Boots for the Gentleman (11 page)

Chapter Five

O
VER
the next few weeks, both Querry and Frolic gradually forgot about their problem. No one troubled them, and they had no more news from Reg, even though Querry made a point of inquiring every few days. Frolic proved almost as adept a cat burglar as Querry himself, and they lived rather well, with plenty to eat and some spare money for clothes and entertainment. Querry almost forgot Frolic’s origins, as he felt so comfortable with him. Frolic proved the perfect partner in every way. With the money he’d stashed away, Querry even considered upgrading their lodgings. Before long, he’d probably be able to afford a small house in the merchants’ district. Maybe one day, they might even move to the country.

But the presence of Frolic’s leather book, and the work of translating it, always snapped Querry back to reality. Very slowly, he transcribed the weird code onto the paper Reg gave him. After he had a few pages, he read them before placing them in the back of the book. Soon he understood how Frolic had been constructed. His creator had put down, in meticulous detail, how his skeleton had been formed, and the complex clockwork at his joints that awarded him such natural movement. Querry discovered that Frolic drew in air so that it could fill sacks in his chest, where the vapor could condense and collect. His heart heated this water, and the small amount of steam produced traveled through a series of channels, turning gears that triggered other gears and powered tiny engines in the most intricate circuit Querry had ever seen. Thus, as long as he had access to air, Frolic had an endless supply of power.

His heart was made of magic. Though it was at times trying, Querry could comprehend the complex mechanics described by the doll maker. Some of the clockwork’s gears were no larger or thicker than a fly’s wing, but Querry understood the function of each, at least in theory. He couldn’t, however, follow the arcane proceedings, and Frolic seemed made at least as much of enchantment as metal and gears. His skin, for example, consisted of fine silk, the clouds of a rosy sunrise, and the soft sighs of children during pleasant dreams, all woven together by an ensorcelled spider on May Eve. The book, at least, claimed so. Possibly it was another code. As for Frolic’s heart, complex alchemy and rare enchantment kept it perpetually warm and able to turn water to vapor. The book explained how, inside a sphere of spell-protected glass, a mixture of dragon’s breath, fire-flower petals, oaths spoken during love, and captive fever-dreams swirled together to produce mystic heat. The huge tome described Frolic’s eyes, his perceptions, and his voice. Though fascinated, before long Querry set it aside. It no longer mattered to him how Frolic worked any more than it mattered exactly how Reg’s stomach processed his dinner.

On the night of the first real snow, Querry and Frolic returned to find even Rushport white and pure as a maiden’s chemise. Few boots had yet carved dirty furrows, and even fewer steam-carriages chugged through, leaving the snow mostly free from the grimy coating they left. The sky above them shone soft gray, similar to Frolic’s curls. During their work, they’d found a fine bottle of port in a gentleman’s library. It now waited within Querry’s coat pocket, but he’d sampled enough to feel warm and giddy. His cheeks glowed with both drink and wind. Frolic looked happy, too, trying to focus on the snowflakes lodged in his long lashes.

“What shall we do?” Querry asked, squeezing his elbow. Though Frolic didn’t need it, Querry had found him a scarlet soldier’s greatcoat. It hadn’t been easy to match his small size, but Querry didn’t want to draw unnecessary questions. The color suited him, making his hair and skin look even more startlingly light.

Looking up at the sky, Frolic said, “Why don’t we just walk? The night is so beautiful. I like it in the open air.”

“Right then.” In his high spirits, any proposal would have pleased the thief. He had to admit the chill air felt invigorating, and the white blanket muffled the din of the neighborhood and hid the grime beneath. He hooked his arm with Frolic’s, and they set off in the direction of the water. If anyone commented, Querry could pretend to be drunk enough to require assistance. Just in case, he took another nip from the bottle.

Not a soul bothered the pair as they walked to the docks and back, feet wet and anticipating the warmth of the quilt and each other. They turned a corner, and Querry heard a familiar voice.

“Well, well, lads,” said the thug in the patched top hat. “Ain’t tonight our lucky night?”

