Quicksilver - Amanda Quick [6]
“It’s done,” Virginia said. She did not dare look away from the carriage. “Do what you must. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to maintain control.”
One could draw on one’s psychical reserves for only so long when employing them to the maximum degree, as she was doing now.
Owen did not waste time asking questions. He released her and moved swiftly around the corner into the passageway, where she stood facing the device. He used one booted foot to tip the entire miniature equipage onto its side. The legs of the horses continued to thrash rhythmically but uselessly in the air.
Virginia became aware of a muffled ticktock, ticktock. “Sounds like a clock.”
Owen crouched beside the weapon. “There must be a way to open this thing.”
He stripped off a glove and ran his fingertips lightly over the elegant curiosity.
“I thought you were going to smash it,” Virginia said.
“I’d rather preserve it intact, if possible. I want to study it. To my knowledge, no one has ever succeeded in infusing energy into an inanimate substance like glass in such a way that the currents could be activated by mechanical means. This device is really quite extraordinary.”
“Perhaps you could conduct your examination another time?” she suggested icily. “I cannot maintain control indefinitely.”
“Are you still out there, ma’am?” Becky called plaintively.
“We’re here, Becky,” Virginia responded. “Mr. Sweetwater, if you don’t mind?”
“Got it,” Owen said.
His fingers moved on the roof of the carriage. The top swung open on small hinges. He reached into the cab. A few seconds later the ticking ceased. The currents of energy that Virginia had been holding in neutral winked out of existence. Cautiously, she relaxed her senses. There was no more energy coming from the toy’s windows.
“A standard clockwork mechanism.” Owen got to his feet. “One stops the carriage just as one would a clock. Come, let’s find that girl.”
Virginia was already in motion. She went past a row of ancient dark cells, the lantern held high.
“Becky?” she called. “Where are you?”
“Damn it,” Owen muttered. He moved quickly to catch up with her. “Have a care, Virginia. There may be other traps.”
She was vaguely aware that he had used her first name as though they were longtime friends rather than near strangers, but she paid no attention. She stopped in front of a heavy wood-and-iron door. A small opening in the door was blocked by bars. A terrified young woman of no more than fourteen or fifteen years looked out, fingers gripping the iron rods. Her eyes were hollow with fear and tears.
“Are you badly hurt?” Virginia asked.
“No, ma’am. But it’s a good thing you came along when you did. There’s no telling what would have happened to me.”
Owen took out his lock pick. “I’ll have you out of there in a moment.”
“What occurred here?” Virginia asked gently.
Becky hesitated. “I don’t remember too much, ma’am. I was at my usual corner outside the tavern. A fine carriage stopped. A handsome gentleman inside leaned out and said he thought that I was very pretty. Said he’d pay me twice my usual fee. I got into the carriage, and that is the last thing that I recall until I woke up in this dreadful place. I called and called for the longest time, but no one ever answered. I gave up. Then I heard you and your gentleman friend.”
Owen got the door open and stood back. “Come along, Becky. We’ve wasted enough time here.”
Becky hurried out of the cell. “Thank you, sir.”
Owen did not respond. He was looking at the stone floor. Virginia felt dark energy shift in the atmosphere and knew that he had raised his talent, whatever it was.
“Interesting,” he said.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I believe this may have been where Hollister encountered the person who planted that knife in his chest.”
He kept his voice very low, but Virginia knew that Becky was not paying any attention. The girl was wholly focused on getting out of the stone tunnel.
“You can see that sort of thing?” Virginia asked.
“I can see