Black Mercury

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

Cas spent most of his afternoon at the house of Lukas Rosenthal, awaiting his friend’s return. He arranged himself on a sofa, with as many soft things under his neck as would fit, and spent most of the time dozing. Clara had forced some medication on him, and he had to admit that it helped. He felt pleasantly drowsy and remarkably unconcerned about the dramatic events of the day.

At the back of his mind, though, lurked the notion that Luk would probably be a bit annoyed about it all. So he waited.

It was late in the afternoon when Luk finally came in. His leg was splinted and he walked with the aid of a pair of metal crutches. He looked tired, his normally handsome features drawn with weariness and barely controlled anger. Cas watched as his friend made his awkward way through the front door and closed it behind him. Only then did it occur to him that he ought to have helped.

“So, Luk,” he said, sitting up carefully. “Who did it?”

Lukas looked round in surprise. Apparently he’d been too busy navigating on the new crutches to notice that he had a visitor.

“Cas,” he said by way of greeting. He eased himself into a chair, stretched his leg out in front of him, and let out a long sigh. “Mik Hass.”

Cas said nothing for a moment, turning the name over in his sluggish mind. Mik Hass. He was one of those drivers who just about managed to stay in the competition but never did very well in it. No one had expected him to qualify for the Cup, and some had said he’d somehow cheated his way in. Neither Mik nor anyone else had any illusions about where he’d place.

“Same reason you were late to the starting line?” Cas enquired.

Luk grunted. “Jammed door to the water closet. Kept me penned up for five or ten minutes—just long enough. After that the door miraculously unjammed itself.”

“You see anyone?”

Luk shook his head.

Cas pondered all that. “So, Hass,” he said after a moment. “Even with you out, he’s got no chance.”

“They disqualified him anyway. He’s banned from taking part in any future events, too.”

“Not surprised,” Cas grunted, concealing the spasm of nerves that comment generated.

Luk picked up on it anyway. “There’s talk of kicking you out too, Cas.”

Cas groaned. “Think they will?”

Luk shrugged. “They haven’t yet, which is a good sign.” He frowned at Caspar. Pain had put rings around his eyes almost as dark as his hair. “Stupid of you.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been told.”

“So why do it?”

Cas lay back down on the sofa, wincing as his neck muscles jarred. “Couldn’t let the bastard get away with it.”

Luk said nothing.

“Why Hass?” Cas said again after a moment. “I don’t see how he’d gain by forcing you out.”

“Someone paid him to do it, of course. Hass knew he hadn’t a chance of winning the Cup. He was making way for someone else.”

Cas grunted. “Like who?”

“No idea. He wouldn’t talk. Just grinned and walked off.”

Cas sat up again. “Right. That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“The man needs his face broken,” Cas said, wandering over to the door. He suffered a head rush halfway there and swayed.

Lukas snorted. “Yeah, and you look like just the person for the job.”

Scowling, Cas staggered back to the sofa and slumped down.

Lukas stared at him for several silent moments, his face unreadable. “So I’m out,” he said at last. “How bad’s the damage to your carriage?”

“Fixable.”

Luk nodded. “Fixable in time?”

“If Aunt Hild comes to my rescue, yes. If not… well, I don’t think my father would pay for it again.”

Lukas grinned. “He still trying to persuade you to quit?”

“With gusto.”

“Well, maybe he’s got a point. We aren’t getting any younger.” Luk hesitated. “I was going to tell you, Cas. After the Cup, I was planning to bow out anyway.”

Caspar blinked at his friend, knocked speechless for an instant or two. “Leave racing?”

“I’m over thirty. It’s time to find something else.” He sighed. “Only, I suppose I’ll be doing that without my last hurrah.”

Cas nodded slowly. “If I’m still in, I’ll do my best.”

“What? To win it for me?” Lukas laughed outright. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Well. For me too,” Cas conceded with a grin. “Got to cut off that bastard, too.”

“Which one in particular?”

“Um. Whoever paid Hass to eliminate you.”

