A Clockwork Heart (25 page)

“The Clockmaker?” Elle felt a cold shiver of apprehension move through her.

“But we digress. Would you like to see your husband's heart now?” She ran her pale hand along the row of jars. Elle noticed that each jar had a number on a little brass tag that around the top.

Clothilde stopped in front of one of the rows and studied the tags. “Ah, here he is. Number 493.” She peered at the heart, which was a strange shade of purple in the blue light. To Elle's dismay, she noticed that Marsh's heart beat ever so slightly quicker when Clothilde rested her hand against the glass.

“You mean to bring war and destruction to this world,” Loisa said. “And we cannot allow it.”

Clothilde arched one of her finely curved eyebrows at Loisa. “Oh, and your kind has not preyed on the living for centuries? You may dress and act civilized, but for more centuries than anyone cares to remember, your kind treated the Realm of Light as nothing more than a feeding ground. So I would be slow to criticize if I were you, Nightwalker.”

Loisa hissed and bared her fangs.

Clothilde just laughed. “Don't forget that you are still within my power. One flick of my wrist and your head rolls over the floor.”

“I would like to see you try,” Loisa growled.

“Ah, she shows her true nature,” Clothilde said. “You are lucky that I need you alive for the experiments I am planning. Having Nightwalkers in the ranks is going to be an exciting addition to the armies. But we can have a little duel of wills before we proceed, if that would make you happy.”

Loisa sprang toward the bars of the cage with such force that the entire structure wobbled.

Clothilde turned away from her to the elaborately fitted out operating table that took pride of place in the center of the laboratory as if Loisa's anger was insignificant.

Suddenly, they heard a loud thump, like metal hitting stone. Clothilde's expression froze as she was suddenly engulfed in a shroud of blue spark. Before anyone could say anything, she sank to her knees and vaporized before their very eyes.

“What on earth?” Elle said as Neville holding the spark-blaster at the ready stepped forward.

“Ah, Neville old chap. Right on time as expected. That was a jolly good shot. Would have been a six if you were on the Oval,” the professor said.

Neville grinned from ear to ear at the compliment.

“Look out!” Loisa said, for the four undead soldiers grunted and came at Neville in a sudden rush. Neville blasted them with the spark blaster, which knocked them to the floor.

“Stand back!” Loisa shouted. She kicked the door of the cage with such force that the lock cracked and the door sprung open.

“Well, that wasn't much of a difficulty then,” the professor said examining the lock.

“Clearly not,” Elle said drily. “And neither was the Lady in White, by the looks of things. Let's herd those guards into the cage. Quickly. I'll see if I can find something to secure the gate.”

“Shall I bring his lordship in now?” Neville asked as soon they had secured the gate with an old chain and a padlock they had found in one of the cupboards.

“Without delay, my dear man. Without delay,” the doctor said.

Neville whistled and Caruthers appeared at the door with Marsh. They had loosed his feet from the canvas and somehow he had managed to walk Marsh here. Marsh moaned. It was a terrible sound that emanated from the back of his throat as soon as he saw the other undead.

“Neville, you stay and guard the entrance while my father and the doctor get to work. Vanquishing Madame Blanche seemed a little bit too easy to be believed. No offense meant, of course,” Elle said.

“None taken, my lady,” Neville said. “But this thing seems to work really well on those undead.” He shifted the spark blaster to a more comfortable position. “Well, see if you can refill the canister. Heavens knows, there is enough spark around here for that.”

“I don't trust the silence either,” Loisa said. “We had better go and make sure she is really dead.”

“Lead the way, Loisa,” Elle said. She picked up a shifting spanner the length of her arm off one of the shelves and lifted it over her shoulder. “Besides, the evil old hag stole my Colt too. And I want it back along with my husband and my life before we go home this evening.”

CHAPTER 34

“How many did you fight while you were on the stairs, Loisa?” Elle asked as they crept along the narrow passageway that led back to the main hall.

