Gavin slipped down the dark tunnel, the Impossible Cube clutched tight to his chest. The sandy floor ground unpleasantly beneath his boots, and he was uncomfortably aware that he stood out like a torch with his white leathers and blue wings. Fortunately, he hadn’t met any squid men. For once the clockwork plague worked in his favor—clockworkers sometimes became so engrossed in something fascinating that they forgot mundane duties, such as posting guards.
Back in the main cavern behind him, the Lady was moored at a small stone quay, her half-lit envelope glimmering like a tethered star. The giant squid that had towed her there was nowhere to be seen. Gavin had slipped aboard and quietly reconnected the generator so her envelope would lift her again, but he didn’t power the machine up fully to avoid calling attention to the situation. Now he just had to rescue his reason to escape.
Doors faced the tunnel, all of them heavy, all of them shut. He tried one and found it unlocked. On the other side was a laboratory—sharp glassware, smoking burners, gooey things in jars, a rubbery segment of tentacle on a dissecting table. An operating table with blue bloodstains hunkered in the corner amid a nauseating smell of sulfur. The sight oozed over Gavin’s skin and made him shiver. Thank God Alice and Phipps weren’t here. He slipped back into the tunnel.
The Cube shifted in Gavin’s hands, almost as if it resisted being moved. Dr. Clef had once said the Cube always stayed in a fixed point in space and time, that it never actually went anywhere and instead forced the universe to move around itself, like a rock in a river. It rather felt to Gavin that if he lost control of the Cube, it might go spinning away from him, punching holes in space-time like a hot needle, and the possibility unnerved him.
His fingers tightened around the Cube’s springy surface as he slipped down the long cave, trying to listen, but the heavy doors trapped sound and light. The only noise was the soft clink of metal wings on his back and his heart pounding in his ears while he searched. He was always looking for something. It had started when pirates attacked the Juniper, the airship on which he had spent most of his childhood. That attack had stranded him in London, forcing him to search for a way home. Then he had met Alice, and he had found himself constantly searching for a way to have her in his life. Then he had been infected with the clockwork plague, and he searched for a cure. And just lately, he had learned from a woman who could see the future that his father, the man who had abandoned him, was still alive and his destiny was somehow “entwined” with Gavin’s. The thought both thrilled Gavin and angered him beyond measure. He wanted to find his father and grab him in a big bear hug even as he wanted to punch him in the gut.
To his horror, he realized he was singing under his breath:
I picked a rose, the rose picked me,
Underneath the branches of the forest tree.
The moon picked you from all the rest
For I loved you best.
He stopped himself. Gavin used to think his grandfather had taught him that song, but lately he’d begun to wonder if it had come from his father instead, if his father hadn’t sung it to his mother when they were young and in love. If so, it was more than a little unsettling that Gavin had gotten Alice to fall in love with him by singing it to her. Or maybe that was just fitting. He would have to ask his father. If he could find him.
Tension tightened every muscle and joint, and anger burned in his belly. Alice. Al-Noor would pay for touching Alice. The thought of the man laying a hand on her unleashed a red, snarling fury and made his fists clench until they ached. He wanted to storm through the caves, brandishing the Impossible Cube like Zeus with a bucketful of thunderbolts. The Cube bit into his fingers.
Calm, he told himself. Calm. He had a right to be angry about al-Noor taking Alice, but actual murder . . . That still lay beyond him. Not even the plague could make him into a murderer. Not yet. Though it was true that he could use the Cube to bring down the entire cave and peel the flesh from al-Noor’s bones with—
Gavin ground his teeth, and a bead of sweat ran down the side of his head. Damn it, he had to get control of himself. He didn’t really want to kill al-Noor, and the squid men were his innocent pawns. At least now al-Noor wasn’t in a position to destroy the Lady and drown Alice, which freed Gavin to effect a rescue. If he could just find her.
