Mist, Metal, and Ash Page 21

  Even having seen the clockwork creature move through the maze proved to be of little use. Leo tried to lead them along the route the creature had taken, but upon closer inspection, some of the leaps would be dangerous at best for anyone who lacked wings.

  They got stuck on a long stairway, which ran parallel to the path they wanted. Leo paced, looking for a solution; in the middle of the stairway the gravity shifted ninety degrees, so climbing down became climbing up, which made pacing a rather dizzying prospect.

  Their target path ran parallel to the stairway but was angled such that it looked like a wall from their current perspective. Elsa tilted her head, pondering the gravity vectors.

  “We jump from the middle of the stairs,” she suddenly declared.

  “What?” Leo called, returning from the far end of the stairway.

  Elsa walked down to the transition point, where the stairs had two equally useless surfaces and moving in either direction would mean climbing up. “The two gravity vectors are mostly canceling each other out in the middle. Can’t you feel it? The pull is weakest here.”

  Leo folded his arms. “If you’re hoping I’m going to tell you not to try it, I should warn you I’ve already used up my daily allotment of caution.”

  She ignored him and lay down on her side, wedged between two stairs with her legs hanging off the edge of the staircase. “Grab my arm,” she insisted.

  He crouched and locked arms with her. Holding her legs straight out to the side as best she could, Elsa slid off the stairs into empty air. Her stomach lurched as the gravity of the path beneath her feet caught ahold of her.

  “Okay, let go!”

  Leo released her arm, and she fell onto the path with a thud that jarred her knees. She stepped away to make room for Leo to follow, and he landed behind her with a bit more grace. They’d finally done it—this path ran directly behind the wide stairway where they’d seen the clockwork creature vanish.

  Elsa peered ahead, looking for details of their destination through the web of paths obstructing her view. “Is that a wall? As in a real wall?”

  “I told you there was something hidden over there,” said Leo.

  Elsa did an eye roll that would’ve made Porzia proud. “Fair warning: if this turns out to be Aris’s collection of disembodied heads preserved in jars, I’ll be severely disappointed.”

  Behind the stairs was a wide wall with a door set into it—not one of Aris’s rectangular holes, but a real door. Elsa didn’t protest when Leo squeezed past her to take the lead, since he had his rapier on him and she was still without her revolver. He turned the knob quickly and ducked through.

  At last on the other side was a proper room, with a floor, a ceiling, four walls, and a couple of doorways leading into farther chambers. It was furnished like a parlor and even had a fireplace. Elsa had never in her life felt so relieved to be enclosed.

  Seated on the floor, leaning his back against an armchair, was a strange boy. Or perhaps it was a boy-shaped construct—the integration of flesh and machine was so extensive as to make Elsa unsure of her determination. No, she decided, changing her mind again: he was a boy. Mostly a boy.

  The right half of his skull had been replaced with glass, through which the pulsing veins of his brain were visible. His right eye socket was brass from the brow ridge to the cheekbone, with a mechanical eye like a glowing red monocle set within. Two fingers on his left hand were mechanical replacements as well as the entire right hand, and from the flash of brass visible through his open shirt collar, Elsa guessed the replacement went all the way up the arm and over the shoulder.

  He looked pale and delicate, about the size of Porzia’s sister Olivia, but something about his expression made her think he was older than he looked. His hair, where he had any, was an indeterminate dusty blond-brown. There was almost nothing familiar about him—almost.

  For the half-metal boy was staring at them, eyes wide, and his organic left eye was an unmistakable shade of amber.

  Beside Elsa, Leo stood as frozen as a statue. He did not even seem to breathe.

  “Pasca?” Leo said, choking on the name.

  17

  BEING DEEPLY LOVED BY SOMEONE GIVES YOU STRENGTH, WHILE LOVING SOMEONE DEEPLY GIVES YOU COURAGE.

  —Lao Tzu

  Leo stared into his little brother’s face and the ground seemed to shift beneath his feet. A reorientation of tectonic proportions. Pasca was alive—this changed everything.

