The Osiris Curse Read Online Free

turning around to look behind him.
    Then he set off again, the footprints appearing even faster as he picked up speed.
    â€œCome on, Songbird!” Tweed shouted. “He's getting away!”
    The automaton picked up speed, stumbled slightly, then smoothed out its stride. Tweed grinned as he felt the cold wind sting his cheeks. The distortion in the air grew closer as the robber slowed beside each road and alley that branched off from his planned escape route. Then he darted down a narrow path between two tenement buildings. Sparks burst from the stonework as the automaton's shoulders scraped the walls.
    Octavia followed after, moving her construct slightly to the side so it wouldn't be slowed by the walls. They were gaining ground now, only about five paces behind. Tweed raised himself to a standing position, trying his best to keep his balance. He had a plan in mind that involved him leaping suavely across the narrowing gap, landing athletically on the fleeing automaton and doing something incredibly clever to render the invisibility device useless.
    Octavia, on the other hand, had her own ideas.
    She put on an extra burst of speed, and as the two constructs exited the narrow lane she lashed out with the automaton's fist, smashing it into the back of the fleeing robber with a resounding clang. Tweed grabbed on tight as the jolt vibrated up through his feet and along his spine. There was a bright flash of light, the smell of something burning, and the automaton appeared suddenly in front of them.
    It was similar to the one Tweed was standing on, except it was covered in flaking red paint instead of blue. As it straightened andturned toward them, Tweed saw that the driver was much larger and much scarier-looking than the one Octavia had shot.
    He actually looked like one of the men who Tweed had seen operating the boxing rigs in Harry's back room. Indeed, Tweed watched with interest, and no small amount of trepidation, as the man fiddled with levers, raising the automaton's arms up into the traditional boxer's stance.
    He jerked a lever forward. The automaton jabbed out with its left hand, crashing it into their construct. Tweed was lifted into the air by the force of the blow. He started to slide down the automaton's back, but grabbed hold of the neck before he fell, draping himself across the construct's back like a particularly useless cloak.
    Octavia clumsily tried to return the blow, but the man brought the right arm up to block her, then jabbed the left fist into their automaton's midsection.
    They slid back in the slush. Tweed was lifted into the air again, then smacked back against the metal. The robber pushed forward, raining blow after blow onto the robot.
    This was hopeless. Any moment now that metal fist was going to hit Tweed, breaking bones he would really rather stayed whole. He finally let go, fell, and landed on his backside in the cold slush. He swore when he saw how muddy his new greatcoat was getting, then swore again, even louder, when Octavia was pushed back another step, the automaton's foot almost crushing his leg.
    He scrambled to his feet and moved around the two constructs. Spectators had gathered by now. It was inevitable. They had moved off the robbers’ escape route, and the road in which they were fighting was a normal well-lit street lined with tenements, shops, and lots of pubs. The constant barrage of clanging metal had brought the curious out to see what was going on.
    Tweed quickly patted down his coat. He had a hundred pocketsin the thing and he was sure he's put his own Tesla gun in one of them. He only hoped it still had a charge. He was terrible at remembering that kind of thing.
    He eventually found it in an inside pocket and yanked it out, pointing it at the automaton. He hesitated. The robber had pinned Octavia's construct against the wall and was pummeling it over and over with its fists. The thick glass that surrounded her protective cage had cracked. It didn't look like it