“I will not leave you alone, my glorious capitán of the hair!” he said stoutly.
I shoved him none-too-gently down the corridor, and took off, deaf to his shouts and demands that he be allowed to save my hair. I scrambled up three flights of stairs to the repair balcony that ran the length of the airship, gasping in horror at the sight. Of the seven envelopes, four were damaged, two collapsed upon themselves, with the other two sagging inward at a fast rate. “Dear God in heaven. Why are they doing this to us?” I asked, clutching the railing as one of the three remaining envelopes suddenly shuddered and began to lose its form.
The ship was going down. I was staring straight into the face of disaster, and there wasn’t anything I could do to save the Tesla.
“Abandon ship!” I bellowed, throwing myself back down the stairs to the floor below. The Tesla had rocked over about thirty degrees onto her side, making it impossible to walk on the exposed upper gangways. I made it down to the main floor, falling down the last half of the flight, just in time to see Jack race past yelling my name.
“Octavia! The ship is—”
“I know. Help me get to the mess. No, it’s all right, I’m not hurt seriously. We must sound the alarm and get everyone off the ship before she lists any more.”
“Matt says the boilers will explode,” he said, half-carrying me down the corridor. “How are we going to get off the ship? Have parachutes been invented yet?”
“Of course they have. Do you think we would conquer the skies without having a method of getting down in the case of an emergency?” We reached the mess just as Dooley and Mr. Ho came barreling down the corridor, yelling at the top of their respective lungs.
“We’re abandoning ship,” I called to them, then jerked down on the emergency cord just inside the doorway.
A loud Klaxon horn sounded, adding to the confusion. “Help me pull up the floor,” I commanded, and kicked back the small rug that covered a panel in the floor.
Jack and I hauled up the panel, bracing ourselves when the ship groaned and leaned even farther over. “Go to the gangway off the forward hold,” I yelled over the sound of the Klaxon and the noise the ship was making as she died. “Jump from there.”
Jack yanked up an armful of canvas bags, shoving one each into the arms of Dooley and Mr. Ho.
“I can stay and help—,” Mr. Ho started to say.
“Go! Get out while you can!” I yelled back, lying on my belly to grab the remainder of the parachutes from their storage locker under the floor.
By the time the rest of the crew appeared, the ship was listing at a forty-degree angle.
“The boilers won’t hold much past forty-five,” I told Jack, helping him buckle on the harness of the parachute. “I don’t suppose you would jump without me?”
He gave me a chastising look. I summoned up a grim smile. “I didn’t think so. I wouldn’t leave you, either. Where’s Mr. Mow—thank God, there you are. You’re injured!”
A blood-drenched Mr. Mowen staggered into the room, Mr. Christian holding grimly on to his arm. “I found him on the gangway above,” Mr. Christian said. “He’d been knocked out.”
“Get into your parachute and jump,” I told him, shoving a parachute bag at him before grabbing up another one. “Mr. Mowen, can you hear me? Do you understand what’s happened? Here, Jack, help me get this on him.”
My fingers were slick with Mr. Mowen’s blood as we frantically buckled the harness straps around him. He said nothing as we did so, his eyes glazed and unfocused.
“Should I wait—?” Mr. Christian said, hesitating at the door.
“Go,” I ordered, shoving him. “We’ll see to Mr. Mowen.”
“Godspeed,” was all he said before sliding his way down the gangway.
“You take one side, and I’ll take the other,” Jack said, shoving his shoulder under Mr. Mowen’s arm. I did likewise, and we started our perilous journey down the gangway. “We’ll never get him down the stairs at this angle without killing ourselves.”
“No. We won’t need to. There’s an exit hatch ahead. It’s small, but we should fit through it.”
“Will he be able to open his chute in this state?” Jack asked as he kicked open the door to one of the storerooms.
“Open the chute?”
“Pull the cord to open it. I don’t know that he’s aware enough of what’s happening to do it in time.”
