Angel of Brass (13 page)

“Would he have told you, though?” Molly
asked. “If he had another lair, I mean?”

“I don’t know.” Jin linked his gloved hands
together and stared down at them. “How are we supposed to get Del
back now, if we don’t even know where she is?”

“Don’t give up so quickly,” Winifred said
gently. “Perhaps the raid on the resurrectionist headquarters will
bear fruit.”

“Indeed.” Gibson said. “There are many
avenues of investigation left, have no fear. Believe me when I say
that I want to find Dr. Malachi’s whereabouts just as badly as you
do.”

Jin didn’t look particularly consoled,
however.
He must be wondering what Malachi is doing to his
sister.

“So what can we do to help?” Molly asked.

“At the moment, very little,” Gibson replied.
“You say that you have a controller at the lab?”

“Yes.” Molly mentally kicked herself for not
thinking to bring it. “You probably want it so that some of the
government scientists can take a look.”

“If you don’t mind, yes. In the meantime,
please do try to stay out of trouble. I hope I don’t have to point
out that you were extremely lucky to survive your little venture
last night.”

“Don’t be so harsh,” Winifred said, frowning
at her husband.

Gibson had the grace to look chagrined. “I
don’t want them thinking that they’re professional spies now,
that’s all.”

“No worries about that.” Molly drained her
tea and set it tiredly aside. “I’ll be more than happy to leave it
to others. I don’t suppose that we can borrow your bath before we
go home tonight?”

“Of course you can.” Winifred rose to her
feet and went to the bell pull to summon the servants. “I’m sure we
can find suitable attire for you both to change into, as well. Due
to the nature of Gibson’s work, you’ll find we keep a wider variety
of clothing, in more sizes and styles, than is strictly normal for
a household such as ours.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Molly
muttered.

Gibson laughed. “I’m very pleased to hear
that. Jin, if you’ll come with me, we’ll get you taken care
of.”

As they headed for the door, Gibson gestured
to the newspaper folded on the table. “Would you care to read the
paper while you soak in the tub?”

“No, I—” Jin stopped abruptly, staring at the
paper. Then, with an oath, he snatched it up and unfolded it.
“That’s him!”

Everyone looked at Jin curiously. “Him who?”
Molly asked.

“The man who was talking to the
resurrectionist last night!” Jin turned the paper around and tapped
the engraved image that occupied most of the front page. Curious,
Molly took it from him, and saw that the picture depicted Queen
Rowena, standing alongside a portly man.

“Are you certain?” Gibson asked. Molly
glanced up and saw that he had gone pale.

Jin nodded. “I’m sure. I was only a few feet
away, and I got a good look. That’s him.”

Gibson sank down into the nearest chair. “Oh.
Oh, dear. We have a problem.”

“What is it?”

Gibson took the paper from Molly and stared
down at the picture. “The man you saw working with the
resurrectionists, the man in this picture, is the queen’s cousin,
Duke Reynard. I think I’m safe in saying that she cares more for
him than anyone else in the world. He’s been her best friend and
confidante since childhood. Anyone else, I could call in for
questioning. But if I accuse Reynard...let’s just say that, without
ironclad proof,
we’ll
be the ones to find ourselves in the
dungeon.”

Chapter 9

Without any better plan at the moment, Jin
accompanied Molly to the institute the next morning and loitered
about while she went to class. It felt odd, watching the students
go about their lives, with no bigger problems than what grade
they’d made on their last test, or whether their latest infatuation
returned their affection. He tried to imagine what that sort of
life might be like and failed miserably.

Any hope that he’d felt had vanished with the
revelation that their enemy was possibly the most powerful person
in the kingdom after Queen Rowena. Gibson had left to lead the raid
on the resurrectionists’ headquarters while Jin was still in the
bath, but any evidence he found there would have to be better than
good. Unless Gibson uncovered a confession signed in Reynard’s own
hand, Jin doubted it would help.

The more time they spend chasing down the
resurrectionists and trying to build a case against Reynard, the
less time they have to rescue Del.

The bleak truth was that, although Gibson
seemed to think Malachi was a critical piece of the puzzle, his
importance paled beside that of Duke Reynard. Gibson’s resources
weren’t infinite, and if a conflict arose, Jin knew which person
Gibson would pursue.