“Oh, I think about a dozen or so. The problem is that they won't stay down. You have to break their legs so they can't come after you.” She made a face. “Also they taste really awful if you bite them.”

“Let's hope I never have the need to have to sample them,” Elle said, grateful for the fact that she was not a Nightwalker.

The soft sound of rustling caught their attention.

“What was that?” Elle whispered.

Up ahead of them in the passageway something was shuffling around in the dark.

Quietly as they could, Elle and Loisa crept up to the doorway to see what it was.

“Who's there?” Elle switched on her spark lamp and a beam of light revealed a small man in a gray robe.

“P–please don't hurt me,” he muttered lifting his hands before his face to ward of the blinding light of the lamp.

“An electromancer!” Loisa said.

“Where are the rest of your brothers?” Elle said.

“We hide in the tunnels below the building. She hasn't found those yet,” he said.

“Well, we've come to liberate you,” Elle said.

The electromancer's face lit up but fell again. “You won't get past the lady. And if she gets angry, you end up being food for the troops.”

Elle shuddered at the mental image of Marsh gorging on fresh liver, but pushed the thought firmly from her mind. “Well, the lady is gone for the moment, so I would suggest you get your people out of here as quickly as you can,” Elle said, “in case there is more trouble.”

The little man nodded and gripped her hand. “Thank you ever so much!” He opened a small hatch in the floor and disappeared into it.

“Well, that solves one of the mysteries,” Loisa said.

“Indeed it does,” Elle said. “I think those are the stairs to the control room up ahead.” The control room seemed like as good a place as any to look, she thought as they walked along. Around them, the building echoed and creaked eerily like a giant ghost ship.

Elle was not wrong, for a sudden screeching, wailing noise met them halfway up the stairs.

“Head for open ground!” Loisa said to Elle and they turned and ran down the stairs.

A white cloud of mist boiled out of the stairwell behind them as they burst into the turbine hall and great big flashes of lightning flashed in the sky above them.

“I cannot be vanquished with spark, you stupid fools. I am the very element that spark is made of!” Clothilde yowled. She rose up before them in a vast cloud of roiling mist that gradually diminished, leaving the elemental standing before them. “I was foolish to allow you mercy before.” She was seething with anger.

“I bet you she's cross because you maimed some of her soldiers,” Elle said to Loisa.

“Livid, it seems,” Loisa replied.

“Those soldiers were part of a shipment that you have now ruined!” Clothilde said. “The time for playing games is over. You must die without delay.” She lifted her arms and rose up above them, ready to strike the deathblow.

As that moment, bright light of search lights flooded through the glass roof of the turbine hall. Elle looked up and her eyes widened with surprise. Above her, the hull of a giant airship loomed from the darkness. It was hovering so low that its bottom almost touched the glass panes of the roof.

Clothilde started laughing hysterically. “Such brilliant timing! They are here. Vargo, start preparing the soldiers to embark! Find whoever you can to make up the hundred. Do not leave the Consortium waiting. I will see to these,” she said motioning toward Elle.

Vargo and two other men appeared from the doorway to the stairwell behind Clothilde. They were the same men from the park, Elle realized with a shudder.

“I said move!” Clothilde bellowed.

“Yes, mistress,” Vargo stared at Clothilde as if she had gone completely mad, which was, it seemed, a conclusion that did not require a huge amount of deductive reasoning. But he shrugged and strode off into the distance.

“Where are you taking those people?” Elle demanded.

“They are a special order for the Emperor of Japan, if you must know. And he will be very pleased with his consignment,” Clothilde said rather smugly.

“She really loves the sound of her own voice, doesn't she?” Elle said out the side of her mouth to Loisa.

Loisa snickered in reply.

“I will not abide such insolence. Neither you, nor or anyone else is going to stop me,” Clothilde said.

Elle shook her head. “Did you know, your voice is becoming shriller by the moment? You are liable to start shattering glass soon if you don't watch out.”

