Clockwork Lies: Iron Wind (Clockwork Heart trilogy) Read online

  Clockwork Lies: Iron Wind

  by Dru Pagliassotti

  Copyright © 2014 by Dru Pagliassotti

  E-Book Edition

  Published by

  EDGE Science Fiction and

  Fantasy Publishing

  An Imprint of

  HADES PUBLICATIONS, INC.

  CALGARY

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  Dedication

  To my sister, Leah.

  Chapter One

  Dark skies formed an ominous backdrop to the bright silk pavilions and balloons of Mareaux’s Festival of Flight. The cool breeze smelled like pending rain.

  “I don’t like the looks of this,” Taya muttered, her eyes fixed on the sky. The breeze ruffled her short auburn hair. Back home in Ondinium, skies this gray would keep an icarus alert and ready to land at the first roll of thunder.

  The man walking next to her, one sleeve-hidden hand on her forearm, said nothing. Even when he wasn’t required to remain mute under heavy robes and a glass-lensed ivory mask, the Demican lieutenant was a man of few words. Even if he had argued for an hour before reluctantly agreeing to this morning’s ruse.

  But, as Cristof had explained over a glass of bismuth powder, he couldn’t possibly maintain his ambassadorial dignity while dangling 1,000 feet in the air with an acute case of food poisoning. Which was why the disgruntled lictor was covered like an exalted while the real exalted hid in Ondinium’s pavilion, soothing his roiling stomach with ginger tea and dry toast.

  Taya cast another look at the ominous clouds. The Festival was intended to honor and impress Ondinium’s ambassador, which meant that she couldn’t wear her wings without suggesting, undiplomatically if accurately, that she mistrusted the nation of Mareaux’s flight capacity.

  Their destination was the queen’s personal aerostat, its 55-yard-long silk envelope dyed deep purple— the same hue as the pinot noir wine that was Mareaux’s most popular export. A complex network of pale cordage which draped over the dirigible’s envelope fastened it to the wicker gondola, which had been painted light blue with gilt highlights. Ondinium’s peacetime flag, a speckle of silver stars against a field of black, fluttered next to Mareaux’s gold-and-purple banner.

  Giant steel cylinders surrounding the dirigible contained, Taya had been informed by her husband’s enthusiastic lecture, a rare and expensive buoyant gas. The large hose emerging from one of the cylinders’ tops was being fed by crewmembers into an opening within the aerostat’s envelope.

  Taya thought trusting her life to fabric, wicker, and gas was insane. She’d rather put her faith in well-forged ondium and her own strength and reflexes.

  Amcathra squeezed her arm, alerting her that Queen Iancais was approaching. The queen was comfortably plump and round-faced, with cheerful blue eyes and flyaway red hair that kept slipping out of the fancy royal hairstyles in which it was pinned. She was in her fifties, a widow of two years who was being courted by one of Alzana’s ambassadors but appeared in no hurry to remarry as her three children came of age. Taya liked the queen but hoped she remained single; Iancais’s marriage to an Alzanan would be a diplomatic fiasco for Ondinium.

  Taya sank into a deep curtsey as the queen approached. Next to her, Amcathra remained stock-still in his borrowed ivory mask and long, heavy layers of jewel- and embroidery-encrusted robes.

  The queen curtseyed to him.

  “Good morning, Exalted,” she said. She offered Taya a friendly smile. “Icarus.”

  “Good morning, Your Highness,” Taya replied, in Mareaux. “I hope this day finds you well.”

  “Likewise. You look lovely, Taya. What a charming gown! Whenever you wear one of our styles, your Mareaux ancestry shines through.”

  “Thank you.” Taya’s paternal grandparents came from Mareaux, and her inherited auburn hair and fair skin had been a source of great discontent throughout her life. She’d always wanted the black hair and copper skin of a purebred Ondinium. “We were wondering if the festival would still be held. The weather doesn’t seem promising.”

  “My pilot assures me that we’ll be safe, although perhaps we will need to move our post-flight picnic indoors,” the queen said, addressing Taya’s companion, as was proper. “I would be loathe to cancel the flight, Exalted. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.”

  “The exalted has spoken of little else,” Taya said, honestly. She didn’t add it had been with more trepidation than enthusiasm. Cristof was fascinated by the technology of dirigible flight. He wasn’t, however, enthralled by the experience.

  “Then I’m sure you’ll want to meet our pilot,” the queen said, still addressing Cristof’s blank ivory mask while gesturing to the air crew who stood around them. In moments, a newcomer joined the party. “Exalted Forlore, allow me to introduce Professor Cora Dautry, who is in charge of our flight today.”

  Dautry’s eyes moved uneasily from Taya to the masked figure by her side. Like most women in Mareaux, she wore a dress, although Taya noted with envy that it was plain and utilitarian, with a skirt hemmed high enough to permit easy walking. She wondered if Jayce would be willing to hem her skirts a little higher.

  The professor curtseyed even more awkwardly than Taya.

  “Professor Dautry will be accompanying you back to Ondinium as part of our exchange agreement,” the queen said. “She’s taken balloons and dirigibles up over two hundred times for the Mareaux Royal University and has been my personal pilot for two years. We’re fortunate to be in her capable hands today.”

