Clockwork Angels: The Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

steamliner thundered past. It came from mysterious lands he had never seen, rolling across the landscape toward Crown City . . . which he had also never seen.
    He stood transfixed, watching several cargo cars, then a dim passenger gondola filled with the silhouetted heads of sleeping passengers, then more cargo cars. He felt the breath of wind as it rolled past, smelled the steam and sparks and hot metal.
    He wished Lavinia were there beside him but knew she would never be. She’d never even think of doing this. His father had shown no interest in watching the steamliners either; they were just a part of daily life, like the sunrise and sunset, coming and going on schedule. All is for the best.
    Albion was vast, and Barrel Arbor was not. Would he ever see Crown City and the Clockwork Angels? Ever meet the Watchmaker in his tower? Ever sail the Western Sea? Soon he’d have to put away his mother’s books, never again look at the pictures. It seemed impossibly sad to him.
    As a battered old cargo car came toward him, he saw the shape of a man hanging out of the open door, the silhouette of a head peering out, a waving hand. Owen was startled as the man shouted over the noise of the steamliner, as if he knew Owen was there. “Hold out your hand, and I’ll pull you up.”
    He froze. He could get aboard the steamliner! He could ride the rails into Crown City. He could see the Angels with his own eyes, before it was too late.
    “I shouldn’t,” he yelled back.
    “But do you want to?” the man called, hurtling closer.
    The car was upon him, and Owen instinctively—impulsively— reached out to grab the man’s hand. The stranger was strong and yanked him off the ground. Owen felt his feet lift away from the siding of the steamliner track, and before he knew it, as quickly as a sudden sneeze, he was pulled up and into the cargo car.
    “You did it, young man,” said the stranger. “I’m proud of you.”
    Owen looked back with a dazed feeling, watching as his village rolled away in the distance. The stranger gripped his shoulder to keep him steady.
    He couldn’t believe he had actually done it, even though he didn’t yet grasp what he had done. Owen felt the brisk night breeze on his face, as he turned his gaze away from the receding view of Barrel Arbor to look forward, toward Crown City and the future.
    “On my way at last,” he said.

CHAPTER 4
     
    I was brought up to believe
     
    L istening to the humming thunder of the steel wheels on the tracks, Owen couldn’t believe he was riding the rails that had always beckoned him. He laughed out loud—just one quick laugh of astonishment at where he was and what he had done.
    Then he drew in a hitching breath, and an avalanche of realization hit him: what had he done? Owen’s legs went weak, and he slumped to the side of the cargo car. The prickle of excited sweat sent an icy chill along his skin as it evaporated in the night breeze. His heart hammered, not from the danger of climbing aboard a moving steamliner, but from the danger of doing something he knew was wrong.
    His father had always chided him that his head was so full of pointless dreams that he had no room left for brains. Yes, Owen had prayed just to get away, but that had been a fantasy, never meant to be made real, regardless of the strong grasp it had on his heart and his imagination. It was like those stories of mythical dragons and lost cities; he had never believed he would actually do this , never made plans that were anything more than wistful imaginings.
    And if he ever did go on an adventure, he had assumed Lavinia would be with him, that they would run off to exotic lands together. Instead, his companion was some stranger who had extended an arm out of the darkness, offering an invitation that Owen hadn’t thought quickly enough to refuse. . . .
    Panic set in. What did I just do?
    As the steamliner pulled along, he peered out at the passing shadows and cast a longing glance at the silhouetted