Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1) (13 page)

The operator filled the remaining seats in the connected cars. With a signal to the ticket taker and the man Katya could not see who ran the switches, the cars jerked forward. This time, Katya and Maddox both reached for the metal grab bar in front of them. A mechanism in the track pulled the train of cars up the initial slope. The passengers behind Katya and Maddox murmured with apprehension and breathed audibly, awaiting the first of many drops.

The train rose steadily, taking its passengers up to a short plateau. Within seconds, the cars slid down, lifting Katya’s stomach into the top of her chest. She let out a shriek amidst the screams and shouts behind her. The train twisted to the left, curving to parallel the outer fence of the carnival. It rose a short distance and fell again, racing its passengers lower toward the ground. A second mechanism pulled the cars even higher than before.

In one graceful motion, the cars slipped down the next slope of track, curving away from the back of the grounds. They dipped down beside the side stage, where Katya could not tell what contest was taking place. The cars sped along, turning left only to bend back to the right. The track led them down beneath the iron structure and returned them safely to the platform.

Katya barely had time to catch her breath before the ride operator unbuckled her belt. She walked with Maddox to the exit gate, where a small wooden sign bore the words
Thank You
in painted, curling letters.

Katya leaned against Maddox for support, her equilibrium struggling to right itself even though her heart soared with excitement. “Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s try something a little less intense.” Maddox wrapped his arm around Katya, propping her up as they walked deeper into the carnival.

“What do you suggest?”

Maddox nodded to the attraction they were headed towards. The great Warden wheel turned slowly against the sky, the stars twinkling in competition with the lamplights of the city beyond the carnival fence.

“We get three turns around the wheel, too,” Katya said.

“How tall’s the wheel?”

“Twice the tower. One hundred feet. You’re supposed to be able to see the whole city from the top.”

“From the top? About halfway up, I’d think.”

“We’re about to find out.”

Katya and Maddox walked up to the ticket taker. “We’re here to ride the wheel for Mr. Warden,” Maddox said. “Routine quality control.”

The ticket taker eyed him as he accepted another pair of tickets from a couple of guests. “That’s hardly routine.”

“It’s a new routine,” Katya informed him.

“Why are you two doing it?”

Maddox leaned closer. “Do you have boating experience, sir? On the ocean?”

“In the middle of this state?” The ticket taker snorted. “No.”

“Well, I do, and the motion of the rides should be as smooth as a relaxing boat ride on even water. I’m more than qualified to judge.”

The ticket taker turned his sharp grey eyes on Katya.

“How can I be expected to tell the guests what it’s like if I don’t ride it?” she asked. “Mr. Warden knows what he’s doing and knows what he wants. If you’re going to take up a car with Mr. O’Sullivan, you might as well send me up, too.”

The ticket taker grunted. “Fine. Go on through.” Under his breath, he said, “If I catch any trouble for this, it’s on your heads.”

Katya refused to drop her ruse. “We’ll see who gets in trouble for doing their job.”

Maddox guided Katya through the low iron gate to the base of the wheel. The operator on the platform let a young, well-dressed couple off the lowest car in front of him. He motioned Katya and Maddox to step up to replace them. Heinz swiftly buckled them in, and with a brief hand signal, the wheel rotated them slowly into the air.

Katya was accustomed to riding backwards in carriages but not backwards as well as upward. She balanced the strange sensation by looking out over the familiar sights of the carnival. Maddox tapped the back of her hand, and Katya turned her attention the other way.

The southern neighborhoods of the city stretched out beneath them in a maze of streets and houses. Plotted among them, slightly larger, spread a boxy school, a rising church, and a sprawling park. The higher Katya turned on the wheel, the more of the city presented itself. Shadows darkened and muffled most of it, making it hazy. Katya squinted to make out the taller buildings amongst the lower-lying landscape: the towers flanking the edifice of St. John’s Church and the broad, impressive swath of the English Hotel and Opera House.

The wheel stopped every so often to let old patrons off and new guests on. They mostly sat quietly, but if they had been screaming their lungs out, Katya would not have noticed. She stared out over the city, its many lampposts like a vast network of earthbound stars. The wheel began to let Katya down very slowly, and even when she could not see for miles, the magic vibrated in her body.

She turned her attention to Maddox, whose persistence was the only reason she had experienced the carnival from the other side. He had gotten his date, and Katya had learned the true meaning of the carnival deep into her bones.