“Don't you shake your head at me,
Oracle!
” The final pitch of her voice was like nails dragging on a chalkboard and despite their best efforts, Elle and Loisa both flinched.

At that very moment, there was a terrible rumble and a crash. The dirigible hull above them shifted sideways and tapped the panes. Great cracks appeared in the glass and spread across the roof like spider webs. There was one loud crack and then the air filled with sounds of shattering glass. Great deadly shards started falling to the ground.

Clothilde screamed. Great bolts of lightning flashed and started hitting the ground all around them.

“Loisa run! Get out!” Elle covered her face with her hands and made for the door. The bits of glass slashed at her right though the hide of her sturdy leather coat. She felt the skin of her arms and scalp slice a few times before Loisa grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and shoved her through the open doors.

Outside the monastery, Elle skidded to a halt. Before them a state of utter chaos reigned.

The undead were running about lashing out at anything and everything. Around them groups of people, armed with a startling array of home-made armor that ranged from frying pans to sheets of corrugated iron, were trying to round up the herds of undead. It looked more like a giant game of tag at a village fete than a battle to the death.

“Where did all these people come from?” Elle looked at Loisa in amazement.

Loisa shrugged, but before she could say anything, she was interrupted by someone shouting and running at them at full speed.

It was Jasper. He was covered in grime and his clothes were tattered, but he was alive and at that moment, he was waving his arms frantically while shouting, “Take cover!”

The sound of wood splitting and the groan of distressed metal rose up from the general pandemonium around them. It was a terrible sound that Elle had heard only once before—they were the sounds of an airship dying.

Elle spun round in the direction of the noise and stared, transfixed with terror. Two dirigibles, locked together like beasts at each other's throats were hovering just above the roof of the monastery. The tether ropes of the bigger ship had become entangled in the roofing. As if suspended in water, the two vessels slowly tilted sideways and crashed to the ground, taking most of the monastery roof with them. The patch of land that was immediately to the east side of the monastery was suddenly filled with billowing canvas as the impact of the crash made the ground shudder.

Splinters of wood, the size of a man's forearm along with other debris flew through the helium-laced air, piercing everything in their path.

“Get down!” Elle shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the general din of the crash.

A few people, undead or not, were knocked to the ground by bits of flying plank and Elle watched in horror as one of the undead was skewered by a piece of metal and pinned to the ground. He continued to move, his arms and legs flailing pitifully.

“Look out!” Loisa cried. Her voice was comically high from the helium in the air. A large chunk of metal came hurling toward Elle. She grabbed onto Loisa and they sidestepped the missile which rolled to a stop before their feet. Elle peered at the hunk of metal in amazement. It was the head of a fierce-looking bird.

“Oh my goodness, that's the
Phoenix
. Ducky!” They both turned to the mangled wreckage in horror and dismay.

As they watched the settling mass of wrecked ship, a few planks shot in the opposite direction, as if someone had kicked them away from the inside. From the wreckage, two men stumbled. One was dragging the other in a makeshift fireman's hold.

“This way! Over here!” Elle called to them. To her amazement, she realized that it was Captain Dashwood, carrying Ducky.

With much care, Dashwood lay Ducky down on the ground. “There you go, old fella,” he said. “He got hit by a falling beam. Knocked him out cold,” he said.

Ducky groaned and opened his eyes.

Elle crouched beside him and rested her hand on his forehead. “Ducky? Can you hear me?” she said.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sorry about the ship, Bells. Made a bit of a mess of the landing.”

“Oh Ducky,” Elle said with a sob of relief.

“He'll be fine,” Dashwood said.

“How did you get here?” Elle blurted.

“Ducky asked me to co-pilot for him. The
Phoenix
needs two pilots, remember,” He looked at her. “And you, lady, owe me a ship.”

“Rally! Rally! Come on, ladies, secure those stragglers!” someone shouted through a loudspeaker behind them. “Left flank! Suffragette unit! Send in the medics and get someone to look for survivors on those ships!”

