Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(62)

“Road agents,” Daniel hissed. “What the devil are bandits like that doing so close to the city?” His head spun about. “There’s not a place to hide anywhere around here. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and heaved me into a sprint.

We dashed alongside the river, speeding over the soft riverbank until we reached the factory’s fence and raced beside it. By the time Daniel slowed, I had to gasp for breath and muffle the noise in my sleeve. I squinted and saw the faint shape of a door.

“New plans,” he said. “I don’t know what those bandits are looking for, but a pretty girl is not the sort of thing to leave out for ’em.” He tossed the empty sacks at me and slid a leather wallet from his pocket. It unfurled to show gleaming metal wires and keys. He chose two pins and shoved the wallet into my hands.

“I also don’t know how long we’ve got before the next guard rounds that corner.” His pins scratched in a lock.

“To pile on the agony,” he continued, “I don’t know how many guards are on the inside, but I think our chances are better in there. Normally, the guards don’t carry firearms ’cause of the explosives. But I know those bandits have pistols or some kind of barking iron.”

The lock clicked, and he exhaled sharply. With aching slowness, he pushed the door inward and peeked inside. Then he reached back and yanked me with him through the fence door.

Before us, a grassy hill sloped gently down to the Schuylkill River. Three long, low structures stood on the bank, a hundred feet between each. Daniel pointed left, and we crept along the fence until we reached a line of covered wagons. We ducked behind the first.

He grabbed the sacks from me. “I’ll break into the warehouse, and you’ll sit here,” he whispered. “First I gotta wait until the guard down there”—he brandished his thumb toward the nearest building—“makes his round. Or...” He trailed off, his mouth parted.

The hoofbeats were loud now. Hooting and laughter rang out. The road agents were almost to the factory fence. Daniel crawled to the edge of the wagon and peered down the hill.

“Perfect. The guards are all leaving their posts.” He pointed, and I followed his finger. Sure enough, four men in scarlet uniforms were jogging to the middle hut. They converged for a few seconds, and then they all hiked up the slope toward the fence. It was then that I noticed an enormous gate in the fence. It was beside the door Daniel and I had just sneaked through, and the guards were headed straight for it.

Daniel scuttled back. “Well that’s a stroke of luck.”

“What?” I strained to see him in the darkness. He was fiddling with his leather wallet, flipping it open and shut, open and shut. The noise of the road agents was outside the fence now, passing by at a slow meander. They were anything but quiet, and it sounded as if there were at least ten of them—maybe more.

“I’d warrant the guards and those agents have a deal going down tonight. This factory is rotten to the core.” Daniel’s teeth gleamed in a shadowy grin. “Now, listen, I’m gonna slip down while everyone’s distracted. You just sit here, all right?”

“But if they’re distracted, I can go with you. Two people can carry more than one.”

He didn’t answer. The heavy creak of enormous hinges snaked through the racket of the bandits. The guards were opening the gate.

“Just stay here.” Daniel lurched out from beneath the wagon, shot a glance up to the gate, and then launched off down the grassy slope.

Blasted boy. I scuttled to the edge of the wagon, hoping to spy on the guards, but my foot kicked something in the dirt.

I knelt and picked up Daniel’s leather wallet. It was the one with all his lock picks. Did he need this? If so, there wasn’t enough time for him to run all the way up the hill and then down again.

Drat, drat, drat, what should I do?

I spared a glance for the guards. I couldn’t see them, but raucous laughter drifted through the air. Meanwhile, Daniel was huddled at the nearest hut’s door. Wouldn’t he have broken in by now if he had the tools he needed?

I sucked in a breath—I had to risk it—and then launched into a run.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

This must be how mice feel when they run from the hawk. The emptiness of the factory grounds and the open gate spurred me on. I had chosen this path, and now all I could do was follow it. Thank heavens the grass was still damp and soft from yesterday’s rain; it soaked up the pounding of my feet.

Though not enough that Daniel didn’t hear me. He whirled around, his fists up, but at the sight of me, he blanched.

“Empress, I told you to stay,” he hissed. His head twisted toward the gate.

“Your tools.” I held up the wallet. “I thought you needed them.”

He snatched it from my hand. “Sake’s alive... I thought I’d dropped that in the field somewhere and the guards would find it.” He gazed at me. “Thanks—though it was still mighty stupid.”

After several long moments of metal scratching on metal, he rolled his heel against the door and it inched open. Then his hand snaked out and he hauled me to him. We wedged through the narrow space of black, and then he eased the door shut.

“I told you to obey my orders,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry.” I strained to see in the total darkness of the hut. “You should be grateful, though.”