Angel of Brass (17 page)

Which would have been fine advice, except
that the young men weren’t exactly lining up to guide me anywhere,
were they?

The dress Winifred had chosen for her
consisted of yards of burgundy silk, trimmed in black lace. There
was also a brocade corset, black lace gloves, and a velvet choker
set with a tiny clock face. Molly couldn’t imagine the use of that,
unless it was to let one’s dance partner keep track of the
hour.

Winifred, of course, had to see the dress,
and exclaimed over it as expected. While she and the dressmaker
carried on, Molly stared glumly at her reflection in one of the
dozen mirrors set around the dressing area. The gown was lovely, as
it went, and on another woman it might have been stunning. Looking
at herself, though, Molly found herself thinking of sow’s ears and
silk purses.

Eventually, the session was over; the
dressmaker would make a few adjustments, before delivering it to
Ellington House. Freed at last, Molly was grateful to get back out
into the open air of the street.

“There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Winifred asked happily.

Hating to disappoint her sister—Winifred
really did mean the best, after all—Molly said, “No, not too
bad.”

“You’ll look beautiful at the ball. All the
young men will be fighting to get to you.”

Based on previous experience, Molly rather
doubted the likelihood of that. “The ball isn’t something I’m
attending for pleasure, or have you forgotten about the other
business?”

“True.” Winifred opened the door of her
carriage, but lingered on the sidewalk. “But one thing I’ve learned
from being married to Gibson is that, in these sorts of
circumstances, it’s best to find pleasure where you can. It keeps
one from worrying too much, you see.”

For an instant, Winifred looked sad. Feeling
as though she’d been horribly insensitive, Molly put a hand to her
sister’s arm “Is it very difficult for you, then?”

“In some ways. Mainly the worry, you know.
The last man who held Gibson’s office...they never found his body.
He just disappeared. No one’s even sure what happened to him.”

Saints
. “That’s terrible. If you ever
need to talk—”

“Thank you.” Winifred embraced her quickly.
“That is one of the best things to come out of this dreadful
business. I don’t have to pretend around you anymore, at least in
private.”

Although it made her grit her teeth, Molly
said, “If it would please you to have me come to dinner tonight, I
will.”

Winifred laughed. “A handsome offer, but no.
You’d be miserable, and that would make me sad. Go have fun at the
celebration, and I’ll enjoy myself at dinner. All right?”

“All right.”

“And take Jin with you. I don’t want you
wandering around alone.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Yes, Winifred.”

Winifred laughed again and climbed into her
carriage.

* * *

Jin sat across from Liam in the flat’s small
sitting room, a wooden game board on the small table between them.
Liam was trying to teach Jin a game called Sockets and Wrenches.
Watching his pieces slowly but inexorably disappear off the board,
Jin admitted to himself that he was no better at this than at
chess, a game Dr. Malachi had insisted he learn. Every Saturday
night of his quasi-childhood had featured Jin losing spectacularly
to Malachi and Del.

Liam frowned at the board. A day’s rest had
done him good, and he didn’t look quite so drawn and pale as he had
the night before. “Ah ha,” Liam said—and collected the rest of
Jin’s pieces in a single move. “Play again?”

“No, thanks.” Jin stared morosely at the
board. “I’ve lost enough for one day.”

“You’re still learning the game. You’ll get
better with practice,” Liam assured him. “But if we’re done for the
day, perhaps you’d care to listen to the wireless, then?”

“Of course.” Jin stood up and went to turn on
the set. It was a slightly newer model than Molly’s, and Liam had
modified it further, to improve the quality of the sound.

At that moment, the bell rang in the front
hall. The two men exchanged glances. “Probably Molly,” Liam said,
but Jin heard the unease in his voice.

Jin pulled off one of his gloves, then hid
his hand behind his back, so that at least he’d have one set of
claws ready if their unexpected visitor was of a more sinister
nature. “I’ll check.”

