Read The Clockwork Dagger for Free Online Page B

“Harmless little creatures, really. Well, unless you’re wearing silver.”
    Self-conscious, Octavia looked at the others. They all laughed together, but not at her. The woman wore wine down the front of her glittery dress. Little Daveo was already there with rags in hand to clean up the floor.
    â€œThere’s rarely only one gremlin, though,” said Mrs. Stout. “Most often it means we’re flying through a flock—”
    A flutter of green filled the windows. More screams came from the other side of the ship. Octavia turned to see the toddler in a mad dash, his face whitened with terror, his mother in quick pursuit.
    One of the young men called to a compatriot, “Go down to the smoking room! Tell the others to come up for some fun.”
    Fun? What could possibly be fun about these strange little creatures flying around outside?
    â€œMiss Leander, I do believe we should retire to our room for now,” said Mrs. Stout, clutching her arm.
    â€œWhy? I don’t under—”
    Green flashed through the air not five feet away. One of the men laughed as he staggered in pursuit, a chair in his hands. Her gaze went to the open windows. Little green bodies flooded the gap. Those dark eyes studied the room, heads cocked in jerky little movements, like a bird or a construct. More wings filled the air. A woman screamed. Glass shattered. Heavy, metallic thuds drew her attention to the young man with the chair. He was bludgeoning the gremlin. Music of blood crackled in Octavia’s ears, the sound inhuman and discordant, and then it quieted. The man dropped the chair and held up the limp body. The thing couldn’t have been more than a foot in diameter. It oozed strangely dark blood, its extremities dangling like a slack marionette.
    Around her, blood screamed more loudly than laughter and the crunch of chairs and whatever other weapons the drunken gang had grabbed. Little Daveo, his face flushed, rushed to a bell along the wall.
    â€œJust shut the windows and we’ll take care of them!” he shouted.
    â€œAnd you’ll end all the fun!” cried a man.
    â€œDamned flying rats,” yelled another man. “Think you can bring Caskentia down more, eh? I’ll show you . . .”
    The young woman screamed shrilly and then the sound was choked off. A gremlin, no larger than an ottoman, had gripped her necklaces and hoisted her upward with impossible strength. The woman’s slippered feet dangled above the ground. The man beside her managed to force her head down, allowing the necklaces to fly freely into the gremlin’s grip. Its toothy smile of triumph sent a chill through Octavia.
    Everything seemed to take place in a matter of seconds. Mrs. Stout shouted something that was lost in the din. Octavia looked for others in need and only saw gremlins swirling about, clattering on windows. They wanted out. No one else wore silver. A man attacked a gremlin from behind, crushing it with a well-aimed kick.
    As horrible and hideous as the creatures might be, they had the clear disadvantage. This was a slaughter.
    Octavia dove for a tray left abandoned on a table. Her satchel bounced heavily against her hip. The nearest man was hunched over as he stomped the gremlin to death. She smashed the tray against the side of the man’s head. He crashed to the ground, dazed.
    Beady black eyes blinked at her from a puddle of blood and crushed green flesh. Before she could even step forward, its shrill music faded.
    â€œKethan’s bastards, what was that for?” snarled the man as he bounded to his feet. His body’s song was steady yet sluggish with inebriation.
    â€œYou drunken josser! Just let the creature out! That’s all it wants. It didn’t even steal any silver.” She held up the tray again as a threat.
    â€œBah. It’s just a bit of fun,” he said, rubbing his ear.
    â€œYour concept of fun is like kicking fresh cow patties.”