Charlotte was waiting for us in the apartments, and after a carefully worded exchange to let her know we were all right, she hurried Patricia off into her rooms to “tend to her”. I could only assume that meant she would be pumping Patricia for information at the very moment that the rest of us were gone.
Chatelain showed me to my own room as well, but when Moses was about to enter after me, the Capitaine stopped him. “No, Monsieur, you will be rooming with me at the end of the hall. That way, the Baron will not feel slighted by an affront to his station.”
Moses’ mustache twitched, and I noticed his hand sliding towards his now-empty holster in pure reflex. “You’re saying I don’t rate the same respect as he does?”
Chatelain sighed dramatically and threw an arm around the surprised Marshall. “Perhaps on the battlefield or in the forests of your American wilderness, but here, inside an embassy? Honor is picked over by diplomats and merchants here, my friend. Here, let me tell you of a time when I challenged some of them to a contest.” Then he led the reluctant Marshall away, already beginning some epic tale of what I could only imagine was a slightly exaggerated drinking contest.
Alone, for the first time in several hours, I entered my quarters and laid back against the door. The cool metal was soothing, but did little to calm the questions at my heart. While I doubt anyone could blame me for being foolish when confronted with one of the Royal Family unannounced, it still did not explain everything. Why had he affected me so, when Louis had not inspired nearly the same amount of confusion? Was the Prince some kind of Changeling that could cause such effects?
There had always been rumors to that effect, though Albert himself had always denied the Change. He had been much more careful in his exposure to the crystal, and though he experimented and tinkered as much as Daniel did, he had apparently always taken the appropriate precautions to avoid the dangers associated with it. In fact, his research into the field had been the source of many manuscripts and theories, some of which helped many Changelings to understand and manage their condition.
He had reason for such pursuits; after all, his wife was one of the most well-known Changelings in Europe. Her change had not been as dramatic as some, but it had been her status as a shade that had set the stage for the New War. Her ability to move about invisibly had led to the newly crowned Emperor of France to accuse her of attempting to kill him, when some similarly-Changed assassin had nearly accomplished the deed in his palace.
Of course, the accusation had been both insulting and deceptive, but the devastating New War that had followed had not resolved the question. While reclusive, the Queen certainly had the willpower and determination to set her mind to such a thing, even if the concept of her disappearing from England to assault a madman in his throne room was ridiculous on the face of things. My father had often scoffed at the idea, though sometimes as he reminisced over the terror of that war, he’d only wished that the Queen had managed to finish the job.
I realized, suddenly, that for all I knew the Queen had been in the corridor as well as her husband. Alarmed, I looked over my uniform again, terrified that I would find some flaw that would have set me apart as an object of contempt. Not finding anything in particular, but still uncertain of myself, I made my way over to a chair and collapsed into it. Sleep took me only moments later.
I awoke some time later to a knock on my door. Disoriented and still half-asleep, I staggered to my feet and made my way to the portal. The light had already faded from the sky, and I stumbled over a chair that had been somewhat rudely left in my way. Despite this grand obstacle, I finally reached the door and opened it.
On the other side of the door, I found Moses waiting. The other man raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down; I realized, to my dismay, that my clothes were inexcusably ruffled due to my nap, and the image was likely not in line with the portrait of a fine gentleman. I cleared my throat to bring his attention back to my face. “May I help you, Marshall Anderson?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He smirked slightly. “I already got the details on the situation from P—I mean, Ms. Bingham. She decided to send your maid down to London to get a few things for the ball and wanted me to make sure you were all right.”
“She did, did she?” My mind, though still rousing itself from my long slumber, instantly caught hold of what Patricia was very likely up to. She hadn’t just gone after Boris because he had been a resident of Russia after all. There were many possibilities of why she would send Charlotte back to the others, but the only one I could think of is that she had thought up a way to smuggle her gun onboard. “How long has Ms. Rabenstrange been gone?”
“Only about an hour or so. She and Ms. Bingham had a lot to discuss first. Something about how your maid manages to get along with her husband?” He looked at me, the question clear in his eyes.
“Mrs. Rabenstrange has a…uniquely passionate husband. Very fiery, you could say.”
“So I understand.” Moses shrugged. “In any case, she asked me to check up on you, and to let you know she wanted to talk with you when you got the chance.”
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson.” I paused. “Have you reconsidered your earlier intentions?”
