Clockwork Heart: Clockwork Love, Book 1 (11 page)

Cornelius lifted his head to look at his friend in disbelief. “
You
will? But you hate Johann.”

“Yes, but I love
you
.” He kissed both of Cornelius’s cheeks, then drew his handkerchief to dry Conny’s face. “Come. No need to cry in your cottage. Pull yourself together. I’ll bring in Heng and Crawley, and together we’ll convince them.”

Cornelius wasn’t yet sure that was possible. But with no other choice on his horizon, he decided it was worth a try.

* * * * *

Crawley, Heng, Olivia and Molly stood around the pallet, turning their heads sideways and staring in slow-blinking shock at Johann’s open chest. At first, they said nothing. Heng was the first to recover, though he couldn’t look away as he spoke to Cornelius. “He’s had this in him the whole time? A clockwork heart?”

Cornelius nodded. “Since he and I met, yes. His was irrevocably damaged when I found him. I stole the heart from Master Félix’s vault and fitted it inside Johann. It works well, better than a flesh heart—until it isn’t cared for properly.”

Crawley couldn’t stop shaking his head as he stared at Johann’s whirring machinery. “Why can’t I see the blood running through?”

“Oh, that’s a separate system now, one I shouldn’t have to tend to for years. But this engine here is the trouble.” Cornelius gestured to the open cavity but was careful not to touch, as he’d contaminated his hands. “I need to remove the heart, clean and oil it, and extract the infected tissue. It won’t take but an hour. Faster if I have Master Félix helping. But a Lazarus machine is required.”

Heng rubbed his beard. “And this heart is why those goons were chasing you on the docks?”

“I doubt it. No one knows it’s in him. That business seemed focused on me, and my mother.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “The English spy?”

“Double agent, but for England, yes. She was meant to be retired, but I’m beginning to think that was another one of her lies. It’s impossible to say if this is all part of her plot or if she’s been compromised. She’s involved, as the note was in her hand. But that’s all I know.”

“So they’re already looking for you, but if they find out about Johnny’s clockwork heart, they’ll look even harder.” Crawley drew a hand over his face. “I’d say I was sorry we signed you on, but you’re the best tinker I’ve ever seen in my life, and Johann is a harder worker than ever.” He nodded at Val, who stood beside Conny, looking ready to do battle as soon as he understood what people were saying. “Even Frenchie is pulling his weight, for the most part. Though I’m not sure how we save Johann, love. We’d never make it from the dock to the tinker’s shop. Especially with a gurney.”

Molly tapped her cheek. “What if we bypassed the dock entirely? Land on the roof in the dead of night. A few of us could run ahead, secure the location. Heng could arrange a distraction on the other side of town. Chimney smoke will give us decent cover for landing. If we get lucky, we might have some fog.”

Cornelius’s heart beat a little faster. “I could help with that. If we break into the alchemist shop on the south end of town, I can get the ingredients to make a smog bomb. That will alert the authorities, but if you provide a distraction farther away, they’ll focus their attention there, not on the shop.”

Valentin nudged Cornelius gently. “They are helping, yes?” he murmured in French.

“
Oui.
” Cornelius kissed his cheek. “They are. Thank you.”

Crawley looked speculatively at Valentin, then spoke in French. “You know Calais. You can help provide a distraction so Cornelius can work.”

Val nodded curtly. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done to help Conny. Only don’t try to leave me behind.”

“I’ll only leave you if you fail to meet us at the designated time.”

“No.” Conny lifted his chin. “You will bring him back. All of us. If you must leave for the rest of the crew’s safety, you’ll find a way to return for those left behind.”

Crawley grunted before turning to Heng. “Fine. Set a course for Calais. We’ll drop Valentin, Olivia and Heng on the south side. Get whatever the tinker needs for the bomb and secure a plan. We’ll give you three hours, then swing back around to prepare for the night drop.” He raised an eyebrow at Cornelius. “How much time does he have?”

Conny shrugged. “It’s difficult to say. Days, likely, but of course until I lift the heart out and gauge the degree of infection, I won’t know for sure.”

“Then we’ll work as swiftly as possible.” Crawley rose and clapped his hands. “Get to it, sailors.”

As the others filed out, Cornelius pulled Crawley aside. “A word, Captain.”

Crawley turned to face him. “What is it?”

His earnestness, even eagerness to help, was gratifying, but also unnerving. Cornelius decided to be blunt. “Why are you helping me so readily? I thought surely you would complain about going off course in the very least.” He hesitated, then came out with the rest. “If you’re thinking of turning us over to my father, he won’t pay you. He’ll take us and kill your entire crew afterward. He can’t afford any witnesses, if he’s scheming the way I suspect.”

