Her spine snapped straight. “He was not!” she denied hotly. Then she realized her outrage was rather ridiculous now that she knew the gargoyles had been in the right.
“Rose Granite, if she tries to remove your collar again, break her neck.”
“Yes, Master,” Rose grated. Thick brow ledges descended over her eyes in a scowl.
Unperturbed by her obvious hatred, Gerhardt cast his gaze up and down the street. “Call your gargoyle,” he ordered Dorotea.
Dorotea felt a fierce spurt of satisfaction. Gerhardt didn’t recognize Jasper. “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t have the bracelets anymore.” She pushed up her sleeves to show him.
Jasper looked stunned. Had he expected her to give him up to save her own skin?
Gerhardt frowned. “Are you hiding them? Rose Granite, is there any gold on her person?”
Rose Granite tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and inhaled. “No.”
He swore. “Elect Harmon told me you freed him, but I didn’t believe it. That was very foolish.”
“No. It was the right thing to do. Gargoyles aren’t beasts. Enslaving them and angering the Goddess was foolish and evil.” Her words were more for Jasper’s benefit than Gerhardt’s. Did he believe her? Finally?
Oddly, Gerhardt didn’t get angry at her. “Nonsense. You’ve been deceived.” He grinned like a bandit. “However, a rogue gargoyle gives me an excellent excuse to keep Rose here and not put her back to sleep.” He patted the ugly gargoyle on her bald head.
Rose Granite gnashed her teeth like she wanted to bite off his fingers.
“Maybe I should thank you for giving Stone Heart Clan the opportunity to reclaim some of our former prestige,” he said generously.
Apparently, Gerhardt really hadn’t liked Elect Harmon’s gibe about renaming themselves Miner Clan…
“You can thank me by letting me go,” Dorotea said instantly.
“Oh, no.” He smiled as if she’d said something funny. “If I did, I’d look incompetent. Capturing you but having the gargoyle free is the perfect compromise.”
Jasper growled in the back of his throat. Dorotea shot him a warning look.
Gerhardt frowned at Jasper and the other girl. “Why are you two scavenger rats still hanging around? Scat!”
The scavenger girl took off at a run. Jasper hesitated, then followed. He glanced back several times, frowning as if unsure this wasn’t a trick, but Dorotea resolutely pretended she didn’t know him.
This was her chance to make amends. Her only way of showing that she truly regretted what she’d done and believed he should be free. After this, he would have to believe her.
Of course, after this, she might be dead. Her stomach swooped.
“We should get moving before another sandstorm blows up,” Gerhardt said. “Rose Granite, rise up and hold the prisoner’s arm instead of her ankles. Follow me.”
The gargoyle obeyed in hostile silence.
“Where are we going?” Dorotea asked loudly, in hopes that Jasper might still be listening.
“To the power station. Elect Harmon will want to question you. Or perhaps more.” A sly glance. “He’s very upset with you, you know.”
Fear dragged claws down her spine, raising chills and her pulse rate. Would Elect Harmon try to torture Jasper’s whereabouts from her?
She must have paled, because Gerhardt smirked. She struck back. “And you always jump to do his bidding, don’t you? Maybe he should tattoo your cheek.”
Her dart hit home. He scowled. “Stone Heart Clan is nobody’s lackey!”
“Yet you’re turning one of your own clan over to him.”
“You’re only half Stone Heart. But very well, I’ll offer you a deal. Tell me where the collar and bracelet are hidden, and I’ll protect you from the Elect’s wrath. Stone Heart Clan will need more collars to reclaim their rightful heritage.”
Dorotea snorted. “That’s easy. Both the collar and bracelets are slag on the floor of the hidden cavern.”
“You’re lying.”
“Ask Rose Granite. She should’ve sensed the gold.”
“Rose Granite, is that true?” Gerhardt asked menacingly.
“Yesss,” she hissed.
“This is for not telling me.” Gerhardt held up his hand and squeezed the fingers into a fist. Rose Granite’s collar sparked and flashed. She made a strangled noise and convulsed.
