Gavin put out a finger to touch the cube on Dr. Clef’s worktable. The cube was the size of a shoebox and made of a frame of thin beams. And it twisted. The edges crossed one another in impossible ways, with the front going behind the back, or the back coming before the front. It made Gavin dizzy. When his hand approached it, his fingers seemed suddenly too far away. He pulled back.

“What does it do?” Gavin asked.

“Turn the crank on the generator and you will see,” Dr. Clef replied. “Or perhaps I should say you will hear.”

Gavin turned the crank. Electricity crackled at the spot where the Impossible Cube was connected to the wire. The cube glowed blue and drifted slowly upward. Gavin thought of his new airship. He hadn’t tested it in open sky yet.

Dr. Clef picked up a tuning fork from a set on the table and tapped it. A clear tone—G, Gavin noted—rang out. Dr. Clef pressed the base of the fork against one side of the cube. The note roared into full volume, but it was more than just an auditory note. It went straight through Gavin’s body, through muscle and bone and into his soul. For a moment he felt as if he had no corporeal self. He had fallen into dust and scattered over the entire universe. Then the note ended, and he was standing in the workroom again. He stopped cranking, and the cube sat inert, though it continued to twist the eye.

“What the hell was that?” he gasped.

“Very interesting,” Dr. Clef observed. “Try this one.” He struck another fork—D-sharp—and before Gavin could stop him, he pressed the base against one side of the cube and cranked the handle himself. A cone of sound blasted from the prongs of the fork and gouged out a section of stone wall. Chunks of rock crashed to the floor.

“I like that one,” Dr. Clef said. “How about this one?”

“Stop it!” Gavin shouted, but Dr. Clef struck an A-flat and pressed it to the cube.

With a pop, the cube vanished. It left behind a severed electrical wire.

“Nicht!” Dr. Clef exclaimed.

The workroom door banged open, and Lieutenant Phipps rushed in with two agents behind her. It was the first time he had seen her since the Ward had captured Edwina several days ago. “What the hell was that?” she demanded. “I think everyone within a mile felt it.”

“Which one?” Gavin said. “The soul sound or the explosion?”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Agent Ennock. Doctor Clef? What happened?”

Dr. Clef’s wide blue eyes were filling with tears. “My cube! He is gone! Months of work, gone!”

“It’s true,” Gavin said. “It vanished. Right after it did that to the wall.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s for the best, then.” She turned to leave, along with the agents. Gavin ran to catch up with her.

“Lieutenant,” he said, “I wanted to ask you—”

“If it’s about your supposedly secret airship, Agent Ennock, you know we encourage our agents to—”

“No.” He shook his head as the other agents withdrew and Dr. Clef continued to sob over his worktable. “Nothing like that. I wanted to ask about the clockwork plague. Edwina claimed to have a cure, and—”

“That’s enough, Agent Ennock.”

“But—”

“Shut it, boy!” she snapped. Then she closed her eyes for a moment with a sigh and put her metal hand on his shoulder, the most human gesture he had ever seen her make. “Listen, Gavin, I know a cure is important to Alice, which makes it important to you. But I’ve interviewed Edwina extensively and have personally gone through all her research. She’s completely mad. There is no cure and never has been. And we can’t afford to start rumors of one. You can imagine how the public would react.”

Gavin nodded, aware of the weight of her hand on him.

“Good. Don’t speak of this with anyone.” She straightened and dropped her hand. “Get Doctor Clef calmed down and help him clean up.”

“I am on holiday, Lieutenant,” Gavin said. “I just came down here to check on Doctor Clef.”

“There’s no such thing as a holiday in the clockworker holding area, Agent Ennock.”

When she was gone, Gavin went back to the table, where Dr. Clef remained dissolved in tears. “Months and months of time,” he sobbed. “Time flowing like water out of a basket made of gravity. The gravity of my life is pulling me into a sinkhole and warping my space until I can’t escape.”

Uh-oh. He was moving into a bad phase. He’d be worthless for several days. He’d certainly be unable to help clean up. Gavin picked up the A-flat tuning fork with a sigh and accidently smacked it against the table. The moment the note rang out, the Impossible Cube reappeared on the table with another pop.

Gavin jumped, and Dr. Clef instantly snapped to himself. “Wonderful! I should have thought of this myself!”

“Where did it come from?” Gavin asked. His heart was pounding.

“Time, I think,” Dr. Clef told him. “The cube is truly unique, you know. Do you remember when Viktor von Rasmussen found a way to bring his parallel selves from other universes into this one?”

“I heard about it,” Gavin said, “but that was before my time at the Ward.”

