He stepped aside, and Lady Ott came into the room, her skirts swishing over the floor. Walking beside her was a tall golden-haired man who seemed familiar to Coe, but not enough to name.
Coe scrambled to grasp his situation. Obviously, events had turned against him, but to what extent he didn’t know. That warranted caution.
With a pained smile, Coe spoke to Lady Ott. “I seem to be in something of a predicament. Is this a prank? Or do I owe Lord Ott more money than I think?”
Lady Ott’s returning smile was not friendly. She didn’t reply, but waited until Linnet, Meg, and Jack entered the parlor.
The sight of those three sent a fist into Coe’s gut.
He tried to keep up the ruse. “Ah, with this troupe involved, I know it must be a prank.”
Linnet simply glared at Coe, while Meg eyed him warily.
Jack crossed the room and grabbed Coe by the shirt. “Where are Charlotte and Grave?”
Two answers bloomed in Coe’s mind. Two loyalties. Two lives. Who was he—Coe Winter of the Resistance? Or Lazarus, double agent of the Empire?
When he didn’t speak, Jack snarled through clenched teeth. “I saw you.”
Coe didn’t abandon his innocent facade. “Saw me where?”
“The Crucible.”
The fist of fear jammed in Coe’s stomach now splintered into a thousand cutting pieces.
The game is up.
“So you know.” Coe abandoned his amiable expression. Exhaustion overwhelmed him. He didn’t remember the last time he’d slept soundly. “You may believe that by putting me in this position you’ve won a grand prize. But you haven’t.”
“Capturing you may not be a prize,” Linnet said. “But I believe extracting the information you no doubt have will be of great value.”
Coe looked at Linnet with distaste. Yes, he’d helped Charlotte, but shaken as he might be, he wasn’t ready to abandon his father and the Empire. He’d given too much of himself to the wrong cause. If the ship was burning, he’d go down with it. “What information? Do you really think the Empire would let me serve in any other capacity than gathering intelligence after it was plain I’d once been fool enough to be a rebel? You already know everything I could tell you, because my assignment is simply to relay information about the Resistance.”
Hope kindled in Coe’s chest. If he could convince them that his role in serving the Empire was only as a mole, it could limit any damage to the Empire’s plans.
The man who’d been standing with Lady Ott strolled forward. “I might believe that if you were a low-ranking officer, but a commodore? The son of Admiral Winter? Such a man is not a pawn in the Empire’s game. That man is a bishop, or perhaps even the queen.”
Coe tried not to reveal anything through his expression. He knew who the man was now. His French accent combined with Linnet’s presence made it clear.
The pirate bent closer. “Ah, but you recognize me? I can see it in your eyes. You should know that I have no love for a man who sets the Imperial navy on my ship like dogs after a hare.”
“Yes, I know who you are, Sang d’Acier,” Coe said, determined to keep as much hidden as he could. “But pirates bring the wrath of authorities on themselves. A hazard of your occupation. Any ships chasing yours have nothing to do with me.”
“We’re here to identify the turncoat in our ranks,” Linnet said, her gaze cool. “Behold our success.”
Coe shrugged. “A turncoat? I prefer to think of myself as enlightened. I’ve reaffirmed my loyalty to the Empire. If you value your lives, you’ll do likewise.”
“And you take pride in this ‘noble’ deed?” Lady Ott spoke for the first time. “Perhaps from your perspective you’ve done something incredibly brave. But had the American Revolution succeeded, Benedict Arnold would be known forever as a traitor and coward.”
The laugh that bubbled from Coe’s throat was genuine. “If my deeds result in a province being named in my honor, I will hardly complain.”
“They won’t.” Lady Ott’s words were spoken with such malice, Coe couldn’t stop himself from shrinking back in his chair. He regretted the reflex when he saw her smile of satisfaction.
“It’s time you answered your brother’s question,” she continued. “Where are Charlotte and Grave?”
