"Barking spiders!"

Deryn Sharp yelped as the dulled edge of Count Volger's saber narrowly missed her abdomen. Her feet shuffled backwards until the edge of a table banged against her lower back.

"Always keep your sword up!" The wild count said, stepping off for another attack.

She had started fencing lessons after her first mission for the Society, and after almost half a year, Count Volger finally allowed her to cross swords. She still didn't like practicing it one bit, but fencing kept her muscles working and she always hated staying still anyways.

Deryn raised the tip of her practice foil just as Volger slashed at her again, the foil's blade ringing with the impact. The force of the hit travelled up her arm, loosening her grip on the sword's handle just enough for the man to twist his arm and aim a hit to her abdomen.

Her arm moved on its own accord, twisting at the elbow and blocking her front. The sharp metallic clang of swords colliding drove all the air out of her lungs in one breath. Deryn sucked a gulp of air before pushing off the weight of Count Volger and straightening.

"Now would be an ideal time to go for the offensive, Miss Sharp." Volger raised his saber in defense and looked down at her with apparent distaste.

Deryn flinched at his words, but kept the tip of her foil from wobbling. She shifted her back foot for a better launch and bent her knee. She sucked in a breath before launching herself forward, releasing it as her sword clanged against something.

"Good. Now riposte."

Deryn twisted her grip and thrust forward. Sweat was breaking out on her skin, running into her eyes and making her hands slippery. She tightened her grip and blinked sweat from her eyes.

"Parry, Deryn. Then lunge,"

Fencing lessons with Volger always went on in this fashion. The man barked orders at her for three straight hours, not stopping for breath or even sweating, for that matter. Deryn almost felt sorry for Alek, who had endured the same treatment for more than three years.

By the time the lesson ended, her muscles screamed and her clothes were soaked in sweat underneath her stuffy fencing armour.

"Blisters," The girl mumbled and collapsed onto a padded armchair. She peeked an eye open and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Practice had started at around late afternoon, after Deryn finished walking Tazza and going through Dr Barlow's papers. It was past six now, and dinner started at seven.

Dr Barlow left for an important meeting that morning, bringing Alek and Bovril along because a lift needed fixing, and the society didn't have time to hire a Clanker engineer to fix it. Deryn knew she should get to the kitchen and start with dinner, but every muscle in her body protested when she tried to sit up.

Just a squick of sleep won't hurt. Deryn thought and closed her eyes. Sleep was just starting to numb her mind when she remembered who was with her.

"Dr Barlow should be back soon. I would not want to be the one caught sleeping on the job." Count Volger said, gathering the swords and discarded fencing armour and leaving the room.

Deryn glared in his direction and murmured, "Bum rag," before dragging herself to the kitchen. With slow and deliberate movements, the girl set to work on dinner. Cooking was one of the very few feminine tasks Deryn was good at, what with all the food she went through in a day.

She was setting the table when the front door clicked open, permitting a thoughtful Dr Barlow with an oil-smeared Alek in tow. Bovril was on the boy's shoulder, merrily chuckling to itself in a handful of languages.

"Good evening, ma'am. How was the meeting?" Deryn usually avoided asking questions like this, because most of the time the subject of meetings at the Society was mostly about the London Zoo; and no one wanted a full report on that. But the meetings always ended by noon, and the last that happened, she'd been sent on a mission for the Society.

The lady boffin was silent for a moment, her hand brushing over the front of her coat before saying, "Quite unsettling. But it would be beneficial for both of you to hear about it in my office." Then she turned and walked away, leading the way to her office.

"Unsettling," Bovril repeated.

"Aye, beastie, unsettling indeed" Deryn said, letting the Loris scamper onto her shoulder.

"It has been looking for you all morning, Deryn. I had to keep it in my jacket because it took to yelling profanities all afternoon." Alek smiled, green eyes glittering.

Deryn smiled back. Since joining the Society, Alek had slowly transitioned from the scared orphan he'd been when he first boarded the Leviathan to an average boy of sixteen. Well, as average as being a former prince of Austria-Hungary and working as a special agent for the Society could get.

When they reached her office, the lady boffin was already at her desk, a large portrait of Charles Darwin hanging on the wall behind her. She gestured for Deryn to sit on the chair opposite hers.

"I would ask you to sit down, Aleksandar, but oil unfortunately does not wash out of fabricated cotton as well as I would like."

Alek nodded, standing awkwardly beside Deryn.

Bovril, meanwhile, was busy chatting with Dr Barlow's Loris, the two perched high up the shelf of books in the office. Tazza walked up to them, whining until Deryn patted the thylacine's head.

"Quiet down, beastie" Deryn murmured, looking up.

"You were going to tell us about your meeting, ma'am?" Alek asked in his posh Clanker accent.

Dr Barlow looked up then, shaking her head a little. "Yes. Well, the Admiralty contacted the Society this morning, and they sent this letter."

She pulled a folded paper from her jacket and handed it to Deryn.

As she unfolded it, Deryn could feel Alek leaning over her. The handwriting was spindly and blots of ink adorned its edges.

"That is only a copy, of course. The original is still within the Society's walls for safe keeping."

The lady boffin's words were lost to Deryn as she read. She gripped the edges of the letter until her knuckles turned white. Blisters.

The Germans were planning an all-out massacre.

The letter called it 'Operation Ludendorff.' A spy hidden within Germany for the past year reported a new project the Kaiser was pouring tons of gold into. The letter described it as a special sort of gun hell-bent on destroying a whole barking city. It was not unlike Mr Tesla's idea to use Goliath on Berlin, only this time there was no daft Austrian prince to save everyone.

But the letter ended there, with the writer hurriedly asking for assistance from the Admiralty.

"Are the Germans going mad?" Alek exclaimed, finally breaking the tense silence.