Bitter Cold: A Steampunk Snow Queen (The Clockwork Republic Series Book 4) (10 page)

Greta's eyes lit up with relief and joy. She flung her arms around Captain Hamm's neck. "You will? Oh, thank you, Captain! I can't thank you enough!" The man grunted and groaned a bit under her hug.

"Call me Elias. .So tell me, what is it I'm supposed to be looking for up there?"

"My friend was taken by someone in a small airship. A witness told me it was painted white and blue."

"Wait. You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure. The person didn't have any reason to lie, at least not that I know about."

"What's this Kit look like?"

"A bit taller than me. Strong and solid -- he's a tinker. With black hair and brown eyes."

"He wouldn't have been covered in dirt the last time you saw him, would he?"

Greta's eyes widened in surprise. "He'd slid over a muddy embankment when he was captured. Captain . . . Elias, I mean . . . did you see him? Did you see the airship?"

Elias nodded slowly. "I believe I did. Grant you, I didn't get a good look at his face, but it sure sounds like the young man who stepped off a little zephyr ship that landed just after I did last night. And the ship's a match, for certain. Not too many flying with those colors. What was the name of that ship? Oriolus? Aurelius?"

"Elias, can you find out who owns that ship? Who else was on it?"

"It was a light crew. Just the man you're describing, the pilot and a woman."

"A woman?"

"Yeah. She was definitely the one in charge of the whole shebang. Seemed kind of shifty, too, although to be honest that isn't too out of the usual here.

"What about Kit? Could she have been holding a weapon on him? Did he seem in distress?"

Elias paused a moment, as if hesitant to tell her his first impression. "No. He didn't seem in any distress. To be honest, he looked sort of smitten with her."

Greta looked down just to be sure none of the thugs from The Rusty Sextant had snuck up and thrown a knife into her chest. Smitten? Kit was about to propose to her just yesterday afternoon, and by last night he was smitten with some stranger?

"Are you feeling well, girl? You look like you just got a mouthful of castor oil."

"I'm fine, Captain Elias. I'm sure there's more to this than meets the eye. Either way, I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Do you think the port manager would give you any more information?"

"Like who she is and where you might find her?" He grinned. "He owes me a little money. I'll run up right quick and see if he's willing to settle up with some information."

Greta nodded, and pointed at a coffee house just down the block. "Thank you again, Captain. If you don't mind, I think I'll wait for you in there."

The airship captain grinned at her. "That's a good idea, girlie. Hey, by the way, what's your name?"

"Greta. Greta Jane Singleton."

"Well, Greta, I'll see what I can find out and be back in a wink."

~*~

Greta had been stirring cream into the same cup of coffee for almost an hour before Captain Elias returned and found her. His words about Kit and the woman from the airship still felt like a lead plumb weight sitting uncomfortably in her stomach.

Of course, it wasn't as though she wanted Kit to be in love with her. She was still a mess, still unfit for matrimony, still a walking disaster. The worst thing she could do for him was accept the proposal she'd interrupted.

Then again, she had managed to formulate a working anti-gravity potion, pilot a flying Christmas decoration across two republics and rescue an errant airship captain from being crushed under a carriage, all within two days. Maybe she wasn't the unmitigated mess she'd always believed.

She told herself she wasn't jealous. She was just concerned, as any good friend should be under the circumstances. It wasn't at all like Kit to run off without letting anyone know. He was behaving strangely, and it was most likely this woman's fault. Once she was reassured that Kit was safe and in his right mind, he could elope with the next floozy to pass by, if he wanted.

Right after she kicked him in the shins.

The look on Elias' face when he returned made the plumb weight dig a little deeper into her gut.

"Didn't you find anything out?" She gripped the cup of coffee as she awaited his answer. Was she sure she even wanted to know what he'd discovered?

"I did. But it wasn't good. Have you ever heard of the Snow Queen?"

Greta searched her memory. The name sounded familiar, like something she should know. Snatches of stories she'd read in the newspaper sprang to mind.

"I think so. Isn't she some heiress or industrialist? Has something of an unscrupulous reputation?" She didn't mention the other thing she recalled, about how the Snow Queen was ravishingly beautiful and had broken the hearts of all the most eligible bachelors on the continent.

"That's the one. Her real name is Evelyn DeWinter. She's the woman from the airship last night."

With that, the plumb weight, and Greta's stomach, fell all the way to her feet.

"Kit's been taken by the Snow Queen?"

"He's definitely traveling with her. But by all signs he was there of his own free will. He was dirty as a pig, but he didn't seem injured." Elias gave her a sympathetic look as he slumped into the chair across from her. He waved at the man behind the counter, who sent a percolambulator to the table. The short cylindrical 'gen, with its domed top, rolled obediently over.

Burbling noise and fragrant steam poured out of the mechanical coffeepot. Elias grabbed a ceramic mug from the hooks which ringed the machine, and poured himself a cup. Greta refilled hers, adding a little more cream from the spigot on the side of the automaton.

"It took some convincing, but the port manager gave me this." He handed Greta a slip of paper with a scribbled street address.

She looked at the crumpled paper, her face downcast. "Maybe she threatened him. Maybe he's putting on an act, trying to get her to lower her guard so he can escape." Even to her own ears, those explanations sounded like wishful thinking.

The airship captain threw her a dubious look. "Maybe. Or maybe your friend just stumbled into a good opportunity, and had to either take it or lose it on the spot. You say he's a tinker. Maybe the Snow Queen's airship was in the right place at the right time to help him out of a jam, and she liked the look of him."

Frowning, Greta's mind ran back to her assumptions when Kit had tried to propose. She'd been convinced some industrialist was going to take him away from her. Maybe she'd been correct, just a little premature. The acclaim he'd received from the Great Christmas Exposition did make him an attractive employee.