“Right.” Luk frowned. “I’ll see what I can find out. I don’t have a whole lot else to do for the next few days anyway.”

Cas nodded glumly. “Nor I, I suppose. Neck messed up, car ruined.”

“Leg broken.”

“Er. Yeah, sorry. Worse for you.”

Luk opened his mouth to add something, but stopped when his front door flew open and someone stepped into the tiny passageway adjacent to the parlour they were sitting in. A woman, by the sound of the footsteps. And the way the door almost slammed was familiar, too.

“Clara,” Cas said as his nominal assistant walked into the room. “Since when have you had a key to Lukas’s house?”

“Since last month,” she said, and turned her back on him. “Luk. How bad is it?”

There followed a conversation held in undertones, to which Cas was too gentlemanly to listen. Much.

“Why have you got a key to Luk’s house?” he interrupted at the first opportunity.

Clara shot him one of her looks. This one said, isn’t it obvious?

Judging from the way she was fussing over Luk’s splinted leg, smiling with anxious concern, perhaps it was. She clinched the matter by leaning down to plant a kiss on Luk’s forehead, then on his mouth.

Oh.

“Right, well, I can see when I’m in the way,” he said, and hauled himself to his feet. “I’ll be at home. Sleeping.”

“See that you do sleep,” Clara said over her shoulder. “I’ve instructions to take you to the track at ten.”

“Ten,” Cas repeated numbly. “Isn’t that a bit early?”

“Or late, perhaps?”

“What… you mean ten at night?”

“I do mean ten at night.”

“What in the world for?”

Clara turned to face him at last, wearing that annoying no-nonsense expression. “Because your aunt is already on her way out there with some of her people. They’re going all out to fix your car. At ten, or rather later, you’ll be driving it.”

“Driving it,” Cas repeated. He glanced at Lukas, recumbent and with his leg in a splint, then back at Clara. “Did it escape your attention that Lukas wasn’t the only person injured today?”

“It didn’t.”

Cas grunted.

“Your aunt’s going well out of her way to do this for you, Cas,” Clara said coolly. “She needs something from you in return. You’ll be glad to help her, won’t you?”

Sighing, Cas said, “Of course, of course. Anything for Aunt Hild. I’ll need more of that medicine, though.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Or you’ll be too sleepy to drive.”

He blinked. “But my neck hurts.”

“So live with the pain.”

Cas sloped off to the door, scowling. Another head rush hit him halfway there and he swayed, groping about for something to prop him up. He found the edge of the open door and hung onto it.

He heard Clara sigh from behind him. “I’d better take you home.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“Clearly.” She shook her head, lips twitching in a wry smile as she guided him through the door.

“Are you coming back?” Luk called.

Cas opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. Luk was talking to Clara, of course.

“If I can,” she replied. She left Cas for a moment and whispered something to Luk in an undertone. Cas kept his face averted as she bestowed more affection on his friend. Then she was back at his side, ushering him out of the house. “Can you manage to walk a bit?” she asked.

“Walking is pretty simple,” he said with infinite dignity. “I’ve been doing it for years.”

She grinned. “Without falling over, if you please.”

He grinned back. “You looked nice in the green thing.”

Clara’s eyes widened in surprise. “My skirt? Oh. Thank you.”

He nodded, feeling faintly embarrassed. She’d tied her hair back in a neat braid, her usual hairstyle. It looked nice—she always looked nice—but he wished she’d left it loose. She had beautiful hair: long and inky black, striking with her pale brown skin.

Silence stretched and he coughed. “Homeward?”

“Homeward,” she agreed with a smile.

***

A few hours of sleep improved Caspar’s mood considerably. By the time he had cleaned himself up and filled his empty stomach, he was almost optimistic again. The fate of his autocarriage didn’t seem so terrible; after all, his aunt Hildegard could fix anything. His neck didn’t hurt quite as much. Even Clara’s defection to Lukas’s corner didn’t seem so very bad. When she turned up in person to escort him to the track, he felt even better. She hardly scolded him at all.

