Over the Night Horizon

by Kacey Ezell

  “Go home!” Marit shouted. “Leave her alone. The guards haven’t the sense to let her out of the barricades!”

  “She might carry the fever! That’s what happens when you lay with Immortals! They got Elidon’s son, and now her! He’s been all over town about it.”

  “Miss?” The Sisters spotted her then waved her over. One of the Delsarte servants stood with them, just out of view ‘til Lucia approached.

  Lucia stepped forward and brushed tears from her face. The guardsmen stopped her from getting too close to the barricade and leaving the quarantine zone.

  The servant lofted a small valise past the guards to land at Lucia’s feet with a thud. The guards hustled him away as he waved and smiled. Lucia picked up the small case, a sinking feeling in her gut as the angry masses hurled demands and invectives at the small group of Eventides who followed her back into the quarantine zone.

  “Miss Delsarte, we can send word back to your family that you’re safe.” One of the Sisters took her aside at the edge of the barricades.

  “Thank you, Sister, but if this case was sent from my home, they know well where I am. Go, tend to your work. Give my regards to Sister Amelia. Tell her I owe her a fine dinner and tea when this is over.” Lucia brushed away tears and steeled herself as she headed back toward the ship with Marit.

  “If I’d known it was going to turn ugly, I’d have sent de Graaf. I am so sorry, Miss Delsarte.” Marit picked up the valise and cast a wary eye to the crowd at the barricades.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 14

  The Marinport Council gathered, shouting and yelling, in the City Council Chambers. Tempers ran high, and voices louder yet. Duke Delsarte took his seat amidst the chaos, grateful as ever that Remy Elidon was on the other side of the room. Word had spread of his actions, taking it upon himself to post the lockdown notices. Delsarte found it hard to look his colleague in the eye. What’s Elidon’s end goal?

  “Silence! Councilors take your seats!” the moderator shouted from her podium at the front. She brought her gavel down louder each time in a series of strikes that echoed through the room. The gathered councilmen quieted and took their seats, murmuring softly as they did so.

  Delsarte watched Remy Elidon carefully as he shuffled papers, glanced around nervously, and spoke with his assistant in whispers. Everyone around Remy was waiting, silent.

  “Elidon! Explain this!” One of the other councilors waved one of the flyers in a clenched fist.

  “I did what was needed! I lost my son in the fires, to the trade! The plague that ravages the city and the fire! Our best and brightest are being lured into selling themselves at the docks with promises of gold and silk and lust! I did what needed to be done. You must agree, this is for the future of Marinport! We cannot allow this…this wretchedness to continue!” Remy punctuated his speech with fierce gesticulations and hammered his hand down on his desk, rattling the jug of water perched precariously close to the edge.

  “Elidon, you’ll ruin the city’s trade. We rely on those ships! The medicines. The perishables. Be reasonable!” another councilor shouted in protest to Remy’s forceful claims. The moderator struggled as decorum and order gave way to chaos and temper.

  “You wish for more plagues? Send your beloved daughters and sons off to the docks to sate the NightShips with their foul Immortal appetites! The oceanic ships are quite capable of handling the cargo. We’ve grown too accustomed to the NightShip service. We have no need of the Immortals. Now’s the time to rid the city once and for all!” Remy fired back, his face growing redder by the minute.

  Delsarte rose and stared Remy in the eye, maintaining his calm against Remy’s incessant rage. The man had developed something of a fiery temper since the loss of his wife, which had been compounded by the fractured relationship with his son. Delsarte watched, bemused, as his own composure appeared to fuel Remy’s rage further. Delsarte had much to lose if the docks closed, but he wasn’t about to let Remy Elidon have that satisfaction.

  “You wish to tell the Eventides that the medicines may not arrive to save the poor souls in the clinic now full to overflowing? Perhaps we should send flowers of condolence to the soon to be dead? Roses for the ladies, daisies for the children, a sprig of thorns for the Consorts, and a sprig of greenery for your son?”

  Remy snorted as he sat down, huffing with rage. “Allow the medicines in until the ocean liners bring in more, but no Sources, no Consorts, and no Immortals may leave the dockyards unless they’re sailing on outbound ships or commit to joining the Eventides and leaving the trade.”

