The Inventor's Secret (5 page)

The sound of metal sliding down the side of a rubbish
heap made them both stand up, searching for the source of
the sound. Charlotte swung Pocky up, ready to fire.
“Ash!” Jack’s voice rang out from behind a mound of
brass bed frames.
“Here, Jack!” Ash answered.
Jack appeared a moment later, running toward them.
When he was at their side, he bent over, putting his hands
on his thighs and breathing hard.
“It’s here,” he gasped. “I found it.”
“What’s here?” Charlotte asked.
“Hush.” Ash’s glare startled her. He looked at Jack.
“Where?”
“Not too far,” Jack said. “I can do it.”
“Can you do it in five minutes?” Ash asked him. “That’s
how long we have before the rats come back.”
Jack paled, but he straightened, looking directly at Ash
and shook his head. “I’ll need at least ten.”
His eyes moved briefly to Charlotte, and his jaw
clenched.
“I need you to buy me a little time,” Jack said quietly
to Ash.
“We’ll draw the rats,” Ash told him, and Charlotte’s
gut twisted.
Draw the rats?
Jack glanced at Charlotte again. “No. Forget it. Let’s
just get out of here.”
“This is important,” Ash said. “Too important. We’ll
manage.”
Charlotte couldn’t find her voice. Jack drew a long
breath and nodded.
“Go now.”
Jack dashed into the rubble, turning once to wave at
them, and then vanished behind the hills of refuse.
Ash dropped his sack and pulled out his cane. With a
quick twist of its brass top, the metal came free of the ebony rod. A long silver blade slid out, and Charlotte gasped
when he pulled his shirt sleeve up and drew the sword’s
sharp edge along his arm. Blood welled, running over his
skin. Ash held up his arm so the wind would catch the
scent.
“Oh, Ash,” Charlotte whispered. “What are you doing?”
“They’ll come for this,” Ash said quietly. “It’s the only
sure thing. Be ready.”
Charlotte tightened her grip on Pocky. Her eyes flew up
and down the metal mounds, waiting for movement. Her
ears strained for sounds of their approach.
Ash held his cane in his left hand and his sword in his
right. His eyes were moving as rapidly as Charlotte’s, but
she saw the rat first.
“There.” Her gaze fixed on a scrap pile less than a meter away.
The rat stared at them. Its large black eyes were hungry. The rats were always hungry.
It rose onto its hind legs, exposing its belly—the only
spot on the creature that hadn’t been girded with iron
plates. Two more rats appeared beside the first, their noses
twitching.
“They’ve gotten bigger,” Ash observed.
“They’re always getting bigger,” Charlotte said, shuddering at the implication. On the last run the rats had rivaled cats in size. These were more comparable to collies.
“Withdraw,” Ash whispered. “But move slowly. We
need to pull them away from Jack.”
Side by side, Charlotte and her brother began to back
out of the Heap. The rats were half a dozen in number
now, and new bodies covered in gray fur and black iron appeared with each passing moment, waiting, watching the
two humans inch away.
“When we reach the tree line, start firing,” Ash said.
Charlotte felt the soft give of grass beneath her boots
instead of metal. Another minute and they would be in the
trees, almost to the ship.
All at once, the rats began to move. A swarm of bodies
poured over the scrap hills, surging toward them.
In her peripheral vision, Charlotte glimpsed the tangle of leaves and branches. She relaxed her shoulders and
fired. Pocky didn’t disappoint.
While the innovation of armoring the Heap’s rats with
iron plates made bullets’ effectiveness dicey, the Polar
Oppositional Carbine took advantage of the rats’ unique
composition. Each of Pocky’s barrels sent a magnetic
pulse—one positive, one negative—at its target. Hitting
opposite sides of the rat’s armor, the newly charged plating
did what opposite magnetic poles do. They attracted.
The quickest elimination of a target required a dead-on
shot. And Charlotte had a knack for pivoting, sidestepping, and crouching to make sure each pull of Pocky’s trigger had a devastating result.
Charlotte whistled as the rat she’d hit exploded in a
fountain of blood and gore, its iron sides crumpling inward, crushing the beast. She aimed again, and again. Rats
continued to implode.
As she fired off shot after shot, body swaying with the
rhythm of Pocky’s recoil, Charlotte waited for a break in
the wave of rats. It wasn’t coming.