He snorted. “I think you could probably say that, yes.” Then he glanced further up the hallway, where the room he and Chatelain were to share stood with its door open. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Krongesetz.”
“Hector. Call me Hector.” It felt liberating to say it, and Moses glanced at me in surprise. Then I continued in a somewhat louder voice. “While I appreciate the message, I do believe I will continue to take my rest. Thank you, Marshall.”
Moses’ lips quirked underneath his mustache, and he swept the hat from his head in a dramatic gesture. “My pleasure, sir Baron. Please let me know if you need anything; the Capitaine and I will be playing a game of chance in our room. Which he will lose, of course.”
There was a slight pause, and then Chatelain stuck his head out of the room. “As if, you vagabond. Get in here so that I can instruct you properly in how a true gentleman plays at cards.”
The perpetually offended Frenchman disappeared back into the room, and Moses sighed. He deposited his hat back on his head and straightened it for a moment. “I’ll be seeing you, Hector.”
I nodded, and he strode off down the corridor. He half-shut the door, still leaving it partway open so the Capitaine could still hear what was happening in the corridor. For a moment, I remained at my own door, waiting until I heard the murmur of voices inside their room. Then I closed it softly and retreated to consider the problem.
Patricia had clearly managed to find a way out of the hallway, though Moses might not have realized it. Any attempt to sneak past our would-be escort would be easily detected, however, and given Chatelain’s predilection for bothering Patricia, he would not fail to notice her now. I couldn’t afford to spend much time worrying about it, either; if I delayed too long, then she could be anywhere in the airship again. So how had she managed…
A knock at the window surprised me, and I turned to see Patricia waving at me through the glass. I nearly felt my heat stop in panic before I realized she had fastened herself to a nearby cable using a clip of some sort. She gestured to me, and I hurriedly found the latch to the window and opened it, careful not to knock her free of her perch.
There was very little wind, compared to what we had experienced earlier on the gondola deck. Perhaps the still air foretold some trouble later, but I was grateful for it as I leaned out. “Patricia, what are you doing? You could fall at any moment.”
“Just taking in the sights, Kingsley.” She wrinkled her nose at me, clearly amused by my reaction. “Care to join a girl for a walk this evening?”
There was only one real response to that question, and I soon found myself fastened alongside her on the cable. Fortunately, it appeared to be one of the structural supports for the airship’s frame, which meant that our extra weight scarcely caused it to move at all. We slid along the wire, careful to avoid hanging in front of the window where Chatelain was apparently chatting with Moses, and soon found another room.
Patricia leaned over the latch for the window, and in a distressingly quick amount of time, she had the thing open. She swung herself inside the room and then gestured for me to join her. She spoke as I clumsily managed to copy her feat. “From here, we can get to one of the upper observation decks. I told Charlotte to have the shipment ready by an hour from now; we should have plenty of time to take it slow.”
“How considerate of you.” I sighed to myself. “Can I suppose we are not simply going to meet some friends?”
She snorted softly as she peeked out of the doorway. “You could say that.” When she looked back, she snorted again. “Look, Hector, I’ve been without my rifle long enough, and you know it. No matter how good you are with that sword, you’ll need backup. Things are going to get rough, otherwise.”
It was hard not to agree, but some inner stubbornness demanded I make the attempt. “What makes you so sure that our time is so short? Devonshire might still have plenty of time before he makes his move.”
“I doubt it. The way those guards were acting, they weren’t just there to talk to Boris. They made it seem like he was almost in as much trouble as I was; I’m betting that’s why he ran.” Patricia nodded to herself and then led the way out the door. I closed the window and followed her, careful to keep to the shadows as much as possible.
“So you think that he’ll make his move now, then?”
“Not now. He’ll wait for the banquet.” She led the way through the corridors, clearly following some path she had memorized beforehand. “Boris was working in the kitchens, so I bet they have a little surprise rigged up to go off during the next dinner. He’ll take the blame, as a radical anti-royalist, and Devonshire’s goons can sweep in to finish off whoever escapes in the initial confusion. Quick, clean and easy.”
The pieces fit together far too well for me to deny. She was right, and that meant we needed more than we had. “So they are going to move then. All they need is to find Boris.”
