A Study in Darkness (68 page)

“There is much I have to say to you, girl, but it can wait. Obviously, I received your letter,” he said once she finally let him go. “I informed Scotland Yard of what I could. They know the Whitechapel Murderer is on the doctor’s ship.”

“Excellent.”

“How do you mean to stop Magnus?” That was Uncle Sherlock, going directly to the problem at hand.

“I sent word to Nick’s ship,” she said, smoothing her skirts. “I don’t know if he’ll reach it in time, or if he will be able to overpower Magnus by himself. We need help.”

She’d said the last words just as the door banged open. Holmes stiffened.

“That’s why I am here.” It was Jasper Keating, silver haired and patrician, with an entourage of black-coated Yellowbacks trailing in his wake. Evelina froze, anger and loathing taking her strength for an instant. She’d written him with his answers, but certainly hadn’t invited him to this meeting. “I thought you couldn’t come to the Blue King’s territory,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm.

Keating harrumphed, sounding a bit like an offended bull seal. “Today, it is worth the risk. Imogen Roth is a relation by marriage. I have an interest in her welfare.” He cast a narrow-eyed look at Holmes. “And of course you pointed the way, Detective. All we had to do was follow you.”

Uncle Sherlock made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl, but he didn’t reply.

The Gold King turned to Evelina. “Very good of you to call this meeting, my dear. And I must say I truly enjoyed your letter. Exactly what I wanted, though I’m very sorry that you were injured in the process of collecting my information. You won’t go unrewarded. Well done, Evelina.”

The use of her first name was an intimacy she’d never granted. She recoiled inside, but kept her face still. The sight of Keating brought back the impotence she’d felt in his study at Maggor’s Close. He’d all but held her hostage then, and no doubt meant to turn this situation to his own ends.
Reward?
Fury broke through the dark fog of her mood. She clenched her fists, wanting to scream at him to leave. But the truth was, they might well need his wealth and resources to capture Magnus far more than they needed anything she had to offer.

“I have been invited to participate by Scotland Yard,” said Keating grandly. “Thank you for giving them notice, Holmes, they were all the more ready when I announced that I was there to put my resources at their disposal. They have their ships in the air, as do I. Together, we will bring down the
Wyvern
. My own son is participating in the rescue.”

“That would be
my
son,” said Lord Bancroft quietly, entering from the front of the theater. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking to the floor and crushed it into the dust. “And
my
daughter. And under the circumstances, I think most of the credit goes to Miss Cooper for having the presence of mind to notify us of Imogen’s whereabouts. None of the rest of us knew where to start looking.”

The two men glared at each other, hatred barely concealed. Evelina’s nerves itched with the hostility crackling in the air.

“I rather expected that we would discuss what had to be done,” Holmes broke in, entirely courteous for once, “but you appear to have preempted us, Mr. Keating, if there are ships already in the sky.”

“No time to waste in affairs like this,” the Gold King replied.

Evelina heard the door close, and everyone turned that way. It was Bucky Penner, his expression saying that he knew very well he wasn’t welcome—but he wasn’t about to leave.

“What are you doing here?” Lord Bancroft snapped.

“I invited him, too,” said Evelina. “Imogen would want it.”

Bucky pulled off his hat, giving a slight bow. His eyes had
the look of someone who has suffered a bad shock, but his manners were beyond reproach. “I am here to offer whatever assistance it is in my power to offer.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, Imogen would still be safely at home,” Bancroft snapped.

Bucky nodded once, saying nothing. Evelina stiffened, wanting to fly to his defense, but Holmes put a gloved hand on her arm, a gesture of both support and warning. Fortunately, the warning wasn’t needed. Bancroft made a sour face, and contented himself with ignoring the young man.

While they had been talking, the Yellowbacks set up a contraption on the workbench. The device looked vaguely familiar.

“What is that?” Bancroft demanded.

Keating gave a satisfied quirk of the lips. “A communications device that Tobias has been perfecting.”

Now Evelina knew where she had seen it before. “I remember that. It looks like a version of that device Aragon Jackson had at the garden party last spring.”

Bancroft’s face darkened at the memory, and Bucky shifted, no doubt remembering as well. Keating had used it to torture one of Lord B’s upstairs maids.

