Free Dead Men's Tales (Tales of the Brass Griffin Book 5) by C. B. Ash Page A

skeptically. “Beggin’ yer pardon, eh? Ya seem in some kind of distress. Is there a problem?”
    Dr. Llwellyn glanced over at Tonks, then toyed with the mason jar in his hands nervously. He gave the shopkeeper a worried look, “Yes, after a fashion.” The doctor cleared his throat, looking for all the world as a nervous, overwrought man uncertain of where to begin. “Perhaps … well, perhaps you could help? I truly hate to even ask, but would you happen to have seen a young lady of late? No more than ten years of age?”
    Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “I might’ve. Hard ta say, lots of people come through. Some are young ladies fresh off the ships. Why? Ya know her?”
    “Yes!” Thorias said, tension straining his voice. Behind him, Tonks barely repressed a surprised look at the doctor’s display of passionate, though mildly panicked, enthusiasm.
    Dr. Llwellyn quickly continued, “That is, if one of the young women you’ve met is indeed her … my ward that is … then yes, I would know her. She’s all of ten. Quite precocious, you see. We are traveling on holiday. One moment she was nearby, looking at a shop window. The next, she’s gone! My colleague here has been ever so kind as to help me look, but there’s been no sign. As I said, she’s all of ten, no more than four feet, six inches tall with long brown hair. She would’ve been dressed for the chill of course, and had an automata servitor with her that she adores. It’s built like a monkey.”
    Peter frowned a moment in thought, “A young girl with a monkey?” Then he nodded, as if making up his mind, “I remember a young lady like that just ten minutes ago. It was the servitor that struck me as odd. Ya don’t see a young girl like her running around alone in a place like this, much less with a servitor like that. Conspicuous, you see, especially with the unsavory element that’s here about, eh?”
    “Understandable,” Tonks agreed.
    Peter continued, “I was a bit worried, so when she bought something to eat, I gave her a little extra. I asked if she needed help, but she said no, and rushed out. She looked quite worried. I’ve been hopin’ she’d stop by again, as I was going to offer her a safe place above the shop I’m not usin’.”
    The doctor and the pilot exchanged a hasty glance. Tonks unfolded his arms, leaning on the counter. “Ten minutes? Which way did she run off to?” The pilot asked anxiously.
    Peter gestured to his right, “Out the door and then north. She was gone before I could get her attention. North side’s a rough place, what with the warehouses, gangs and all. She seemed to have some sense about her, which is why I’d hoped she’d come back here, and away from there.”
    Tonks turned to Thorias, “Ten minutes isn’t that long. If we hurry, we might catch sight of her.”
    Dr. Llwellyn reached out and shook the shopkeeper’s hand vigorously, “My friend, you’ve no idea how grateful we are! Thank you, Sirrah!”
    The pilot and the doctor raced out of the shop in a mad dash, leaving a confused and concerned Peter Fitzcarin behind them. As the door to the shop closed, Peter untied his apron, hung it on a nearby wooden peg, then with a frown walked over to lock the front door. Quickly, he rotated the wooden sign on the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ before vanishing into the back of the shop.
    Outside the shop, the doctor and the pilot raced along the cold boardwalk, their boots pounding against the wood. They ran north just as Peter Fitzcarin indicated, towards several looming, dark warehouses set in stark   relief against the approaching silver-gray clouds.
    At first, the pedestrian traffic was concentrated, thick with knots of people hurrying along the boardwalk in the cold mid-day air. However, the farther north Tonks and Thorias ran, the fewer the shops became, which meant fewer pedestrians congesting the boardwalk.
    As they ran past the first of many warehouses, the doctor and pilot’s