She nodded and kept moving. “I think they’ll probably get to him first, no matter what we do. They’ve been here longer, they have more men, and they are on the inside of the embassy staff. So I think that rather than trying to beat them to Boris, we just need to be ready for a fight in the ballroom. What do you think?”
I felt the decision settle in my chest like a lead weight. “You are right, Patricia. Thank you.” She paused long enough to grin back at me and then continued to forge ahead. We were drawing close to the ballroom where the first night’s banquet had been held when she motioned for me to join her in a maintenance closet.
The closet concealed a sort of tunnel, which quickly led us back out into the open air. My heart went back into my throat as I watched her edge her way out onto a narrow walkway, supported just below the edge of the main viewing platform. Struts that held up the platform stood out like columns between us and the open air, and I cursed the fact that I had not brought the Icarus with me this time.
Patricia found a spot behind one such strut, shielding herself from the buffeting winds and giving herself a place to prop her feet up against the edge of the railing. I sat down beside her, shifting almost appallingly close to her to enjoy the same level of comfort. She grinned to herself and leaned over to me. “They should bring the supplies in just a little while. Hopefully, we don’t run into anyone else here.”
“I think that would be rather unlikely.” I tried to picture who else would be lurking beneath the supports of the viewing platform this late in the evening and failed. Instead, I noted that the evening sunset had stained the sky a beautiful color of orange and pink, as if half the clouds in the sky had caught fire. It was a wonderful sight, and the prospect of spending the next few hours in Patricia’s company was a pleasant one. Just as I turned to say so, a voice rang out, loud and clear.
“It’s about time you showed up.”
We both froze, but our hurried examination showed no sign of anyone else present. My panicked mind had only just processed the fact that the voice had been feminine, and cloyingly familiar, when a second voice came to us. “Je suis content que tu aies attendu. S’il vous plait, pardonnez-moi.”
The woman, who I suddenly recognized as Coronel Soares, sighed. “Don’t talk like that. I never quite got the hang of your language, and I know you’ve never really learned mine, so let’s use the one tongue both of us know, shall we?”
“As you wish.” The other voice was dry, with an odd accent. I almost would have placed it as German, but the presence of French influence was also strong. It was a deep, hard voice, one with an air of command that I had rarely heard, and it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “I am glad you wished to speak with me, Coronel. I thought you never would.”
“Well, I needed answers, and it seemed like you were the best one to give them to me.” Soares’ voice was nearly as firm as her visitor, but I thought I detected a hint of anger in it as well—and perhaps nervousness? “Every year, you’ve invited me to these little gatherings, and every year, I come. Why?”
There was a pause, and then the man responded with a curiously hesitant air. “In all honesty, Coronel, the invitation is usually sent by my well-meaning cousin. He finds it on my desk and sends it, whether I tell him to do so or not.”
“That doesn’t tell me why you are writing it in the first place.” I heard her step forward, the sound clear despite the whispering wind around us. “You’ve made sure that I am here, and then watch me the entire time. It’s like you want another fight, maybe to finish what we started back during the war.”
“I can assure you, that is not the—”
“Yet now I’ve found out that you don’t really consider me a threat, not the way you do others.” She paused, and when she continued, the anger was a bit clearer in her voice. “You’ve never forbidden me from getting close to you, not the way you did Baron Krongesetz. Is that because you are somehow less afraid of me, or because you want to have that last duel?”
My breath caught as I realized who the other voice belonged to, and I exchanged a wide-eyed look with Patricia. I did not know how it had happened, but the Emperor of France was on the viewing platform above us. A harpy and a dragon arguing with one another on the deck of an airship; things were not likely to go well.
Napoleon’s voice was angry when he responded now, his accent growing thick. “Are you that worried for your pet German’s safety, Coronel? He’s assured us many times that the relationship between you is only casual, but now here you are, implying otherwise.”
“I couldn’t care less about him right now, dragon.” I heard her feet shift on the platform above us, and I stiffened, realizing that she might be about to attack. My fingers went for Damocles’ hilt and found nothing, and I fought the urge to curse at my lack of foresight. Patricia latched on to my arm and shook her head, as the Coronel continued. “This is between you and me. If you want your duel, then we can finish it right here and right now—but I won’t be toyed with any more.”
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The Emperor spoke again after a moment, his anger apparently lessened. “I do not wish to fight you.”
“Is that so? Then why haven’t you given me the same warning you gave the Baron? Am I that little a threat to you?”
