As Eleanor Castile reached the door to the study, she paused for a moment. She dropped her long skirt back into place and ran her hands over her hair, trying to mask the fact that she had been running. She calmed her breathing and reached for the door.

Off to the side, she heard someone clear his throat. She glanced over, ready to admonish her little brother, Edmond, that he should be in bed. The young man to the left of the door was not five-year-old Edmond, but rather someone about her own age. Recognition dawned as she realized that the man was the son of the new doctor. Eleanor tried to remember his name, but found herself at a loss. Something beginning with a B, she thought.

She exchanged quick pleasantries, consciously using formal address to skirt her lapse in memory. He followed her lead, and then they looked at each other awkwardly for a few long moments. Finally, Eleanor spoke again. "I must see my father."

Hiram Castile was surrounded by household servants and the doctor, who had been a regular visitor to the Castile household since his arrival in Cobalt City last winter. The servants moved aside as Eleanor approached, but the doctor remained by her father's side, tying a bandage on his left forearm. Eleanor pressed her eyes tightly shut at the sight of the crimson stain that already bloomed on the wrapping there.

Regardless of the cause, a forearm injury was a serious one for her father. While most of the world knew Hiram as simply an upstanding Cobalt City businessman and benefactor to the city, he frequently used the cover of darkness to take on the persona of his alter-ego, the Huntsman. Armed with a bow, he ensured that the streets of Cobalt City were safe for its citizens.

"Eleanor," he said in a thin, quiet voice, much different from his usual confident tone.

"Yes, Father, I'm here. What happened?"

Hiram glanced at the doctor. "Doctor Mathias, will you leave us for a moment?"

"Sir? Your wounds are ... substantial."

"I understand that, Doctor. I need to have a private word with my daughter. She is the lady of the house, after all. She needs to be informed of what is to be done."

Doctor Mathias stiffened, but nodded. "Very well, sir. I shall await her word before I return." He bowed formally, which Eleanor had barely enough presence of mind to acknowledge with a curtsy, and left the room.

Eleanor moved immediately to her father's side, and knelt beside the couch on which he lay. "Father, what happened?"

"Some sort of mechanical creations, fashioned to look like our former presidents. They're guarding a warehouse in Quayside, near the meat packing district. I couldn't get close enough to see much more than that. They're well-armed automatons, Eleanor. Far more resilient than others I've seen. Far too well armed to just be a normal security detail."

"What shall I do, then?"

"Victor is collecting a few samples of what their weapons did to our carriage, and you should take those, along with what I just told you, to your Uncle Louis."

"But Father, Uncle Louis has not had the full training! I have more training than he does!" Eleanor exclaimed.

"Yes, Eleanor. But if God sees fit to take me, and if Louis were to fail in this attempt, that makes you the only remaining Castile able to teach your brother what he needs to know to take up the mantle of the Huntsman."

Eleanor rose from her father's side and turned to stare out the window. "It's because I'm a girl, isn't it?"

Hiram did not answer immediately. Eleanor sighed inwardly, certain that her father would respond with some answer that made it seem that her safety was his primary concern. "Eleanor, you are my only daughter. I cannot send you out to finish what I was not able to do. Louis is prepared for such an eventuality." Hiram's voice broke with a sob. "I could never forgive myself if I lost you."

"If Edmond were 17, you would not hesitate to send him in your stead." She clapped her hand to her mouth as soon as she had spoken, shocked that she had voiced herself so forcefully.

Hiram sighed. "Perhaps you are right, Eleanor. However, that does not change my opinion. Louis will take care of this."

Eleanor composed her face carefully, and sat on the edge of the couch. She leaned forward and smoothed her father's hair. "As you wish, Father. You said the carriage was damaged in the attack?"

"Not severely damaged. Nothing that Victor won't have fixed by morning."

"I can ride to Uncle Louis's house before morning. I will take your equipment with me, and then he can begin work as soon as he arrives in Cobalt City. We'll have this taken care of before the doctor allows you to get out of bed."

"That's my girl," Hiram said, patting his daughter's arm gently. A grimace of pain slid across his face, and Eleanor rose.

"Doctor Mathias? My father needs you now." The door to the study opened immediately, as though the doctor had been waiting directly outside the entire time. Eleanor gave a quick curtsy and hurried into the hallway. The doctor's son was no longer waiting, but he had left a book in the chair he formerly occupied. She picked up the book idly, noting that it was one of the war treatises from her father's library. Her maid stood nearby, and Eleanor handed her the book. "Olivia, I need my riding habit ready in ten minutes and my horse in twenty. It appears I have a job to do."

~

Eleanor padded softly across the warehouse rooftop. In her left hand, she carried her father's bow. With her right hand, she clutched at the edges of her cloak, pulled tight to her body to help muffle the sound of the chain mail shirt she wore. The armor was too large for her, meant to fit her father's broad chest, but was surprisingly lightweight. Her eyes darted amongst the shadows on the rooftop, looking for any sign of movement other than her own. A strong wind rattled empty bottles and cans across the rough tarred surface, and wafted foul odors from the meat packing district and nearby warehouses. Eleanor remained still until the wind died down, trying to breathe through the edge of her hood to minimize the stench.

As she waited, she spotted a door on the rooftop. She moved slowly to the entrance and jiggled the doorknob. Finding it locked, she set to work with a hairpin as her father had taught her. The cylinders clicked into place, and Eleanor opened the door, which spilled a sliver of golden light across the rooftop. Eleanor froze, bowing her head slightly to keep her face obscured by the hood of the cloak, to ensure that her entrance was not noticed. After what seemed like more than a minute, she slipped through the doorway.

 

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