The Spark by H. G. Howell

home.”
    “Understood.”
    It did not take quite as long to pull around to the front of the parliament as it had for Gossimer to make it to the garage. He searched through the whipping snows for the building beyond. Gossimer recognized the shape of Master Lucian standing on the front steps, waiting patiently. Next two him were unfamiliar shapes, that of two women.
    “Elenor,” Gossimer said, realizing he knew the figure of one of the two women; even though he just met her, Elenor’s silhouette was glaringly familiar through the snow.
    Nine brought the auto to a gentle stop, despite the slick road. Lucian made a gesture to the ladies before descending the front stair of the parliement building.
    “Gossimer, lad.” Lucian said on approach. “The Lady Schernoff shall be joining us this afternoon with her confidante, whom I believe you have met.” Lucian indicated to the waiting women. “Schernoff claims to have a plan of some sort that will aid Valvius where the Council will not.”
    “Understood, ser.” Gossimer eagerly glanced over to Elenor who was once again hidden under layers of winter garments.
    “Nine,” Lucian continued. The construct turned its head to face its master. “We shall be taking the long way to the manse. We shall be taking the madam and her confidante to her home in the northeast.”
    “Understood.” Nine said, returning its vision to a forward position.
    “Ser, what about Gerrold?” Gossimer asked as he failed to see Schernoff’s steward.
    “The boy will be taking the madam’s auto back to her manse ahead of us.” Lucian turned on his heel and motioned for the women to approach.
    Gossimer watched Elenor’s body as it wove its way down the stone steps. Even covered as she was, Gossimer couldn’t help but be transfixed with how her body moved with such grace.
    “Gossimer, quit your gaping,” Lucian hissed beneath his breath, “and get down here to open this door.”
    “Sorry, ser.” Gossimer rose from his seat and descended the short step to the snow-covered street below. He took the several steps to come up beside the cabin door. Noticing an unsightly scar in the ebony body of the auto, Gossimer used himself to hide the blemish. As The lady Schernoff approached, Gossimer gave a deep bow and opened the door for the guest. The Di Delgan councilor gave her thanks and clambered into the safety of the cabin. Elenor followed next and said nothing, though her big blue eyes smiled at him from between scarf and chapeau. Lucian was last, stopping short of the entry.
    “What is said in this cabin, Gossimer,” Lucian said. “Must remain in this cabin until the opportune moment. The lives of many Valvian’s could be at stake.”
    “Yessir.” Gossimer said. “My lips are sealed.”
    “Excellent.” Lucian patted Gossimer on the shoulder. “We have much to do and…”
    “Master Lucian!” A woman’s voice hollered through the snow. Both Lucian and Gossimer turned to face the approaching shadow. “Master Lucian, please, wait!”
    “Mary?” Lucian called to the familiar voice. The two men sped towards the specter of the approaching woman.
    “Ser,” she began, deeply winded. In her hand she clutched a piece of paper. “A telegraph came fer ye while ye were in session. I didn’t mean t’ read it, ser, but I did not think it t’ be of importance.” She offered the paper up. Lucian eyed her suspiciously as he grabbed the message from her hand.
    “Del Morte be damned.” Lucian swore. “You did well to bring this to me Mary. Come, join us for the ride back to the manse.”
    “Thankee ser,” Mary said. “I’m terribly sorry.”
    Gossimer took the weakened woman under his arm and lead her to the waiting vehicle. After Mary was safely inside Gossimer turned to his master.
    “Ser, what is it?” He asked.
    “Those bastards.” Lucian spat. “Those no good bastards.”
    “What is it ser?” Gossimer furrowed his brow in confusion. “Another attack?”
    “ Yes, and no.”