The 7th of London by Beau Schemery Read Free Book Online

started abducting children to work in their factories, any orphans or street kids migrated into gangs and groups to make sure they couldn’t be taken by the press-gangers and forced into the factories. “Think about it, Wave.” Sev watched as Waverly screwed up his face.
    “Ye’re right, Sev,” he agreed. “I haven’t seen any of the old Stickers around lately.” Sev nodded. They called them Stickers because of the large sticks and cudgels the children carried to rob people and protect themselves. “Y’know,” Waverly offered, “now that ye mention it, I’ve been overhearin’ some o’the foremen talkin’ lately. There’s kids disappearin’ from the sweatshops.”
    “What?” Sev blurted. This was news to him, and he made a point to help the kids in those factories. “How could I’ve not heard about this?”
    “I don’t know,” Waverly admitted. “But that’s what I’ve heard. Kids disappearin’ in the middle o’the night. Nothin’ obvious and never in large numbers, but here and there.”
    “I know over the years they’d lose a kid once in a while,” Sev mentioned.
    “Aye, me too. But lately, it’s been more frequent.” Sev listened to Waverly’s words and thought about the line of children marching out of Beauchamps’s. He debated whether he should tell his friend what he’d seen. He decided to tell Waverly everything that had taken place over the last few weeks. Waverly whistled. “That is peculiar,” Wave agreed. “What’re y’goin’ t’do?”
    “T’be honest?” Sev answered. “I got no idea. But somethin’ sure isn’t right around Blackside.”
    “I can’t believe Beauchamps is in on it,” Waverly said, shaking his head.
    “Neither could I,” Sev agreed.
    “Everybody loves her,” Waverly stated, sobering up.
    “I know.” Sev’s hand slipped onto his satchel, and he remembered the gun. He wondered if Waverly would know anything about it. “Wave,” he whispered, deciding to trust his old friend completely. “Ever seen anythin’ like this?” Sev produced the bundle and showed his companion the contents. Wave’s eyes grew wide like Sev’s had, and the pub hand shook his head. Sev hadn’t really expected him to.
    “I haven’t, but you know who might?” Wave asked. Sev shook his head. “Old Carrington.” Sev almost slapped his forehead. How could he have forgotten about Carrington? The old guy used to be one of the Ministry of Invention’s top minds. Lucius Carrington had been the driving force behind some of the Ministry’s most successful advancements, chief among them the auto-carriages. When the queen’s interests began opposing the poor, Carrington’s vocal objections and ideas that favored the working class were at first shunned and then denounced as treason. Fairgate had attempted to reason with the man, to give him one final chance to see sense and avoid punishment, but Carrington refused to cooperate and insulted the queen’s wizard, giving the crown no other choice. When the Coal-Eaters stormed Carrington’s laboratory to arrest the inventor, he and all his work were gone.
    “Well, aye, Carrington, but no one’s seen him in years,” Sev acknowledged.
    “Good point,” Waverly admitted. “What will you do?” The clock on the wall struck eleven.
    “First things first.” Sev stood. “I’ve got t’see Jack Midnight.”
     
     
    S EV trudged silently along the cold, mostly deserted streets of Blackside toward the most notorious building in Spitalfields. Midnight’s home and office resided in the former Christ Church on Commercial Street. There were hundreds of rumors about how a known felon and scoundrel was able to acquire the premises, and each was just as preposterous as the next. Sev’s favorite story included a deal with the devil in which Jack Midnight outsmarted God himself. Even now, Sev smiled at the thought. The true stories were the ones that made Sev shudder. No one called it Christ Church any longer, though. Now