The Dragon Men

“What is it?” He grew tense.

“Let’s discuss it up there.”

They carried the weapons and battery packs up top. Click followed. On the way, Gavin said to Alice, “Why haven’t you put the corks back on?”

“I don’t like them.” She flexed her left hand, and the iron spider creaked softly. “Actually, I’m planning to ‘accidentally’ scratch a few people, no matter what Lady Orchid might think. It would be foolish not to.”

“And you’re anything but foolish.”

“Let’s see. I’m sneaking into a heavily fortified palace to attack the most powerful despot in the world and cut his hand off on the small chance that his successor will find a way to heal an incurable disease. No, not at all foolish.”

“Well, when you stack it all up like that. .” The bird poke on his neck itched again, and he unsuccessfully tried to juggle battery packs to get to it. “Besides, I have total faith in your ability to destroy empires. If this works, you should see if Queen Victoria will hire you to handle Tsar Alexander in Russia. Make a fortune.”

Alice made an unladylike noise.

Up top, things were much as Gavin remembered them-dim light from a setting sun filtered in through the high stable walls, and the Lady sat motionless on the floor. Lanterns provided a bit more light. It was like living in a hot, stuffy cave. Phipps and Li were drinking tea and talking in low voices. At first Gavin thought they were discussing strategy, but then Phipps actually gave a low laugh and covered her mouth with her hand in a feminine gesture Gavin had never in his life imagined she would make. They both caught sight of Gavin and Alice, and cut themselves off, looking a little guilty. Alice cut Gavin a sidelong look.

“Gavin’s out of his fugue, so it’s safe to talk to him,” she announced. “He did a wonderful job on the weapons.”

“Let’s see them,” Phipps said. “Hing-Lieutenant Li-says things in Peking are getting worse and worse.”

“What things?” Gavin set the battery packs on the deck next to the Impossible Cube and the Ebony Chamber while Alice set the pistols and the sword on the table. “Alice said something was-”

“They’re looking for us, darling,” Alice interrupted.

“Who?”

“The Dragon Men.”

Gavin looked at her, puzzled. “Well, we knew that.”

“No, I mean they’re looking for us. In the city. They know we’re here somewhere, and they’re out with their automatons and mechanicals. They’re climbing over walls and knocking down doors. A section of the city caught fire after one of their dragons breathed fire on someone, and they still haven’t managed to put it out.”

“Then we need to move on Su Shun,” Gavin said instantly. “Tonight.” He picked up his wings, shrugged into the harness, and set about buckling and buttoning. “The sun’s almost set. Can your men be ready to leave when it’s fully dark, Lieutenant Li?”

“They are ready on a moment’s notice, Lord Ennock,” Li replied.

“What are you doing?” Phipps asked.

“I’m not going into the Forbidden City without these.” Gavin finished the final buckle and shrugged his shoulders for a test furl. The wings opened with a soft metallic clink. It felt good to wear them again, as though he had reattached a missing leg. The battery was fully charged, too, thanks to the Lady’s generator. “We might need a scout or an escape route. And they’re handy in other ways.”

He yanked on a pulley, and his left wing snapped outward. It caught a deck chair and sent it spinning. Click jumped back with a sharp hiss.

“Prince Kung and the lady will be here soon,” Li said. “And then-”

From high up came a crash of splintering wood. Gavin tensed. Alice snatched up the wire sword, though it wasn’t connected to its battery pack. Phipps and Li leaped to their feet, Phipps with a glass cutlass and Li with a pistol.

Bits of wood showered from the rafters, and a brass nightingale flashed downward. Gavin snapped out a hand and caught it without thinking, and only after his fist closed around the tiny automaton did it occur to him that the bird might be dangerous. Sawdust clung to the nightingale’s head where it had smashed through the wooden wall. The tip of its beak was stained red.

“Good catch,” Phipps breathed. “Is it a spy?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin told her. “I’ll have to take it apart and see what-”

I see the moon, the moon sees me.

It turns all the forest soft and silvery.

The moon picked you from all the rest,

For I loved you best.

Gavin stared. His hand froze around the little bird. The voice that emerged from its red-stained beak was like Gavin’s, but not quite. It was deeper, with a different tone. And it sang the song in A-flat, which Gavin had never done in his life.

I have a ship, my ship must flee,

Sailing o’er the clouds and on the silver sea.

The moon picked you from all the rest,

For I loved you best.

The voice touched his soul with a ghostly hand, warm and cool at the same time. It called up chilly summer nights and soft music bouncing off hard cobbles. His hand trembled with the effort not to crush the bird in his plague-strong hand.

“How does it know that song?” Alice demanded beside him. “Gavin, what’s going on?”

“I–I. .” Gavin’s mouth was filled with sandpaper and joy and fear. The clockwork plague flared back to life. “I have to go. I have to go right now.”

“What?” Phipps lowered the cutlass. “Gavin, you can’t just-”

But Gavin was already moving. He tossed the little bird into the air and, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, snatched up the Impossible Cube and ran toward the gangplank. The nightingale flew ahead of him. The plague pulled him along, wiping out rational judgment. His only thought was to follow the fascinating nightingale back to its source. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

“Gavin!” A honey-haired woman moved to block his way. “You can’t just leave!”

His wings glowed. He vaulted over her head and glided to one of the stable doors. Ignoring the shouts behind him, he yanked it open onto an evening courtyard. The two surprised soldiers standing guard outside didn’t have time to react as the nightingale shot through the opening and Gavin followed. He dashed over the stones. Power coruscated over his wings. They chimed softly and propelled him into the darkening sky. The woman’s cries thinned and vanished beneath him, and he was only vaguely aware of her distress. He had to follow the bird.

Peking stretched out below him in a blocky series of red and brown tile roofs with upturned corners. A few scattered torches and lanterns were lit, and he smelled smoke. In the distance, flames flickered hungrily around some of the buildings. The streets below him were mostly empty, and though it was growing dark, Gavin didn’t quite understand why this was, until he saw the elephant. And the tiger. And the dragon. They and other automatons were stomping through the city, each accompanied by a Dragon Man and soldiers. Even as Gavin watched from above, an elephant smashed through a wooden gateway. Four soldiers and the Dragon Man boiled into the courtyard beyond it. Gavin couldn’t hear the shouts and screams of the inhabitants, but he knew they were there, nonetheless. The salamander circling his ear grew chilly in the evening air. None of the people below looked up. He took all this in with a glance, however, and didn’t pause to consider any of it. The brass nightingale was flying, and he had to follow.

The little bird sped up, but Gavin kept pace with easy sweeps of his wings. Even with the Impossible Cube, flying was as easy as thought. They passed over the borders of the city, and the houses faded into farmland. The sun set fully, but a full moon rose, turning the nightingale’s brass body to liquid gold and changing the red stain on its beak to black. Still Gavin flew, trailing blue power behind him. They were going northwest. Occasionally it