Big Teeth: A Steampunk Fairy Tale (The Clockwork Republic Series) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Author's Note

  About the Author

  Also By Katina French

  Big Teeth

  Katina French

  Big Teeth

  Electronic Edition

  Copyright © 2014 Katina French

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold, reproduced or transmitted by any means in any form or given away to other people without specific permission from the author and/or publisher. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to your ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors and artists.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  http://www.3fatespress.com/

  ISBN 978-1-940938-24-0

  First Edition 2014

  Electronic Edition 2014

  Chapter One

  Lulabelle crouched next to a rick of firewood, rubbing her hands for warmth beneath a scarlet wool cloak. A cold Kentucky wind swept past the open maw of the nearby Pineville coal mine. The ends of her delicate fingers were growing numb, but she waited a bit longer. Tonight's ill-advised burglary attempt didn't need further complications. Like as not, the witch had protected her property with some kind of alchemical enchantment.

  A fool's errand, no doubt about it. If anybody but Pa'd asked I woulda just said flat out "No."

  Like everyone else in the Tennessee Caravan, Lu couldn't refuse her Pa. He was the Robber Baron, after all. If his own daughter started disobeying orders, there'd be mayhem and dissension in the ranks. Or more than they already had in a migrating camp of hillbilly vagabonds, minstrels and ne'er-do-wells. Somebody was always prowling around for a sign of weakness, looking for a chance to seize command.

  I got enough problems watchin Pa's back without gettin myself turned into a toad. Course, s'posedly alchemy can't do any such thing. It's science, not magic, common folk just don't understand it.

  Lu snorted at that thought, creating a puff of fog. Most common folk didn't understand the workings inside a pin tumbler lock. Lu didn't have a high estimation of the common folk. Still, all the books she'd read agreed. Even the most powerful alchemist couldn't transform a person into a toad. It went against the Laws of Science.

  Then again, Lu never had a great deal of respect for the law. Books and laws were all fine and dandy. They didn't do much to still the churning in her gut. No book ever written had reckoned on the woman whose property she planned to purloin.

  Last I heard, the Snow Queen didn't pay no more heed to the law than us.

  Evelyn Derringer, who the papers called the Snow Queen, might really be the world's most powerful alchemist. Cold as a gravedigger's toes, she had more money than most true queens back in Europe. If anyone had even less regard for the law than the Caravan, it was her. If her disregard extended to the Laws of Science, Lu shuddered to think just how unscientifically, illegally awful her formulaes might be.

  Lu gulped.

  I wonder what it might feel like to be a toad?

  As she scanned the empty lawn one last time, a tiny movement in the woodpile caught her eye. A field mouse peeped out, black eyes regarding her from a crevice between two rough logs. The creature's nose twitched, then it melted back into the darkness.

  Lu wished she could run back home, too. But like the mouse, she was stuck sneaking around in the dark, searching for something her family needed.

  She hadn't come all the way from the Republic of Tennessee to steal the Snow Queen's gold. There were plenty of safer ways to come by money or valuables to sell. Even if this house held enough treasure to set a clever thief up for life, it wasn't worth the risk. A clever thief would never try to rob the Snow Queen.

  Not thinkin she'd live long enough to enjoy it, anyway. A tight frown pulled down the corners of her mouth at that thought. You couldn't figger out another way, Pa? Any other way?

  The Queen had been toying with the Caravan, and Pa in particular, for years. The icy heiress found use for their unique skills and resources a few times. She'd paid well, but the Caravan wasn't supposed to be for hire. They were free men and women, under nobody's rule except the Robber Baron, and his authority was earned by right and subject to the will of his people. Letting the Queen treat them like hired mercenaries was a threat to Pa's standing. Refusing her would be a threat to his life. Maybe all their lives.

  People who defied the Snow Queen tended to wind up dead. The lucky ones disappeared whole and reappeared with mechanical replacement parts. One poor soul down in Memphis had a glowing glass eye. It wasn't as terrifying as the dead, empty look in the other one.

  While things were still cordial between them, that could change at any time. Pa hadn't remained head of a gang feared across the republics this long without a healthy dose of mistrust and paranoia. It didn't take alchemy to transform today's partner-in-crime into tomorrow's knife-in-the-back. Before that happened, he needed to make a pre-emptive strike. He'd sent Lu to steal something to level the playing field.

  Rumors about the Snow Queen's unsavory secrets were thick on the ground, but proof was a different matter. Finding proof would protect Pa from Evelyn, whenever she decided to turn on him. Pulling a job on her would also quiet the whispers around the Caravan, hinting it was fear, not profit, which motivated him to take those earlier jobs.

  Lu hadn't come to the Republic of Kentucky looking for gold.

  She came here looking for dirt.

  Chapter Two

  Lu surveyed the whitewashed two-story brick house. The fanciful gingerbread trim dripping from the wide front porch met with her approval. The painted wooden scroll work reminded her of the wagons back home. Otherwise, the house was too stodgy and much too big for her taste. Living in a house with no wheels made it too easy to get tied down.