  The professor colored and curtseyed again, muttering something inaudible. She reminded Taya of Cristof, who also fell short when it came to the social graces.

  “We’re pleased to meet you,” Taya said, as warmly as she could. “I hope you’ll allow us to ask questions while we’re in flight. The exalted has read as much as he can about dirigibles, but of course books are no replacement for experience.”

  “I will be happy to answer your questions,” the professor replied in accented Ondinan. “I hope you will answer mine, too. I am very curious about icarus flight, and little has been written about it.”

  “There isn’t much to say. The principles are the same as bird flight. It’s nothing as advanced as this.” Taya gestured toward the small, well-insulated steam engine tucked in the back of the gondola. Cristof had told her that it drove the propellers.

  “But there’s nothing published about ondium,” Dautry insisted. “Perhaps if we understood more about it….”

  “I’m sure there must be a paper written about it somewhere,” Taya said, vaguely. If there were, Professor Dautry would never read it. Ondinium was infamous for keeping its scientific findings secret, although it eagerly welcomed reports about technologies developed in other countries. “I’m afraid I don’t understand its physics; I just use it.”

  “I have read a few speculative papers,” Dautry said. “The most provocative theory is that it’s aethereally transmissive.”

  “Ah…” Taya wished Cristof were with her. To her surp
rise, Amcathra lightly squeezed her arm. He didn’t know an exalted’s tap code, but… “That’s quite possible.”

  Since when did the lictor know anything about physics? Or was he just signaling her to get a move on?

  “Perhaps you will have a chance to exchange thoughts on the matter with Exalted Forlore during your trip to Ondinium,” Queen Iancais said, checking the tiny golden pocket watch that had been Cristof’s gift to their host.

  “Excuse me, your highness,” Dautry said quickly, in Mareaux. “Of course. Your highness. Exalted.” She curtsied and hurried off.

  Distant thunder rumbled. The clouds were moving closer.

  “I’m afraid it’s the rainy season,” the queen said, glancing upward. “Our storms move south from the Corundiel Sea. It must be snowing in Ondinium already.”

  “I’m sure it is. Enjoying Mareaux’s long, warm autumn has been a pleasant change for us,” Taya replied. “It will be difficult to return to cold weather.”

  “What a pity the exalted can’t stay through the winter.”

  “Unfortunately, the High Council insists he return.”

  “Of course.” The queen knew as well as Taya that the decaturs would never let their only exalted ambassador out of the country for more than a few weeks at a time. “Given the weather, I’m afraid this will be a short flight. Perhaps we will can arrange a longer, private flight when the weather is better. I’m sure the exalted would prefer to go aloft in greater seclusion and comfort.”

  Meaning, without his mask and robes.

  “He would enjoy that, if time and the weather permit,” Taya lied. With luck, the queen’s offer of a second flight was as politely meaningless as her offer to let them remain through the winter.

  “Your highness?” Dautry unlocked the small door to the gondola. “If you’re ready, we should leave now.” She glanced up at the sky, smoothing a strand of hair behind one ear. “The storm is moving in quickly.”

  Taya took a few minutes to ensure that her robed and masked companion was comfortable, his heavily embroidered and jeweled sleeves and hem tucked in where they wouldn’t interfere with Dautry’s piloting. The long wicker gondola could barely contain all four of them, so filled was it with boxes and bundles.

  “Experimental equipment,” the queen explained with an amused, apologetic smile. “I allow the professor to pursue her research when we’re not using the vehicle for a pleasure flight.”

  Taya made a mental note of the labels. Cristof and the High Council would be interested in their contents, even if they meant nothing to her.

  Trumpets rang across the field and the rest of the ambassadors entered the other nine aerostats. The crowds in the field thinned, leaving the ground crews to continue their work.

  The queen, Taya, her disguised companion, and the professor stood close while the small steam engine started chugging and the ground crew cast off lines. Taya maneuvered herself between Lieutenant Amcathra and the others to protect him from accidental discovery. He was taller and broader than Cristof, although the stiff formal robes did much to hide his physique and the exalted’s ornately coiffed black wig covered his light blond hair.

  “Are you looking forward to being in the air again, Icarus?” asked the queen.

  “I always enjoy flying. But I don’t understand how something as insubstantial as a gas can lift all this weight.”

  “It’s miraculous, isn’t it?” Iancais steadied herself as the gondola lurched and the aerostat ascended.

  Taya leaned over the edge of the gondola to watch the ground recede.

  “I’m surprised Mareaux doesn’t use dirigibles for transportation or trade. A vehicle like this would have a lot of practical uses.”

  Dautry cleared her throat.

  “Miss Icarus, if you would please stay inside the gondola….”

  “Oh, sorry. Please, call me Taya.” She’d finally given up trying to explain that she wasn’t “Miss Icarus.” Mareaux’s naming conventions were different from Ondinium’s; not only did they assume her caste title was her last name, they also failed to realize that she and Cristof were married, since she wasn’t “Mrs. Forlore.” They’d assigned Cristof and Taya separate rooms, although at least they were in the same suite.

