Legacy of the Clockwork Key (27 page)

The last light of the sun caught in the ripped linen, before the clouds drowned it in a darkly storming sky.

Wind caught in the sails, billowing them out and pulling the ship forward at remarkable speed.

“All guns at the ready!” I shouted, imitating something I thought I’d read in some seafaring adventure I could no longer remember.

I didn’t even know if Lucinda or Oliver could hear me.

The wheel pushed against my grip, and it took all my strength to fight the pull of it and keep the ship steady.

Distant thunder rumbled, and I looked to the masts. A shredded flag with the seal of the Amusementists whipped forward in the wind. I prayed the lightning wouldn’t strike the metal mast.

My heart dropped, but there was no turning back now. The water ahead churned near the small island at the center of the lake.

Lightning was the least of our problems.

WILL LEANED NEAR THE RAIL, TYING OFF ONE OF THE
ropes. I watched the first rolling wave rush toward us. The water foamed, churning like a giant cauldron over too much heat. He could be thrown from the deck.

“Will!” I pointed toward the roiling water.

He grabbed the rigging just in time as the ship was buffeted by the first of the waves.

The deck swayed and I pulled the wheel, trying to turn broadside to the disturbance. It took all my strength, my grip nearly slipping off the handles.

The sky opened up, rain falling in sheets, slicking my hair to my face and spilling into my eyes.

The automatons continued turning their cranks as if nothing of consequence were happening at all. No wonder they’d lost the first time. Clearly they were not taking this threat seriously.

Will hung on to one of the taut ropes as he shouted down the hatch. I couldn’t hear him over the wind, but I was glad he could be a set of eyes for Oliver and Lucinda below.

We were going to need them.

“Get ready to fire!” I shouted, but I could barely hear my own voice. The sails snapped and my arms ached, but I held the ship steady as she swooped to the left.

The Leviathan burst from the water, sending a crashing wave into the open cannon bays. Its long snakelike neck whipped above us a good thirty feet in the air. Long strings of lake grasses and scum clung to the articulated joints.

Heaven have mercy.

My horror nearly seized me as the beast’s enormous flipper slapped the water with a
crack
. Water sprayed from the violent splash. I could hardly see the medallion at its throat as it swung its huge head. A shining silver frill unfurled around its face as it arched like a cobra about to strike.

Its slanted eyes fixed on me as it opened its mouth, filled with jagged teeth. With the weeds hanging from it, I didn’t
see a machine. I saw a great dragon come to life from under the dark waters. An unholy scream of grinding metal erupted from the monster, then it lunged.

“Fire!” I shouted as loud as I could, holding the ship broadside to the creature. Will echoed the war cry. I braced myself for the explosion, but none came.

The monster ducked its head and slammed it into the ship. It missed the mast, but crashed its metal skull like a great battering ram into the deck. The deck splintered, sending Will leaping for safety behind the main mast.

Three of the automatons flew over the cracked rail. They landed like brass cannonballs in the water, spurting great plumes into the air as they met their watery end.

I turned the wheel, trying to pull the ship away from the metal beast. We just had to retreat to a safe distance. A few more feet and we’d be out of range of its neck. The sails caught the wind and the ship surged forward. My heart swelled with hope.

Then the ship slammed against the tether, rolling precariously as I fought for my footing and turned the wheel to keep the ship from capsizing. I brought it back around to the monster. I had no other choice.

Will lay prostrate, sliding across the wet deck as the creature curled its neck and opened its gaping jaw.

No sound came from my mouth, but I felt a scream within me like the wail of a banshee as the beast lunged for Will.

I closed my eyes, unable to look as the bone-crushing blow shattered the deck. The scream escaped, the panicked wail bursting from me as my eyes flew open. All I could see were arms and legs hanging from the creature’s mouth.

No. Please, dear Lord, not Will
.

It felt as if the monster had just gripped my heart in its terrible teeth and ripped it from my chest. Time slowed in that moment. I didn’t hear the rush of the wind, or the wail of the grinding metal, nor could I feel the rain on my face. He was gone.