  The house, the coalmine, and everything else in Pineville belonged to the Snow Queen. Although Evelyn owned the house, only the mine manager Grigsby resided there. She only used the house as a base of operations whenever she bothered to visit, which wasn't often.

  Pa had planned this job based on three assumptions. First, Evelyn was hardly ever in town. Second, the Pineville house was the easiest place to start their search. Third, she might actually think the remote location was the best place to hide her secrets.

  Lu hadn't even made it all the way into town before Pa's first assumption proved false. A titanic airship hung in the air, tethered to a watchtower at the edge of town. The massive craft, four decks deep, nearly eclipsed the autumn sun.

  Only Evelyn Derringer could afford a ship that size. Lu hoped every important paper the Snow Queen owned wasn't locked up inside the thing. Aside from being heavily armed, Lu had no idea how she'd even reach it. Last she checked, she was fresh out of magic beans or flying carpets, and her paint pony Bernadette lacked Pegasus' wings.

  I'll soon find out, one way or the other.

  On one hand, Pa could hardly fault her for failure if everything had been moved out of reach. On the other hand, the only thing worse than getting killed stealing somet
hing was getting killed trying to steal something that wasn't even there in the first place.

  Either way, the key to staying alive was not getting caught.

  She'd wasted enough time stalling. It wasn't going to get any less risky. The guards hadn't wandered by or made a peep in over an hour. No lights had come on and no one had moved past the windows all evening. Airship or no airship, the only way to discover if the information she needed was in the house was to sneak in and look.

  Lu slipped through the shadows, the dark red hood pulled over her copper curls. A black hood might have been a tiny bit harder to see, but it was best not to wear clothing that screamed "sneak thief." The red hood was the same one she wore when taking goods to trade. Caravan folk weren't well-liked by city folk or frontier settlers. Best not to provoke suspicion, even suspicions which were absolutely correct.

  Aside from being handy for thievery, Caravan dress was wondrous practical, even for girls. Her dark blue blouse tucked under a brown velveteen corset meant no loose shirt tails fluttered out to catch on something. Tan breeches tucked into soft leather boots meant she could move in ease and silence, unlike city girls in their ridiculous bustles and high heels. Nothing could tame her wild mop of hair, but the cloak and a patterned scarf beneath it kept it contained. If neither cloak nor stealth could keep her hidden, the dagger and revolver on her low-slung belt would keep her safe. A small bag hanging from the belt held her lockpicks and other implements.

  She paused a moment before placing a foot on the kitchen stoop.

  No tingle at the nape of her neck. Just the cold wind rubbing her face raw.

  She set her foot down. A sigh of relief whooshed out her lips. No shimmer of a broken alchemical seal flashed in the darkness. No blaring steam whistle triggered by a hidden pressure plate scalded her ears.

  This job was already easier than she'd expected. She just had to take things slowly and trust in her special gift.

  Aside from mistrust for anyone who wasn't a blood relation, Pa had another reason for sending Lu. She had a sixth sense for finding hidden things. Most Caravan young'uns could crack a safe right after they could break out of the cradle. Lu could find the safe even if it was tucked behind a secret door. She could also sense a trap with uncanny accuracy.

  She slipped two picks out from her belt, and set to work on the kitchen door. It only took a moment before the lock clicked open. A quick look over her shoulder confirmed the guards were still elsewhere, or asleep. Another reason to leave no trace she'd ever been there. She hated to think what would happen to them if the Snow Queen discovered they'd let a thief get past them. She pulled the door open just enough to slip inside.

  The kitchen was empty and quiet. It smelled of stale bread and rotten meat. Didn't Grigsby have a cook or a housekeeper?

  She pulled a small rubber tube with a glass stopper from her belt. Adding a powder from another tube, she replaced the stopper and shook the tube hard. A pale, greenish yellow glow poured out of the glass end. Her eyes gradually adjusted to the light. The risk of stumbling over something and making a loud noise was greater than the chances of somebody seeing the dim glow.

  The kitchen held nothing of interest. She hadn't really expected to find a wealthy woman's deepest, darkest secrets tucked in the pie safe under a strawberry rhubarb pie anyway. Besides, it was October. If there was a pie, it'd be pumpkin.

  Next time, I need to eat before breakin into someone's kitchen.

  She slipped out the door into a hallway which ran the length of the house. As she passed a door halfway down, a light tingle warmed the nape of her neck. She stopped and listened, but no sound came from within the room. No light flickered under the door.

  The warmth whispered she was on the right track. A cold tingle was a warning. Too bad the switch wasn't always fast enough to avoid trouble. She'd found that out trying to swipe a pound of bacon from Cookie's wagon as a child.

  The porcelain knob slipped in a noiseless circle. Thank goodness for rich folks oiling every hinge and squeak! Made a thief's life a darn sight easier. A light push proved the door was locked, but half a minute with her picks solved that problem.

  She held her breath and pushed the door open. Like the kitchen door, there was no sign of an alarm, no iridescent shimmer of an alchemical seal broken, and no guard with shiny six-shooters running her way.

