A Clockwork Fairytale by Helen Scott Taylor

seconds to realize he was sensing the smell inside his head rather than with his nose. For him to sense it so strongly, it must be attacking someone who held one of his pledge stones. His thoughts jumped to Melba, but she would be safe because Waterberry House was warded against Foul Jinns.
    The most likely target was Maddox. The bluejacket who’d delivered Melba to the baker had threatened the man with a Foul Jinn. Was it possible the sailor had returned for the princess to find her gone?
    All thought of Gregorio left his mind. Turk sprinted to the bunkhouse in the second circle where his pledged boys lived. He needed another set of eyes and fists, and the most able he knew belonged to his head lad. Steptoe was the only other member of the Shining Brotherhood to work as a spy. He had been Turk’s best friend since his first day in the seminary and was pledged to Brother Carlos, Gregorio’s personal secretary.
    Turk ran down the sloping roof of the shop next to the bunkhouse, landed in the yard, and burst through the door. Steptoe sat at the head of a long table filled with boys practicing their letters and numbers. As Turk slid to a halt, Steptoe shot to his feet and all the boys followed suit. “Anyone unaccounted for?” Turk demanded, scanning the eager young faces of his pledges.
    “No, mate,” Steptoe replied with a frown. “We got trouble?”
    “I need your help,” Turk said to his friend.
    Steptoe paused only to kick off his clodhoppers and buckle up the soft suede boots he used for walking the skyways. At the door, Steptoe turned. “Finish your work, lads. Then lock the door and off to bed.” He pointed at a ginger-haired boy. “Scottie’s in charge while I’m gone.” The boy grinned crookedly, then Steptoe slammed the bunkhouse door, and Turk turned his attention back to the skyways.
    He leaped up to the roof next door and sprinted along the most direct route to the third circle. When he reached the final street they needed to leap across, he waited for Steptoe to catch up.
    His friend was a year younger and a few inches shorter than he and not as fleet of foot because he was broad and muscled like a bull. His unruly thatch of brown hair, broken nose, and scab-chewed ear meant he could not pass for a nob like Turk, but his looks were useful. The nobs wrongly assumed his coarse appearance meant he was stupid so they took no notice of him. Plus he had a way with the boys that made him an excellent head lad.
    Turk only wished Gregorio would allow him to confide in Steptoe about the princess, especially now he needed a friend’s advice on how to treat her.
    Steptoe ran up a few moments later, his teeth glinting white in the moonlight as he grinned. “What’s the deal, mate? Got yourself in some bother?”
    “I reckon one of my pledges has been attacked by a Foul Jinn.”
    The grin fell from Steptoe’s face. “Who?”
    “A baker and thief master called Maddox. Heard of him?”
    “Aye.” Steptoe rubbed a hand across his mouth. “You still sensing the Jinn?”
    Turk shook his head. “But we’ll go carefully when we arrive at his shop.”
    “Righty ho, then. Shall I take the back of the place?” Steptoe asked, eyebrows raised.
    Turk nodded. He and Steptoe had never exchanged pledges, but they knew each other so well they almost thought as one. Turk leaped the gap between the buildings and softened his tread across the final few roofs to the bakery. He hugged the shadows behind the chimney and scanned the street below. A few doors down on the opposite side of the lane something moved in the murk, and he caught the unmistakable glint of moonlight on the tarnished buttons of a bluejacket.
    To find Vittorio’s bluejacket spying on the bakery confirmed something dicey was going on with Maddox. He hoped the old man was still alive.
    Turk backtracked a street and dropped to the ground. He approached the bluejacket spy softly, pivoted around on one foot, and felled him with a single kick to the jaw. He