Brotherhood of the Strange (Kingship, Tales from the Aether Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter XXV

To say the morning had not gone well for Degory Priest would have been an understatement. He had been pulled from his office turned guest room just after dawn by Edward’s usual thugs. Roughly, he was marched down the halls of Bethlem asylum, wearing only his nightshirt and dressing gown. His feet were bare, and they slapped loudly on the cold, hard floor as he was half pushed, half dragged down to his original cell. His father’s cell. His father, who had lost what little sanity was left as Degory helplessly watched, so many years ago. It was a fate that terrified the brilliant scientist, one his brother knew all too well, and one he seemed keen to once again capitalize upon.

After being tied to a chair, Degory had been left to his own devices. During that time, he considered every possible reason regarding the abrupt change in his treatment. The past two days he had spent working much more closely with Edward than he would have preferred, attempting to not only decipher, but interpret the ancient glyphs on the Disk of Phaistos. He tried to stall as best he could, not wanting to give the insanity known as the Hand of Paris another arrow in their apocalyptic quiver. At the same time, he needed to at least appear diligent in his efforts, for Cordelia’s sake. Edward made it abundantly clear her life was contingent upon his cooperation. It was a line he had attempted to walk before and he was afraid he had again failed. In truth, stalling had been a fairly simple ruse, as the Disk of Phaistos did not yield its secrets very easily. Edward knew that all too well, or he would not have been so desperate as to sacrifice his own daughter, for his younger brother’s aid in unraveling the arcane mystery.

As he sat there, Degory’s thoughts were drawn back to the Kingship. Most likely, it was on its way to some secret stronghold of the Hand of Paris by now, the crew gruesomely murdered, and his terrified niece on her way to his location. Her presence would probably be used as a tactic to keep him in check. Edward would have the equipment installed and Grigori would find the Temporal Accelerator. With it, Maxfield and Pandora’s Box, which would again be unleashed upon an unprepared world.

Degory cursed his own hubris. How could he, one man, think he could stop an organization that had usurped control of the most powerful secret society in the world? People had undoubtedly died because of his arrogance, and if he didn’t figure a way out of his captivity soon, many more certainly would as well. None of this, however, explained why his treatment had changed so abruptly. Time passed slowly in that cell, and it wasn’t until the room was growing dark that Edward came to see him. His brother entered hastily, dressed to travel, a bowler hat under one arm and his sword cane in the other.

“Good-bye, Degory,” he said simply.

“Edward,” he replied. “I don’t suppose you would care to explain this? I have been nothing but cooperative these past few days. Isn’t that what you have wanted from the start?”

Edward looked down at his feet. “It’s out of my hands now, Degory. I’m sorry.”

“Regret?” Degory scoffed. “I didn’t believe you were capable of such human emotions anymore.”

Edward straightened up, looking at his younger brother with a hard gaze. “I am sorry. I’m sorry you proved to be unworthy of the greatness that is to come. We could have stood shoulder to shoulder as brothers on the right hand of Lord Maxfield. But you would not believe, you would not see the truth. No earthly force will be able to contend with the rule of law that is forthcoming, Degory. The world will at last know peace. I’m sorry you cannot see that.”

“I keep hearing the word peace out of your mouth, and so far, I’ve seen anything but. Do you think parroting the words of your superiors long enough will allow you to believe them as well? You’re right about one thing, though. I don’t really give a damn about this cult you’ve joined. I care about my niece, which is more than you can say. Where is she, Edward?”

“I imagine she is still on board the Kingship,” he answered.

“And where is the Kingship?” Degory asked, afraid of the answer.

“About a hundred miles off the east coast of England, at the moment. We’re keeping our distance till we’re ready to try again.”

“They gave you the slip?” Degory asked with a mocking smile. It was the first good news he had heard in days.

Shrugging, Edward replied, “This time, perhaps. Although, it was a very successful field test of the Necro-Automata, and we’ve had our faith confirmed that Lazarus was well worth our efforts.”

“What makes you say that if they failed to capture the Kingship?’

