The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,109
do?”
“It’s only three days till the procession. It’s imperative at this point that we warn the queen. Hopefully he’ll reclaim his toy from the house in Covent Garden and lead us to his lair. Otherwise, we’re useless.”
“What about that contraption of yours?” She pointed at the Aether Engine. “Can’t you use that, or your powers, to find him?”
“It doesn’t work that way. Don’t think I haven’t tried—many times.”
“So we don’t know what he’s going to do, or how he’s going to do it, but we know what date he’ll do it on and that the Victoria automaton will be part of it.”
Griffin’s mouth tightened. “Exactly.”
“Well,” she said with obviously forced lightness, “that’s still something, isn’t it?”
Griffin raked a hand through his hair. “If we don’t find him beforehand, we’ll find him that day. I don’t care if one of us has to hide in the boot of Her Majesty’s carriage. We will prevent Garibaldi from seeing his endeavor to completion.”
They had to. The fate of the monarchy—of the entire country—depended upon it.
Chapter 21
The next two days were taken up with rigorous training and preparation. Emily worked in the lab on various weapons with the assistance of Griffin, a small automaton and her mechanized cat, since she only had the use of one hand. Sam and Finley sparred twice a day, and when she wasn’t sparring with Sam, Finley worked with Griffin on controlling and completing the amalgamation of her shadow self. Jasper practiced shooting with the electro-disturbance pistols and ordinary guns, and experimented with just how fast he could be while Cordelia timed him. The cowboy misfit had become a part of their group quickly, and no one questioned his right to be there.
Warning had been delivered to Buckingham Palace that The Machinist might strike on the twenty-second and security was stepped up around Her Majesty, who sent along her hope that Garibaldi would be arrested prior to that so that “We may continue with our plans.”
All this activity did nothing to take Griffin’s mind off the fact that they were essentially waiting. Waiting for The Machinist to reveal his hand so they could make a preemptive strike.
On the eve of the twenty-second, as Griffin left Emily to her devices in the laboratory so that he might confer with his aunt, the small apparatus in his jacket pocket began to click and clank. His heart kicked against his ribs as he freed the contraption and looked at it. It was to power on once the mechanism the remote portion was attached to began to move—Emily called it “motion sensitive.” Once it came on, it would stay on until it was shut down. The rectangular device in Griff’s hand had a built-in compass that pointed in the right direction and the audio signal emitted by the tracker became louder the closer you got to the tracker. The alarm meant that The Machinist had powered up the automaton left behind in Covent Garden. It was moving.
Elation rushed over him. It didn’t matter that he was in the dreaded lift still below ground, but climbing. He stopped counting bricks and shouted with glee, “Got you! Garibaldi, you bounder, I’ve got you!”
He pulled his pocket telegraph from his coat and sent a message to Emily to come to the surface as soon as possible and to bring her equipment. Then he sent a message to Sam. One more went to Jasper, whom he directed to fetch Finley. He really should have Emily make one of these gadgets for Finley, as well, blast it. The last message was to Cordelia, who was at Buckingham Palace, scanning the minds of staff and guests to make certain Garibaldi didn’t have an accomplice on the inside. The tunnel beneath the palace had been sealed, so there would be no one using it to sneak in or out.
When he finally exited the lift, Sam was there, eyes wide. “Is it him?” he asked, with bloodthirsty exuberance.
Griffin nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “I believe so, my friend. Help Emily bring up the equipment. Jas and Finley should be here directly.”
His large friend saluted him. “Give me a couple of minutes’ head start then send the lift down after me.”
Griffin’s stomach turned. He hated when his friend did what he was about to do, but in the interest of time, he decided not to argue. He watched, slightly nauseated as Sam maneuvered his considerable bulk around the side of the lift. Then, using the caging as a handhold, he