Read Online The Clockwork Dagger by Beth Cato - Free Book Online

“You think they’ll believe that?”
    â€œThat you are innocent, or lost?” The white of his teeth shone in the thin light.
    â€œDid I come across as either earlier?”
    â€œIndeed. And I think you can play the part again.”
    She gasped in mock indignation. “Play the part! Which one? Mr. Garret, are you insinuating that I’m not innocent? Must I remind you that I’m carrying capsicum, and not afraid to use it?”
    The darkness hid it well, but she was certain he blushed deeply. “I certainly do not wish to get on your bad side, Miss Leander.”
    â€œYou’re a wise man.” And a collection of other positive adjectives. “I . . . I do believe you said something about getting a lock for his cage?”
    He nodded. “Yes, of course. My berthing is close by. I will return as soon as I can.” He slipped away, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.
    Alone in the darkness, Octavia backed up until her heels found the curved steel of the wall. “Oh, goodness. What am I doing, Leaf?” she whispered. “I only said farewell to Miss Percival this morning, and that was hard enough. She didn’t even hug me good-bye. She’s always been rather stoic, but not with me, not until these past few months.” The lingering hurt stung her eyes. “And now I meet this Mr. Garret. I’m only going to know him for a few days, and then I’ll never see him again. Rather like you, I suppose.”
    The gremlin chirped in return.
    â€œYou silly thing. My heart must be made of silver, the way you’ve stolen it.” She lowered her satchel to the floor as she stared at the door.
    Octavia waited. And waited. She angled her watch toward the light as the minutes passed.
    â€œIt’s as though Mr. Garret’s been swallowed up by a geologica sinkhole. I can’t leave you here, Leaf, not without a good lock on your cage. I hope Mrs. Stout has gone on to sleep and isn’t fretting.”
    She shuffled her feet and kicked something solid. Crouching down, she found a hard ninety-degree angle of polished wood. A frame? Curious, she lifted it into the light, and found herself staring Queen Evandia in the eye. Octavia snorted.
    â€œHow appropriate, to find you skulking about in a place like this.” She blew a raspberry at the Queen’s face.
    It was an older portrait, showing Evandia as young and haughty. Prim, painted lips, eyes lined by kohl and crimson. Streaks of red livened the black updo of her hair—that trendy dye alone showed the portrait’s age. The canvas reeked of urine. Deep slash marks almost bisected the image, chin downward dangling like degloved skin. The work of soldiers, perhaps. Angry, starving soldiers, unpaid in months like Miss Percival. Or grieving family. Or hungry civilians, or the jobless, the sick . . . Well, that narrowed down the possible culprits to the majority of Caskentia.
    It was funny, in a terrible way. Queen Evandia was so rarely seen in public due to the threat of the Waste. Now her own people would riot and lynch her on sight. Maybe that’s one reason why the war dragged on—Caskentia had someone to fight other than itself. A dozen corrupt, bickering municipalities; the city of Mercia with its half million; the palace, a world unto itself. One could argue that Evandia didn’t really rule at all. She was simply . . . there. Governing the palace, while the rest of the kingdom succumbed to verdigris and rot.
    â€œI’m sorry you’ll have to be left here in such poor company,” Octavia said to Leaf. The gremlin emitted a soft screech. “Yes, my sentiments exactly.”
    The cargo access door opened again with a burst of light. She cowered behind the boxes, willing Leaf to silence with a hand on his cage.
    â€œMiss Leander?” Mr. Garret’s voice was low.
    She emerged from her hiding place, her eyes still dazzled by the brightness.