Crawley straightened, affronted. “For all you marked up that contract, you don’t seem to have read it terribly closely. You and Johann are part of my crew. Your worthless fop of a friend as well. In addition to that, you and Johann add considerable value to my enterprise. Of course we’ll do whatever we can to help him and keep you from the despair and therefore lack of productivity you’d clearly experience at his passing.” His lips quirked in a smile. “That, and I suspect you’ll want to make off with all manner of tools and supplies you keep carping about regretting having to leave in your workshop. The idea of you being able to tinker even
better
than you do now would be worth scaling a mountain for.”

Cornelius hadn’t even thought of his lost tools, but now a hot rush of pleasure filled him at the very possibility of their retrieval. “Master Félix will let us take other items as well, if we approach him correctly. Perhaps we could organize some kind of trade. He’s always asking for parts from Italy. If he outfitted us with enough upgrades to sail south, we could bring him some of those directly and save him smuggler’s fees.”

“
Now
you’re thinking like a pirate.” Crawley chucked his chin, his smile sliding to wan. “Don’t fret. We’ll get your lover sorted. But then your first job is to straighten out the mess between you two, do you hear? He can be sore all he likes about his clockwork, but anything beats dead. A good lay ought to put you both to rights. Or at least provide distraction while the kinks work out on their own. I’ll even lend you my cabin, though as a general rule we use the storeroom when we want to get each other off.”

Cornelius blushed, unwilling to admit he had yet to do more than trade kisses and gropes with Johann. “Thank you.” He took Crawley’s hand and kissed the back of his knuckles. “You’re a good captain, Crawley. And an incomparable man.”

“Don’t waste your breath buttering me up. Sew my sailor back together and ready yourself for a raid.” He winked as he headed to the door. “Though once you kiss and make up, I’m not at all opposed to joining the two of you in my cabin. A little spice makes everything nice, as they say.”

Cornelius wasn’t sure he wanted to take the captain to a bed he shared with Johann. But the teasing remark did make him smile, lifting his spirits just a bit higher as he boiled more water to wash his hands and sew Johann up for transport.

Chapter Nine

Johann’s
dreams were strange.

He dreamed he was back in the Austrian Army, but he went this time as a clockwork man. All the soldiers were automatons, and they marched endlessly together through mud and cold, toward an unnamed front of an undisclosed war. Johann’s dream clockwork ached, chafing at the points of contact in a way Cornelius’s never did. But Cornelius was nowhere in this dream.

A general stood at the top of the hill, barking out orders in German. The sky rained steadily, soaking Johann to the bone, but the general stood beneath a tent, protected from the elements and further warmed by a brazier. “March on, march on,” he shouted, pausing only to accept a plate of sausages or glass of wine from a servant. Meanwhile,
march
was all Johann and the other soldiers did. Endlessly. Obediently. Occasionally someone would drop dead, and a great mechanical arm would whisk them away before bringing another clockwork soldier to put in the fallen man’s place. They weren’t brought food or water or even told where they were going or why. Only that they should march on.

Johann noticed they weren’t alone on the hill. French soldiers trudged on the other side—they were clockwork too, though their mechanical parts looked slightly different. There were less of these soldiers, and they moved more smoothly, but they proceeded much the same. Archduke Guillory himself stood on their side of the incline, his tent more grand than the Austrian general’s. He urged his soldiers to march, between nibbles on turkey legs and mouthfuls of fruit and swigs of brandy. Occasionally he paused to motion to the Austrian general, passing him some food or whispering an exchange that made them both laugh. Then they both returned to their barked orders.

March on. March on. March on.

After what felt like days, Johann knew he couldn’t continue. He did his best to fight, because he didn’t know where the crane took the soldiers, but of course eventually he fell and it came for him too. Except as it hoisted him away from the hill toward a fiery factory,
The Brass Farthing
broke through the clouds, and Crawley addressed Johann from his perch on the rope ladder.

“Come on, lad. Fight.”

For a moment the battlefield vanished. Johann flew through the air, the
Farthing
floating above him. Crawley wasn’t on a ladder, but rather straddling a wide pallet upon which Johann lay. The captain clung to a set of ropes as they swung back and forth across a night sky.

Crawley stared hard at Johann a moment longer, then nodded to someone beyond Johann’s line of sight. “He’s still with us. Though I think it might be best we get him through the roof and onto that Lazarus as quickly as possible.”

“I can see Master Félix waving to us from below.”

Cornelius.
Johann turned toward the sound of his voice, but the simple effort seemed beyond him. His chest hurt, and when he moved anything but his head, he ached all over.

Then Cornelius was there, crouching over him and touching Johann’s face in concern. “Quiet now, darling. I’m going to put you to rights.”

He lowered an aether mask over Johann’s face, and the dream returned. The great crane plucked Johann out of the sky and swung him onto the battlefield again.

