."

Digby gave her an incredulous look.

Another hiccup shuddered through the vessel. "It's giving me a headache," Nick said under his breath. He looked as if he already had the hangover while his s.h.i.+p enjoyed the party. The Schoolmaster was facing the window, but his shoulders shook with laughter.

"You're not helping, Your Highness," Nick said sourly.

There was another hiccup and the engines sputtered.

"Losing alt.i.tude again, Captain," Digby said, his voice tense.

The steamspinner dropped lower, coming in to land with a dangerous bob and weave. Evelina gripped Nick's arm, dizzied by the sudden nearness of the roofs and spires as they rushed toward the ground. He clasped her hand, pulling her around to face him.

"You look afraid," he said, his dark eyes questioning.

"I got your s.h.i.+p drunk. That can't be wise."

He smiled at that, albeit a bit painfully. "Perhaps. But you saved us, and more than once. I know that was your magic that turned those hot harpoons, Evelina. We didn't lose a single crewman, thanks to you."

She managed a smile. "For whatever good I did today, you're welcome." But she thought of everything she hadn't done. Captain Roberts was dead and the s.h.i.+p badly damaged. It seemed no matter how much power one had, it was never enough.

The Athena b.u.mped slightly as it settled to the earth. The next instant, three armies rushed the steamspinner. Only the desire to capture such a magnificent, magical s.h.i.+p in one piece had kept the cannons from blowing her out of the sky, and now the race was on to seize her as a prize of war. But the first of the Gold King's troops had barely reached the Embankment Gardens when the regiments that the steam barons had purchased turned on their masters. The cavalry led by Captain Smythe was the first. They cleared a circle around the Athena, driving the enemy back to establish a protected zone clear to the river on one side and all the way to the Strand on the other.

As soon as it was even marginally safe, Evelina left the s.h.i.+p, needing to feel green under her feet. Nick was of the air, but she needed good earth. But as she stepped away from the ladder, to stand in the shadow of the Athena's belly, it took a moment to orient herself. The s.h.i.+p had swallowed a huge portion of the gardens, and the stink and noise of battle stripped away any sense that they were in a park. The constant booming of weapons rolled like restless thunder behind a steady roar of voices. Screams of pain, outrage, and loss swirled around them. Evelina's magic s.h.i.+fted restlessly, agitated by the tension snapping through the air-and the death. The dark power within her scented prey and rose eagerly, hunger knifing through her.

Nick came up beside her, shading his eyes to see the battle. "What do you think?" His voice was sharp with concern.

Evelina blinked, called back to herself. "I think the rebels are fighting bravely, but I'm no soldier. I can't tell who is winning."

"Are you strong enough to do that trick of yours with the devas?" he asked with a lift of one eyebrow. "I think the steam barons' armies could use some unexpected retooling."

For a beat she didn't understand what he meant, her exhausted brain slow to respond. But then she found herself grinning-with both love and an appreciation of his guile. She'd animated the prince's machines; there was no reason not to do the same with the others. "Captain Niccolo, you are a devious man."

"Always, but only as a force for good."

She opened her mind to the surrounding landscape, and was dragged into the alternate landscape of war. Where smoke swirled in the sky, so did a dozen species of pa.s.sion-the counterpoint to the constant cries and screams. The billows of emotion didn't have a color, but her mind's eye translated it as s.h.i.+fting shades of red and orange, snapping sheets of tortured energy rolling against the gray pall of smoke and destruction. Where the red waves gathered to a peak, crackles of blue fire fountained to white. She had seen such fires once before, the first time Magnus had taught her to use a wand. They were lives, escaping as the body that tethered them died.

Time had no meaning in that state, but it felt as if she stared for a long time in horrified fascination. So many!

And then her dark power rose inexorably to feed-an impulse far beyond her control. It lunged, and she was suddenly immersed in a sensation that was both hot and cold, as if every nerve was overwhelmed with sensation. And it was delicious-a taste and smell that was intoxicating and yet had nothing to do with her external senses at all. It was like absorbing starlight, or bathing in the sound of rain. Most of all, it was ending starvation. After using so much magic to protect the s.h.i.+p, she had been drained without knowing it.

