“Never mind,” she said, nearly running him through with a stab.
What a strange and uncivilized woman, Jonathan thought. “You’re rather cheeky, aren’t you?”
“That’s what my father says. Though you hardly know me well enough to make that determination.” She grunted as their swords met and skidded off one another.
“I don’t know you at all,” Jonathan admitted. “I do know your father has robbed these innocent people, however. So I’m afraid I’ll have to ask that he not… do… what he’s doing right now.”
Caine’s ship was lifting off. A man with a paintbrush was dangling from a rope at the stern, screaming up at the crew about something. Vivian’s next swing came in low, forcing Jonathan to forget about the fleeing ships for the moment.
They began to battle in earnest, and Jonathan soon found Vivian to be more than a match for him. The way she danced, returning his every stroke with one of her own, reminded him more of a ballroom than a battlefield. Theirs was a delicate repartee, around tables and through clusters of overturned chairs. Jonathan couldn’t help but be captivated by her.
“You’re wrong about three things, Captain Thorpe,” Vivian said. “First, my father is a good man. Second, these wedding guests are far from innocent.” She paused, breathing heavily.
“And the third?” he asked.
“The third, Captain Thorpe, is that you shall never take me or any member of my family alive.”
“I’m afraid that’s where you are wrong, my lady. The moment you are disarmed, I will have you clapped in irons and locked in my ship’s brig, woman or no.”
She frowned. “What’s being a woman got to do with it?”
“Nothing at all. Though I will say—” Jonathan retreated a step, then advanced again when Vivian stumbled over a downed folding chair, “—I’ve never met a woman so…”
“Skilled?” she finished.
“I was going to say impertinent.”
Vivian knocked away Jonathan’s next two blows, then stepped forward to drive a shoulder into his chest. He fell backward and landed on the table behind him, tipped it over and slid head first to the ground on the other side, legs flopping over him. “Nor have you ever met a woman so strong, apparently,” she said.
Jonathan could only grunt, wincing at the kink in his neck and the scrunched feeling in his abdomen. He opened his mouth to speak, but the ground began to shake so violently it almost knocked Vivian off her feet. Guests cried out and curled up in little heaps on the ground. There was a piercing report, like thunder racing through the earth. Next Jonathan knew, the grass between him and Vivian was splitting apart, a jagged crack that spread across the field and began to open into a yawning chasm.
Jonathan watched Vivian slide away from him on the shifting ground. Tables and chairs and wedding guests tumbled into the fissure and disappeared from view. Vivian sheathed her sword and called across to him.
“We’ll meet again, Captain Thorpe. Best of luck.” She tipped her hat to him before turning and sprinting toward her ship.
Jonathan picked himself up, careful to make sure he hadn’t broken anything. He was about to summon his crew back to the Maelstrom to give the Caines chase when he noticed something rather peculiar. The patch of earth on the far side of the chasm appeared to be rising. Startled wedding guests dug their fingers into the grass and held on for their lives as the rough oval of land beneath them began to lift them off the ground.
What in the heavens is happening? Jonathan wondered. He caught a glimpse of Vivian swinging onto the deck of her airship and giving her crew a boisterous command. She was a wild one, to be sure; free-spirited and crafty as ever. Had she not been the daughter of the world’s most dastardly pirate, Jonathan would’ve sworn he was in love.
Screams filled the air as the floating land mass carried the wedding guests ever higher. That was when Jonathan knew he couldn’t go after the Caines, though desperate was his desire to do so. There were citizens who needed saving, and the safety of the people always came first. And so the pirates fled while Jonathan and his crew remained, using the Maelstrom to rescue the guests from their flying prison and return them to safer ground.
When he finally collapsed into his bunk late that night, Jonathan couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking of Vivian, and of the bizarre phenomenon that had sent an ordinary parcel of land floating into the sky. The next morning, Jonathan would learn that the earthquake in Finustria had not been an isolated occurrence.