  A murmur of assent swept across the room. The vote was unanimous. As the rest of the council stared, Delsarte raised his hand in agreement. Lucia was safe, and this would buy time to sort out Elidon’s true intentions. Delsarte rejoiced in Elidon’s look of dismay as Delsarte gave his agreement. That wasn’t the reaction Elidon had clearly wanted.

  Duke Delsarte took his seat with a satisfied grin. Remy hadn’t won this round as solidly as he’d aspired to. Delsarte looked down at his papers, and the note passed to him moments before he walked into the Council Chambers. Matthias Elidon is alive. Tell no one.

  * * *

  “Lucia will only be gone three weeks at most. It’ll fly by. She’s off on adventure, and she’s safe. Sit, have your tea, darling.” Edith gestured at her husband’s usual spot at the head of the table.

  Duke Delsarte sat down and drew in a deep breath. “Always my voice of reason.”

  “I considered joining Lucia on the Leeuwin, for safety for myself, and to keep her company, but I felt she might want some space, and I’m coming to respect de Graaf. I told her she could make her own choices with him. He’ll keep her safe, and she’ll conduct herself with discretion.”

  Duke Delsarte glanced up from his food. “You think they’re—?”

  “Perhaps. I don’t know for sure. I told our well-educated daughter that I trusted her to make her own choices. That de Graaf is a handsome, well-to-do man. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst match. She won’t be happy confined to an estate home with a cluster of children. Some of the suitors who came calling were so dull, I almost fell asleep over dinner chaperoning them.”

  Duke Delsarte nodded as his wife spoke. “You’d be right. I’ll be the scandal of Marinport for a while if they strike up a romance, but no worse than anyone else. It could be a good, if unconventional, match.”

  “I checked around. He runs a reputable ship. His crew don’t carouse around town, and they bring shipments to the Order on every run. They might be as reputable as the Eventides, aside from the immortality and dalliances with Sources. Perhaps it’s the match that was meant to be. You made a wise choice for her safety.” Edith topped up his tea.

  Delsarte sighed. “The mob threatened to bust down the barricade to burn the NightShips. All I could think of was getting them away first. Elidon’s got the constables going through the docks and warehouses, giving orders to have all the Immortals and their Consorts removed from the city. I was hoping by the light of day, common sense would prevail, and the cordon would be lifted. Now I contemplate whether we should leave Marinport ourselves before the blockade is expanded further.” He tapped his spoon against the wood of the table, a fretful, tense action.

  Edith gestured for the server. “The duke needs a stronger drink at dinner. Perhaps for the next while.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll consult with the barrister, and if we perhaps relocate, so be it. I’ll see if I can coax some of the Council into common sense first. If you can, speak to Amelia and let her know we’ll do all we can to ensure their supplies keep coming in, if I have to pilot an airship myself. I won’t let the cordon put the most vulnerable at risk. Damn it to hell and all, Elidon has no idea what he’s doing. Utterly bumbling, going off like a raging fool.”

  Edith set her tea down and reached for her husband’s hand. “He’s lashing out over the loss of his son and wife.”

  Duke Delsarte huffed. “He’s the reason they’re both gone
. Rumor is he drove her to despair as a difficult, demanding husband, and then if that wasn’t enough, sent his son to seek solace on the docks. It was probably more comfort than the poor man ever saw living with his father. Rumor is Matthias perished in the fires when the Source barracks went down in flames. Poor soul. May the saints give him rest.”

  The Delsartes ate in tense silence for a few moments.

  “I only pray to the saints for a safe trip for Lucia and de Graaf. I’m going to the city tomorrow morning. I need to see what’s salvageable of my warehouses, and I have some ideas to talk over with legal counsel. We’ll get this sorted. And when it’s all over, Remy will pay.”

  Edith nodded. “I’ll go with you. I have a lunch date with Amelia to pick up supplies for the Order. They took in many of those displaced from the fire, and some of the orphans I said we could house at the estate out of town. A terrible thing to happen to those poor young souls. I thought I’d go lend a hand; it’ll be a distraction from missing my own daughter.”