There was a snort of aborted laughter, though it seemed somewhat bitter. “I could think of no one that inspires greater fear, or doubt, in me, Coronel Soares.”
Exasperation now crept into the Coronel’s tone. “What are you talking about, then? If this is some kind of trick, then—”
“It is no trick, Arabelle. I would never trick you.” There was a pause, and I could almost imagine the Emperor struggling with himself. “In truth, I…admire you, Coronel. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Another pause followed, and then a high, nervous twitter of laughter. “When we first met, I was trying to kill you.”
“And doing a rather fine job of it, I must admit. Your swordplay is very well refined.” He paused again, and I could hear boots clicking on the platform above as he paced. “You were not the first to try to kill me, Coronel, and you were certainly not the last. I have faced many over the years, even before my reign, but there was something different about you. About the way you looked at me.”
Confusion now colored Soares’ voice. “I was trying to kill you. You were my enemy.”
“But not a monster, am I correct?” Another paused followed, and then the Emperor continued, his voice gaining strength. “I have seen fear and hatred in many eyes over the years, and the revulsion so many of them felt was familiar to me. Others have praised my actions and view me with awe, but even then their admiration set me apart. In your eyes, I saw neither worship nor hatred, only a challenge.”
Soares remained silent, and so he continued, still pacing as he spoke. “It is…different to be a leader of men. You are never quite sure where you stand with other people. Who will be your friend, and who your enemy, entirely on principle?” He stopped pacing. “You would never be intimidated by my stature or my Change. To you, I was only a man, someone to be fought, someone to challenge, someone to be faced honestly.” He fell silent again. “Such honesty and character intrigued me.”
The Coronel finally spoke again, her voice a growl. “I hope you are not going to imply you took it easy on me because of any of that.”
He snorted again. “Of course not. Honest or not, you were trying to kill me.” Then he resumed pacing, somewhat slower than before. “Yet you not only survived, you escaped almost unscathed. I saw a strength in you that I wanted, that I needed.”
Soares spoke again, her voice still low and threatening. “So I managed to scare you once, so now you are trying to turn me to your side? Then you’ll finally feel safe enough to start the war again, correct?”
“What? No, of course not.” The genuine surprise in the Emperor’s voice was disconcerting. “You would never turn against your home, and more importantly, I couldn’t imagine you standing for me making such a terrible mistake again. That’s why I need you, Arabelle. You would challenge me, keep me in check. Without that, I could spend a lifetime chasing after every blind ambition, and leave no more a legacy than my father did.”
“So all I am to you is some legacy that—”
“Is that somehow not enough?” He sounded angry again, as if frustrated. “I do not know what you would want from me, Coronel. I am not…inclined to romance, not since my youth.” He resumed pacing again, his voice growing more and less distant as he crossed the platform. “There are too many opportunities for betrayal, for hurt. My father chose unwisely, and his empire fell. All the rights of my people that I’ve restored, all the reforms I’ve used, they could all be wiped away by a single pompous king. It is my duty to leave them a better foundation than that.”
Then he stopped, his voice growing tired. “I cannot do this alone, Arabelle. I need someone to help me leave the world a better place, a more peaceful place. My ambitions led me to war, and I nearly lost everything there. I saw friends die for my dreams, saw nations burn and break for my hopes, and before the end, I realized it was all for nothing. That there was no hope for me to be anything but a monster.”
“And then I saw you, and things changed. You made me want to stop the War, to bring an end to the fighting. Your example convinced me to keep this peace, and the barest hope of seeing you has led to more diplomacy than I can admit.” He seemed to struggle for a moment. “You make me want to be better than I was, than I am. What man could hope for more?”
There was a long silence, and I felt Patricia squeeze my hand softly. I looked into her eyes, and saw deep feelings there, emotions that I had hardly expected. Even if I had wanted to speak, the lump in my throat would likely have mangled any attempted words.
When Soares spoke again, her voice was less angry, but still not warm by any measure. “You expect me to believe that your feelings for a harpy made you change?”
The Emperor’s voice grew hard again, almost angry. “That name is forbidden in my country. You are not some monster out of myth, and I won’t tolerate anyone referring to you as such. Not even you.”
Soares gave a low, twittering laugh. “So what do you call my kind, then? Crows? Bird-people?”