“But it has become so much more than a mere means of sending an electrical signal through space,” Keating said. “Now it’s a machine for ground-to-air aether telegraphy.”

Despite herself, Evelina was fascinated. “You can speak to your ships from here?”

“Just like a telegraph, but there is no wire.”

Just like the devices Nick found in the Saracen’s Head
. There was no doubt that the Gold King had been spying on the rebels. Evelina chewed her thumbnail, wishing Nick were there.

For a moment, the entire company stood motionless while one of Keating’s men connected the last few parts of the machine together and tapped out a message. A moment later, somebody began tapping one back. Evelina tensed.

“What is it saying?” Bancroft snapped.

The operator was a young man in a checked suit. He cleared his throat, visibly nervous about the whole business.
“The
Helios
—that’s Mr. Keating’s ship—has sighted the black ship, and also another vessel that has already reached the target. It’s the
Red Jack
.”

“The pirate ship.” Keating chuckled, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Fancy that. I believe my stolen casket is on board. I knew that if I had you in my sights long enough, Evelina, somehow you’d manage to draw the pirates out of hiding.”

“How dare you!” Evelina cried, forgetting herself. She had known Magnus wanted to use her to get to Nick, but she hadn’t anticipated this. “Use me, but leave Nick out of this!”

Holmes motioned her to silence, but Keating merely laughed. “Oh, Miss Cooper, I never miss an opportunity to multiply the value of a situation. And Magnus and I have old business to settle.”

“No,” Bancroft said quickly. “That’s my daughter he has. Magnus has
business
with me, and I know my claim is older.”

“Perhaps,” Keating said with a wave. “No doubt there is something you have to offer him, but he has always wanted Athena’s Casket as much as I do. I can offer him more if it comes to bargaining.”

Bancroft bridled, obviously displeased despite all logic to have his role in the drama diminished. But Evelina leaned on her uncle’s arm, strength ebbing to make room for despair as she contemplated Keating’s words. It was true, the Gold King and Magnus both wanted Athena—they had ever since the casket had been dug from beneath Greek soil and shipped to London months before. She didn’t doubt that they desired the deva enough to kill for it.

And she had been the one to summon Nick right into their trap. “Oh, no,” she whispered, closing her eyes against Keating’s mocking stare.

AS HE PACED
down the ship’s corridor, Nick paused at each door, looking through the tiny windows. The first few rooms were dark, yielding no information. But the next one showed light, so he peered through at an angle, making sure his own
face wasn’t visible to whoever was inside. With a mix of alarm and satisfaction, he glimpsed a fair-haired woman struggling with an attacker he couldn’t see.

His booted foot broke the lock with a single blow, sending the door crashing inward. He slid inside the room, his Striker-made weapon up and ready to fire. “Hold!”

He recognized Imogen Roth in an instant, but unexpectedly her attacker was another woman. That caught him off guard just long enough for the red-haired female to swing around in the tiny cabin and knock him on the shoulder. He gave a surprised grunt. She was no taller than he was, but was enormously strong. He bounced against the wall, cracking his head hard enough to make the room spin.

Nick swore as his weapon flew from his hand, bouncing onto the drab blankets. He stumbled, righting himself and bashing his shin on the edge of the cot. Crew quarters weren’t meant for combat. He righted himself just as Miss Roth lunged for the weapon. The redhead darted forward at the same instant. If they struggled for the gun, that wasn’t going to end well.

“Stop!” He pulled his revolver, aiming it at the aggressor. The redhead turned to him, her movements not quite right. Nick’s jaw dropped, astonishment blanking his thoughts for an instant.
An automaton!
It opened its mouth wide in a mockery of a smile that looked more like a hungry leer. The thing gathered into itself like a serpent and sprang.

Bloody hell!
He put a bullet between its eyes, porcelain face shattering, spewing hair and clockwork and shards of glass. The sound was terrible, whatever gave the thing voice dying in a wheeze. The body fell to the floor with a clatter, more bits and pieces scattering as it crashed.

Miss Roth made a strangled cry, turning a pasty white. “She was trying to … to … take my life.”