“Safe.” Coe knew making it appear as though he held a gun to Charlotte’s head, even in absentia, it would only make things worse for him.
Meg stepped closer. There was a depth in her eyes that made him want to shiver.
“Charlotte is in the city,” she murmured. “I’ve seen her.”
“Listen to me. Charlotte is safe,” Coe said. “I told her what I’m telling you now. The Empire will grant pardons to any who denounce the Resistance and swear allegiance to Britannia. It’s not too late for you.”
“Enough of this.” The stiletto flashed in Linnet’s hand. “The only person running out of time here is you.”
She pulled a chair alongside his and sat. “You know where Charlotte is. You’re going to tell us how to find her.”
“Why would I do that?” Coe was beginning to think that the time for putting up a confident front was gone. He now needed to think about self-preservation.
“I’ve found that interrogations often drag out unnecessarily,” Linnet said. “Out of a sense of propriety or maybe even mercy, no one jumps right to the heart of it.”
A cold sweat beaded under Coe’s shirt collar.
“We could bruise you or break your fingers.” Her voice was chillingly casual. “But will we gain anything from it? I don’t think so.”
Linnet held her stiletto in front of Coe’s face. Then she turned the blade so its point hovered before his right eye.
“Here is my offer, and it comes only once,” she said. “Tell us where to find Charlotte, or you lose an eye, brother.”
She abruptly stood. “You have one minute to decide.”
Linnet left the room, and Captain Lachance trailed after her.
Meg’s and Jack’s expressions revealed their shock at Linnet’s ultimatum.
Coe had to admit that he was stunned as well. Linnet had been right. He’d expected to endure pain and questions and more pain, but only up to a point—the point of saving face while not sustaining injuries that would have lasting effects.
But to lose an eye.
Even putting aside the torment of such a thing, an eye couldn’t be replaced. The Empire’s tinkers had made great strides in developing mechanical limbs for amputees. But they had yet to create anything of the sort when it came to restoring vision.
Coe appealed to the mercy of his other captors. “Linnet’s temper has gotten the better of her,” he said to Jack and Meg. “Surely this situation calls for reason over passion.”
Jack stared at his brother for several breaths. Then Jack’s face twisted and broke; he doubled over laughing.
Coe didn’t know what to make of this reaction.
“Reason?” Jack choked out the word. “Reason!”
When Jack straightened, his face was red. He wiped tears from his cheeks; Coe wasn’t certain whether they were a sign of mirth or grief.
“You sent Charlotte to the Crucible,” Jack said in a low voice. “There is nothing of reason in that place. Only madness.”
Coe shook his head. “Charlotte spent little time there and only due to necessity. You know she’s no longer there. I assure you she’s been provided the utmost comfort since her arrival at the Floating City.”
Jack began to laugh again. Coe was frightened by the wildness he saw in his brother’s eyes.
“Meg.” Coe turned his attention to her. “Tell me you won’t abide this reckless behavior. Jack and Linnet are motivated by vengeance, nothing more.”
The corners of Meg’s mouth tilted up. “You’re wrong, Commodore Winter.”
Her u
se of formal address made him shiver.
“They’re motivated by love,” she continued. “Something I wonder if you’ve ever known.”
Coe’s fear gave way to rage. How dare she speak such insults to him? How did any of them risk provoking his wrath? He was the son of Admiral Winter. And while fear of his father had shaped him, love had as well. Hadn’t it?
“Do you have an answer for me?” Linnet swept back into the room.
The pirate sauntered in after her, but hung back, letting Meg, Jack, and Linnet close in on Coe.
Linnet stepped ahead of the other two, her stiletto in hand. “Well?”
Coe met her gaze with a flat stare.
“I thought as much.” Linnet crouched in front of Coe and lifted her blade. Its point floated a few inches from his eye.
She turned the stiletto slightly so light bounced off the steel of its length. “Tell us where Charlotte is.”
Coe spat in Linnet’s face. She wiped his saliva away. The stiletto moved closer to his eye.
