Chapter 10:
"Consequences"

August 4, 1915
London Zoological Society

Alek hadn't slept in days. The second he laid down his head and shut his eyes, images of Deryn filled his mind.

At first, she was always smiling. But her eyes were haunted and opaque, and when he looked into them he saw his own reflection. He saw his own disheveled hair, pallid skin, and bloodshot eyes. He looked miserable. Hopeless.

You left me there, Deryn breathed softly, in a voice wrought with despair. She was still smiling, but her eyes overflowed with tears. I needed you, and you abandoned me.

Alek knew he was being ridiculous. Deryn would sooner attend a tea party and play with dolls than she would cry so openly. And if she knew just how much he was worrying about her, she'd shoot him a determined grin and order him to "Buck up, you dumkopf. We've survived bigger tangles than this one."

But still, sleep was impossible. And he wasn't about to waste another moment fretting uselessly over what he could not control. So he may as well do something reckless and brash. Something that Deryn would do.

Alek decided to investigate.

The glowworm lantern on the nightstand next to his bed had always made him cringe, and the thought of picking it up and carrying it around with him made him feel a bit ill, but Alek ignored his irrational cowardice and picked it up all the same.

The Society's halls seemed far more foreboding at night, when bronze sunlight wasn't filtering in through massive windowpanes. Though the glowworm chandeliers remained lit, they all produced an eerie greenish light that made the shadows seem to writhe in the corner of Alek's eyes.

But this was no time for unease. Morning would come soon, and snooping was much easier in the dark.

Eliot Vost had declined Dr. Barlow's offer to sleep in one of the Society's many guest rooms until his partner could be found, but he had left his overcoat in Dr. Barlow's office. It may not be much, but it was the only personal effect of his that Alek had.

Alek crept inside the office silently, closing the door behind him as gently as he could. Eliot's coat was draped over the back of one of the chairs. The black fabric looked sinister in the light of Alek's glowworm lantern.

He gingerly set the lantern on the desk and began digging through the coat pockets. There wasn't much inside- a few coins, a note bearing the Society's address that had been scrawled hastily in pen, and an oddly shaped key. Alek held it close to the lantern to examine it- it was larger than most keys he'd seen, and it was ornate as well. He couldn't possibly imagine what it might unlock. A door, a chest, a safebox?

He thought for a moment, and placed the note and coins back in the coat pockets. But he slipped the key into his own pocket. Whatever it might unlock, Alek was sure it had to be important. Why else would Vost carry it around with him?

Alek peered out the window into the night. The starlight was dim, and clouds made the moon look murky. He stared through the glass at the street below, rubbing the key between his fingers thoughtfully. Alek pondered the possibilities. Vost might notice the key was missing, but even if he did, why would he suspect Alek? Then again, he forgot his coat. He might not even realize it was missing.

Something moved in the street below. A boy, hands tucked in his pockets, strolling lazily towards the Society entrance. Alek didn't recognize him, but he was still suspicious. It wouldn't be light for at least two more hours. What business could he possibly have with the Society now?

The boy reached inside his coat and retrieved something. He was too far away for Alek to see his face or expression, but it was obvious that he was tense. The boy quickly looked side to side, as if scanning the street to see if anyone was watching him, and placed the object on the steps of the Society.

This was wrong. This was too odd. Alek knew the Society was involved with clandestine activity, but a competent informant would never leave something on the doorstep, where someone not affiliated with the Society could find it.

The old Alek, prince Aleksander, would have done nothing. He would not have concerned himself with such a trivial matter. He probably wouldn't even bother to tell a servant about it.

But this Alek snatched the glowworm lantern and raced out of Dr. Barlow's office, down the spiral staircase to the first floor, and out the entrance. He was out of breath by the time he was at the front steps, and he was sure the boy was long gone by now. There would be no point in chasing after him- Alek hadn't even waited to see which direction he had gone.

But there it was- the object that the mysterious boy had placed on the steps. A thick envelope, with something stuffed inside that was certainly not paper. As Alek bent to pick it up, he saw that there was something written on the label in thick black lettering. Just one word: PROOF.

Alek woke Volger immediately. He expected the Count to be irritated, but the moment Alek showed him the sealed envelope, he sprang out of bed.

"I shall fetch Dr. Barlow. Take that envelope to her office and wait for us there." Alek nodded, slightly amused by seeing Volger in stockings, and turned to leave. "Aleksander," the Count added in a serious tone. "Do not open the envelope. Wait for us." Alek nodded- the Count rarely gave him such a straightforward order. This had to be important.

Alek had been waiting only a few minutes in Dr. Barlow's office before she and the Count stormed in. The doctor, barefoot and dressed in a long gray nightgown, seemed utterly unfazed by the entire situation.

