The 7th of London (38 page)

“I could argue with that, but where would it get me?” Silas responded. “You are truly all right with this?”

“I’ve learned to play the hand I’m dealt, Silas. I missed Carrington when he ‘died’. I didn’t think I’d survive not having him to guide me. But I did. Not to sound overly self-aggrandizing, but now, we’re equals. I’m too glad to have him back to be angry with him. Especially after all this time to come to terms with my feelings.”

Silas didn’t respond immediately, thinking about the opinions Heph expressed. He really was an amazing man. Not only had he overcome dismemberment but the emotional hang-ups that should inevitably follow. Silas felt a bit of the awkwardness he’d felt with Waverly the day before, wanting to ask a question but unable to.

“Just because I understand and have come to terms with Carrington’s actions doesn’t mean that I approve. Had the tables been turned, I would have done everything in my power to stay with my apprentice and insure both our safety.” Heph reached out a hand and grasped Silas by the back of the neck. “So quit worrying. We’re in this together, no matter what.”

“I wasn’t,” Silas sputtered. “I didn’t doubt you. I never would.”

“I’m not Carrington,” Heph reassured him.

“I know that,” Silas said dismissively. He snorted a chuckle. “It’s good to know that you’re all right.”

“Right as rain, my friend.”

“Good. Would you take a look at this? I need your opinion.” Silas indicated a project laid out on the workbench.

“This looks a bit like your outer-skeleton.” Heph ran his hands over the joints, gears and bands. “It’s smaller. More compact. You’ve refined the strength-amplifying counterbands. This doesn’t look like it will fit you.”

“I have refined it. And it’s not for me.” Silas beamed proudly.

“Seven?” Heph guessed shrewdly. “How long have you been working on this?”

“A few weeks,” Silas answered. “I want to test it before I give it to him. His old friend Waverly is supposed to come ’round this morning. They’re about the same size. I thought I’d get him to give it a try, make sure it’s in proper order.”

Heph nodded. “Silas.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m glad you and Seven have become friends. It’s nice to have someone, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Silas blushed. “I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” Heph answered with a smile. “He’s definitely one of a kind, no doubt about it.” A contemplative look colored Heph’s face. “I’d be remiss as your friend if I didn’t offer a small caveat, Silas. I know you feel very deeply for him, and I can tell he shares similar feelings for you, but I think you should be cautious.”

“I know we had our doubts about him when he first crossed our path, but I think he’s proven himself as a loyal and trustworthy ally.”

“I would never dispute that.” Heph raised his hands to show he meant no offense. “In fact, I’ll be the first to admit he’s been an invaluable asset to our cause. But there is a—” Heph paused as if to find the proper word. “—darkness somewhere in his past that has soured him. Has he revealed it to you?”

“He has. It was awful,” Silas choked out. “He told me everything.”

“Maybe there’s hope for him after all, if he can open up and share something like that with you. That’s promising. Still.” Heph hesitated. “You can never be too careful. I don’t believe he’d ever hurt you or anyone he counted as a friend, for that matter, but the darkness is still there.”

“I know, but I think I can help him overcome it.”

“I hope you can, Silas, I truly do.”

“I’m confident. After all”—Silas placed a hand on Heph’s shoulder where metal married flesh—“you overcame a darkness most couldn’t, and you’re one of the best men I’ve ever known.”

“I suppose you have a point there. Judge not,” Heph responded. “Although I didn’t do it alone either. I had Muriel.”

“You and Murry?” Silas asked, eyes wide with shock. He’d never seen Heph and Muriel ever show any kind of affection toward one another, at least not in any kind of romantic manner. “I had no idea.”

“What? No.” Heph laughed, waving away Silas’s surprise. “Not in that way. She was my best friend when I most needed one. Without her, I might have become a very different man indeed.”

“I should let you get back—” Silas stopped talking abruptly. “What’s that noise?” The booming thump of metal resounded through the underground city.

“The acoustics down here are impossible. It could be coming from anywhere.” Heph ran to a window and looked out. Over his shoulder, Silas saw children running through the streets toward the lift to the entrance. “What’s going on?” Heph called down.

“Something banging on the door!” a girl’s voice called back.

“Silas, do you have a spyglass in here?” Heph leaned out the window, looking toward the entryway.

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Silas ran to his bench and pulled open drawers. He found it and ran it back to Hephaestus.

