The Clockwork Dagger Read Online Free PDF Page B

from somewhere in the hallway. A sudden lurch knocked Octavia sideways, half sprawled in Mrs. Stout’s plush, purple lap. Chuckling, the older woman set Octavia upright and patted her hand. “That’s just the takeoff, dear. Normally there’s a bit more of a gap between the warning bell and that first lurch. Quite hasty of them. That does mean, however, if you wish to see the city we must get to the promenade straightaway.”
    â€œOh, yes! I would love to see the view.” Octavia bounded to her feet, catching herself against the wall for balance. She edged her suitcase into the tight confines of the closet and then hoisted her satchel onto her shoulder again. She didn’t place any faith in a room key.
    Mrs. Stout shook her head, grinning. A wisp of silver hair draped along her cheek. “Ah, to be young and on an adventure! Come along. I believe the library side will offer the best view.”

C HAPTER 3
    As they walked down the hallway, the craft made another small lurch. This time, Octavia was ready and braced herself against the wall. “Does the airship always bounce around so much?”
    â€œTakeoffs and landings have the most careening,” said Mrs. Stout. “Once we’re in the air, it tends to be quite smooth.”
    They passed the staircase and mechanical birds and through another door. Octavia paused in shock. After the cavelike labyrinth she had encountered thus far, she hadn’t expected the promenade to consist of sterile panels and round white tables. Glittering chandeliers swayed slightly and made no sound; the crystals and glassware had been spaced so they did not strike. The clink of goblets and muffled laughter completed the scene. A liveried steward rushed past them with a tray of wineglasses.
    A mechanical band sat in the middle of the room, motionless and quiet, burnished nickel skin a contrast to the glaring whiteness of the walls and tables. The four figures looked downright primitive in construction; it’s a wonder they hadn’t been scrapped in the war. The flutist had to be little more than skin, gears, and automated bellows.
    â€œI like to consider myself an accomplished traveler,” continued Mrs. Stout. “My husband often journeyed for business, and after the children were grown, I accompanied him. Airship travel isn’t quite what it was before the recent war, but this seems to be a decent craft.”
    Long rows of windows flanked the promenade and angled out at forty-five degrees. As she approached, Octavia could see the blur of buildings below and the fair blue of the sky. Tucked against the wall were several shelves of books and padded lounge chairs. A woman in a periwinkle shift sat in one of the chairs, a child on her lap. The babe couldn’t have been more than two, his face beet red and dark eyes too large. He had the drawn look of one accustomed to eating little, as did his mother. A rag doll of a mechanical man lay at the mother’s feet.
    â€œOur airship is already angled south toward Leffen,” Mrs. Stout said as she leaned forward against the glass, her bosom like a mighty cushion.
    A few windows were open. Cool, refreshing air gushed against Octavia’s face. Strands of hair tickled her cheeks and nose. No matter how she fussed with her headbands, she could never contain her crazed hair for long. The window felt chilled through her gloves as she leaned forward. The peaked roofs already looked smaller, like a confectioner’s village at Winter Solstice, the red tiles shining beneath the sun. The mooring towers were barely in sight at the lower right. The tethered airships reminded her of a beached whale she’d seen as a girl, bobbing and struggling to return where it belonged. Long puffs of steam trailed from smokestacks. A few sails on naval vessels marked the far edge of Vorana. Beyond that, the wide mouth of the river looked more white than blue in the midday light. The ocean was a sliver at