The monster released the body, and all I saw was a limp form as it dropped into the dark water.

My hands slipped from the wheel.

Dear God. No.

“Will!” I screeched, my voice ripping from me in my terror and rage.

“I’m here!” he called.

Oh, thank the Lord. I looked up just as he launched himself over one of the large gears on the deck.

He’s alive
.

I sent a quick prayer of thanks even as the monster lifted
its head to the sky and roared. The beast had taken one of the automatons.

Will hurdled the steps two at a time as he climbed to me. “I saw the plate. It’s in the mouth!” he shouted, as sheets of water spilled from the sky, drenching us. I wanted to throw myself into his arms—then his words reached my consciousness.

In its mouth?! How in the name of all things holy were we supposed to get it there?

No matter what, we had to stop the thing before one of us was killed. “We’ve only got one shot. Tell Oliver to get those blasted cannons working!” I held on and used all my weight to pull the ship back around to give the others a chance.

Will leapt onto the main deck as it tipped precariously toward the water through the turn. I pulled her straight as the beast rose beside us. “Fire!” he bellowed, lifting a piece of splintered wood and wielding it like a saber.

Boom, boom, boom, boom
.

Four of the cannons fired in quick succession, the arc of each ball sailing closer to the monster’s neck. It reeled back snapping its jaws.

Boom!
The fifth shot hit it square in the center of the medallion.

I let out a whoop of victory, and the wheel nearly spun out of my hands. We did it!

The great Leviathan tossed its ghastly head from side to side, as it slapped the surface of the lake with its enormous flippers. Sheets of water splashed over the deck, then sluiced through the rails.

We were safe. It would sink.

And take the plate with it.

No.

The Leviathan began to go down, the water around the huge brass body bubbling as it descended. Its head thrashed from side to side as it wailed, the discordant squeal slicing through the rumble of the storm.

“Will! The plate,” I shouted. He grabbed a coil of rope and tried to throw it around the beast’s head. The rope sailed through the air, but landed lifelessly on the water just as the monster submerged.

Please, no.

I clambered down the steep steps, slipping on the wet wood, and leaped down onto the deck. Will climbed over a fallen automaton to reach me.

He took my hands then pulled me into his body as the rain poured from the sky. “Are Oliver and Lucinda hurt?”

Lucinda climbed up to the deck, pressing her palm to a cut on her forehead. “We’re fine, just a little scraped up. Where is the plate?”

“It’s gone.” We had been through all of that for nothing. Oliver climbed up the steps. His spectacles had cracked.

Our shoulders sagged as the rain poured down on our miserable little crew. What could we do now? We couldn’t swim down and pry the thing’s jaws open.

Oliver let out a heavy breath.

“We have to pray the location of the castle is on the one we have.” I felt completely defeated.

“Come,” Oliver said. “Let’s turn this ship around and find shelter before the storm gets worse.” He offered me a comforting pat on the shoulder, grabbing one of the epaulets and giving it a little shake. It didn’t do any good.

We’d bested the monster. But we had still failed.

I knew the castle wouldn’t be on the plate we had. We’d never find it. Our path would end here.

And so would any hope of finding my grandfather.

Water dripped into my eyes and off the end of my nose as I hung my head. In that moment, all I wanted was to feel warm, dry, and safe again.

Will released me, and I let him as I made my way back
toward the ship’s wheel. Over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of him at the rail.

“Meg?” The warning in his voice made my heart stop. I turned and gazed out over the water.

The surface was churning once more.

Oh no.

“Brace yourselves!” I threw myself toward a large gear wheel and hung on to the spokes as the monster burst from the surface once more.

Lucinda screamed as its head reared up then whipped toward the ship. The long neck cracked against the main mast in a clash of metal on metal.

The deck rolled as the monster screeched its grinding howl. I hunched my shoulders, but couldn’t protect my ears from the painful cacophony as I held fast to the gear with all my strength.

“Oliver!” Lucinda shouted as I watched him topple over the side and into the turbulent water. Lucinda threw herself at the rail, but the deck pitched again.

