A Study in Darkness (51 page)

Not long after, the larger bird flew away in a thunder of wings. The smaller one fluttered onto Nick’s shoulder. He rose and walked toward her. “This is Talfryn,” he said. “He is ready to earn his first piece of metal.”

“Hello,” she said to the bird, who gave her a look that was too shrewd by half. In fact, the creature kind of reminded her of Nick, its shining black feathers mingling with his straight black hair. “Is he part of the plan to get through the gate?”

“Not entirely. His part comes later. For now, we’re going to have to leave the path.”

So they did, detouring over the rolling ground to come at the gate at a less visible angle. As they approached the brick structure, the ash rooks made a clamor over the south tower, distracting the watchmen as Nick and Evelina crossed the one patch of ground that had no real cover. Once they were in the shadow of the fence, it was a matter of creeping up to the mouth of the passage where the river flowed under an iron grill.

Whoever had designed the gate had never envisioned these particular visitors. Glad she had eaten little breakfast, Evelina wriggled through the gap between the brick wall and the gate. For a moment she dangled over the running water, but her toes quickly found solid ground. With the help of a rope and a grappling hook, Nick squeezed between the iron gate and the brick archway, walking along the top of the gate to drop down safely onto the dry walkway. Talfryn simply flew past unremarked.

On the other side of the gate, a narrow brick ledge ran on either side of the river, but a dozen yards along was the waterwheel,
a good thirty feet in height with angled blades that made the most of the river’s steady flow. An enormous shaft ran through it, the ends disappearing into the brickwork on either side. But the wheel wasn’t just driven by the paddles striking the river. A separate channel of water was directed to the top of the tower and dropped from above, driving the wheel with greater force. It made the space inside the brick tower very noisy and very wet.

Nick and Evelina exchanged a glance. The shaft of the wheel was enormous—too high to jump over—and the waterway was too dangerous to swim. Evelina eyed the space under the shaft, wondering if she could squeeze beneath it. It might have been possible if she were Mouse.

Then Nick threw his grappling hook at the brickwork above. It took three tries, but eventually it found solid purchase. He climbed partway up the wall, digging fingers and toes into cracks in the mortar. Then he held out a hand for Evelina.

She balked for a moment, knowing what he intended to do—but the roar of the water drowned out any protest she might have made. Nick was drawing on a game they’d played in childhood, a way to cross a stream from bank to bank without a bridge, or a way to dangle over the largest mud puddle they could find, daring each other to fall. It was a game of agility, but mostly it was a game of trust.

It was insanity, but she didn’t have a better idea. Gamely, Evelina crawled up the bricks just ahead of him, scraping knuckles and scuffing the last shreds of leather on her boots. She could taste brick dust and mold, and the stink of rotting vegetation clinging to the walls. Then Nick’s arm gripped her hard around the waist, she clung to him, and they swung over the turning shaft.

Evelina’s stomach swooped a beat behind the rest of her, and she was suddenly ten years old again, free as only a child can be. She remembered to tuck her feet up, but she forgot about her trailing skirts. She felt something snag, and the surreal strength of the machine jerked her. She grabbed her skirt, relying on Nick’s strength to hold her as she ripped it free. But his one-handed grasp wasn’t secure enough and
as hard as he tried to hold her, she began to slide. She reached for him, but it was too late and she slithered from his arms.

Mercifully, they cleared the shaft before she fell. Childhood training made her try to roll as she landed, but she dropped onto her hip and shoulder, smacking hard against the bricks. She began to tumble toward the water, but Nick was there. He caught her just as her feet went over and hauled her back to safety.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice urgent. “I’m so sorry.”

She lay gasping in his arms a moment, stunned, aching, and gasping for breath. The fall had knocked the wind out of her.

“Are you all right?” he demanded, brows drawn down into a frown. He was feeling for broken bones, but she swatted him way. “Hold still!” he said crossly. “You’re always the worst patient.”

She made an inarticulate noise, trying not to cry but feeling her nose start to run anyhow. She hurt, but the shock of falling was worse. “Just get me on my feet.”

He complied, saying nothing as she drew in her breath with a hiss and sagged against him. “Did you twist your ankle?” he asked.