  * * *

  Duke Delsarte and his wife walked along the charred waterfront after bribing a guard for access to inspect the damage to his warehouses. A hefty offering of gold granted passage. A few of the tea houses and taverns remained, the parcel drop, a straggling few garment shops, and merchants. The fire had levelled the place utterly.

  “Such ruin,” Delsarte mused aloud. “I’m not sure the city can rebuild before winter sets in.” They walked along, picking their way around the heaps of rubble still being piled on the curbsides as the restoration continued.

  “The Sources need shelter. That’s gone, too.” Edith gestured at the ruins of the Sources’ rooming house and tugged her wool wrap around herself against the cool wind blowing off the morning sea.

  “How do you know where the Source House is located?” Duke Delsarte asked.

  “Oh, I was with Amelia on one of her ministering nights, nothing more, my beloved,” Edith replied. “Amelia doesn’t like going down here alone, so I accompany her from time to time if no one else is available. I worried for Matthias and the others.”

  “No one’s seen Matthias since the fire. Remy’s not going to take this well,” Delsarte replied as a figure turned down the docks towards the Delsartes. “Speak of the man himself, my mistake.”

  Remy Elidon approached from the other end of the street, a smug look on his face. Delsarte’s sliver of optimism bled away. There was no escape from Elidon, who picked up his pace and strode up to Delsarte and his wife in short order.

  “Such a tragedy. The Eventides are running funeral services for many of the deceased, the plague victims, and nursing the survivors. It’s a dark time for the city. I do hope your family is safe.” Remy gestured at the burned warehouses. “These were your warehouses, correct?”

  Delsarte frowned. “All staff and family accounted for; I’m a fortunate man. I’m sorry about Matthias. He was a good man,” Duke Delsarte replied, keeping his composure as he watched Remy stifle his own reaction at the sound of his only son, his only heir’s name.

  “He was troubled; he was on a path to a miserable demise, despite all our efforts,” Remy replied and leaned close to Duke Delsarte. “Your lass will surely be a good replacement for de Graaf. He used up my son, and you kindly offered your daughter to your Immortal business partner. You must be so proud. May they provide you many illegitimate half-legal grandchildren before Lucia’s tossed back on the docks for a new plaything. Speaking of, where is Lady Lucia? I haven’t seen her since the night of the fire. I haven’t seen Captain de Graaf slinking about, and the Leeuwin’s gone. Sailed two nights ago. Funny that. Did she come to her senses and join the Eventides?”

  “Lucia’s well. We sent her on a brief respite to her aunt in Norway. I’ll send her your regards,” Edith Delsarte replied with a brusque tone, a manner that clearly implied she disliked the man.

  “You’re certain she’s not on the Leeuwin, servicing the Immortal crew?”

  “You’re sure Matthias isn’t over a barrel doing the same on one of the other ships? We haven’t seen him in some time, either. The last anyone saw of him was over there, in that smoking ruin that was his home, the Source House.” Delsarte pointed to the charred remains of the bunkhouse. “I’ve a mind to help them rebuild and make it a better accommodation for the Sources. In memory of Matthias, rest his soul.”

  Remy turned scarlet, and his eyes widened as he turned on his heel and stormed off. Delsarte smirked, glad to have gotten under the man’s skin once more, though less thrilled at the aspersions cast on Lucia. Delsarte could scarcely recall a time when Remy wasn’t wretchedly sharp-tongued with all in his sight.

  Delsarte took in a few breaths to cool his own slow burning temper and walked along to his warehouses with Edith on his arm. He stood at the worn stones where the loading doors once stood. The wear of a thousand steps had glossed the stones smooth. All that was left was a pile of ash, charred beams, and little else. All the merchandise awaiting buyers, awaiting ships, all of it, his empire, gone. He could certainly rebuild, and Lucia was safe. He hadn’t lost everything.

  “Lucia is fine. He’s trying to goad you. I told you, she sought my counsel, and I gave her sage advice, much as you would have.” Edith rested her hand on her husband’s arm.

