Cogheart (The Cogheart Adventures #1): The bestselling, heart-stopping adventure!

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I’m not coming, Lily told her. I don’t feel like it. Anyway, Madame wouldn’t know polite conversation if it bit her on the behind. She threw a sideways glance at Molly, who bowed her head and stifled a wheezing laugh. She? SHE? Lucretia folded her arms across her chest and gave a disdainful laugh. It’s not alive, Lily. Mechs aren’t living." And I you, old friend. John shut the door. With a clatter and hum the pod bay doors opened and in a jolt, the pod was free.

Cogheart - Resources for Teachers Upper KS2 Resource Cogheart - Resources for Teachers

The first in the bestselling Cogheart Adventures series, where mayhem, murder and mystery meet in a gripping Victorian world of fantastical imagination. How dare you! Lucretia grabbed the last of the sheets from Molly, and threw them on the floor. Look what you’ve done, you stupid mech, you’ve dyed them pink! Well, all right then. Lily examined the row of iron bedsteads, thinking. I know, she said, why don’t we use your dyed sheets on the bottom of the beds, then we can use the old white ones as top sheets to hide them? A harpoon slashed across the sky and thudded into Dragonfly’s hull, the point piercing her port side.Working together, it didn’t take them long to change the majority of the beds, and once the blankets were on you could hardly tell the bottom sheets had been dyed the wrong colour. They’d nearly finished, and were making up the last mattress at the top of the dormitory, when a noise made them both whirl round. I don’t see why not, Lily replied. Come on. She unfolded a pink sheet and pulled the covers off the nearest bed. Molly watched her for a moment, then stood to help.

The Cogheart Adventures Series by Peter Bunzl - Goodreads

Lily sighed. It was exhausting dealing with such idiots. Don’t be ridiculous, she told them. Of course they have feelings. They’re no different to you or me. Alice’s long nails raked at Lily’s scalp, scratching her ears. There was nothing for it, she would have to retaliate. She swung her balled fist at Alice’s face.

Listen, you pair of simpering, fat-headed dolts, she said, if you ever speak to Molly that way again I’ll…I’ll… Go then, mech, Lucretia spat. Run along, before you’re thrown on the scrap heap. She smiled triumphantly at Alice. John smiled. Secrets. Tell her to keep them safe. She mustn’t tell anyone about them, not ever. Can you remember that? And no thinking either. The Kraken folded her arms across her chest. She’d turned a most putrid shade of puce; it perfectly matched her purple dress. Perhaps it was her tight corsets that made her face flush so?

Peter Bunzl (Author of Cogheart) - Goodreads Peter Bunzl (Author of Cogheart) - Goodreads

Lily stopped beside her bed and pulled her penny dreadfuls from the drawer of her side table; she was about to push them under her mattress when she heard a faint muffled sobbing. Lily bit her lip and thought better of her reply. Alice broke into a horsey smile. See, you snotty little runt? You won’t do anything – and that’s the truth. Just because you’re a mech-lover you think you can boss us around. Well, you can’t. Now, apologize immediately and we’ll forget the whole thing. Ouch! Gemma staggered forward, clutching at Alice to try and keep her balance, but in vain; her four copies of The Ladies’ Manual of Politeness slipped from her head. Stop, the Kraken yelled and one by one the girls stopped in a neat line behind her. All except Lily who, having failed to notice her untied shoelaces, tripped, stepped on Gemma’s foot, and fell.Lily's life is in mortal peril. Her father is missing and now silver-eyed men stalk her through the shadows. What could they want from her? The silver airship shrunk away, but within seconds she’d swung around to follow. She began closing in once more; her propellers chopping through the clouds, throwing dark shadows across their stern. When the two airships broke into a patch of blue, she fired. Why don’t you pay attention, you galumphing lump? the Kraken shouted. What’ve you got to say for yourself? Miss Gemma Ruddle was next. She had four precarious copies of The Ladies’ Manual of Politeness balanced and would stop after each step and pretend to scratch her ear so she could adjust her leaning tower of literature. The Kraken was somewhat obsessed with posture. As for Lily, she barely gave it a second thought. In her opinion it was better to read books than balance them. That’s what they were designed for, after all. And if you wanted to wear something on your head there was a perfectly good item designed for that too: it was called a hat.

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Lily balled her fists. Why don’t you leave her alone? she said, stepping forward to shield Molly from the two girls. Molly raised her head and snuffled away an oily tear. Sorry, Miss. I didn’t hear you come in. I should probably go. Lily’s father had chosen to send her to the school after she’d frustrated a number of governesses. His main criterion: it was out of the way and no one there would ask questions about her. He’d even given her a false surname: Grantham – a combination of G for Grace (from her mother), and Hartman – their real surname. He never explained why, or what he was trying to hide her from, but since the time of Mama’s death he’d become preoccupied with keeping Lily’s whereabouts a secret, even moving them from London to deep in the countryside. Lily suspected he was just a natural born worrier, though he still insisted she have the life of a normal well-bred Victorian young lady. Finally, Lily could take it no more – there was not causing trouble, and then there was standing up for what was right. Because mechanicals deserved to be treated like anyone else.

The Kraken weighed the magazine in her hand. No, she said. I don’t. Besides, this sort of bunkum is not approved of by the academy. It has no educational value. Creakily, Molly rubbed her head. She bent down and gathered her dropped sheets and stepped to the servants’ door. Please, Misses, don’t fight on my account. I am sorry, but I must go, I’ve work to do. Lily had her pencil poised to mark up the gruesomest passages of the magazine, so she could reread them later at her leisure. Another dubious volume, balanced on the crown of her head, wobbled with each step, but she didn’t let it distract her from Varney. Rumour had it the bodies of the worst offending former residents were buried in that bunker, and when the coal ran dry their white bones would be revealed, poking from the dust.