Victoria’s guards rushed to her. Two of them tried to direct her back toward the airship basket. The others coaxed her toward the platform, away from the lumbering hunk of metal headed her way.
Victoria scanned all around her, a look of frustration in her eyes. Her gaze met mine. She moved toward me.
“Not good,” Harper said, catching up with me. “Not good at all. You knew?”
“No. Well, not until it was too late,” I said as I raced toward Her Majesty.
I heard the sound of footsteps catching up with us as Edwin and Archibald Boatswain IV ran behind us.
“Whose brilliant idea was it to use Victoria as bait?” I called to Edwin.
He frowned. “Mine.”
“You, sir,” I said, calling to Master Boatswain. “Go back with the other Rude Mechanicals.” The illustrious group who’d been on the podium were being quickly ushered away by Hank and Cressida.
“You’re going to need my help, Agent. That automaton is a Scarlette-1000 model. It’s fully equipped to—” he began, but Master Boatswain’s words were cut short when the machine hurled something at the Queen’s airship. A moment later, there was an explosion. Her Majesty’s airship went up in flames.
“Hell’s bells,” I said, picking up the pace as I ran to Her Majesty.
“Agent Louvel,” Victoria called to me.
“Your Majesty, this way,” I said, motioning to her.
Frowning, Victoria glared at the automaton then looked back at Edwin. “Well, you were right.”
“Yes. But we didn’t expect that,” Edwin replied.
“There’s a driver in the machine. That’s the only way it can function. There’s someone operating it,” Master Boatswain said.
I stared at the automaton. There was someone—or something—inside.
“Edwin,” I said, giving him a knowing glance.
“I’ll go with Master Boatswain and stop the automaton. You and Harper get Her Majesty out of here,” Edwin told me.
“Would be helpful if I knew what was trying to kill her,” I said in a singsong.
“If we knew that, Agent Louvel, I wouldn’t be here,” Queen Victoria replied pertly. “Where do we go?”
“Tram under Tinker’s Hall?” Harper suggested.
I eyed the massive crowd that was running screaming toward Hungerford Market.
“No. The auto,” I said, tilting my chin in the direction toward which I’d left the steamauto. “That way.”
“Right. Come on,” Harper said then motioned to Victoria’s guards to follow.
As we rushed away from the scene, I looked back. The Red Capes who had been stationed inside the museum flooded out to help Edwin and Master Boatswain with the automaton which was still ambling toward us.
“This way,” I said, pointing down a dead-end alley.
“What?” Victoria protested. “Louvel, there is no exit.”
“The streets will be flooded. We need to go up,” I said, motioning to a ladder on the side of the building.
“Hurry, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said.
Harper raced ahead and pulled down the ladder. She nodded to me then turned and headed up, one of the guards following behind her.
“Will you be all right?” I asked Her Majesty who was wearing a dress so bulky it could have served as bedding.
“Dammit,” the Queen muttered then stopped. Yanking at the jeweled sash on her waist, she unfastened the skirt of the gown then unceremoniously tossed it aside. A moment later, Her Majesty stood before me in leather trousers. The sight was so shocking and scandalous, I paused. “Not a word out of you, Louvel,” she said then turned and followed the others up the ladder.
Behind us, I heard another explosion and the sound of screams. Whatever was chasing us, it was getting closer.
Victoria’s guard hurried up the ladder behind her. I followed them.
As I rushed to the top, the bottom of my feet started to itch, my hands feeling shaky and odd. A wave of nausea swept over me.
I hoisted myself up and onto the roof where the others waited.
“Which way?” Harper asked.
“There,” I said, pointing, but my stomach quaked. I looked back over the ledge of the building.
On the ground below, I saw a figured dressed in all black, his features covered by a hood. He glanced upward. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I saw a glimmer of bluish-silver in his eyes.
“What the hell?” I whispered. The creature moved toward the ladder. “Harper,” I called, warning in my voice. “We need to move. Now.” Glancing back toward the museum, I could see the automaton. It was still heading in our direction.
Harper looked at me, reading the expression on my face.
“Right,” she said. “Let’s go.” Harper turned and ran, the Queen and her guards following along behind her.
“Three blocks then down,” I called to Harper who nodded.
We rushed across the rooftops. At least I was back on familiar ground.
Her Majesty surprised me. She was always so decadently dressed, a picture of elegance and grace, even in the face of monsters such as Krampus. But that incident taught me that my Queen was no mere posh figurehead. She had practiced old, druidic magic, sending the monster back to his own world. And now, she was hustling along behind Harper, outpacing her guards in the effort.
We dashed across the roofs, jumping the small gaps between the buildings and scrambling over the ledges.
Clemeny…Clemeny…he’s coming.
I looked back to see the robed figure making his way quickly toward us.
He was fast.
Too fast.
“Hells bells. Harper, get Her Majesty out of here,” I called.
Harper stopped and looked back, her eyes going from me to the figure advancing on us.
“Clemeny?” Harper called.
“Go. Just go. Get her out of here. The auto is on Market Street.”
Harper frowned hard then nodded. “Your Majesty,” she said, motioning for Victoria to follow her.
The Queen hesitated. She narrowed her gaze, glaring at the figure rushing toward us.
“Please, Your Majesty, go with Harper,” I said then pulled my blade.
Relenting, Her Majesty and Harper turned, quickly hustling out of the way. One of her guards went with her, but another stayed behind.
“What in the hell is that?” the man asked.
“I don’t know, but we’re about to find out,” I said then pulled my pistol. Taking aim, I shot.
The creature moved quickly, swirling around a chimney pipe. The bullet struck the bricks, causing a blast of red dust. The assailant appeared once more on the other side.
I shot again.
And again.
Each time, the figure moved fast—too fast—getting out of the way of my shots in time.
Preternatural.
“That’s not possible,” the guard beside me whispered, then he advanced on the figure who had caught up with us. The guard swung hard, but the would-be assassin ducked. Swiping out his leg, the assailant knocked the Queen’s guard to the ground. He then pulled a dagger from his belt. The instrument had an odd blue shimmer all around it, a glow that I could only see with my mooneye.
“No,” I yelled then rushed forward, knocking the man off the guard before he could land a lethal blow.
The stranger spun and leaped to his feet.
His glowing eyes scanned across the rooftop where Harper was making her escape.
Seeing the figure momentarily distracted, the guard pulled his pistol and fired. The shot took the man’s attention away, and once again, the stranger moved quickly, dodging the bullet at the last moment. But his move had been clumsy. He was off balance.