The overhead train was all but deserted at night, so they had at least eighteen seats to themselves. Cas was pleased when Clara chose to sit next to him anyway. “So, you and Luk,” he said, trying to sound casual. “How long have you two been…?”

Clara looked his way briefly out of the corner of her eye. That was her appraising look, when she was trying to figure out what he wasn’t saying. She usually managed that without any trouble, which didn’t say a lot for his talent for mystique.

“I don’t know. A few weeks?”

“Right.” He paused. “I didn’t know.”

She shifted in her seat, turning herself more towards the window and away from him. “It wasn’t your business.”

“But—”

“Hush, Cas, please. It’s going to be a long night, and I have a lot to think about.”

Caspar hushed.

All the lights were on when they arrived at the track. It looked cheery and welcoming, like a fairground at night. There was a certain bustle in the air; that feeling of feverish activity taking place somewhere just out of sight. Clara led him straight to the corner where he’d crashed. His autocarriage was still there, sitting forlornly off to one side of the track. He could hardly see it under the swarm of people at work on his poor machine.

“Where did she get all these people?” Cas said, surprised.

“I think she raided Max’s staff,” Clara said with a chuckle. “Probably without asking him.”

“It’s good of her to go to so much trouble.” He made to advance, but Clara grabbed his arm.

“Don’t get in the way,” she cautioned. “It’ll be done soon. And… don’t be too grateful. I don’t think this has all that much to do with you.”

“It doesn’t?” He stared at her, surprised. “What else could it possibly have to do with?”

“You’ll see. There, looks like she’s about done.”

Clara was right. The crush around the autocarriage was thinning out as groups of engineers backed off. He couldn’t tell too well in this light and at this distance, but the vehicle looked pretty sound again.

Hildegard’s tall figure separated from a pack of engineers and she approached, smiling. “Hello, nephew,” she said in a loud, carrying voice. “Just about fixed, my boy. You’re all ready for tomorrow’s tests.”

“I can hear you just fine,” he protested.

Hildegard winked at him and turned back to her purloined workers. “That’s it, chaps, thank you. You can go.”

Cas watched, confused, as most of the dark figures streamed off the track and away, taking their tools and machinery with them. Only four remained besides Hildy herself.

“Hild. Aren’t we supposed to do the test drive before you dismiss the team? You know, make sure everything is working and all that?”

“Correct!” she beamed. “And we will, only I’d rather not have an audience for this next part.”

This was secretive, even for Hildy. Cas just shook his head and forbore to question her further. Aunt Hild was obviously not going to explain—and neither was Clara, who was just as obviously in the thick of this particular piece of cloak-and-daggery. “All right, Aunt. Let me know when we’re ready.”

“Til will get it back on the track in a minute,” she said. “Your neck okay?”

It wasn’t, really. Some of the agony of the morning had faded, but the longer he was up and walking around, the more his strained muscles protested. “I’ll be fine for a quick test drive,” he said confidently.

She nodded, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Excellent! You’re a good sort, Cas. Shouldn’t take long.”

Caspar stood back with Clara as one of Hildy’s people, the big one he knew vaguely as Til, got into his autocarriage and drove it carefully back onto the track. The machine seemed to be running fine, as far as Cas could tell; the boiler was bubbling ferociously, pouring steam out into the night air. Cas took a step forward, ready to take Til’s place, but Clara grabbed his wrist.

“Wait a moment,” she said.

“What? Why?”

Clara said nothing, just nodded meaningfully at the autocarriage. Confused, Cas watched as Til brought the machine to a halt and… turned off the engine. Then he got out and opened up the boiler. Cas could hear the faint sound of water running out onto the ground.

“He just drained the boiler,” Caspar said. “Why did he just drain the boiler?”

“Be quiet for two seconds, Cas, can’t you? You’ll see in a moment.”

Cas sighed and subsided. Clara and his aunt frequently agreed with one another, even colluded together, though he couldn’t see why. And he was always excluded. It wasn’t terribly fair, he thought resentfully, given that this was his racing career.