“He is dead now. But he started me thinking. I built the cube to be absolutely unique. It actually exists in all the other universes, you see, but they are all the same cube. This gives it many strange properties.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Yes. When you give the cube different energies, it changes them. I think that one”—he gestured at the A-flat tuning fork—“has something to do with time. The cube can’t travel through time, you see. The cube can’t travel at all. I think what happened was that the entire universe—all the universes—moved backward and left the cube in the same place. When you struck the fork again, the cube matched itself to the vibration and pulled the universes back to where they should be, but since we are in the universes, it appeared to us that the cube moved, when actually we did.”

“That’s im—That’s not poss—That . . . makes my head hurt.”

Dr. Clef waved a hand. “So, so. This is my masterpiece! A wonderful thing, yes?”

“Yes. I mean, I think so.” Gavin felt off-kilter, and looking at the Impossible Cube didn’t help. “Doctor Clef, you stay here and I’ll be back.”

“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand. “I have more tests.”

Gavin locked the workshop door carefully behind him and dashed down the stone hallway and past the extra-heavy door where Edwina was being kept. Her door had three powerful locks on it, and Gavin didn’t have any of the keys. Only Lieutenant Phipps ever went in, even with food. He also passed the Doomsday Vault with its four guards, and, deciding not to wait for the lift, hurried up the spiral stairs to the office of Susan Phipps.

“I’m going out, ma’am,” he said, poking his head inside, “since I’m still on holiday. But you’ll want to check on Doctor Clef again. He found his cube.”

“Did he?” Phipps got to her feet behind her desk. “And what does it—”

There was a muffled boom. All the lights, including the oil lamps, went out. Shouts went up all over the house. Phipps made an exasperated sound.

“I never liked that thing,” she said, fumbling in the dim moonlight for matches. “I think we’ll have to put it into the Doomsday Vault first thing in the—ouch!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The lamp is still lit. It’s just not giving off any light.”

“I don’t even want to know how that works,” Gavin said. “Do you need me? Alice rented a new house with her bonus, and I’m supposed to help her . . . uh . . .”

“Go, go.” The lights abruptly came back up. More shouts from the halls and rooms. “But I want you on hand in the morning when we put that thing in the vault. An hour before sunrise. You know the ceremony.”

“Ma’am.” He fled before she could change her mind.

“For what?” He couldn’t help smiling.

“For moving furniture. It’s too heavy for me, and Kemp is cranky.”

This row house was small but newer—well built and free of drafts. The living room had a fireplace and the kitchen had a good stove, which meant the place stayed warm. A sofa, chair, divan, and several end tables were scattered about the front room. Click perched on the back of the sofa, and Kemp was in the kitchen with tea things. Little automatons crawled, whirred, and scampered everywhere, like autumn leaves at play.

“I like this place,” Gavin said. “It’s very much you.”

“I suppose I should hire a maid-of-all-work,” Alice said, “but I think it would make Kemp unhappy, and the little ones sometimes get nervous around too many people.” She spread her arms. “It’s freeing to be here, Gavin. I’m renting it with money I earned myself, and that means I can be myself. Whyever do you stay in those tiny rooms at the Ward?”

“Most of my money has gone toward the ship, and my family,” he said. “But I’m glad you found this place. It’s more private.”

“That it is.” She slid her arms around him, and his heart jumped. “No one to interrupt us here.”

“Tea?” Kemp said, entering with the tray. Click chose that moment to leap at one of the flying automatons. It squeaked and shot higher. The clockwork cat missed and crash-landed on one of the tables, which tipped over and spilled him onto the floor. He scrabbled madly at the boards and rushed indignantly out of the room.

“No interruptions?” Gavin grinned.

“Have some tea,” Alice said, plucking a cup from the tray.

“Darling? Can you hear me?”

Gavin jumped. Alice dropped the cup and it shattered on the wood floor. It was Edwina’s voice, and it was coming from Kemp. The automaton stood completely frozen, still holding the tea tray.

“Hello?” Kemp said, speaking as Edwina. “Alice, are you there?”

“Wha-what?” Alice said. “Aunt Edwina?”

“Oh, good. It works. Listen, darling, I don’t have much time, so listen quickly.”

“What’s going on?” Alice demanded. “Where are you? You’re not going to attack another airship, are you?”

“Not to worry, darling. I’m in my cell at the Third Ward. They call it a workroom or a laboratory, but it’s a cell, nonetheless. I’ve been pretending my grip on reality has slipped, but they still give me equipment to play with and I cobbled together this transmitter. Did you talk to the ambassador as I told you?”

“You didn’t tell me to do anything, but yes,” Alice said, recovering herself. “We figured out what you meant.”