Johann marched with the others, but now he scanned the skies for the pirate ship. He saw nothing, not even the moon or stars, only the endless fog of war. He tasted saltpeter and ash. He smelled death and rot. He felt the ache of his clockwork as it ground on and on. From the top of the hill, the general and the archduke joked and laughed with one another, while below them sergeants commanded the soldiers.

I will not march.

“I will not march for you!”

Johann fought through the line, scaling the boulders separating the armies. He shouted at the general, at the archduke, at the world. He tore down their tents, sending them and their pampered servants and officers careening down the hillsides. He felt warmth seep through his chest, and when he looked down, his clockwork heart glowed proudly behind its flesh wall.

“Johann.”

Looking up from the top of the windy hill, he saw the
Farthing
flying close once more, sluicing through the rain. Cornelius stood on the deck, motioning to Johann. But they were too far away for Johann to reach. “Fly closer,” he called to the
Farthing
.

The
Farthing
remained where it was, however. If anything, it seemed to be moving the other direction.

“
No
.” Johann ran toward the airship, down the hill to the battlefield, shoving soldiers from both sides aside as he tried to reach Cornelius’s side. But the soldiers were too thick, and the
Farthing
kept moving farther away.

When Johann cried out again, he was back on the pallet, the world swaying crazily, the air full of smoke. He saw Cornelius and reached for him, tried to call his name. But he felt heavy and sick, and his body would not respond to his commands.

Cornelius clung to one of the ropes holding the pallet aloft. He looked worried as he spoke to Crawley. “Did they see us? What do we do if we’re discovered? I need time to operate, but if they come in while I have him open—”

“Don’t worry about such things. Trust Heng and Olivia to know their business. And Val too. I never thought we’d have use for a fop, but by God, Frenchie knows how to flounce about and keep the police occupied. He has an incredible knack for how far he can annoy them without getting tossed in jail.”

“I’m so nervous.” Cornelius wiped his eyes with his fingers, but tears stained his cheeks all the same. “I worry I let it go too long and I won’t be able to save him.”

“You’ll make it work.” Crawley glanced at Johann, then startled. “Christ, he’s awake again. How does he do that? You’ve given him enough aether to kill a man.”

“It’s the heart, I think.” Cornelius knelt beside Johann, touching his face as he studied him. “Darling, try to sleep. Don’t fight it. Rest, and let me heal you.”

The mask came back, and Johann tumbled once more onto the battlefield. This time he stood on the top of a cliff, and the
Farthing
sailed right for him. He could see Cornelius on the ladder, arm outstretched, his smile wide and welcoming, full of love.

Cannons fired below. The battlefield had shifted, and all their focus was on the
Farthing
now. One cannonball to the balloon and it would be over. They could easily move out of range—but that would take them away from Johann.

“Go back in the ship!” It made Johann ache to send Conny away, but he could not watch him die. “Go up the ladder, where you’re safe.”

Cornelius wouldn’t leave. He stayed on the ladder, kept holding out his hand. “Come to me, darling. Come be safe
with
me. Let us be together, forever.”

Johann wanted that more than he wanted anything in the world. “I can’t reach you. You’re too far away.”

A cannon went off, making the earth shake, but Cornelius only grinned at Johann, unfazed. “Run to me, Johann. Run like the wind. You can outrun the bullets, the cannon shot. With your clockwork legs, you can leap from that cliff and land surefooted in the valley below. Leap, darling. Fly through the air, and come to me. Show them all how wonderful you are.”

Johann ran. He leapt though the air, and just as Cornelius said, when he hit the ground, his legs didn’t falter. They bore him forward, faster and faster though the night sky. The world lit up with artillery fire, but Johann moved through it all as if none of it mattered. It didn’t. The only thing in the world he cared about was the man beckoning to him from the pirate ship waiting to take him home.

“Come to me, Johann,” Cornelius called, smiling.

His clockwork heart whirring with happiness, Johann pushed a cannonball aside and flew into his lover’s arms.

* * * * *

The entirety of the tinker shop was in shambles.

When Heng and Olivia had reported back to the
Farthing
with supplies for the bomb, they’d spoken of soldiers in the streets, of shuttered storefronts, of raided cafes. Secret police without insignia of any kind moved from building to building. But for Cornelius, seeing the tinker shop firsthand was heartbreaking. Every shelf had been ransacked, much of the clockwork on display broken or outright confiscated by the soldiers.

Master Félix welcomed the pirates’ arrival, though he’d papered the upstairs windows in anticipation of their visit to block out their surgery lamps because he was closely watched. His condition for helping them wasn’t the promise of supplies from Italy, either.
He
wanted to go to Italy. In return, the pirates were free to take what they liked from his shop.

Conny hadn’t let Olivia or Heng explain why they were coming, though he himself came clean as soon as they’d lowered Johann through the skylight. To his surprise, Félix wasn’t upset at all.

