The Franklin Deception (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 4) by Carpenter Thomas K

Author:Carpenter, Thomas K. [Carpenter, Thomas K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: steampunk, historical fantasy, ben franklin
Publisher: Black Moon Books
Published: 2015-06-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The stone arch covered in raised symbols beneath the Franklin Estate provided an imposing view to those who hadn't seen it before. Brassy ran her fingertips across the surface, flinching slightly when the archway shocked her.

"It did that to me upon first entering," I said. "Pay no mind to it."

A tiny, firm hand tugged on my pant leg. Aught, on her hind legs, encouraging forward progress.

"Hurry, Kat and Brassy," said Aught. "Ben, want to see."

"Yes, Aught, you'll see Ben below," I said. "Come, Brassy, let me show you the Thornveld."

She bit her lower lip, looking uneasy. "Are you certain that I'm allowed to visit this place? I have a feeling in my gut that tells me to run the other way."

"That's just the magic of the place, it keeps the curious away. Don't worry, you're in my protection. We need your help," I said.

Brassy hesitated at the threshold, so I took her hand in mine and pulled her forward. She took little shuffling steps, her lips straining with the effort of holding words back.

Aught ran ahead, scampering like a puppy on her first day outside. Her scales shifted and bounced. It sounded like a merchant jingling a bag of coins.

At the end of the tunnel, Brassy gasped. The sight of the underground village left the girl in a state of open-mouthed wonder. I wasn't going to tell her that this place was in another universe.

"Jumpin' Jupiter," muttered Brassy.

I squeezed her shoulder. Her normally fierce blue eyes were tinged with gray.

Ben had been expecting me, so the gondola waited for us. We moved inside. Aught climbed on the bench and placed her face against the window. She was bouncing and ticking.

The lever engaged the engine, and the gondola began its chugging motion down the wire, into the center of the antediluvian village. Brassy stayed clutched on my arm. She looked like she was in pain.

When the gondola lurched into the landing cradle with a loud clang, Brassy jumped.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here," she said.

I pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. She smelled like lavender. "You'll be fine. You're with me. Nothing bad will happen."

When the door opened, Aught went bounding out of the gondola, leapt off the platform, and went scampering after Franklin. We made it to the bottom of the wooden stairs before we saw the first galmi.

"What's that stone man?" asked Brassy, her voice ending in a high-pitched squeal.

On previous visits, the galmi had moved glacially, though efficiently. They’d had the pace of an old man, but the grace of a soldier. This one moved like an avalanche coming down the mountain. Around the corner, six more galmi moved towards us, heavy feet clacking against the stone.

Brassy screamed. I placed her behind my back, putting myself in front of the galmi. The stone workers rushed towards us, slowing only at the last moment.

I spun and turned, trying to put myself in front of them all, but it was impossible with so many. Before long, we were ringed by at least twenty of the galmi.

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