I can’t blame him, not really. He’s got the
entire kingdom to worry about, after all.

But still, he wouldn’t even know about the
conspiracy if not for me. He owes me, and that means finding out
where Father has taken Del.

After too many hours alone with his own
thoughts, Molly rejoined him by a fountain near the center of the
institute. “How was class?” Jin asked. He had only the most vague
idea of how formal schools worked; all of his education had come
through the private tutors Malachi hired, and who had invariably
vanished without a trace once they’d outlived their usefulness. If
nothing else, Jin suspected that the school had a more humane
retirement policy.

Molly dropped her bag of books to the ground
and sat by him on the edge of the fountain. The water had been
turned off for the winter, no doubt to keep the pipes from
freezing, so it made for a dry perch.

“Not as badly as if I’d had a test,” Molly
groaned. “After last weekend, I think I would have failed even a
basic math exam, let alone Transdimensional Harmonics.”

He remembered what she had said before, about
her need to avoid jeopardizing her grades. “I’m sorry,” he said,
not knowing what else he could do. “You can back out of this any
time, and I won’t blame you. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yet another conversation we’ve already had,”
she said, but the smile she gave him was fond. “Don’t you listen to
anything I say?”

“Yes, I do.”
I just find it hard to
believe that anyone would go to such trouble for me
.

“I have to go to work now,” she told him.
“After closing, Liam will drop by, and we’ll take a look at the
controller.”

Jin frowned, wondering if he had remembered
wrongly. “I thought Gibson wanted it.”

“Oh, that’s right—you were in the bath when
we had that conversation.” Molly stood up and stretched. “Gibson
changed his mind. Now that we know Duke Reynard is involved...well,
we don’t really know who to trust, do we? He thought it was too
dangerous to take a chance, so he asked Liam and me to look at it
instead. We’re to try and figure out if there’s an easier way of
disabling it than smashing it to pieces with a wrench.”

“Oh. That’s smart,” Jin agreed.

“You’re welcome to come to work with me,”
Molly added, a bit shyly.

Jin immediately started to agree, then caught
himself.
The shop is one of the places the smiling men know I’ve
been. Would they think to keep a watch on it?

Why would they, though? They don’t know I
have any reason to return there, and probably think I have every
reason to keep moving. I was near the docks when they caught me
before, so maybe they think I meant to leave Eroe altogether.

And if Father—Dr. Malachi—felt he had to
move the entire manor somewhere else, he would have recalled them
to help, wouldn’t he? They probably aren’t even in the city
anymore
.

“All right,” he agreed with a smile. “If you
think your boss won’t mind.”

She snorted indelicately. “Master Singh
probably won’t even notice that you’re there.”

* * *

When they arrived at the shop, Molly’s master
was arguing with a woman wearing what appeared to be some sort of
brass exoskeleton strapped to her legs. When Jin shot Molly a
worried glance, she only shook her head. “That’s Naga Rindi—she
owns a shop down the street. She comes over once a week so they can
have tea and call each other names.”

“Ah, to hell with you, you old coot!” Naga
shouted, waving her arms dismissively. “Your logic is as flawed as
always.” Catching sight of Molly, she called, “If you want to work
in a real shop, you come see me!”

Master Singh’s face turned an alarming shade
of purple. “Trying to steal my best employee, are you? Get out of
my shop this instant, you venomous snake of a woman! Away with
you!”

She tossed her black hair and strode out the
door, the exoskeleton creaking and sighing weirdly. Jin wondered
what it was for, but decided that it might not be prudent to
ask.

Singh watched her go; when he turned back to
them, his face was beaming. “Molly! You’ve brought a friend, have
you? Come, come, introduce us.”

Singh’s pleasure at his presence took Jin
aback. Molly introduced them, and the round-faced man immediately
launched into a series of questions: how had Jin met Molly, how
long had he known her, where did he come from, did he intend to
stay in Chartown? Fortunately, Molly managed to come up with
vaguely plausible answers to the most difficult questions, and
Master Singh didn’t seem inclined to suspicion. It was only after
the man had gone back to tinkering on his own project that Molly
sighed and said, “Sorry about the interrogation.”

