Oubliette Read online

  He narrowed his eyes at her. Clearly, he expected her to fight, not run away.

  Louisa didn’t know what to make of the situation. It all seemed a little too … polished. Why hadn’t the men made more of a fuss?

  A fist careened toward her face. She ducked but didn’t move her feet this time. Louisa caught Joe from the side of her eye. He hadn’t moved except to hold near the inner circle—his stance unchanged.

  So, what does that mean? Is everyone in on it? Is this a fake fight? She didn’t want to be here.

  “Come on, Joe. Your girl isn’t playing along—what is this?”

  “Perhaps if Thomas here put in a little effort, she might be more inclined to bump. She won’t go after someone unless she feels threatened. It’s not in her nature.”

  “Then let’s stop playing around, shall we? Tommy, pretend she’d not a filly.”

  The crowd of men surrounding the combatants mumbled and grunted, shuffling from side to side. The surrounding circle ebbed and flowed like the north and west winds battling across fields of heather, and the bear transformed into a lion.

  His energy and stance completely changed as he sidestepped, channeling his movement, fluid and deadly. Louisa’s heart leaped into her throat. She struggled to draw breath.

  Thomas feinted left and swung his leg out on a half turn. On the double-back, Louisa arched away after an uneven landing. She scrambled around the edge of the ring, now smaller. Every attack had a dual intention and every one of them left her reeling.

  I won’t survive this. Her only saving grace was not having to work tomorrow—not that she could afford to be laid up in bed, but at least it wouldn’t interfere with her job.

  She glanced at her tool belt draped over Joe’s shoulder.

  If I just had my spheres … If Joe’s intent was to prove she couldn’t do this, even with training, he succeeded.

  But then, a faint steady rhythm beat through the growing cries of the crowd and past the thunder of her heart. Joe’s chant welled in her chest as his deep voice sang in her mind.

  Louisa quick-stepped through the lion’s next attack, and she twirled into a kick aimed just above his knee—she didn’t want to maim him, just slow him down. His leg gave out but he caught himself. Before Thomas could retaliate, she attacked his other leg with the same move. He stumbled. She used the heel of her hand and smashed up into his jaw. He spat blood and his eyes watered—he’d bitten his tongue.

  As Joe’s chant guided her instincts, Louisa made one strategic move after another, whittling down the lion’s defenses and making him second-guess himself. The roar of the men blocked everything out as Louisa’s foe increased the speed and precision of his attacks, sending her back on the defensive. With every twist past a jab or kick, and with every duck and jump, the room around them spun until the world became noise, a whorl of color and sound, punctuated only by the clarity of the fist headed straight for her face.

  The Devil’s Road Crew

  W ooden planks pressed against Louisa’s shoulder blades and the back of her head before her ears awakened to thunderous cheering. Not for her.

  Familiar hands gripped under Louisa’s arms and lifted her up. The barn wavered in and out of focus.

  “One foot in front o’ the other,” Joe said close to her ear as he drew her arm around his shoulders.

  She could do that.

  One foot.

  The other.

  Outside, the cool air revived her. Louisa blinked and froze a half second before slipping from Joe’s grip and letting him carry on without her. A dull pain radiated from the socket of her eye back into her head like a sphere-burst—only it didn’t go away.

  Whatever Joe intended as tonight’s lesson didn’t matter. The bear-turned-lion was a setup. Joe knew about Brick. Louisa needed a heck of a lot more training, years maybe, before she could hope to best a man like that. Her dancer’s frame held strength but not power. Either she ended this charade tonight or she put her resources to better use.

  “I’ll see you Monday,” she said, more looking through Joe than at him.

  “Y’all right gettin’ home?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Louisa left the half-blind black man alone in the night. She had no doubt he’d return to the fight barn to settle up for however many minutes he’d bet she’d last.

  The agony pulsing from her eye gradually burned into the fire flaring up from her chest and gut. Morrie was right. This city needed a guardian. If she was going to help him get the necessary proof, she had to fight fire with fire. It was time to call in a favor.

