by A. W. Exley
Roughed fingers brushed her hair aside and the hessian loop dropped over her face―
Allie bit back a cry as she sat bolt upright. Dawn spread across the sky. Disoriented, she wondered why she saw only trees and shrubs not jeering faces. Her blood still thrummed in her ears.
A hand stroked a strand of hair from her face and rested on her nape, offering comfort. Her gaze flew to a pale grey one.
“Morning,” Jared murmured, his thumb making gentle circles on her skin. “Nightmare?”
“Newgate.” She swallowed and drew a deep breath of fresh highland air into her lungs.
Something flashed behind his piercing gaze. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”
Shaking off the fear, she dropped her head back onto his chest. “Have you been awake this whole time?” Lying in his embrace, a newfound sense of peace settled over her. She was exactly where she wanted to be, safe in his arms.
“Zeb and I have kept watch, you and Duncan have been asleep,” he explained. He opened his mouth to say something else, but changed his mind. Instead, he picked up her hand from where it lay on his chest and stroked his thumb over her palm. Raising it to his lips, he placed a kiss in the centre.
“For later,” was all he said, his voice thick with everything he couldn’t articulate, as he curled her fingers over the token.
They lay in silence watching the colour bleed across the sky until it was time to get up and move. There was little chatter as they tacked up the horses and strapped on swords for the journey, tension starting to creep its way over all of them.
It was a slow ride over rough terrain. Many times they were reduced to a walk as they descended a gully and climbed back out the other side. Occasionally, Zeb paused to check their bearings with his compass and nervously consulted his pocket watch to ensure they were on track. Eventually the ground flattened out. As the sun rose higher in the sky a break in the enclosing treesrevealed the grey hulk of an ancient castle up ahead.
Part of one side crumbled into the ground. The other side looked modified within the last few years, with thick glass windows and a watertight roof added. Behind the castle, they could just make out the nose of a small airship, tethered close to the ground.
Duncan let out a slow whistle when they all halted to take it in. He turned to Jared. “Did you even know this was here?”
Jared shrugged. “The area is littered with old castles, you stop seeing them after a while. This is remote enough I suspect only hunters would ever stumble this far. We’ve certainly never run across it, although it is past our border.” He referred to the boundary of the lands where he and Duncan grew up. “This looks like it was used as a hunting lodge at some stage, the rest of the work is recent.”
Four guards outside the castle watched their approach with disinterest, though Allie saw one go back inside, no doubt to report their arrival. They dismounted and turned the horses loose in a large stone-walled pen, leaving them to graze the meadow grasses growing high within. They approached the battered building. Allie thought it looked sullen, hunkering into the earth, dark and brooding.
Count Illyich came bustling out wearing a particularly bilious green and gold housecoat.
“Ma cherié,” he cried on seeing Allie. He reached out both hands as he neared, to grasp her arms and kiss her on both cheeks. He cast only the briefest of glances at the miserable Zeb, slumped between Jared and Duncan. “My, don’t you look like a little warrior princess today,” he said, on taking in Allie’s garb.
“Count,” she murmured. In a louder tone, she complained. “These boys have had me out all night in this god forsaken wilderness, you wouldn’t happen to have any coffee would you?”
He laughed. “For you, ma cherié, of course.” Taking her by the hand, he led her toward the old castle. “Take them to the work room,” he yelled to two of the bodyguards, who fell into line next to the three youths, guiding them in the correct direction.
Allie followed the count through the cold hallway, into a comfortable study. The dark wood panelling was complemented by deep red velvet drapes and furnishings. He walked to a low table and poured her a coffee from the still steaming pot. Scattered about were several open wooden tea chests containing much of the bric-a-brac from around the study. The bookshelf stood forlorn and empty, all the books nestled in another chest, waiting for its lid.
“Leaving?” Allie asked, dropping into an overstuffed chair.
“I have been here long enough,” he replied. “My business is done and plans have been set in motion, so now it is time to re-join the brighter lights of Europe.”
