Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)(37)
*
Leo pried up the floor panels and scowled at the damage done to the brake controls. Heat radiated off the steel wall of the firebox, where the fuel burned, and the pulse hammering fast in his veins only flushed him further. No tools, no time, and he had to jury-rig a way to force the brakes to engage. Sure, fine, but it wouldn’t be enough if they couldn’t also cut the drive power. The muffled roar of coal combustion served as a constant, terrible reminder that the train was gaining speed instead of losing it.
Leo heard the soft whoosh of a portal reopening. “Finally,” he said, without turning away from the brake mechanism. “Where have you been?”
“Get the fire doors open,” Elsa’s voice said behind him.
Leo looked up. Elsa had a large brass canister strapped to her back, a tube snaking over her shoulder attaching it to the long contraption in her arms, which she held two-handed like a rifle. She was wearing thick leather elbow-length gloves and goggles atop her traveling attire. She looked magnificent—every inch the pazzerellona she was.
“What are you waiting for?” she yelled at him. “Open the firebox!”
Leo shot to his feet. The lever that should have controlled the firebox’s small metal doors was broken. He grabbed a detached lever off the floor and jammed it in the crack between the fire doors, prying them apart. Heat blasted out, singeing the fine hairs on the backs of his hands, and he darted aside.
Elsa aimed the contraption into the firebox and sprayed some kind of liquid at the glowing coals. The liquid hissed and boiled, filling the air with a cool, odorless steam. Leo found himself feeling short of breath.
“Crack that window!” Elsa shouted, and as soon as she’d emptied her canister into the firebox, she ran to the opposite side of the cabin to open the other window, too.
Relief washed over Leo, as rejuvenating as the fresh air breezing in through the narrow window frames. “We’re not gaining speed anymore, but we still need the brakes,” he said, turning away from the window to discover Elsa already kneeling beside the opening in the floor, evaluating how far along he’d gotten.
He moved to help her, but she waved him off. “I’ve got this one. See if you can get the passenger car brakes working again.”
Leo felt an unexpected flash of anger at her perfunctory dismissal, but now wasn’t the time to bicker about who was in charge. He made his way back to the passenger cars, checked the pulse of the unconscious porter who was supposed to be operating the brake, and then got down to work. This mechanism wasn’t as badly damaged as the locomotive’s brake system, which should have been a relief.
Instead, a sort of nauseous shame settled in Leo’s gut. The crisis was drawing to a close without him having done much of anything to resolve it.
*
Elsa’s rush of excitement was beginning to drain away, leaving her tired and irritable. The muscles in her shoulder were knotted up from carrying the weight of the nitrogen tank. She was filthy with coal dust and sweat, and wanted more than anything to sink into the cool, clear water of the bathing pool downstream from her village in Veldana. There was no end to the things she’d taken for granted about her home.
It was several minutes more before the train finally ground to a halt and Leo reappeared, sidestepping around the coal car. “Well, that ride was rather more diverting than I’d expected. What was in there, anyway?” he said, gesturing at the now-empty tank.
“Liquid nitrogen.” She sighed. “I’m afraid it’s probably fractured the casing of the firebox, but—”
“Only an alchemist should have thought of that,” Leo interrupted. He ran a hand through his already mussed hair, making it stick out in all directions. “You built a freeze ray. In two minutes, using a fake laboratory you carry around in your pocket.”
She blinked at him, wondering what the problem was. “Essentially, yes.”
“Just because you’re a polymath doesn’t mean you have to be brilliant at everything,” he said crossly. “For heaven’s sake, couldn’t you stick to just two disciplines?”
Men really were unbelievable—he had no logical cause to be annoyed with her. What did he want her to do, pretend to be dumb? “Next crisis, I’ll be sure to invent a creative, lifesaving solution in two minutes while simultaneously stroking your ego so you don’t feel overly threatened by a woman doing your job for you.”
Leo flushed bright red. “I see we’ve come full circle, back around to flinging daggers. Perhaps you could send a calling card ahead, so I know to come to the conversation fully armed?”
A small flower of guilt unfurled in Elsa’s chest, but she kept the feeling hidden. Impassively, she said, “You should know this by now: I always come to the conversation armed.”
The trip back to Pisa was full of stony silences. It bothered Elsa more than she cared to admit. Why should she worry over a petty argument with Leo when she had a pile of repaired books from Montaigne’s library to contend with when she got back? She could finally begin the search for her mother in earnest. The wounded pride of some young man of her acquaintance hardly mattered when held up against a sabotaged train and Jumi’s abduction.
It was just the awkwardness of being stuck in such close quarters with him that made Leo seem like the most important thing in the world. He had a frown line between his brows, and Elsa wanted desperately to ask him about his theories on who had sabotaged the train. Were they connected to Jumi’s abductors? Were they trying to stop her from finding her mother? But it didn’t make sense to try to kill her now, when they’d had ample opportunity in the cottage after the knockout gas put her to sleep.