Dorotea’s stomach heaved, and bile gathered in her throat. Worse than seeing Rose Granite suffer was knowing that she had done this to Jasper.
When Gerhardt finally opened his hand and stopped the punishment, Rose Granite glared at them both.
“I’m sorry,” Dorotea rasped. “I didn’t know he would do that.”
“Little girl doesn’t think,” Rose Granite snarled.
Dorotea absorbed the reprimand with a bowed head. She should’ve thought of the consequences, instead of just scoring points off Gerhardt. “I’ll do better.”
Gerhardt interrupted them, frowning, “But you and the gargoyle traveled together after leaving the hidden cavern.”
“Yes.”
“How did you make him do what you wanted without the bracelets?”
Dorotea answered him with a question. “How did the first Stone Hearts make the gargoyles share their caverns?”
He stared uncomprehendingly. He didn’t get it.
“Through friendship,” Dorotea said. “I didn’t make Jasper do anything. He helped me of his own free will.” Well, really he’d helped Leah, but Gerhardt didn’t need to know that part.
Gerhardt shook his head in disgust. “You really are Niall’s daughter—a traitor to your own kind. Watch out, or you’ll die the same way: at the hands of my gargoyle.”
Chapter Twenty
The Fleet—
In Which Serving on Kitchen Duty Proves Unexpectedly Useful
Air World
The duty sergeant, a broad man with a florid face and a mustache like a scrub brush, squinted suspiciously at Audrey and Grady in his green uniform. “Who did you say you were again?”
“Midshipman Grady FitzHarding, newly reinstated. And this is my friend, Andrew Woods. He’d like to enlist.”
Audrey bobbed her head but kept her gaze downcast and her shoulders slouched. She was wearing a baggy men’s shirt and trousers. She’d wrapped her torso to flatten her breasts and widen her chest into a manlier silhouette and let Mae re-butcher her hair, but she couldn’t do anything about the shape of her face or what Grady referred to as her “dainty” wrists.
“Hmmph. This is highly irregular. Just who reinstated you, FitzHarding?”
Grady lifted his chin. “Admiral Harding.” He didn’t need to say “my father.” The words hung in the air.
Audrey had been astonished when she’d arrived at Grady’s to find the whole household in an uproar, getting Grady packed to rejoin the Fleet. His mother had been weeping, terrified because her boy was going to war. Grady had swept Audrey into a too-tight hug. Apparently, the Admiral had stopped in three hours previously and not only reinstated Grady to midshipman, but also informed him that Grady had been written into his will. Grady was flying high: ecstatic, relieved, and determined to do the Admiral proud.
Audrey didn’t have the heart to tell him she suspected the Admiral had decided to acknowledge him because he believed his daughter was in the hands of kidnappers and he might die without an heir.
Grady was convinced she’d engineered his good fortune, so he’d agreed to her plan to dress as a boy and enlist—though he’d shaken his head and told her she wouldn’t make it past the duty sergeant.
Said sergeant harrumphed. “You’ve cut it a bit late, midshipman, but, aye, you’re on the list. Up you go.”
Grady attacked the rope ladder, though not without a backward glance at “Andrew.”
The duty sergeant grunted and eyed her sourly. “You look a bit weedy. How old are you?”
“Seventeen.” Audrey pitched her voice low. “I just want to do my p
art for the war. I have some long-winded talent.” She tried to sound modest, but she expected such a rare skill to seal the deal.
Instead the sergeant snorted. “As if I’d trust a green recruit to pilot the ship or patch the envelope.”
Her heart sank.
As she was turning away, another officer called from above: “Lift off in ten minutes!”
“I’m still six men short!” the duty sergeant called back up.
The other man shrugged. “Not my problem. We loose moorings in ten minutes, with or without any missing crew.”
The sergeant swore ripely, then turned to Audrey. “You, wait.”
Audrey calculated in her head. She’d timed it just right. There was no way Jem could make it home with the note she’d given him in time for her mother to stop the Queen Winifrid from departing Donlon. Now if the sergeant would just relent…
Five minutes more passed with only two more crew returnees.
