Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

Hyacinth clenched her teeth, but she obeyed.

“And now that we have settled that detail, there are so many more pleasant things to discuss.” The Violet Queen bestowed a sweet smile that didn’t reach beyond her lips.

Hyacinth’s eye fell on the decanter of cordial—it would hide the taste of poison so excellently well—and a single thought filled her mind to the exclusion of all else. I should be the Violet Queen .

Unknown

IMOGEN DIDN’T LIKE BEING SEPARATED FROM MOUSE, BUT someone had to keep watch over Anna while she fixed Bucky’s bomb in place. The trick was to have it ready in a spot where she was sure Anna would go, and that was near Bird.

It wasn’t as simple as setting a timer and running away to hide. This was, after all, one of Bucky’s creations. The bomb was meant for precision work, and that meant setting it off in the right spot at exactly the right moment. Unfortunately, Imogen had reservations about anything more mechanically complex than a pair of scissors.

In this world of stark clockwork, there weren’t many places to hide a device. The clock didn’t even have consistent floors, just platforms and walkways over the gaping chasm below. The only way to make sure Anna was in the path of the bomb was to drop it on her unexpectedly. Or—remembering Bucky’s childhood prank involving a rather nasty-looking frog—to lower it from above until she was certain that the device would hit its mark, and then drop it. That would at least compensate for the fact that she had abysmal aim.

A long, thin chain hadn’t been hard to find, but a good place to lie in wait had been. There was a metal grid above the area where Bird was imprisoned, but it was very high up and the crossing beams were narrow. Imogen would be all but invisible up there, but she was far from certain she’d be able to balance over yawning nothingness while holding a bomb.

Nevertheless, while Mouse kept watch on Anna, she climbed up to the top and crouched at the edge of the lattice, gathering her courage until the moment came. The only light came from the many tubes of colored liquid that bubbled quietly to themselves. She tried to guess how badly the shifting, murky glow would hinder her ability to accurately drop the device on Anna’s head.

Bird was still in its cage, hemmed in by the moving, clanking parts. Fear radiated from the creature’s stiff form like heat from a stove. “We’re going to get you out,” she whispered from her perch above. “We’re not leaving you behind.”

And here I was getting used to the decor . Bird cocked its head, looking her way with one bright, jeweled eye. It’s amazing what minimalist charm one can conjure with wing nuts and a bit of aether .

“It’s the least I can do, after you put your life on the line to come here.” Imogen began examining the oval shape of the bomb, locating the loop where she would fasten the chain. It was surprising how quickly she’d begun to think in terms of building things. Maybe having makers around all her life had been good for something besides leaving grease all over the furniture. “Besides, I’ve never rescued anyone before. It’ll be a novelty.”

A lovely sentiment. But I’d be more concerned about a beau who sends explosive devices. It rather pushes the boundaries of etiquette. Flowers are a much more standard gift .

Flowers had been one of Bucky’s first gifts, and the memory made her smile. “He gave me what I needed, no questions asked.”

He let you into his dreams. He was willing to trust you. That’s rare in someone with no magical blood .

Imogen paused, the chain in her hand. “We love each other. A lot of people say they’re in love, but we really are.” And it hadn’t come all at once, the way it did in her mother’s novels. It had grown unremarked for years, like a sapling in a neglected corner of the garden, only discovered once it bloomed.

Bird didn’t reply. At first she thought it was because of what she’d said, but then she realized Anna was below. Mouse was there, too, silent and still as the shadows. A sudden, suffocating panic overtook her, making the chain slip through cold, sweaty hands. Anna was right there and Imogen had to act; everything had just been talk until now. She’d shot Anna once before when her twin had been in the body of Serafina, but that had been in the heat of the moment with no time to think. Now she was plotting her murder and had to make every move with a deliberate intent to kill—and it wasn’t sitting well in her stomach.

“Well, little bird,” Anna said in a conversational tone. “My sister has always had a weak spot for her pets. I wonder if she cares enough for a piece of clockwork to come out of the shadows and play this game face to face.”

With the strange magic of the clock, Anna suddenly had Bird outside the makeshift cage. Imogen blinked, trying to understand how she’d pulled the creature through the narrow bars. Anna held Bird’s feet in one hand, letting it dangle upside down. In the clock world, the creature was the size of a turkey, its wings beating frantically to get free. Sparkles of light refracted from the jewels along Bird’s wingtips, making a swirling net of rainbows until Anna hauled it to a nearby plinth. Then she pulled out a pair of pliers.

Catching her lip between her teeth, Imogen gathered up the bomb in one hand and the loops of chain in the other, and began walking the latticework beams to reach the spot directly over Anna’s head. Her body wanted to shake in fear because the pathway was barely as wide as her feet, but she promised herself she could tremble all she wished later. Right now she had to be as sure and graceful as a dancer.

And so far, Anna seemed oblivious to the fact that she was there. She had Bird on its back, one hand on its belly, and was considering her prize from one angle and then another. “To be honest, I rather hope my sister will prove stubborn. There has been very little entertainment in this place since I came.”

Imogen cast a sidelong glance at Mouse, who was hiding in the vast rack of glass tubing. She could tell by the set of the creature’s ears and whiskers that it was intent, but there was no easy way for it to reach Bird. The outcome was up to her.

Leaning forward, Anna probed Bird’s eye with her tool. “You know there is a song about plucking larks, don’t you, little alouette ?”

Imogen made it easily enough from her hiding place along the narrow beam, but then she had to make a right angle, stepping from one level to another about a foot below. It would have been nothing if there had been a rail to hold, but she had to force herself to concentrate completely on her feet.

Bird’s cries filled her head like the shattering of glass. Imogen wavered, but instantly tightened every muscle to keep herself straight and strong. It was a trick Evelina had taught her at school when they scrambled over logs and across streams on girlish adventures. Who would have guessed she’d be betting her life on those lessons now?

“There we go!” Anna held one of Bird’s emerald eyes to the light, turning it to and fro to admire the glitter. “Paste, of course, but still a pretty bit of glass.”

Mouse was on its feet, no doubt as appalled as Imogen. Bird’s agonized wail ripped through her like a blade. Devas didn’t have bodies according to Evelina, but here Bird’s flesh was vulnerable. Had the devas even truly understood physical pain before coming here? The idea made Imogen light-headed. Bird could die by inches if Anna willed it—and there was no doubt she had the appetite. As Serafina she had been the Whitechapel murderer, tearing woman after woman to shreds.

“There are no shops in the clock, of course, and nowhere to get such pretty baubles,” Anna went on. “And I like pretty things. My sister, of course, has no end of lovely clothes, while I’m forced to grab at what I can.” She dropped the emerald onto the plinth and leaned over the struggling bird. “I’d love to make some emerald earbobs, but of course that means I’ll need two.”