Maddox spoke first. “I admit it,” he said.

“What?”

“I did hear things about you, about your reputation when I started here.”

Katya had nowhere to hide. Even as their car neared the ground and stopped there to let a couple disembark, there was nothing to shield her from Maddox. “Is that why you asked me about Mr. Davies?”

“No. I just wanted to know if you liked him.” Maddox fell silent as they glided past Heinz on another round of the wheel’s gradual course. “I didn’t want you to think that was the reason I was talking to you. It has nothing to do with that.”

“Not even a little?” Katya teased him, hoping to cover up her embarrassment.

“Not really. How reliable are rumors like that, anyway? Do you think I’m going to believe a bunch of filthy-faced men who never saw anything for themselves?”

“What, exactly, were the rumors about?”

“You and... someone else.”

“Mr. Warden?”

“Maybe.”

Katya folded her hands in her lap. “I’ve done a lot of forward things in my life but never anything that stupid before. I didn’t think it through. I panicked because I wanted to work at the carnival more than anything else, and he said there wasn’t a job for me. I moved here by train to work at the carnival.”

Katya paused, but Maddox continued to watch her, listening. “I asked him if he had anyone to care for his guests, anyone to answer their questions and guide them around. He said he didn’t. I said I was obviously a talker and I’d be more than happy to serve them.”

Katya pictured the same scene she had tumbled over in her head since it happened, but now she saw it for what it was: ill advised and reckless. She summarized it modestly. “We did have a romantic moment, you might call it, and I got the job. I’m not proud of it. Maybe I was for a while, but I didn’t realize how truly scheming Mr. Warden is. I may have gotten what I wanted, but he always gets what he wants, too.”

Katya waited for Maddox to answer. The silence made her worry he thought the worst of her. The car rocked gently as it stopped, and Katya spoke up again. “Mr. Warden must’ve told Mr. Lieber, and Mr. Lieber probably told some of the other security. I’m sure it was only a matter of time until it reached most of the men who work here.”

The car rose into motion once more.

Maddox laid his hand over Katya’s. “I don’t care. I didn’t care when I heard the rumors, and I don’t care now. Mr. Warden might have all the power at the carnival, but you have the most passion for it. You glow. You don’t walk here. You float. You know so much, and I know so little.”

“That can’t be true. You’ve lived in places I’ve only heard of and probably places I haven’t. If you’re good enough to fix the rides, you know more than you give yourself credit for.”

Maddox’s eyes sparkled. “If you lived on the coast, Miss Romanova, you’d be the kind of woman men name their boats after.”

The compliment warmed Katya from the inside, imagining him working on the beaches of the ocean. “What was it like on the coast?”

Maddox shrugged. “Fresh ocean air. Smell of fresh and rotting fish.”

“Did you take a lot of relaxing boat rides out there?”

A sly smirk stole across Maddox’s lips. “That was a lie to get us on board. There’s a lot to be done during fishing season, even on the shore. I came to America in a boat, although I barely remember it. I guess I’ve had my share of them.”

Katya hesitated in case her inquiry was too personal. “Your accent,” she mentioned. “It’s Irish but softer.”

Maddox paused, his roguishness easing into appreciation and honest pleasure. “My mother was born in England. My father met her when he moved there after the famine in Ireland. He always meant to come here, but he didn’t think he’d have a wife and kid with him when he came over. If I don’t sound exactly like him, it’s because I grew up listening to her.”

Katya searched Maddox’s smooth features, finding evidence of his family’s journeys and hardships. The same twinkle of determination glowing in his eyes might have fueled his father’s moves across two water-separated borders. Despite Maddox’s youth and high spirits, his eyes studied her with worldly observation. He set his jaw firmly for whatever came his way. Katya realized how much she wanted to hear him compliment her again. “Would you name a boat after me, Mr. O’Sullivan?”

“I would buy a boat to name it after you.”

The car carried Katya and Maddox up over the top of the wheel. It stopped with the southern neighborhoods laid out far beneath them. Katya leaned over and kissed him. The back of the car stood high enough to block the view from the couple riding behind them. They loomed too high above the ground for Heinz to see.

Maddox set his bare hand against Katya’s neck. Any fear she had suffered that Maddox would rebuff her fell away. His mouth felt natural against hers. His breath tasted like the stinging spice of strong liquor, the smooth coolness of cigarettes, and the warm saltiness of popped corn. The brims of their hats bumped against one other as they bent closer together in the middle of the car.