“Angels.” The emotion in that word was close to reverence, and the Emperor seemed to pause in embarrassment. His next words seemed to carry a bashfulness I would have expected from a mere schoolboy. “A beautiful angel of battle. That is what you are, and that is how you will always be treated, here.”
There was yet another pause, one where Patricia shifted closer, and I could almost swear that my heartbeat had grown loud enough to become audible. Then Soares sighed, and I heard her turn as if to look out over the railing. “I can almost believe that your feelings are real, Emperor, but you have to know this cannot work. You are royalty, and someone who once fought against my nation. Even if your feelings are genuine… it cannot be. It will never—mmf!”
The angel had apparently not heard the Emperor come closer, but the muffled sound she made did not sound like she was in pain. It seemed more that she had been surprised, but what could have covered her mouth so quickly that—
Suddenly, my eyes widened, and I glanced at Patricia. She was blushing and fighting to keep from laughing, and I abruptly found myself fighting the urge to laugh myself. I was uncertain about what exactly the international repercussions would be, but I was fairly sure that if I interrupted the Emperor of France kissing a Coronel of the Sky Legion, one or both of them would shortly tear me to pieces.
After a much longer time than I would have expected, I heard them step back from each other. Their breath was coming short, and I held mine, waiting for what the reaction would be. Then Soares spoke, her voice slightly unsteady. “Bold of you, sir.”
“I have never been known as a coward, and neither have you.” The Emperor sounded far less frustrated than he had before, with even a hint of mischief in his voice. “Let kings and queens protest, let people say what they will. I am ready to bear it, if you would only be by my side. Are you?”
“I am no coward, either.” Soares made a few rustling sounds, as if adjusting her wings and clothing. Then she spoke again, in a firm voice. “Nevertheless, I am not some servant you can just order about and summon for your pleasure. I credit you for bravery, but I cannot agree to seeing you like this again.”
There was a deep, painful silence, filled with a kind of quiet agony. Then the Emperor spoke. “So it will be, then. I will not trouble you again, Coronel Soares.” He drew in a single, pained breath, and then continued. “If you it is your desire, I can make sure that our paths do not cross again. I do not wish to be a burden to you.”
Soares snorted. “I did not say that, you oaf.” She walked across the platform and opened the door to leave. Then she paused. “Next time I call for you, bring flowers. A woman deserves flowers, even from an Emperor.”
The door closed quickly after that, and I felt a sympathetic surge of triumph run through me. There was a slight creak as the Emperor of France leaned back against the railing. Then he spoke, quietly. “I understand now. France, l’armee, tete d’armee, Josephine.” Then he let out a bark of laughter. “Tete d’armee, Arabelle! La victoire enfin!”
What followed was a sort of wild laughter, a similarly unrefined ruckus that could only be one of the most powerful men in the world capering like a lunatic. He continued on in such a manner, with Patricia burying her face in my sleeve to stifle her chuckles, and I grinned out into the evening air. Then, of a sudden, he stopped, and his voice echoed what I’m sure must have been an expression of horror.
“Attends, des fleurs. Quelles fleurs? Louis! Louis, j’ai besoin de fleurs!” He rushed from the platform, and the door banged shut with a disturbing kind of urgency. It was at that moment that my struggle to restrain my laughter fell short, and both Patricia and I collapsed into each other with a fit of chuckles. We laughed until my sides ached, and then I sat back with a sigh.
“I suppose that the great and mighty are laid low just as often as the rest of us, Patricia.”
She nodded, still a bit short of breath. Then she glanced out at the sky and pointed. “They made up their minds just in time.”
I looked out and found a familiar gliding shape cutting through the vibrancy of the evening sky. It was the old Daedelus, somehow resurrected from my escapades at the Everston Academy, and below it hung a figure wrapped in a thick leather cloak with goggles.
For a moment I wondered how the glider had managed to gain such height, but then there was a burst of fire behind the device which buffeted it, sending it much higher than before. I watched in astonishment as it swooped closer to the viewing platform, circling slightly as if the pilot were trying to locate us. Patricia waved a blue cloth, and the glider instantly swooped down towards us.
The pilot executed a near-perfect landing, sweeping in between two structural supports and turning sharply upward. A gust of wind nearly ruined the endeavor, partially unbalancing him by tugging at the wings of the device, but he righted himself easily enough and retracted the troublesome things. Patricia and I walked over to him as he freed himself from the straps and buckles that had secured him, and I was surprised to recognize Daniel Summervale, in all his windblown glory. He grinned at us and gestured to his vehicle. “Not bad for a first try, wouldn’t you say?”