Chapter 2
The Caine family congregated in their sprawling mansion hideaway, deep in the sweltering jungles of Azkatla. Gertrude had commissioned an extravagant feast to celebrate another successful caper. When the wine glasses began to ring, she stood, smoothed her skirts, and cleared her throat.
“Isn’t it simply wonderful to be together?” she began. “We really don’t do this often enough anymore. You don’t know how dreadfully your father and I miss you when we’re apart.”
Lily reached up to squeeze her mother’s hand.
Junior broke the tenderness of the moment by prancing into the room, decked out in the Archduchess’s crown jewels, earrings and all. The family burst into laughter and applause. Junior took his seat with a smug grin—and without removing a single accessory.
“My precious babies,” Gertrude continued, teary-eyed. “You all mean the world to me, and your father and I are so proud of each and every one of you.”
“Except you, June Bug.” Benedict put a teasing hand on his son’s shoulder and gave him a shake. The girls laughed.
“They’re proud of me most of all,” Misty said. “Right, Mummy?”
Junior looked at her. “You mean you least of all.”
Misty batted the pearl tiara off Junior’s head and sent it sailing to the hardwood floor.
Junior’s expression passed from surprise to anger. He shoved her. “You stupid brat.”
Misty upended his wine glass, spilling summer red across the tablecloth and Junior’s lap. “Dad doesn’t like you the best. He likes me the best.”
“Now, children,” Gertrude tried.
The argument escalated, layered voices rising to a crescendo.
“Enough,” Benedict boomed. “Listen to your mother. And one of you had better pick up that crown this instant, or Daddy is going to be very unhappy.”
Misty scowled. Junior dabbed at his lap with a napkin.
In the end, it was Lily who slid from her chair and retrieved the crown for her father. “Why isn’t Uncle Poleax here?” she asked.
Caine turned the crown over in his hands. Every pearl was intact, thank the heavens. “Poleax isn’t your uncle, Lily-Billy. He’s Daddy’s second cousin. That makes him your second cousin, once removed.”
“Yes, but Second-Cousin-Once-Removed Poleax doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?” Misty said.
“That’s plenty out of you, young lady,” said Gertrude.
“I’m not quite finished, Mummy. Did you see how Vivian was swooning over young Captain Thorpe? I think she wants a bit of the old slap-and-tickle from that fellow.”
Vivian frowned. “Do not.”
“Alright, that’s the end of it,” Benedict said. “Go to your room.”
“Who, me?” Vivian asked, mouth agape.
“Not you, Viv. Misty… you heard me. Daddy’s going to be very cross if you don’t do as he says.”
“But I’m hungry,” Misty complained.
“I won’t say it again.”
Misty mimicked him under her breath as she stomped off.
Caine collapsed into his chair with a sigh. “By all the gods in the heavens… can this family spend one hour together without us all trying to strangle one another?”
“I’ve got to go change my pants,” Junior said, stalking off, pearl earrings still dangling.
“I’m off to find Mr. Mittens,” said Lily, slipping out of her seat.
Vivian found herself sitting alone with her parents, who looked at each other and then at her, but said noth
ing. Father cleared his throat. Mother took a sip of wine.
“So, that Captain Thorpe is rather a nuisance. Wouldn’t you agree?” Vivian finally said. “I think he’s dreadfully dull.” In truth, she’d found him somewhat intriguing, if a bit too straight-laced for her liking. A sky marshal was no sort of man for her to be thinking about, regardless of how handsome he may or may not have been…
Vivian’s parents exchanged another look.
“You taught him a lesson, I trust?” said Benedict.
“Yes, Dad. Only… a strange thing happened before we set sail.”
“What’s that, sweet peach?”
“There was… an earthquake. The ground split open. And then… I dare say, it started to fly.”
Benedict’s eyebrows went crooked. “The ground?”
“Believe me, it was every bit as strange as it sounds.”
Caine rubbed his mustache. “I’ll have Parsons look into it first thing in the morning. In the meantime, I want you to take the crown jewels to Gil Hill and see what you can get for them.”