“Good man,” Heph stated, opening the glass, and put it to his eye. “Bloody hell. We’re under attack!” Heph dropped the spyglass into Silas’s hand as he dashed past to the lift. “I have to get to the loudspeaker. Warn everyone.” He threw the lift gate shut. “Where’s Tesla? Faraday?”

“Uh, warehouse, I believe.”

“Good.” The lift ascended to Heph’s office. “Damn my arrogance,” Heph cursed himself. Silas couldn’t hear the rest over the sound of the lift and the incessant banging. He pressed his eye to the spyglass, training it on the entrance. A crowd had already gathered around the entry lift landing, staring up at the hole in the ceiling. With the lift at the bottom of its chain, Silas could see through that hole into the chamber above. Some industrious individuals braced the door. Impossibly, the thick metal portal shook in its stone moorings. Dust rained down from the ceiling. Heph’s voice echoed over the loudspeaker warning the inhabitants to arm themselves and stay inside. Silas was about to put the glass down and do just that when the door burst inward like a discarded jam lid.

A few of the children gathered were crushed instantly by the enormous projectile. When the dust and smoke settled, Waverly appeared. He looked like he’d been beaten to death, bloodied with bruises and injuries to his torso. Silas wondered how he could even be standing.

Fervis stepped through the gaping hole left by the missing door. He held Waverly in front of him like a shield in one hand. In the other he held a nasty looking pistol. Silas recognized it from Sev’s story. Men joined him. They were all armed to the teeth: pistols, rifles, and weapons Silas didn’t recognize.

Winston Biggersham had been guarding the door, and he stepped up, spreading his arms. Silas couldn’t hear what the boy was saying, but he heard the gunshot when Fervis fired at him, saw Winston crumple, and that’s when all hell broke loose. The children nearest the door attacked with whatever they could find—stones, rubble from the door. The tower lift rattled to life.

“Run!” Carrington’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “Do not engage! Retreat! Run!” Silas dropped the spyglass. He heard it shatter but didn’t care as he grabbed as many weapons as he could carry before the lift reached his floor. He ran to the shaft and called out for Heph to open the door.

“Don’t stop! Just open the door!” When the lift appeared, the door was open, and Silas dove in. “How?”

“I’m a fool. I thought we were untouchable here.”

“It’s not your fault. None of us predicted this.”

“Damn that man!” Heph slammed his hand against the iron bars of the lift. “Did you see what he did to that boy?” Silas nodded.

The lift finally reached the base of the tower, and Heph shoved the door open and dashed out. Silas chased after him. The two men pounded through the streets with Carrington’s voice shouting over their heads for everyone to retreat, to hide. Fervis and his men breached the first group of children, summoned the entry-lift, and began their descent. They fired before they’d even reached the bottom.

Unsurprisingly, many of the children ignored Heph’s warning, running full speed toward the fight with whatever weapons they could lay their hands on. Hephaestus yelled for them to stop and return to their homes. Silas understood their defiance. This
was
their home, and they were determined to defend it.

Silas heard intermittent gunfire and pushed himself to run faster. They approached the entry, where many of the children had taken up refuge in the apartments bordering the stairs, sheltering from the gunfire. Too many more lay dead on the cold, black stone. Heph and Silas flattened themselves against a wall until they could dive into one of the dwellings. A few boys with pistols fired out the window. “Get down and hold your fire,” Heph ordered. He called out to the other apartments as well.

“Who’s that?” Fervis shouted. The lift traveled back up for another batch of Fervis’s men.

“My name is Hephaestus Kildeggan. This is my home. Why have you forced your way in here? Why do you fire on my people without provocation?”

“Without provocation? You’re harboring a fugitive. We’ve come to collect him,” the invader answered.

“Seven,” Silas whispered, his suspicions confirmed.

“We harbor no fugitives. We have no quarrel with you. Take your men and go.”

“Do you think me a fool, Kildeggan?” Fervis returned. “I don’t know what you’ve got going on down here, and frankly, I don’t care. There’s a boy down here who owes me a great debt. He calls himself Seven, and I mean to collect.”

“Seven isn’t here,” Silas called out.

“Who’s that?” Fervis asked. “You sound familiar.”

“It’s Kettlebent.”

“Nice try!” Fervis’s laugh echoed. “This isn’t a negotiation. I want Seven. You will give him to me. If you don’t, we’ll kill every last one of you until we find him. Simple.”

