thing. Perhaps you have your father’s murderous tendencies.”
Heat rushed up from Finley’s feet to her face, but she didn’t look away. She would not be ashamed of herself. “You talk a lot.”
Garibaldi smiled. “Quite right. A flaw, to be sure. I will be quiet now, and let my children talk for me.” He threw a large switch on the wall. “Wake up, my dearests!”
The floor beneath her feet seemed to hum and vibrate as clockwork gears clicked into place beneath the machines. Suddenly every automaton raised its head, the room filled with a dull roar as each and every one of them was brought to life—even Victoria. He had put start mechanisms in the bottom of them, making it difficult to shut them down.
Finley moved first, followed by the cat and then Sam. She did exactly as Emily had told her to do; the first machine she grabbed had a headlike attachment lit from within. She tore that from the metal shoulders and threw it to the floor where Sam stomped it with his heavy boot, crushing it like a vegetable tin. Then, she reached into the chest cavity, grabbed hold of as many wires and guts as she could and pulled. The light in the thing’s chest sputtered and died as the machine fell to the floor.
One down. Twenty-five to go. Around her she watched as Sam ripped some of the lesser automatons apart with his bare hands. Griffin took on some of the smaller ones, as well, and helped Emily shut down others with her abilities as Jasper used the augmented guns Emily made him to cripple the machines. Finley and Sam double- teamed the larger ones.
Griffin kept going. Finley’s gaze skipped to the back of the space, where she saw Garibaldi throwing things into a valise. He was going to try to escape while the rest of them were fighting. A noise to her left caught her eye and she spied the Victoria automaton also moving toward Garibaldi, presumably to follow him. Another mech moved closer, as well—man-size and intent on Griffin.
Garibaldi saw Griffin coming and pulled a pistol from his coat, aiming it at Griff. “One more step and you’ll be with your parents for eternity—your father, I mean.”
Griffin hesitated, but only for a moment. It seemed as though his eyes were changing—like they were lit from within. He was beautiful.
Out of the corner of her eye, Finley saw an opportunity and took it. She ran and jumped, grabbing hold of a chain that hung from the ceiling, she swung herself at Garibaldi, managing to land a solid kick to his shoulder as she sailed by. Then, she whipped herself around and landed on the shoulders of a large metal man. As she had with the others, she seized the thing by the skull, twisted and pulled. The head came off like the lid of a jar. She tossed it to the floor and then somersaulted off the wide metal shoulders. She landed, both feet on the automaton head, feeling it crumple beneath her boots. Then she pivoted and shoved her hand into the panel on the chest, grasping and ripping at wires. The machine fell.
They were making short work of The Machinist’s army. Only a handful of automatons left. Finley was nigh- on victorious. And then a hail of bullets cut the air just above her head. She hit the floor with enough force the air rushed from her lungs. She looked up to see two plump arms, the hands of which had flipped back on macabre hinges to reveal smoking gun barrels within.
Queen Victoria had joined the fight.
Jasper rolled to his back not far from her. With one hand, he used his disruptor pistol to stun one of the last automatons long enough so Emily could shut it down. His other hand moved so fast Finley wasn’t sure if he switched pistols or not, but two shots rang out. Victoria’s arms jerked. When the smoke cleared, Jasper held a regular pistol in his hand—and Victoria’s arm-rifles were still, though scorched around the wrists. He’d destroyed both by shooting into the barrels.
Finley would have looked at him in sufficient awe if her attention was not stolen by Garibaldi. The Machinist cried out in rage at the damage to his precious machine. Victoria’s hands flipped back into place, now with black marks up the arms, and moved closer to her master. She even moved like an elderly but regal person; slowly, but with grace. And silent. Not a whir or click to be heard as she walked.
Finley launched herself then, coming up into a crouch and then jumping straight at the Victoria machine. She landed on its shoulders just in time to see Sam take down the last of the other machines. She seized the queen’s head as the useless gun arms came up and began beating at her. It hurt—every blow like being struck with a sack full of pennies—but she did not let go. She grunted, squeezing and turning with all her strength. Finally, she felt the neck give way, heard the metal inside grinding and snapping. She pulled and the head came off in her hands.
She dropped it to the floor with a cry. It looked too real—and Garibaldi had added veins to the flesh “suit” the automaton wore. Finley had blood on her hands. For a second, she thought she had actually killed a person.
She’d froze only for a second, but it was all the automaton needed. The headless Victoria whirled, striking her across the back and the ribs with enough force to send her into the wall hard and she crashed to the floor, but she was on her feet again as soon as she caught her breath.
When she managed to get to her feet, she saw Jasper fire the disruptor pistol at the headless queen as she ran toward him, spritzing blood from the stump of her neck. The blast jerked the automaton backward, but didn’t stop her. Jasper slapped his hand against the side of the gun.
The blast should have stopped the machine, if only for a moment. But the pistol’s malfunction had turned the metal’s attention to Jasper and now he was defenseless.
Emily ran in front of him, reaching the machine as Jasper tossed the useless weapon aside and pulled another. She slapped both of her palms against the headless queen’s chest, sweat running down her brow.
The automaton twitched and jerked. Suddenly, there was a flash—like an explosion—that sent Emily sailing backward. Finley moved quick and managed to catch her, both of them falling to the floor.
They were surrounded by broken automatons—smoking and steaming in ruin, scattering the floor like bizarre metal corpses. Blood from “Victoria” sprinkled them, casting a gruesome pall over the wreckage.
Beside her Emily lay as still as death.
Chapter 22
Garibaldi spat a mouthful of blood on the dirty floor near where Griffin lay. “Just admit defeat, boy.”
Slowly, painfully, Griffin rose to his knees. “No.” He glanced toward his friends and saw them in the midst of destroying the Victoria automaton. He saw Emily and Finley hit the floor and prayed they were both all right. “It’s over, Garibaldi.”
The Italian glanced where Griffin had and saw what had become of his invention. His face contorted into a mask of rage and he lashed out, landing a savage kick to Griffin’s chest. “You’ve ruined everything!”
The guard protected Griffin from the worst of the blow, but it still knocked the breath out of him. He fell to his side on the floor, gasping. He didn’t have time to recover before he was grasped by the lapels of his coat, pulled to his feet by the infuriated madman.
“I’m going to rip your heart out,” Garibaldi seethed, spit flying as he finally went completely mad. His obsession with proving the usefulness of Organites finally broke his mind as he saw all his work in ruins. “I’m going to send you to your mommy and daddy in
It was the thought of his parents that cleared Griffin’s mind. He thought of them and how much he’d loved them, how much he wanted to make them proud. It was almost as though he could see them, standing there behind Garibaldi.
Wait. They were there. He really could see them.
Griffin glanced around. The Aether. He was accessing the Aether without consciously reaching for it. It was all around him, like beautiful shimmering light. And there, attached to his parents by an ugly, pulsing black cord of energy, was Leonardo Garibaldi. He couldn’t stand that taint touching his parents. The cord extended to him as well, thicker and blacker. There was no goodness in Garibaldi anymore—no lightness or purity of soul. He had been corrupted by his own righteousness and was something dark and nasty now—so much so he glowed with it.
“What are you staring at?” Garibaldi demanded, shaking him. He punched him again.