  So far, so good.

  Lu found herself in the parlor that served as the manager's office. Grigsby's polished maple desk was littered with papers, the crushed stubs of cigars, an inkwell and at least one half-drunk glass of bourbon whiskey. It reeked of sweat and coal dust. As filthy as Grigsby had looked when she spotted him through her spyglass earlier this afternoon, it wasn't half bad.

  Must've cleaned up with the boss lady in town.

  A sofa and a few small tables also occupied the room. In the corner, a squat steel safe rested bold as brass in the open.

  That was one mark. An oil painting on the opposite wall was nudged just enough out of plumb to show it had been moved recently: the second mark. Any decent thief would have spotted those right off. Lu was a more than decent thief.

  It took her next to no time to open the safe. Nothing in it seemed the least bit useful. A small bag of coins which a cold tickle on her neck said was alchemically marked. She avoided touching it. Rolled up next to it was a set of plans for some peculiar engine. Whatever it was, it would fill a room the size of Grigsby's parlor. Other than the sheer size of the machine, there was nothing obviously ominous about the plans. The drawings were marked out and scribbled over in so many places, she doubted anyone could actually use them anyway.

  Whatever this thing is, it's mos' likely either already built or years away. That's no use. She shut the safe and moved on to the painting.

  It was a portrait of Evelyn's dearly departed father, Robert Alva Derringer, a robber baron of a different sort. His bushy gray brows furrowed as if he disapproved of Lulabelle. She couldn't blame him, seeing as how she was here to steal from his estate. Half the continent suspected Evelyn of murdering her daddy to inherit his fortune.

  Maybe ya shoulda given her that scary look a bit more often, Bob.

  Perhaps Lu was convinced, maybe even hoped, she'd come up empty after seeing the airship. Telling Pa she'd done her best would be healthier than coming home the Snow Queen's enemy.

  It's possible she rushed, owing to her urgent desire to get her hind parts out of that house. She might have gotten cocky after the doors opened without breaking a seal.

  It may have simply been the cold house which caused her to miss the chill brushing her neck as she reached for the oil painting. Too late, she noticed icy fingers playing at the base of her skull.

  The painting shimmered almost imperceptibly when she moved it, like a mirage.

  Lu let fly an unladylike string of swear words and bolted for the closing door. It moved as though pushed by a spectral hand. She glanced up and spied brass gears and pulleys above the lintel, shimmering with the iridescent glow of alchemy.

  The house wasn't rigged to keep thieves out. It was designed to trap them inside.

  Lu slid through the door with a hair's-breadth to spare. Her heart pounded in her chest, sheer terror making her pick up speed as she fled down the hall. She burst through the swinging kitchen door, scrambling across the cluttered kitchen floor. She looked towards the back door she'd left ajar.

  It was already closed.

  Dadgummit! I knew it!

  She whipped out her revolver, firing a shot at the door knob. The wood splintered around it. She kicked the door, hitting it near the bolt. Momentum pitched her forward, busting right through it. She hoped the bruises and splinters would be the worst of her troubles. The time for stealth was over. Now it was a matter of getting out in one piece.

  Give or take a few splinters and cuts.

  Running towards the woods where Bernadette was tethered, she realized something was wrong. The silence was palpable. The quiet terrified her more than the sound of
wild shots in the dark or the blare of an alarm. She could handle a band of slow-witted miners, even armed. The silence meant nothing human was set on her heels, and it wasn't in the Snow Queen's nature to let a foe escape without pursuit.

  That left the possibility of something inhuman hovering in the night air like a chill fog.

  A sound like the huffing of a winded draft horse broke the silence, followed by an awful metallic screech.

  The snorting grew louder and rhythmic, like a locomotive.

  The screeching dropped in pitch. It spooled out into a howling whine, joined by a scraping, chirruping clanks.

  "A smart thief never looks back." Lu mumbled out loud in a sing-song voice as she ran. "A smart thief never looks back. A smart thief never looks back."

  An act of will kept her head pointed the direction she ran, away from that awful sound. As she turned to mount her pony, she had to look. She immediately wished she hadn't.

  Next to the back door she'd blown through, the cellar door hung wide open. A set of enchanted gears and pulleys held it up, glimmering with arcane energy. A gas lamp hung from the corner of the house shone down, probably triggered by the painting's broken alchemical seal as well. It illuminated the wide expanse of the back lawn. Lu briefly considered shooting it out. She'd have preferred to not see what came up from the cellar.

  A mechanical wolf stalked up from below, looking like a creature released from the pit of hell. Gears and springs gleamed in the gas light. Red optics glowed from the sockets of a brushed steel skull. Big steel teeth lined an open maw, out of which heaved puffs of smoke mixed with steam. Scraping metal made a screeching howl as oil slowly worked into the beast's gears.

  The steam engine powering it snorted, as it twisted its head her direction, fixing her firmly in its blood-red gaze. A nimbus of eerie red light flickered and passed over its metal haunches, across its back, finally centering on the head.