“There’s no cord, Jack. You simply open the bottom of the sack and the parachute comes out while you fall.”
“Oh, God. That sounds horribly unsafe.”
I shoved aside a crate and grasped the metal crank that would open up the emergency hatch. “I’ve never had cause to use one before, but I understand that they have saved many lives. We’ll put him through first. If you can lift his legs, I’ll ready the parachute, and we can slide him through.”
“You don’t think it would be better for me to hold him?” Jack asked, his face pinched and white.
“That would be disastrous. Your parachute would tangle with his, and you would spiral down to your death. Ready?”
We got Mr. Mowen’s lower body through the opening. He moaned, and feebly moved his arms, but didn’t seem to understand what was happening. “You’ll be all right, I know you will,” I told him before Jack released him. Mr. Mowen slid out of view.
I leaned out, relieved when I caught sight of the black silk twisting, fluttering, and then opening into an umbrella shape.
“You next,” I told Jack.
“Right,” he said, grabbing me about the waist and stuffing me headfirst through the hatch. “Octavia—”
“I know,” I said, kicking my feet as I looked over my shoulder at him. “I’ll see you below.”
My emotions as I was cradled by nothing but the air were tangled together in a mess that was hard to sort. I felt relief when my parachute opened, jerking me upward for a few feet as the canopy caught the air. Even more relief followed when I looked upward and saw Jack, silhouetted against his parachute. From my vantage point below her, I could see just how badly damaged the Tesla was, and wondered that she’d stayed aloft as long as she had. Almost her entire starboard side was in flames now, the envelopes tattered and charred, and as I watched, she gave a hiccuping lurch; then a roar exploded down the length of her.
“The boilers,” I said softly, feeling wetness on my cheeks. Whether it was from tears or moisture in the air I didn’t know, but I felt a profound sadness as my ship, my first and probably only command, died before my eyes.
Beyond her and above, the Aurora sat, her guns now silent, bearing scars of the attacks against her, but I noted that she had suffered little in comparison. Hallie and the others would be safe.
Jack yelled something, his arm jutting out to point behind me. I craned my head to look. The Moghul ship was moving away, but my breath caught in my throat when I counted the aether cannons that bristled out of her. She was small and fast, a ship clearly built for one thing—to destroy. Even as my dazed eyes counted the cannons, she maneuvered a tight turn, gained altitude, and left the scene of the carnage, evidently not wishing to tangle any further with the bigger, and better armed, Aurora.
“Why?” I asked the ship, the wind snatching away my voice. “Why would you do that to us?”
Personal Log of Octavia E. Pye
Wednesday, February 24
Midwatch: Three Bells
“If I was to kiss you right here, what would you do?” I opened my eyes and looked at Jack as he hovered over my left knee. “Probably moan.”
“Would that be a good moan, a ‘he’s kissing his way up my legs and will soon sup at the gates of my own personal paradise, making me squirm and writhe and become a true believer in the power of oral sex’ sort of moan, or a bad moan, a moan that indicates you’re in pain and just want to be left alone to sleep?”
“Unfortunately, it’s a bad moan, although I don’t want you to leave me. And indeed, I don’t have time to sleep.” I made an effort to sit upright
in the rather uncomfortable inn bed, and swung my good leg over the edge. My wounded knee protested at the very thought of moving, but I steeled my nerve, gritted my teeth, and pulled it over the edge, as well.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Jack said, gathering my legs and putting them back on the bed. “If you’re not well enough for me to make you writhe, you’re not well enough to get up.”
“I’m not injured seriously, just a little bruised,” I said, struggling against him for a few seconds before giving up and slumping back against the headboard. “Jack, I have many things to see to. I know you mean well, but you must let me up.”
“I’ll take care of anything you need to do,” he said firmly. “You just rest that knee. You’re lucky you didn’t break your leg the way you landed.”
“I was trying to see in which direction the Moghul ship was going,” I said, allowing him to tuck me in. “I wasn’t watching the ground.”
