A Steampunk Guide to Hunting Monsters 17 | Page 11

I asked. "It was not mentioned in the guidebook."
"I believe you might fi nd this portion of
calamari a trifl e oversized," he replied.
I glanced pointedly at the shattered ceiling
and smashed dais—not to mention the sucker
marks left upon the mahogany fl oor—and there
was Percy grasping about for his own lost ring!
Oh, my heart broke for him in that moment! But
the whole party was ushered out of the collapsing
room, and I quite lost track of him.
T HURSDAY , A UGUST THE T WENTY -S IXTH
Percy is strangely distant. At breakfast, he did
not mention the proposal, nor did he attempt to
interest me in dusty old tintypes, or indeed, in
anything at all. He directed none of his conversation
toward me, and whenever I discovered his eyes
upon me, he turned them rapidly away.
"Percy," I said, hoping to encourage the man.
"I would be very interested in picking up the
conversation where we left off last night."
"I cannot continue this discussion without that
ring," he said, standing and walking away. Poor
thing must be too embarrassed for words.
In the street near the cafe, I overheard some
libertine tourists speaking together about
removing their wedding rings in order to
seduce women, the cads. Without so much as
a how-do-you-do, the shaking began and the
sea-monster's tentacle returned, knocking the
men into the canal.
As I went to look for the Mayor, I saw tentacles
tossing people about like startled cats, falling
debris, and all sorts of pandemonium. I saw a
British couple having a terrible row about a lost