Katya did not want the moment to end, hanging eighty to ninety feet in the air with Maddox’s arms pressing reassuringly around her. As the wheel lowered them toward the rest of the world, she pulled away and simply gazed back at him, her golden-gloved hand holding his face. She lowered it into her lap before the car glided past Heinz and the line of customers waiting beyond the short fence.

Neither of them spoke until the wheel had returned them to the greatest heights of its structure.

“Do I have permission to see you again?” Maddox asked, his voice warmed by hope.

“Yes, Mr. O’Sullivan, you do.”

“May I call on you at home and talk to you properly?”

Katya hesitated. Lizzie was famous for hiding around corners and listening in on any conversation held in the shared rooms of the house. Katya decided she would rather brave Lizzie’s sharp ears and big mouth than let Maddox think she was too ashamed to invite him there. “Yes. I have a room at the Weekly Boarder on Plum Street.”

“Where’s that?”

“West of the river and the center of town. There’s a streetcar route not far from there.”

Maddox squeezed her hand. “I’ll find you.”

The wheel lowered the car on its third and last revolution of their ride. Katya tried to fit in her final thoughts. “One of my housemates may try to steal you away.”

Maddox burst out with guffaws.

“I’m serious. She’s already taken one man from me, although according to your doctrine of fun, he wasn’t the greatest catch a woman could have.”

Maddox scrunched his nose up in sympathy. “One of those stuffy lawyers?”

“A stuffy doctor, but who else can afford to take their dates to the restaurant at Bates House? They say President Lincoln stayed there once.”

“Is that what you want? An expensive dinner?”

Katya relaxed beside him. “No. I think tea or coffee with you would be just fine.”

Maddox kissed Katya gently, and the wheel turned until their car rested above the platform. Heinz unbuckled them, and they walked out of the Warden wheel’s fenced area.

Maddox lingered close to her side. “What do you want to do next?” he asked.

Katya straightened her hat and tried to force her smile to a more professional brightness. “I think we’ve done more than enough for one night. I don’t know that I could survive any more fun today.”

“You don’t want to try the Kaleidoscope?”

“No.”

“Until I call on you, then.” Maddox bent over in a surprisingly graceful, steady bow, lifting his hat off his head in perfect timing.

Katya pulled her shoulders back into a more proper posture. “Yes, until then.”

Katya touched Maddox’s hand briefly as he straightened up and put his hat back on. It tore her heart to walk away when she was just beginning to like him, but they had returned to the ground. The earth followed different rules than the air.

Katya hurried down the steps of the Weekly Boarder into the basement. She steered into the kitchen, almost colliding with Magdalene on the way in. “Is the curling iron ready?”

Mrs. Weeks stood at the stove. She lifted the curling iron away from the fire of the gas burner. “Maybe another minute or two. It hasn’t been on long.” Mrs. Weeks replaced it over the burner.

Katya heard a gentle splashing sound and found Mary cleaning a corner of the floor. “Did something spill?” Katya asked.

Mary glanced over her shoulder. “I dropped a jar of jam, and it broke.”

Mrs. Weeks faced Katya and Magdalene directly. She set a loose fist on her hip. “Why in such a hurry today, Katya? Do you have a date?”

“No, but my curls are falling out, and I want to look my best for work.” Katya unbraided her long, dark hair. She was determined not to mention a word about Maddox to anyone except Magdalene until he showed up at the house for tea.

Magdalene spoke up for the first time since Katya arrived in the room, barely raising her eyes from their thoughtful place on the stove. “No one’s going to outshine you, Kat.”

Katya did not doubt the genuineness of the compliment, but she caught the serious, preoccupied undertone of Magdalene’s words. Katya kept to the subject at hand. “Isolde Neumann shows me up every night,” she grumbled.

Mrs. Weeks turned back to the stove. “Who’s that?”

“Mr. Warden’s rich girlfriend. Her father owns an ornament factory.”

“They’re getting so popular these days. When I was a girl, everyone made their own decorations with whatever we could find.” Mrs. Weeks turned off the gas burner and lifted the curling iron by one of its wooden handles. “Who’s going first? Katya?”

Magdalene gestured Katya ahead of her. Katya took the spare handle, warm despite the wood, and stepped in front of the mirror hung in the kitchen for this very purpose. She squeezed the handles together, letting the spring separate the two lengths of ten-inch metal. She wound a section of her bangs around the round rod and let the other piece relax to pin it in place.