“I know. Scared at least ten years off my life,” he said, and I noticed for the first time since we’d staggered our way to the small inn outside of Angers that there were deep lines of stress on either side of his mouth. I touched them gently.
“You were wonderful, Jack. I doubt if I could have managed Mr. Mowen on my own. Are you sure he’s—”
“The doctor said he’s concussed, has a couple of broken ribs and a bruised ankle, but he’ll recover.”
“I just wish we knew what happened to Mr. Llama,” I said, fretting the embroidered bedcover. “Has no one seen any sign of him?”
“Not yet, no.”
“I hope he wasn’t seriously injured.”
“I doubt if he was. The others came through all right. Speaking of which, your chief officer is being a big pain in the ass about seeing you. He insists it’s his right or some such bull. I told him you needed rest, but he says he wants to make sure I haven’t done away with you and am trying to hide the fact.”
“He is . . . imaginative,” I said, smiling. “You may let him in.”
“Nope. You’re too tired.”
“Please, Jack. It would make me feel better to see that everyone is safe.”
He hesitated for a moment, then bent and gave me a swift kiss. “You’re going to wrap me around your little finger any time you like, aren’t you?”
“I’m a woman,” I said with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”
It took over an hour to see all of the crew, since Jack would allow them to enter my room only singly. They all looked hale and hearty—a few cuts, bruises, and, in Dooley’s case, burns aside. They were all animated and excited, and wanted to know just what had happened. Noting that I was fast losing strength, Jack told them we would have a group meeting the following morning, and explanations and plans would be made then.
“We can’t stay here overnight,” I told him when he saw out the last of the crew.
“Why not? You said yourself that the Aurora would take two more days to get to England, and that we could make it there by one on a train.”
“I said if I was captain, I would make repairs first, and those would take a day. But we have no guarantee that the Aurora’s captain will do any such thing. He might feel that he’s vulnerable to another attack, and make all haste to get safely to England. We must leave tonight, Jack, if we are to arrive in England in time to intercept the transfer of prisoners from the Aurora to the prison.”
His shoulders slumped as he sat next to me on the bed. “Poor Hallie. She must be scared to death, and God knows what she thinks of me just letting her be carried off like that.”
“I have no doubt she’s frightened—I would be in her situation—but she’s a strong woman. You’ve told me that many times. And although I regret that she is no doubt very worried and scared, we have to focus our energies on rescuing her, not ruing what has happened.”
“And that means letting you walk around on a leg that should be resting,” he said, his shoulders slumping even more.
I leaned into him and rubbed my cheek on his shoulder. “If I told you that it’s feeling better, will you kiss me?”
“I’d kiss you anyway,” he said in a voice that sounded very close to exhaustion.
“Ah, but I didn’t specify where the kiss would land.”
He straightened up at that, a familiar light of interest glowing in his mismatched eyes. “Captain Pye, are you by any chance flirting with me?”
“Yes, Mr. Fletcher, I am. Is it working?”
“As a distraction, you mean? Yes. Although I’m not going to make love to you as you deserve. No,” he said, holding up a hand to interrupt the protest I was about to make. “Don’t beg, it’s not becoming in a captain. You need time to physically recover from the incidents today, and if we are to get to England before morning, I will have to go out and figure a way there.”
I bristled at him. “I never beg!”
He grinned.
“Well, almost never,” I amended, recalling an event just two nights past when I pleaded with him to repeat a particularly effective tongue swirl. I cleared my throat and adopted a placid expression. “The ice you brought for my knee has worked wonders, so I should have no trouble booking our passage.”
He hesitated. “I suppose it will be all right, but only because I have no idea how to go about doing that. Although I would if you wanted me to.”
“I know you would.” I kissed him softly, my lips lingering on his. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all your help and support, Jack. I really would have been lost without you.”
“You are a horrible liar,” he said, pulling me onto his lap. When I stiffened with outrage, he just tickled my ribs. “Don’t get all prissy on me, Tavy. It was actually a compliment.”
