Clockwork Heart (34 page)

“Can you tell me anything else about the Alzanans?” Taya asked quickly, in Demican.

“They spoke often about a bombing.” The Demican shrugged. “Bombs are no better than guns. They are both cowardly ways to kill.”

The lictor was standing, one hand dropping to the pistol at her belt. Taya hopped backward on her crutches.

“I agree,” she said, in Demican, then added in Ondinan, “I'm leaving, I'm leaving.”

“What were you talking about?” the woman asked, her expression full of suspicion.

“Spirits, scavengers, and guns.” Taya glanced at the woman's weapon. “Demicans think firearms are a coward's weapon.”

“I don't give a damn what Demicans think.”

“No reason why you should.” Taya nodded to the prisoner, then limped out, feeling the back of her neck crawl under the lictor's glare.

Gregor helped her back into the coach.

“Do you know a bar with a red door in Slagside?” Taya asked, setting her crutches by her.

“Slagside, is it? There ain't much call for hacks down there, even where the roads would be wide enough for one. You've no desire to go there, now, do you?”

“Maybe.” Taya sighed. “Do you know anyone familiar with the bars in Slagside?”

“No, not a one.” Gregor shrugged. “People who pass their time in Slagside ain't people I care to count as friends. Smugglers, thieves, and cutthroats all.”

“Surely not all of them.”

“Enough of 'em for it to be a bad place for an outsider to visit. A pretty girl on crutches, especially, don't you think?”

“Then do you know the Pickled Thalassonaut?”

“The only danger you'll be facing there is being bored to death. Be that our next stop, then?”

“If you don't mind. And I'll pay for your meal there, too, because I'll probably stay a while.”

“Fine with me. Bolt and I could use a rest, the two of us could.” Gregor closed the door and climbed back to the driver's seat.

Chapter Sixteen

Taya found Alister's programming team, with the notable and worrisome exception of Kyle, desultorily arguing about a new program and keeping a close eye on the door. She left Gregor to tend Bolt and joined their table. It didn't escape her that the other programmers in the bar were watching Alister's team with open suspicion.

With the exception of Kyle's possible kidnapping, Taya filled them in on everything she'd learned.

“Slagside, huh?” Victor asked, his eyes narrowing. “Dangerous place.”

“It's not much of a lead,” she admitted, “but it might be worth looking into. Assuming the Alzanans
are
involved.”

“Give me half an hour.” The programmer stood, then stopped. Taya followed his gaze and saw Pyke and Cassi walking in, holding her armature and flight suit.

“You got it!” Taya leaped to her feet, then dropped back into her chair again with a wince. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Pyke was staring at Victor. The two men held each other's gaze, and then the icarus looked away, maneuvering the floating armature through the tavern to her table. “I signed out for it, too, so if you break it again, I'll have to answer to my uncle.”

“I won't break it,” Taya promised, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

“Better not.”

“Hey, watch it,” a programmer at another table growled, ducking Cassi's wings as she maneuvered around to join them. “This isn't a bird bar.”

“Mouth off and you'll never get a letter again, punch jockey,” Cassi retorted, leaning on the back of Taya's chair. She addressed her friend. “We're off work now.”

“Good. Join us.” Taya made the introductions, then stood to inspect her armature.

“We've met,” Pyke said, nodding to Victor.

“Taya was asking about a bar in Slagside.” Victor paused. “If we're heading down there, I've got a contact who might be able to help. A friend interested in inquiry and liberation, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, Lady save us, they're both conspirators,” Cassi groaned. “If you two are going to talk spook stuff, do it outside.”

“I'm so glad somebody else thinks that's way outside normal operating parameters,” Isobel said, reaching across the table and offering her hand. “If you get Victor started on politics, he'll rant for hours.”

“Pyke's the same,” Cassi said, shaking hands with her.

“Pyke!” Taya said. “There's a hack outside, driven by a man named Gregor. He can take you and Victor on my tab, if you've got a long way to go.”

Pyke nodded, deep in conversation with the dour programmer.

“I wonder where they're off to,” Emelie said as they walked out together. “We don't need any more political trouble.”

“Politics is always trouble,” Lars muttered.

Cassi waved to the bartender for another pitcher. Meanwhile, Taya tethered her floating armature to a tableleg and inspected her flight suit. The physicians had exacerbated the damage Cristof had started, slicing the suit's leg open to help her out of it the day before.

“Do you think this can be fixed?” she asked, fingering the damage.

“Probably not.” Cassi poured her a beer. “But as long as you aren't going airborne, a torn leg won't matter.”

