Free Alistair Grim's Odd Aquaticum by Greg Funaro

his head and climbed into the seat behind us, but Lord Dreary and Mrs. Pinch remained where they stood.
    “Blind me if I ever set foot in that thing!” Mrs. Pinch shouted. “Your heads need oiling, the lot of you!” Lord Dreary nodded in agreement.
    “We should be back by noon!” Father called. “Have the hangar doors open and lunch waiting, will you, Mrs. Pinch? We won’t have time to dillydally!”
    And with that, Father threw the demon buggy into gear.
    In one moment we were rolling toward the opening in the wall, and in the next the sky was all around us—the cold wind whipping at my hair as we plummeted toward an endless blanket of sun-frosted clouds.
    My heart leaped into my throat. The demon buggy wasn’t flying, it was falling—and falling fast!
    I screamed and grabbed hold of my seat.
    “Not to worry!” Father shouted. He pressed some buttons on the buggy’s instrument panel, but still we continued to drop like a stone. Finally, Father pushed and pulled a collection of levers that stuck up between our seats. Gears clanked and dampers flapped, and then the demon buggy leveled off and began soaring upward into the air.
    “It works, sir!” Nigel cried out behind me, and I gazed past him to find a massive plume of black and blue smoke billowing out of the buggy’s exhaust. The demon inside the conductor sphere was spinning madly, its eyes and black-fanged mouth just a blur of orange amidst its whirling black dust. Father tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to a bright red button on the instrument panel.
    “This knob releases itching powder into the conductor sphere!” he shouted. “Just one pull will keep that demon back there churning out dust for hours!”
    I nodded, speechless, and Father plunged the buggy into the clouds. A thick gray fog enveloped us at once as beads of water rippled across my goggles and chilled my cheeks. I could barely see the buggy’s controls in front of me. It seemed as if our descent would go on forever—when finally we emerged from the clouds high above the countryside. Rolling patches of farmland dotted the landscape in every direction, and in the misty distance I could see a large, rambling town of majestic stone buildings.
    Father flew straight for it, descending quickly and landing the demon buggy on one of the outlying country roads. He flicked some switches and pulled some levers, and soon we were rolling along, kicking up dust and drawing strange looks from people we passed.
    “Aren’t you afraid we’ll be spotted, sir?” Nigel asked. “After that scene in London, lots of people will be looking for us, not to mention Prince Nightshade.”
    “The town you see before you is Cambridge, home to the esteemed university of the same name and some of the most brilliant minds in the world. Residents in these parts are used to seeing mechanical wonders, and will undoubtedly think our demon buggy just another one of those steam-powered carriages that have become so popular of late.”
    “If you say so, sir.”
    “Nevertheless, your point is well taken, Nigel.” Father pulled a yellow knob on his instrument panel and a metal canopy folded down over the rear conductor sphere, shielding the entire contraption from view. “We’ll find a place to hide the buggy too. Hope you don’t mind standing guard over it until Grubb and I return.”
    “Right-o, sir,” Nigel said, and upon reaching the outskirts of town, Father parked the demon buggy behind a large clump of trees. He gave some final instructions to Nigel, and then Father and I set off across a bridge toward the town on the opposite side of the river.
    “Begging your pardon, sir,” I said, “but may I ask where we’re going?”
    “To visit someone who, quite literally, holds the key to my plan.”
    My heart nearly burst with excitement. “You mean we’re going after some more Odditoria to defeat Prince Nightshade?”
    Father stopped and held me by the shoulders. “You must never say his name in public,