NEW VICTORIA

The usual drizzle that blanketed New Victoria had turned into a full-blown storm. Lightning flashed, thunder echoed, and Monti McGuiness pulled out what looked like a pocket watch. With the click of a button, the lid snapped open. He spun a small dial attached to the face, and a metal bar sprouted from his backpack, unfolding an umbrella over his head.

“That’s better,” Monti said. He removed his goggles and wiped them with a handkerchief.

“I don’t suppose you have another one of those, do you?” Harley asked.

“Sorry.”

“I should have remembered to bring an umbrella.”

Monti looked up at the clock tower. “It’s too late tonight, but maybe we can rig one of these up for you next week.”

With cobblestone streets enveloped by fog and a skyline filled with smoke billowing from chimneys, New Victoria could have been the backdrop of a Sherlock Holmes story. It was on an island in the middle of Lake Avalon, but few from the town of Avalon knew it existed. The strange city was caught between the world the people of Avalon knew and the Shadowlands, a land of wild magic ruled by an overlord named Oberon and his bride, Titania. Because of that, New Victoria was invisible except to those who had access to the right portals.

“By the way,” Harley said, “how’s everything going with those clockworks back at your workshop? Have you been able to rebuild them yet?”

“I’m afraid not,” Monti said between coughs. “I knew Von Strife was a genius, but they’re more complex than I’d imagined. He was a century ahead of his time, maybe more. I mean, I’ve been working around the clock, and I haven’t got a single machine to fire up yet.”

“That’s probably why you’re getting sick,” Harley said. “People need to sleep.”

Monti shrugged. “That and the weather, but I don’t have much choice. I’m shorthanded, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

“I could come by after school to help out.”

Monti stroked his chin. “You know what?” he finally said. “As long as your mom is okay with it, that might work out.”

“Really?”

“We’ll have to find a way around the liability issues. It won’t go over well in the press if you lose a hand in one of the machines.”

Harley shrugged. “You could always build me a new one. You know, with interchangeable parts. There could be a grappling hook… a claw… maybe even a grenade launcher.”

“You’re starting to sound like Doc Trimble,” Monti said, referring to the school physician, who had a prosthetic arm.

“Did you hear that?” Harley asked as they passed the graveyard behind the Cathedral of St. Peter.

Monti shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“There it is again,” Harley said. He stopped to look through the tall iron fence, which was topped with barbs.

Monti cocked his head to the side. Then his eyes opened wide. “Moaning?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t think it’s… forget it.”

“Zombies?”

“Impossible. Right?”

A loud gong sounded, and Monti jumped. The church bells were announcing that it was six o’clock. The sun was long gone, and a thick cluster of clouds was blotting out the moon. The only source of light in the entire city was the meager gas lamps that lined the streets, and that wasn’t much.

Then they heard the echo of footfalls. A man in a long coat, a scarf, and a top hat crossed their path. His brow was furrowed and his nose was sharp. Monti looked over his shoulder to make sure the stranger didn’t double back. When he turned around, he could see another figure standing not half a block away.

“Who’s that?” Monti asked.

“I can’t tell.”

The figure started walking toward them. At first he was nothing more than a silhouette against the grey sky, but soon enough Harley could see that he was dressed in an overcoat and a driving cap. He was small, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. There were plenty of urbanized goblins living in New Victoria, and they could be wicked.

“Stop right there,” Monti said. He flicked his wrist. A spring-loaded mechanism inside his sleeve released a small plasma pistol into his hand.

“Take it easy,” the stranger said. He held his arms wide to show that he wasn’t holding a weapon. As the stranger walked beneath the light of a gas lamp, Harley narrowed his eyes as his lip curled back into a snarl.

“What’s wrong?” Monti asked when he saw Harley’s reaction.

“That’s Aidan Thorne,” Harley said through his clenched jaws.

“Wait,” Monti said. “You mean the changeling who took Robert?”

“We call him Smoke, but yeah,” Harley said. Smoke took off the cap to reveal blond hair that was twisted into spikes, and he had a pair of aviator goggles pulled over his blue eyes.

His changeling ability allowed Smoke to teleport anywhere in the world if he’d been there before, or if the spot was in his line of sight. Smoke had been a student at Iron Bridge, but he’d turned on the Templar and helped Otto Von Strife abduct Robert Hernandez. No one had seen him since Robert’s death. Until now.

“Did you miss me?” Smoke asked.

“Not especially,” Harley said. “What do you want?”

“I came to deliver a message to Agent Thunderbolt.”

“As you can see, he’s not here.”

“Yeah, I heard he’s hanging out with the other changelings.” Smoke turned his attention to Monti, who was still holding the plasma gun. A cloud of vapors swirled around Smoke, and he disappeared, emerging on the sidewalk with his hand wrapped around Monti’s wrist. “I’ll take that,” he said before he vanished again. A moment later he was back where he had been.

“I don’t need a plasma gun to take you out,” Harley said.

“That’s probably true,” Smoke said. “Of course you’d have to catch me first, and even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to hold on.”

Something moaned inside the cemetery. It was closer than before. Then more voices joined the strange choir.

Smoke smiled. He popped in front of Harley with a large envelope in his hand. “You’re sure that you won’t give this to Ernie?”

“What’s wrong? Doesn’t Von Strife pay you enough to cover the postage?” Harley asked.

“I really think the two of us could have been friends,” Smoke said.

“I doubt it,” Harley said.

Smoke looked down at the envelope and then at Harley. “Tell Ernie that I’m looking for him… and that I have something I think he’d be interested in.”

“Ernie wasn’t your biggest fan to begin with, and now that Robert’s dead because of you, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to want to talk to you.”

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Smoke said.

Harley raised an eyebrow.

“I helped liberate Robert.”

“Tell that to his parents.”

“Maybe you really are as dumb as you look,” Smoke said. The moaning grew louder. Smoke turned to look at the cemetery and smiled again. “Sorry, but I have work to do. See you around, Eisenstein.” Smoke vanished.

“What do you think that was all about?” Monti asked.

“I don’t know,” Harley said. He was squinting, wondering if those silhouettes inside the cemetery were zombies or if his eyes were playing tricks. Then he turned back to Monti. “How would you stop someone who can teleport like that?”

“I’m not sure,” Monti said, scratching his head. “The best you could hope to do is sedate him so he can’t use his power.”

“That’s what I figured.”

A clap of thunder shook the ground before a massive bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. Then hail started to fall, bouncing off the ground and battering the steam-powered cars parked in the street.

“We’d better get out of here,” Monti said. “Besides, the subway will be here any minute.”