He was putting out his hand to try another door when he heard the crash of breaking crockery. Gavin turned, trying to orient on the sound. A moment later, he heard the scream. An icy spear drove through his heart. Alice! He tried to find the source of the sound, but the tunnel echoed and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Frantic, he ran up and down the stony path. Alice was hurt. Alice was dying. He had all this power, and he couldn’t help her. More than a dozen doors faced him, and he had no clue which was the right one. It was like one of those dreams in which he had something to do but couldn’t do it, no matter how hard he tried.
Another crash brought his head around. This time he was able to get a better sense of the noise—it seemed to come from one of the first doors, some thirty yards behind him, but he still couldn’t tell exactly which one. Gavin didn’t even think. He opened his mouth and sang. A hard, crystalline note streamed from his throat. The Impossible Cube drank the note in, twisted it, changed it into something alien. Power poured out of the Cube in all directions, and the wings on his back quivered with sympathetic vibrations as every door smashed into splinters. Chunks of wood pelted the air. From one of the newly open doorways, light streamed. Gavin cut the note short and dashed into the stony room while bits of sawdust bounced off his face like warm snowflakes.
Al-Noor was aiming a large pistol at Alice across the ruins of a dinner table while two of a group of squid men held a struggling Phipps. The dead squid man on the floor barely registered. A red haze descended over Gavin. The man had threatened Alice. With a snarl, Gavin launched himself at al-Noor. Al-Noor saw him coming. He flicked the pistol around to orient on Gavin and pulled the trigger. Alice screamed. The universe slowed down. Air became fluid as water. His body floated in it. He calculated how fast he was moving, the arc of his travel. He was aware of the temperature heating the barrel of the pistol and how brass and glass expanded with tiny crackling noises. He saw where the pistol barrel was pointed and in a fraction of a second assessed the eventual path of the emerging energy. In midair, his plague-enhanced reflexes lined up the Impossible Cube to match it. A yellow lightning bolt cracked from the pistol, crawled slowly through the air, and struck the Impossible Cube. The Cube sucked the bolt down, and the energy vanished.
The universe snapped back to normal speed. Gavin slammed into al-Noor. Both pistol and Cube went flying. The glass parts of the pistol shattered, but the Cube bounced, unharmed. Both clockworkers rolled across the floor, trading and blocking blows so fast, their hands blurred. Gavin was younger and stronger, but he was hampered by his wings, and al-Noor had the advantage of height and a longer reach. Any thought of plan or strategy fled Gavin’s mind. He didn’t feel any of the hits that landed. Nothing but the animal fury burned in him. Al-Noor’s face was twisted in an equally horrible rictus of rage.
“Sing, damn it!”
“Sing what?”
“Any note! Just sing!”
Gavin remained only vaguely aware of the two female voices speaking somewhere behind him. Al-Noor flicked a fist through Gavin’s defenses and caught Gavin on the chin hard enough to make him see stars. Gavin kneed al-Noor in the belly. Fetid air rushed out of him. Al-Noor straightened his right hand, and a needle sprang from his index fingernail. A clear liquid glistened at the pointed tip. He tried to stab Gavin’s face, but Gavin caught his wrist. The older man forced his hand inward, pressing his weight into Gavin, shoving the needle closer to Gavin’s eye. Gavin gritted his teeth and fought back, but al-Noor had the advantage now. The needle crept toward Gavin’s eye, and the light glittered hard and sharp off the tip. It brushed his eyelashes.
A terrible sound smashed through Gavin’s head. The needle jerked back. Al-Noor and Gavin both screamed and clapped their hands over their ears. The sound tore through Gavin’s mind. It was worse than countless claws screeching across a blackboard the size of a galaxy, and he felt as if his nerves were sizzling in acid. A part of him recognized the horrible noise as a tritone—two notes separated by three full steps. The two notes that made up the tone vibrated against each other at a ratio of one to the square root of two, an irrational, impossible number that couldn’t exist. Like all clockworkers, Gavin had perfect pitch, and the tritone, the idea of the tritone, spun him around, threatened to swallow him in the same way that infinite swallowed a whole number. He screamed and tried to shut the sound out, but his hands couldn’t quite mask it. Al-Noor writhed on the floor beside him, and Gavin was dimly aware that all the squid men had fallen to the floor as well.