“Jack!” Coe couldn’t take his gaze from the point of the blade. “This is barbarism.”
“You and I both know the Empire has done the same,” Jack said. “And worse.”
When Coe blinked, his eyelashes brushed over steel. He wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from screaming if the blade came any nearer.
“I’ll tell you!” Coe shouted.
Linnet drew her stiletto back, but only a little. “I’m listening.”
Coe was trembling all over. “You’ll find Charlotte in Zeus.”
When Linnet shot a look at Jack, he said, “That’s the visitors’ quarters, near the center of the platform.”
Linnet nodded. She stood up and returned her blade to its sheath.
Coe wanted to sag in relief, but he forced himself to sit straight and tall. “Savages,” he hissed at them.
Jack’s eyes were nothing less than hateful when he looked at Coe. “If she’s been hurt in any way, you’ll lose a lot more than an eye.”
Coe’s mouth twisted in fury as he stared up at his brother. “I could have had you killed. My orders alone compelled those bounty hunters to spare your life.”
“Do you think that changes anything?” Jack said. “Am I meant to be swayed by your grand expression of brotherly affection?”
“Brotherly?” Coe shot back. “You would do well to remember our family. You always whined about Mother, but did you ever think she is simply too weak to be a true helpmeet for our father? Do you understand at all the legacy he wants to create for us? The House of Winter will be the greatest house of the Empire. Yet you treat your inheritance like a burden. Some of the fault is mine. My folly with the Resistance became yours. But I still had hope that when the time was right I would bring you back into the fold.”
“I think you’ll find you’re quite mistaken about who’s been deluded.” Jack let go of Coe’s shirt and turned away in disgust.
“I disagree.”
“And Grave?” Meg asked.
Coe knew his smile was cruel, but he couldn’t forget the threats they’d made. He wanted them to suffer as he had. “You won’t be able to rescue Grave.”
“Why?”
“Ask Charlotte when you retrieve her,” Coe replied. “She’ll explain. If your little infiltration of the Military Platform is successful, that is.”
“Do you want me to get the blade out again?” Linnet asked.
Coe blanched, but Meg waved a dismissive hand. “Better to turn our minds toward Charlotte than waste more time on this wretch.”
Linnet turned to the back of the room, where Lady Ott waited. “Where would you like him stowed?”
“The larder, I think,” Lady Ott replied. “The cellar would suffice, but Roger has collected quite a number of fine vintages. It would be tragic if this fellow should knock any of them over in a misguided attempt to escape.”
“The larder it is.” Linnet gestured to Sang d’Acier. The pirate whistled, and two burly men entered the room. Lachance’s minions lifted Coe up, chair and all.
The men reeked of stale sweat and worse. Coe felt like retching. The room tilted sideways and began to spin. Memories chased each other around his mind, impossible to follow.
No one spoke to him as he was carried from the parlor into the kitchen. The men deposited him in a corner of the larder. Then he was alone.
Throughout his interrogation, Coe had clung to the last threads of his faith in the Empire and his loyalty to his father. The father who saved him. Who had promised redemption.
But that was over. Whether a fleeting dream or a true possibility, the life Coe had imagined as the honored son of the House of Winter—admired by friends whose hearts he’d turned to favor the Empire once more—had passed into shadow. In the hands of the enemy, he was worthless to his father. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, Coe knew the admiral would prefer him dead over captured.
There was no one to save him now.
21.
CHARLOTTE HAD BEEN sleeping when the envelope was slipped under her door. She hadn’t intended to nap, but soon after curling up on the velvet sofa, weariness had overtaken her.
The envelope held a key and a note.
I had a choice. So do you.
Coe’s words caused a pang in Charlotte’s chest. He wouldn’t forsake the Empire, but somehow he still felt compelled to help her. She wondered if Coe hoped she would choose to heed his words and stay. Could he really believe that she would choose the Empire over the Resistance?