“Then you know about the cure and why the Crown wants to suppress it. I realized this would happen, you know, which is why I set everything up the way I did.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gavin asked.

“Mr. Ennock is there? Good! This will make things simpler. Have you joined the Third Ward, Alice?”

“Yes,” Alice said slowly. “I’m in training, but I’m in.”

“Excellent!” Edwina sounded relieved. “I haven’t told you everything yet, so I need you to listen closely now. The clockwork plague is destroying the entire world, and not only by disease. One day, a clockworker will make something powerful enough to wipe out all life on Earth. This plague must end. Now.”

Gavin’s thoughts went to the Impossible Cube, and he glanced at Alice. Her face was white. He reached for her hand, but she shook it off.

“The Ward has my first cure, the one that works on one person at a time. They put it in the Doomsday Vault. They’re still looking for my second cure, the one that spreads.”

“You said it was incubating,” Alice interrupted.

“It is. They can’t find it because I put it in the one place they’d never look.”

“I’ll ask,” Gavin said with a sigh. “Where?”

“Inside me.”

Alice’s expression became incredulous. “Inside you?”

“There are places even the Ward can’t search, darling. Now that I have proper facilities again, I can finish incubating it. In fact, it will be done by morning. That’s where you two come in.”

“I don’t understand,” Gavin said.

“Both cures must be released. That’s why I arranged for the two of you to join the Third Ward. Once I was able to use the Ward’s facilities to finish the cure—”

“You would need someone to break you out,” Alice finished. “No.”

“Darling, you must. The Ward will never let this cure go. You need to break me out of this dungeon, and you need to steal the first cure from the Doomsday Vault.”

“Edwina, you’ve gone mad,” Alice protested.

“No. I’m quite sane, though I may not last much longer once the Ward realizes what I’m doing. It’s damned hard to work with someone watching. They think I’m growing blue roses. I’m actually quite close, come to that.”

“Do you mean all this talk about making me independent was nothing more than a ruse to get me into the Ward so I could eventually break you out of it?” Alice cried indignantly. “I’m not a chess piece on a board, Edwina! I’m not a dog to jump when you say so.”

“And anyway,” Gavin put in, “security is very tight. We couldn’t get you out, let alone break into the Doomsday Vault.”

“I was afraid you might react this way, darling.” Edwina’s voice was tight. “That’s the real reason I brought Gavin into your life and maneuvered you into falling in love.”

Alice gasped, and Gavin’s blood went cold. “What do you mean?” he said quietly.

“When I had Gavin asleep in my tower,” Edwina continued, “I injected him with the clockwork plague.”

Gavin’s knees buckled. The room rocked, and he went to the floor with his head between his knees. There had been a bandage around his upper arm when he woke up in the tower of the Red Velvet Lady. At the time, he had been mystified by it. Now he knew what it was for, and he wished he hadn’t. His gorge rose, and he threw up on the floorboards between his ankles.

“You’re bluffing,” Alice said desperately. “It’s a lie. He’d be dead by now if it were true.”

“No, darling. It was my own recipe, the slowed version, but he does have it. At least he’s not contagious yet.”

“No,” Alice whispered.

“There’s good news. You can cure him long before he becomes one of those unfortunates who lurch through alleyways. Just get me out of the Third Ward and break into the Doomsday Vault. And you’d better hurry.”

The lights in Kemp’s eyes flickered out, then came back on. He turned his head left, then right. “Oh! Oh dear! Did I switch off? Sir! Do you require assistance?”

Gavin stared at the stinking puddle of vomit. The revelation crushed him to the floor, and his back ached anew. A small sore on the back of his hand caught his eye. Was it a plague sore? In a few weeks, he would join the souls shambling through the shadows, hoping someone would throw him an apple.

“I won’t let this happen again, Gavin.” Alice was kneeling beside him with her arms around his shoulders. Several of her little automatons perched on her shoulders. “I won’t. We’ll find a way into the Vault, and we’ll get Aunt Edwina out so we can cure you. I don’t care how impossible it is.”

Gavin brought his head up. “I know how to do it.”

A number of feelings battled inside her—fury at Aunt Edwina for doing this to Gavin and to her, guilt over her role in the entire affair, fear of what was going to happen next, and through it all, a growing and powerful love for Gavin. When he was nearby, she felt his presence, and when he was gone, she felt his absence. When he laughed, she was happy, and when he was upset, she wanted to tear London in two. And right now, she felt ready to destroy the world for him.

“Doctor Clef is the key,” he said. “He finished his Impossible Cube earlier today, and Lieutenant Phipps said it has to go into the Doomsday Vault.”

“So they’ll have to open it,” Alice breathed.

