Rebel Mechanics - Shanna Swendson Page 0,68

me wonder how thin they are elsewhere.”

“You want to go all the way down to the fort?” Everett asked.

“Think we can? They’re more likely to have lookouts there.”

I could hear the smile in Everett’s voice as he said, “They won’t be looking in the sky for us. They think that’s their territory.”

“We’ve got enough power?”

“We can get there and back, so long as you don’t want too many sightseeing excursions.”

Everett restarted the engine, and we drifted downtown. It was harder to make out landmarks below since these were poorer neighborhoods or commercial and industrial areas that weren’t well lit. Alec tapped me on the shoulder and pointed out the graceful arches of the Brooklyn Bridge spanning the river.

“This really is a magic carpet,” I said, tearing my gaze away from the view to smile at him.

“Only without the magic. This is powered by human ingenuity, which is far superior. You like it, though?”

“Very much.”

“Bessie might get jealous if you like this better.”

“It’s impossible to compare the two.”

“Very diplomatically spoken.”

The lowest tip of the city was mostly dark, with the exception of the lanterns illuminating the rigging of a clipper ship docked at a wharf-side warehouse. “What a beautiful ship,” I said.

“It needs an engine.”

“Not everything needs an engine.”

“It does if it’s to compete with the magisters’ ships and airships. If you put a steam engine in a ship you don’t have to worry about catching a good wind.”

We’d gone out over the water to approach the West Battery fort from behind. The water was inky black, but the wave crests sometimes held an eerie glow for a split second. That gave the harbor a sparkling effect. I could have stared at it for hours, as it was utterly mesmerizing, but then something else caught my eye.

A small boat raced across the harbor, heading toward the Battery. It must have been magically powered, for I saw neither oars nor sails. I handed the binoculars to Alec and pointed out the boat. “It’s military,” he said after looking at it for a while. “They’re wearing uniforms, and they’ve got something in the boat with them. Looks like a chest. I’ll wager they’re bringing the payroll over from Governor’s Island.”

“In the darkness? And by boat, when they have airships?”

“They’ll be as stealthy as possible when hauling around large sums of money.” Alec called to Everett, “Bring us over the fort. I want to see if there’s any activity there.”

He returned the binoculars to me while he went to direct Everett. We’d passed the small boat and were nearly back over land. Behind the fort lurked another boat, hidden where it wouldn’t be visible either to the fort or to the approaching boat. It looked like a pleasure yacht, but it bore no lights. I was about to remark on it when I noticed movement on the ground by the fort.

At first, I thought it must be my imagination, or perhaps the shadows of trees stirred by the night breeze, because I soon lost sight of the figures I thought I’d seen. But then they crept forward as the payroll boat tied up behind the fort. That seemed odd. I would have thought that anyone meeting that boat would come fully armed and show themselves.

I leaned as far forward as I dared and adjusted the binoculars, trying to bring more detail into view. The figures on the ground stepped out of hiding, and I cried out in dismay, for I recognized them—or, rather, I recognized their masks. The Masked Bandits were stealing the military payroll.

IN WHICH I ASSIST ROBBERS AND REVOLUTIONARIES

“It’s the Bandits!” I cried out, then wished I’d kept silent when Alec rushed over and took the binoculars from me. While he scanned the ground below, I stared in frustration at the nearly featureless darkness that was all I could see without the binoculars.

“A robbery? Outta sight!” Mick enthused.

“Wait, are they using magic to freeze the couriers?” Alec muttered, frowning through the binoculars.

“Of course they are. They’re magisters,” I said, so distracted by worry that I spoke without thinking.

Alec pulled the binoculars away from his eyes to stare quizzically at me. “The Masked Bandits are magisters? How do you know?”

It was too late to take it back, so I explained, “They once robbed a train I was on, and they used magic then.”

“But they steal from the government and give the money to commoners. The shop that makes my machine parts would have been closed if it hadn’t been for their help. They’ve