His greasy cohorts laughed, and Querry stopped, his muscles wound tightly and his hand on his sword. The gang wouldn’t get the advantage of surrounding him a second time. In the open they’d never match his speed. He heard the subtle creak of feet packing snow and spun on the ball of his foot, blade held out in front of him. Frolic also turned and drew, and his weight shifted to his back leg. He’d learned well.

“We’ve been looking fer ye,” the leader said menacingly, though he kept a respectable distance. Behind him, the low light glinted off the knives and swords his men produced. Querry counted at least four or five more than last time, but he still didn’t worry.

“It’s a new month, pretty boy. Time to pay them dues. An’ I regret to inform, the rates have gone up a bit. Fifty pounds.”

Querry laughed out loud. This was a factory worker’s yearly income and then some.

“Fifty pounds or an ear,” said the man in the top hat, daring a step and holding the tip of his large knife just below his lip. “Or a nose. Or an eye. I ain’t picky.” Chortling, his gang began to close in. Querry and Frolic pressed their shoulders together, standing almost back to back, sword-arms parallel, their eyes never deviating from the large men.

When they got close enough to really see Frolic, though, all but the leader retreated a step. “Boss,” said one, “he gots a faerie wif ’im.”

“My arse!” the leader shouted.

“I once seen a faerie gentleman all in black, with a big, tall hat and two black cats on a leash,” said another of the thugs. “Seen ’im walking up by the clock tower. Well, two constables came up, beating their sticks against their hands, and told him he had to leave. The gentleman just laughed, an’ next thing I knew, where them two constables had stood was only a pile of turnips and a fat, pink pig eating to his heart’s content. He didn’t do nothin’. Only laughed.”

“You bunch of whimpering girls,” snarled the boss. “You collect my dues or you’ll deal with me. Go on! I want his pretty blue eye for a cufflink.”

They advanced slowly. Most of them were drunk. When a square-jawed brute, lower teeth jutting past his lip, swung a butcher knife at Querry’s throat, the thief parried with a flick of his wrist, sending the weapon into a frozen pile of fish guts ten feet to the side. He similarly disarmed the next attacker, leaving the man without a button for his trousers. When two fat brothers rushed them from the left and right, brandishing clubs the size of small trees, Querry and Frolic each took a step back, leaving them to wallop each other unconscious.

The leader growled with rage, spittle freezing on his chin. From the corner of his eye, Querry saw a small, wiry man sneaking up behind Frolic. He was just about to warn Frolic when the doll turned and thrust deeply, just as he’d been taught. The man, who’d been holding a small knife over his head, had no time to block, and Frolic’s blade sunk deep into his belly. Frolic’s eyes darted to Querry, and he quickly pulled back on his weapon. A font of blood spurted from between the man’s fingers, steaming in the snow.

“Querry,” said Frolic, his voice trembling as he watched his victim sink to his knees and then fall facedown. The dark outline grew around him.

“You did well,” Querry said quickly, remembering the first time he’d had to defend himself. “You did as you must. Keep your wits. There are more of them.” He counted half a dozen, not including the man in the top hat, who showed himself more and more as the kind of man who only got his hands dirty when his victory could be assured: when his opponent had both arms pinned behind his back, for example.

The death of their comrade ignited the bloodlust of the gang, and they rushed Querry and Frolic screaming. Querry ducked to avoid a lead pipe swung at his temple, but caught a fist to the diaphragm as he rose. He landed hard on his tailbone, gulping for air. In desperation he reached for one of his guns, despite the attention a shot would draw. Rough, dirty hands grabbed the sides of his hair. A knee made contact with his lips, swelling them. Pain shot through his jaw and face and blood trickled down his chin. His hand went from his hip to protect his head. The leg in front of him drew back for another blow.

“Querry!” Frolic shouted. With his limited range of motion, Querry saw only a blur of grays and reds as Frolic dispatched two of the attackers with impossible speed. He heard the hum of the enchanted sword, two dull thuds and a sickly squish. Then the bodies fell, one on top of the other. The man holding him was thrown to the side with force well beyond even a strong human. He landed on his side, slid ten feet on the icy cobblestone, and didn’t get up.