“Girls only do that in books,” she snapped, then felt awful for being cross. Never mind that it felt like her leg might fall off at any moment, and she wasn’t likely to sit down comfortably for a month. She lifted her chin and forced a smile. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, sounding utterly unconvinced. “I’m sorry.”

She squeezed his arm. “It’s not your fault. We made it over, didn’t we?” She was still leaning into him, not sure she could carry on without the feel of his warm strength against her. Reluctantly, she swayed away, putting her weight on both feet. A pain shot up her right side, but she didn’t topple over. That would have to be good enough, because there was no way she would slow him down. “Lead on.”

“Are you sure? I can get your proof for you. You don’t need to do this.” His eyes were dark with concern.

She ached with the sweetness of that look. “Nick, you were smart enough to invite me on this adventure. You know who I am and what I’m capable of, and that means more to me than I can say.”

“I knew you wouldn’t thank me for leaving you behind. You never did.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tight around her. She heard his heart beat, quick and strong with emotion. “It drives me to madness some days. Just don’t be too proud to tell me if you’re hurt.”

“I’m not,” she said, lying only a little. “I’m with you all the way.”

The words carried a subtle weight, as if they meant more than she’d thought when she let them go. They both heard it, bodies tensing. Then softly, he kissed her forehead. They stood like that for a dozen heartbeats, the rush of the water surrounding them in a glistening mist. To Evelina, it felt like a blessing.

Talfryn found them on the other side of the waterwheel, settling to ride on Nick’s shoulder. It was now close to midday, but there were few people outside the sheds. The buildings were a mix of tin and wooden structures, painted white and set close to the high fence. There was a path a few feet wide behind the buildings, hard to see unless one was at the perfect angle. That’s where they went first. Although the narrow passage was sheltered from view, they moved quickly, afraid to linger. Evelina did her utmost not to limp.

They were there to find evidence, but she wasn’t sure what that would be. What they wanted was a workshop or an office—something with papers to look at, perhaps incriminating letters or a blueprint for one of the rolling cannons Nick had seen. Most of all, they wanted someplace easy to get in and out of unseen.

They paused behind each of the enormous sheds, listening. Some were filled with the sounds of labor—banging and sawing—and others were perfectly quiet. The tin buildings had shoddy seams with gaps wide enough to peer through. The first was uninteresting, but the second had a
machine that made them stare. It looked like a great steel carriage, high wheels looming at the back, with three thick steel fingers protruding from the front. They might have been tentacles, but they looked more suited for stomping than for grasping. The next shed turned Evelina’s stomach. It was filled with some kind of mechanical serpents, large and small, that draped over every available surface, trailing like vines or coiled in heaps like animate ropes. Here she felt the first whiff of dark magic and knew that her guess about Magnus was correct. He was the one designing these things—but her word would not be proof enough.

Nick felt the magic, too, and his uneasiness made Talfryn shift nervously. They moved on quickly, coming next to a wooden building that looked more like a small house with a porch and windows. Here, too, she felt the buzz of magic, but it was the warning prickle of a threshold ward. Only the authorized could enter.

Too bad. Evelina could smell the spicy scent of a curry and her mouth began to water, the fresh air and physical activity making her stomach feel hollow. As they looked through the window, they could see it was occupied. Evelina ducked below the sill, then cautiously peered over the edge. A man sat at a wooden table, writing. A half-eaten dish of curry sat pushed to the corner of the table. Evelina fought an impulse to bang on the window and ask him if he meant to finish it.

But he didn’t look like the type to share. Everything about the man was precise, the visage pale, smooth, and cold. He looked about thirty, his neatly trimmed mustache and hair nutmeg brown. He wore a dove gray suit of the latest cut, for all the world as if he meant to attend an afternoon social at the Duchess of Westlake’s country manor. And yet nothing about that face was kind.

“I know him,” said Nick, murmuring low in Evelina’s ear. “His name is Arnold Juniper. He’s the Blue King’s man of business.”

