“Madam,” Kemp said, “I don’t think I approve of—”
“I know,” Alice said, “but it’s necessary.” She faced the guard and gave the handle of her parasol a single turn. “You. I need to talk to you.”
The automaton took a single step forward. “Peasants are not allowed to—”
Alice touched its chest with the end of her parasol. Electricity crackled. The guard sputtered and sparked while energy coruscated up and down its body. Then it went stiff and tipped over with small crash. The lion tamer and his wife turned and stared. Alice put a finger to her lips while Gavin extracted a tool kit from his rucksack. The smell of oil and feel of metal brought a strange taste to his mouth, and he felt the clockwork fugue descending on him. Very little mattered now except the machines. In no time at all, he had the automaton’s head off. Alice turned back to Kemp.
“Kemp,” she said.
“Madam,” he said with resignation.
Alice took up the tools herself and also removed Kemp’s head. The lights that made up his eyes glowed with indignation, but he didn’t speak. His black-and-white body remained eerily upright. Gavin swiftly unbuttoned the front of the guard’s jacket and shirt to expose and open the access panel, where he saw frozen pistons and unmoving gears. Automatically he traced the line of machinery. It was simple to understand, easy as reading a navigation chart, though a part of him was aware that only a few months ago it would have been a meaningless tangle to him. While Alice set Kemp’s head on the automaton’s neck, Gavin set to work resetting power. He was vaguely aware that Alice was touching his tools, and he didn’t like it.
“It’s not a perfect fit,” she muttered, “but it’ll do for now.”
“That’s my wrench,” he said shortly.
“It’s called a spanner,” she replied, “and you need to keep control, please. You’re not a mad clockworker. You’re Gavin Ennock, and you love me.”
Her words and voice penetrated the fugue and pulled him back a bit. He shook his head. “Right,” he said. “Sorry. Thanks.”
“I am not at all comfortable with this,” Kemp complained as they worked.
“It’s for a good cause.” Alice connected a set of wires and tightened two bolts. In the background, a lion roared over the music and the banqueters made Ooooo sounds. “That should do it. Can you start the body back up?”
In answer, Gavin cranked up the spark generator and released the spring.
“Oh!” Kemp’s eyes flickered. “Oh dear!”
“Are you functional?” Alice asked, helping him sit up.
“I-I-I-I b-b-believ-v-v-v-ve th-th-th-th-things a-a-a-a-a-a-a-are working at c-c-c-c-c-capacity, M-M-M-M-M-Madam.” Static overlaid his voice, and he spat out a string of Ukrainian words. “I a-a-a-a-a-am adj-j-j-j-j-j-j-justing m-m-m-m-m-my mem-m-m-m-mory wheels.”
“Try this.” Alice reached into his chest cavity with a screwdriver. Something crackled and she jerked her hand back with small oath. “Ow! Is that better?”
“M-much, Madam. Spaceeba.” Kemp got to his new feet, a little uncertain at first but quickly gaining confidence. “This body is much stronger than my own, and more agile. More advanced, disloyal to my creator as that sounds.”
Gavin’s stomach went into knots as he shoved Kemp’s body into the guard house and set the guard’s lifeless head on the floor with it. As a final touch, he put the guard’s helmet on Kemp’s head. “I really don’t like the fact that Phipps is here,” he growled. “It makes everything too suspicious. The Third Ward has very little influence in Ukraine, but she’s crafty enough to worm her way into the Gontas’ good graces and persuade Ivana to invite the circus into a trap. I just wonder if capturing Feng was her idea or just a lucky coincidence.”
“We can’t call this off,” Alice pointed out. “We have to find Feng.”
“I know,” Gavin said. “And it’s exactly the kind of thing Phipps would count on. Let’s go. Lead the way, Kemp.”
The trio skirted the back edge of the circus and, following the high stone wall, came around to one of the jutting wings of the huge mansion that surrounded the courtyard where the lions were currently performing through the calliope’s incessant hooting. The banqueters were alternately watching and eating and talking. Through the crowd, Gavin could make out Phipps’s ramrod figure sitting next to Ivana Gonta’s plump one on a shared divan. She was holding a crystal goblet in one hand and watching the lion tamer while Ivana talked to her. A polite, attentive smile creased Phipps’s face, and it looked completely wrong on her. She was wearing a scarlet dress uniform with a gold sash that Gavin had never seen before. At any moment, she might turn in their direction and see them. But then they made the corner of the house and she passed out of sight.
“That’s a relief,” Alice sighed. “Crossing that courtyard was like walking on hot knives.”
“We’re only getting started,” Gavin replied. They hurried alongside the house. The windows were small and thick, as if the builders were trying to maintain a fortress wall but had been forced to put glass into it. They finally came to a heavy door. Gavin tried it. Locked.
“Allow me, Sir.” Kemp extended a finger into the keyhole and twisted. The door opened with a click. Beyond was a wide foyer with a stone floor faced with a number of closed doors and a large archway through which Gavin could see quite a number of human servants rushing back and forth, presumably to wait on the banquet. The moment they crossed the threshold, a pair of automatons stationed on either side of the door, duplicates of the one at the gate, instantly sprang to life. Sabers hummed in their hands and one of them said something in Ukrainian.
“Kemp,” Alice said.
Kemp came forward. At the sight of the gate automaton’s body, the guards lowered their sabers and the humming sound stopped. Kemp spoke to them. Gavin held his breath. This had to work. If it didn’t, or if the guards shouted an alarm, an entire army of clockworkers would come down on their heads. Worse, Phipps would find them. Gavin kept his face impassive as Kemp talked, and Gavin’s inability to understand the language became an agony. There was a terrible pause. Gavin’s blood sang in his ears and his mouth was dry as sand. Then the automatons nodded and returned to their stations. The trio stepped quickly past the foyer. Gavin’s legs went a little unsteady.
“Perfect,” Alice murmured, appearing completely unruffled. “Now where?”
Gavin made himself regain calm. “Down,” he said. “Clockworkers usually like nice, safe laboratories underground. Remember your aunt Edwina.”
“She had two such laboratories,” Alice agreed. “Which way?”
“If I may, Madam,” Kemp said. He led them through the enormous house. Gavin forced himself to stand upright and act as if he had every right to be there, though he wanted to scrunch down and creep through the house like a rat. It wasn’t just that he was here to steal away something—someone—that the Gontas no doubt saw as their property. It was also that he had spent his childhood in a tiny, crowded flat that in this house would probably fit into a closet. Everything here spoke of easy, intimidating wealth. Brass and gold fixtures were everywhere, along with heavy furniture of brocade and velvet. Bejeweled metal statues with a definite clockwork air occupied a number of niches. Even one of them would have kept his family going for a year back in Boston, and he felt an urge to snatch, even though he’d never stolen in his life. One of the statues in a room they passed but didn’t enter looked to be of the Virgin Mary, though her face was stern, and her robes were jagged, as if made of lightning bolts. Over her heart was a cog. Two automatons knelt before the statue, hands clasped. They murmured in monotone.