And then the sound stopped. The pain ended, but the disorientation continued. Hands hauled him to his feet.
“How did you do that?” he gasped.
“I may not have perfect pitch,” Phipps said in his ear, “but after twenty-five years in the Third Ward, I can make a tritone with any note you—or Alice—can sing. Now, let’s get out of here before al-Noor and his squid men recover.”
“I’m so sorry we had to do that,” Alice said in his other ear as they stumbled toward the doorway. “Are you all right?”
“I—I think so.” Gavin shook off the disorientation and regained enough presence of mind to snatch up the Impossible Cube. It glowed pure azure, and it squirmed in his hands. The lattices twisted in ways he had never seen before, moving over and behind themselves, and his own hands seemed both close and far away at the same time. When he moved forward with Alice and Phipps, he could feel it tugging in his grip like a dog that wanted off its leash.
“The Cube,” he said. “It took in a lot of strange energy. I don’t know what that means.”
Phipps glanced back at the room. The squid men, who were plague zombies in their own way and who were also flattened by tritones, were stirring. Al-Noor was sitting up, his heavy belt askew and his black bathing costume torn. “Unless we want to kill them,” Phipps said, “we need to run now and worry about the Cube later.”
They ran. Phipps, whose monocle let her see best in the dim light, led the way. Alice noted the shattered doors they passed. “Good heavens, darling. Did you—?”
“Yeah.” The rage rose at the memory, and he forced it back down. “I’d do it again. Did he hurt you?”
“No, though he planned to. Your timing was perfect.”
The tunnel opened up into the enormous cavern. Most of the floor was taken up with the ocean, with a rim that ran around the edge. The Lady was moored to the quay, her envelope glowing softly, and he heaved a sigh of relief that she was still there. Bright sunlight outdoors made the mouth of the cave painful to look at.
They hurried aboard the Lady. When they reached the helm, the Impossible Cube twisted almost painfully in Gavin’s hands and began to pulse in colors: red, orange, yellow.
“What is it doing?” Alice asked, unmooring the lines. Her little automatons streamed out of a hatchway to flitter and skitter in a brass cloud around her.
“No idea.” Gavin held up the Cube. The lattices slid and twisted around so fast, he couldn’t watch them. It was like looking at the sun. “It feels like it’s going to go off or something, but I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Are we cast off?” Phipps threw switches on the generator, and it rumbled to full power. Electricity scrambled up the wires to feed the endoskeleton, which came to blue life. Gavin set the Cube down and took the helm. The Lady shuddered once and rose gracefully toward the cavern ceiling, streaming water from her lower hull. The nacelles were unaffected by their seawater bath, and Gavin spun the helm, pointing her toward the mouth of the cave and freedom. The Cube pulsed green.
“No!” Al-Noor was standing on the quay, alone. His cloak was missing, his hair rumpled, his silly swimsuit still torn. His belt was crooked. “Return at once! I will have the reward! I will!”
The rage threatened again, but Gavin still kept it under control. Al-Noor had no weapons in his hands and was no threat. The plague would kill him in a few months. No point in risking Alice’s life over further retaliation. Gavin spun the dial that cranked up the power to the nacelles and felt the Lady thrum forward. She skimmed toward the cave opening. Gavin felt himself relax a little. Alice was unhurt, and soon they’d be in open air again, on their way toward China. The Cube pulsed blue, then indigo.
“What’s the bloody Cube doing?” Phipps called.
With the sound of a hundred waves rushing the shore, the giant squid rose from the water in front of the ship. Alice screamed. Phipps yelled. The squid reached for the Lady with its dripping tentacles. Gavin snatched up the Impossible Cube and held it out before him. It pulsed violet. His wings snapped open, quivering and ringing out a clear blue tone.
“Gavin!” Alice cried. “What are you—?”