“I guess not.” Taya sighed, running a hand over the oiled leather. “I liked this suit, though.”

“Get the top cut into a jacket.” Cassi grinned and stroked the fur draped over the back of Taya's chair. “Then I can borrow this.”

“So, why are you icarii here, anyway?” Emelie asked, in a challenging tone.

“Taya said we might be able to help find the you-know-what,” Cassi replied. “And I've never been in here before. It never hurts to try a new bar, even a punch-jockey bar.”

“I don't understand why Kyle hasn't shown up yet,” Lars sighed. “Do you think Vic was right? Could he have been working with the thieves?”

“All Victor said was that Kyle was a suspect,” Taya corrected, hating her inability to tell him everything. “Kyle struck me as an honest, responsible man. I don't think he's a spy.”

“No, but I would have said that about Alister, too. I was thinking…”

“What?”

“What if Kyle got there before me and ran into them? Maybe they did something to him.”

Taya's hands tightened around her metal tankard.

“If they did,” she said, choosing her words with care, “he'd be too valuable to hurt. Anyone who wants an analytical engine will want a programmer.”

“Yeah, that's true.” The big man looked hopeful. “And Kyle's smart enough to let them know that, too. So if the lictors find the engine—”

“They might find Kyle, too. If the thieves have him. But he could be someplace else, couldn't he? Visiting family, or a girlfriend or something?” Taya echoed Cristof's words.

“Nah, Izzy asked at his brother's house. They haven't seen him.”

“And the only person Kyle likes is you, Lars,” Emelie said, standing. “This is depressing. I'm leaving.”

“Are you sure?” Taya asked. “Cris — Exalted Forlore said he'd stop by tonight, if he can, to tell us how the investigation is going.”

Emelie vacillated, then shrugged.

“Maybe I'll stop by later. But I've got things to do.”

“We'll send a message to your flat if anything changes,” Isobel said. Emelie nodded and walked off, buttoning her coat. The tall blonde turned and patted Lars on the shoulder. “Cheer up. It'll be all right. A lot of people are looking for him.”

They sat around drinking and talking for another hour. Taya excused herself for a few minutes and went into a back room to change into her flight suit. She felt better wearing it, even if one leg flapped. By the time the city clocks struck six, Victor and Pyke had returned, looking satisfied and paying for Gregor's delayed meal. The coachman sat at a table by the door, keeping an eye on his hack, while the two men rejoined them.

“Where's Em?” Victor asked, dropping into a chair.

“She went home,” Isobel said. “She said she might be back later.”

“Did you find out anything about the red door?” Taya asked.

“Nothing useful.”

Disappointed, Taya slumped in her chair, then glanced up as the conversations around them died.

“We are not here to arrest anybody,” Lieutenant Amcathra announced, walking in. The bar's patrons muttered, then fell silent again as Cristof followed the lictor. A few made awkward bows. Others just stared with shock at the exalted's naked face.

The two men brushed past the tables and joined them. The team and Cassi bowed. Pyke waved a hand vaguely in front of his face. Cristof ignored them all.

“You have your wings again.” He sounded disapproving as he dropped his hands on the back of Taya's chair. “I thought the doctor said you were grounded.”

“Oooh, the outcaste's bossy, as well as a prude,” Cassi said, her voice carrying as she stared Cristof in the eye.

Cristof's lips tightened, and Taya realized that everyone around the table was staring at him with various degrees of interest. A number of programmers at the other tables were gaping, too.

The outcaste and the icarus locked gazes. At last Cristof gave the same low, irritable noise that Taya recognized from their arguments past.

“I'm also a slagging pain in the tailset and very rarely sweet. Do you have a problem with that, Icarus?”

“‘Rarely' sweet,” Taya corrected. “You've worked your way up to ‘rarely,' remember?”

The tension broke, and Cassi rolled her eyes while the others chuckled.

“‘Sweet' is a side of you I have not seen, Exalted,” Lieutenant Amcathra remarked, deadpan. “I have, however, noticed the other three traits.”

“Then he
is
a prude,” Cassi said, triumphantly.

Cristof leaned over the chair and gave Taya a faint, crooked smile.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in a low voice.

“All right. We've got some news and maybe even a lead or two.”

“So do we. Why does your friend think I'm a prude?”

“Because you were asking about my former boyfriends.”

“Oh.” He glanced across the table at Cassi. “I should have known she'd talk.”

“Not all the stereotypes about icarii are true, you know.”

“I just wanted to know how many jealous exes I'll have to deal with.”

Taya flushed, not sure whether to be annoyed or flattered. “The only person you need to worry about is Cassi. She'll make your life hell if she doesn't like you.”