“Yes, Father.”
***
Later that night, Benedict was nursing a cigar on the veranda outside the bedroom. He had just begun to doze off when Gertrude found him.
“You look sleepy, darling.”
Caine twitched awake, dropping the cigar into the folds of fabric over his belly, where he spent several seconds fumbling for it. “Sweet giblets.”
Gertrude sat in the slatted lounger beside him. “Language, dear.”
“I do believe I nearly burned myself down,” he said, tossing the cigar into the decorative green ashtray Junior had sculpted for him when the boy was nine.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It isn’t my fault you’ve got the hearing of a garden snail.”
“What are we going to do about these children of ours, Gertrude? They’re unruly. Churlish.”
She looked at him. “They’re exactly the way we raised them.”
“Bollocks. You’re right,” Benedict said, folding his arms. “Who could’ve imagined it? They’re all perfect scoundrels. The world appears to be coming apart at the seams, and so is the family we’ve created together. Oh, Gertrude…”
“The world may be coming apart, Benedict, but this family is not,” Gertrude said. She softened. “So the children are squabbling. Let them express their differences. It’s healthy for them.”
“I’m not talking about that little tiff before dinner. I’m talking about this new infatuation of Vivian’s.”
Gertrude giggled. “Oh, Ben. It’s hardly an infatuation. She is getting to be that age, you know.”
Benedict frowned. “What age? I know of no such age in all the world.”
“She’s growing up, dear.”
“Nonsense. I won’t allow it.”
Gertrude smiled. “You’re a capable man, my darling. But you’re not capable of stopping a girl from becoming a woman.”
Benedict grunted his displeasure. “Bah. Poppycock.”
“Language, dear.”
***
Vivian found her brother beside the swimming pool, hands folded behind his head, gazing up into the night sky.
“The cosmos are a baffling, wonderful mystery,” Junior said. “Don’t you think?”
Vivian hadn’t given the cosmos more than a moment’s consideration in all her life. “Not really,” she said.
“Oh, ye of small mind,” said Junior, less concerned with her level of interest than with sounding intelligent. “I assure you, you are mistaken. For instance, did you know shooting stars are actually airships that flew too close to the sun and caught fire?”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Let me guess… Father told you that.”
“No,” Junior said defensively. “Why would you assume that?”
“Because whenever you think something’s true, and it isn’t, it’s always something Father told you.”
“Well… so what if it is? Who are you to say it isn’t true?”
“You shouldn’t believe everything Father tells you, you know. As a matter of fact, you shouldn’t believe most of it. These ‘little-known facts’ of his are seldom facts. More often, they’re fabrications.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Father lie to me?”
“Well… because he’s a pirate, for one. Also, he isn’t awfully fond of you.”
“Rubbish. I’m Father’s favorite. He’s told me so. On several occasions.”
Vivian laughed. “I seem to remember an occasion very recently when he said as much to me. Now I think of it, I do believe he used those precise words. ‘Viv,’ he told me. ‘Among all my children, you are my absolute favorite.’”
Junior looked surprised, then angry. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was, June Bug. I wish he’d stop paying me so much attention and furnish more of his overbearances on the rest of you.”
“How can we both be his favorite?”
She sighed. “Oh, Junior. Don’t you see? We are all his favorite.”
“I don’t like that,” Junior said with a frown.
“I didn’t expect you would. It’s about time you got a taste of the real world, little brother. By the way, I don’t suppose you’d mind giving me the crown jewels. Father has asked me to dispose of them.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” Junior removed the earrings, necklace, bracelet, and rings, and handed them to her.
***
Second-Cousin-Once-Removed Poleax Longworth was like a glass vase—stout in shape, fragile in build, and shiny in complexion. He turned the doorknob counter-clockwise five times, touching his forehead between each turn, then opened it to let Lily Caine into his bedroom. She stood beside his dresser, hands folded, and took in her surroundings while Poleax closed the door. His room was organized like a rainbow color chart, everything from books to clothing arranged by letter, size and hue.
