Amid Wind and Stone

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Amid Wind and Stone Page 14

by Nicole Luiken


  Audrey assumed Frederica absent until her laugh floated over on the breeze. Apparently, she’d joined the adults and was hanging on Duke Anders’s sleeve.

  Looking grim, Franklin took another swallow from his crystal cup—from the odor, it contained something stronger than the punch Audrey had been ladled. He drank steadily as the parade began.

  The zeppelin Queen Winfred, her father’s flagship, had the honor of leading. Its majestic 500-foot-long balloon envelope and windsails swelled to take up half the sky. The usual sky-blue sails had been swapped out for ones of darker blue with the silver falcon of the Royal House. Windsails were never used in the Grand Current—the strong winds would tear them to pieces—but cleverly folded in and out from the sides of the gondola. The riflemen fired off a thirty-two-gun salute in honor of the queen’s age as they sailed past the palace.

  Next came twenty smaller dirigible-class airships. They flew in close formation and performed parade maneuvers: separating into groups of ten and weaving past one another, then joining back up and flying in pairs, then forming a wall of ships with sails almost overlapping. It was precision flying, made possible only by the long-winded talent of the pilots. Audrey oohed and ahhed and clapped with the others but found herself distracted.

  Hoping The Phantom might be about, she edged farther down the balcony to an unclaimed spot at the rail and fingered the special hatpin in her pocket.

  Vexingly, Franklin followed her. “Audrey,” he said awkwardly, “I wanted to apologize.”

  She blinked. “For what?”

  He tugged at his snowy white cravat. Today, his brown suit coat was paired with an emerald green waistcoat. “For Frederica’s rudeness at the garden party. You didn’t deserve her hostility. It was your father she was truly angry with.”

  When would Frederica have even spoken to Admiral Harding? “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said baldly.

  “My parents believed they were close to securing the queen’s support to retake the northern kingdom of Oriac, but when your father returned to Donlon, he dissuaded her.” Franklin’s smile twisted. “I don’t blame him. He’s just being conservative, not wanting to take the Fleet so far from home and risk leaving Donlon vulnerable. But there’s no denying it was a blow to our hopes.” He sighed. “Your father never mentioned this?”

  Audrey shook her head. “My parents don’t discuss politics at the table.”

  “Oh? Politics are the Konigs’ lifeblood.”

  My parents don’t talk at all, except to argue.

  “Anyhow”—Franklin gazed into his cup as if fascinated by the contents—“I just wanted to explain. I always knew convincing the queen was a long shot, but once Frederica gets an idea in her brain…” He shook his head. “And now, of course, her new plan is the duke.”

  He clenched his jaw, so angry Audrey feared for his crystal cup. She glanced at the adult party, where Frederica smiled coquettishly at the portly duke.

  “I can’t stand the thought of her sacrificing herself to that goat,” Franklin said with barely contained violence.

  “I think I know why she’s doing it,” Audrey said quietly. “At the garden party, she asked the wind whom she should marry to help regain Oriac’s throne. Chinook must have named the duke.”

  “Damned capricious wind.”

  Audrey’s curiosity pricked her. “Would the wind lie?”

  “No, but you have to be careful what question you ask. I bet Frederica asked whom she might marry, not if marrying was the only way to regain the throne. I asked Chinook what I should do last week and got a different answer.”

  “And?” Curiosity sparked again.

  Franklin raised the cup to his lips and seemed surprised to find it empty. “She told me to fly my falcon. So I did.” He glanced around to be sure they were private. “Nothing unusual happened that day except that I met Piers. I don’t know why he’s important or what he’s supposed to do.” A soft laugh. “He certainly can’t finance a dirigible fleet.”

  Audrey inhaled. “Maybe it’s not something he does; maybe it’s someone he knows. You should ask him to introduce you to his inventor friend.”

  “An inventor? Of a new weapon, do you mean? Or a new airship?” Franklin leaned forward, brown eyes alight with interest.

  She shrugged. “He’s been commissioned to build something for the Fleet. I don’t know what.”