Gavin sang one note, the first note that came to mind. It was the note Alice had sung back in al-Noor’s lair, a D-flat. Only later would he remember that he had also used a D-flat as the base for the paradox generator, which Dr. Clef had stolen and hooked to the Impossible Cube as part of his scheme to halt time. The Cube absorbed the clear tone and TWISTED.
Blackness engulfed Gavin, and for a horrible moment he was falling through ice water. Then the world exploded in a billion colors that pulled him downward into a pattern that became more complicated as he dropped toward it, the tiny particles themselves made of tiny particles made of tiny particles made of tiny particles. He shouted as he fell, not knowing if he would ever stop. He had no wings, no clothing, no body. He was nothing but a voice tumbling endlessly through chaotic patterns. The colors swarmed and drew together into a single pinpoint of light that exploded in all directions, and Gavin tried to hold his breath, but he could no longer breathe or move. Intense heat and brilliance flashed around him—
And then he was lying facedown on the hard deck of the Lady. Wood mashed against his cheek. He lay there a moment, unwilling to move. His sleeve blocked his view. A blob of grease marred the white leather. The generator puffed and rumbled nearby, and the soft vibration of the nacelles purred through him. Ropes creaked. His wings and the power pack pressed down on his back. He became aware that he was breathing, pulling air steadily into his lungs and pushing it back out again. His heart beat in his chest. He blinked, then cautiously moved his arms, bracing himself for pain. He got none. Well, that was a relief. After this kind of thing, Gavin had come to expect blinding, tearing pain, and then he wondered when he had become the kind of man who regularly participated in events that caused blinding, tearing pain.
He pushed himself upright and immediately looked around for Alice. She lay curled on her side in a puddle of blue skirts with her mechanicals scattered around her. Phipps was on her hands and knees nearby, shaking her head. Gavin was about to run over to see to them when he remembered the squid. He tensed and glanced at the bow of the ship. Empty cavern, empty air. The squid was gone. Puzzled and relieved, he ran to the gunwale to make sure. The water beneath the ship lapped calmly at the stones. There was no sign of the giant squid, or even any indication that such a monster had ever existed. Behind the ship, the little quay was also empty. Al-Noor had disappeared as well.
Reassured but mystified, he hurried over to Alice and Phipps. Alice was already stirring, and he helped both women to their feet. The mechanicals came to life as well. The whirligigs started their propellers in short spurts and hovered uncertainly in the air while the spiders staggered about the deck like sailors on three-day leave.
“What in God’s name was that?” Phipps’s hair had come down completely, and she was trying to wind it back into a knot, but her hands, both metal and flesh, were shaking, and she wasn’t having much success.
Alice leaned on Gavin for a moment, and he could smell her hair. He allowed himself a moment to hold her, glad she was safe. Then she broke away from him and, as he had, ran to the gunwale to look around. Her mechanicals followed.
“They’re gone,” she said. “The squid, al-Noor—gone. I don’t see any squid men, either. What happened?”
The Impossible Cube was laying on the deck. Gavin picked it up. It felt heavier than usual. The glow had gone out, and the lattices, while still confusing, didn’t twist the eye nearly as much. It appeared to be nothing but an odd piece of machinery.
“Did the Cube destroy them?” Phipps conjectured.
“I’ve never seen it do anything like that,” Gavin replied, “though I don’t know half of what it can do. I can’t think of how it could destroy just al-Noor and his squid and leave us and the ship unharmed. And what were those lights about?”
“This isn’t the best place to have this discussion,” Alice said briskly. “Let’s leave, please.”
Phipps and Gavin agreed this would be a good idea. Under Gavin’s hand, the Lady glided out of the cavern into the sunlight. The fresh, salty air cleared his head, and he pushed the generator into adding more power to the Lady’s envelope, increasing their altitude until they were safely out of tentacle range. Below, waves broke against the long blade of the rocky island. Gavin checked the compass, reoriented east, and set the Lady skimming away in that direction. The Impossible Cube sat near his foot like a cat in a coma.
“Are we away?” Phipps asked. “Are we safe?”
