The Mark of the Dragonfly (34 page)

“Look, I’m sorry, but I have my orders. Master Doloman is entertaining a very important guest today.”

“An important guest?” Piper’s heart sped up. The guard had to be talking about Anna—she was
here
. She pressed her lips together and nodded solemnly. “Well, then I suppose you’re going to have to give Master Doloman my message,” she said. Piper reached into her pocket and pulled out a tightly rolled piece of paper tied with a ribbon. “I’ll need you to read it back to me so that I can be sure you understand the message correctly.”

Obediently, the guard removed the ribbon and unrolled the piece of paper. It was blank and covered with a fine film of green dust. Before the guard could react, Piper took a step back, drew a deep breath, and blew out as hard as she could.

The dust hit the guard in the face. He sneezed wildly, waving his hands in front of his nose, but it was too late. His eyes glazed over, and his arms dropped to his sides. The paper drifted to the ground.

Piper felt sick to her stomach at what she’d just done. “I’m really sorry about this,” she said. She reached through the wrought-iron bars and unlatched the gate. The guard watched her pass with a blank expression. “All right, now you and I are going to walk up to the house.”

Piper put her hand through the guard’s arm and towed him across the lawn. She kept a smile plastered on her face and pretended to chat with him. She felt silly as she told him how lovely the gardens were with the flowers blooming.

Trimble had told her the slaver’s dust would be strong, but even having seen its effects on Doloman, Piper was shocked at how completely helpless it made the guard. She hoped it would wear off soon. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, knowing the man wouldn’t remember her words later but needing to say it just the same. “But I have to get inside. It’s a matter of life and death.”

As they made their way slowly across the lawn, Piper noticed a small door on the side of the house, half hidden behind a trellis of climbing roses. It might be a servants’ entrance, she thought. If so, that was probably her best way in, or the way that was least likely to get her noticed.

Piper slipped the guard’s revolver off his belt and held it awkwardly at her side. She knew how to shoot a gun—she’d practiced a little with her dad’s old rifle—but maybe just pointing it would be enough to get her past any more obstacles that presented themselves.

When they reached the door, she positioned the guard on the opposite side of it, facing the lawn. With any luck, she’d have a few minutes’ head start before someone noticed he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

Gently, she tried the door and found it unlocked. Again, a tremor of suspicion gripped Piper. This was too easy. Doloman should have had everyone on alert for a break-in. And why weren’t there more guards?

It doesn’t matter
, Piper told herself.
Even if it’s a trap. As long as it gets me to Anna
.

She slipped inside and found herself in the middle of a narrow hallway running the length of the rear of the house. Now all she had to do was find her friend. She stood quietly, listening for signs of other people in the house. A house this size probably had several servants. She turned left and moved slowly along the hall.
A few feet ahead of her was an open doorway, and she heard faint voices and the clank of pots and pans echoing from within.

Piper froze, and her heartbeat picked up. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Probably the kitchen, she thought. Since she wasn’t eager to try to cross in front of the open doorway unseen, she decided to turn back and go right. Keeping close to the wall, she crept along the length of the hall in the opposite direction, hoping as she went that a servant didn’t decide to pop his head out of the kitchen and see her.

Thankfully, she made it to the end of the hall without encountering anyone. There, Piper found another door that was also unlocked. She eased it open and found herself in a larger hallway adjacent to the main foyer. There was no one in sight.

Quickly, Piper crossed the foyer, passing beneath a huge crystal chandelier, to the base of a grand winding staircase. Sunlight streamed in through the upper windows, pooling on the white marble floor. She started up the stairs, past three portraits of aging men, some of them with black beards similar to the machinist’s.

At the top of the stairs, a hallway curved off to either side. Before she could decide which direction to take, movement from the far end of the left hall caught Piper’s attention. She crouched down by the stair rail as a woman came out of one of the rooms, followed closely by a man. They were dressed in identical gray slacks and
white shirts with work aprons tied around their waists. The woman was agitated, gesturing sharply with her hands. Piper shrank lower as they came near.