I nodded and shook his hand in utter astonishment. It had been nearly six months since I had last seen the man, and the secrecy of our mission, combined with the dangers presented by Lord Devonshire’s men, had kept us from meeting aside from the occasional message or shipment. “It is good to see you, Mr. Summervale. You decided to come yourself?”
He must have heard the unspoken rebuke in my question, but he only grinned wider. “I did! Audrey’s back with Charlotte and the others; she promised to look after her while I brought you your tools. I was the most familiar with the Everston, after all, and unlike Francis, I promised I wouldn’t stay too long. He was very keen to join in the fight, you know.”
Patricia and I exchanged a look. “I can imagine. Are you all well?”
Daniel nodded. “We are. There haven’t been any attempts on the shop, and it seems like Devonshire’s men have orders to lie low at the moment. Well, except for attacking poor Aberforth, but even there they didn’t manage to finish him off.” He turned to the pack he had been carrying strapped to his chest. “I couldn’t get everything that you both might have needed, but I tried as best I could. You might need to reassemble some of it, of course.”
With a troubled look, Patricia grabbed the bag and nearly sent the poor fellow over the edge. “You took my gun apart?”
“Careful!” Daniel freed himself from the last of the straps as she started to ruffle through the contents. “I had to; the barrel was too long for the bag. You should be able to get it sorted out well enough—”
“Oh, it’ll take ages for it to shoot straight again. Just when I had it perfectly tested…” Her comments faded to dark mutters and grumbles as she continued to sort through the contents of the pack, making the occasional clinking sound as the metal moved against metal. I left her to her rummaging and shook Daniel’s hand.
“Well done, Mr. Summervale. It must have been a rather difficult flight. What did you call the device?”
Daniel patted the glider with one hand. “I call it the Everston. I figured that would be best, considering what happened to the Daedalus back at the Academy.”
I nodded, trying to keep dismay from my face. The artisan was a brilliant man, but he was somewhat careless when he named his inventions. It was my sincerest hope that his new device did not go down in flames as that unfortunate school had done. My train of thought led me to a new question about Damocles, but I set it aside in order to settle the matter at hand. “Was there any news from London? Anything aside from the attack on Mr. Aberforth?”
“Actually, yes.” Daniel set about searching his own pockets, rifling through them as if he was looking for something. “Once Charlotte told them about this Boris that you mentioned, Benjamin and Francis decided to do some digging. I don’t suppose you saw the smoke from here, but they managed to track the man down in a pub a few miles from here. I guess he was attempting to make a run for it.”
My eyebrows rose, and Patricia left off her angry muttering long enough to listen. “They found him? He was no longer on the ship?”
Daniel nodded, still searching his pockets. “That’s right. I think they said he was planning on running all the way across the Atlantic; he kept saying that he wanted no part of whatever the ‘dragon’ had planned. He’d stopped to have a bit of a drink, however, and that’s when they found him. After a bit of persuasion, he decided to give us a bit of information.”
Patricia stepped forward, the bag of weapons momentarily forgotten. “Well, where is he? If we have him talk to the French—”
“Ah, he managed to get away, actually.” Daniel paused long enough to give us a chagrined look. “He throw a bottle full of rotgut across the bar, and kicked Benjamin’s legs out from under him while Francis was…distracted. The rest of the place went up in flames, and Francis had to get Benjamin out of there since he’d twisted his ankle—”
It was difficult not to sigh in frustration, but the fact was that Boris’ absence was still a blow to Devonshire’s plans. A scapegoat was rather difficult to use when it was absent, and with Boris off the ship, Devonshire would find it much harder to convince everyone to blame the Russians for the incident he was plotting to create. “They questioned him, however. What did they learn?”
Daniel nodded and then resumed his search. “They got at least a few details out of him, and Benjamin was able to repeat them back to me once they got home.” He stiffened slightly and then held up a packet of folded paper in triumph. “Names and descriptions for each of the men and boxes he helped smuggle aboard. He wouldn’t tell us what was in them—he had only managed to peek inside one or two of them—and he didn’t have a clue what the details of the plan were, but you have a list of targets, at least.”
