Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

A stinging mix of anger and shame shuddered down Tobias’s spine. He clenched his jaw. “So what are you trying to tell me?”

“The rebellion isn’t just talk anymore.” Bucky raised his hands, silencing Tobias before he could interrupt. “This is my point. The longer you stand with Jasper Keating, the further away you are from the rest of us.”

That stung worse than if Bucky had clipped him on the chin. “I joined his company because he was about to crush my father! Where would my mother and sisters have been then?”

Bucky nodded. “And now your wife is his daughter and your son his grandson. He has you trapped right and proper.”

The logic infuriated Tobias, mostly because he’d known it from the start. Anger crackled over his skin, making it feel too tight. “What do you want?”

Bucky’s expression wasn’t hostile, but it was serious. “Someday I’m going to fight and you won’t be at my back.”

“Nonsense. I’m your friend. Who I work for doesn’t change that.”

“If you leave it too long, you won’t have a choice anymore. If the Steam Council turns on the people, each of us is going to have to decide where we belong.”

“And you’re going to play the rebel? You won’t even carry a gun,” Tobias snapped. “Your father may own an arms factory, but you make toys for a living.”

“I don’t carry a gun because I’m too good a shot,” Bucky said quietly. “But when I fire, I don’t miss. I never want to find you in my sights.”

“It’s not that simple,” Tobias shot back, feeling a need for justification.

Bucky shrugged. “No, but the barons are running out of time, and that means we won’t have many more chances to talk before everything falls apart.”

All at once a flash made them both fall silent. A bright light bloomed from the lake in the middle of the park. “What the bleeding hell is that?” Tobias asked.

Bucky drew in his breath, probably to tell him he was avoiding the subject, but then let it out with a hiss as the glow grew stronger, like a small sun rising over the treetops. “Is that some kind of a dirigible?”

They hurried toward the apparition, anxious to see who was launching a craft in the middle of the city—on the night of a riot, no less—and why. Anyone with innocent intentions would have gone home and locked their doors.

At first, greenery blocked their view. All that Tobias could see was the netted curve of a balloon surrounded by a glow of light. And then the tip of a propeller came into view. “By God, it is some sort of airship,” he exclaimed. They started to run to get a better view.

The first thing they encountered was a scatter of horses, carts, and running men—some of them armed—making for the street. That solved the mystery of how the thing had got there—and judging by the size and number of conveyances involved, there had been some assembly required at the last minute. Debris from the construction littered the shore of the lake. A handful of cheaply built rafts still floated on the water, spinning slowly in the current. Tobias tried to picture where the rafts came in, but was immediately distracted by the ship itself.

What rose above the lake was like nothing Tobias had ever seen. A graceful gold balloon suspended an enclosed body coated in brass. The balloon was augmented by ranks of steam-driven propellers heaving against the weight of their burden. Tobias immediately calculated the difficulty of lifting such a machine into the air and the fuel required to do it. Wherever the thing was meant to go, it wasn’t far—maybe just a mile or two away.

The general shape of the thing was insectile, made up of three sections with the largest in the aft. Whirling propellers were set on rectangular frames attached to the midsection like wings. The entire body of the ship was studded with lights, making it glimmer in the night sky. Apparently, it was meant to be seen. But most disturbing was a long proboscis-like spike emerging from the prow. Tobias tried to make sense of the shape, and felt a headache coming on.

“What the feckin’ hell?” muttered Bucky. “You say it, because I don’t want to.”

“It’s a gigantic brass mosquito,” Tobias replied as the thing lifted above the greenery.

“Why?”

The question really did sum it all up. Sadly, there was no good answer, so they increased their speed to race after it. They weren’t the only ones. The mob that had followed the police to Bond Street earlier that night now turned like a giant, sluggish tide to flow in the direction of this latest apparition. But unlike the park, the streets were jammed. There was no possibility of the coppers catching up to the ship or the mischief-makers who had sent it into the sky.

Undoubtedly someone had tipped off the constabulary about the riots that night. It was the surest way to get them out of the way. How else did one launch a giant bug in the middle of a very public park, save by creating an even bigger distraction down the road?

The mosquito, and everyone else, was heading toward Westminster. The face of Big Ben loomed in the night sky like a gigantic clockwork god. A few tiny police balloons wafted into the air, looking rather like the bubbles in a champagne glass, but there was no hope of catching the intruder. Tobias watched with mounting horror as it powered along, propellers churning, toward the Palace of Westminster—and more specifically, for the Clock Tower.

Tobias and Bucky became tangled in the crowd as it funneled toward the east end of the park. Directly ahead, a carriage had become mired in the midst of the throng and the mare was whinnying in panic at the crush. They were more or less at a standstill.

Bucky dragged Tobias by the arm, pulling up against the side of a white stone building. Silent, they both watched with mute horror as the brass mosquito sailed steadily toward Big Ben. The symbolism of a blood-sucker nagged at Tobias’s mind, but nowhere had he seen any indication of who was behind the attack. The anonymity of this action made everything worse.

The clock was chiming eleven, the huge bell bonging with certitude, the elegant hands uplifted against the illuminated face. And for a moment, Tobias thought the weight of majesty would be enough to protect the monument. The mosquito seemed to pause, lights shimmering against the dark sky, suspended by the vibrant voice of the bell.

And then it dove, nose skewering the glass.

“Blood and thunder!” Tobias couldn’t hear it break at that distance, but he saw the flash of reflection in the lights of the attacking ship. A collective gasp of dismay went up from the crowd. The proboscis drove in deep, crushing clockwork as if it were tissue paper. Metal flew, arcing into the air, but it was hard to tell what was the clock and what was the ship. Even at that distance, Tobias could tell both were wrecks. The bell made an odd, choking ring and went silent. Then, the crowd’s gasp became a roar as what had just happened soaked in.

The light from the Clock Tower winked out. Big Ben was dead, one side burdened by the brass monstrosity that had speared it. Then the ship’s lights, too, flickered and went out.

Tobias was growing cold inside, as if he were being drained of blood. Westminster was the heart of the Gold King’s territory, the jewel in his crown. Keating was going to be furious right down to the bottom of his spats. “You were wondering about a war?”

“But who did this?” Bucky waved at the spectacle in the sky, for all it was now shrouded in darkness. “Why put the Empire at risk with such a pointless gesture?”

Tobias closed his eyes for a long moment. Bucky was right. The steam barons distrusted one another, and once the balance of power between them tipped, every industry they owned—power, transportation, manufacturing, and even the brothels—would suffer. There would be chaos unless the culprit was found and dealt with in short order. Innocent people would be hurt.