“What’s happening?” I asked.

“The fighting may have started. I’d better check before you go out there, miss.” He pulled the goggles over his eyes, straightened his hat, then opened the door ever so slightly and slid out sideways.

The bookseller took his time wrapping the books in brown paper, whistling tunelessly between his teeth while he wound the package with twine and tied it off neatly. There was more noise outside, with some bursts of gunfire and at least one explosion. “It’s about time,” the bookseller muttered as he handed over my books. “Will there be anything else today, miss?”

“This should cover my reading needs for some time, though that might not be a problem if I’m trapped here.” I attempted a smile. “I suppose if you have to be trapped someplace when a revolution breaks out, a bookstore isn’t a bad place to be.” He didn’t return my smile.

The Mechanic returned a moment later, shutting and locking the door behind him. “There’s fighting over by the square,” he reported.

“Then I should go before the fighting spreads,” I said, unsure if my racing heart was due to panic or excitement.

He shook his head. “No, miss, I won’t have you going out into that.”

I put my hand on my hip. “Then what do you propose I do? I can’t stay here forever.”

He grinned at me. “Don’t you worry about that, miss. There’s a good reason they call us the Rebel Mechanics. We’ve got far more than steam engines up our sleeves.”

In Which I Am Reunited with an Old Acquaintance

IN WHICH I AM REUNITED WITH AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

The bookseller glared at the Mechanic. “You can’t show her that! It’s our biggest secret!”

“Well, unless you plan to adopt her, she has to get out of here somehow, and she can’t go by the streets.”

“You’ll take precautions?” the bookseller asked.

“Do I look like an idiot? Besides, she’s one of us. I’ve seen her before.”

With a deep, groaning sigh, the bookseller took a key out of the cash register drawer. He gestured for us to follow as he led us to the back of the shop. There, he unlocked a door and held it open for us. It led to a steep staircase going down into a basement. The staircase was unlit, so whatever lay at its foot remained a mystery. “Down you go,” the bookseller said.

“After you, miss,” the Mechanic said to me. He took my parcel so I could hold up my skirts with one hand and keep the other hand on the rail. The closer I got to the bottom, the darker it was. The Mechanic came behind me.