  Pasca clambered to his feet, and though he said nothing, Leo could swear there was recognition on his face. Even after so long apart, and whatever horrors had befallen him, they knew each other instinctually, blood calling to blood.

  Leo felt as if he’d had a metal chip wedged into the gears in his heart, wedged so tight between the teeth and for so long that he’d forgotten they were supposed to turn at all. Now, suddenly, the blockage came loose and his mainspring could finally unwind the tension he’d carried for seven years.

  He moved to close the distance between them, but the clockwork creature bolted in through another door and stepped in front of Pasca. She loomed menacingly over the interlopers and growled deep in her throat. Pasca reached up and placed a hand on her elbow, calming her.

  The creature made some intricate gesture at Pasca, the bronze tips of her long fingers clacking together. Pasca responded with a brief but very specific gesture of his own.

  “It’s a language,” Elsa said, her voice bright with fascination, “a visual language, composed of hand shape and position and movement. Do you see?”

  “I … what?” Leo was too stunned by Pasca’s mere physical existence to be making inferences.

  Elsa imitated their gestures as they silently conversed, and when the creature noticed what Elsa was doing, she stopped midsentence and stared. In that infuriatingly easy way of hers, Elsa began communicating with the creature.

  Leo couldn’t wait any longer, and he fell upon Pasca with an embrace that nearly knocked the boy off his feet. Pasca was older now and taller and hard metal in places that used to be flesh over bone, but he felt solid and real, so real, and after a moment of surprise he was hugging Leo back. Nothing else in the universe mattered.

  But Leo’s talent for analysis was gradually returning, and as the objective part of his mind began observing and cataloging the facts, it felt more like a curse than a gift. Fact: Pasca was trapped in a worldbook with a construct for his only companion. Which meant he may have lived in near-total isolation for half his childhood. Fact: Leo had never heard of a person with such extensive body modifications. The procedures must have been intensive and excruciating; it was a miracle of science that he’d recovered at all. And Pasca had not spoken aloud, nor responded to the words spoken in his presence.

  Leo relaxed his embrace and held Pasca at arm’s length instead, hands on his shoulders. He looked pallid—from struggling health or lack of sun or both—but there was alertness in his eye. In the organic one, at least; the mechanical replacement had an uncanny gaze.

  “Little brother, what happened to you?”

  Pasca shook his head, though Leo wasn’t sure if he meant he didn’t know the answer or couldn’t understand the question. There was no time to work it out, though, because the door behind Leo banged open.

  He spun around to see a furious Aris. “You’re not supposed to be in here, brother. And you’re definitely not supposed to bring guests,” he said, with a glance at Elsa.

  Leo stared, momentarily speechless. “Is there nothing you won’t lie about?”

  Aris ignored the question. He made a precise, impatient hand gesture at the clockwork creature, who bowed her head contritely in response. Then he said, “Come along, you two,” to Leo and Elsa, as if they were naughty children.

  Elsa protested, “We most certainly will not.”

  Leo scrubbed his face with both hands. “Oh, Aris, what have you done to Pasca?”

  “What would you have done? I couldn’t very well let him die. He’s my brother,” Aris
said, as if that should be explanation enough.

  “Of course not. Not your brother,” Leo replied acidly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You turned Pasca into an experiment! We’re not your playthings, Aris—you don’t own us. Did you even ask him what he wanted first, before implanting all these mechanical body parts?”

  Aris smirked. “We are, all three of us, experiments. You know that as well as I.”

  “Look at what you have done. You tortured him.”

  “I tried to fix him. I’m still trying! This is your fault, anyway—if you’d kept better track of him, Rosalinda would have gotten him out safely, and he never would’ve been trapped in the fire.” Aris made a guttural noise of frustration. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this, of all things. I thought you’d be happy he’s alive.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep him hidden?”

  Aris tossed his hands in the air. “I was worried you’d overreact. Oh, look, I was right.”

