Clockwork Boys (Clocktaur War, #1)

by T. Kingfisher

“In fairness,” said the prisoner, holding up a finger, “it was three nuns and five novices. And I was possessed at the time.”

“Would you like to go on a suicide mission?” she asked instead. He smiled. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen all day. “I would be honored,” he said.

The way he’d looked down the hallway after them, face schooled to immobility, had reminded her more of a dog lost and wondering where its home had gone. Let’s not get sappy. Your puppy made chew toys out of ten people.

I am too old for this. Thirty is much too old to be rousting around prisons any more. If I weren’t going to die, I’d think seriously about retiring.

“We won’t live through it.” “No, I shouldn’t expect we will.” “Even getting to Anuket City right now is a fool’s errand.” “Good thing we’re fools, huh?”

“Come on,” said Slate irritably. “Our inevitable deaths aren’t going to happen by themselves.”

“My god, Caliban, you look like hell.” Slate glanced up, and saw the Captain staring at the former knight with an expression less of horror than chagrin. Hmm, they really do know each other. I suppose there’s no reason a Captain of the Guard wouldn’t know a famous temple knight. Maybe they worked together doing…knight…stuff… “I’ve been possessed, arrested, exorcised, and locked in a cell for four months. There’s a dead demon rotting somewhere in the back of my soul. What do you expect?”

I don’t think I like this man very much. I don’t think he’s half so dumb as he pretends to be, either.

We. She and I are a we. When did that happen?

He’s got a heart of gold…cold, metallic, and made of money.

“Have you ever considered giving up killing people and becoming a tailor?” “Oh, yes.” “And?” “I don’t like people unless I’m stabbing them.”

“I’m sleeping in here.” “What?” “The other room’s the same size as this one. We couldn’t fit two people on the floor unless we stacked them. The stables are full, Brenner’s threatening to put a dagger in the eye of anyone who tries to get him off the bed—and I believe him—and Learned Edmund is apparently afraid that if he sleeps on your floor, your feminine exhalations will cause his genitals to wither and his bowels to turn to water. That’s a direct quote, by the way.”

“You better not snore,” she grumbled into the dark. “I don’t snore.” “Good.” “I gibber in demonic tongues.” “You’re kidding.” “No.” “Shit.”

“I don’t know why we even bother having wars,” muttered Slate. “The world’s trying to kill us fast enough as it is.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” said Caliban, and bowed to the old woman with exaggerated deference. “Ha! Come find me sometime, pretty paladin. I’m not dead yet.” “I fear that you would be too much for me, madam,” he said,

“It’s okay, darlin’…” he whispered into her hair, “I’ve got you.”

“Oh, come on, if your friends aren’t willing to strangle you, what kind of friends are they?” asked Brenner.

Slate was in command, but Caliban had always known that if she floundered, he could step in and lead. And if I had, just then, I would have killed us all. Worse, even as he’d been silently judging the forger and the assassin for being what they were, it was Slate who had been willing to sacrifice herself to save the rest of them. Slate who’d been begging the assassin to keep her from giving them away to the enemy. All the platitudes he’d mouthed over the years about self-sacrifice, and here he was being shown up by a forger who’d been arrested for treason.

I am a fool. Still. Pride. It always came back to pride. By now you think I’d have learned.

“Because three can keep a secret if two of them are dead!” she snapped.

“Do you ever feel like you’re the only sober person in a room full of drunks?” asked Slate in a low voice, leaning forward. “Constantly,”

As any paladin could have told her, the words didn’t matter nearly so much as the voice.

“Caliban?” “Mmm?” “I don’t think I want to die.” He chuckled. Chain clinked under her ear. “That’s good.” “But we’re going to die.” “Let’s try not to.” “Okay, then.”

Learned Edmund looked up, saw her approach, and retreated to a safe distance. It was probably because she was on such a ragged edge, but his alarm was almost soothing. At least here was someone who was afraid of her, and not for her.

She had been growing in his mind for weeks. Her anger and her stubbornness and the way she would grin suddenly when she worked out a problem in her mind. He wanted her to grin like that at him. He wanted to take her in his arms and feel the weight of her breasts in his hands and say things that made her laugh out loud and do things that made her cry out his name.

Dreaming God’s bones. We’re on a suicide mission, we’ve got carnivorous tattoos, we’re supposed to stop monsters that are like nothing I’ve ever seen…and now we’re going to have a fight because we’re both interested in the same woman.

This can basically be the tag line lol

“Where are you going, then?” he asked. She rose to her feet, already moving down the slope to the river. The knot in her stomach had loosened. She knew what she had to do. “To follow the rats, of course.”

“I think I’m losing my mind.” “What, only now?”

Shit, do I have to be in charge again?

“It felt almost liberating. If you know you’re going to die, you don’t have to be afraid of anything. The worst has already happened. What more can they do to you?

“And I nearly died. And I realized I…really didn’t want to. I’m not done with my life yet.” She frowned up at the sky. “Living is always hard,” said Learned Edmund.

Good lord, if he develops a working sense of humor, I’ll start to worry he got possessed again when we weren’t looking.

He drove the point into the earth at her feet and dropped to one knee. “Oh god, no,” said Slate involuntarily. It was Caliban at her feet, but the Knight-Champion looking up at her. “The church cast me out. The city locked me away. And I prayed, when I was in the cell,” he said. “I prayed for weeks. And no one came and I knew the Dreaming God had turned his back on me.” Slate swallowed hard. “But you saved me,” he said. “And I no longer have a church to serve. So I will swear to you, instead.” “You can’t. I mean, you really can’t! Dear god! A paladin swearing to a forger?” “You are my commander,” he said, unruffled, and bowed his head. Slate sank back down onto the wonder-engine’s hip bone, trapped. He spoke a few words only, in a form of the language so old that she’d only read it in books. It seemed she had been wrong about half the pronunciations, too. Am I supposed to say something? Apparently not, because he sheathed his sword and knelt at her feet and said “I am yours to command.” Shit. Shit. Shit.

He knows perfectly well that I don’t know what the hell to do now. Dear god, I think he thinks this is funny.

“I would give my life for yours. Your enemies are my enemies.” “They already were your enemies!” “Well,” he admitted, “that’s true. But I’ll be here if you make any new ones.”

“Wait, you’re not going to go around trying to defend my honor, are you?” “…I am a paladin.” “Yes, ...

“What was that all about?” Brenner grinned down at her. “Just sayin’ thank you, darlin’.” “You could just say it, like normal people.” “Ah, where’s the fun in that?” He wiped his mouth. “And you were right there for it, too. For a moment, anyway.” “Yeah, well…” She glanced away. “Old habits die hard.”

Never date a man prettier than you, it never ends well.”

“If we’re here…” said the dedicate, staring at the map unrolled across his saddlebow. “If we’re here, then we’re not here…” His finger skipped back and forth, trying to reconcile their location. “Which means we could have been anywhere in the Vagrant Hills! Anywhere at all!”