Elle put her hand before her mouth in amazement as they turned their attention to the spectacle that was playing out before them. Loisa's cab, which at that moment was being driven forward ever so slowly by a rather flustered-looking Caruthers, came into view. On top of the cab, Mrs. Hinges stood with a loudspeaker before her face. She was directing the crowd of people before like an army general.

“To the left. To the left! They are escaping!” Mrs. Hinges waved her arms directing the troops.

“Jasper!” Loisa said catching Mr. Sidgwick by the scruff of the neck. “How on earth did you get here?”

“They jumped me in my rooms, and the next thing I knew I was in a cell, ready for processing into one of those things. But something must have gone wrong, because they never got round to me. Good evening.” He rubbed the little patch on the back of his head which was starting to thin and nodded at Dashwood. “The monks were whispering about someone who had come to save them and I thought to myself that it had to be you two. So I lifted a key off one of the minders and opened the cells.”

“Bravo, Jasper!” Loisa said. Jasper beamed back at her.

Someone had switched on the monastery's outside lights and they beamed across the open space on with blinding intensity. Elle peered through the spark-light illuminated half-dark. People from all walks of life loomed out of the dark. Some were servants, dressed in uniform as if they had abandoned dinner to come here. Others were wearing green and purple sashes over their dresses.

A woman ran up to them. “Elle! Thank goodness you made it out of the building.” It was Christabel Pankhurst and she had a streak of mud on her cheek.

“What on earth are
you
doing here?” Elle asked, forgetting her manners in amazement.

Christabel winked at her. “Mrs. Hinges told the lady's maid of one of the Mandevilles, who in turn told their mistress, who told me. You didn't think we'd let you try to save London all on your own, now did you?”

“I suppose not,” Elle said.

Christabel smiled. “The Mandevilles are manning the medic and refreshment station that has been set up in the park.”

Mrs. Hinges made Caruthers sound the cab horn through her loudspeaker, signaling to the troops to change maneuvers.

“The electromancers! The electromancers are revolting! Join us, brothers!” someone shouted.

True enough, the little monks started pouring from the building. They were linking arms in a line that effectively flanked the undead, herding them in to a group and preventing them from re-entering the monastery.

“About my ship,” Dashwood said.

“Christabel,” Elle said, ignoring the captain. “This is Captain Logan Dashwood. He is most interested in the ladies” cause and would like to join in the fight for the vote. He told me just the other day that he would love to discuss the issues in detail. Perhaps you could take him under your wing, as it were.”

“How do you do,” Christabel said as she took in the handsome captain. She ran her hands over her hair to make sure her fashionable Gibson girl knot was still in place.

Dashwood blanched and gave Elle a horrified look. Ducky started laughing.

“Well then, let's get this wounded fellow to the medic tent. He looks like he could do with a bit of a patch-up. I see my squadron of ladies is faltering without me and we need to round up as many of these tickers as we can so they can be restored to health. There is no time to waste. I'm sure we can have a lovely long talk about all this later. Come along then. Chop chop,” she ordered the captain. Between them, they lifted Ducky and headed off toward the park.

The last Elle saw of Dashwood was his pleading look for help, as Christabel led him into the squadron of suffragettes.

“We need more light!” Mrs. Hinges bellowed.

To her left, Elle caught sight of flashes of yellow that were almost as bright as sunlight.

At least a dozen fairies of various descriptions were blasting shafts of their light into the undead, illuminating the whole area. From the corner of her eye, Elle could have sworn she saw a flash of green light, which could only have been Adele, but she wasn't sure and there was no time to check. Clearly the travelling folk and the patrons from the Black Stag had somehow also decided to join in the fight and Elle caught a glimpse of Emilian's peacock feather bobbing through the crowd as he sprinted toward the fairies.

The undead seemed utterly disorientated by all the activity and started huddling together in a big herd in the middle of the open ground in front of the monastery.