Holly Evernight, our chief firearms master.”
Miss Evernight flushed with pleasure, but she did not try to downplay her title. Instead she stood tall and at the ready as if to answer any question he might have.
“Miss.” He turned his gaze to the table beside her and was finally able to see what she worked on. “Is that what I think it is?”
With a delicate touch, Miss Evernight handed the ring to him. “A pistol ring, sir.”
The thing was exquisite. About an inch wide, the steel ring held on its top a tiny, six-chamber wheel.
Miss Evernight took the ring from him and slipped it on. It hung loosely on her slim finger. She turned it so that the chamber fell toward her palm. Intricate scrollwork adorned the sides, aiding in concealing the true purpose of the ring. “It relies on the element of surprise.”
“I should say so.” Win smiled as she handed it back to him and urged him to try. The fit was snug on his finger.
“Fires a 5-millimeter shot. Close range for true efficiency. A flip of the wrist to aim it…” She pointed to the ornately carved metal panel resting at the side of the firing chamber. “Push the panel to shoot.”
Poppy took the ring next and held it up to study it. “Marvelous, Evernight.” She peered into the empty chambers. “A 5-millimeter shot does not pack much of a punch. I assume you have taken that into account.”
Miss Evernight’s cheeks dimpled, and she appeared a schoolgirl. “Each silver bullet contains a small dose of oil of vitriol.”
“Which will do quite a bit of damage to many a beast’s insides,” Win said with admiration.
Poppy’s severe brow quirked, and he repressed the urge to tweak her ear. “I am not entirely ignorant, you know,” he said instead.
“I would never presume to call you ignorant, Mr. Amon.” Lips pursed, she handed the gun back to Miss Evernight. “Excellent work. When will it be ready for the field?”
“If testing goes well, next week.”
Poppy dug into the parcel bag she had slung over her shoulder and pulled out Colonel Alden’s artificial arm.
The reaction in Miss Evernight was immediate and stunning. The young woman held her hand out for it with a look of near reverence. “I remember this.” Her fingers skimmed over the steel hand before pausing on the tiny star mark.
“The Evernight mark, yes?” Poppy said.
Miss Evernight’s dark eyes lifted. “My grandfather’s.”
“Mr. Eamon Evernight,” Poppy said. “He passed away two summers ago.”
“Yes.” Miss Evernight’s slim fingers did not stop their exploration of the piece, even as she gave her attention to them. “I was a girl at the time, but I remember him working on it. He was quite proud of this hand.”
“Do you know anything more about it?” Win asked.
“It was a special commission. It had made his name within the SOS.”
Win exchanged a glance with Poppy.
“Do you know who placed the order?” Poppy asked.
Miss Evernight finally took her hand from the steel limb. “They were Regulators. A man and a woman.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The pin upon the woman’s cloak.” A small grimace twisted her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to watch.”
“But children will be children,” Win said, drawing her in. “Did you see their faces?”
“The man I saw. He was about your height, Mr. Amon. Dark hair, strangely pale eyes.”
“And the woman?” he prompted.
“Never got a good look at her, I’m afraid. She wore a hooded cloak that covered her hair. However, I remember thinking that they were more than simply partners, for the man called her ‘darling’.”
Poppy’s mouth thinned. “Moira Darling?”
Miss Evernight’s dark eyes lit up. “Yes, that’s it.”
They had moved to go when Mary Chase burst into the room. Her footsteps were oddly soundless as she hurried past the workbenches to get to them. “I’ve found Mr. Talent,” she said without preamble. “I’ll need your help.”
Chapter Thirty
Deep in the bowels of the ship, Mary Chase searched. Sound echoed here; the Thames slapped against the outside of the iron hull and made the air a damp blanket. The stench of rot and dank water grew stronger. A sick fug that clogged her nostrils.
The inspector and Mrs. Lane had fanned off in other directions, each of them taking a section of the ship. Now she was alone, and she did not like it. So many places she’d been, so many things she’d seen, and still her heart whirred and clicked with quick fear. She yearned to break free of her heavier body and drift away. But an iron door