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Authors: Augusta Li & Eon de Beaumont

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BOOK: Boots for the Gentleman
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“A zoo. That sounds delightful. What is it?” Frolic asked the old man.

“It’s a bunch of animals in cages,” Querry answered before Dink could respond.

“On second thought, that sounds dreadful.” Frolic stuck his bottom lip out, looking at Dink.

“What you see before you represents decades of meticulous work. But I shall let the work speak for itself, ja?” Dink grabbed a lever, squeezed the handle and pulled. The shining double doors retreated into the wall, revealing a clockwork jungle: trees, plants, and animals all built entirely from spare parts and animated by clockwork and steam. Frolic squealed with glee and ran full tilt, followed closely by the tortoise-headed walking stick, into a clearing ten feet within the room, where a collection of clockwork animals meandered lazily in false sunlight created by a hydrogen lantern suspended high in the vaulted ceiling. A giant metal rhinoceros lumbered over to the pale boy, nudging him with its shiny horned nose until Frolic stroked the side of its enormous jaw. Querry’s eyes widened with amazement and terror.

“Will they hurt him?” he breathed, unable to take in enough air to speak properly.


Nein
,” Dink said, shaking his head. “They look like wild animals but they are as tame as puppies.” Querry was relieved to hear that as a large, copper tiger stalked gracefully over to Frolic and rubbed its head on his thigh like a giant house cat. But even from the doorway, Querry saw the gleaming claws that peaked out from the wide paws. “It is mein greatest creation to date, but not half as impressive as our little friend there. They only approximate life, ja? But Frolic, he
is
life.”

“You know something,” Querry said, still staring into the jungle, not looking at Dink. A large, multicolored parrot glided down from a tree, using small propellers set into its wings to achieve flight. Dink didn’t respond, so Querry said his name.

“Ja. Ja, I think I may know something. Just a story. But after seeing him,” Dink indicated Frolic with a nod. “I cannot believe it is just coincidence.” More animals emerged from the trees now. A raccoon, squirrels and a big black raven approached Frolic as if drawn to him. “He has an instinctual understanding of other clockworks. He can almost see how they vork.” Dink’s voice was dreamy.

“I noticed that too,” Querry said, his eyes still on the animals and Frolic. “Dink. This is amazing. I’m astounded.” He was growing impatient, though. “But the story?”

“Ze story.” Dink sighed heavily. “Ja. Well, there vas a legend about a doll maker who managed to make a doll, a clockwork so perfect that it actually had life. It could think und feel und behave just like a human.” Dink paused. “But better. The doll had none of the frailties that humans suffer. And it vas strong and fast.”

Querry nodded. It all sounded too familiar.

Dink continued, “His dolls vere so beautiful and complex that someone got the idea he could make one a weapon. Twisting his vision. Then he saw how his beautiful, living creation might be misused. So he sealed it up in a hidden chamber and left the creation asleep. Waiting. For what? No one knows.” Dink seemed to have finished his story. He and Querry watched what they both knew was the miraculous creation, petting and playing with Dink’s clockwork menagerie. “There vas supposedly a book. The doll maker eventually was recruited to work on the clock tower, as were all the other clock workers and mechanists at that time. And they tortured the old man eventually, but they never got the book. If there ever vas a book.”

“Oh, there was a book all right. I’ve seen it.” Querry turned to Dink, fixing the old man’s eyes with his own. “Thimbleroy knows the story. He searched the doll maker’s house, before I got there and discovered Frolic. And now he has the book.”


Mein Gott
.” Dink put a hand to his mouth. His worry strengthened his already thick accent. “Zhis is not good. You must get zhis boy avay from zhat man. He’ll stop at nothing. It’ll be your life, Querry.” There was a trumpeting from the clearing and both men jumped at the sudden sound.

“Good Lord, Dink!” Querry exclaimed, “An elephant?”

“It’s beautiful!” Frolic called from the clearing. “Well done, Dink!”


Danke
, my boy. But now you must leave mein little menagerie. You and Querry have much vork ahead of you.” As Frolic trotted back to the doorway, Dink turned to Querry. “I still have some of your things. Clothes und such. Anything else you should be able to piece together, I trust?”

“Of course.” Querry placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Thank you, old friend.”