  “Because you kept him locked away like a prisoner!” Leo said.

  “To protect him!”

  “From what?”

  “From Father!” Aris bellowed.

  Leo stared at him, their gazes locked. The very air between them seemed to carry an electric charge. Could it be true that Aris had found something he wanted more than Ricciotti’s approval? That his loyalty to his brothers outweighed his loyalty to their father? Leo felt as if a fist were squeezing his heart, a painful twinge of hope in his chest.

  No, he could not afford to indulge in it. “I’m taking Pasca away from here,” he decided. “As you should have, if you’d any sense.”

  “I don’t think so.” Aris clutched his portal device and dialed madly. An odd little portal no larger than a dinner plate opened beside him, the black disk lying horizontally instead of standing up in the proper orientation. He reached in with one hand and withdrew a rapier.

  Leo unsheathed his own, but before he could face off against his elder brother, Elsa yanked out a pocket watch and said, “We hardly have time for this again.” Then she threw something small that shattered against Aris’s hand.

  Aris’s eyelids drooped and his grip loosened, letting the weapon fall to the floor, and he followed it down a moment later.

  “Faraz’s sleeping potion,” Elsa explained.

  “Nice throw,” said Leo.

  “I was aiming for his face, but I’ll take what I can get.” She tucked the empty watch casing back into her pocket with an efficient, practical motion that was so very … Elsa, that he almost leaned in to kiss her before he remembered. “So,” she said, “are we rescuing your little brother, or what?”

  * * *

  Elsa tried not to dwell on what a catastrophe this was. All her careful deceptions, the progress she’d made toward earning Aris’s trust … her whole plan up in smoke.

  Leo hovered in the doorway leading out into the gravity maze, trying to convince his brother to follow with an emphatic wave of his hand. Pasca hesitated, his brows knotted with worry as he stared down at Aris’s unconscious form. His weight shifted from foot to foot, as if a part of him wanted to follow, yet another part was tied to Aris with an invisible string.

  Elsa touched his shoulder to draw the boy’s attention and inclined her head toward the door.

  Aris doesn’t like it when I go out in the maze, Pasca signed. It’s dangerous.

  The language was still new to her, but Elsa stumbled her way through an explanation. Leo wants to bring you to the people who took care of him. There will be other children your age, and you won’t have to hide.

  “What’s wrong? We have to move!” Leo said desperately.

  Elsa replied aloud, “He has to choose this for himself, Leo. Otherwise we’re no better than Aris.” Then she signed to Pasca, I know leaving is scary, and I know Aris cared for you as best he knew how. But you can’t spend your whole life locked away.

  Pasca stared at Leo, as if to search for something in his brother’s eyes. After a breathless moment, he nodded. Okay.

  They made their way back through the gravity maze, the clockwork creature in the lead with Pasca carried in her arms. When they arrived back in Aris’s lab, Elsa paused by the formerly hidden bookshelves. “Hold on a minute,” she said, and ran her hands across the spines, this time pulling out the volumes that didn’t feel like worldbooks.

  Leo paced back to her side with nervous energy. “What are you looking for?”

  “Someone who keeps his lab this neat is probably a meticulous note taker. And if Aris kept detailed medical records on Pasca, the records should leave with him. Might need them later.”

  She flipped through the journals and notebooks until she found one with design sketches for a child-size mechanical hand. “Here,” she said, passing it to Leo. “Let’s go.”

  The clockwork creature set Pasca on his own two feet now that they were through the difficulty of the maze, and everyone poured out into the hallway.

  Leo turned automatically in the direction of the ballroom, but Elsa hissed, “Not that way. There are always guards watching the front door.”

  “Where then?” Leo hissed back.

  Elsa’s mind raced, considering the possibilities. The only other exit she knew about was the attic door leading to the airship courtyard. But there were people who knew the fortress better than she did.

  She turned to the clockwork creature and signed, You go out a window. Wait for us outside, we’ll meet you.