  “Hmmm,” Franklin mused. “Worth pursuing the acquaintance, then. Not that Piers isn’t a fine fellow,” he added hastily.

  Even if he is a nobody. Audrey heard the unspoken caveat as clear as day and felt bad for Piers.

  An “ooh” from the onlookers redirected Audrey’s attention back to the parade. Fleet maneuvers had ended, and the hot air balloons had launched.

  Smaller and rounder, with neither sails nor rudder to steer, the balloons had no ability to go against the wind. Those with strong long-winded pilots kept to the parade, but some veered off course and there were large gaps in the line. They were nevertheless a gay sight, with silk panels sewn of bright colors. On the royal balcony, Prince Hans jumped up and down in excitement.

  Franklin moved off in search of refreshment, and Audrey found herself alone at the rail.

  She searched for Grady in the crowd below and finally spotted him across the street, leaning against the wall with his bicycle. He saw her and straightened. She shook her head. Not yet.

  A voice made her jump.

  “Don’t turn your head,” The Phantom whispered. “Pretend you’re watching the parade.”

  She could see his blurred shape out of the corner of her eye. He was standing on the other side of the railing. It made her stomach flip to see him floating on thin air—a fairy tale made real. “Are you insane?” she whispered. “Almost everyone here is long-winded.”

  “Why, Audrey, have you changed your mind about wanting me to be caught?” Amusement warmed his voice.

  Had she? Leah’s story tumbled in her brain. Audrey certainly didn’t want him to die. But he was a thief. He deserved to go to prison.

  But what would captivity do to someone accustomed to the whole sky as his playground?

  “Or is it the job? Zephyr said you wanted me to steal something.” His lips hovered beside her ear; her skin felt like it was on fire. “Now that you have a use for it, has my talent become acceptable?” he asked mockingly.

  He made her so mad! Audrey fished the hatpin out of her pocket, wishing she could stab him with it. Remember the plan. She inclined her body a few inches so she could see him and still pretend to be watching the parade. “I want you to steal a gold button from Admiral Harding’s white uniform jacket during the parade. In return, I’ll give you my necklace.” She touched her diamond-studded locket.

  He chuckled. “Be easier to just steal your necklace.” He hooked his finger under the gold chain and tugged.

  She filled her voice with disappointment. “So you won’t do it?” Her fingers brushed cloth, the edge of his jacket.

  “I never said that,” he denied. “I like challenges, but if I’m going to risk stealing Admiral Hardbottom’s button, I want a bigger prize than a little old necklace.” Another tug. The locket on the end dipped into her cleavage. Chills coursed over her skin.

  “I—I don’t have much allowance,” she said breathlessly. Her fingertips traced the seam of his jacket pocket, and she dropped the hatpin inside.

  “I don’t want money or baubles.” His voice dropped. “I want another kiss.”

  “A kiss?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. A kiss from you is worth more than a few measly old diamonds.”

  His words stole her breath. Did he mean that?

  “I’ll find you tonight and collect my reward.”

  “But I’ll be at the palace tonight,” she protested—to thin air. The Phantom had vanished. She leaned over the rail and frantically waved her handkerchief.

  Grady threw his leg over his bicycle and pedaled hard, following the brooch’s buzzing signal.
>
  Audrey watched him go with her fingers crossed, knowing this part of the plan was a long shot. A range of fifteen feet wasn’t much. Grady probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with The Phantom on his bike. But any clue to The Phantom’s home would be valuable, and Grady deserved an opportunity to help.

  The crowd gasped, drawing her attention back to the parade. The younger children pointed. “Look at that ship go! Zip, zip!” Jane’s six-year-old brother cried.

  Audrey heard it first: the roar of an engine in the sky. In seconds, it zoomed into view: dirigible size, but with spinning propellers in place of sails. It flew the Siparese flag.

  Shock slapped Audrey. How had it gotten here, to Donlon? The engines must have taken it through the windless doldrums, and even now were bulling through the underbelly of the Grand Current by main strength, which struck her as wrong. Disrespectful.

  Silence fell over the streets as the new airship zipped through the hot air balloons, neatly navigating below and between them.