“Time to pull up the ladder, Sarge,” the man above called down.
Audrey lifted her face hopefully.
The sergeant skewered her with a glare. “You willing to do scut work? Shovel coal, grease gears, run errands?”
She nodded tightly. “Yes, sir.”
“Do you get airsick?”
“No, sir.” Audrey held her breath while the sergeant considered, chewing on his mustache.
“Wannabe hero, eh?” The sergeant made a face, but sighed. “Monkey on up, then. At the very least you’ll be an extra pair of hands.”
The Fleet sailed for Sipar—a three-day journey in this direction with the Grand Current, and a week back—but Audrey barely noticed, stuck peeling potatoes in the bowels of the ship.
…
Two days had passed. Audrey teetered on the edge of exhaustion, not just from the unaccustomed labor but from the strain of pretending to be a boy. Grady had slung a hammock for her in an out-of-the-way corner, but she still tensed anytime someone strolled by. Trips to the necessary were worse.
She didn’t know what she’d thought she could accomplish out here. She hadn’t seen or heard any news of The Phantom or any hint of Qeturah.
She ought to have stayed home. Every time she thought about how frantic her mother must be, guilt drowned her in sticky regret to the point she felt sick to her stomach. When she did make it home, her mother would ground her for life. No more airship cruises.
Grady had midshipman duties, so most of the time, she had no one to talk to either, and when they did speak at meals, they had to be circumspect.
At supper on the second day, she saw a light in Grady’s eyes. “Have you heard the news?”
Dread squeezed her stomach. “Has the Siparese Fleet been sighted?”
He shook his head impatiently. “Not yet. But there’s a rumor going around that the Admiral caught a spy.”
Just like that, her stomach plunged all over again. Piers.
“Are those mashed potatoes?” Grady nattered. “I missed them.” He started to stand.
Her hand seized Grady’s in a hard grip. “Is it The Phantom? Tell me now.”
“Ouch!” He glared at her. “I don’t know. I only hear rumors, all right?” He settled back down.
Wordlessly, she pushed her plate over to him. He could have all the mashed potatoes and gravy he liked if he’d just tell her about Piers.
“Thanks! The official word is that the Admiral figured the Siparese might try to sabotage the airship and set up guards. But Jensen told me the guards were carrying something all bundled up in a net. ‘Now why would they use a net?’ I asked myself. A phantom could sneak right by a guard, but if he got trapped in a net, the guards could know they caught something because it wouldn’t lie flat. See?” Grady dug into his mashed potatoes with relish.
Audrey watched him chew, mind spinning. She had to save Piers. Not only did she not want to see him convicted of treason, but locked up, he would be a sitting duck. She couldn’t forget Leah’s insistence that Qeturah planned to murder him. “Where are they keeping him?”
“In the brig, I assume.” Grady swallowed. “Why?”
“No reason,” Audrey said, but she must not have been a very good liar, because her brother’s eyes widened.
“Audrey?” he said softly. “I thought you wanted him caught.”
The Fleet Parade seemed so long ago. She looked around; no one was listening. “He’s the Grand Current’s son. If he’s killed, the whole Fleet may be ripped apart.”
Grady’s mouth hung open. He had shreds of carrot stuck in his teeth. “What?”
Audrey hurriedly explained; Grady’s expression grew ever more incredulous. By the time she finished, his eyes were like saucers.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this earlier. So what are we going to do?”
“I have to see him.”
Grady snickered. “See the invisible boy?”
“Talk to him,” Audrey corrected herself.
“And how are you going to do that? There’s sure to be guards.”
Audrey bit her lip, looking down at her plate. The glimmer of an idea came to her. Prisoners, after all, still had to eat.
“Supper for the prisoner,” Audrey mumbled to the guard, head hanging down. She held her breath. If The Phantom had already been fed, she’d claim it was a mistake, but the wide-shouldered guard would remember her face and later attempts would be harder.
The ensign studied her dubiously. Although he looked five years older than she was, his complexion was acne-spotted. “I’m under orders not to open the door for any reason.”