Beside her, Ash cursed. “We’re going to have to run for
it.”
She didn’t dare take her eyes off the rats, but she shouted
over Pocky’s blasts, “Why aren’t they backing off?”
Usually if she took down enough rats, the rest would
retreat, seeking easier prey.
“It’s my blood,” Ash said through clenched teeth.
“They’re mad for it.”
“Wonderful.” Charlotte watched another rat crumple
into a heap of crimson and iron.
“Now!” Ash grabbed her arm.
Her throat tightened at turning her back on the horde
of blood-crazed animals, but she fled with Ash. Even as
they ran, she could hear the rats chasing them, their clawed
feet crackling as they surged through the underbrush.
Charlotte could hear the bubbling of the riverbank, and
a moment later, the
Pisces
’s scales flashed sunlight into her
eyes. She gave a whoop of relief, but beside her Ash cried
out in pain and stumbled.
Throwing her arms around his waist so he wouldn’t
fall, Charlotte saw the intrepid rat that had outpaced its
fellows. Its teeth dug into Ash’s calf. Ash balanced against
Charlotte and struck with his sword. Two halves of the
rat’s bisected corpse rolled to the ground.
“Come on!” Charlotte pulled her brother toward the
river.
Ash’s jaw clenched as he limped at her side. “Run
ahead. I’ll catch you.”
“No!”
Charlotte pushed him in front of her. She whirled
around, not bothering to take aim but sending a barrage of
fire into the furry mass at their heels. A few rats imploded,
but most squeaked when the shots wounded them.
“Charlotte!”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Ash wading into
the river. Firing off a few last haphazard shots, Charlotte
turned and made a break for the
Pisces.
The rats were so close. She could hear them, but what
frightened her more was the expression on Ash’s face. He
wasn’t going to make it to the ship.
From the river, a roar erupted, accompanied by a fount
of steam. The blisteringly hot jet of water arced over Charlotte, tracing a line behind her. Rats screeched their agony
as the water cannon blasted them back.
Ash gave a shout of relief when Charlotte reached him.
She helped him climb up the slippery metal scales. The water cannon continued to propel boiling water at the horde
of ravenous rats.
After they threw themselves inside, Ash collapsed on
the metal grating while Charlotte closed the hatch and
sealed them in the ship. She darted toward the bridge,
grabbing the voice tube.
“We’re in, Scoff. Nice shooting!”
“My pleasure,” Scoff’s voice piped. “Horrid things, aren’t they? And getting awfully big.”
Charlotte returned to Ash. He’d already cut away his
shirtsleeve, using the cloth to bind up the torn flesh of his
calf.
“How bad is it?” Charlotte asked.
“A few bites,” Ash grimaced. “Hardly a meal worth being cut in half for.”
“Meg will take care of you.” Charlotte helped him to
his feet, and he leaned on her as she led him to the bridge.
Scoff appeared behind them. He pulled a bottle out of
his pocket, forcing it into Ash’s hand.
When Ash immediately tried to give it back, Scoff
laughed. “No fear, Ash. It’s not one of mine. That’s Meg’s
tonic. Drink it quick before those rat bites put poison in
your blood.”
“Thanks,” Ash said and knocked back the tonic in one
swallow, shuddering after he did so. “Yours might not be
as predictable, Scoff, but they definitely taste better.”
“Of course they do. I care about how they taste.” Scoff
grinned. “Meg only cares about how they work.”
His smile began to fade. “Where’s Jack?”
When Ash didn’t answer quickly enough, Scoff began
to shake. “He’s not—”
“No,” Ash said. “He had something else to take care
of. That’s the reason the rats were coming after us. We
couldn’t let them hunt Jack.”
Scoff looked relieved, but then he frowned. “What did
he have to do? Is he still out there?”
Ash shook his head. “He’ll meet us back at the Catacombs.”
“We’re not waiting for him?” Charlotte asked, horrified. They couldn’t presume Jack was okay on his own in
the Heap. It was too much of a risk for anyone.
“Jack can take care of himself.” Ash signaled Scoff toward the controls. “It’s time for us to go home.”
While Scoff guided them beneath the river’s surface,
Charlotte strapped herself into her chair. Feeling Ash’s
gaze on her, she turned to look at her brother.
“He’ll be fine,” Ash said.
Charlotte nodded, but she didn’t think the knot in her
belly would untie itself until she saw Jack for herself.

