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CHAPTER THREE


Esther, summoned by a distant-thought spell courtesy of Tembo, arrived ten minutes later in the middle of a caravan of screeching black SUVs driven by Mundane Actual operatives. The members of Knight Watch stood in a loose semicircle in front of the store. Tesla and his weirdos were still inside. There are procedures in place to deal with all sorts of strangeness in the Unreal. And when encountering strange men claiming to be famous dead inventors, the SOP is to call the boss.

“That was fast,” I said as Esther disembarked. “I thought we were supposed to be the magic ones around here.”

“You’d be amazed what Gabby can do with five hundred horsepower and an air raid siren,” Esther answered. She was wearing her Knight Watch fatigues, a mix of olive drab coveralls and high-tech metal armor, short sword on one hip and 9mm on the other. The MA operatives who followed her were dressed similarly, with an emphasis on traditional firearms and terse commands. MA’s job was to keep us safe from mundane interference, be that curious journalists or angry criminals whose Unreal boss just got ganked by a kid in plate armor. Gabrielle Rodriguez was with them. She was technically my minder, personally assigned to watching over my parents. I think my mom believed we were dating, though why she thought a military-grade black woman with a shaved head would be interested in a sap like me was a complete mystery. Maternal optimism is endless. Esther shouldered her way through the Knight Watch team and stared nervously at the storefront. “Your Tell said something about a major anomalous incursion into the Unreal. What are we looking at? Ogres at a CrossFit? Succubi massage parlor?”

“Goblins in top hats,” Chesa said. “With guns.”

“Uh . . . what?”

“We were clearing out a hive of goblins in that used bookstore over there. Everything was going fine, until one of the goblins crawled out of the rubble in fancy dress with some kind of shoulder-mounted derringer.” I tapped the hole in my shoulder. “I thought firearms weren’t supposed to be able to pierce the Unreal. I feel pretty darn pierced.”

“Well, you’re a never-ending conundrum, Rast,” Esther said, looking over my shoulder at the bookstore. “Might be a one-shot adventure gone rogue. Any of you break protocols recently? Secretly eating processed foods or shaving with alternating current?”

“Everyone is within protocols, Esther,” Tembo said. “I did a scan before we deployed. We’re securely medieval.”

“Huh. Well, did you at least clear out the goblins?” she asked.

“Yeah, but then these other guys showed up. They seemed to know who we were. Guy inside claims to be Nikola Tesla,” I said. “Looks like he might have stolen the dangerous bits off an electric generator and strapped them to his back.”

“Oh, gods, no. Not the Society.” Esther winced and glanced over my shoulder, like she was dodging a clingy ex. “Did they bring that stupid train?”

“Train? No. But three of them walked through a door made of lightning.”

“Yeah, that’s Nik, alright. Explains the top hats. Who else is with him? That creepy chick with the mechanical spiders in her hair? Or Reverend Dynamo?”

“I didn’t get anyone else’s name,” I said. “They insulted our lack of hygiene, then asked for our help. We pulled back and dropped you a Tell.” Short for psychic telegram, a trick Tembo picked up some time back. Only to be used in emergencies, since it apparently disrupted cell service, along with turning all the water in its path into chicken broth. “So you know this guy?”

“Unfortunately.” Esther folded her arms and nodded to the door. “Looks like they’re coming out.”

The doors to Dog-eared Discount Books opened, and Tesla emerged, flanked by the gunslinger and her bulky friend. The plague doctor scuttled along behind, head twitching back and forth like a curious insect’s. Tesla threw his arms wide and smiled.

“Esther MacRae! So glad I’ve finally found you. The Watch is incredibly difficult to get a hold of. Have you given any thought to installing that telegraph device I proposed?” When he reached us, he embraced our commanding officer. I was too shocked to react. The concept of hugging Esther MacRae was too much to consider. Esther stood stiff as a board as the thin man’s arms wrapped around her head. “Ah, you smell like burnt strawberries.”

“And you smell like lightning and old tweed.” Esther squirmed out of the embrace. “What’s your team doing on the wrong side of the border? We were on a routine patrol when things started going all clockwork and top hats in there. Sounds like you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“It’s a matter of some delicacy, Esther. We need to employ the services of Knight Watch. It’s quite urgent. My entire team is spread out, searching for you, trying to make contact. I have agents in every county fair and knife shop this side of the Gray Havens. The Good Doctor was the first to report a promising encounter.” Tesla tipped his head at the plague doctor. “We employed the electro-port immediately.”

“Well, pull ’em out. I can’t imagine what sort of havoc your team is causing in my world. What are you thinking, risking the Unreal like that? The timelines are isolated. That’s the whole point of this operation.” The MA operatives were spreading out in a military cordon, encircling our position. The gunslinger flanking Tesla tapped her bulky companion on the shoulder, and two of them shifted slightly, as though they were preparing to fight. I wondered if we were about to get into a tussle with the nineteenth century. Esther seemed oblivious to the escalation. “We shouldn’t even be having this conversation. There are protocols in place.”

“I am well aware of your precious protocols, Esther. I helped form them,” Nik said sharply. At his side, the gunslinger loosened the revolver at her hip. “If it weren’t for me, we’d have another Henry Ford incident.”

