Prologue                     

Mars’s whiskers twitched as he stared out of the Dragonfly’s window as the silver airship drew closer. He saw the ship’s harpoons glinting in the sunlight like iron spears, ready for action. He heard the roar of the cannons firing buckshot, like dragon’s breath. He sensed the burning gas as a fire

caught hold, as sharp as acid. Turning to his master, Mars purred, “By all that ticks Mark, it is time for you to jump! Humans before mechanicals!”

Chapter 1

Nudging the backdoor of Octavia Dogood’s Academy for Young Girls, Molly Hartman peered across the playground. No one was in sight and within a few seconds she was running as quick as her legs could carry her towards Crimblin Lane.At the end of the lane, she paused and leant against a tree to catch her breath.Once again she opened the letter and read through the dreadful news. Her father, Mark Hartman, was missing and his airship destroyed. His last words to her had been so strange, ‘Make sure you save time’.Many nights she had lain awake in the dormitory and wondered about what it might mean.

At that moment, she heard a recognizable meow and a familiar face appeared from some bushes, ‘By all the tocks, you’ve taken a ticking long time to get out of that awful place!’ exclaimed Mars, ‘Give me a wind-up will you? I’ve used up a lot of energy escaping from those scoundrels.’ Molly smirked as she wound the key and Mars gave a low purr of delight. His soot fur was somewhat singed from the airship’s crash landing but otherwise he was in fine form.

That afternoon, Robert was surprised to see Molly and Mars standing in Pincher’s Alley at the back of Townsend’s Horologists. ‘Of course, it’s your mother’s decorated clock,’ he said. Molly sorrowfully nodded her head. The clock was something that her mother had treasured. She had put it on a bedside table in Molly’s bedroom. Many nights Molly had lain awake, watching the second hand inch round, as steady as a heart beat. On the clock’s face a painted robin perched on a branch like a crimson flame but the memory of her mother was still heart-wrenching. ‘Sorry,’ muttered Robert, looking down. ‘He’s right,’ yammered Mars, ‘No time to lose. We need to take a steam-wagon back to Bridge Manor and begin the search before some rapscallion gets their clutch on that clock.