“You have a very strange idea about what consists of a compliment,” I grumbled, my breath suddenly hitching in my throat as he began unbuttoning my blouse.
“Mmmhmm,” he murmured, burying his face in my chest.
I clutched his shoulders and gave myself over to the pleasure he provided, but only for a few minutes, sighing when I caught a glimpse of my pocket watch lying on the nightstand. “I’d better get going. Jack, please, you’re to make me embarrass myself when I go out.”
He pulled his head back from where he’d been sucking on my nipple right through my chemise. The flesh pebbled, the skin tightening into hard little knots of desire and pleasure that wanted nothing more than for Jack to pay them a good deal more attention.
“Sorry,” he said, not at all contrite as I buttoned up my blouse. He grinned wickedly at my breasts before I buttoned my jacket.
“What are we going to do with the crew?” he asked as we slipped out of the inn.
“I hate to say it, but we’d probably have more luck of getting to England quickly if there are just two of us. I will try to book them passage with us, but if I can’t, they must simply go later.”
As I suspected, there were limited openings on a train that left Angers an hour after we spoke to a booking agent. “Only three spots left, madame,” the agent told me when I inquired as to the fastest route to England. “The train, she leaves from Angers and arrives at Paris at two of the clock in the morning. The boat train leaves on the half of the hour, and arrives in Calais at the hour of five. If the channel crossing is not delayed due to weather, you will arrive in London by nine of the clock in the morning. Will that suit Madame?”
“Very much so, yes. Two, please.”
“What time is the Aurora due to land?” Jack asked in a quiet voice.
“Four bells,” I said, glancing at the clock. It was just twenty minutes to that time now. “But I’m hoping that the attack slowed her down somewhat. We might just make it there before her, especially if she was forced to make repairs.”
“Mon Dieu! You are from the Aurora?” the ticket man asked, obviously overhearing a word or two from our muted conversation. “That was most terrible, the attack of the Moghuls. It is said that they swept out of the sky like a giant black bird of prey, and tore apa
rt the Aurora and a smaller ship, which crashed near here.”
“We were on the Tesla, the other ship,” I said, glancing at Jack.
“And you are not killed? I hear that no one was saved, and yet here you stand! You are sure you are from that ship and not the Aurora?” he asked somewhat suspiciously.
“I am the captain of the Tesla. I assure you we know which ship we were on,” I said stiffly.
“How did you happen to hear about the attack on the Aurora?” Jack asked as I tucked the tickets away in my bag. “I imagine someone noticed the Tesla falling to the ground, but the Aurora didn’t crash, did it?”
“Mon Dieu, no! But she is here, in Angers, getting the repairs most necessary.”
Jack and I exchanged glances. If the Aurora was on the ground, perhaps now was our chance to extricate Hallie from it. Just as my hopes rose that we could manage that, they were dashed again. “The emperor, he has sent ground troops from Paris to guard her. It is said that the Moghul airship haunts the skies around us, waiting for another chance to destroy her.”
Jack and I both slumped a little at the news. “Do you happen to know when the Aurora is expected to get under way?”
The man gave a Gallic shrug. “Non. But it cannot be long because it is said that the ship holds a present most magnifique for the emperor William to give to his bride, and the wedding, it is tomorrow, yes?”
I managed to keep from grimacing. Jack didn’t even bother to try to hide his disgust. “Some present,” he muttered under his breath.
I squeezed his arm and was about to leave, but the agent suddenly peppered us with a thousand questions about the attack. It took some time to curb his interest, but as we left the train station, we had much to chew over.
“The captain of the Aurora didn’t say anything about us attacking them,” I said to Jack as we settled back in a cab.
“Evidently not. I wonder if the sedatives had some sort of amnesia effect?”
“More likely things were just so confused and desperate after the attack by the Moghuls, they didn’t remember the prick of the needles.”