HE RESTLESS BOUNCING of Ash’s
knee for the duration of the trip home channeled into his leaping from the chair and out
the hatch as soon as the sub was docked.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte answered. When her head
poked out of the hatch, she saw that despite his limp, Ash
was already halfway up the spiral staircase.

Birch was waiting for them at the end of the dock.
“How she’d go?” He offered his hand as Charlotte stepped
from the gangway.

Scoff skipped the gangway, jumping directly from the
Pisces
’s scales onto the dock. “Perfect.”

“Glad to hear it,” Birch said. “I saw that Ash was bleed

ing. Was there trouble?”
“Rats,” Charlotte told him.
“And Pocky didn’t take care of them?” Birch asked.

“I’m disappointed.”
“Pocky did her best,” Charlotte said. “But when they
got a whiff of Ash’s blood, the gun wasn’t enough.”
Birch nodded. “It’s a shame he was hurt. I’ve been trying to tell Ash no one should go into the Heap with skin
exposed. Too easy to get cut. When rats think there might
be human flesh to savor, they’re difficult to stop.”
Charlotte gave Birch a long look before saying, “Ash
cut himself on purpose.”
“He did what?” Birch gaped at her.
Scoff stumbled back and almost fell off the dock.
“That’s why I had to use the cannon? I thought you’d just
riled them up.”
“Well, we had,” Charlotte told them. “But it was the
blood that did the riling.”
Birch paced the width of the dock. “So very reckless.
Why on earth—”
“For Jack,” Charlotte cut in. “To give him time.”
Jack’s name pulled Birch up abruptly. He looked at
Scoff and Charlotte and then up at the stairs Ash had
rushed to climb.
“Where is Jack?”
“He didn’t come back with us,” Scoff said. “I still don’t
know why.”
“I don’t know either,” Charlotte added. “Did you know
anything about a separate mission for Jack on this run?”
she asked Birch.
“I knew nothing of the kind.” Birch frowned. “And I’d
never suggest sending someone into the Heap alone. What
was Ash thinking?”
Charlotte took Birch’s hand, pulling him to the staircase. “Let’s find out.”
“Wait just a minute,” Birch said, hauling her back. “I
need to check out my beauty first. Make sure everything is
as it should be after her voyage.”
“You can tune up the ship later,” Charlotte said. “Ash
and Jack are up to something, and I need you to back me
up.”
“Back you up how?” Birch stopped tugging Charlotte
backward.
“You know Ash won’t listen if it’s just me,” Charlotte
told him. “He’ll tell you if you ask.”
“You want me to play the pawn when you’re controlling
the board?” Birch laughed.
Scoff pushed passed them, running to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Charlotte called after him.
“To get Pip,” he shouted. “She won’t want to miss this.”
“Oh, dear.” Birch sighed, but he followed Charlotte up
the winding staircase. When they reached the tunnels, he
asked, “Do you even know where Ash went?”
“No,” Charlotte said. “But I can guess.”
Jack had said he’d meet them back at the Catacombs.
There was only one other entrance by which he could return.
When they arrived at the platform and found it empty,
Charlotte kicked the railing in frustration. Jack wasn’t
here yet. The more time that passed before he returned,
the less likely he’d ever come back.
“Why is he in the wheelhouse?” Birch asked, frowning.
“There aren’t scheduled arrivals today.”
Charlotte peered at the wheelhouse, and sure enough,
Ash was inside, looking harried. At least her brother was
as anxious awaiting Jack’s appearance as she was.
“This is an unscheduled arrival,” she muttered to Birch.
She stepped behind the tinker and pushed him toward the
box. “Go on, then.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m just going to stay back a bit.” She tried to muster
a reassuring smile, but Birch snorted at her before he went
to the operator’s box and stepped inside.
Ash, who’d been bent over the controls, started at the
unexpected company. Watching as their mouths moved
in a conversation silent to her, Charlotte inched toward
the wheelhouse. She stopped when Birch began to gesture