“Oh, you love bringing up Ford and his damned séances!” Esther spat. “Well, how about Zeppelin and his love affair with that djinn, eh? What about that?”

“You know, as much as I enjoy watching the two of you stand in a parking lot yelling at one another, I think we’re all due an explanation,” I said, cutting between them. “I have no idea what’s going on, or why you’re both on the verge of violence, but it’s obvious that you know each other. So maybe you could clue the rest of us in? You know, before someone else gets shot.”

Both Esther and Tesla grimaced at me, before turning their energy back to scowling at one another. I sighed and extended my hand to the lanky electromage.

“I’ll start. Hi, I’m John Rast. I’m the tank. This is Chesa, Gregory, and Tembo.” My hand hung in the air between us, un-shook. I turned away from Tesla and presented myself to the gun-toting riverboat gambler. “I take it you’re the DPS? Or do you do things differently on your team?”

“Very differently,” she said, looking me up and down. “We take showers, for a start.”

“You know, the hygiene jokes are getting a little old. At least I have some history behind me. Where’d you get your costume? Fall into a vat of glue and roll around the inside of a grandfather clock for a while?”

“Careful, child.” The woman bristled. “You’re wearing a lot of metal to be insulting a friend of Nikola Tesla.”

“I just think we’re all being equally weird, here, and there’s no reason weird people shouldn’t get along,” I said. “The real world sucks enough without geeks going for each other’s throats all the time.”

“At least we’re in agreement on that,” Tesla said, smiling grimly. He put a hand on the gunslinger’s shoulder. “As well as how important the protocols are that isolate us from one another. I hope that makes clear how dire our situation has become.”

“Fine. If something has spooked you badly enough to seek us out, it must be serious,” Esther said. “I have some forms for everyone to fill out.”

Tesla smiled stiffly at Esther. “Good to see you’re still as daintily truculent as ever. How is Clarence?”

“Retired. Along with everyone else you knew. Whole new team.” Esther relaxed. “What about you? Josiah still driving you insane?”

“Alas, dear Josiah has passed from this world. He’s set up shop on Venus, last time I checked. And Cleopatra broke her promise to Anansi. It wasn’t pretty. How about—”

“We’re not here to reminisce about old names, Nik. In fact, the last time we talked, I think you threatened to drop a bomb on Mundane Actual if I ever screwed with your timeline again. So.” Esther cocked her head, looking down her oft-broken nose at Tesla, which was quite a feat considering how much taller he was. “What brings you to the Unreal?”

“It’s best we discuss it in private, if possible. There are certain aspects that are, um, sensitive.” Tesla cast a disapproving eye over the Knight Watch team. “If possible, we should adjourn to the Silverhawk. Talk about old times.”

“Old times are over, Nik,” Esther said.

“Not for us, they’re not. I think that’s the point, isn’t it?”

For a long moment, it seemed like Esther would turn him away. Then she let out a long, exasperated sigh. “The Silverhawk, then. Safer than bringing the rest of you into Mundane Actual.”

“What the hell’s a silver hawk?” I asked.

“It is better to show than to tell. Don’t the bibliomancers say that?” Tesla swept his arms toward the sky and gestured to a gray smudge, descending from the clouds.

The gray smudge resolved into a flat tube against the low-lying clouds. As it drew closer, I could make out the sleek prow of a vessel, its sides reflecting the sunlight in shades of brass and silver and gold. The overall shape of the vessel was like a humpback whale, down to fins that paddled the air. A series of smokestacks bristled down its dorsal spine, though whatever exhaust they released was invisible at this distance. Glass observation decks hung from sponson terraces above the fins, and a much larger glass dome crowned the top of the ship, about one-third of the way down the length. My first impression was of tremendous size, but as it settled onto the grass next to Naglfr, I realized it wasn’t much larger than a really nice yacht, maybe thirty or forty yards in length, though it was easily ten yards tall.

The airship didn’t land so much as hover a few feet off the ground, wafting back and forth like a balloon on a string. Several figures watched us from the sponson deck on this side of the vessel (port? Starside? I’m not a water person), but the first sign of movement came from the front of the ship. A hidden port irised open and a set of ornate stairs rolled down, each step articulated by a set of hissing pistons that flexed to keep it level, even as the ship rose and fell slightly in the breeze.

“Oh, cool. You have a zeppelin!” I exclaimed.

“It is not a bloody zeppelin!” Tesla said sharply. “Kids these days, calling everything that flies a bloody zeppelin. You’d think the Hindenburg was a mild sunburn.” He stomped aggressively up the stairs, followed by the rest of his team. Esther shot me a warning look.

“He’s sensitive about the nomenclature,” she said. “Whatever you do, don’t talk about alternating current or lightbulbs.”

“Seems like an odd trigger, but okay.”

“Gabbie, make sure no one gets near that longship,” Esther called over her shoulder. “Maybe deploy some tactical deodorant to mask the smell. We don’t want to draw the attention of the EPA.”

“Aye, Chief,” Gabriella said, turning to bark orders at her troops. The rest of us followed Esther up into the belly of the flying clockwork whale


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