  “And de Graaf knows to protect her reputation. Just hearing those words from Elidon, I wanted to shove the man off the dock.”

  “He seems to inspire that feeling in many people. Come, let’s see what’s left and make plans to rebuild. Lucia would be displeased if you spent three weeks moping over things.”

  * * *

  In the early morning sun, the Delsartes stared at the ruins, and Etienne poked at them with his walking stick. There in the ashes, a flash of color illuminated in the morning sun. He reached into the ashes and plucked out a delicate strand of rubies. His cane knocked a box open so that it spilled its contents; some sapphires and emeralds, and a few pieces of gold jewelry, slumped from the intense heat. Not a lot, but they could be sold, and he could recover. Delsarte and his wife began a methodical search and found a few more coins and boxes of necklaces and loose gems. Delsarte had started from modest means; he could rise again.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 15

  In the silence of her small cabin, Lucia held back the tears. They wouldn’t help now. This wasn’t the worst situation to be in. She was safe, and her parents were safe. This was just an impromptu diversion from the routine. She popped the case open on the bed. Contained within were a few changes of underclothes, a dress, a set of work clothes, a nightshirt, some toiletries, a book that had been on her nightstand with a ribbon marking the page, a letter marked for her, and one for Captain de Graaf, both in what Lucia recognized as her father’s neat handwriting.

  “Dearest Lucia, this isn’t goodbye, only a wish for safe travels. I trust the crew of the Leeuwin, and I trust you. Return home when things are quieter, and don’t break de Graaf’s Immortal heart on the trip. Your mother insisted on a generous envelope of money and thought the work clothes might be more comfortable on the voyage. We miss you, and we’ll see you soon. The port isn’t safe, and I’ve instructed de Graaf to leave immediately.

  Much love, your mother and father.”

  Lucia took a moment to set the clothes in the small wardrobe and placed her book on the nightstand, with the letter tucked inside the pages. The room wasn’t anywhere close to homey after these actions, yet it felt a little less cold, and the ache for home a little soothed. After a few minutes’ consideration, she changed into the work shirt and pants, her gardening wear, which carried the faint odor of the gardens at the Delsarte Mansion. The scent of home comforted Lucia as she slipped her boots back on, tied her hair back, and took her place as not quite crew, not quite passenger of the Leeuwin. She picked up the letter for Captain de Graaf and slipped it into her trouser pocket.

  Lucia looked up and down the corridor to get her bearings. Which end led to the crew lounge and Delsarte’s cabin?


  Marit came around the corner. “Ah. Lost already. That way.” The medic pointed. As Marit gestured, the ship shuddered and hummed. Lucia grabbed for the brass rail running the length of the corridor.

  “Just the engines. We’re up and running. If the motion of sail makes your stomach a little unsettled, come see me, I have remedies. Have you ever sailed?” Marit offered as the two women made their way to the crew lounge.

  Lucia nodded. “A few times; London, Paris. Not for a few years, since I’ve been away at school. I should be able to hold my nerves and my stomach.” The ship gave a sharp lurch, and the women heard the dockworkers shout, the sound of mechanics, and the rattle of chains.

  “I guess we’re departing in a hurry. De Graaf is usually very gentle with the Leeuwin. Come to the sailing deck, it’s a lovely view.” Marit turned the corner, and instead of heading to the lounge, led Lucia up to the sailing deck, up three sets of narrow stairs Lucia took carefully.

  “Captain, your guest is on deck,” Marit called out.

  “Good evening, Miss Delsarte, Marit. My apologies for the hasty departure, but the dockmaster suggested it for fear of further issues. All the ships are departing. Come watch.” De Graaf gestured out the windows of the Leeuwin’s sailing deck. Alongside her, the other airships coasted in the night sky. The NightShips fled to the safety of the open ocean and the cover of darkness. Lucia leaned over the rail and looked down at the ink-black ocean to see several ocean ships sailing along. A few of the crew spotted Lucia and waved up at her.

  Marit glanced over as she saw Lucia wave back. “Seems we have solidarity. The blockade won’t last if half of us are refused, and the other half are barricaded.”