“The majority of the people down here are innocent children,” Heph countered.

“What’s your point, Kildeggan?”

“Bastard,” Heph spat. “He’s a damned monster.”

“There’s no reasoning with him,” Silas stated.

“We couldn’t give him Seven even if we wanted to.” Heph rubbed his face. “Can you see how many men he has?” he asked one of the boys near the window.

“There’s at least thirty that I can see. Maybe more still in the tunnel.”

“Damn. They’re outnumbered, but we’re outgunned.” Heph exhaled, and then he shouted, “We do not have the boy called Seven.”

“I’m afraid you don’t realize how serious this matter is, Kildeggan,” Fervis responded. “Please step outside.”

“Don’t do it,” Silas whispered fervently. The rest of the children in the dwelling agreed.

“I have to,” Heph told them. “It’s my duty, my responsibility.”

“Heph,” Silas pleaded.

“Hold your fire,” Heph shouted. “I’m coming out.” He reached one hand out the door. Silas expected a bullet but only heard silence. Heph showed his other hand to prove he wasn’t armed, then stepped outside.

“Mr. Kildeggan, I presume?”

“Lord Fervis,” Heph greeted the man.

“I’m not an unreasonable man, Mr. Kildeggan.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Ha. Touché. You seem like an intelligent man, Mr. Kildeggan.”

“I like to think so,” Heph answered.

“Good. Give me Seven. We will leave. You will live.”

“I can’t give you something I do not have.”

“This is me being reasonable; you have one more chance to relinquish Seven, or I will kill every person in the dwelling on your right.”

Silas saw Hephaestus glance to his right. The boy in the doorway shook his head, mouthing the words, “He’s a nutter.” Silas had to admit, the claim seemed a boast. How could they kill through walls?

Heph must have thought the same thing. “I’m sorry, Fervis. I can’t give you what you want.”

“You were warned,” Fervis said. “Kill them.” Silas stole a look through the window. A dark, swarthy man in the telltale bowler stepped up with a pipe on his shoulder. It looked like a bit of plumbing with a rifle sight. He pressed a button and something that looked like a smoking potato shot out of the pipe. Silas’s first thought was the poison apples Heph had designed. The projectile sailed cleanly into the window of the apartment across the street.

Silence followed, and everyone looked about, perplexed. “Was that it?” Silas asked. The words were barely out of his mouth when the dwelling erupted with a spectacular explosion of fire and shards of black stone. Kildeggan was tossed to the side by the force of the blast. He crawled back into the little dwelling. Silas was suddenly aware of their vulnerability.

“Do I have your attention? I’m sure I do. If you don’t turn Seven over in the next ten minutes, I will bring this city down around your ears. Your time starts now.”

No one moved. They didn’t doubt him, but neither did they want to expose themselves to the madman.

“Time’s wasting. You’re down to nine minutes.”

Silas thought quickly. “Fervis, we need more time. Give us half an hour.”

“I’m quite certain I mentioned this isn’t a negotiation. Eight minutes now.”

“You also claimed to be a reasonable man. Give us the extra time, and you’ll have Seven.”

“Fifteen minutes. Starting now.”

“Twenty,” Silas suggested.

“Fine. Twenty minutes beginning now. Do not trifle with me.”

“Do we have your word you won’t shoot us when we emerge?” Heph asked.

“I’m not a monster, Kildeggan. Of course.”

“All right, here’s the plan.” Silas gathered everyone with a motion. “Mr. Withers, gather all the fighters. Get the armament you’ll need and convene at the Prometheus warehouse.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Mr. Carson, gather anyone not willing or able to fight and get them to the dock. Follow the canal to safety, and await word on Cheapside.”

“Yes, sir. I will.”

“Good. Let’s move out,” Silas said.

“Wait.” Heph pointed to a third boy. “Mr. Banwall, are you a fair shot?”

“I am, sir.”

“I thought so. Get to the tower. Carrington has a few rifles with specialized sights. Once the rest of the residents are evacuated or holed up at the warehouse, we’ll lure them further into the city. Hopefully you and Carrington can thin them out with the long-range rifles we’ve outfitted. Tell Carrington to ask for Seven to report to the warehouse. Withers, Carson, make sure everyone’s aware that’s just a ruse.”