Allie wondered what assignment kept a Reaper operative holed up in the depths of the Highlands for over a year. Converting a castle and a private airship indicated significant financial investment in this little venture. In itself not unusual for Reaper projects, but something gnawed at her. Gregor working in the background didn’t fit the normal grandiose scale of Reaper missions.
What if he’s not working solely for a guild? Could he have other employers?
Allie had an itch at the back of her brain, trying to pin down whose hand was at work. It added to her concern over the Whisperers’ motives. She knew she had to figure it all out before time ran out, but the strands were so layered she couldn’t make sense of the pattern. Her father sent her here to learn something, but what?
“You said yesterday you might know of another business opportunity for me?” She sipped at her coffee, giving Illyich a coy stare over the rim of the cup.
A cold, calculating gaze settled on her. Allie concentrated on her coffee, letting the silence hang.
He picked up the lid for the crate of books and placed it on top, his short fingernails drummed on the thin wood. “The world is divided in two halves; guild and noble. Sometimes the most lucrative jobs cross the boundary.”
The itch in Allie’s brain grew more insistent, phantom fingers could almost scratch the surface. “You mean work for nobles?”
“There are men, very wealthy and powerful men, who like to play the game of politics. These men have very deep pockets for their special projects.”
Allie forced herself to sit still and let the conversation play out. So close. “They sound like the sort of older men who would interest me as patrons.” She reached out and refilled her cup. The coffee was excellent, and she decided to finish the pot if she could. She hadn’t been joking about the horrors of being in the forest all night. None of the boys thought to pack coffee with them.
His gaze rested on her for a moment longer and then he seemed to make up his mind about something. “There is a group of nobles, known as the Consortium. These men are very interested in English politics and desire power to remain in masculine hands.” He picked up a small wooden horse and brushed a finger down the mane, before placing the object in a box. “Wouldn’t it be ironic if one slip of a girl could solve the Consortium’s problem with another girl?” A smile pulled his lips as he laughed at his own joke.
Fireworks exploded in Allie’s brain and she hid her disgust behind the delicate coffee cup. The problem he spoke of was Princess Victoria, the future Queen of England.
They’re plotting against Victoria. Is this what the Whisperers want to know?
She placed the empty cup on the desk and moved closer to Gregor. “How do you contact the men in this Consortium?” She ran her fingers up his arm.
He caught her hand and dropped a kiss on her fingertips. A shadow passed behind his eyes. “These are dangerous men with a long reach, who move in high circles. I am sure with a pretty dress and help from your overlord, you will find them.”
Damn it. If I want to save Victoria I’ll have to ask Le Foy for a detour on the way to Newgate.
Looking bored with the discussion, he took her by the hand. “Come with me so you can verify with your eyes that I have the item Le Foy is so interested in and that it remains unharmed. You will find little else here to twitter about back to your guild master.”
They left
his study and crossed the hallway to what had once been an old double height ballroom, but was now a workshop. Criss-crossed high near its soaring roof line were narrow metal catwalks where several guards armed with rifles patrolled, overseeing the work below. Tables and workbenches ran along the sides and were scattered through the middle. The metal surfaces were bare, but scratches and dents showed they were once used. Cabinet doors hung open, showing vacant shelves as though someone packed in a hurry.
On a lone table Allie recognised a device as being similar to the drawings she saw in Zeb’s laboratory. A shiver ran down her spine to realise his father had replicated the weapon, even if on a tiny scale.
Allie and Gregor stepped down into the ballroom, and the count picked up a lone trinket resting on the corner of a workbench. He turned it over in his hands to show her the workmanship and explained its function. She flicked a casual glance at what appeared to be a chess piece.
A chill spread through her limbs and whispered for her to be ready. She ran a hand over the bulge in her satchel before pulling the strap over her head and then placed the bag on the floor. The flap shivered and lifted a fraction before dropping back down.
