The Clockwork Dagger by Beth Cato Read Free Book Online

She almost convulsed in rage. He had no sense that these were living beings—even worse, he probably didn’t care. His ilk gallivanted off to war, expecting the joy of a fox hunt.
    â€œThe little beasties will come in here and rob the ship blind,” he said. “They’ll jack any piece of silver not bolted down. And they’re chimeras. Bloody constructs. They’re not natural .”
    Gremlins were chimeras? “Even as creatures of science, they still live and breathe and bleed.”
    â€œI doubt you’ll make any converts in this lot,” said Mrs. Stout, her breath huffing.
    â€œThese bucks don’t need conversion. They need common sense,” she said, moving forward, prepared to deliver more sense in the form of a heavy wooden tray.
    Airborne gremlins still darted throughout the room. More people had flooded the promenade, but the creatures proved agile enough to dodge most attacks. A harsh, alien scream sounded, the sudden music piercing. Several men in crimson garb dashed by.
    Octavia waded into the scrum. She knocked one man away from a gremlin, and in surprise he shoved her back. “You’re a woman!” he said, his jaw slack.
    â€œAnd you’re a fool,” she snapped.
    Stewards herded people toward the berthing. Mrs. Stout was engaged in an animated conversation with Little Daveo. Glass crunched underfoot, and Octavia studied the wreck of the room. Stains of alcohol and blood spattered the floor, green lumps of flesh strewn about.
    One of the stewards had a writhing burlap bag in hand and a thick club in the other.
    She advanced on him. “Can’t you just let them go free?”
    He studied her up and down, his expression more weary than anything. “Can’t, m’lady. Have to search them for missing jewelry and items from the ship. Gremlins are sneaky buggers. Worry not, we’ll take care of it quiet like. If you’re missing anything—”
    â€œNo, they stole nothing from me.” She turned away to get her bearings as discordant, terrible notes rang in her ears. It didn’t matter that scientists cobbled gremlins together in some laboratory—their death songs sounded the same as any other being under the Lady’s care.
    A heavy thud and squawk sounded behind her, the steward’s bat finding another target. Octavia ached to melt into the floor and cover her ears. She couldn’t tolerate this. She still had the tray in hand.
    I can attack the steward, get the bag—and then what? These people won’t grant me peace to heal the gremlins, and the steward isn’t the most guilty party in the room.
    As she turned away, she noted a small green lump in a library chair. The gremlin was mostly obscured by an open book, one leathery triangle of wing in contrast to the bright red upholstery. Octavia walked in that direction in a slow and controlled fashion. No one seemed to be looking her way. She sat down on the chair, angling her hips to shelter the creature. She heaved her satchel onto her lap and let that block out the world even more.
    Even before lifting the book, she knew this one was uninjured, his song soft as a hum and quickened by anxiety. She set aside the children’s book about the missing princess and gasped. This gremlin was half the size of the others. A mere baby. He whimpered and looked up at her. His long, tapered ears quivered. As hideous as he was, her spirit was moved.
    â€œShush, shush, little one. I won’t let you come to harm.”
    He quieted, as if comforted. She looked toward the windows. Several stewards were close by, already cleaning the carpet. They would order her out at any moment. The men would be on her before she could unlatch a window, of that she had no doubt.
    â€œMiss Leander, are you all right?” Mrs. Stout’s face was flushed, her fists trembling at her rounded hips. “I have filed a complaint and will take it to the captain himself. Those