“The incursion was closely monitored, and we gained a lot of useful information regarding improvements necessary for full scale production. True, we underestimated the Kingship’s motley crew, but having them find their weakness actually saved us a lot of time. It wasn’t a failure, Brother, it was research. We won’t fail again.”

Degory’s momentary hope evaporated. Arrogant as he was, Edward was probably right. Eventually, they would wear the crew down and the Kingship would be theirs.

“It still doesn’t explain why I’m tied to a chair in Father’s cell, Edward.”

“As I said, it is now out of my hands, Brother. I’m leaving to oversee Lazarus production on the Mercury. You are in your present, unfortunate circumstances at the behest of Grigori Rasputin. He is here, and he wishes to interrogate you personally. Despite our differences, it is not a fate I would wish upon anyone, much less my own brother.”

“And I see you will do nothing to stop it,” Degory said acidly. It was not a question.

“It is not within my power to do so, Degory. Nor would I, even if it were. The technology onboard the Kingship is the key to finding Lord Maxfield, and though I’m confident the ship will be in our possession soon, he is not taking any chances. He wants your time machine, and he has grown weary of your delays.”

“I won’t cooperate.”

Edward leaned in close to Degory and whispered, “You won’t have a choice.” He stood back up, and said with quiet calm, “You’re about to go through hell, my brother, and there’s nothing I can do to stop that. But here, I thought you might at least enjoy your pocket watch. I know how fond you are of always knowing the time.” He looped it around the doorknob by its chain. “Maybe it will help.” He donned his bowler hat and gazed intently at Degory, “Good-bye, Degory. I do not believe we shall see each other again.”

Degory silently watched him leave. The cold, dark cell seemed even more forbidding than it had a few minutes ago. Degory considered himself courageous, but hardly a hero. For the first time since his abduction, he was truly afraid. There were fears he had dealt with since he began this quest, but they had mostly been for Cordelia, or his inability to stop Maxfield. Now his concerns were of a more primal and personal nature. His dealings with Grigori had been limited, and he had been unnerved by the fanatical Russian even when his loyalty had not been in question. What mystical horrors the man known as the Mad Monk would visit upon his person, Degory couldn’t even guess. Would he delve into madness like every single other member of his family, or would he find the strength to endure?

He sat there alone with his growing fears for almost an hour, according to his father’s hanging watch. Eventually, he heard faint footsteps approaching. They were unhurried, measured even, and they slowly drew closer. A faint, flickering light appeared beneath his doorway and the footsteps ceased. Slowly, the metal door opened, his father’s watch banging lightly against it. A familiar and frightening figure stood at the threshold, carrying a burning oil lamp. Grigori looked exactly the way he did every time Degory had seen him. The man’s wild beard and greasy, unkempt hair spilled clumsily over his black Russian monk’s robe. Ancient rings bearing inscriptions in long dead languages adorned each of his fingers. Despite the illumination of the lantern, the room seemed to grow darker with his presence. His deep set eyes were hard and piercing. Shining in the flickering lamplight they showed a deep intelligence overridden by the unwavering faith of a zealot. He looked at Degory for several minutes but said nothing, and the otherwise confident scientist found it difficult to meet the Mad Monk’s burning gaze for long.

Finally, after Degory had almost gotten used to this macabre statue’s stare, he moved. Tracing his free hand over Degory’s body, the Russian mystic muttered what seemed to be some sort of ancient Latin prayer. He stopped at Degory’s clockwork arm, looking at it intently, and gave him a fervent, though inscrutable smile.

“Degory Priest,” he said with a thick, Russian accent. “We have so much to talk about.”

Here ends book one of
Kingship, Tales from the Aether
.

Book two,
The Mad Monk
, will delve further into the dark plans

of the Hand of Paris, as Captain Vance Williams tries to

outwit and outmaneuver his enemies, rescue Degory Priest,

and keep his crew alive!

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The Brotherhood of the Strange.
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© 2014 by Michael Richie and Grant Wilson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or transmit in any form or by any means. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and locales are fictitious or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, is coincidental. The Grant and Mike logo is a Trademark of Grant and Mike LLC. For information regarding subsidiary rights, contact the authors.