“If he doesn’t want to come out, that’s his business, but the least he could do is offer his guest some refreshment. It’s just good manners is all I’m saying.” The man replied in a low voice Piper couldn’t hear, and the woman sniffed. “Yes, I left the tray outside the door for him, but if he comes for it in an hour, the tea will be cold and the biscuits hard. What good is it then?”

The woman kept talking as the pair passed Piper’s hiding place, oblivious to her crouched against the rail, and continued down the opposite hall. Piper waited until they were far enough away, then darted down the left hall and slipped through the door they’d come through.

To her surprise, she found herself in another passage—very small, almost a closet, with two doors situated adjacent to the hall door. A silver tray rested in front of the door on the right.

Piper stepped over the tray of goodies. The revolver held carefully in one hand, she laid her other hand on the doorknob. For a moment, Piper felt a surge of fear at what she might find behind the door. But before she had time to let any doubts creep in, she gripped the knob and turned it.

The room beyond was lit by sunlight streaming in through the ocean-view windows. A crimson and mahogany rug covered the floor, and between the
broad windows was a white marble fireplace. A bronze statue—an elephant fighting a dravisht raptor—stood at one end of the mantel, a clock at the other. In the center of the timepiece was a painting of a mechanical dragonfly.

Piper had expected some kind of lab—a metal room with examining tables, vials of chemicals, vats of strange mixtures bubbling over a fire—but not this … sitting room? Her gaze took in a large desk against the right-hand wall. A sofa covered in gold and crimson brocade stood opposite it near the fireplace.

Lying on the sofa, covered to her chin by a red wool blanket, was Anna. And she appeared to be asleep. Time seemed to stop, and for a second Piper couldn’t move; she just stood frozen in the doorway. Then a door behind the desk opened with a soft creaking sound. Piper hadn’t noticed the door on her first sweeping glance of the room. She tensed, clutching the revolver, as Doloman stepped through.

He carried a stack of papers, which he laid on the desk. He stopped in the middle of arranging them and slowly raised his head to look at Piper.

“Well, hello, little scrapper,” Doloman said.

Jeyne stood in the engine room of the 401, letting her metal fingers trace the words written on the piece of paper the guard had given her. The king’s guards had boarded the train almost as soon as they’d pulled into the station—not that Jeyne was surprised. She said as much to the man in charge.

“What does surprise me,” she went on as she scanned the paper, “is that I’m not seeing King Aron’s signature on this request.”

The guard’s face reddened. “With respect, ma’am, this isn’t a request. The chief machinist orders you to turn over the girl who accompanied Miss Anna on her journey to the capital.”

“Well, that’s where we disagree, sir,” Jeyne said. “My ‘orders’ as regards this train come from King Aron. Notes from his chief lackey are ‘requests’ as far as I’m
concerned. I’m not obliged to hand over anything to you.”

Jeyne knew she should just tell the guard that Piper wasn’t on the 401, but she didn’t like the way he and the others had stormed onto the train as if they owned it, bossing her and everyone else around. She was still in charge here, until the king himself told her differently.

“You’re defying the Dragonfly’s own advisor,” the guard sputtered. “I could haul your entire crew off this train and—”

“Yes, that would be a brilliant plan.” Trimble spoke up, arms crossed, near the engine. “Leave the train and its cargo unattended and put our whole operation off schedule for who knows how long. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time explaining to King Aron how the huge loss of revenue and time was worth it just to catch one little girl.”

“Where is your security chief?” the guard said. “I want him with me personally while we search every inch of this train.”

“Oh, he’s under the weather at the moment,” Jeyne said, assuming a fake tone of regret. “But I’ll open up the train to you and the rest of your guards. Search for the girl all you want, but she’s not here. I won’t have you disturbing the cargo or the other passengers, and you’d better be finished by the time we’re ready to pull out.”