“Lady help me.” He brushed a finger down her cheek, then straightened as Lars hoisted two chairs over the table for the newcomers. The rest of the patrons in the bar were being incrementally shoved back to the walls.

“We cannot stay long,” Amcathra objected, looking around. His eyes settled on Taya. “We have come here to pick you up.”

“The Council approved Alister's reduced sentence,” Cristof said, his voice tense with excitement. “I think it's the fastest I've ever seen them move.”

“Cris.” Taya felt her heart leap, and she gave him a smile of pure relief. Viera would be furious, and Alister probably didn't deserve to live, but Taya couldn't help but be happy for Cristof's sake. “That's great.”

“Reduced to what?” Isobel asked.

“Blinding and exile,” Lieutenant Amcathra replied. “Some people would call the sentence worse than death.”

“Not Alister.” Taya touched Cristof's arm, and he nodded.

“So.” Lars sighed. “I guess that's good, then.”

“It's good,” Victor agreed. “But a lot of citizens are going to call it favoritism.”

“Damn right it's favoritism,” Pyke growled. “Doesn't sound to me like they even paused to discuss it. I hope the Council's ready for the backlash.”

“Did you get the information you needed?” Taya asked, to forestall Cristof's irritation.

“We're on our way to see him now,” he said, giving Pyke a hard look before glancing back at her. “I thought you'd want to be there.”

“Us, too,” Lars said, standing. “We're his friends.”

“We are visiting the exalted to discuss a criminal investigation, not to celebrate his successful blackmail of the Oporphyr Council,” Amcathra said, chillingly.

“Sure, but it's a criminal investigation in which we're the primary suspects,” the big man objected.

“Do you have any valid reason to exclude us?” Victor demanded.

“You, of all people, should not annoy me, Mister Kiernan.”

Victor and Pyke traded quick looks, and Taya winced. What were they involved in, anyway?

“I might be more help than you think,” Victor countered.

“We all know what's going on,” Cassi pointed out. “And we all want to get the you-know-what back. You might as well make us useful, or we'll just hang around outside the station and follow you everywhere you go.”

“I cannot stop you from doing that,” Amcathra admitted. “But perhaps when it grows late and cold you will lose your enthusiasm.”

“Keep hoping,” Isobel said, smiling. Amcathra glanced at her, then inclined his head in acknowledgement of their shared northern heritage. Still, his next words were directed to Taya.

“Come, if you wish to accompany us.”

“Absolutely.” She untethered her armature and put it on. “Gregor's waiting for us, Lieutenant.”

“I'm afraid we've hired him away from you,” Victor cut in. He gave her a significant look. “I'll pay for a different coach, if you need one.”

“I'll take care of it,” Cristof interrupted with a frown. Taya wanted to ask more questions, but the closed expressions on Victor's and Pyke's faces were enough to make her stay silent. They were up to something, and they'd gotten Gregor involved. She grabbed her crutches and fur cloak.

They reached the Secundus headquarters in twenty minutes. Pyke and Cassi were already at the station, perched on the back of one of the iron benches by the street. Gaslight from the street lamps glimmered off their silver wings.

“Show-offs,” Taya muttered, sticking her tongue out at them. Cassi winked.

“How's Viera?” Cristof asked, holding the door open as Taya ducked through. Amcathra strode up to Captain Scarios, handing him a formal-looking document.

“She's still angry.” Taya set one of her crutches by the door. With her wings, she could maneuver with one. “Did you learn anything about the crates and wagon?”

“We confirmed that something heavy went by on Froshcourse a little before midnight, and we're pretty certain the wagon passed through the sector gate to Tertius around ten in the morning. The hounds lost the scent after the wagon left the university gates. Military icarii are checking Safira train station and the mountain roads in case the wagon already left the city, but security's been high ever since the bomb went off on the Tower ferry, so it's more likely that the thieves are lying low.”

“Risky,” Taya said. “Someone could find them.”

“They'd be taking a risk either way; they have to know we'd monitor the roads and rails as soon we discovered the theft. Fortunately, the weather's in our favor. They have to leave Ondinium within the next two months, before the passes close. We can step up security until then.”

“But what about Kyle?”

Cristof pushed up his glasses, looking at the two lictors. “He's one of the reasons the Council agreed to Alister's deal. Kyle's one of the city's top programmers, now that Alister has been arrested.”

“What were the other reasons?”

“The prototype's important, and they want Alister's information about the Alzanan spy network.”

Taya sensed from the way he was avoiding her gaze that he wasn't telling her everything.
Lies of omission
, she reminded herself.