  #

  “No dress tonight?” Princess Brynne Tamerlane Fitzhugh said by way of welcome, then tilted her head to the side, causing her hair veil to cascade over her shoulder. “Did someone pluck your feathers before giving you that blinker?”

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Ryn. And, no, I wasn’t plucked.” Louisa tried to untangle her feathers from her hair. “I was training.”

  “Learn anything?” The engineer reverted focus to her dining-sized table of supplies and resumed work on a new contraption. Her pale blue sari, trimmed in silver lace, contrasted with the greasy gears and worn tools she wielded.

  “That I’ll never be strong enough.”

  Ryn raised an eyebrow as she worked.

  “I need your help.”

  “I know. I’m working on a design for a weapon to counter the flame launcher, as requested.”

  “I noticed you’d finished it. Bug’s still working out the … well, bugs. But no, I need something else—something to knock down a wall.”

  “A wall! What kind?” She set her tools aside and leaned forward.

  “A human wall.”

  “Interesting. Tell me more.”

  Louisa imagined a whirring in Ryn’s mind as it assessed the incoming information and got ready to process and then spit out an answer. She palmed one of her specially made Phoenix orbs and pulled it from the confines of her pouch.

  “Normally, the blast from one of these will knock a person down, maybe even knock them out briefly. It had absolutely no effect on Brick.”

  “Who’s Brick?”

  Now Louisa raised her eyebrows. “You, know, that walking wall Scythe and Bug acquired to help with the last heist.”

  “Hmm … I had no idea they’d adopted a pet. Probably needed an extra hand to pull it off and not mess up again. Still didn’t get it right that night, you know. They’ll have a harder time of it tonight.” She broke from her musing and met Louisa’s gaze. “I do like your names for them though. Apt. From what I know, the overlord has a thing about pairs.”

  Louisa almost said, your father, the judge, but held her tongue and filed away the information—all of it.

  Ryn eyed the Phoenix sphere. “Are you familiar with black powder?”

  Fear stabbed Louisa’s chest. “You mean, what they use to explode fireworks over the Thames on the Queen’s birthday?”

  “Yes. It’s also called gunpowder.” Ryn plucked the sphere from Louisa’s fingertips and shook the translucent ball. A static electric charge built within.

  “I don’t think messing around with an explosive material is quite what I had—”

  Ryn laughed. “And what do you call this?” She held the globe aloft.

  “It’s not the same. The electric charge gives a jolt to—” She caught herself before saying too much. “It’s just not. It works on a different principle.”

  “True enough. But I could give this an added kick with the black powder.”

  “I don’t want to kill anyone. That’s not who I am—what I do.”

  “I can make it non-lethal. I’m very familiar with this powder and its potential.”

  Of that, Louisa had no doubt.

  “Just tell me what’s inside and I can adjust accordingly.” Ryn held the orb high, watching the sparks of light die out.

  She wants me to what? Louisa couldn’t tell her that. It wasn’t her information to share. Sure, Bennett wrote it down in th
e patent, but that remained filed away in the city clerk’s office under an official seal with limited access.

  Ryn raised her eyebrows. Her perfectly painted red lips pursed. No emotion reached her eyes … none ever did—well, except when she was in pain.

  Louisa didn’t know this girl. How could she trust someone who made weapons for the enemy? Someone whose father abused his position to further his own agenda?

  But she’s not them. She’s an inventor and an engineer … Without her, I’ll never be anything more than a girl in a mask pretending she can make a difference.

  “If I reveal the chemistry, the ingredients, how do I know you won’t share it with your boss or use it in a weapon for someone else?”

  A flash of something distorted the other woman’s flawless features. Louisa almost convinced herself it hadn’t happened except for Ryn’s tone.

  “Given that we’re newly acquainted, I’ll ignore the slight and simply say that I stand by my reputation, my work, and my name. Do you want my help or not? Makes no nevermind to me.” She tossed the sphere back.

  Louisa caught it close to her chest. The women stared at one another across the workspace. A fragile tension ignited the air, poised to snap.

