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    A FEW hours later, Sev strolled along Cheapside, pretending to browse the booths and stalls as he tried to unravel the mystery of Kettlebent. Eventually someone calling out to him in French interrupted his aimless wandering. Sev glanced up to see Monty looking very pleased and waving him over. Although in no mood to talk to anyone until he could wrap his mind around recent events, Sev admitted he was curious.
    He lifted his hand as he crossed the street, avoiding a passing carriage harnessed to living horses. “Afternoon, Monty,” Sev said, raising his voice over the loud clopping of hooves. “Have ye found somethin’?” Monty responded with a silent nod. The little French peddler was visibly shaking with excitement. “What, Monty? What is it?”
    “Voilà.” Monty peeled back a small bit of soiled cloth to reveal the skeleton of a very unique pistol.
    “How’d ye manage t’get yer hands on this, mate?” Sev’s eyes grew wide. He wanted desperately to touch the small device.
    “It was luck, mon ami. I had parked my cart near zhe Line, and I heard a commotion.” Sev traced the long copper barrel, which ended in an odd metal fork where the bullets would usually emerge. The workmanship was delicate and strange. He studied the pieces as Monty continued to talk. “When I looked out zhe window, I saw three Blacksiders menacing a meandering gentleman. He appeared to be a little tipsy.” An odd, broken glass bulb replaced the chamber where the rounds would be loaded. The grip was molded rubber. Sev had never seen anything like it. “I zhought zhe man would be overcome within an instant, but he pulled out zhis device. Zhe bulb here,” Monty said and pointed at the broken glass. “It was sparking inside. Like zhe lightning.”
    “What?” Sev asked, astonished.
    “I know, Monsieur Sept. I know. I could not believe my eyes. His attackers were just as surprised. And zhen he started to turn zhis crank.” Monty flipped the gun to reveal a small handle attached to a gear that appeared to turn something in a copper tube running through the center of the glass bulb. “Zhe bulb grew brighter and zhen lightning erupted from zhe fork and one of zhe men fell to zhe ground.”
    “A lightning gun?” Sev breathed the words.
    “It would appear zhat way,” Monty answered. “But zhe bulb grew dark after zhat, and zhe other two men attacked. Zhe gun was knocked from his hand, where it broke on zhe street. You know how zhese things go.” Sev nodded. He knew. Monty glanced around to make sure their discussion remained unobserved.
    “Someone pulled out a knife,” Sev finished for the Frenchman. “They took his valuables and left the gentleman fer dead.”
    “Oui,” Monty agreed. “Zhey left zhe gun because it was broken. Zhe gentleman and his attacker were both dead. I didn’t think he would need his gun. Zhen I moved my cart.”
    “Wise decision,” Sev agreed. “What’s this?” Sev pointed to a small rod on the back of the gun above the grip, where the hammer should be.
    Monty shrugged. “Truly, I do not know. But look.” Monty pulled on the rod, revealing a thin copper wire trailing into the barrel. When Monty released the rod, the wire automatically retracted, pulling the rod back into its channel. “Amazing, non?”
    “Did ye search the dead fella?”
    “Oui, no way to know who zhe man was.”
    “Damn,” Sev growled. “Ye think the man who carried it invented it?”
    Monty shrugged again. “C’est possible.”
    “Ye think ye can fix it?”
    “Non,” the Frenchman answered, shaking his head. “Zhis is well beyond me.”
    “Someone has t’know somethin’ about it.” Sev spoke more to himself than the peddler. He was surprised when Monty’s finger snapped up to his lips. The Frenchman nodded to Sev’s left. Sev turned to see a small, filthy child standing just behind him. “What’s this, then?” he asked the urchin.
    “Oy, mate,” the child growled. “You Seven?”
    “Never