The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One by V. Timlin (speed reading book .TXT) 📕

who was checking his revolver. Was it his influence? That he somehow made her exceed herself? To do things she hadn’t thought of, even in her wildest dreams? Maybe. One thing was sure though: it was wonderful to have him back. She felt… safer with him. She opened her mouth to say as much.

Nat lifted his gaze. “Ready, partner?”

Anouk hesitated, but then smiled. “Yeah, let’s go snooping.”

“Snooping?”

“It means sneaking and prying.”

“Hmm, I like that word.” Nat patted her shoulder. “Aye, let’s go snooping.”

Chapter 13

The narrow streets of The Pits were by midmorning full of life with an endless stream of people coming and going. Some were minding their own business, some chatting with neighbours while others were hurrying to do whatever they needed to do to make ends meet. An old drunk sat in his own filth, leaning against a wall bellowing out songs and grabbing for the women who ventured too close. A woman balanced a basket full of freshly laundered and neatly folded linen on her hip. Dirty children in ragged clothes scurried past her, chasing each other, and almost knocked her over.

“Oi, you bloody brats. Look where you’re going,” she yelled and took a better grip on the basket. The children darted down the street without so much as a glance back at her. She sniffed and resumed walking.

Dodging people, vehicles and shaggy stray dogs, Anouk and Nat navigated a packed lane. The district was as dreary and dirty as she remembered from her last visit. The vile stench was also the same, but to her own surprise, she no longer found it overwhelming.

Nat circumvented two strays, snarling and baring their teeth to each other. As soon as they had gone past, a fight broke out between the angry beasts. Anouk jumped at the fierce barks and yelps. Glancing over her shoulder, she spied a half-rotten carcass lying on the street. The corpse was worm-riddled and slimy, but it was a meal, and the animals were fighting over it. Anouk shuddered in disgust. The fight ended as abruptly as it had started when a horse-drawn wagon rattled down the street, threatening to crush everyone who didn’t give way fast enough.

Anouk and Nat pressed themselves against the wall as it passed. The driver sat on his bench, keeping his gaze over the horse’s head, ignoring any traffic not on wheels. The horse and the size of the vehicle were a sufficient deterrent to clear the lane ahead.

“Jeez, those shouldn’t be driving along this narrow and busy street,” Anouk complained. “Someone might get trampled.”

Nat shrugged. “Most streets in Rondon are like this. Only in the city centre and in the wealthier areas are they wider.”

“It’s hazardous.”

“What can you do?” Nat replied. “Goods have to be delivered and businesses run.”

“Yeah, I guess…” She chewed her lower lip while she pondered. She had lived her whole life in a modernised society and she could see what the next steps—for good or bad—were likely to be in a society that was living at the height of an industrial revolution. Nat, on the other hand, wouldn’t understand any of that yet.

A steam-powered carriage squeezed into the lane—Rondon City Taxi. It chugged towards them, a plume of black smoke rising from the exhaust. Children ran beside it, their faces gleaming with excitement. Adults also turned their heads, following the slow progress of the vehicle. The looks on their faces varied between disapproval, envy and reluctant admiration. The trip to the constabulary with the discomfort Anouk had felt while travelling on one came to mind.

“How…” Anouk started to ask when the taxi turned from the next intersection and the curtain of its window shifted open, revealing a silhouette of a passenger. She froze. The man’s profile looked familiar. Stalo? The man turned his head and junked the curtain over the window. The taxi sped off, vanishing out of sight.

She took a shaky breath. He had looked nothing like Stalo. The man had been bald and plump, not dark and lean. She really was starting to be taut as a bowstring.

“You were asking something?” Nat asked.

Anouk forced a smile on her face. She wasn’t going to tell Nat she was seeing Stalo in every man now. He might change his mind about their partnership if she did. “Only how volatile are the engines in those? Have there been any accidents where the steam engine exploded? Does your government document accidents?”

Through a wry smile, Nat said, “You have strange interests. Do you want to visit the government’s traffic department to place some enquiries? I’m sure Vari or Fitzwil would be happy to take you there.”

“No, no, just making conversation. I’ll stick with the plan and go with you to visit Rose Tarandus.”

Nat chuckled. “Good. For a moment I thought you were keen on taking on a different project.”

“And let you continue alone? Fat chance.”

“Your concern is touching.”

“Of course. You’re my ticket back,” Anouk replied with a grin.

“You hurt my feelings.” Nat twisted his face into a mournful expression.

For some reason, a sad puppy look on Nat’s face was more adorable and less annoying than on Owen’s. But most of all, it was less manipulative. And, it lowered her anxiety over Stalo an iota. She winked. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

Nat heaved a dramatic sigh that would have put Madam Valeria’s to shame. “Ungratefulness knows no boundaries.”

Anouk chuckled. What would she do without Nat? Go mad probably.

They turned the corner and came to Rose’s home street. They walked past Dr Arnar’s clinic. A rusty hasp and staple were fastened on the door with four bent nails and a small flimsy padlock hung through.

“Looks like Arnar has left in a hurry,” Anouk said. “He hasn’t even had time to repair his door. That lock won’t keep anyone out; a child could kick that door in.”

Nat glanced at the building. “Aye.”

“Obviously Stalo’s offer wasn’t lucrative enough. Why do you think he wanted Arnar to join him?”

Nat leaned close to her ear. “Better not say his