“I might have been upset if I’d found out before, but now I’m only relieved. If you hadn’t taken it, lad, you and I and that heart would be locked in a castle somewhere right now, forced to replicate it and install it in the bodies of your father’s favorite soldiers.” He flicked a gnarled finger against the unconscious Johann’s chest. “Besides, I’m curious to see how it’s fared in its first trial.”

Cornelius had wanted to know more about Félix’s confirmation it was indeed his father behind the quest for the heart, but they didn’t have time, not until they saw to Johann’s heart.

They worked the surgery together, Félix cleaning the mechanism while Cornelius saw to the infection in Johann’s body cavity. It was mild, which was a relief, but it also meant the greater issue was with the heart itself.

“It needs to be calibrated to the individual and the tasks undertaken.” Félix pointed out a set of intricate, tiny gears. “When his greatest exertion was wandering about Calais and flirting with you, this setting was adequate. But if he’s running faster than a horse and hauling rigging on an airship, he requires a different baseline setting. And more maintenance.”

Cornelius grimaced at the obviousness of this diagnosis. “I feel ridiculous for not thinking of that.”

“Seems to me you’ve had plenty of other business to occupy yourself with.”

They were interrupted by Johann’s cry, and preparations stopped while Cornelius yet again gave him gas to subdue him. Once that was seen to, they put Johann’s pallet on the Lazarus machine, and Félix and Cornelius washed up and dressed for surgery.

With the two of them, it went quickly and easily, at least in so far as opening Johann up, hooking him to the Lazarus and removing his heart. Félix put it in a bath of alcohol and pored over it as Cornelius dealt with the infected tissue in Johann’s chest cavity. In the middle of it, though, Johann briefly woke once more.

“How the devil does he keep doing that?” the captain asked as he pressed the mask to Johann’s face at Cornelius’s direction. “I know you said it’s the clockwork heart, but
that
is currently sitting in a tray.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Félix looked up from his work, his bald crown and thick white hair and beard making him look like a half-spent dandelion. “The boy is wired for the heart. It changes everything.”

“Yes.” Cornelius touched Johann’s arm as he settled back into sleep. “Right now the Lazarus machine is replacing the clockwork heart’s function—not a flesh heart, but the clockwork. His patterns have altered. The heart has become part of Johann, situating itself to him. Changing him. It’s made Johann stronger. It’s only a machine, but its superior functionality has allowed his body to put its efforts elsewhere instead of maintaining it. While this always happens with clockwork replacements, the level of improvement the heart has allowed is remarkable.
Johann
is remarkable. It’s a testament to his genetics and to his life force what he’s been able to do with his clockwork.”

Crawley huffed. “Ah. Now I see why the army is so set on getting your heart, Conny.”

“It isn’t mine,” Cornelius replied. “It isn’t even Master Félix’s any longer. It’s Johann’s heart. And I’ll gut anyone who tries to take it from him.”

They worked as quickly as they could to put Johann back together. Once the heart was cleaned and the infection dealt with, the rest of the surgery went smoothly. Félix said he wanted to take another, longer look at it when they were in Italy, but for the moment Johann was out of the woods and hale enough for a long journey. Molly escorted the sleeping Johann back to the ship, and once that was done, Cornelius and Félix helped Crawley disassemble the tinker shop.

They took the Lazarus machine in pieces—it hadn’t been Conny’s priority initially, but it was clear the device would be crucial in maintaining Johann, and so up it went. Conny had them empty out his room almost entirely of everything the police hadn’t destroyed and some of what they had. They did the same for the surgery as well, and all of their supplies. Every vial and jar of medicine, every test tube and gas burner, his reference books—everything went up the hoist onto the
Farthing
that could be used or repaired.

Félix kept his personal acquisitions down to three small suitcases and a large trunk. When Crawley insisted they’d make room for his valuables, Félix only tapped the side of his head. “This is my most precious cargo. I can make any tool I need. In any event, I intend to drink a lot of wine and flirt with pretty Italian ladies and tinker in the Milani family’s shed. I happily surrender grander pursuits to my apprentice.”

Once the upstairs was cleared, they dug into the first floor. Félix and Cornelius directed Crawley to the most valuable and versatile bits of clockwork and supplies, but once that was done, the goal was to make off with as much as the
Farthing
could carry before the secret police arrived. Master Félix, less nimble on a ladder if they needed to flee in a hurry, retired to the ship and made himself busy improving the engine to more efficiently haul so much weight. Cornelius stayed below, assisting in selection and warning Crawley off items not worth the burden. The captain loved, he soon discovered, anything that looked flashy, filled with gears and wires. He often paused to effuse over this or that bit of junk which Crawley insisted would look a treat on the side of the ship or on their hat, or sewn into their lapel.