  “All right. I believe you. Let’s do this.”

  #

  Half an hour later, Louisa skirted the outer edge of the warehouse district, playing out a hunch. She’d opted not to return home to change but to go this way before it got too late. Seemed the Judge liked to operate his band of thugs during shift changes—at least, that was Morrie’s theory. It was easier to delay someone than corrupt them.

  The chill, damp air clung to her black chemise and hose. She didn’t bring non-essential layers to training sessions, staying more than warm from the physical exertion Joe put her through. Her black leather bodice and fingerless gloves helped stave off the worst of the cold, except when she stood still, listening to the night breathe. Odds were, her hunch was wrong, but with only one way to find out, she’d left Ryn’s workshop with her cache and a promise to visit soon.

  Louisa fidgeted with one of the extra trident needles, stoppers Ryn had fabricated to exchange with the cork on the orbs. She pushed the mini plunger with two fingers and felt the small barb of the hinged trident press into her thumb. The pain kept her head clear as the persistent ache of her eye threatened to take over. She’d never been punched in the face before, but if that’s what it took to see sense, then so be it.

  A scuffle echoed in the distance—might be a petty thug or might be the cutpurses she sought. Louisa tucked the device back into her belt, straightened her mask, and headed to Collingworth’s warehouse for the second time that week.

  Louisa did a cursory search around the site, several warehouses out from her target, confirming the absence of any constables. She didn’t see Morrie, either, but that didn’t mean anything. She’d missed him the last time, too, until he’d towered over her.

  Joe’s chants echoed in Louisa’s head as her body moved to a new rhythm, her earlier actions clumsy and naïve in comparison. Darkness loomed ahead between two buildings.

  Louisa halted just inside the deeper shadows. Her mind replayed the beefy hand squeezing her throat, lifting her up into the air. She swallowed, her breath rasping, hands shaking, until her whole body quivered.

  What are you doing? You’re not some trained soldier or constable. You’re just glorified kitchen help playing dress-up in your mother’s society clothes. You shouldn’t be here.

  Her shoulders drooped and she hugged herself—still Louisa couldn’t make herself move. I’m afraid.

  He’s manipulating the Queen, Morrie’s voice echoed in her head. We need proof …

  “We need proof,” she repeated. Cold anger pulsed through her veins.

  The shadow at the end of the lane shifted and dissipated as two figures, one short, one tall, slunk by. The smaller of the two pushed a garden barrow.

  Ryn was right. They were back to fix their mistake—to get the working engine in addition to the initial prototype.

  “Hey—” a man’s voice cut short, and a thud carried down the lane. Louisa could stop this. She might not be a trained soldier or a bobby, but this time she was prepared. She slid her thumb along the rim of the pouch holding Ryn’s modified orbs. The engineer had promised they wouldn’t ignite until she wanted them to.

  The shadows embraced Lou’s body, making her one of them as she drew along the warehouse wall toward the main through-road. Louisa glanced around the corner.

  A man lay … dead? Unconscious? Bug ignited the flame launcher and Scythe stood well back watching the street.

  Adrenaline electrified Louisa, making her skin tingle and the fine hairs on her arms dance. Maybe they’re alone tonight? But Louisa wasn’t convinced. She’d thought the same thing last time and it had cost her.

  Bug’s flame pulled back to a dull glow just as Scythe turned Louisa’s way. But the thief’s gaze threaded right through her without seeing. Louisa swallowed past the lump in her throat and watched the pair enter the building, leaving the barrow by the makeshift door.

  Night re-cloaked the front of the building even as embers glowed dark-red around the busted panel. Louisa crouched low and shifted over to the prone man. She held her hand on his chest and above his mouth.

  Thank God, he’s breathing. A sliver of metal near the hollow of his throat caught her eye. A whistle. Her heart leaped. A lifeline. Her fingers twitched as they hovered over the long cylinder.

  Take it.

  No, I can’t.

  Borrow it.