“Don’t you worry, dear,” Mrs. Weeks told Katya. “I’ve seen a lot of women in my time. Few of them were as lovely as you. Even fewer of them remain comely as the years get on.”

Katya swelled with adoration at her mother away from the one who raised her. “Thank you, Mrs. Weeks.”

Mary erupted into a coughing fit in the corner. Katya swiveled away from the mirror to watch Mary hack pitifully into her sleeve.

Mrs. Weeks rushed to her daughter’s side. “Are you all right, Mary?”

Mary nodded, brushing her mother aside with her free arm. “It’s a little dusty back here.”

“Let me clean it up for you.”

“No, it’s all right. I’m almost done.”

Katya returned to the mirror, concentrating on the loosest curls and flattest sections of her hair. The heat left her locks with the frizziness most women’s hair suffered, the flyaway curls Katya expected for her look. “You need to visit the carnival, Mary. I never see you there. Even Lizzie shows up on occasion to flaunt whom she’s seeing.”

“I might,” Mary agreed.

Katya went on as if Mary had protested. “You really should. It’s incredibly fun. There are men everywhere if you’re looking for a husband. The food is delicious. There are games and contests. I bet you could win a dancing contest if you found the right partner.”

In the mirror’s reflection, Mary stood up on the other side of the room. “Perhaps one evening, when the dinner dishes are done, I’ll stop by.”

“Please do. It’d be so nice to see you. It’s always the same people there. Miss Neumann goes to see Mr. Warden, and another woman used to come for the same reason. I haven’t seen her in ages.” Katya looked to Magdalene to back her up and keep the conversation flowing.

Magdalene stared off at the counter in the center of the kitchen. She glanced up, her blonde eyebrows raised in a question.

Katya filled her in. “I said we never see Mr. Warden’s old girlfriend anymore, whoever she was.”

Magdalene nodded.

“Mrs. Weeks,” Katya piped up.

“Yes, dear?” The old woman moved to stand behind her.

“You know, I forgot to bring down a single pin. I’d love to pin my hair back when I get finished.”

Mrs. Weeks patted Katya’s shoulder. “I’ll bring them for you.” She left the kitchen, and the short heels of her boots sounded in a retreating series on the front staircase.

Mary lifted the bucket of cleaning water off the floor with a wheezing breath. “I have to dump this outside.” She ambled out the same doorway, turning right toward the back of the house.

Katya lowered the curling tongs from her face and whirled to face her friend. “What’s going on, Mags? I can tell when you need to talk to me.”

Magdalene stepped closer, setting her hands on the spotless surface of the large counter. “I feel scrutinized when I’m working.”

“That still bothers you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you’re being watched outside the carnival, too?”

“No, it’s only there. It’s always security, or at least, that’s who I think they are. They aren’t dressed in the steampunk style, but it’s always the same people, the same men.”

“And they never speak to you?”

“Never. They never even get in line to order food. I think they’re going to the other stall or bringing their own.”

“Do you think they were given orders not to speak to you?”

“I don’t know.”

If it were true, Katya realized only one person could give those orders.

“Mr. Warden’s onto us,” Magdalene said.

Katya shook her head. It was not improbable, but they had tried so hard to be careful. “If he were, why would he have security watching you instead of me? I’ve only had one security guard speak to me since Mr. Lieber died. I rarely see them. You see them all the time.”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to stop meeting with Mr. Kelly?”

“No,” Magdalene said with certainty.

“I want to help him, too,” Katya assured her. “I want to see Mr. Warden dethroned, but how can we do that when we don’t know how much he knows?”

“You could try to find out.”

“He won’t let me. He won’t tell me anything. Isolde Neumann visits him four or five nights a week. When I asked him about it, he acted cool and aloof. Then he made another pass at me. I don’t want to deal with him anymore.”

“We should tell Mr. Kelly we need a new plan.”

Katya agreed with her, but she heard shoes thumping on the front staircase. She whispered to Magdalene. “We’ll talk to Mr. Kelly. We’ll work it out.”

By the time Mrs. Weeks carried a handful of pins into the kitchen, Katya had rededicated herself to curling her long, thick hair. She shone a sweet smile on Mrs. Weeks and the pins in her wrinkled hands. “Thank you. You’re a gem.” To Magdalene, she promised, “I just need another minute with the iron.”