Cautiously, she took Nick's hand, preparing to call their shared magic. For a seasick moment, she wasn't sure it would work-perhaps her magic had grown too dark to summon that pure, brilliant light, or perhaps Nick would push her away in disgust now that he had witnessed her replenish her powers. Slowly, she looked up to see Nick watching her, his dark eyes carefully neutral.

"So that is how death magic works," he said softly.

Cold seeped through her. With one word of disgust, he could blast her world apart as completely as any aether weapon. She began to s.h.i.+ver. "Are you appalled?"

"No. You saved my s.h.i.+p and crew. It would be churlish to complain now." He kept his features still, making his thoughts impossible to read.

Evelina's heart lurched, afraid of the worst. "Nick!"

Quickly, he squeezed her hand. "Evelina, I told you to make this power your weapon and your ally, and you're doing it." But the lines around his mouth were tense.

She swallowed hard. "It's another thing to see it, isn't it? You were raised by Gran Cooper, too. You can't help being horrified."

He shook his head, and his stiff expression melted into one of contrition. "Not horrified. Sobered, because now I see the edge you must dance. I don't think I completely understood what you were going through. And I'm sorry if I treated anything with less weight than I should have."

"Don't be," said Evelina, finally breathing again. "If you'd coddled me any more than you did, I think I would have crumbled altogether."

At that, he finally stirred, taking both her hands and raising them to his lips. His dark eyes met hers for a long, languorous beat. Nick was Nick, always on her side, and the silver fire of wild magic burned bright between them even in the full light of day. Evelina squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body aching with relief and grat.i.tude.

When she opened them again, his lips curled into a smile that mixed mischief, pride, and a vulnerable softness she rarely saw in him. For an instant she glimpsed the family man he might become. And then it was gone, and the captain was back. "You don't crumble, Evelina."

No, she just melted whenever he looked at her. She cleared her throat. "I think you were saying something about needing the devas again."

When she opened her consciousness again-more gradually this time-she felt the familiar rush of spirits eager to join with the wild magic she and Nick shared. She caught them-this time dispensing even with the short verse she had used before. She made her offer wordlessly-more with mental images than anything else. The devas of earth and tree grasped her meaning at once. Too many of the city's gardens had been swept away to make room for commerce, forgetting what was owed to health and spirit. They were willing to fight for their place in the metropolis.

They flowed into the machines, eager to turn the battle against the barons. But the nature spirits weren't plentiful enough to subvert two entire armies, and Evelina searched further, drawing on Nick's strength and the deep well of dark power. When it was firmly in her grasp, she delved deep into the earth and sky around them.

There were other kinds of spirits there, ones that barely had names-but the battle had stirred them to consciousness. At first Evelina thought them earth devas, but they were more than that, and less.

Who are you? she asked.

At first, they didn't know how to answer.

Where do you come from? asked Nick, who seemed to be able to speak to these creatures as easily as she could. Where do you live?

Here, they said, and suddenly Evelina's mind was filled with images of alleyways and iron gates, churchyards and cellars. There was the song of bells and the splash of fountains, the hidden waterways and the whisper of wind in the high places. We are London. And then came angry images of the ramshackle rookeries and sickness, and she understood that these city spirits were every bit as furious with the steam barons as the country devas.

She felt Nick's intake of breath at the same moment as hers. These devas were something new, something neither Gran nor Magnus had spoken of. And yet it made perfect sense. When a city grew old enough, it began to have devas of its own. These were babies compared to the devas of Dartmoor, but they were there and willing to help. Best of all, there were thousands of them.

The dark power rose like a tide, lifting them all. Evelina felt the ma.s.s union of magic and machine almost as an audible click in her mind. It wasn't so much a spell as opening a door between possibilities, permission asked and received.

