‘the Seventh of London’?” Sev asked.
“That’s what the orphans call you.” Midnight turned, his opal eyes sparkling. “You’re something of a hero to the children of Blackside.”
“That’s mad.” Sev chuckled.
“Do you really think so? I’m not so sure.” Midnight shrugged and continued to study his guest.
“What d’ye want from me?”
“I understand you’re something of a shadow. The people who speak of you, and believe me, you’re almost as much of a mystery as I am, but the ones who do, tell me you can slip in and out of places completely unnoticed. Like a whisper.”
Sev considered the man’s words, proud but cautious. “And what if I am?”
“Then I would tell you of a task I need accomplished by someone of your unique qualifications.”
“I’m listenin’.” Sev leveled his gaze on the crime boss. Midnight smiled with a feline satisfaction and raised his drink in salute.
M IDNIGHT ushered Sev into a smaller, simpler parlor. The criminal moved to a sideboard stocked with various bottles of a variety of colored liquids. He chose another bottle of wine and refreshed their drinks. “I have a very special job for you, Mr. Seven.” Midnight motioned to a chair, and Sev sat. Midnight took the seat across from his guest and leaned back, crossing his legs. He sipped his wine but said nothing. Sev held his goblet but didn’t drink, only waited for Midnight to speak. “You are a puzzle to me, Seven. That’s unusual.”
“My apologies, Mr. Midnight.”
“No,” Jack answered, smirking and waving off the apology. “It’s delightful. A novelty.” He sipped his wine once more as Sev placed his untouched goblet on the table next to his chair.
“Ye didn’t call me here t’drink wine,” Sev observed.
“I did not,” Midnight agreed. “As I said, I have need of your special skills.”
“Go on.”
“Are you familiar with Sir Barrymore Fairgate?” Sev nodded. Fairgate had been knighted during the Crimean War. He was a self-professed wizard and one of his spells, along with Wrathsbury’s Patented Clockwork Gear Suits—the predecessors of the current Steam-Powered versions—had turned the tides. Fairgate had been the queen’s favorite at court ever since. The wizard had helped her through Albert’s death, and they’d recently announced their engagement. “I have reason to believe he’s adversely influencing our queen.”
“And?” Sev snorted.
Midnight jumped from his seat, suddenly furious. “And?” he roared. “Are you happy with the state of society? Do you think this bisection of our city is acceptable? Do you have any idea how much more difficult it is to ply my trade in Fairside with that damn Line to cross?”
“I don’t know,” Sev answered honestly. “But I’m sure ye find ways around the Line.”
“Of course,” Midnight answered, his feline smile returning. “Though it remains more trouble than it’s worth. Not to mention, magic is cheating. I’ve met Fairgate. He doesn’t deserve the queen’s favor.”
“Are ye jealous?” Sev asked before he could stop himself.
Midnight tossed his goblet into the fire, shattering the glass, the wine sizzling. “I’ve worked me arse off t’get where I am, Seven! It in’t jealously! It’s justice!” Sev noted the low-class accent surface with his host’s agitation. He must have been among the criminal element for a very long time. Midnight took a deep breath and composed himself, his more refined accent returning. Sev wondered which accent revealed the true Jack Midnight. “At any rate, the wizard is a poxy bastard.”
“I still don’t understand,” Sev admitted. “Who cares? If the queen is stupid enough to fall for it, why do you care?”
Midnight smirked. “Call me a hopeless romantic,” he answered. “I don’t think it’s right. He’s using her and, through her, us.”
“How do ye know?”
“Honestly? I don’t. I only have suspicions.” Midnight paced the parlor.
“That’s what the orphans call you.” Midnight turned, his opal eyes sparkling. “You’re something of a hero to the children of Blackside.”
“That’s mad.” Sev chuckled.
“Do you really think so? I’m not so sure.” Midnight shrugged and continued to study his guest.
“What d’ye want from me?”
“I understand you’re something of a shadow. The people who speak of you, and believe me, you’re almost as much of a mystery as I am, but the ones who do, tell me you can slip in and out of places completely unnoticed. Like a whisper.”
Sev considered the man’s words, proud but cautious. “And what if I am?”
“Then I would tell you of a task I need accomplished by someone of your unique qualifications.”
“I’m listenin’.” Sev leveled his gaze on the crime boss. Midnight smiled with a feline satisfaction and raised his drink in salute.
M IDNIGHT ushered Sev into a smaller, simpler parlor. The criminal moved to a sideboard stocked with various bottles of a variety of colored liquids. He chose another bottle of wine and refreshed their drinks. “I have a very special job for you, Mr. Seven.” Midnight motioned to a chair, and Sev sat. Midnight took the seat across from his guest and leaned back, crossing his legs. He sipped his wine but said nothing. Sev held his goblet but didn’t drink, only waited for Midnight to speak. “You are a puzzle to me, Seven. That’s unusual.”
“My apologies, Mr. Midnight.”
“No,” Jack answered, smirking and waving off the apology. “It’s delightful. A novelty.” He sipped his wine once more as Sev placed his untouched goblet on the table next to his chair.
“Ye didn’t call me here t’drink wine,” Sev observed.
“I did not,” Midnight agreed. “As I said, I have need of your special skills.”
“Go on.”
“Are you familiar with Sir Barrymore Fairgate?” Sev nodded. Fairgate had been knighted during the Crimean War. He was a self-professed wizard and one of his spells, along with Wrathsbury’s Patented Clockwork Gear Suits—the predecessors of the current Steam-Powered versions—had turned the tides. Fairgate had been the queen’s favorite at court ever since. The wizard had helped her through Albert’s death, and they’d recently announced their engagement. “I have reason to believe he’s adversely influencing our queen.”
“And?” Sev snorted.
Midnight jumped from his seat, suddenly furious. “And?” he roared. “Are you happy with the state of society? Do you think this bisection of our city is acceptable? Do you have any idea how much more difficult it is to ply my trade in Fairside with that damn Line to cross?”
“I don’t know,” Sev answered honestly. “But I’m sure ye find ways around the Line.”
“Of course,” Midnight answered, his feline smile returning. “Though it remains more trouble than it’s worth. Not to mention, magic is cheating. I’ve met Fairgate. He doesn’t deserve the queen’s favor.”
“Are ye jealous?” Sev asked before he could stop himself.
Midnight tossed his goblet into the fire, shattering the glass, the wine sizzling. “I’ve worked me arse off t’get where I am, Seven! It in’t jealously! It’s justice!” Sev noted the low-class accent surface with his host’s agitation. He must have been among the criminal element for a very long time. Midnight took a deep breath and composed himself, his more refined accent returning. Sev wondered which accent revealed the true Jack Midnight. “At any rate, the wizard is a poxy bastard.”
“I still don’t understand,” Sev admitted. “Who cares? If the queen is stupid enough to fall for it, why do you care?”
Midnight smirked. “Call me a hopeless romantic,” he answered. “I don’t think it’s right. He’s using her and, through her, us.”
“How do ye know?”
“Honestly? I don’t. I only have suspicions.” Midnight paced the parlor.
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