The Inventor's Secret by Andrea Cremer
Jack paled, but he straightened, looking directly at Ash, and shook his head. “I’ll need at least ten.”
His eyes moved briefly to Charlotte, and his jaw clenched.
“I need you to buy me a little time,” Jack said quietly to Ash.
“We’ll draw the rats,” Ash told him, and Charlotte’s gut twisted. Draw the rats?
Jack glanced at Charlotte again. “No. Forget it. Let’s just get out of here.”
“This is important,” Ash said. “Too important. We’ll manage.”
Charlotte couldn’t find her voice. Jack drew a long breath and nodded.
“Go now.”
Jack dashed into the rubble, turning once to wave at them, and then vanished behind the hills of refuse.
Ash dropped his sack and pulled out his cane. With a quick twist of its brass top, the metal came free of the ebony rod. A long silver blade slid out, and Charlotte gasped when he pulled his shirt sleeve up and drew the sword’s sharp edge along his arm. Blood welled, running over his skin. Ash held up his arm so the wind would catch the scent.
“Oh, Ash,” Charlotte whispered. “What are you doing?”
“They’ll come for this,” Ash said quietly. “It’s the only sure thing. Be ready.”
Charlotte tightened her grip on Pocky. Her eyes flew up and down the metal mounds, waiting for movement. Her ears strained for the sounds of their approach.
Ash held his cane in his left hand and his sword in his right. His eyes were moving as rapidly as Charlotte’s, but she saw the rat first.
“There.” Her gaze fixed on a scrap pile less than a meter away.
The rat stared at them. Its large black eyes were hungry. The rats were always hungry.
It rose onto its hind legs, exposing its belly—the only spot on the creature that hadn’t been girded with iron plates. Two more rats appeared beside the first, their noses twitching.
“They’ve gotten bigger,” Ash observed.
“They’re always getting bigger,” Charlotte said, shuddering at the implication. On the last run the rats had rivaled cats in size. These were more comparable to collies.
“Withdraw,” Ash whispered. “But move slowly. We need to pull them away from Jack.”
Side by side, Charlotte and her brother began to back out of the Heap. The rats were half a dozen in number now, and new bodies covered in gray fur and black iron appeared with each passing moment, waiting, watching the two humans inch away.
“When we reach the tree line, start firing,” Ash said.
Charlotte felt the soft give of grass beneath her boots instead of metal. Another minute and they would be in the trees, almost to the ship.
All at once, the rats began to move. A swarm of bodies poured over the scrap hills, surging toward them.
In her peripheral vision, Charlotte glimpsed the tangle of leaves and branches. She relaxed her shoulders and fired. Pocky didn’t disappoint.
While the innovation of armoring the Heap’s rats with iron plates made bullets’ effectiveness dicey, the Polar Oppositional Carbine took advantage of the rats’ unique composition. Each of Pocky’s barrels sent a magnetic pulse—one positive, one negative—at its target. Hitting opposite sides of the rat’s armor, the newly charged plating did what opposite magnetic poles do. They attracted.
The quickest elimination of a target required a dead-on shot. And Charlotte had a knack for pivoting, sidestepping, and crouching to make sure each pull of Pocky’s trigger had a devastating result.
Charlotte whistled as the rat she’d hit exploded in a fountain of blood and gore, its iron sides crumpling inward, crushing the beast. She aimed again, and again. Rats continued to implode.
As she fired off shot after shot, body swaying with the rhythm of Pocky’s recoil, Charlotte waited for a break in the wave of rats. It wasn’t coming.
Beside her, Ash cursed. “We’re going to have to run for it.”
She didn’t dare take her eyes off the rats, but she shouted over Pocky’s blasts, “Why aren’t they backing off?”
Usually if she took down enough rats, the rest would retreat, seeking easier prey.
“It’s my blood,” Ash said through clenched teeth. “They’re mad for it.”
“Wonderful.” Charlotte watched another rat crumple into a heap of crimson and iron.