She gulped, trying very hard not to think about what else the Snow Queen might find attractive about Kit.

"You may be right, Captain. Maybe I'll find him, and he'll be on his way to send a telegram with nothing but good news. But I've known Kit since we were both children. If there's even a chance he's in danger, I need make sure he's safe. Heavens knows he's gotten me out of enough improbable scrapes over the years."

She sipped at her coffee, feeling her resolve return. "Thank you for all your help, Captain. I hope I can return the favor someday."

Elias gave her a long thoughtful look. "Yep. You remind me of Mattie. One of my oldest friends, and a more loyal soul you'll never meet. You're quite a girl, Greta. I hope you find your friend, and he's fine as a frog's hair."

The airship captain gulped down his coffee, stood up and headed out to return to his own business. As he pushed through the doors, he looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling.

"But something tells me the Snow Queen's in for a mess of trouble when you find them, either way."

Chapter 10

Lies Beneath

Isadora Halfacre crept nervously into Evelyn's parlor. The hour was late, but the old lady knew better than to hesitate when summoned.

She'd scraped her frazzled grey hair back into a bun beneath a black veiled hat. Her dress consisted of great swaths of fabric in blacks and muddy greys, still in mourning. Evelyn vaguely remembered her as she'd been when they first met, a plump matronly creature with fluttery hands and a high-pitched, girlish drawl. Widowhood had not been kind.

"Please come in, Mrs. Halfacre. Have a seat."

Evelyn gestured to an imposing wing-back chair. Instead of looking comfortable, or even regal, the odd angles and carvings made it resemble some Jacobean torture device. The mousy woman knew better than to risk offending her hostess. She gingerly planted herself on the chair's edge, leaning forward as if to listen attentively but actually to avoid having any more contact with the seat than absolutely necessary.

"You have some business for me, ma'am? Your driver said it was of the utmost urgency." Fear radiated from the frail woman's frame.

"It is indeed important. As usual, it will require your diligent discretion. No one can know about this assignment." Evelyn shook loose the folds of her satin dress, smoothing the azure fabric across her knees. The widow's rumpled appearance disrupted her otherwise immaculately neat room. After she'd replaced her human servants with 'gens, Evelyn had grown accustomed to everything remaining frozen in a state of perfect order.

Particularly since creating Gaskon, the fewer nosy hirelings poking around the house in her absence, the better.

"What do you need, Miss DeWinter? You know I'm always at your disposal." Try as she might, the woman was unable to conceal an edge of bitterness to her tone.

"Do you know anything of my holdings in the Kentucky Republic?"

"Yes, Miss. If you recall, I helped you solicit the services of a number of tinkers and engineers for some project installed in your airship, the Boreas. How are Mr. Gunderson and Mr. Whitley getting along with their task, if I may ask?"

"I'm afraid not well at all." A frown crossed Evelyn's fine features. "Blunderson and Witless" as she'd dubbed them, had not worked out at all, in the end. To their great misfortune.

"I am sorry to hear that."

Not as sorry as they'd been. But that was not important at the moment.

"Don't worry. You couldn't have possibly known, and I've since found a most acceptable replacement. However, I find myself needing to confide in you to a greater degree than usual, to help you understand the gravity of the situation. Let us be entirely clear. The consequences of your breaking my confidence will be . . . dire."

She did not raise her voice, which maintained its light tone and musical cadence, but there could be no mistaking the open threat.

"Mrs. Halfacre, I believe I may speak candidly with you. I feel that we have an understanding, and that, unlike most people, you know me for who I am."

"I . . . I believe that's so, yes." The elderly woman was practically quivering, although whether it was from terror, suppressed rage, or a mixture of both was impossible to tell.

"The machine I've been building is called the Eternity Engine. It is the culmination of all my years of study in the science of alchemy. It will grant me untold power, and the gifts of the Philosopher's Stone. I will be able to turn back the hands of time, and turn lead into gold."

"That's wonderful news. I'm afraid I'm a little unclear as to what it might have to do with me, though." The woman was worrying the handle her leather satchel as if rubbing it would cause a genie to appear and whisk her away on a magic carpet. Unfortunately for her, the only carpet in view was Evelyn's very expensive rug.

"Well, there are a number of people who don't want to see me complete the Engine. It may have something to do with the fact that activating the device will result in a rather sudden and dramatic drop in both temperature and population." She offered Halfacre a wry smile, but the widow didn't return it. Instead, her mouth hung open in undisguised horror.

"What . . . whatever do you mean? Why on earth would that be necessary?"

Evelyn continue her tale. After years of plotting in secret, with no one knowing the full extent of her plans, it was intoxicating to speak them aloud. She considered it a foretaste of the freedom to do and say exactly as she pleased. It wasn't as if Halfacre had the will to oppose her, or if anyone would listen to the doddering old widow if she tried.

And she was so close. The Engine's completion was within her grasp, she knew it with absolute certainty. Kit would not fail her as the others had.

"Alchemical coal and steam start the engine to begin the process, but the final stage of the reaction requires a far greater power source. Perhaps you've heard of the recent research into solar power, capturing the energy of the sun itself? My device works on similar principles. It will drain a substantial amount of the heat contained within the earth's atmosphere.

"Doing so will cause a brief ice age of sorts for hundreds of miles when it reaches full power. The airship carrying it is heavily insulated, but those caught unprepared will likely die.

"I can assure you, many people will be quite unprepared."

A small incredulous squeak escaped Isadora Halfacre. "But, Miss DeWinter, that's murder! On a scale which boggles the mind." She attempted a nervous, half-hearted giggle. "Of course you're simply having fun at my expense. No sane person would ever do such a thing."