"Well, Alek? Have you got it?" She inquired formally. Alek nodded, and gestured toward the desk where he'd placed it. For some reason he could not explain, he had felt a strange urge to set it down. It felt too dangerous for him to hold.

Dr. Barlow snatched it up immediately and examined the writing on the front. "When was this delivered?" She asked, peering at the word PROOF as if she expected it to change.

"I woke the Count as soon as I saw what it was. It couldn't have been that long ago." Alek replied.

"Very well then. We might a well see what's inside, then." Dr. Barlow tore the envelope's seal and dumped its contents on the desk before them in one smooth motion.

"Oh," she said very quietly, and placed a hand over her mouth.

Alek felt bile rise in the back of his throat. His gut churned and he nearly retched. Every one of his instincts was screaming at him to look away from that...that thing on the desk. But he couldn't tear his eyes from it.

"This is a message." Count Volger claimed in a low voice.

"And not a good one," Alek agreed.

"No, Alek." Volger corrected. "It is an actual message. That is… or at least, was, a message lizard."

It was true. The creature on the desk before them was a message lizard...but it had been horrifically mutilated. Its legs and tail were gone completely- they had been cut or ripped off. All the remained of the poor fabrication was the head and body.

And then it began to speak.

"What do you think, princess?" The lizard rasped in a voice that Alek instantly recognized.

"It's him!" Alek exclaimed. "That's the man from the gala, the one who said he was from the Brigade!" Dr. Barlow and the Count looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

The lizard continued speaking in that gruff, dark voice. "Do you think your little finger would do as proof? What about your ear, or your nose? What about your pretty red lips? You won't be doing much kissing after that, will you? Or perhaps I'll take one of those. I think that would be proof enough."

Alek's knees buckled. His entire body felt frozen, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose. He wasn't even sure his heart was still beating. "No." He choked. "NO..." Every muscle in his body stiffened.

"Do not touch me, you snake." It was Deryn's voice. It was masked by her false British accent, but it was her voice all the same. Of course it was. Of course she would say that.

"My, how unladylike of you," the message lizard snarled in the man's gruff voice again. "But I am a gentleman. So I will offer you a chance to save yourself a bit of pain."

"Is that…" Deryn's voice began, "is that a message lizard? I thought the Brigade believed fabrications were abominations."

"It is! One of your Darwinist madmen played with its miniature brain a bit, so it's going to remember everything we're saying right now." The lizard replied in the man's gruff voice. "And you, gentle princess, are going to cut off all of its tiny limbs to save your own."

"I will do no such thing!" The lizard snapped shrilly in Deryn's voice.

"I am a generous man. I'm giving you an opportunity. I'm going to be quite insulted if you reject it."

"You can slice off all my fingers, cut off my ears, and snatch out my eyes, but you can never make me hurt that creature." Deryn's voice was firm, and held no trace of fear.

"I can also make you wish you'd never been born," the lizard rasped.

"Rot in hell, you twisted bastard."

The lizard produced a few muffled sounds, and then let out a high-pitched cry of pain in Deryn's voice. Alek clenched his fists.

"I'd love to wring your neck, princess, but I haven't got the time this evening. Oh, and to whoever is listening, the fat moron is alive, too. I do hope this was proof enough. And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to rip this little lizard's legs off."

The lizard's maimed body shook violently for a moment, and then became still. Alek stared blankly at the corpse. Who could do this? Who would do this?

Deryn was alive. But she was also at the mercy of a monster.

...

August 4, 1915
Unknown Location

Deryn was no fool. She knew that her time was running out. She'd acted like a barking moron the day before when that twisted bum-rag had threatened her. No dainty posh princess had the term 'bastard' in her vocabulary, but Deryn, ninny that she was, had blurted it out without a single thought. The scoundrel had been so furious at her outburst that he'd knocked out one of her teeth.

After he had left, Edward wordlessly untied Deryn and the boffin, as if offering a silent apology, and gently helped Deryn sit up.

"You're bleeding," he said, sounding surprised.

"Of course I'm bleeding, that weasel practically took my barking head off" was what Deryn wanted to say, but instead she just spat out a glob of saliva and blood.

Of course, the mad boffin she was imprisoned with was faring quite better than she was. Despite the fact that his life was in peril and he'd just watched a madman pluck the legs off a poor defenseless beastie, Sullivan seemed unable to grasp the severity of the situation. Shortly after their captor had stormed out, he'd removed his boots, put them on his hands, and had begun clapping cheerfully. Today, however, he had placed them next to him on the ground before him and seemed to be having a delightful tea party with them.