“Now!” Ash grabbed her arm.
Her throat tightened at turning her back on the horde of blood-crazed animals, but she fled with Ash. Even as they ran, she could hear the rats chasing them, their clawed feet crackling as they surged through the underbrush.
Charlotte could hear the bubbling of the riverbank, and a moment later, the Pisces’s scales flashed sunlight into her eyes. She gave a whoop of relief, but beside her Ash cried out in pain and stumbled.
Throwing her arms around his waist so he wouldn’t fall, Charlotte saw the intrepid rat that had outpaced its fellows. Its teeth dug into Ash’s calf. Ash balanced against Charlotte and struck with his sword. Two halves of the rat’s bisected corpse rolled to the ground.
“Come on!” Charlotte pulled her brother toward the river.
Ash’s jaw clenched as he limped at her side. “Run ahead. I’ll catch you.”
“No!”
Charlotte pushed him in front of her. She whirled around, not bothering to take aim but sending a barrage of fire into the furry mass at their heels. A few rats imploded, but most squeaked when the shots wounded them.
“Charlotte!”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Ash wading into the river. Firing off a few last haphazard shots, Charlotte turned and made a break for the Pisces.
The rats were so close. She could hear them, but what frightened her more was the expression on Ash’s face. He wasn’t going to make it to the ship.
From the river, a roar erupted, accompanied by a fount of steam. The blisteringly hot jet of water arced over Charlotte, tracing a line behind her. Rats screeched their agony as the water cannon blasted them back.
Ash gave a shout of relief when Charlotte reached him. She helped him climb up the slippery metal scales. The water cannon continued to propel boiling water at the horde of ravenous rats.
After they threw themselves inside, Ash collapsed on the metal grating while Charlotte closed the hatch and sealed them in the ship. She darted toward the bridge, grabbing the voice tube.
“We’re in, Scoff. Nice shooting!”
“My pleasure,” Scoff’s voice piped. “Horrid things, aren’t they? And getting awfully big.”
Charlotte returned to Ash. He’d already cut away his shirtsleeve, using the cloth to bind up the torn flesh of his calf.
“How bad is it?” Charlotte asked.
“A few bites.” Ash grimaced. “Hardly a meal worth being cut in half for.”
“Meg will take care of you.” Charlotte helped him to his feet, and he leaned on her as she led him to the bridge.
Scoff appeared behind them. He pulled a bottle out of his pocket, forcing it into Ash’s hand.
When Ash immediately tried to give it back, Scoff laughed. “No fear, Ash. It’s not one of mine. That’s Meg’s tonic. Drink it quick before those rat bites put poison in your blood.”
“Thanks,” Ash said and knocked back the tonic in one swallow, shuddering after he did so. “Yours might not be as predictable, Scoff, but they definitely taste better.”
“Of course they do. I care about how they taste.” Scoff grinned. “Meg only cares about how they work.”
His smile began to fade. “Where’s Jack?”
When Ash didn’t answer quickly enough, Scoff began to shake. “He’s not—”
“No,” Ash said. “He had something else to take care of. That’s the reason the rats were coming after us. We couldn’t let them hunt Jack.”
Scoff looked relieved, but then he frowned.
Ash shook his head. “He’ll meet us back at the Catacombs.”
“We’re not waiting for him?” Charlotte asked, horrified. They couldn’t presume Jack was okay on his own in the Heap. It was too much of a risk for anyone.
“Jack can take care of himself.” Ash signaled Scoff toward the controls. “It’s time for us to go home.”
While Scoff guided them beneath the river’s surface, Charlotte strapped herself into her chair. Feeling Ash’s gaze on her, she turned to look at her brother.
“He’ll be fine,” Ash said.
Charlotte nodded, but she didn’t think the knot in her belly would untie itself until she saw Jack for herself.
7.
THE RESTLESS BOUNCING of Ash’s knee for the duration of the trip home channeled into his leaping from the chair and out the hatch as soon as the sub was docked.
“What’s that all about?” Scoff asked as he climbed after Charlotte.