The Resistance might be flawed, but it existed because of the corruption and abuses of the Empire. Charlotte knew where she belonged and whom she would fight for.
Attempting an escape before the deep of night would have been foolish, so Charlotte was forced to wait for agonizing hours to pass before she slipped the key into the lock and turned it.
No guards were posted outside her room. Had Coe dismissed them, improving her chance of escape?
She closed the door behind her and walked quickly down the hall. While it was hardly ideal, Charlotte could think of no means to leave the building other than the stairs she’d used while being escorted in and out. Too much time would be wasted trying to find alternate exits.
Charlotte hadn’t yet reached the stairwell when footsteps in the corridor locked her in place. She could make a run for the stairs, but the sound of her footfalls might prove her undoing. Casting her gaze up and down the hall, Charlotte searched for an alcove or cranny where she could duck out of sight until danger had passed. She found none.
Hiding wasn’t an option. That left fighting.
Whoever approached would have to turn a corner before they could see her. That meant a brief window existed where Charlotte had the element of surprise. She might be able to subdue her opponent and then continue to the stairs.
Charlotte crept forward, pressing her body against the wall. The footsteps were closer. Closer. She balled her fists, wishing she had a weapon.
In the dim hall, the figure that rounded the corner was little more than a silhouette. Charlotte lunged. Her body plowed into the stranger’s. She’d succeeded in catching him off guard.
“Unh!” His cry of surprise became a whoosh of air fleeing his lungs. Charlotte drove him hard to the floor.
Charlotte kept her knee planted on his sternum, then raised her fist, aiming to land a blow with force sufficient to knock him unconscious.
Someone grabbed her arm from behind.
“You don’t want to do that,” a familiar voice said. “Though for a minute I considered letting it happen. Would have been fun to watch.”
“Linnet?” Charlotte could barely make out her friend’s features.
“I expected to find you locked up,” Linnet said. “How is that you’re roaming the halls?”
“But . . .” Charlotte turned back
to the man she’d attacked. “Then who?”
“Not how I imagined the rescue,” Jack said, rubbing his chest. “Not at all.”
“Spear of Athene,” Charlotte muttered. She offered Jack a hand and helped him up. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“I hope not,” Jack said. “Otherwise we need to talk about why you want to kill me.”
“How did you find me?” Charlotte asked.
“A fine question,” Linnet whispered. “But one that should be answered after we finish rescuing you . . . or rather, come along as you continue rescuing yourself.” Linnet’s smile flashed in the dim hall. “Unless you think we’ll be an encumbrance. You were obviously faring quite well before we arrived.”
“Oh, hush,” Charlotte said, stifling a laugh. “Just get us out of here.”
“My pleasure.”
Linnet took point, letting Jack fall in step beside Charlotte. He clasped her hand, squeezing it hard.
Lachance was waiting for them near the door. Given his perpetual air of confidence, Charlotte was surprised to see the pirate looking distinctly uncomfortable. Catching her eye, Lachance plucked at the sleeves of his military costume.
“I can barely tolerate these clothes,” he sniffed. “They’re so . . . legitimate.”
Charlotte covered her mouth to muffle a giggle. Jack laughed as well, but the sound soon became a grunt of pain.
“I told you.” Linnet wagged a finger at him. “You shouldn’t have come. You’ll be lucky if you get through the night without having to be sewn up again.”
“You’re hurt?” Charlotte ran her eyes up and down Jack, seeking the source of his pain, but not finding it. She felt even worse about ambushing him.
Jack put a smile on. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Linnet muttered something unintelligible.
“You can scold me as much as you want once we’re out of here,” Jack said to her.
Ignoring him, Linnet said to Charlotte, “Do you know where Grave is?”
The sight of Grave cut open, unmade, jumped into Charlotte’s mind and caused her blood to curdle with revulsion.
Something in her expression compelled Linnet to ask, “Truthfully, Charlotte, can we help him tonight? Is he somewhere we can access?”
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