She rotated her shoulders, reminding her body of the placement of the blades on her back. One hand ran a finger over the object Gregor held, listening to his explanation about its function, while her other hand rested on the belt of throwing stars.
She saw Zeb and his father engaged in a heated discussion over the rocket he built, while Duncan and Jared looked on. Jared pulled out his pocket watch before taking Zeb by the arm to march him up the stairs. Allie realised their time had almost run out.
The movement caught Gregor’s attention. “Might I enquire as to what you think you are doing?”
“We’ve had a change of heart. We’ll be leaving now and taking the Lithgows with us.” Jared and Duncan stepped in front of father and son.
Gregor shot a look of outrage to Allie. “What is the meaning of this?”
She shrugged, trying to feign ignorance. She didn’t know how this was going to play out. Two guards moved and block the only obvious exit. She mentally added up how many guards were in the ballroom and noted their positions. Zeb checked the time again and murmured to Jared, but they were too far away for Allie to hear how close they were to KRAC arriving.
Gregor’s face turned red, his hands fisted at his sides. “Did you take me for an idiot? Why do you think I gave you these co-ordinates? I told you there would be nothing to see.” His arm swept the ballroom and the numerous empty work tables. “Yet I kept my men close to hand. Do you want to know why?” A cold smile crept over his face. “I expected some treachery from Le Foy.”
He gestured to a guard on the walkway and then turned to Allie and blew her a kiss. “I’m sorry cherié, it has been an entertaining interlude, but a double cross cannot go unanswered. I’ll make sure you are returned to Le Foy. Well, most of you.”
Jared and Duncan could only watch helplessly as the indicated rifleman knelt, cocked his head to one side and took aim.
llie’s gaze fixated on the rifle butt when a flash of silver on the walkway caught her attention. The metallic blur launched at the rifleman, who cried out then spun and swatted at his pants.
Weasel slashed at the man’s legs using the razor sharp tip of his tail. His long claws dug deep into flesh as he climbed. The man tried to whack at the mechanical creature with the rifle and dislodge him from his thigh.
“That’s my boy,” Allie whispered. She pulled a throwing star from her belt and hurled the lethal object at the distracted guard.
There was a startled cry as he pitched backward and dropped the rifle. The star embedded in his exposed throat. His hands clawed at the metal disk and then his efforts diminished as the blood flowed from the large vein.
“A pretty move, cherié, but I have far more guards than you have small trinkets. You’ll not be walking away from me.” Gregor threw his arms open, gesturing at the surrounding guards.
The room rang with the sliver of steel as Jared and Duncan pulled their swords free of their scabbards. More guards poured into the room, hopelessly outnumbering them both on the ground and above.
“Zeb, get yourself and your father under the workbench.” Jared indicated the sturdy work space beside them. He and Duncan headed further into the workroom, away from the Lithgows, drawing the attention of the guards with them.
“Whisperers should stick to secrets, you obviously have no head for tactics.” Gregor’s gaze tracked Jared’s movement. “Was this your great strategy to seize control of the Lithgows? You thought to simply walk out, with no other plan in mind?” he laughed them.
A cold light shone in Jared’s eyes, chilling even Allie. He held a finger to his lips for silence and pointed upwards.
“Hear that?” he asked. “That’s my back up plan.”
Overhead came the faint whir of dirigible blades. The guards surrounding them looked upward as though expecting the ceiling to become transparent and show the airship hovering above. Jared used their distraction to attack, thrusting his sword into the nearest guard before moving on to the next one.
Duncan undertook a similar course of action to his left.
“Up!” Jared yelled to Allie, pointing to the gantry where guards were taking aim with rifles, far too many for the small Weasel to hobble.
“On it,” she called and threw another star with lethal efficiency.
Gregor turned to leave the melee. Jared drew his dagger with his left hand and threw it hard. He had the brief satisfaction of seeing it lodge deep in the count’s back. The Russian stumbled and fell, before the guards pressed in around him.