“I don’t know,” Charlotte answered. When her head poked out of the hatch, she saw that despite his limp, Ash was already halfway up the spiral staircase.
Birch was waiting for them at the end of the dock. “How'd she go?” He offered his hand as Charlotte stepped from the gangway.
Scoff skipped the gangway, jumping directly from the Pisces’s scales onto the dock. “Perfect.”
“Glad to hear it,” Birch said. “I saw that Ash was bleeding. Was there trouble?”
“Rats,” Charlotte told him.
“And Pocky didn’t take care of them?” Birch asked. “I’m disappointed.”
“Pocky did her best,” Charlotte said. “But when they got a whiff of Ash’s blood, the gun wasn’t enough.”
Birch nodded. “It’s a shame he was hurt. I’ve been trying to tell Ash no one should go into the Heap with skin exposed. Too easy to get cut. When rats think there might be human flesh to savor, they’re difficult to stop.”
Charlotte gave Birch a long look before saying, “Ash cut himself on purpose.”
“He did what?” Birch gaped at her.
Scoff stumbled back and almost fell off the dock. “That’s why I had to use the cannon? I thought you’d just riled them up.”
“Well, we had,” Charlotte told them. “But it was the blood that did the riling.”
Birch paced the width of the dock. “So very reckless. Why on earth—”
“For Jack,” Charlotte cut in. “To give him time.”
Jack’s name pulled Birch up abruptly. He looked at Scoff and Charlotte and then up at the stairs Ash had rushed to climb.
“Where is Jack?”
“He didn’t come back with us,” Scoff said. “I still don’t know why.”
“I don’t know either,” Charlotte added. “Did you know anything about a separate mission for Jack on this run?” she asked Birch.
“I knew nothing of the kind.” Birch frowned. “And I’d never suggest sending someone into the Heap alone. What was Ash thinking?”
Charlotte took Birch’s hand, pulling him to the staircase. “Let’s find out.”
“Wait just a minute,” Birch said, hauling her back. “I need to check out my beauty first. Make sure everything is as it should be after her voyage.”
“You can tune up the ship later,” Charlotte said. “Ash and Jack are up to something, and I need you to back me up.”
“Back you up how?” Birch stopped tugging Charlotte backward.
“You know Ash won’t listen if it’s just me,” Charlotte told him. “He’ll tell you if you ask.”
“You want me to play the pawn when you’re controlling the board?” Birch laughed.
Scoff pushed past them, running to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Charlotte called after him.
“To get Pip,” he shouted. “She won’t want to miss this.”
“Oh, dear.” Birch sighed, but he followed Charlotte up the winding staircase. When they reached the tunnels, he asked, “Do you even know where Ash went?”
“No,” Charlotte said. “But I can guess.”
Jack had said he’d meet them back at the Catacombs. There was only one other entrance by which he could return.
When they arrived at the platform and found it empty, Charlotte kicked the railing in frustration. Jack wasn’t here yet. The more time that passed before he returned, the less likely he’d ever come back.
“Why is he in the wheelhouse?” Birch asked, frowning. “There aren’t scheduled arrivals today.”
Charlotte peered at the wheelhouse, and sure enough, Ash was inside, looking harried. At least her brother was as anxious awaiting Jack’s appearance as she was.
“This is an unscheduled arrival,” she muttered to Birch. She stepped behind the tinker and pushed him toward the box. “Go on, then.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m just going to stay back a bit.” She tried to muster a reassuring smile, but Birch snorted at her before he went to the operator’s box and stepped inside.
Ash, who’d been bent over the controls, started at the unexpected company. Watching as their mouths moved in a conversation silent to her, Charlotte inched toward the wheelhouse. She stopped when Birch began to gesture wildly. Ash watched him solemnly, nodding every so often.
Birch abruptly burst from the wheelhouse, storming away.
“What happened?” Charlotte asked as he brushed by her, heading for the tunnels.
“Can’t talk,” he blurted out. “Too much to do. Preparations.”