“I wanted to make sure your feelings weren’t hurt that Father didn’t invite you to dinner,” Lily told him.
“Invite me? For heaven’s sake, child. I wouldn’t have attended that dinner in a suit of armor.”
“Why ever not? Father’s given you your own airship… your own room in our house… he even let you sort the moveable type for his printing press after Misty knocked the table over. He knows how you like sorting things. Attending family functions seems only polite.”
“The Hummingbird is a fine vessel,” Poleax agreed, running a hand over a thinning head of oily yet meticulously combed hair. “And I was honored to sort your father’s letters.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You’re all stark raving mad, is the problem.”
“Don’t you like living here? Don’t you enjoy working with us and Father?”
Poleax hesitated. “I’m very fond of you, Lily. You’re a good friend. And your parents have always been kind to me. But I otherwise prefer the Caines in small doses. Your younger sister Misty is… how shall I say this? She is terrifying. And then there’s your brother, who’s frightening in his own way. Vivian would be a chum, I suppose, if not for all the spitfire and bravado.”
“Viv always was the tomboy of the litter,” Lily said.
Poleax winced when she sat on the edge of the neatly made bed. He sat beside her, knees at right angles to the floor, and retrieved something green and lumpy from a pocket. “Would you care for a cheese? I’ve been saving it.”
Too polite to refuse him, Lily took it. “Thank you.” It squished between her fingers. It didn’t look like any sort of cheese she had ever seen, though it did smell somewhat of feet.
“Aren’t you going to eat it?”
“I’m still full from dinner,” she lied.
“Quite right. So… where will old Ben have us gallivanting off to next, I wonder?”
“Nowhere for a while, I hope.” She turned toward him. “I’ve something to tell you, Poleax. Something important. It’s a secret I’ve been carrying with me for far too long.”
?
??What is it, Lily?”
“I have decided… that I don’t want to be a pirate anymore.”
Poleax furrowed his brow. “Did I hear you correctly?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Do you know what your father would say?”
“Why do you think I haven’t told him? Oh, Poleax… whatever shall I do?”
“Seems to me there is only one thing to do about a problem like this.”
Chapter 3
Aboard the Maelstrom, Jonathan Thorpe was having a small crisis. This particular crisis was named Admiral Finnegan Farrelly, III.
Farrelly’s voice crackled over the bluewave in the airship’s radio room. “You did what?”
Jonathan gulped. “I lost the Crown Jewels of Finustria, sir.”
“No, no, no. Before that.”
“Uh… I chased down the Caine family?”
“That’s the one. Captain Thorpe, you are out of line. I’m going to warn you just this once: do not tangle with the Caine family. I’ll warn you a second time. Do. Not. Do it. Am I understood?”
“Sir, if we hadn’t been there, civilians may have died by the scores.”
“Then it’s a good thing you weren’t there.”
Jonathan was confused. “I beg your pardon, sir?”
“If word of this gets out, every pirate in the bloody world is going to think we mean them stopped.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, sir, but… don’t we?”
“No of course not. There’s nothing more dangerous than a gang of pirates, is there? No surer way to get oneself shanked. Do you want them all thinking they can get away with murder?”
“Absolutely not, sir.”
“Then for heaven’s sake, leave them be. There’s nothing more buoyant to a pirate’s morale than giving us a good punch in the berries. Keep your berries in your trousers, Captain Thorpe. That’s the way things work round here. Best get used to it. Cheerio.”
“But sir—”
The Admiral hung up.
“Tough break, Cap’n,” said Vin Harlow, the radioman.
“How’s that for a pisser?” Dean Manchester agreed. Jonathan’s first mate was a solid man, tall and bald-headed—the latter by choice. Manchester was older than Jonathan by ten years, and had wanted the Maelstrom’s captaincy more than anything—before the young graduate had been offered it instead. Of course, Manchester had thought better than to mention this fact to Jonathan.
“It is, Manchester,” Jonathan sighed.
“If I may speak frankly, Cap’n,” Harlow said.