Allie threw a second star to slow the egress of the advancing men, causing confusion among them as their fallen comrades blocked the small walkway. Weasel darted between their legs, his tail slicing Achilles’ tendons before he leapt out of the way and cut the next guard.
The chaos created by the mechanical creature gave her valuable seconds to assess the fastest route upward. She spotted a hanging ladder off to one side, the bottom rung ten feet from the ground and Duncan fought close by.
“Duncan,” she yelled and pointed over his shoulder as she ran.
He gave a nod, understanding her intent as she hurtled toward him. With a powerful attack, he drove his sword into the chest of the guard closest to him and held out a hand for her with impeccable timing.
Allie jumped, one foot planted on his hand and then he tossed her toward the ladder, which she grasped with one hand.
Duncan returned to the fight, withdrawing his sword before the guard even hit the ground.
She swung herself up the ladder and onto the gantry. The first guard to approach received a quick upward thrust from her dagger. She took his rifle and swung the shaft to connect the butt end with the chin of the next guard, pushing him over the railing to the ground far below. It was only as she ran out onto the narrow catwalk high above the parquet floor that she realised her fatal mistake. Two guards approached from the other end and she could hear more coming from behind. She glanced down, she would never make the drop. The only saving grace was the narrowness of the walkway; there was only room for one person at a time.
Weasel gave a high pitched squeal and launched himself at legs, arms, and torsos, trying to cut a path to his mistress. Guards jumped and hopped and tried to swat him out of the way. One guard caught the creature on the end of his rifle and flung Weasel over the side.
Out of the corner of her eye Allie tracked where Weasel landed and breathed a sigh of relief to see the creature scurry under a workbench. From Weasel her gaze flicked to Jared for a mere moment and then she swallowed, wondering who would attack first. Those men in front of her, or those trapping her from behind?
Jared spotted a discarded rifle and scooped it up with his left hand.
“Cover me!” he bellowed to Duncan as he sheathed his sword. Dropping to one knee, he took aim at the closest guard to Allie.
The sh
ot rang out and Allie froze, sure it must have been aimed at her. In slow motion, she turned to see the first guard behind her clutch at his chest. Red blossomed from between his fingers much to his surprise, and hers. Flicking her gaze below, she caught sight of Jared tossing the still smoking rifle to one side as a blow came at him. She didn’t have time to cry out as the guard’s blade sliced into Jared’s right arm. A heavy weight plunged through her gut as crimson bloomed over the sleeve of his white shirt.
Duncan stopped the blow from going further by running the man through and tossing him backward, off his cousin.
Relief flowed through her as Jared pulled his katana free of its scabbard and continued fighting. Her own pressing issues surrounded her. She shoved her emotions to the back of her brain and allowed years of training and sparring to kick her reflexes into action.
Placing both hands on the railing of the catwalk, she swung herself up and over the fallen guard and landed both boots in the middle of the chest of the guard behind him, knocking him to the floor. She dispatched him cleanly with one of her short swords. The other two men were within striking distance, but she knew they couldn’t attack her at once. With both her swords drawn, she proved to the lead guard why two swords were better than one.
She didn’t have a chance to touch the second guard, who was taken care of from behind by Christian. He gave her a nod before they both turned in opposite directions.
The Conri came pouring in through the windows at various heights, rappelling from the airship hovering above. The black clad soldiers launched themselves into the fray, dispatching guards as though they were scything hay. Allie turned in search of her next opponent only to realise there were none. Looking over the side of the catwalk, Duncan and Jared stood alone among the Conri, walking between the fallen. A tiny lightning bolt shot between table legs and then disappeared into her satchel.
She drew a deep breath. Adrenaline surged through her body and her heart pounded hard in her chest. She concentrated on where her throwing stars ended up, using the mental distraction to calm her rampaging body and mind. The metal discs were too valuable to lose. She found all but one up on the catwalk and remembered the first guard pitched over the side.