  “It’s heading for the palace!” the Henderson boy cried.

  Audrey’s fingers turned cold, and her stomach churned. Was it an attack? Queen Winifrid and her son stood in plain view on the royal balcony, though the consort was absent, too ill to attend.

  Her father’s zeppelin swooped down from above, dwarfing the smaller ship. Rifle fire cracked out, but either missed or was meant as a warning shot.

  The Siparese airship ran out a white flag.

  “The queen’s waving permission to land,” the Henderson boy reported. He held Spectro-binoculars up to his eyes.

  Audrey wished she had a pair. She could see Queen Winifred standing with her hand on the shoulder of her young son, but she couldn’t make out the monarch’s expression. Prince Hans was bouncing up and down in excitement, craning his head to get a better look at the new airship.

  The crowd held its breath as crewmen lashed the Siparese airship to the palace mooring post. A short, mustached man descended a rope ladder from the gondola. He wore a red sash.

  “It’s just the Siparese ambassador,” Duke Anders said loudly. “We received a message that an envoy would attend the Queen’s Birthday.”

  The word “ambassador” passed from mouth to mouth, and a sigh of relief rippled through the crowd below. Followed by indignation at such a “showy” entrance. “Downright cheeky, I call it,” a sausage-seller declared.

  The relief didn’t spill over onto the adult side of the balcony. Their expressions remained strained. Princess Neomi clutched her husband’s arm, as if ready to faint.

  Dread coiled in Audrey’s stomach like a snake. Was this what the stolen message had concerned? A warning about the new zippy type of airships?

  “Parade’s over!” Lady Henderson called in a quavery voice. Everyone gratefully trooped inside.

  Audrey lingered, searching the crowd below for Grady. The streets were clearing of spectators, and she saw him and his bike leaning against a shop window. He met her gaze and shook his head vigorously, then made a circling motion.

  She pursed her lips in disappointment. The Phantom must have circled around and lost Grady.

  Grady tapped his brooch and pointed at the balcony.

  Did he mean The Phantom was here?

  Audrey whirled around, but she couldn’t see any blurred images. She was alone except for Piers. Ah, right. He’d taken one of the hatpins for a souvenir. That was all Grady had sensed.

  Piers joined Audrey at the rail, looking mystified. He wore the same gray suit and bowler as before—perhaps they were his only fine clothes. “Mind if I ask you a question?” he asked in a low voice. “Why’s everyone so upset just because the Siparese were showing off?”

  The uneasiness inside Audrey crystallized. “It wasn’t just showing off. It was a threat.”

  “What? Against the queen?” he scoffed. “They’d have to be suicidal to attack during the parade. Aren’t assassinations done in secret in the middle of the night?”

  “Maybe, but it was still a threat, against the queen, against all of Donlon.” Audrey bit her lip, thinking furiously. “Did you see the propellers and the easy way the…the…zipship maneuvered through the air without Calling the wind? Don’t you see what that means?”

  “Donlon’s trade fleets might have some competition,” Piers said flippantly. “So what?”

  “It means we’re not safe. It means Sipar can attack our city.”

  “With one ship?”

  Audrey thought of the rumors of silk buying… “Even if they don’t have a fleet”—yet—“they can use the threat to force Queen Winifrid to agree to the trade embargo on the northern free states.” Like Oriac. Poor Franklin. There definitely wouldn’t be any Crown assistance forthcoming now.

  She shivered.

  “You’re cold,” Piers said solicitously. “Let’s go inside.”

  She let him escort her inside, even though her chill was more inner than outer.

  Chapter Eleven

  Red Jasper

  Fire World

  Where was she?

  Dorotea stared around in shock. She was in a small cavern full of mirrors, her hand touching the largest mirror she’d ever seen, one with four different panels.

  She looked down at herself and gasped. She was wearing different clothes, a dull gray dress instead of turquoise robes. Who had dressed and undressed her? Her skin crawled. And where had they found such a dress? Its cut and style was different from any she’d ever seen before.

  When she glimpsed herself in the black mirror, the creepy crawlies worsened, because it both was and wasn’t her face. Her eyes were the right color, her chin the right shape, her hair the same dark brown, but her hair was too long, and her features were gaunt, the cheekbones stark.

