R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

“He was,” I said, nodding my head in Will’s direction.

“I oughtter get down out of here and box your ears. Don’t you know better than to be wasting my time!”

“But we truly need a cab.”

The cabbie looked suspicious. “’Ave you got the blunt?”

“Yes, yes. Of course.” I dug the money out of my pocket and waved it at him.

He grunted. “Very well. Get in with you, then.”

We all clambered up into the cab. Before we’d got ourselves seated, the driver cracked his whip and the horse lurched forward, sending us all tumbling to our seats.

“Where to, miss?” he called down.

“Queen Victoria Docks, please.”

“Very well.” The hansom was much slower than the fancy motorcar the Germans were in. I was frantic, sure von Braggenschnott and his men would board the ship before we arrived.

The driver steered his horse down to the docks, a teeming rabbit warren of shipping offices, warehouses, and quays that went on for miles. Towering over all the piers and barges were rigged beams and pulleys. It was like a small city — a loud, jostley city that smelled of fish and salt and the Thames’ unique stench.

As soon as we pulled to a stop, Henry and Will leaped out of the cab. I shoved the money at the cabby. He took forever with the change. I think he was hoping I’d tell him to keep it.

Finally I got away and hurried after Henry and Will toward the ship. My heart seemed to be lodged in my throat and my stomach was twirling as badly as one of Henry’s whirligigs. The Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse was enormous; the ship towered above the docks as if someone had picked up three city blocks of very tall buildings and plopped them down next to the river.

We quickly spotted the Germans’ motorcar. They had parked it right up on the wooden dock next to the ship itself. Will, Henry, and I skidded to a stop when we realized they had only just got out of their car. We weren’t too late. That was one problem solved. We trickled into the milling crowd and began working our way to the boarding area where the Germans were headed. Will had that sauntering thing down pat. Even Henry seemed to be doing a pretty good job of acting casual. But me, well, I felt as if anyone could take one look at my face and know I was up to something. My guilty conscience, Father would say. Thinking of him finding out about this made my knees go weak.

By the time we reached the boarding area, my nerves were stretched so tight I was afraid they might snap. I tried to focus on the lay of the land and picked out my position right away. I gave Will the signal and he strolled to the middle of the crowd. He could do this. I just knew he could. He had to.

Firmly pushing aside any doubts, I turned to Henry. After a quick conference we decided the best place for him to work his distractions would be up behind a large barricade of cargo containers. He took off in that direction, and I headed up a small ramp that led to a balcony outside the second story of a shipping office. From there, I would be able to see everyone else and give the signals.

When I reached my position, I glanced down, dismayed to see that the Germans were quite close to the loading ramp.

Almost as if he sensed something, Will glanced up in my direction. I jerked my head toward the Germans and he switched course and moved in that direction.

It was stunning how well he managed to blend in with the crowd. He moved through the throngs of people as if he were a cork bobbing on the ocean, letting the crowd’s momentum carry him forward.

I looked at Henry. Even from this distance I could see the tense excitement running through him. To him, this was all a ripping game. I left it that way. If one stopped to think of what we were risking, of what might happen if the Germans were on to us… I gulped. I forced myself to concentrate on what was happening down below and not let my imagination run wild.

Finally, the crowd’s movements carried Will within reach of the German delegation. Without looking at me, he reached up and adjusted his hat, his sign that he was in place and ready. Steady now, I told myself, my heart thumping in my chest as loudly as a big brass drum.

I caught Henry’s eye and flipped my hair over my shoulder, which was the signal. Henry nodded, then lifted the long flexible stick he’d been carrying all morning. He loaded the small leather pocket on the tip with birdshot, pulled it back, and then bent down out of sight. He took careful aim, then released the tip of the stick, sending the small lead bits raining down into the crowd.

Immediately people began slapping at their faces and necks as if they were being stung by insects. A low murmur rose up as people broke off their conversations and began looking around.

Will used the opportunity to get right behind von Braggenschnott. All the Germans had ignored the stinging shot and were looking into the sky, eyes alert, trying to find the source of the attack. No shrugging it off for them.

As they stared up toward the stack of containers where Henry lay hidden, Will lifted the coattails of von Braggenschnott’s morning coat.

I held my breath.

Will’s fingers slipped into the German’s back pocket — and came out empty.

I nearly fainted as a thought occurred to me: What if he wasn’t carrying the Heart of Egypt on him? What if he’d hidden it somewhere in his luggage? What then?

It was a horrible revelation. Was this the right thing to do? Were we putting Will in too much danger?

I gave myself a mental shake. It was too late for second thoughts now. We’d just have to brazen it out.

Will pulled back from von Braggenschnott and waited for the next distraction. I turned to Henry, who sat leaning against a container, well hidden from the crowd. He was watching me and awaiting further signals.

Very carefully, I bent down and gave him the next signal — I adjusted my left shoe.

When I stood up again, he nodded. Time for the thunderbolts.

Within seconds, small whirligigging objects came zooming over the crowd. I knew they were just paper twists weighted with pebbles, but they certainly surprised the people below. Startled and confused, people cried out and ducked for cover.

Will stepped toward von Braggenschnott. But alas! Instead of moving away from the disturbance like everybody else, the man turned toward the commotion and slammed smack into Will, who clutched at the German’s coat to try to keep his balance. The vile man shouted something, then backhanded Will across the face.

Will staggered backward and von Braggenschnott and his men drew guns — real live guns — and began shooting at the silly thunderbolts!

Mass confusion and pandemonium erupted as everyone hit the ground to avoid having their head shot off.

Henry leaped to his feet to go to Will’s aid. Frantically, I motioned him back to his hiding place. If they discovered that Henry was behind all this, who knew what they’d do to him? Shoot him, that’s what.

Von Braggenschnott motioned at two of his men to head in the direction of the thunderbolts.

I motioned to Henry like mad, trying to get his attention. Finally, he looked over at me and got the idea. He scuttled away, weaving a crooked path between the cargo containers, and disappeared out of sight.

This wasn’t going at all how we’d planned. Who would have guessed that von Braggenschnott and his men would be so horrid about a little thing like cracking thunderbolts?

I looked back and saw Will struggle to his feet, blood pouring from his nose. He wiped his hand across his face and spotted the blood. His expression grew furious and he drew back his leg as if he were going to kick von Braggenschnott. But if Will did that then von Braggenschnott would take him apart limb by limb. Apparently Will stumbled onto the same idea, for he backed off a bit, then sauntered away. Sauntered, mind you — I would have torn out of there like all the furies of hell were behind me!