  The floating aerostats were a cheerful sight, their bright flags and colors glimmering against the dark sky. Someone on the vehicle flying the Samaran flag waved at them, and Taya waved back.

  Her companion shifted, squeezing her arm again. Taya dragged her attention away from their surroundings.

  “Are dirigibles useful for transportation?” she asked, repeating her earlier question.

  “Not really.” The queen’s tone was amused. She knew why Taya was asking. “They can’t carry much weight, especially over a distance. At the moment, they’re most useful to us as observation posts during sporting events and field exercises.”

  Taya nodded. So, Mareaux was prepared to admit that the vehicles had some military utility, although not as much as the High Council had feared. The decaturs would be glad to hear that. They didn’t care for any challenge to Ondinium’s control of the skies.

  “How high have you flown?” she asked Professor Dautry. The pilot was relaxed as she kept an eye on her instruments.

  “I’ve personally gone up to ten thousand feet.” She tapped a brass barometer that had been affixed to one of the sides of the gondola, next to a compass, a thermometer, and several instruments Taya didn’t recognize.

  “Did you get nauseous?” Altitude sickness was a problem for the daredevil icarii who sought to break the record for highest flight.

  “No, but I didn’t stay up very long. We have to be very careful, with gas.” Dautry gestured at the long, cylindrical envelope over their heads. “Several pilots have died in explosions while trying to establish new height records.”

  Explosions? Taya swallowed. Nobody had warned her about explosions. She struggled to remember the other questions she was supposed to ask.

  “Have you… uh, have you succeeded in flying against air currents?”

  The professor rocked her hand back and forth. “With some effort, yes. Not when the wind is strong. It’s the weight problem again. Ondinium manufactures the smallest and most efficient steam engines in the world, but if they’re powerful enough to fight strong winds, they’re too heavy for an aerostat.”

  “Couldn’t you build a bigger envelope?”

  “Then we’d have different problems, such as fuel consumption and envelope folding.” Dautry shrugged. “Perhaps the problem will be resolved with Alzana’s new electromagnetic engines. I hear they’ve already had some success using them on their aereonave.”

  Amcathra shifted. Taya didn’t know what electromagnetic or aeronave meant, but if they alarmed the lictor, they would alarm the Council. Any time the Alzanans invented something new, it alarmed the Council.

  “Designing a more efficient aerostat is one of the projects Professor Dautry hopes to address with your Great Engine,” the queen interjected.

  “I’m sure Ondinium will be eager to assist,” Taya said, wondering if the Council would ever let an improved dirigible get off the drawing board.

  Wind gusted, jerking the vehicle to one side. Dautry turned her attention back to their progress with an oath that didn’t seem quite appropriate to use around a queen.

  Next to Taya, Lieutenant Amcathra laid a gloved hand on the edge of the basket. The long ends of his silk sleeve dangled over the edge.

  Around them, the other aerostats began falling out of their neatly arranged order as they compensated for the wind.

  “What’s wrong?” the queen asked.

  “There’s…” Dautry started to answer when the gondola tilted. Taya instinctively leaned back to counterbalance it. “Damn!”

  The gondola lurched again and Taya heard the sickening sound of fabric ripping. Everyone looked up a
s one of the dirigible’s fins plummeted past them, scattering bits of debris behind it.

  Dautry struggled with the steering controls.

  Amcathra started to say something and Taya elbowed him in the ribs.

  “What happened?” she demanded.

  “Accident,” their pilot snapped. “I’ll take us down.”

  “Well, it seems we won’t fly as far as we’d hoped,” the queen said, her voice strained. “You have nothing to worry about, Exalted. Professor Dautry is an expert pilot.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Taya asked.

  Dautry didn’t answer, concentrating on her steering controls.

  Feeling helpless, Taya leaned over the gondola’s edge again. The gusty winds were carrying them out of the palace grounds toward Echelles. Thunder rumbled.

  “We need to get down before the lightning gets closer,” she said, then mentally chided herself for stating the obvious. Dautry ignored her. The queen smoothed her skirts.

  “There may not be any lightning at all, if—” Queen Iancais began. A distant flicker made her swallow the rest of her words. “Professor, please bring us down as quickly and as safely as you can.”

  The winds were driving the dirigible west. Taya watched, every muscle taut with anxiety, as Dautry fought to compensate for the crippled steering mechanism. The professor wasn’t battling the wind so much as attempting to ride it to the ground. Taya wanted to shout at her to go faster, but she grit her teeth and stayed silent.

  Thunder cracked, sounding closer. The storm had turned the early dawn back to dusk. They were over the outskirts of the city now, well above its peaked roofs. Beyond Echelles’ city walls curled a dull gray line of water, the Pomander River, a distributary from the Corundiel Sea. The river was paralleled by the iron rails of the Grand Mareaux Railway, which stretched south to the coast and north to Mareaux-Ondinium Terminal.

  Amcathra grasped her arm. She looked at him, shaking her head. He gestured with a silk-draped hand toward Queen Iancais’ feet.

  “Your Highness…” Taya said, confused. She wasn’t sure what he wanted.