Jin watched Singh set to work. “Is
he...trustworthy?”

“Oh, it’s not that.” A delicate blush
unexpectedly spread across her freckled cheeks. “It’s just that he
worries about me. He thinks that I spend too much time working.
When he saw you, he, er, jumped to conclusions.”

It took Jin a moment to realize what she
meant. “Oh. He thinks that you and I are, uh, involved?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he
cursed himself for an idiot.
I’ve gotten too used to her—too
comfortable. Saints, I have to watch my mouth before I say
something truly stupid
.

Molly’s blush deepened at his words, but he
caught sight of a little smile on her face when she turned to a
nearby steam car. “Here,” she said, pulling up the hood. “You can
help me fix the motor.”

Jin helped out as best he could, which mostly
consisted of learning which tools were which and handing them to
her. Molly explained some of what she was doing, and although he
couldn’t follow most of it, it was obvious from the way her eyes
lit up and her voice rose that she found it fascinating.

Which was a good thing, he thought, watching
as she slid under the car so that only her legs protruded from
beneath. Everyone should enjoy their work.

And what about me? What do I enjoy?

He liked to play the violin, but he wasn’t a
professional at it. And of course there was his rig, but at the
moment he wasn’t entirely certain he’d ever even see it again. The
lessons from his tutors had been bearable, but none of the subjects
had transfixed him. Of course, given that Malachi had hired them
only for what he considered to be the important aspects of an
education, there could be a whole world of knowledge that Jin
didn’t even know existed, which might hold the key to his own
future.

He’d never thought about the future before,
he realized with a start. When the only possible speculation had
centered around what fresh horror Dr. Malachi would come up with
next, there hadn’t been much point.

Maybe, if Gibson were able to track down Dr.
Malachi and arrest him, if Del was freed, then perhaps Jin wouldn’t
have to leave Eroe after all. Maybe they could stay in Chartown,
and he could find out what he did enjoy. Maybe he could spend more
afternoons like this one, helping Molly out and watching her
work.

Thinking too far ahead is just inviting
trouble. Saints, we’re not even close to freeing Del, let alone
stopping the conspiracy. I need to stay focused, not get caught up
in stupid daydreams.

But it was hard not to dream, as Molly slid
out from under the machine and gave him a grin. She made him want
to think about the future, for the first time in his life. And
maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all.

* * *

That afternoon, Molly finished repairs on the
steam car and sent word to its owner, who came by to pick it up.
The owner spent most of his time thanking Master Singh, although
Jin sourly reflected that he hadn’t seen Singh do a bit of work on
anything other than of his own project, which Molly said was some
sort of anti-burglar automaton. Jin’s disapproval must have shown
in his expression, because Molly gave him a grin.

“I know what you’re thinking, and don’t,” she
said in a low voice, so that neither customer nor master would hear
her. “Singh means well, and he pays well. Some of the customers
don’t like the idea of a student working on their things, no matter
how skilled that student might be. If Singh didn’t let them give
him the credit, they’d take their business elsewhere.”

“But that’s not fair!” Jin exclaimed,
outraged. “You’re better than half the mechanics in this city!”

She blushed again; he seemed to have acquired
the knack of embarrassing her. “Thanks. I appreciate your
confidence, but not everyone shares it.”

“They will. Eventually. Once you have your
own shop, or...whatever it is that you want to do.”

The clock on the wall tolled five, and Molly
swore mildly. “That late already? Liam will be here soon. I don’t
suppose you’d mind running out and grabbing us dinner while I
finish up here?”

The street outside was lit by a glorious
sunset, shades of red and gold firing the sky. The weather had
turned colder as the sun made its way west, and an icy breeze blew
Jin’s hair back from his face and brought color to the cheeks of
the pale Eroevians. Jin found a noodle vendor on a nearby street,
her cart clomping along beside her on six iron feet. Huge gouts of
steam rose from the pots on its back when the vendor removed the
lid and ladled noodles into a pair of cheap, waxed-paper boxes. A
second vendor provided two bottles of ginger beer, and Jin took his
findings back to the shop.