He bumped into Scoff, who was coming out of the passageway, but didn’t stop then either.
Scoff had Pip with him, and to Charlotte’s surprise, Grave had accompanied them too.
“What did you do to Birch?” Scoff asked Charlotte.
“I didn’t do anything to him.” She pointed at the wheelhouse and found that Ash was glaring at her through the glass barrier. “He went to talk to Ash and then he just ran off.”
“That’s odd,” Pip said. “Birch never gets mad at anybody.” She glanced at Scoff. “Unless they steal his tools.”
“I was borrowing them,” Scoff said. “And it was only once.”
“What’s this all about anyway?” Pip asked her. “Scoff said there was going to be a spectacular surprise.”
Scoff’s brow crinkled. “I said we didn’t know what was going on.”
“Which means we’ll be surprised,” Pip told him. “And I’m hoping for spectacular.”
Charlotte was hoping to find out what had happened to Jack, but was bothered even more that she continued to be excluded from whatever scheme her brother had hatched. Now Birch knew something secret as well, and that irked Charlotte more than an itch she couldn’t quite scratch.
“You’re safe, then?” Grave’s quiet question caught her off guard.
“I’m sorry?” She looked at him, noting that he was as pale as he’d been the previous day. He did look more at ease, though.
Grave glanced at Pip. “She told me that you were out scavenging. And that scavenging is horribly dangerous.”
“Pip.” Charlotte put her hands on her hips. “That is not exactly the type of introduction to our home that Grave needs.”
Pip twirled her pigtails in her hands. “Of course he does. And it is dangerous.”
Charlotte smiled gently at Grave. “There are always risks when we cross into New York. But we have to do it, and we’re fine.”
“Are there really man-eating rats?” Grave asked in a hushed voice.
Charlotte glared at Pip again.
“It’s not my fault the Empire feeds prisoners to the rats so they’ll want to hunt trespassers.” Pip shrugged.
“Why are you spending time with Pip anyway?” an exasperated Charlotte asked Grave. “Where’s Meg?”
Pip stuck her tongue out at Charlotte. “I’m more fun!”
“Where’s Meg?” Charlotte asked again.
“She’s teaching the small children.” Pip sounded bored. “You should know that. And she asked me to keep Grave company.” She elbowed Grave, and he winced. “Come on, Grave. Tell her I’m good company.”
“It’s been interesting,” Grave told Charlotte.
“No one appreciates me.” Pip pouted. “Except Birch.”
“I think you’re brilliant company, Pip,” Scoff told her.
“You’re only saying that because I’ll drink your tonics.” She patted her green hair before she turned her attention back to Charlotte. “So when is the surprise happening? Are we just going to wait here?”
As if in answer to Pip’s question, the lift’s iron chain began to move. With creaks and groans, the elevator began to rise.
Charlotte rushed to the railing. When the basket appeared, Jack was leaning against one side, looking very pleased with himself. Seeing Charlotte on the other side of the gate, he laughed.
“Miss me that much?”
“Where were you?” Charlotte pushed aside the relief she felt now that Jack was here and obviously unhurt.
He didn’t answer as he opened the door. She kept her hands on the platform gate.
“I’m not letting you through until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Get out of the way, Charlotte.” Ash limped up beside her.
She started to protest, but when she saw that he was still bleeding from his arm and leg, she stepped back.
Ash opened the gate, and Jack hopped out of the basket. The two boys looked at each other silently until Jack gave a slight nod. Ash bowed his head, taking a long breath. Then he suddenly grabbed Jack and lifted him up in a bear hug.
“Easy there, mate,” Jack said. “You look like you belong in the infirmary.”
Ash laughed and set Jack down. “I’ll be fine.”
Jack pointed at Ash’s poorly bandaged leg. “Did the rats do that?”
Ash nodded, and Jack glanced at Charlotte. “Pocky didn’t come through?”
Before she could answer, Ash said, “Charlotte did all she could. There were just too many.”