Clockwork Menagerie: A Shadows of Asphodel Novella (2 page)

The weight of silence bent his shoulders. Kneeling, he started sorting through his papers, but the formulas and numbers jumbled into nonsense. And no equation could solve the conundrum inside his heart.

Konstantin slept on his cot in the laboratory, like he did so many nights. It seemed strangely pitiful when he woke in the gray light of dawn. Dull pain squeezed his chest, no matter how many cups of coffee he drank.

He drifted outside and stared at the water with bloodshot eyes.

The Frisches Haff, a freshwater lagoon, rippled like silver silk along the coastline of Königsberg, a lace of ice edging the coast. The city still slept, only the seagulls already awake and squabbling over breakfast.

Where was Himmel now? Asleep in bed? Alone?

Maybe he had found another man. Surely an airship captain such as himself would have his pick of clandestine affairs. And in the Navy, before his promotion to zeppelin commander, who knew how many men there had been.

Konstantin held his cup in both hands and watched the waves. Damn it, he recognized the sick gnawing in the pit of his stomach—envy. He wanted Himmel to stay away from other men. He wanted him all to himself.

Even if he could never have him.

Sagging against a boulder, Konstantin pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t do this. He had a clockwork dragon to dissect. A war to win. Wearily, he straightened and poured his lukewarm coffee into the lagoon.

Back to work.

Konstantin laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles. His hands steady, he took up the blowtorch and burned the clockwork’s dragon belly. The crimson scales blackened and melted away to reveal the metal guts within.

How fascinating! The smooth interlocking steel resembled the coils of a centipede.

He donned a pair of goggles with magnifying lenses and leaned so close, his nose almost touched the enamel. Sidestepping along the length of the dragon, he stopped at its gemstone eye. With a screwdriver, he loosened the gem from its socket. When held to the light, the jewel glimmered like a golden waterfall.

Chrysoberyl, but like none he had seen before. His breath snagged in his throat.

Could it be Siberian chrysoberyl? That extremely rare mineral exhibited the Silvestrov Effect, a magical resonance being tested in experimental technomancy. Certainly a practical application for enchanted eyes.

He had never seen Siberian chrysoberyl outside of the latest scientific articles, since the Russian government kept a chokehold on its distribution. Whoever built the clockwork dragon needed approval from the Tsar himself. It would be marvelous to talk with the technomancer who engineered the dragon, but of course that would be consorting with the enemy. This war really was a shame, and a waste of perfectly—

“Archmage Konstantin!”

He jumped and pushed the goggles over his head. A lab assistant hovered nearby. Heinrich, was that his name?

“Yes, what is it?” Konstantin tried not sound irritated.

“A telegram boy just delivered this. It’s from Vienna.”

He plucked the message from the man’s sweaty hands and opened the envelope.

Urgent your presence required at embassy use utmost discretion

Konstantin squinted at the telegram. What in heaven’s name were the Archmages of Vienna scheming? Would this reassignment drag him away from the clockwork dragon? He had only just started the dissection.

If only he could hide in his laboratory. Sighing, he relinquished his goggles.

The walk to the hotel wasn’t unpleasant. Brisk wind ruffled his curls, and a begging seagull gobbled up a biscuit crumb he found lingering in his coat pocket. The gray stone exterior of the hotel was about as welcoming as one could expect from the Prussians, though at least the woman behind the desk smiled at him.

Konstantin trudged upstairs and unlocked his room. His bed looked unwrinkled, since he hadn’t slept here a single night. He rummaged in his wardrobe, found a suit, and shaved as quickly as one could with a straight razor.

When he bounded downstairs, he collided with Himmel in the hall. “Pardon!”

“Steady there.” Himmel caught his arm. “What’s the hurry?”

Konstantin retreated from his touch and eyed the captain’s uniform. “The embassy telegraphed me. Said it was urgent.”

“They asked you, too?”

“Apparently.”

They walked to the doors together. Konstantin’s heart hammered against his ribs, and he hoped Himmel didn’t notice.

What if someone had seen them kissing? What if this was an official reprimand?

Himmel whistled for a taxi. The auto slid to a stop. “Share a cab?” So he was acting as if nothing had happened between them.

