Part 38 (1/2)

PENNER TOY AND GAMES.

10:15 p.m. Tuesday.

”WAIT!” POPPY TORE AFTER ALICE, WHO WAS RUNNING DOWN the street into the flames. ”Alice, wait!”

How do I get her to stop? Alice's beautiful red hair had escaped its pins and was streaming about her shoulders, her hat lost somewhere a block behind. Fortunately, her stays and bustle were more securely attached, slowing her down enough so that Poppy could catch up to her.

Poppy grabbed Alice's arm, feeling the slim bones beneath. ”It's not safe!”

That was stating the obvious. Threadneedle Street was in the area where the dirigibles had finally finished dropping their explosives only an hour or so ago, and parts of it were on fire. It had been next to impossible to even draw close to the area by hackney-they'd had to go on foot forever, Alice periodically breaking into a stumbling run.

Poppy was certain they should turn around. There was plenty of light from the fires, but it was dark out and the streetlights had all been smashed. And besides, Poppy was terrified. On top of everything else-the bombs, the kidnapping, and everything else that had gone on today-this street was right where Imogen had been kidnapped. Nothing good happened here, especially not now.

It was one thing to see the bombs from a distance, and quite another to see the destruction up close. Fires bloomed everywhere, sometimes so close that Poppy could feel the heat. Buildings stood gaping like skulls with their teeth smashed in and some were simply rubble. Soldiers and police were beginning to move in, but it was clear the attack had taken everyone utterly by surprise.

And that didn't begin to cover the human cost. A lot of people had worked on those streets, and a lot of them never would again. Poppy gripped Alice as hard as she could as they moved forward. She needed to feel someone solid and whole next to her. She tried not to look at the dead man sprawled across their path, but steered her sister-in-law around him. I can't help him now. All I can do is get Alice to Bucky's before she goes crazy.

And then Poppy's foot brushed against something. She glanced down to see blood and cloth and knew it wasn't attached to where it should have been. Oh, Lord. She took quick, shallow breaths, doing her best not to vomit, and ended up choking on the smoke instead.

The building across the street was on fire, so they were forced to hug the opposite side and hurry by as fast as they could. At least it distracted Poppy from the blood on the ground.

”Where is it?” Alice asked. ”The factory should be here, shouldn't it?”

Poppy looked around, trying to orient herself. She'd been there twice before, but nothing looked the same. ”It was on this side,” she said, waving her right hand.

Alice grabbed her wrist and hurried on. ”Is that it?” she cried pointing.

Poppy saw the red and green sign dangling by one end. ”Yes!”

Alice let her go and began running again, leaving Poppy behind once more. She caught up as Alice began pounding on the door, ignoring the knocker altogether. Bucky opened it to stare at them in alarm. ”Ladies! Come in at once. What on earth are you doing out at a time like this?”

”Ah, Mr. Penner,” Poppy said dryly, ”your manners intact despite the complete collapse of civilization.”

”And Miss Roth, always in the thick of things.” His brown eyes brimmed with questions.

”Where's Tobias?” Alice demanded.

”How did you know-” Bucky began, casting Poppy a hard look.

”Is he here?” Alice cut him off.

”Yes, I am.” Tobias came out of the back, Lord Bancroft a step behind him, and suddenly the tiny front room of the factory-already packed with toys on every surface-was too crowded. But at least her father was holding a lantern. The steady light made everything better.

Now Poppy could see that Bucky had recently converted his front offices to a miniature fairground complete with striped tents and dancing clockwork horses. Then Poppy noticed that the window must have shattered, because the miniature circus was covered with broken gla.s.s and flakes of gray soot. Her throat closed with a sudden stab of pain for the little circus animals. This wasn't their fight.

Tobias came forward, holding out his hands. He looked awful, like he'd had a terrible fever. ”Alice, Poppy, what are you doing here?”

Alice opened her mouth, looked at Poppy, then back at her husband. Her eyes were wild with panic. ”Father said he did all this!”

Lord Bancroft frowned, but for once it was sympathetic. ”I'm afraid it's true. He destroyed this district as an act of retaliation against Spicer Industries. It seems the Green Queen was responsible for the damage to the Palace of Westminster.”

Poppy's stomach roiled with anger and disbelief, and suddenly she was too hot. She leaned against the wall to stop her head from spinning.

Alice made a sound like someone had punched her in the stomach. ”Papa took Jeremy!”

Tobias drew in a quick breath, his already pale face draining to white. ”What?”

But Alice was crying too hard to answer. Tobias held her, murmuring shus.h.i.+ng noises that only seemed to make things worse. Poppy's father shot her a look of inquiry.

”Mr. Keating came to the house in Cavendish Square,” Poppy answered, her voice ragged. She could feel the tears crawling up her throat, but they were met by a hot anger that kept them at bay. ”He took Jeremy and Mrs. Polwarren as insurance.”

”Against what?” Bucky asked, sounding bewildered.

”To keep Tobias and Alice loyal because Tobias knows too much about his army. I think Keating's afraid because someone shot him.”

”Who?” demanded Lord Bancroft. ”How badly is he hurt?”

Not badly enough, Poppy thought. ”It's just his shoulder.”

Alice pushed away from her husband, her face twisted with pain as she looked into his eyes. ”The Blue King's men shot Father. But that's not the only reason he's taking action. Her Majesty's Laboratories burned down. You were gone and Evelina Cooper is missing.” She stopped speaking and swallowed hard. ”He thinks you helped her escape.”

By then, Tobias had gone very still. ”Me? He took Jeremy because of my actions?”

Alice took a painful-sounding breath, wrapping her arms around her ribs. ”Yes, he's taken Jeremy and his nurse because he believes you have betrayed him and you will again.”

”d.a.m.n him!” Tobias was swelling with anger, his pale face flus.h.i.+ng a hectic, mottled red. ”Where is Jeremy now?”

”I don't know, Tobias,” Alice cried. ”What are you going to do?”

SPEECHLESS, TOBIAS STARED at his wife, her soot-smudged features drawn into a mask of grief. She looked up at him, her blue eyes bright in the lantern's glow. ”How do we get our son back?” she asked, her voice sunk to barely more than a whisper.

She'd been one of those papa's girls right until Keating had sold her into a loveless marriage. The shock of this second betrayal had to be even more profound. She only needed one thing from her husband now-rea.s.surance that he would stand by her and make things right. Yet it was the one thing he couldn't give her-at least, not for long.

Tobias felt a strange numbness in his chest, the residue of grief. He'd exhausted all emotion in the last few days, and what was left was a primitive roughness. She'd come to him. After all he'd done-after all he'd done to her, in those early days of their marriage-she trusted him with the one thing that mattered most to a mother. It was a sacred trust he didn't deserve, and it went without saying that he would tear London apart stone by stone to get to his son.

Something shambled to life inside that was stronger than hatred or even outrage at his own doom. It had the feral will of a curse. ”I will get him back for you. Whatever it takes.”

”How?” She was looking into him-not at him-and speaking directly to the naked, raw will he'd somehow found.

He glanced around the room, seeing the faces of the others. Poppy was slumped against the wall, Bucky's hand on her shoulder, her face stricken. She shouldn't be seeing any of this. He turned to his father. ”I'm going to have this conversation in the back.”

Bancroft nodded, for once not arguing.

Tobias led Alice to a small room that had a threadbare sofa, table, and a litter of dirty cups. The smell of fresh wood and turpentine vied with the strong scent of cheap black tea. Alice sank onto the sofa, heedless of the sawdust coating every inch of it. ”What do we do?” she asked.

”We fight.”

She'd stopped crying, but her face was still smudged with tears. ”How?”