Fortunately, it was indeed Molly on the other
side of the door. Rather than her usual clothing, she wore a long
skirt, corset, and a hat with a spray of parrot feathers in it.
“Hello,” she said with a nervous smile when he opened the door. “I
came by...I mean, that is, there’s a celebration taking place
tonight, along the Sun Road. I thought you—both of you—might like
to go.”

“Count me out,” Liam called from his chair.
“I’m not going to be able to navigate a crowd with this arm. The
first time someone knocked into me—”

“Ow,” Molly said, crinkling her nose
sympathetically.

“But Jin can go.”

Jin hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine.” Liam flapped his hand in
their direction, as if ushering them out. “I’m going to just sit
here and listen to the aetherwave for a while, maybe read a book.
Don’t worry about me.”

“Very well.” Jin turned to Molly and gave her
a small bow. “I’m all yours.”

Her cheeks colored slightly. “Let’s go
then.”

Molly led the way to the monorail station,
and they caught the next train to the city’s center. As the
monorail clattered and clanked along its track above the river, Jin
said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in a skirt before.”

Molly held out her skirt and inspected it
critically, as if questioning her own fashion sense. “It’s the only
one I have. I thought that, since this is a celebration, I should
wear something special.”

“Oh.” Jin looked down at his simple vest,
shirt, and trousers. “I don’t really have anything appropriate,
although Gibson sent me a letter of introduction to some suit-maker
in Brasstown that I’m supposed to visit before the ball.”

“I just got back from a dressmaker’s myself,”
Molly said with a small scowl.

“You don’t sound as if you enjoyed it.”

“I didn’t. It’s just not...me, really. I
prefer clothes that I don’t have to worry about getting grease
on.”

“Still, I’m sure you look beautiful in
it.”

She glanced at him, surprised, and didn’t
seem to know what to say. Jin kicked himself mentally—he wasn’t any
good at giving compliments. Although Dr. Malachi had instilled some
manners in his creations, the sort of social niceties expected
between men and women hadn’t been among them.

He was saved from embarrassing himself
further by the monorail’s arrival at the platform. The car was
packed, with people of all kinds jostling one another, and Jin
offered Molly his arm to keep them from being separated. Her
fingers felt warm through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he was
oddly glad that she didn’t let go even after they’d cleared the
platform.

The street below seemed to have been closed
off to any conveyances; at least, all he saw were pedestrians,
mingling amidst stationary carts and stalls. Many of the
festival-goers were brightly dressed in silks, brocade, feathers,
and lace. Brass gleamed in the gaslight: monocles and goggles,
watch fobs and buckles. Mechapedes scuttled along the buildings
high above, keeping an eye on the crowd, and policemen patrolled on
foot, anonymous behind their featureless masks. The smell of exotic
spices filled the air, making Jin’s stomach growl. A young man on
the corner ate fire to the applause of the crowd, and children
carrying brightly colored streamers chased one another around the
streetlamps.

Because the celebration was meant to honor
the arrival of Prince Five Jaguar, there was a distinctly Xatlian
flavor to the festival. Vendors sold tamales, atole, and
tortilla-wrapped rice and beans. Someone had set up a group of
automata at an intersection, which created music with flutes,
drums, and rattles. There were jugglers, a fire-breather who had
painted his face to resemble a jaguar, and a hoop dancer skilled
enough that the cup in front of him all but overflowed with
coins.

In an empty lot, someone had roped off a
large space. A group of dancers in feathered outfits swirled and
jumped, while one of their number carried a model of a
brightly-colored dirigible high over their heads. They made their
way across the space to meet another group dressed in old-fashioned
Eroevian clothes.

“Not very accurate,” Molly observed as they
stopped to watch.

“Accurate?”

“The dirigibles of the time didn’t look
anything like that.”

Jin cast her a bemused glance. “I’m afraid I
don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Molly gestured to the dance, which had
entered a new phase where the two groups mimed attacking one
another. “They’re acting out the meeting between the Xatlian Empire
and Kilar.”

Jin ducked his head, feeling stupid. “Dr.
Malachi didn’t think much of history,” he mumbled.

“Then shall I explain?” Molly asked with a
smile. Relieved that she didn’t think him a complete idiot, he
nodded.