Deryn grudgingly admired his blissful ignorance. But then again, she'd likely have a much better shot at getting out of here with her life if she were trapped with a sane scientist instead of one who had gone completely off his rocker.

"You are a total mess," Edward sighed, as if it were her fault. "I must admit, I never expected you would say something like that. I thought you were too poised."

"I suppose everyone has their breaking point," Deryn replied, wiping blood off her chin with her thumb. "That man is needlessly cruel. It disgusts me." She glared at Edward, her suspicion rising. "Why are you helping me? Aren't you on his side? You work for him, after all."

Edward gave a wry grin- the same goofy smile he had displayed at the gala, the one that had made her agree to dance with him. "I don't suppose I really have much choice in the matter."

"Of course you have a choice!" Deryn argued. "You owe that man nothing. Just because you disagree with Darwinist science, just because your ideas align, that doesn't mean you have an obligation to follow him! You told me that you cared about animals, that you wanted to keep them from suffering. You saw what he did to that lizard. He tortured it. Doesn't that go against everything you told me about wanting to protect animals?" Deryn silenced, rubbing her sore jaw.

"You say I don't owe him anything?" Edward laughed. "That I have a choice? You're wrong about that. It doesn't matter if I don't agree with his methods. I owe him my life."

"What?" Deryn asked with surprise.

Edward looked away, as if ashamed. "I can't say anything more." He retorted softly.

Deryn had to stop herself from snorting. It would be unladylike. "What's the harm in revealing your secret?" She asked, gesturing to the room around her. "Who would I tell? Him?" She pointed at Sullivan, who was scraping his wooden spoon against the wall with surprising ferocity.

"It's not that," Edward sighed abysmally. "Besides, it doesn't concern you. What should concern you is the stench in here. It's bloody rotten." He crinkled his nose.

"Well, I don't suppose you could blame us for that? Believe me, I'd do just about anything for a bath." Deryn huffed.

"Look, you've even managed to get gunk on your face!" Edward reached out and rubbed his thumb against her hairline. It came away black. It wasn't dirt, Deryn realized, but the henna dye that had been used to darken her hair. It had only been meant to last a single night, and it had been in her hair more than a week. Her entire disguise was falling apart.

"The best I can get you is a bucket of cold water and a cloth," Edward said grudgingly. "But I suppose it's better than nothing." He made his way towards the door. "I'm not doing this for you. I just can't take your wretched stink anymore."

The enormous door groaned shut and Deryn heaved a sigh.

"I suppose it's just you and me. Again," she said. Sullivan continued scraping his spoon against the wall as if she'd said nothing.

"You don't make the best conversation partner," Deryn scoffed.

"How long do you expect your disguise to hold up?" Replied the doctor, still not looking at her.

Deryn paused. "What disguise?" She asked slowly.

"You've got to be the most ill-tempered princess I've ever heard of. And with a Scottish accent to boot. You're no more a princess than I am a madman." The boffin elaborated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Wait...you mean you're not...I don't understand!" Deryn garbled. "You… you like tea!"

"An astute observation indeed." Sullivan chuckled. "But we haven't the time to discuss it. This is our opportunity." He turned and offered Deryn his spoon.

"Our opportunity to eat porridge?" Deryn asked hesitantly.

"And you thought I was the fool," Sullivan scoffed. "It's a weapon." It was only then that she noticed that the spoon's handle had been sharpened to a deadly point.

"You were...you were making a weapon?" Deryn asked, incredulous.

"What else could I have possibly been doing?" Sullivan asked, adjusting his jacket. "Now take it. We haven't got much time until that numbskull returns, and when he does, we'll need to act."

"Don't you need a weapon, too?" Deryn asked accepting the spoon.

Chester held up his bootlaces to provide an example. "Excellent for strangling."

Deryn nodded. "I'm not going to be much help in these clothes, so when he comes back you should get behind him and get those around his neck while he doesn't suspect anything. Then I can take his clothes and we can get out of this room." She sighed. "After that, well, we'll have to make it up as we go along."

"Very well," Sullivan agreed. "You don't seem particularly flustered by this situation, do you?"

Deryn rolled her eyes. "I used to be a barking fantastic airman. Not much surprises me, and I've got a mean punch."

Sullivan rubbed his bulbous belly and smiled. "I suppose we both had something up our sleeves, didn't we?"

"It would have been nice to know that you weren't stark raving mad," Deryn pointed out. "At least then we could have carried on a conversation. Or planned an escape before this."

"I would have done, really," Sullivan admitted, "but I didn't know that you weren't a princess until you just admitted it to me now. And quite honestly I was certain you would be of no help."

"Well then," Deryn grinned, "let's hope you're wrong about that."