8
THE SIXWAYS, WYRMWOOD DISTRICT, DUNWALL
18th Day, Month of Earth, 1852
“Dear readers, you will be fascinated to know that earlier models of the Clockwork Soldier had human-like faces! Allow me to explain. As you know from Chapters 18 through 22, I had been testing the Clockwork Soldiers against a wide range of enemies. Early in this process a problem emerged. The would-be thieves and assailants were not intimidated by the delicate ceramic faces of the earlier prototypes. One criminal even believed he recognized an uncle and attempted conversation!
Undeterred, I set about redesigning the head mechanism, encasing it with a terrifying visage! I knew I had found the right design when my first test subject fell to their knees in fear.”
—THE ASTOUNDING CLOCKWORK SOLDIERS
A Precise History by the Creator Himself, Kirin Jindosh, Grand Serkonan Inventor (Chapter 23)
In almost perfect unison, the Sixways Gang pulled their guns out and opened fire at the clockwork soldier. Daudducked down and dived sideways, just in time, as the fusillade sparked against the chassis of the machine creature, sending bullets and shrapnel everywhere. The clockwork soldier shook under the attack, its casing remarkably resilient, but not indestructible. The amber-wood panels began to chip and there were blackened marks on the metal parts of the machine as bullet after bullet found its mark.
But the machine was too strong and the gang’s ammunition was limited. In just a few moments the gunfire began to quieten, then stopped entirely.
The machine shuddered but did not move. The big gear wheel continued to turn, and the bulbs on the chest flickered in sequence, like the machine was plotting a response to the attack.
Whatever it was, Daud knew the gangsters didn’t stand a chance. Ducking under the low-hanging eaves of a building, he looked over his shoulder, searching for Eat ’Em Up Jack. She had retreated back toward the Suicide Hall’s doors, and was staring at the monstrous machine.
The gang began to reorganize, casting aside their empty guns and switching to the blackjacks, perhaps hopeful the partially exposed, seemingly delicate mechanisms of the machine creature would succumb to a brute force attack.
The clockwork solider jerked into life, stepping toward the gang. Daud could only watch as the horror unfolded before him.
The first two died quickly, impaled through the stomach on a blade-arm each, their bodies then lifted clear of the cobbled street and tossed to one side without any apparent effort. With the machine’s beak-head turned away, two others moved in to attack what appeared to be an opening on the other side, but the first lost his arm nearly at the shoulder and the second had her foreheadcleaved as the machine, clearly able to see directly behind it, swept its other arms around to defend its flank.
The rest of the gang hesitated—Daud gave them that much credit, at least—as the machine pivoted at a perfect ninety degrees and walked toward them at a measured pace. Its thin, articulated legs neatly stepped over the blood-soaked bodies on the street.
Daud ran through his options. That the Sixways were dead was a given—the machine must have been brought by the Duke of Serkonos to help with the coup, an unstoppable force to wipe out any and all opposition. There would be more of the things, too—this one had just been sent in to deal with Wyrmwood Way.
None of it mattered. He needed to complete his mission.
To do that, he needed to live—he needed to get out, now.
But he also still needed to know where the Twin-bladed Knife was. And there was still someone here who might have the information he needed.
He looked up at Eat ’Em Up Jack. The young woman was back at the top of the stairs, calling to her gang, but Daud could see the fear and uncertainty that was now clouding her expression.
Daud gritted his teeth as he felt the power flow through him. He reached forward and pulled himself across the Void, reappearing at the top of the stairs beside her. Jack took a single step back in surprise, then growled and reached into the top pocket of her tunic. From the concealed sheath, she drew a knife with a blade that was long and square, more like a spike. She flipped the stiletto around in her grip, placing her thumb on the pommel, ready to fight.
Daud held out his hand. “I can get us out of here.”
She just stared at his hand and frowned, her brow slick with a cold sweat.
Out in the Sixways, just twenty yards away, the clockwork soldier continued its rampage, dismembering anyone within range of its killing arms. The heavy cobblestones of the intersection were running thick with blood, but the gang was clearly not about to give up. Even from this distance, Daud could see the fire in their eyes. It was the same kind of intensity, the same kind of focus he’d seen in the Whalers, back in the day. The Sixways were strong, skilled fighters, a family who had each other’s backs—loyal to the very last.
Loyal to their leader, Eat ’Em Up Jack, they were protecting her. But it wasn’t enough. The machine was making quick work of the gang, and it was getting steadily closer.
Daud turned to Jack. He reached out for her, but she pulled away.
“We’re getting out of here, now!”
She looked at him and snarled. “No! I’m Eat ’Em Up Jack. I’m the leader of the Sixways Gang. I stay with them and I die with them.”
Daud turned back to the fight. It was getting closer—and it was weakening, but not enough.
Could he finish the job? Save the gang—save Jack—and still get the information he needed? It was a mercenary thought, but Daud had no time for anything else.
It was do, or die.
He just needed a weapon.
Daud turned, his gloved hand snatching at Jack’s. She swore and swung with the stiletto, but Daud was faster. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, forcing her to loosen her grip. Then he slid his hand up and tore