Evelina chewed her lip. Judging by Juniper’s clothes, running London’s poorest quarter must have been remarkably profitable. She saw him pick up a page of sketches, and she
longed for a better look at them. Then he put the page on the stack of papers he was reading and squared the edges of the pile, his fingers fussing until it was perfectly neat. Juniper picked up a pair of gloves, the kid so soft they draped like satin in his grip, and slid them on carefully, smoothing the fingers until each was free of wrinkles. Then came a dove gray top hat and a Malacca walking stick. Finally, he picked up the papers and strode toward the door. Nick and Evelina ducked out of sight.

“I think those papers might be what we need,” she said softly.

Immediately, Talfryn launched himself from Nick’s shoulder, croaking like the herald of the apocalypse. Nick and Evelina scuttled to the corner of the house, peering after the bird. Before Evelina caught a glimpse of the action, an explosion of curses filled the air. She jerked away from her vantage point, pressing her back against the side of the house, and watched in horrified fascination as a snowstorm of paper began tumbling her way. Nick gave her a wide-eyed look and she bit her lip, flirting dangerously with laughter.

And then the page of sketches fluttered by. She dove for it, ignoring Nick’s mime of protest, and caught it just as it reached the fence. Amusement died as Juniper rounded the corner of the building, picking up papers one by one from the grass.

“Damned bloody bird,” he growled, snatching up another sheet.

She dove for the shadows close to the house, but they wouldn’t be any protection if Juniper looked up. The quick movement ignited the fire in her hip and shoulder, robbing her of breath for a moment. Sweat prickled her skin, and she realized with horror that she couldn’t run if she had to.

As if he read her thoughts, Nick raised his gun. The blast would give them away, but Juniper might make a useful hostage. Evelina’s pulse pounded, her lips going numb with fear.

But then Nick gave a flick of his wrist, and Talfryn snatched Juniper’s hat right off his head. Juniper wheeled with a cry of horror, while the rook gripped the costly topper in his claws, flapping madly to stay aloft with that much weight. Juniper
dropped the papers and ran after the ash rook, long legs pumping and bellowing a litany of invective. The rook bobbed, seeming destined for a crash landing, but then redoubled his efforts, gaining altitude. Juniper leaped, snatching at the hat brim, but Talfryn veered away, croaking what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Evelina reeled inside, limbs numb with relief. And then Nick and Evelina darted forward, grabbing all the pages they could.

Their retreat was slow but without incident. Evelina felt the world leach of color as the pain from her fall gradually took hold. It hadn’t seemed bad at first, but now it grew like the roots of a plant, sending shoots that branched and branched again until every inch of her flesh was pierced with it. She prayed Juniper would assume that the wind had snatched his papers, because she couldn’t afford pursuit, and the long trek back to the landing site would have been her undoing if they had been forced to detour. Pride alone kept her going, and Nick had to help her up the ladder to crawl inside the
Wren
.

Evelina collapsed onto the seat and then yelped as her bruises felt her weight. Nick curled his arm around her, pulling her close against his chest as the craft took off. “You were magnificent,” he said. “Strong and brave.”

She gave him a droll look. “Don’t flatter me. I fell on my backside and now it hurts.”

He smiled slowly. “You’re a work of art, Evie Cooper.”

She blushed, half ashamed that she was so susceptible to his praise. It would have been easy to fall asleep right there, curled up against the strong chest of her pirate captain, but there was still work to do. Summoning strength from some remote corner of her being, she forced herself to sit up. “What’s in those papers?”

Nick pulled them out from under his jacket, turning them right side up and smoothing the pages. “Letters. Invoices.” He got to the page of sketches and stopped. “There it is. This handwriting belongs to Magnus.”

“How do you know?”

“Do you remember those plans for a ship that I took when his house burned down?”

Nick had shown them to her and Uncle Sherlock. “Yes.”

“The handwriting is the same.”

“You remember it that well?”

“I’ve stared at those plans for ages.” He gave a slight smile. “I’m building that steamspinner with Lord Bancroft’s gold, plus some that I’ve won for myself with the
Red Jack
. Or rather, I’m having it built. She’s going to be an amazing ship with Athena on board.”

His words pulled her mind away from the problem of collecting evidence. He studied her reaction, but she kept her face carefully schooled. “Truly, what made you think of turning pirate?”