  Maybe …

  “Are you sure it’s the right one?” Bug droned with the hint of a whine from the other side of the opening.

  Louisa snapped the chain from around the hired guard’s neck, ducked back around the side of the building, and blew.

  A piercing shriek sliced through the air.

  Louisa spun and raced to the back of the building, careening around the corner. She blasted two short pips as she moved to catch the thieves on the opposite side of the building.

  A large, mobile wall blocked her way—a wall that hadn’t been there during her first sweep.

  “Dagnabit,” she cursed, blowing the whistle again.

  Brick’s massive arm shot toward Louisa. Her throat ghosted a dull ache. Her brain superimposed the memory of the last time he’d grabbed hold of her.

  Don’t get hit, Joe’s voice echoed in her mind.

  She dodged into a low spin-kick, bashing the side of his knee. He didn’t move or even moan. Both great plungers pistoned toward her head. Louisa leaned back, arching away from him. Vapor from her breath parted as his fist sliced through. She deked inside his radius, punched his throat, and twisted out again.

  He didn’t cough or gargle or cry … He growled.

  She blew the whistle again, holding it in her mouth this time—still no responding echo. Shadowed movement flitted past the opening behind Brick. Scythe’s unmistakable cackle whipped the air.

  I could backtrack around the building—she ducked under another meaty swipe—but the thieves would be gone by then. She darted forward to squeeze past the giant, who expanded his girth, nearly squashing her into the wall.

  Louisa blew the whistle again, slicing the still night beyond this bubble of action. She glowered at Brick. I have to stop them. This is going nowhere. Louisa stepped out of the muscleman’s range and slipped a trident–stoppered sphere–from her pouch. She flicked the safety catch, shook the orb, and pushed the plunger through the small pouch suspended in the neck. It resisted only a fraction of a second. The static electric charge sparked within the globe.

  Maybe three seconds, came Ryn’s reminder.

  Louisa inhaled a fast breath and whipped the sphere at Brick’s feet.

  A blast fractured the night.

  She staggered back, clenching the whistle between her teeth and blowing with all her might. Her heart tried to pound free of her chest. Louisa lurched to the side, her ears mostly bloc
ked by the crack of the sphere blast.

  Her legs threatened to collapse.

  Brick fell.

  She gathered every last ounce of nerve, grabbed the metal stopper cap from the ground, and jumped over him. Two figures disappeared around the far corner into an alley. Louisa suspected where they headed—the wharf. During her earlier sweep, she’d spotted a small raft-like barge tied to a public landing. Her ears rang from the explosion, but she knew what had to be done.

  Skidding around a corner faster than she should, she caught sight of the thieves.

  “Stop!” she yelled, her ears finally popping. An indistinct shadow blended back into the far hedgerow just as a series of whistles blasted from three directions.

  “You’re surrounded! Stop where you are,” she commanded. A reassuring heat filled her chest. I’ve got them.

  Scythe laughed. “I don’t think so, chickee. We’ll be long gone before those mutton shunters arrive. Got a tight schedule to keep.” She glanced around.

  “He’s not coming,” Louisa said.

  Scythe shrugged and turned to Bug. “Get it loaded already.”

  “Easier said than done. Are you going to help me?”

  “Figure it out,” she snapped and drew the small, curved, combat claws from the bun of her ponytail.

  Bollocks. Louisa still didn’t have anything to protect her arms and legs. The hose kept the chill off, but the fabric was no match for the edge of Scythe’s blades. Louisa wasn’t an idiot; the thief was a weapon with or without steel. A week’s worth of training was no match. Louisa pulled out the second of Ryn’s modified orbs and held it aloft.

  “Don’t make me use this,” she said, stepping closer to the cutpurse. Louisa’s face flushed, her breath heavy, nerves sizzling.

  Scythed laughed again.

  The constables’ whistles blasted close.

  Louisa had to act. She threw the orb between Scythe and Bug. The blast hit both their backs. Scythe landed spread-eagled on the cobbles just as a large crash of water smacked the stone landing.

  “Halt! Stop in the name of the law.”