Nein
. No mention of it. You’ll need a new sword also? I have been working on a vibrating blade that is marvelous at cutting through things.” Dink continued to explain as the trio boarded the lift.

 

 

Q
UERRY
made a list of supplies that Frolic had gathered while the thief slept, still recovering from the fever. After a huge breakfast and some lively conversation with Lizard and his crew, Querry and Frolic set to work replacing the arsenal Querry had lost. Frolic offered some ideas for improvements to Querry’s designs and Dink’s designs as well. Querry felt glad of the work, as it kept his mind from wandering into painful places.

They worked through lunch but took a break for dinner. Remembering how much he loved it and knowing it would help him regain his strength, Dink made Querry a batch of his roasted potato soup with warm pumpkin ale. Though Frolic didn’t eat, he still sat with Querry and the old man and listened to stories of the time Querry spent as a scavenger, laughing heartily and thoroughly enjoying the company.

While Querry put the finishing touches on his weaponry, Dink fetched some of Querry’s old gear from storage. He returned with a leather officer’s jacket with brass buttons down the front, a metal-lined waistcoat with brass gearwheels for buckles, a pair of welder’s gloves and his old Marten boots with the steel toes and spiked soles. Querry slipped into his old gear, which still fit perfectly, and added to it all his new weaponry, including the sword Dink created with the blade attached to a motor, causing it to vibrate for extra damage.

Dink stepped back and looked at the two young men. “Vell,” he said, “I can’t say I’m happy to see you go. I’ve missed you, and it was good having you around again.” He hugged Querry and turned to Frolic with his hand extended. “It was vonderful to make your acquaintance also, young man.” Frolic looked at Dink’s hand and then threw his arms around the old man, hugging him tight.

“Thank you for all your help, Dink,” he said into the mechanist’s shoulder. “Your menagerie is delightful, and I hope I can visit it again.” Dink returned the hug and then held the clockwork boy at arm’s length, tears welling in his eyes.

“Anytime,
jungen
. Anytime at all.”

“You sentimental old fool,” Querry said playfully. “Don’t worry. When the heat dies down, we’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Frolic petted the walking stick on its handle, and they turned to go. Querry turned back.

“Thank you again, Dink. You don’t know how much you’ve helped us.”

“Ja. Zhat’s enough. Go!
Schnell
.” And with that, they left the little shop and its owner behind.

 

 

F
ROM
the bell tower of a cathedral across the street, Querry and Frolic looked down on the sprawling Thimbleroy residence. Wind whipped the thief’s black hair as he stood with his boot propped on a stone windowsill and his elbow on his knee. Doves cooed in the rafters above them.

“You’re sure he has it here?” Frolic asked.

Querry nodded. This difficult job was just what he needed to distract him from Reg. Watching the Tudor-style manor through the telescopic lens of his new goggles, he felt focused, alive with excitement. In the last two hours, over a dozen men had entered or left the building. Some had the posture of hired muscle, while others displayed a sedate, scholarly manner. One man even appeared decidedly magical, with his dark cloak and long, white beard. Light poured from a window on the second floor, toward the eastern corner. Now and then Querry saw a silhouette dart quickly by. At the opposite end of the house, blue and orange flashed from behind a decorative iron screen covering a cellar window.

“There,” Querry said, pointing. “In his study. That’s where we’ll find the book.”

“How do you know?”

“From what Reg has told us about this Lord Thimbleroy, I think it’s safe to assume he wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep it. He’d think them too stupid or inept. Look, more of them are leaving!” Two large men came out the front door, struggling with an obviously heavy, coffin-sized box. Another half-dozen men followed, all of them lugging wooden crates or spools of wire. They waited at the foot of the stone steps, some of them lighting cigarettes, until an open cart drawn by a buckskin workhorse pulled into the drive. Then they loaded their packages and climbed aboard. The driver put his whip to use, and the animal’s breath steamed as it took off at a trot.

“I haven’t seen any light from below in a while,” Frolic noted. They’d decided on a previous visit that the cellar window would provide the easiest method of entry. The iron shield had already begun to come loose from the stone, and Querry had pried it the rest of the way before replacing it. The area beyond was used for some kind of mechanical work, probably relating to the clock tower project. The other side of the lower level housed the servant’s quarters. At this time of night, most of them would be in bed. Querry doubted they’d disturb anyone on their way to the study. No one would believe him bold enough to make such a brash attempt. The irony made him chuckle, but it led to a brief spell of coughing.