wildly. Ash watched him solemnly, nodding every so often.
Birch abruptly burst from the wheelhouse, storming
away.
“What happened?” Charlotte asked as he brushed by
her, heading for the tunnels.
“Can’t talk,” he blurted out. “Too much to do. Preparations.”
He bumped into Scoff, who was coming out of the pas
sageway, but didn’t stop then either.
Scoff had Pip with him, and to Charlotte’s surprise,
Grave had accompanied them too.
“What did you do to Birch?” Scoff asked Charlotte.
“I didn’t do anything to him.” She pointed at the wheelhouse and found that Ash was glaring at her through the
glass barrier. “He went to talk to Ash and then he just ran
off.”
“That’s odd,” Pip said. “Birch never gets mad at anybody.” She glanced at Scoff. “Unless they steal his tools.”
“I was borrowing them,” Scoff said. “And it was only
once.”
“What’s this all about anyway?” Pip asked her. “Scoff
said there was going to be a spectacular surprise.”
Scoff’s brow crinkled. “I said we didn’t know what was
going on.”
“Which means we’ll be surprised,” Pip told him. “And
I’m hoping for spectacular.”
Charlotte was hoping to find out what had happened to
Jack, but was bothered even more that she continued to be
excluded from whatever scheme her brother had hatched.
Now Birch knew something secret as well, and that irked
Charlotte more than an itch she couldn’t quite scratch.
“You’re safe, then?” Grave’s quiet question caught her
off guard.
“I’m sorry?” She looked at him, noting that he was as
pale as he’d been the previous day. He did look more at
ease, though.
Grave glanced at Pip. “She told me that you were out
scavenging. And that scavenging is horribly dangerous.”
“Pip.” Charlotte put her hands on her hips. “That is not
exactly the type of introduction to our home that Grave
needs.”
Pip twirled her pigtails in her hands. “Of course he
does. And it
is
dangerous.”
Charlotte smiled gently at Grave. “There are always
risks when we cross into New York. But we have to do it,
and we’re fine.”
“Are there really man-eating rats?” Grave asked in a
hushed voice.
Charlotte glared at Pip again.
“It’s not my fault the Empire feeds prisoners to the rats
so they’ll want to hunt trespassers.” Pip shrugged.
“Why are you spending time with Pip anyway?” an exasperated Charlotte asked Grave. “Where’s Meg?”
Pip stuck her tongue out at Charlotte. “I’m more fun!”
“Where’s Meg?” Charlotte asked again.
“She’s teaching the small children.” Pip sounded bored.
“You should know that. And she asked me to keep Grave
company.” She elbowed Grave, and he winced. “Come on,
Grave. Tell her I’m good company.”
“It’s been interesting,” Grave told Charlotte.
“No one appreciates me,” Pip pouted. “Except Birch.”
“I think you’re brilliant company, Pip,” Scoff told her.
“You’re only saying that because I’ll drink your tonics.”
She patted her green hair before she turned her attention
back to Charlotte. “So when is the surprise happening?
Are we just going to wait here?”
As if in answer to Pip’s question, the lift’s iron chain
began to move. With creaks and groans, the elevator began
to rise.
Charlotte rushed to the railing. When the basket appeared, Jack was leaning against one side looking very
pleased with himself. Seeing Charlotte on the other side of
the gate, he laughed.
“Miss me that much?”
“Where were you?” Charlotte pushed aside the relief
she felt now that Jack was here and obviously unhurt.
He didn’t answer as he opened the door. She kept her
hands on the platform gate.
“I’m not letting you through until you tell me what’s
going on.”
“Get out of the way, Charlotte.” Ash limped up beside
her.
She started to protest, but when she saw that he was
still bleeding from his arm and leg, she stepped back.
Ash opened the gate, and Jack hopped out of the basket.
The two boys looked at each other silently until Jack gave
a slight nod. Ash bowed his head, taking a long breath.
Then he suddenly grabbed Jack and lifted him up in a bear
hug.
“Easy there, mate,” Jack said. “You look like you belong in the infirmary.”
Ash laughed and set Jack down. “I’ll be fine.”