“Are you hurt?” Nick demanded.

“No. And neither is she.”

He was about to ask what she meant, but then the automaton started to pull itself to its hands and knees. Nick shuddered, his dinner crawling back up his throat. The doll was broken, and shouldn’t have been able to move—but Nick
didn’t give that a second thought. He didn’t care about the why, he simply wanted to be gone.

“Miss Roth? I’m Nick.”

But Imogen Roth had Striker’s weapon, and was pointing it at the lurching automaton. “I know who you are.”

“Come on!” Nick urged. “We have to leave.”

“I can’t,” she said, sighting down the weapon. For a pale, thin thing, she had steady hands. “That’s my sister.”

That made no sense. “What?”

The automaton got to its feet, sparks flying from the shattered head. Red hair spilled from the remains of the skull like blood, the face reduced to a plane of rattling gears. The limbs jerked spasmodically, but still the arms reached for Miss Roth, fingers clutching.

Miss Roth pulled the trigger with a heartbroken cry. The weapon made a peculiar sound, and a bolt of green and blue light blossomed out its end. The automaton blew out the door and into the passage with a splintering crash. Miss Roth dropped the weapon to the cot, backing away from it as if it might turn and sink fangs into her flesh. Nick saw the wide-eyed shock on her face, and knew he didn’t understand the whole of it, but there was no time for questions.

“Come on.” He grabbed Miss Roth and Striker’s weapon and ran. Someone would have heard the shots and Nick needed to get them back to the
Red Jack
. She trailed after him, skittering past the twitching wreck of the automaton.

“How did you know I was here?” She asked after a few strides. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her mouth was set in a determined line.

“Evelina sends her regards.”

Miss Roth looked at him sharply, pale gray eyes searching his face. “She’s not dead?”

Nick shook his head. “She was badly hurt, miss, but she’s fine.”

Miss Roth sucked in her breath, but she kept pace with him, which was all he cared about right then. He made it to the door that led out to the deck when he knew something had gone wrong. He’d brought two men, but there were a lot more fighting. Ash rooks were diving out of the dark, metal
collars flashing. Swords and guns were in play, men cursing, sometimes screaming in pain. He felt Imogen shrink closer to him, her fingers trembling in fright.

“Trust me,” he said gently. “I’ll see you safe.”

She nodded, all business. “And I won’t hold you back, if I can help it.” In that moment, Nick understood what Evelina saw in her friend.

“But if you can burn that automaton,” she added, swallowing hard as if she were fighting down more than fear, “I’d greatly appreciate it. I don’t think gunshots will kill it, and I need it to be thoroughly dead.”

It was animated by magic, Nick guessed. “Don’t worry, I’m planning on burning this whole fardling ship and Magnus along with it.”

“Good,” Miss Roth said in her quiet way. “And thank you for saving me.”

Slowly, they went through the door to the deck. He took her arm and drew her close, shielding her with his body as he looked for Striker and Digby. The battle was all too familiar—blood, noise, and the stink of gunpowder.

He recognized Yellowbacks, and that meant one of Keating’s ships had to be there. That spelled big trouble for the
Jack
as long as she was grappled alongside Magnus’s ship, waiting for the landing party. The Yellowbacks were well armed and disciplined, the best brutes that Keating’s money could buy, and their ships were typically heavy with cannons.

By contrast, the
Wyvern’s
mesmerized crew were poor fighters, if the number of dead and wounded was any indication. That meant there was little fighting to be done before Keating’s men turned their attention to the
Jack
.

Nick took a few steps toward the grappling lines, Miss Roth close behind. They hadn’t gone far when he heard a shout.

“Imogen!”

They both turned. Nick saw a fair-haired man barreling his way through the melee, pausing only to club someone over the head in passing. He was flanked by two Yellowbacks, but ordered them aside when he was a few yards away.

“Tobias!” Miss Roth cried.

Nick stared in astonishment.
First a demonic automaton, and now this
.

Tobias Roth bore down on them like an avenging angel. Nick’s first thought was to shoot him on principle. His second was that he had Roth’s sister by the hand.

“Imogen!” Roth bellowed again.

“I’m here,” Miss Roth replied, this time sounding slightly impatient.