Patting Querry’s back, Frolic said, “It’ll never do if that starts up while we’re inside. We should have asked Reg for some of those herbal lozenges.”

“Well, we’ll have to soldier on without them.”

“Reg said it brought back memories, taking care of you when you had your fever. I asked him about it, but he wouldn’t say anything else.”

“It wasn’t a good time for us, Frolic. There’s plenty he probably wants to forget. It was harder on him than me.”

“Why?”

“I was a city boy. Grew up on the streets, part of a gang of pickpockets. I knew how to take care of myself. And I was used to the grime and pollution. Reg was born on a farm. Fever took his parents, and he went to work for some relatives. Basically he got shuttled back and forth to wherever somebody needed an extra pair of hands. I think he was lonely and overworked, but at least he had the fresh air.”

“Then what happened?”

Querry shrugged. “He ran out of people willing to feed him, I suppose. Got shipped off to the workhouse.”

“Querry, why are people so cruel to each other?”

“I wish I knew, my beauty.”

“I wish the world could be as beautiful as the clockwork menagerie.”

“It isn’t real,” Querry said.

They stood in quiet contemplation for another hour while the study light burned steadily, waiting for the master of the house to depart to a masque or dinner party, as he did every evening. Then, finally, the room went dark, just as an elegant coach drawn by two black horses reached the front entrance. An aging butler opened the door, and Lord Thimbleroy appeared in a slate-blue suit and top hat, pulling on a pair of white gloves. A footman hurried to help him into the carriage.

“I think we’re set to go,” Querry said. Since rappelling down the side of the building could attract more attention than sneaking through, Querry and Frolic crept past the alcoves, statues and pews. They hurried across to the Thimbleroy property, and hid themselves behind a holly bush until the single guard made his rounds. Then Querry quickly displaced the screen, cut the glass around the window frame, and motioned for Frolic to go inside. After he joined Frolic, he reached up and replaced the screen so that nothing would look amiss.

They found themselves in a cavernous space with vaulted ceilings and stone columns holding them up. Switching to night vision, Querry jumped when he saw what looked like a dozen men standing in a line near the other end of the cellar. Quickly, though, he realized they kept too still and quiet to be living people.

“Who are they?” Frolic whispered.

Querry raised a hand to shush him and then motioned him to follow. Slowly, one hand resting on the grip of his new pistol, he slipped from one column to the next until he reached the cluster of bodies. Behind him, Frolic inhaled sharply. Querry felt for his hand and gave it a squeeze, hoping to steel him against the disturbing sight.

They were dolls, dolls like Frolic, but made without any attempt at aesthetic pleasance. Their metal skeletons were pitted steel, with holes drilled through to reduce the weight. Empty air sacs hung beyond their ribs. They possessed no hearts, but instead small gas burners fed from tanks welded to their backs. Their gears were large, clunky, and too few, according to what Querry had learned of Frolic’s construction. They would move in an unnatural, jerky way. Large, greasy engines waited quietly on their backs. Worst of all, their faces bore no semblances of humanity. Large bolts held jaws filled with square, metal teeth. Milky orbs stared out from rusty sockets. Creeping closer, Querry reached out a trembling hand to touch one of the hideous abominations, but Frolic caught his wrist.

From nowhere, the air sacs inflated with a noise like gears needing oiled. With a creak the metal mouth opened and closed, chomping at the air in what Querry prayed wasn’t an attempt at speech. The hands spasmed and shook like a sot in need of his gin, and the eyes rolled back. Then with a rush the lungs emptied, the air producing a sickly rattle as it passed the throat and teeth. Finally the thing went still, lowering its head. Frolic whimpered and slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Why?” he hissed through his fingers.

“I think I know,” Querry said, recalling his companion’s prowess in a fight, as well as Dink’s account. “An army.”

“But for what?” Frolic shook his head very fast, and his grip almost crushed Querry’s fingers.

“To go against the faeries would be my first guess. But—” He stopped himself, not wanting to frighten Frolic.
But to bring these things to life, to imbue them with
thought and feeling….

BOOK: Boots for the Gentleman
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