Alice stared over the gunwale. “I don’t think al-Noor or his weapons could reach us at this distance. So I would give a qualified yes, myself.”
Phipps crossed the deck in three steps. In a quick motion, her brass hand caught Gavin by the throat and lifted him above the deck. Her harsh grip cut off both air and circulation so fast, even his clockworker reflexes were dulled.
“What the hell did you do with that Cube, you fool?” she snarled.
Gavin grabbed her wrist with both his hands, but her brass arm was impervious to anything he could do. He tried to kick, but spots swam before his eyes, and he couldn’t move.
“You detonated the world’s most powerful weapon at our bloody feet!” Phipps’s face was a rictus of fear and fury. “After everything we went through in Kiev, and you still used it!”
The only sound Gavin could make was a faint gurgle. The spots spread and grew blacker.
More gleaming brass whirled into view. Alice was there, surrounded by a dozen angry-looking whirligigs and spiders, and they were all staring at Susan Phipps. Sunshine gleamed off blades and spikes.
“Put. Him. Down.” Alice’s voice was perfectly steady. “Now.”
Phipps glared at Alice for a long moment. Then she released Gavin. He dropped to his knees, sucking in lungfuls of air. Phipps stalked away and dropped into a deck chair. The whirligigs stayed in place but oriented on her. Alice helped Gavin to his feet, and he braced himself on the helm.
“Are you all right, darling?”
“I’ll be fine,” he gasped.
“That went beyond the pale, Lieutenant,” Alice snapped. “He rescued us.”
“By detonating that . . . thing,” she shot back.
“Which you yourself told him to fetch, as I recall.”
“And which you yourself had doubts about.”
“That’s no reason to lay hands on him like a common thug! We’d be dead if not for him.”
Phipps folded her arms. “We still don’t know what it did, either.”
“Just shut it, Phipps.”
“Or what? Your spiders will tickle me to death? Your whirligigs will—oh, never mind.” She rested her forehead in one hand. “It’s been a bloody difficult day. I’m sorry, Ennock. I shouldn’t have done that.”
The abrupt apology caught Gavin off guard. “Uh . . . sure. It’s all right.”
Alice didn’t look nearly as forgiving, but the whirligigs and spiders dispersed to different areas of the deck. A moment of awkward silence followed as Gavin took up the helm again.
“Are those wings getting heavy, Gavin?” Alice ventured at last. “I can help you out of them while you fly the ship.”
Gavin had completely forgotten he was wearing them. Now that Alice mentioned it, they were starting to drag, and the harness was chafing. At his grateful nod, Alice gestured, and her little mechanicals zipped about Gavin’s body, unbuckling straps and untying knots while Phipps stared into space from her deck chair. One of the whirligigs slowed, and its movements became listless. Alice plucked the whirligig out of the air, extracted a key on a long silver chain from her bodice, and wound the whirligig with it. The other automatons continued their work as Gavin piloted.
“Exactly what did happen with the Cube?” Alice said.
“I have no idea,” Gavin replied. He shrugged out of the last part of the harness and helped the automatons set the wings on the deck. “And I don’t have any means to find out, unless we want to go back and look for clues in al-Noor’s cave.”
“No, thank you,” Alice said with an exaggerated shudder. “Once was quite enough.”
“I’m also still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re my fiancée now.”
“Oh! I’d almost forgotten it myself. The attack quite drove it from my mind.” Alice turned pink, then gave a little laugh. “Where shall we publish the banns?”
“Not many newspapers hereabout read English.” Phipps had conjured up a bottle of sherry from somewhere and was pouring herself a glass. “Though I suppose that means you could say anything you like and no one would know.”
“‘Mr. Gavin Ennock, not of any nearby parish, thoroughly disreputable street musician and airman,’” Gavin said, “‘intends to marry the talented and beautiful Alice, Lady Michaels—’”
“‘Impoverished and social outcast baroness who rescued a handsome man with a golden voice from a tall tower,’” Alice put in, moving closer to him. “‘And quickly, please, because she desperately wishes to take this wildly handsome musician to her—’” She suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone and stopped.
