Spymaster

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Spymaster Page 34

by Margaret Weis


  “Now they know something is wrong,” said Phillip.

  The officer of the marines began issuing orders.

  Kate didn’t understand Guundaran, but there wasn’t much doubt as to what he was saying. She could hear the sounds of the marines shuffling to their feet and picking up their muskets. The clamp on the docking arm was right above the cleat, opening, reaching for the ferry. Once Elisha told his story, she would be in as much trouble as these two.

  “Damn and blast you!” Kate muttered, glaring at Thomas.

  She hurriedly thrust her pistol into her belt, then flung her hands into the air and started to scream.

  “Don’t shoot!” she cried, shrill and hysterical. “Help! Please!”

  As she was screaming, she shifted her gaze to look directly at an ax mounted on a bulwark. Thomas followed her line of sight, saw the ax, and immediately understood.

  “On my signal, cut the line!” Kate said in a hissing whisper.

  Thomas gave her a flashing smile, grabbed the ax, and dashed toward the mooring line. Kate kept one hand in the air and lowered the other to the helm.

  “Now!” she shouted.

  Thomas slammed the ax into the mooring cable, slicing through it with one blow.

  Kate had both hands on the helm. She slid her fingers over the constructs, pressing down hard, flooding every part of the boat with magic that sparked along the leather wires, flowed over the lift tanks, and lit the balloon. As the airscrews whirred, the lift tank glowed a brilliant blue.

  “Hang on!” she warned, gripping the helm. “This will be rough!”

  Thomas grabbed hold of the rigging. Phillip threw his arms around the mast. The ferry soared into the air, carried rapidly aloft by wind and magic.

  Below them, musket fire erupted. Balls whistled through the rigging, clattered on the deck, and smashed into the hull. Kate ducked as best she could, still keeping one hand on the helm. She caught hold of the bosun’s whistle, put it to her lips, and blew three frantic blasts.

  “I hope you are there, Dalgren!” Kate said softly. “I hope you are there!”

  The marines fired again. She heard a thunk, and one of the airscrews clattered to a stop. The ferry lurched and began to list, causing two of the barrels stacked on the port side of the boat to topple over and go rolling across the deck straight toward Thomas, who was still hanging on to the rigging.

  Thomas saw his peril and let go, flinging himself to one side, landing on his belly beneath the mast. The barrels rolled harmlessly past and smashed into the benches, where they broke apart, scattering ugly gray chunks of rock over the deck. Kate was crouched beneath the helm, using it for cover. She longed to look for Dalgren, but she didn’t dare. He should have been here by now.

  “Come on, Dalgren!” Kate urged. “Where are you?”

  She braced herself for the next volley of gunfire, but it never came. Instead she heard an angry roar, followed by terrified screams.

  “Thank God!” Kate whispered and ran to the rail.

  The dragon burst out of the fog, fire flaring from his nostrils. The marines on board the pinnace were thrown into confusion. Some flung down their weapons, while others attempted to shift their aim to the dragon, only to collide with their fellows in the crowded pinnace. A few shots went off. Dalgren ignored them as a human ignores gnats. He roared again, sucked in a breath, and spat a jet of fire at the pinnace.

  The helmsman ran for his life, as the helm burst into flame, disrupting the magical constructs. The lift tanks failed, the airscrews stopped. The pinnace crashed into the docking arm, spilling marines, and sending the dockworkers running for their lives.

  Dalgren roared again and circled the refinery, glaring down menacingly, letting everyone know the fight was over. Kate put the bosun’s pipe to her lips, to give the signal that she was safe, only to drop it.

  The balloon had been hit and it was starting to sag, the chambered panels collapsing.

  “Look out!” Kate cried.

  Thomas was lying on the deck right beneath it. He looked up in time to see the balloon tear loose from its moorings and fall. He disappeared beneath a torrent of green silk and rope.

  “Thomas!” Phillip cried, running to help.

  “Get this off me!” Thomas shouted, his voice muffled by the silk. Phillip started tugging at the remnants of the balloon, trying to drag the heavy folds off his friend.