Guilt gnawing at his stomach, Konstantin gave him a quick smile. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence as the taxi drove to the embassy. Himmel stared ahead like a soldier on parade. When it came time to pay, Konstantin handed the cabdriver the silver marks before Himmel could do anything chivalrous.

The Embassy of Austria-Hungary stood at the heart of Königsberg. The building looked as stiff-backed and pompous as the bureaucrats, in Konstantin’s rather unimpressed opinion. With Himmel at his side, he climbed the granite stairs and entered an echoing lobby. The secretary nudged her glasses up her nose.

“Konstantin Falkenrath.” He dipped his head. “And this is Captain Himmel.”

“Please, have a seat. The ambassador will see you shortly.”

Himmel dropped into a chair and rubbed his forehead. “Wonder what he wants.”

Konstantin swallowed, though he seemed to have stopped producing saliva. “Perhaps this has something to do with Tesla?”

“Still obsessed with that inventor?”

Konstantin coughed and looked at the ceiling.

“Gentlemen?” The ambassador sported a well-cut suit and impressive walrus mustache.

Konstantin sprang to his feet and shook the man’s hand. “Archmage Konstantin. I received your telegram this morning.”

“Baron von Bach. Austria-Hungary’s ambassador to Russia.”

“Sir.” Himmel saluted, his face a serious mask.

“And you must be our airship captain. Please, this way.” Von Bach ushered them through a door. “We have little time to lose.”

Sitting in front of the ambassador’s desk, Konstantin tried not to fidget like a schoolboy singled out by his professor. Von Bach drummed his fingers on a stack of paperwork. “As you are aware, Russia sees fit to attack us with clockwork wasps and dragons.” Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the finer points of technomancy.

Konstantin raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I need an archmage to accompany me on a critical diplomatic mission to St. Petersburg. You will act as my scientific attaché, and Captain Himmel will provide us with the freedom to observe Russia from the air.”

St. Petersburg? Russia?

Konstantin slumped his chair and blinked several times, but the ambassador’s face didn’t evaporate like a bad dream.

“Understood,” Himmel said, already taking orders.

“Sir.” Konstantin sat upright. “I’m in the middle of examining the clockwork dragon. Many experiments require—”

“I’m afraid they will have to wait. Vienna gave me the go ahead.”

“Did they?”

“This mission to Russia is our highest priority.”

Heat rushed to Konstantin’s face before draining and leaving him cold. He would have to leave the dragon to collect dust, and miss the next prototype of the Colossus, the biggest and best Eisenkrieger built to date.

But Russia…

Perhaps he could meet the dragon’s technomancer.

Konstantin squared his shoulders. “When do we leave, sir?”

Von Bach smiled. “We fly out tomorrow.”

onstantin entered the belly of the whale, walking into an airship hangar more massive than any building he had ever seen.
Steel ribs arched sixty meters overhead. Daylight glimmered on the silver skin of a zeppelin.

The
Nachitgall
, as sleek and trim as its nightingale namesake.

Himmel whistled low. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s yours to command,” Baron von Bach said.

That put a spring in Himmel’s step. He hadn’t looked this happy in weeks.

As the ground crew walked the
Nachitgall
from its hangar, Konstantin frowned at the black double-headed eagle on the zeppelin’s fins—Austria-Hungary’s coat of arms. Would the ambassador’s presence really protect them? Bombs and bullets didn’t care about diplomatic immunity. They would be leaving the safety of the Hex behind, the magic of the Archmages too far away to negate gunpowder.

“Falkenrath!” Himmel clapped him on the shoulder. “Ready?”

Konstantin faked a smile. “I hope so, Captain.”

“I love it when you call me that.”

Good lord, how could he be this shameless? Himmel grinned and steered him across the field. After the
Nachitgall
docked at a mooring mast, they climbed the stairs to its nose. Wind whistled past the gangway, stinging Konstantin’s eyes. He ducked into the zeppelin and stepped aside to let the ambassador pass.

Von Bach led them down the corridor, following the curve of the underbelly to the gondola beneath. Bamboo and canvas paneled the walls, a luxury lacked by most military airships. They stopped on the port observation deck and peered out the slanting windows. Frost glittered on the grass far below.