Clockwork Menagerie: A Shadows of Asphodel Novella Read Free

debriefing.”
    Himmel saluted, always fond of formality, and strode away.
    After the ambassador left, Konstantin settled in a wicker chair with a sigh. The launch of a zeppelin should be thrilling, but he couldn’t help thinking something would go terribly wrong. Was this mission a mistake?
    With a jolt, the
Nachitgall
cast off from the mooring mast and powered its engines. Rumbling vibrated inside his ribcage. They floated high over Königsberg, the cathedral’s spire a needle pricking the sky, and followed the eastern lagoon. Once the icy water vanished over the horizon, it was a short flight to Russia.
    Enemy territory.
    Pines bristled below like the pelt of a black wolf. He touched his fingertips to the cold glass, searching for signs of war.
    “Falkenrath.”
    Konstantin flinched. “God, Himmel, what did I say about startling me?”
    Lingering by the windows, Himmel clasped his hands behind his back, skin linked with steel. “A storm is headed our way. If we gain altitude, we might be able to evade the turbulence.” He spoke in a brisk professional way.
    “You haven’t come to talk about the weather, have you?”
    Himmel stared at the toes of his polished boots. “Join me in my quarters.”
    Join? In his quarters? For?
    Konstantin sucked in a breath and tried not to babble. “May I ask why?”
    “I need you to take a look at my arm.”
    “Of course.”
    What a fool he’d been. Himmel would hardly demand
that
. Technomancy, though—that was something he could handle.
    Konstantin raised his eyebrows. “What seems to be the problem?”
    Himmel beckoned him and walked toward the nose of the zeppelin. They entered the captain’s quarters, furnished with lightweight wicker upholstered in blue. The sheets on the bed were made with military precision. Konstantin caught himself staring at the dent on the pillow, imagining Himmel sleeping alone.
    Damn, those were dangerous thoughts. He fiddled with a pen on a desk.
    Himmel took it away from him, his fingers rough with calluses. “Konstantin.”
    “Sorry.”
    Himmel gave him a funny look, like he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. “Could you adjust the wrist mechanism?”
    “I would need my toolkit, but yes. Why?”
    Himmel held out his mechanical arm and rotated it clockwise. The gears whirred before jamming and jerking counterclockwise.
    “That’s not good.” Konstantin headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
    As he strode to his cabin, his mind clicked like a thousand tiny gears. Being in Himmel’s cabin wasn’t scandalous. The crew wouldn’t talk. Would they? He grabbed his toolkit with sweaty hands and hurried back.
    Himmel sat on his bed, his head bowed, staring at his mechanical hand as he flexed his fingers. He looked oddly sad.
    Konstantin cleared his throat. “Would you mind removing it for me?”
    Using his teeth, Himmel loosened the straps and buckles, better at that task already. When he removed the gauntlet, he revealed his crippled hand, his fingers curled like claws ever since the airship accident.
    Konstantin’s heart squeezed, but he didn’t say a word. He placed the arm on the table, pulled up a chair, and opened his toolkit.
    “Well?” Himmel stood far too close behind him. “What’s wrong with it?”
    “I haven’t had a chance to find out yet.”
    Armed with a screwdriver, he loosened a plate of steel from the delicate wiring and clockwork within. The brass gears looked dull and darkened by grime, like they had been in contact with something corrosive.
    “Seawater?” Konstantin said.
    “Pardon?”
    “Have you been exposing this arm to seawater?”
    “I may have exposed it to one or two tide pools.”
    Konstantin looked sideways at him. “It’s not completely waterproof.”
    “I’m a Navy man.” Himmel laughed, a wonderfully rough sound. “I’m going to get wet.”
    Konstantin swiveled in the chair and peered up at him. “Were you performing naval maneuvers in a tide pool?”
    “Hardly.” Himmel