The devas poured into the war machines of the steam barons, destroying them from the inside out-or turning them on each other. When the foot soldiers saw the artillery developing a mind of its own, many threw down their weapons and ran.

Evelina laughed, but it came out more like a gasp. The magic had left her ringing like a bell, joyous and somber at once. She reached up to realize that her face was wet with tears.

"That should keep them busy," Nick said under his breath, still grasping her hand.

Too soon, the intimacy of the spell was broken. The prince joined Nick and Evelina, a number of airmen ranged around him like a guard. He was tense, the muscles of his jaw jumping. "I need a report. What's going on out there? What is that caterpillar doing?"

Nick answered. "The air devas say the forces with the caterpillar are holding the King Coal's rolling spheres on Waterloo Bridge."

"How? They can't be anywhere near as strong."

"Through sheer cheek and a handful of sharpshooters, from the sound of it."

A cl.u.s.ter of men broke through the fighting and ran forward. Nick and the other airmen drew weapons, closing ranks before the prince, but Evelina cried out in pleasure as soon as she saw who it was. It was half a dozen of the cavalrymen in their blue coats, a lieutenant in the lead, and in their midst walked two figures in civilian clothes. She'd never thought she'd be glad to see Lord Bancroft, but there he was with Bucky Penner. Both men were bruised and dirty, but wore triumphant smiles as they bowed low before the prince.

There was little time for more than the barest formality. Both men nodded a surprised acknowledgment to her, but Bucky quickly unslung a sack from his shoulder and knelt before the prince, Lord Bancroft at his side.

"Your Highness," said Bancroft. "Here are devices that will disable the Gold King's war machines. We brought them to you through the underground, but you should know that from this point west, the tunnels are filled with enemy soldiers."

"How did you get through?"

Bancroft blinked, as if not quite sure how he was still alive. "The men who are in company with my son found us. Not all of our rescuers made it back."

"Your son?" the prince asked.

"The one on the caterpillar."

Tobias? Surprised and yet not, Evelina craned her neck, trying to see over the crowd, but she couldn't see him.

"I thank you for your efforts, gentlemen," said the prince, but he looked at Evelina. "Will these devices conflict in any way with what you have done?"

"No," she said. "The devas will override the war machines, no matter who commands them."

Bucky looked at her with fresh interest, but the prince was already issuing orders. "These need to get to Edgerton and the army to the west. Lieutenant, take a party and see Lord Bancroft and Mr. Penner get through to them safely."

The lieutenant gave a smart salute and gathered his charges, but her attention was drawn away. Several things were happening at once at the near edge of the battle.

Tobias must have had some of those devices, because all at once several of the Gold King's battle engines were using their cannons to clear a path for his caterpillar. This had two effects. The rebel army to the west began pus.h.i.+ng toward him, but a ripple pa.s.sed through the Gold King's lines as a group she hadn't seen before crashed through.

"Who are they?" Evelina demanded, but no one had time to answer her. Smythe's cavalry scattered like rain before the onslaught, horses whinnying in terror. Within seconds, she knew why.

Here were some of the missing inmates of Her Majesty's Laboratories, gathered into a fighting force the likes of which no one had ever seen. They carried no weapons, and rags hung from their gaunt frames, as dirty and bedraggled as the matted ropes of their hair and beards. Like Nellie Reynolds, many were part machine, but where she had kept her personality, these had been turned into something else. Evelina's guess was that their magic had been ripped from them, or twisted somehow to damage their minds, because there was nothing human left behind. Fearless, they arrowed forward at unnatural speed, snarling with savage, catlike teeth bared.

There were more than a dozen, but just as many guns opened fire. Half went down at once, but half still sprinted toward the prince-and such fast targets were difficult. A second volley took more down, but two still came. One was male-his head and one arm seeming to be the only part left that was flesh. The other was a woman, her left leg and right arm made from a framework of s.h.i.+ning steel. Nick aimed and shot the man full in the face, sending him spinning backward, but the woman lunged, clawed hands already reaching for the prince.