I took the paper from him, carefully unfolding it to reveal a list of names. There were also pictures traced into other sheets of paper, likely using the descriptions that Benjamin had repeated. “Excellent work, Daniel. Tell the others they may have given us exactly what we need to bring this plot to an end.”
The artisan beamed in triumph, and then he looked back across the sky and nodded. “They will be glad to hear that. After we heard about Aberforth, it was all we could do to keep Francis from coming after you himself. He practically wanted to burn the entire embassy down, though I am not sure whether that was because of his concern, or because he just wanted to see the show.”
“I’m…not entirely sure either.” I stepped back, carefully folding the sheets of paper and tucking them into my own pocket. “Speaking of fire…”
He nodded and turned back to his glider. “Yes, of course. It would be best if I got back soon. The evening sky provides excellent cover, but when it turns to night, the fire becomes a bit more visible than I would like.” With practiced hands, he buckled himself back into the device, securing straps to himself like he was wrapping himself as a present. I watched, bemused by the whole process; compared to the bare essentials which he had provided me with in the Daedalus, it appeared he was taking far more care than he had before.
When his preparations were complete, the artisan stepped to the edge of the railing. He paused and looked back at us, concern suddenly shading his expression. “You will be careful, won’t you? I don’t want anything to happen to either of you.”
I smiled. “We will take excellent care of each other, Mr. Summervale. You have no reason for concern.”
Daniel looked back at me and then appeared to see my clothing for the first time. His eyes darted to Patricia, and for some reason, his face turned nearly as crimson as the sky ahead of him. He abruptly turned back to the open air, somewhat obviously avoiding eye contact. “Of course, yes, well, I wouldn’t expect anything else. Take care, and good luck.”
Before I could answer, he took a sudden plunge off the side of the airship, skillfully turning between the support struts and falling headfirst towards the waters of the Thames below. I leaned out over the side of the railing and watched as the wings unfurled from the Everston, marveling as it caught the evening air. Daniel’s headlong descent became a sudden, swooping flight which quickly carried him away across the water and back toward London.
Satisfied that he was safe, I turned back to Patricia. “It was good to see him again, but I wonder why he left so quickly. I had wanted to ask him something about Damocles.”
Patricia looked me over with an expression of amusement, almost bordering on smugness. “I guess he must have thought he was interrupting something.”
I glanced at my clothes. Our trip to the railing had been stealthy, but it hadn’t done much to repair the dignity of my attire. The fact we had been crouched together during the Emperor’s conversation with Coronel Soares had not helped; it very much looked like I had been rolling about the place. Patricia’s own clothing appeared rather rumpled as well, though she had chosen one of her studier riding dresses as opposed to the ball gowns she had brought with her. Most damning of all was the red hair that was clustered on the shoulder of my coat. I sighed, and plucked one such hair from my coat, examining it. Clearly, Daniel suspected we had occupied ourselves with a kissing game of sorts while we waited, and I was sure that neither Benjamin nor Francis would ever let me hear the end of it once they learned.
“I suppose we will have to move carefully. In our current state, we’d only spread unseemly rumors if we were caught.”
Patricia smirked, lifting the bag that Daniel had left. “I’d think they would be a bit more worried about the firepower than the rumors, Hector.”
I gave her a stern look. “Don’t underestimate the power of gossip, Patricia. If they say the wrong thing, it could harm your reputation even after we finish with Devonshire. The last thing we need is for us to become a scandal based on a misconception.”
“A scandal, huh?” She set the bag back down, her gaze suddenly disconcertingly intent. “I don’t think I mind the sound of that.”
Before I could respond, she launched herself forward and threw her arms around my neck. My breath fled as her lips met mine in a sudden, completely unexpected kiss. The feeling of her lips on mine so suffused my senses that I barely felt her arms tighten around me. My own hands caught up in her hair, however; that much I was very much aware of.
I was lost in that perfect moment, for a time, until she finally stepped back. She grinned to herself and made a few paltry adjustments to her dress. “There. Now they can think whatever they want, and they will be perfectly correct. Shall we go?”
It was extremely difficult to say yes in such circumstances; my blood felt afire and my breath was still short. She didn’t wait for an answer, however, scooping up the bag and sauntering down the railway. I found myself following her, unsteady as a newborn calf. Of one thing I was sure, it had been a most interesting day.