Jack pointed at Ash’s poorly bandaged leg. “Did the
rats do that?”
Ash nodded, and Jack glanced at Charlotte. “Pocky
didn’t come through?”
Before she could answer, Ash said, “Charlotte did all
she could. There were just too many.”
Jack smiled grimly. “I owe you.”
“I think you’ve already made it up to me,” Ash said.
“Let’s get you patched up, friend.” Jack levered Ash
against him and the two of them started for the tunnels.
Charlotte stared after them, boiling with outrage. She
thought she would go mad from not knowing what they
were up to.
“That wasn’t a spectacular surprise,” Pip complained.
“That was just Jack.”
“But Ash was bleeding,” Scoff offered. “That’s something.”
“I suppose so,” Pip mused with a glance at Charlotte.
“He’s a daring fellow, your brother.”
“Ugh.” Charlotte stamped her foot. “I hate him.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” Pip told her. “Especially when the rats tried to eat him.”
Charlotte ignored her, stewing in her own frustration.
“Come on, then.” Scoff waved for them to follow him
off the platform. “We still need to offload and sort through
the loot.”
Sulking, Charlotte shuffled her way along the passage.
She wished she could go to her room and wait for Ash to
find her and apologize like he should. He wouldn’t, of
course. She’d wait, and he’d come and scold her for acting
like a child.
Grave fell into step beside her.
“It sounds terrifying,” he said. “You must be very
brave.”
She straightened up, surprised by his words. “I don’t
think I’m that brave. I’d rather be out on a run than cooped
up here.”
Grave glanced around the tunnel, eyes lingering on the
soft blue light cast by the fungi. “I don’t mind it here. I feel
safe.”
“It is safe,” Charlotte said. “But it can get a bit dull.
Going out makes me feel alive. In here it’s as though the
world outside doesn’t exist. And I don’t like that—though
keeping away from the world is exactly the point of this
place.”
“Why is that?” Grave asked. “The world sounds bad.
Yesterday that thing chased me. Today I learned there are
rats bred to kill and eat people. Who would do that?”
Charlotte laughed. “Britannia. The Empire.”
“Are they monsters?” he whispered.
“No, they’re people like us. Only they make the rules,”
she said. “They just act like monsters when someone tries
to go against them.”
“And you’re hiding from them?”
“We are.” Charlotte nodded. “Because we come from
families who don’t want to live the way the Empire says
they should. They’ve been fighting since the Revolution
failed—at least those who weren’t captured have been.”
Grave asked, “Where are your families?”
“The Resistance has pockets all over,” Charlotte said.
“I’m not exactly sure where my parents are. They move
a lot, and they don’t contact us that often. It’s safer that
way.”
“Do you miss your mother and father?”
She was surprised by the sudden lump in her throat.
“Always.”
He nodded. “Will you see them again?”
“Yes,” she told him. “We only stay here when we’re
too young to help with the Resistance. Ash turns eighteen
soon, so he’ll go.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” she said with a sigh. “But I’d like to go when
Ash does.”
“You’re very brave,” he said. “You want to go fight an
empire.”
Charlotte fell silent. Talk of the Resistance and her supposed bravery made being angry with Ash seem silly.
She looked at Grave. “Do you remember anything today?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know my name. Or if I have
parents. I don’t know why I was in the woods.”
Charlotte took his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

IRCH SHOUTED INSTRUCTIONS as
they rifled through the sacks. Sorting loot
never failed to require both tenacity and endurance. Charlotte forced herself to be patient as she murmured instructions to Grave,
explaining how to differentiate scrap metal from potentially working parts.

A whoop brought all of their heads up and sent Moses
spiraling from Birch’s shoulder into the air.
Doing a little jig, Birch held up a small object.
“I think this will prove a good run indeed!”
“What’s that?” Grave whispered.