She turned back to the dancers, narrowing her
eyes and pursing her lips, which he’d learned were signs that she
was deep in thought. “You know that Kilar is an island off the
coast of Eroe, right? About four hundred years ago, the people were
going about their business, when they saw a strange sight.
Something was flying at them over the ocean. Now, you have to
understand—nothing
ever
came over the ocean, except birds,
and seals, and clouds. And here comes what looks like a barge of
some sort, but it’s roped to an enormous, scarlet balloon, and it’s
flying
. This is at a time when we Eroevians were still
riding around on horseback and shooting each other with
muskets.”

“Huh.” Jin tried to imagine what that would
be like and failed. Airships were just too ordinary to him. “So the
dirigible was from Xatli?”

“Exactly. They’d been developing them for a
few generations, but at the time they mostly used them for travel
within the interior of their continent, or to visit islands off the
coast. A man by the name of Macaw Shield had the idea to use them
in exploration. He was convinced that if he just kept flying, he’d
eventually hit land. It was a little farther than he’d expected,
and they were almost out of fuel by the time they spotted Kilar—the
history book they used in my school said they had less than a day
before they ran out and crashed into the ocean, although I suspect
that bit was fudged for dramatic effect. Fortunately for Macaw
Shield, once the Kilarans stopped hiding in their cottages and came
out, they were hospitable. Unfortunately for him, Kilar wasn’t
exactly the rich paradise he’d been hoping to find. The one thing
they did have was iron-working, so Macaw Shield promptly kidnapped
the local blacksmith and hauled him back to Xatli, to teach his own
people the secrets of the forge. Less than twenty years later, an
entire fleet of airships came over the horizon, armed to the teeth.
I suppose the blacksmith had told his captors that there were
things worth taking over here after all, despite the impression
Kilar must have given them.

“To make a long story short, all of the
coastal kingdoms, and a lot of the interior ones, ended up as
Xatlian provinces. I suppose the only reason we weren’t completely
subdued was that the Xatlian emperor got the idea of exploring the
ocean on his other side, ran into the Muling-Raja Empire, and
promptly ended up in a war with them. While the Xatlians were
distracted with that war, the old kingdoms here were able to
successfully rebel, although Kilar is still a protectorate and
technically under the rule of the Xatlian Emperor.”

“But it seems as though things are friendly
now.”

“It’s in our interest to be,” Molly said
practically. “The Xatlian Empire is
big
, for one thing,
which means it’s a bad enemy to have. But that also means it has
plenty of resources for trade, which makes it a good friend. Not to
mention the exchange of ideas, which benefits everyone.”

“There’s so much I don’t know,” Jin said
wistfully, as they turned away from the dancers and continued along
the street.

“Well, you didn’t really have a standard
education,” Molly pointed out. “And I’m sure there are plenty of
things you know that I don’t.”

“I know about aerodynamics and flight.”

“Which I don’t. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been
able to fly an airship into Chartown, either.” She squeezed his
arm. “Everyone’s different, Jin. There’s nothing wrong with
that.”

As they strolled, she pointed out the sights
to him. A famous bridge crossed the river to one side, and on the
other was an art museum that had once been a jail for prisoners of
noble blood. A sainthouse loomed up, its steeple scraping the
clouds and its crypts full of famous dead people. Most of the
city’s municipal buildings were along the Sun Road as well,
including city hall, the hall of records, and the public
library.

The broad avenue ended abruptly in the
mountainous Xatlian temple, which towered over almost everything
else in Chartown. Some effort had been made to clean the weathered
stones; the steps leading from street level to the platform at its
peak had been scrubbed, and fresh paint adorned some of the carved
reliefs. The brass jaguars and feathered serpents that decorated
much of the temple had been polished until they shone. The gaslight
that normally illuminated it had been turned off for the occasion,
and torches lined the stair instead. The flickering flames caused
the shadows to jump, and gave the stylized animals an illusion of
movement. Some of them, he was fairly certain, were actually
moving, no doubt driven by machinery deep within the temple.