“How come?” Audrey asked.
“Take a look for yourself.” The ensign gestured to the cell. Like the kitchen and crew quarters, the brig was located inside the envelope’s rigid aluminum rings rather than in the gondola.
The brig had three regular walls, but the side facing the hallway had aluminum bars. It also lacked so much as a stick of furniture.
Her heart leapt at the sight of The Phantom, sitting with his back flattened against the far wall. She studied his wind-blurred features with worry. Had he been roughed up? Was he hurt? “I don’t see anyone,” she lied.
The ensign smirked. “That’s because he’s a phantom. We can’t open the door, or he might slip out.”
Audrey played dumb. “How do you know he’s even in there if you can’t see him? Maybe he already escaped.”
“I said you couldn’t see him,” the ensign said sharply. His blotches turned redder. “Anyone long-winded can. I assure you, he’s still there.”
Audrey shrugged. “So where do I put the food?” The plate wouldn’t fit between the bars.
The ensign huffed amusement. “Turn it sideways, and pass it through the bars.”
Audrey frowned. “But then all the food would fall off.”
He shrugged. “So he’ll have to eat off the floor.”
Petty man. “But—but it’ll be dirty,” Audrey protested, trying to disguise her dislike as stupidity.
“Yes, it will,” he said impatiently.
Audrey shook her head, still frowning. “It isn’t right to waste food.”
“Do you have a better solution?”
Audrey pretended to think, then smiled. “I’ll feed him through the bars.” While the ensign watched, dumbfounded, she sat cross-legged by the bars and scooped some mashed potatoes onto a fork.
“Use a spoon!” the ensign said urgently. “We can’t risk him getting a weapon.”
Audrey obediently switched utensils, loading the spoon with potatoes and poking it through the bars. “Here, Phantom. Suppertime,” she caroled as if to a dog.
Piers’s wind-blurred face looked at her in, first, outrage, then astonished recognition.
“Come on,” she coaxed.
“That won’t work,” the ensign predicted.
Piers approached. He didn’t move like he was in pain. He crouched down and ate the mashed potatoes.
Audrey victoriously waved the empty spoon at the ensign. “I think
he’s hungry.”
Rolling his eyes, the ensign walked down to the end of the hall. He was still within earshot, but no longer watching as closely.
“Zephyr, guard our speech,” Piers whispered. A breeze swirled around them. “There. We can talk now. First, any chance you have the key concealed about your lovely person?”
Blushing, she shook her head.
“The ensign must have it,” he muttered. “He isn’t long-winded, no matter what he claims. If he’d just come close enough, I could pick his pocket. Now then, Audrey, not that it isn’t a treat to see you, but what on earth are you doing here?”
She straightened her shoulders. “Don’t call me Audrey. Right now I’m Andrew.”
He laughed. “Andrew, huh? Soon you’ll have as many secret identities as I do. Have you turned spy?” he teased.
She shrugged uncomfortably. “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here after I warned you there was a trap?” For form’s sake, she offered more potatoes.
He spoke around a mouthful. “The wind took me to the woman pretending to be my mother.”
“Qeturah,” Audrey supplied.
His fists clenched. “She was hiding out in a warehouse. I was going to confront her—kill her like she killed my mother—but I heard her talking about the Mirror Device Norton built. I don’t think it does what your father thinks it does.”
The ensign walked by again, eyes boring into her.
Audrey kept her face blank and dished up a spoonful of peas.
Piers curled his lip at the mushy green orbs. “Ugh.” He tipped them on the floor.
The ensign brayed a laugh. “So much for not making a mess.”
Audrey spooned up more potatoes. She waited in an agony of suspense while the ensign lingered through three more mouthfuls before finally turning and resuming his patrol of the short hallway. “What does the Device do?”
Piers shook his head, blurring. “I dunno. Some long-winded brat saw me hovering outside the window and started throwing stones. By the time I returned, she was gone. I stowed away on a dirigible, and I’ve been leapfrogging from ship to ship, trying to get close to the Device. I thought I glimpsed Billy boy once.”
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