She clung to it as the monster smashed its head down on the deck again. The loud snap of splintering wood assaulted my ears.

Will grabbed the rope and managed to throw it overboard
as one of the flippers connected with the iron patch on the side of the ship.

It struck with such force, it shook me from my feet. I scratched at the slick deck, trying to pull myself away from the monster.

Why had it returned?

How were we supposed to defeat this atrocity? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be a way for my grandfather to collect the plate on his own. He couldn’t steer the ship, man the cannons, and retrieve the plate from the beast’s mouth. It was impossible.

There had to be another solution, something we hadn’t thought of.

Play it.

I heard my grandfather’s voice within my mind as clearly as I had ever heard it.

Clawing across the deck, I pulled myself into the captain’s quarters.

The bench of the harpsichord had toppled over and landed on a swath of broken glass. I grabbed it, shook it once, set it right, and threw myself at the keys.

Please, Lord, let this be the answer.

I played the first of the notes.

The great metal beast squealed again, then moaned. I closed my eyes and played, pounding out each of the notes as hard as I could, though the tin sound of the plucked strings could not get any louder. Will shouted in pain, and my heart stopped.

“Please,” I whispered. The ship pitched and rolled, but I played. My life depended on it. The lives of my friends depended on it. The stark reality of our situation shook me, the tremble reaching my hands, but I still played.

A clap of thunder punctuated the song like a great drum in some terrible orchestra.

Yet, I held the stage. This was my song. I believed in the power of it.

As I reached the final phrase, the low groan of gears reverberated through the ship.

Then all fell silent as the last note hung in the air like a man at the gallows.

I lifted my hands from the keys. Stillness. Rain dripped off the jagged shards of broken glass in the windows.

With my whole body shaking, I eased away from the harpsichord and steadied myself against the captain’s desk, then stepped out of the quarters.

The deck swayed with the wind-tossed water, but to my amazement, the Leviathan floated on the surface of the lake,
its head resting against the rail like an obedient puppy with its hard metal jaw agape.

A soaked Oliver knelt beside Will, who had a bloody gash on his thigh. Lucinda ripped a bit of her red sash to tie it off.

“What happened?”

“Caught on a piece of the broken rail,” Will explained. “I’m fine.”

Still, I felt sick with worry as I climbed over the shattered deck.

Oliver gave Will a hand up. “That, my dear Meg, was inspired.” He shook his head in amazement. “You truly are Henry’s granddaughter.”

Standing there, in the cold rain on the deck of a half-wrecked ship on a windswept lake, I felt such an infusion of warmth spread through me, I could have been burned by it. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment as I turned my face up to the steady rain.

A warm hand clasped mine.

I opened my eyes only to fall into the heat of Will’s gaze. He said nothing, but a flood of emotion coursed through me.

If I had died in that moment, I wouldn’t have noticed, because heaven couldn’t have been any more wonderful than the feeling in my heart.

We did it.

“I fear I love you, Will,” I whispered.

Whatever glow I felt had surrounded me, it seemed to encompass him as well.

He brushed a kiss across my lips, pressed another sweetly to my cheek, then whispered in my ear. “You light a fire in me. One I’m not sure I can fight.”

A deep thrum beat through my body as all awareness of the world slipped away. In that moment, only Will and I existed in the falling rain.

He gathered my hands, brought them to his lips, and pressed a reverent kiss to my knuckles. “What will I do with you?”

He said the words softly, reverently. My heart answered a million possibilities, and they all filled me with hope and wonder. I loved him. I knew in that moment, I’d never again need wings to fly.

WILL HELD MY HAND FOR THE FIRST FEW STEPS AS I
approached the mechanical beast. Gaining confidence with him beside me, I let my hand slide from his. The deck creaked under my feet as I approached the monster. I half expected it to rise and lunge forward in a sudden attack, as if its tranquillity were nothing but a ruse to lull me into complacency. I touched the cold metal of its snout, but it remained motionless.