Rebel Mechanics - Shanna Swendson Page 0,3

horses aren’t allowed above Fifty-Ninth on Fifth Avenue. The magisters don’t like the mess in their neighborhoods.” One of his team proceeded to demonstrate exactly what mess he meant, and I averted my eyes. The prohibition on horses in magister neighborhoods explained the clean streets where I’d just been. “Though, if you ask me,” he added more softly, “it’s their way of keepin’ the likes of us out of their part of town.” Back in a louder voice, he said, “There’s an uptown bus on Third Avenue that’ll go to Seventy-Seventh.”

I frowned, puzzled. “But if that bus goes to Seventy-Seventh, why not this one?”

“Only magisters live around the park up there. Farther east, it’s just regular people—that is, until more magisters move uptown and shove them out. You can take a cab.” He gestured as a magically powered carriage passed, looking rather naked without any horses pulling it. I knew my budget wouldn’t extend that far. As the bus rattled away, I allowed myself a weary sigh before gathering my strength to walk to Third Avenue to catch the bus there.

“Hey, miss!” a voice behind me said, and I turned cautiously. A newsboy stood nearby, a stack of papers at his feet and several held so he could display the headlines to passersby. The banner at the top declared it to be the World, a newspaper with which I was unfamiliar. He wore a flat cap pulled low over his forehead. Dark hair straggled past his collar in the back, and his thin face was smeared with ink and dirt.

He gave me a cheeky wink as he raised the papers he held and shouted to a passing man, “Parliament renews the colonial tax act! Straight off the ether from London! How will it really affect us? You won’t read the truth anywhere else!” The man tossed him a coin, which he deftly caught while handing over a copy of the paper. The customer folded the paper and tucked it inside the breast of his coat as he walked away. When the customer was gone, the boy said, “You’re tryin’ to get up to magpie land by the park?”

I assumed that “magpie” was his slang term for the magisters. “Yes, I am.”

“What would you wanna do that for?”

“I have an interview for a position as governess.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You want to work for the magpies?”

“I want to work for someone who will hire me.” I couldn’t help but allow my discouragement to creep into my voice. “Now I suppose I had better start walking or I’ll be late for my interview.”

“Don’t go just yet.” He glanced around, then gestured for me to come closer. “You can get a ride from here if you wait. Some friends of mine’ll be along any minute now.” He flicked a small gear wheel with a red ribbon tied through it that was pinned to his oversize coat and waggled his eyebrows like he was conveying some hidden meaning. I wasn’t sure what the significance of the gear was, but I nodded as though I understood. “Ah, I had you figured for one of us,” he said with a grin. He stuck out a hand blackened with newspaper ink. “The name’s Nat.”

I shook his hand, grateful that I’d worn black gloves instead of white. “And I’m Verity.”

A shrill whistle rent the air, and Nat gave a satisfied nod. “Here they come, right on time. Wait’ll you see this, Verity.”

With a screech and a shudder, an enormous metal contraption lumbered to a stop beside us. A horizontal cylinder on huge spoked wheels belched smoke from a chimney on top, and steam billowed from vents on the sides. Two men rode on the machine, one steering while the other monitored a series of gauges. An omnibus like the horse-drawn one was hitched to this monstrosity.

Nat rushed forward and called out to the man studying the gauges. “Hey, Alec! I’ve got a friend here who needs a lift to magpie land. You can take her, can’t you? You’re goin’ that way, anyhow.”

I couldn’t see Alec’s reaction because a large pair of brass goggles obscured most of his face and his attention was focused on his device. “We might not be stopping when we’re there,” he said as he worked.

A head in a bowler hat emerged from the doorway of the bus. “Did you say this charming young lady needs a ride?” The speaker swept the hat off his head, revealing a shock of bright red hair and