Shaking the haze from his head, Querry felt for his rapier and got to his feet. He licked the ferrous taste from his lips. Already Frolic ran toward the final three men, yelling and slicing arcs in the air before him. Querry hurried to follow. By the time he’d reached the group, Frolic had delivered a side-kick to the torso of the man in the leather helmet and goggles, sending him into the thug beside him. Both toppled like dominos, but before they could fall Frolic leapt into the air and hit each in the chest with one of his heels. The third man ran around the group and jumped to tackle Querry. Using the man’s momentum against him, the thief crouched and flipped him over his shoulder. He landed badly on his head, jamming his neck into his shoulders and breaking it. To finish, Frolic went to each of the prone men he’d just defeated and plunged his sword into their throats with a cold sneer on his face. The flurries returned, melting on Frolic’s cheeks.

Battle-lust coursing through him, Querry hacked with his sword and shouted, “Who else wants a go? Come on!”

The man in the top hat turned to run, but Frolic caught him by the coat, spun him, lifted him off his feet and slammed him against the nearest wall. He easily held him there, two feet from the ground, until Querry joined them.

Remembering what he’d suffered, Querry sheathed his blade and punched the man twice in the stomach. “It seems our positions are reversed this time. How does it feel?”

“What, what are you?” the man grunted at Frolic.

“Shut up,” Querry said through his teeth as he hit the man with the back of his knuckles, making him spit out a rotting tooth. “If you ever come near us again, you’ll wish that all I’d done is cut your other eye out. Do I make myself understood?”

He whimpered and nodded.

“Let’s go home and wash the filth off our hands,” Querry said, putting a hand on Frolic’s shoulder. The doll tossed the gang leader far and effortlessly, as if he were a dirty rag instead of a large man.

“I knew you could handle yourself,” Querry said as they turned their backs on bodies already disappearing beneath a blanket of white, “but that was amazing. Where in the world did you learn to do that?”

Frolic stopped in the street and looked down at his hands. Gashes and scabs covered Querry’s knuckles, as he hadn’t been wearing his gloves. The doll’s fingers, while bloody and dirty, showed not a single scratch. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said softly. “When I saw them hurt you, I became so angry. I wanted to destroy them. To just tear them to pieces. I don’t think I could have stopped myself.”

“You have nothing to worry yourself about. If you hadn’t, it would be us lying back there. I don’t think they’ll bother us again.” They started off again, the snow building icy caps on the tops of their heads. Querry’s blood still sang with victory and violence. He felt fantastic. Tonight, he decided, he would make love to Frolic. They’d proved quite a team, and the time to cement their union had come. Finally, guilt and uncertainty would be swept away. There would be only bodies writhing in pleasure, finally joined the way they both desired. In the dark, quiet street, Querry laughed out loud, caught Frolic’s hand, and quickened his pace.

M
UCH
about the boarding house felt familiar to Querry: drunks and whores cluttering the stairwells, heated quarrels spilling from behind thin doors, and beggars crouched in the shadows, hoping to go unnoticed and avoid expulsion. But something felt wrong in the way the other tenants eyed the two men, looking quickly away if noticed. Fear hung in the air. Querry knew the other residents felt no loyalty toward him, so he didn’t question them. He did stay near to Frolic, though, and urged him quickly through the shadows between the pools of candlelight from the wall sconces.

When they reached their room, Querry saw right away that the door had been pried loose with a bar. Deep gouges marred the frame. He held up his hand and Frolic stopped. In the dark houses of the wealthy, the two thieves had perfected non-verbal communication. Querry pressed his ear to the door and listened for many minutes to silence. Cautiously he opened it a crack. It creaked and bits of his clockwork lock pinged against the floor. A shaft of light from the window assured him the room was empty, and also that it had been thoroughly ransacked. The table lay on its side, gears spilled everywhere. The mattress had been ripped from the bed and slit open. Food and dishes had been flung about, chipping the plaster walls.