“Yes. There’s a little ceremony surrounding any invention that goes in. An hour before sunrise, all the clockworkers are locked in their rooms, and the available agents stand honor guard in two lines—like this—while Lieutenant Phipps marches between them. She takes the invention to the Doomsday Vault, which is here. The guards open it, and she puts it inside. Then everyone has a breakfast of kippers and eggs and beer, including the clockworker who invented the device. If he’s gone completely insane, he sits at the table in a straitjacket.”

“So we somehow sneak in when the Vault opens and hide inside until they all leave?”

Gavin shook his head. “No. The Vault would close on us and we’d be trapped. There’s only one way to do it.” He put his pencil down and exhaled, long and slow. “Alice, if we go through with this, it’ll be a crime against the British Crown. I’ll be branded an American spy, and you’ll be a traitor. Are you willing?”

And she hesitated. He was right. She tried to set aside thoughts of Gavin and to think of the situation clearly, as would an automaton. This plan went beyond merely breaking a few societal rules. This plan was outright treason. The sentence for that was transportation to Australia at best, hanging at worst, and her title wouldn’t protect her. The plan, if it worked, would topple the British Empire and change the course of history for thousands, millions of people. Did she, the daughter of an unimportant, impoverished baron, have the right to make that choice?

Did the Third Ward have the right? They had a vested interest in keeping the status quo. Without clockworkers, the Third Ward had no reason to exist. On the other hand, they were more informed, more aware of the wide world. They knew what was proper.

Alice opened her mouth to answer Gavin just as a brick crashed through the front window and tumbled across the floor. Both Alice and Gavin started, then rushed to the broken frame to peer outside. Norbert Williamson swayed on the sidewalk, just visible in the yellow lamplight. He held a bottle. On the street stood his mechanical carriage.

“You thought you could hide from me, you bloody bitch?” Norbert yelled. “You owe me a child and a title!”

A pang went through Alice’s stomach. “Oh God.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Gavin said with clenched teeth.

“No.” Alice laid a hand on his arm. “I will.” And before he could protest, she was out the door.

“There you are, you whore,” Norbert growled. He gulped from the bottle. “Did you enjoy fucking him?”

“Not nearly as much as you enjoyed watching your friends use those machines, you may be sure,” Alice replied primly.

Norbert didn’t seem to notice the dig. “You’re coming home with me. I’ll teach you manners and lock you up long enough to make sure the boy didn’t pollute you with his spawn.”

A crowd was gathering. People opened windows and peered out doors. Alice became aware of every pair of eyes, every judgmental look, every knowing nod. The carriage stood in front of her. It would be so easy to bow her head and climb into it, ride smoothly away from all these unfair, world-shaking decisions, these choices she had never asked to make. All she had ever wanted was a quiet life with a quiet husband.

But that was a lie, too, wasn’t it? It was a lie she told herself. She’d been telling herself she wanted these traditional things . . . and why? Because it was her fault the clockwork plague had torn through her family, killed her mother and brother, crippled her father, and wanting traditional things would set everything aright. Except Father was dead, and now the person she loved carried the plague. The tradition, the lie, would cause Gavin’s death, and the deaths of thousands more.

“No,” Alice whispered.

“What?” Norbert growled.

Alice straightened, standing tall before the neighbors who came to stare. Gavin stood in the doorway. “I said no. I am Alice, Baroness Michaels. I am not going back with you, Norbert Williamson. I love Gavin and always have. Go back home to your factory and your money and your filthy machines. I hope they rip your cock off.”

Norbert flung himself at Alice. Gavin shouted a warning from the front steps, but Alice saw him coming. She stepped aside and gave him a shove that carried him straight into the wall of the house. He smashed into the bricks and staggered backward, dazed and with a bloody nose. Gavin hoisted him by belt and scruff and flung him into the carriage. Alice smacked the emergency switch for home, and the carriage rushed away.

Alice found herself in Gavin’s arms. He tipped her chin back and kissed her, right there on the street in front of the little crowd. His embrace was solid as an oak tree, and the kiss electric as a lightning bolt. She gave herself up to it, and to him.

“I do love you,” he whispered.

“And I love you,” she said.

A smattering of applause broke out, then grew louder. Alice broke away from Gavin. The crowd clapped and cheered. “Great job, love!” someone shouted. “You showed him!” “Wish I had your courage!”

Laughing, she dashed back into the house with Gavin close on her. With the door shut, he kissed her again and pressed his body against hers. She felt his urgent hardness, and her own body responded. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do now,” he whispered.

“We don’t have time,” she replied with regret. “It’s only a few hours until sunrise, and we have to break into the Doomsday Vault.”