“Steady,” Elsbeth Honegger said as she guided down the lid. My shoulder burned as I lowered the pulley, but it was in no way as serious as Holmes’s injury. I glanced across at my companion. He was sitting where I had left him, his hand pressed against his shoulder and his eyes closed. Was he even breathing?
“Concentrate!”
Miss Honegger’s sharp command brought my attention back to the kettle. Glaring at her, I lowered the lid until the two metal components met with a clatter.
“That’s it,” she said, checking the seal. “Now, help with the bolts.”
She moved to the far end of the kettle, fastening the first in a series of hinged latches that would clamp the two parts together. I did the same at the other end, moving in to meet her in the middle.
Through the windows in the copper I could see the ghastly thing on its cradle, oblivious in death. Perfect. That was what she had called it. Certainly, it was less misshapen than the poor soul in Prestwich Asylum, less hulking than Agares, but it was still unnatural, made out of who knew how many cadavers.
The final latch in place, Honegger stood with her back to Burns and Hartley.
“When the lightning strikes, there will be a flash, brighter than anything you have experienced before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that anyone not wearing goggles is going to be blinded.”
“Goggles?”
She walked away from me, calling over to the men. “We are nearly ready.”
Before they could answer, she plucked two pairs of welder’s goggles from a hook and, turning, threw one at me. I caught them, marvelling at this remarkable woman. As she walked back to join me, our eyes locked and I knew what she expected me to do. When the light flashed, the men would be blinded, whereas I, thanks to the goggles’ filter, would still be able to see. As I fixed the rubber band around my head, I glanced at Burns and Hartley, judging the distance between us. They were more than seven paces away. For just how long would they be dazzled? Could I move that fast?
The ship swayed and I caught hold of a handle on the lid of the kettle.
“I wouldn’t touch that,” Elsbeth said. “If it starts to conduct—”
Thunder sounded, but not from the sky above. It came from below, a tremulous rumble accompanied by a vibration that travelled from the floor up into our bodies. Immediately the ship listed to starboard, throwing us against the copper, but the movement felt different from the effects of the storm. There was another sound beneath our feet, the clamour of rushing water. The entire ship seemed to groan, as if its metal skin were tearing itself apart.
“We’re taking in water,” Burns shrieked.
“What?” Elsbeth Honegger shouted.
“The hull is breached,” I shouted as the deck sloped. I hung onto the platform’s rail, stopping myself from being thrown against the copper – and not a moment too soon.
Lightning forked across the sky, striking the main mast. The mass of cables absorbed the inconceivable energy in an instant, channelling it down towards the chamber, the glass ceiling shattering above us. I threw up my arms against the sudden shower of sparks and broken glass, the coruscating electricity flooding into the copper drum.
The moment the charge met the swirling chemicals within the kettle, a luminescent glare flared through the windows. Even behind my protective goggles, it felt as if my eyes had been boiled away. All around was chaos. Rain lashed down into the exposed compartment, the delicate equipment that lined the walls erupting into flames. There was a scream, shrill and panicked, and I looked up to see Burns where he lay in a growing puddle of blood, the side of his face having been sliced clean off by a shard of falling glass. Hartley was staggering, his gun lowered, desperately rubbing his eyes with the palm of his free hand. Even in my addled state, I remembered what I had to do. This was my chance, I could disable him; but even as I half-tumbled from the dais, a terror struck me, more deadly than any lightning. The door to the chamber was open, and silhouetted by the light from the corridor outside was a monstrous figure, eight feet tall.
Agares clambered into the room, snarling with fury, like a monster from hell.
Hartley turned, hearing the noise behind him, and blindly emptied three bullets into Agares’s chest. The giant roared, but did not fall, swatting the thug aside with one swipe of his mighty arm. Hartley flew across the room, carried by the pitch of the ship, and cracked into the wall, his neck snapping like a twig. I fell to the floor as Agares loomed towards me, hair plastered against his bloodless skin and eyes burning with hatred. For a moment I thought that he was about to pluck me from the ground and send me sprawling like Hartley, but he stomped past, heading for the platform. I twisted, fragments of glass slicing into my hand, but I paid no heed.
There on the dais lay Elsbeth Honegger, her body limp.
“No,” bellowed Agares, snatching her from the floor and pulling her upright. Her head lolled back and I could see the vivid burns across her face. She must have fallen against the copper as the lightning hit, the electricity ravaging her body. She hung in the giant’s grip, like a marionette with its strings cut.
Agares shook her violently, her head flapping pathetically back and forth. “I was supposed to die, not you! You were supposed to show me how. You were supposed to end the curse!”
The deck reeled, the ship sinking deeper beneath the waves by the second, and even Agares teetered on his feet, Elsbeth’s corpse falling from his hands. Seizing the rail, he threw back his head and howled at the heavens like a wild beast.
A hand grasped my shoulder. It was Holmes, leaning heavily upon me.
“Watson, we need to get out.”
“You,” snarled Agares, spotting us, the only people left alive on the doomed ship to behold his rage. “Did she tell you? Did she reveal the secret?”
“Now,” shouted Holmes, throwing his good arm around my shoulders. I hoisted us up, almost immediately slipping on the water, and tottered forward. The ship creaked and tilted further, sending us crashing to the floor. Holmes cried out, and then the monster of a man was upon us. He flipped me over as if I weighed no more than an infant and yelled into my face.
“Tell me what she said!”
I tried to wrestle his hands from my lapels, but it was hopeless. He was too strong, and I had used up what remained of my already depleted resources.
“Tell me how to die!”
There was the crack of a gun, and my world was painted red. Agares slumped down upon me, crushing from my lungs what little air remained in them. I tasted copper in my mouth, my sight obscured by a crimson sheen.
I reached up, pulling the goggles from my head. Holmes appeared beside me, throwing Burns’s discarded gun aside. He yanked at Agares’s body with his good arm, screaming as his wounded shoulder took the strain. I pushed upwards, attempting to roll the dead weight off me. Agares had wanted to know how to die, and Holmes had showed him, delivering a shot to the man’s head, but I was determined that we should not join the devil in hell just yet. I wriggled from beneath his body and grabbed Holmes. Fighting against the yawing deck, I pulled him up to the door, crying out with the effort.
As I thrust Holmes out into the corridor, I glanced back and froze. Now it was the detective’s turn to urge me on, yelling at me that we had to reach the lifeboats before the ship went down.
His shout broke the spell, and I hauled myself through the door, flinging Holmes’s arm around my shoulder. As I propelled us along the corridor, what I had seen in the chamber clawed at my mind.
It wasn’t the sight of Agares’s body rolling over on the deck, his yellow eyes meeting mine, that had chilled me more than the rain that fell from above.
No, it was the pale face in the window of the copper drum, pressed against the glass, screaming to be saved.