Phipps raised her glass at them. “Don’t stop on my account.”
They were saved from further discussion when from the open hatchway clambered a tomcat made of brass. His green eyes glowed phosphor, and his segmented tail twitched high in the air as he picked his way across the deck, his claws making little sounds on the wood.
“Click!” Alice scurried over to pick the cat up. “I should have looked for you. Are you all right?”
Click remained aloof for a moment, annoyed that he had been ignored during what had clearly been a dreadful afternoon, but finally allowed Alice to rub his head.
“Don’t be upset,” she crooned, still stroking him. “We all had a difficult time of it.”
“You don’t pet my ears like that,” Gavin breezed.
“Fiancé or not,” Alice sniffed with mock sternness, “one does not address a lady in such a manner, Mr. Ennock.”
Gavin bowed over the helm. “My deepest apologies, Lady Michaels. My heart rends in twain.”
“Do you even know what twain means?”
“I think he’s a travel writer who wrote a story about a frog.”
Phipps spoke up from her chair. “Pleasant as it is to eavesdrop on a lovers’ spat, we do need to determine where we’re going.” Then she quickly added, “Other than China. Because China has become somewhat problematic.”
Gavin rounded on her, startled. “What? Why?”
“Oh dear.” Alice continued to stroke Click, who made a purring noise like an engine that couldn’t quite get started. “We didn’t have time to explain what al-Noor told us.”
“Is this about the reward?” Gavin’s stomach was tense again. “I heard al-Noor shouting about one.”
“It is.” Alice explained, and every word dragged Gavin’s spirit lower. With China’s borders closed and an incredible reward for Alice’s capture offered, they had no chance of finding out if the Dragon Men could cure a clockworker, and without the cure, he would go mad and die before winter. The fury and fugue he had experienced in al-Noor’s lair was just the beginning. He could almost feel the plague burning inside him, consuming brain and body and leaving behind nothing but empty ashes.
Gavin clutched the helm with white fingers and tried to think, but his normally busy mind only ran in little circles. “What are we going to do?” he asked at last.
“I’ll tell you what we’re not going to do.” Phipps was consulting a large map she had unrolled across her lap. “We’re not going to panic. Got that? For one thing, al-Noor could have his facts wrong, or he could have been lying, or he could have been saying whatever came into his head. He’s a clockworker, after all. We need to find out more before we proceed, and the best place to start is going to be here.” She pointed to the map, though Gavin couldn’t read it from his vantage point. “Tehran. It’s south, so you’ll have to change course, Gavin, but it shouldn’t take more than two or three hours to get there.”
“Why Tehran?” Alice asked.
“It’s the nearest city of any size,” Phipps replied. “And Tehran has large petroleum reserves. China and the Empire have been quietly fighting over control of this region for several years now because of them. At the Third Ward, we called it the Great Game. Russia used to be a player in it, but once Catherine lost control of Ukraine, she didn’t have the resources to keep playing. At any rate, the petroleum reserves mean we can top off the paraffin oil kegs as well as pick up other supplies. Tehran also used to be a stop on the Silk Road back in the caravan days, so there’s likely information to be had about China. It may be al-Noor’s source of news, but we’ll see.”
“And if al-Noor was right?” Gavin said, hands still tight on the wheel. The Lady creaked as if in protest, and he forced himself to loosen his grip.
“No use inviting trouble.” Alice’s tone was light, but Gavin could read the tension in her voice. She put Click down, and he trotted to the gunwale where he reared up and put his paws on the edge so he could look over the side, as was his habit. “We’ll deal with that if it comes up.”
“I still want to know what happened to al-Noor and that squid.” Phipps rolled up the map and picked up her sherry glass. “My father liked to say that a loose end cracks like a whip.”
Gavin said nothing but adjusted the Lady’s course at Phipps’s direction, then glanced at the Impossible Cube, still lying dark and quiet on the deck as the ship turned south.