  She scrambled backward, and her hands came away smeared with grime. A layer of fine, black dust—no, ash—covered the room, and instead of regularly spaced light squares, a single light tinged everything red. Smoke filled her nostrils.

  The light came from a long, horizontal recess in the wall. It contained neither burning candles nor lighted squares. She looked out through the opening, and her breath caught in horror. The whole ceiling was red. No, it wasn’t a ceiling; it was the sky of this place. She wasn’t in a cave, at all. She was Above! The red light came from the burning sun.

  Dorotea cowered away from the window. All her life she’d heard tales of Above’s dangers: the burning sun, the lack of water, the endless wind, and the sandstorms that could flense the flesh off bone.

  What was this place? How had she come to be here?

  She closed her eyes and tried to remember. The gargoyle had led her away from the Cathedral to a small cavern with no entrances. She’d gone to sleep and had a nightmare—only to wake and find the gargoyle on the verge of murdering her. She’d struck out, and the collar had punished him and then—

  Then what? She’d heard a voice inside her head telling her to look into a mirror. She’d met her reflection’s eyes in the tiny pool and fallen…here.

  She’d entered her reflection.

  It sounded mad. Impossible. But she had no other explanation for finding herself here in a different body.

  Another terrible thought occurred to her. If she was here, did that mean her reflection, her other, was inhabiting her own body right now? She wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering. This was so, so wrong.

  A gust of wind blew more ash inside, and her fear ratcheted higher.

  The mystery of what had happened could wait. Right now she was in danger. Above. Exposed.

  The need to find true shelter consumed Dorotea. She hurried down some steep steps, but they only took her to the same level with the ground. She was still Above. Where were the stairs underground? Her feet left tracks in the black ash as she darted from room to room.

  She found beds and tables, evidence that people had lived here once. She also found a door to the outdoors, gaping open. She shut it, but almost every room had a square opening to the outside, letting in
the hellish red light. Kitchen, pantry, laundry room—she investigated each chamber but couldn’t find any stairs leading down.

  Was this why the other had stolen her body, because her world was uninhabitable?

  The hopelessness of her situation sent Dorotea to her knees in the middle of the floor. Her breath came in ragged pants. How long might she be trapped here? She’d started all this to save Marta, and now her sister might well die before Dorotea ever saw her again.

  And that finally made the tears come. She curled up on the floor of this horrid world and cried.

  …

  Stone World

  Leah kept her gaze on Jasper and away from the small seep of water. Luckily, the cave was otherwise devoid of reflective surfaces, so it should be easy to avoid being ousted by Dorotea. Nevertheless, Leah knew she couldn’t keep her Stone self out forever.

  “So the Goddess is causing earthquakes?” Leah asked, wanting to verify that she understood. “The lords of this world, the Elect and the priests, are trying to keep the Goddess asleep?”

  Jasper nodded. He began to walk around, whether pacing or just stretching his legs, happy to have freedom of movement after years locked in a statue, Leah couldn’t tell. The thought of what he’d endured brought tears to her eyes.

  She blinked them back and tried to focus. “The earthquakes are very worrisome. I bet Qeturah’s the one causing this. Did I tell you about her? She’s the reason I’m here. She’s an evil woman from my world, who wants to shatter Stone World.”

  Jasper stopped. “I know why the Goddess is angry, and it has nothing to do with other worlds. Will you listen? Dorotea would not.”

  “Of course I’ll listen,” Leah said, chagrined.

  “It’s very simple. The Goddess carved out every cavern from her own body. They are her children.”

  Like the Volcano Lords on Fire World were the children of the Goddess in the Lake of Fire, the caverns were the children of the Goddess of Stone. Leah nodded.

  Jasper continued, “The humans mine the gold that is the Cave Lords’ blood. The Goddess’s children grow weak and silent. The gargoyles warned the humans to stop stealing the gold. When they didn’t listen, we prepared to go to war to defend our kin. That’s when they declared us traitors and used the collars to enslave us.

 

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