She handed the man back the message signed by Doloman, but the guard ignored it. He spun on his heel and
stormed out, pausing at the door to sneer at Jeyne. “King Aron will hear about this, and then we’ll see what happens to this run-down metal shrieker.”

With great effort, Jeyne tamped down her anger and kept her face expressionless as she nodded. “Give my regards to the king, then.”

When the guard had gone, Trimble took a vial of black powder off his belt and held it in his hands. “Call the 401 a shrieker? You know, I could rig up a couple of my experiments, show him a few surprises from the old girl. How about it, Jeyne?”

Jeyne sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we’ve got to lie low for now,” she said. “The more time we can give Piper and Gee, the better.”

“It’s no fun sitting around here waiting for something to happen,” Trimble muttered. He turned to check the pressure gauges. “I wish I could be there when Piper tries out my mixture. It’s going to be fantastic.”

“And probably land us all in prison,” Jeyne reminded him. She glanced out the window of the engine cab to make sure the guards weren’t harassing any of the passengers disembarking from the train.

“True, but if you’re going to lose your job and your freedom all at once, you might as well do it with some style,” Trimble said. “Besides, maybe old Aron will take pity on us poor railroad folk.”

“That’s an interesting thought, fireman,” Jeyne said thoughtfully, turning to look at him. “I’ve wondered for
a long time now what the king would think of all this business. We’ve heard a lot of noise from Doloman over Anna. Why haven’t we heard anything from the boss yet?”

Trimble’s eyes went wide. “You think Doloman’s kept Anna a secret from him?” he asked. “Why would he do that?”

Jeyne shrugged. “All I know for sure is she’s better off away from both of them.”

“Then let’s hope Piper and Gee make it to her in time,” Trimble said.

Piper raised the revolver. Doloman stood behind his desk as Piper pointed the gun at him with shaking hands. “What did you do to her?” Piper demanded. Anna was so still it was hard to tell if she was even breathing. “Tell me what you did!”

“I believe you’ll find that Anna’s condition is
your
doing,” Doloman said calmly, “not mine.”

Piper’s face went hot with rage. “You’re a liar, and you’re even crazier than I thought. How could I have ever thought this place was Anna’s home?”

“But it is her home.” Doloman came around to the front of the desk. Piper hurried to the sofa, still pointing the gun at Doloman, putting her body between him and Anna. The machinist scowled at her. “I’m not going to hurt her, ignorant child,” he snapped.

“Why won’t she wake up?” The sound of their raised voices should have woken Anna by now, Piper thought. Doloman must have given her something, some kind of sedative.

“Because you were not here.” Doloman clenched his fists, as if the words were difficult for him to say. He moved to the fireplace, leaning his good arm on the mantel. The other was no longer in a sling, but he obviously favored it, keeping it close against his side. “You see, I know what you are—synergist.”

Piper fought to keep her expression neutral. Inwardly, she was starting to panic.
How can he know that?
she screamed to herself. To her knowledge, Doloman had never seen her use her powers.

“I’ve suspected for some time.” He nodded to the papers on his desk. “The research I accumulated on Anna—and you, once I returned to the city—confirms these suspicions. I’ve encountered a handful of individuals who had magic in various forms, but your gift is exceptionally rare. Machines feed off the energy inside you and grow stronger. Your magic emanates like a beacon—even the most hopelessly broken machine will return to life at your touch.” He stared at her, and Piper realized with a jolt that there was admiration in his gaze. “Your power has been a great gift to me.”

Hopelessly broken machines … But her magic had
healed
Anna; she … she should be better. Piper looked down at her friend, and suddenly a horrible
understanding filled her, so quickly and completely that she was dizzy with it. She clutched the revolver tighter, sweat slicking her palms. No, it couldn’t be like that. It couldn’t. “Anna, please wake up,” she whispered.