The Havoc Machine Read Online Free PDF Page A

clockworkers seemed to do something to the disease that kept it from spreading beyond them. This was, no doubt, small comfort to the flood victims of Kiev and to the Kalakos Circus.
    Thad arrived at his little wagon, parked near the train in the residential area of the circus. He unlocked it and hopped inside, where he lit a candle. The thin light revealed a close, efficient space. At the front of the wagon stood a low wardrobe with a double-wide bunk atop it. Clever fold-down shelves on the walls could create small tables, stools, or even beds at a moment’s notice, andhigh, brimmed shelves held a few books and other knickknacks. A knife grinder’s wheel took up the front corner opposite a tiny stove. And from the walls hung a variety of damaged machines.
    Each machine had a different design, but all of them were clearly wrecked beyond repair. There were whirligigs with bent blades and spiders missing their legs, energy pistols with broken barrels, and automaton heads split in half, showing gears like metal brain matter. More than two dozen machines covered the wall, in fact. The shadows from the candle played across them, and their dead eyes seemed to focus on Thad. But none of them could actually move—a hard hammer and a satisfying set of nails had seen to that. As Thad set down the candlestick, Dante jumped from his shoulder and landed on a perch among them.
    “Sharpe is sharp,” he said.
    Thad opened the wardrobe. One half contained dull clothes and bright costumes. The other half clanked with weapons—short swords, silvery knives, heavy axes, thin stilettos, a spiked mace. And pistols. Six of those, including one of the new Smith & Wesson revolvers that accepted cartridge rounds. The rounds were much more accurate but also much more expensive, so Thad rarely used them. He hesitated, then touched the torn money pouch in his pocket. With a grim nod, he holstered the Smith & Wesson revolver at his belt. His long leather jacket fell open, revealing another small armory of knives and other blades. He checked to make sure they were all in place, put Dante back on his shoulder, and went back outside, carefully locking the little wagon behind him.
    From a storage box attached to the wagon’s outside wall, he took a bridle and saddle while Dante shifted uneasily. Thad glanced at the moon and realized he’d have to hurry if he wanted to make it to the village and the clockworker’s castle in time to go in tonight. For a moment, he considered waiting a day or two. It might be better to scout the area out, find out more about Mr. Havoc and his defenses.
    “Drink up, drink up,” Dante squawked.
    “Hm,” Thad said, absently touching Dante’s head. Dante had a point, however accidentally. The men drinking in the tavern had recognized Thad, known what his business was. It wouldn’t take long for word to filter back to Mr. Havoc that Thad was in town. Clockworkers were insane but they were also frighteningly intelligent, and it wouldn’t be much of a strain for for Mr. Havoc to assume that Thad was coming for him and to strengthen his defenses. Hell, he might even attack Thad—or the circus—as a defensive measure. No, Thad would have to take care of Mr. Havoc tonight. Now.
    Thad retrieved his horse from the large, plain tent that housed the rest of the horses, and moments later he was on the road. For a bad moment, clouds rolled across the moon, blocking Thad’s light, but a chilly autumn breeze chased them off again, leaving the path ahead of him as clear as a snake made of mercury. He urged the horse into a canter with Dante clinging to the pommel.
    At a spot where stubbly fields met at a crossroad, Thad saw a horse and rider. His hand went to his revolver, but the figures resolved themselves into Sofiya atop the brass horse, motionless and gleaming beneath the stars. Her scarlet cloak looked like dried blood.
    “What took so long?” she demanded. “I have been waiting forever.”
    Anger stabbed at Thad as he