  Elsa’s signing was still awkward and clunky with the newness of the language, but the creature seemed to understand. She turned to Pasca first—not quite asking permission, but confirming that he was comfortable with this plan—and then she departed, moving much more stealthily than her size would suggest possible.

  “Now,” Elsa whispered, “where are the servants’ quarters, do you know?”

  Leo nodded. “I can find them.”

  On the bottom floor in the back of the house was a narrow, windowless corridor off which the servants slept. Elsa and Leo had to—very quietly—check several rooms before finding Colette asleep on her small cot.

  Elsa shook the girl awake and switched to Provençal. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s urgent.”

  Colette blinked sleepily. “Yes? What’s happening?”

  “This is important.” Elsa held the girl’s gaze, her tone low and intense. “Can you sneak us out of the house?”

  Colette hesitated, looking past Elsa and taking in the unfamiliar sight of Pasca.

  “Colette?” Elsa prompted.

  She saw the decision in the girl’s eyes, like the flip of a switch, commitment replacing doubt.

  “There’s a side door off the kitchen for unloading deliveries,” Colette said. “It’s kept locked, so it won’t be watched, but I can get the key.”

  She threw a robe atop her nightgown and led the way. From an office near the kitchen, she stole a large iron key, then led them past the counters and stoves and through the pantry to the supply entrance.

  Colette lit a hooded outdoor lantern that she found hanging on a peg beside the door and traded it for Leo’s. “It’s brighter,” she explained, “and aims in one direction…”

  Leo nodded. “So it’s harder to spot from the house. Thank you.”

  Colette simply dipped her head in that deferential manner servants used with their employers. She fitted the large key into the lock and flipped the heavy dead bolt; it unlocked with a metallic thunk, loud against the silence of the house, making Elsa wince.

  Leo and Pasca went through first, out into the night where the clockwork creature waited for them. But Elsa stopped short, her hand on the doorframe. If she let go now to follow Leo, the door would be locked to her forever after. She’d never get back into the house, or back into Aris’s confidence.

  Leo looked over his shoulder and paused, waving at her urgently. “What are you doing? Come on, we have to move!”

  Her feet stayed roo
ted in the open doorway. “I can’t leave without the editbook.”

  “What—Elsa, I need you!” His voice rose in desperation. “How am I supposed to get Pasca back to Pisa without you?”

  “Vincenzo will find you—he promised he’d stay nearby in case we needed him,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “He has a receiver disguised as a portal device that will lead you to where the doorbook’s hidden in Trento.”

  Leo tossed his hands in the air. “I can’t use the doorbook, I’m not a scriptologist!”

  “All you have to do is read the coordinates, it’s not that difficult. You’ll figure it out.” Behind her, Colette shifted her weight nervously, so Elsa told the girl, “It’s fine, we’re done here.”

  “Wait! Elsa—” Leo called, but she was already ducking inside. The heavy door closed, cutting off his words.

  As Colette turned the key and the dead bolt clacked into position, Elsa leaned against the wall. She slid down until she was crouched on the floor in the shadows.

  The guilt she could bear. But worse, there was part of her that felt some grim satisfaction at the act of turning away from Leo in his hour of need—eye for an eye, betrayal for a betrayal. Elsa did not like that ugly part of herself very much.

  Colette’s soft-soled slippers whispered against the slate floor as she moved to the end of the hall. She peered around the corner, checking the kitchen, then returned to Elsa’s side, bringing with her the lantern’s circle of light.

  “Are you well, Elsa?”

  Elsa cast the other girl a wry look. “You mean aside from being a terrible person?”

  Colette paused, as if uncertain how to respond. “We should go. It wouldn’t do to get caught at the door in the middle of the night.”

  “You’re right.” Elsa pushed to her feet, resigned to the course she had chosen. She was staying, so she’d better do it thoroughly.

  She headed back to the mechanics laboratory, and the gravity maze, and Aris.