  “You could help me!” he yelled at Kate.

  “Serves him right,” she muttered.

  She was making adjustments at the helm. The ferry could still sail, even without the balloon and missing an airscrew. She was increasing the flow of magic to the lift tank when she heard the loud hissing sound.

  Kate had sailed on ships since she was a little girl. She knew what the sound meant. She had no need to look.

  Putting the bosun’s pipe to her lips, she blew three long blasts and two short.

  Dalgren would understand the signal. One word.

  “Sinking.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Kate could hear Thomas thrashing about beneath the silk and swearing, and she smiled. If he had breath enough to swear, he must not be badly injured. She hurried over to inspect the lift tank, to see how badly it was damaged. She had to kick aside some of the crystals that had spilled from the broken barrels and thought bitterly that she might as well have been kicking aside diamonds.

  She could still hear the ominous hissing sound and tracked it to its source—a bullet hole had pierced the lift tank. Elisha had not gone to the expense of protecting it with magical constructs.

  “Not surprising,” Kate remarked ruefully. “Poor fellow probably never expected people to be shooting at him.”

  If anything about this disastrous situation could be called fortunate, it was the fact that the bullet had hit a seam in the metal tank, which had the effect of reducing the size of the hole.

  Kate glanced at the regulator that measured the pressure of the gas in the tank. The needle was falling, but very slowly. She had time.

  Leaving the tank, she reluctantly went to talk to Pip, who had finally managed to free Thomas.

  “Are you all right?” Phillip asked, as his friend emerged, gasping, from beneath the folds of the ruptured balloons.

  “Yes, now that I can breathe.”

  Thomas straightened and looked around. “What was that strange roaring sound I heard? And what happened to the Guundarans?”

  “Meet Dalgren,” said Kate.

  The dragon soared into view, flying up from beneath the ferry. Thomas staggered backward, bumping into Pip, who put out a steadying hand. The two gazed at the dragon in astonishment while Dalgren regarded them with equal perplexity.

  “Where did those two come from?” he demanded. “Who are they?”

  “No time to explain!” Kate yelled. “A bullet punctured the lift tank! The boat is sinking!”

  “Then get off it!” Dalgren growled.

  He indicated with a jerk of his head the ladder still hanging from the saddle.

  “Not yet!” she cried. “I’m going to try to reach that island. The one that looks like Kristal Island. Where you found the Victorie!”

  Dalgren’s eyes narrowed. He was trying to figure out what she meant. The island on which he had found Victorie had been nameless, just another hunk of rock. And none of the islands around here looked anything like the islands of the Aligoes. Kate didn’t dare say anything more for fear she would give away her plan.

  “Do you know what I mean?” she shouted.

  Dalgren apparently did, for he muttered something in his own language. Fire flickered from the corners of his mouth.

  “I know! And I don’t like it! You need to get off there now!” Dalgren roared. His lips drew back, showing his fangs. “It’s not worth risking your life—”

  “I’ll signal you when I’m ready,” Kate called.

  She fixed Dalgren with a look and he snapped his mouth shut.

  Kate turned to her passengers and was glad to see
that both had accepted with equanimity the dire news that the boat was sinking. Both appeared far more interested in the dragon.

  “That’s your Rosian friend,” said Phillip. “The one you told me about.”

  “Yes, that’s Dalgren,” said Kate. “Now here’s the plan—”

  “How can you make out what he’s saying?” Thomas asked, interrupting. “I know he’s saying something, but his words are so much mush.”

  “You get used to it,” said Kate, exasperated. “Now listen to me! We don’t have much time. One of the bullets hit the lift tank. The ship is sinking.”

  “That much I understood,” said Thomas coolly. He looked over at the islands that were yet some distance away. “Do we have enough lift gas to reach land?”

  “I’m going to try,” said Kate. “But if we don’t, we’ll have to abandon ship. Dalgren can carry us off.”

  “Not in his teeth, I hope,” said Thomas.

  Kate hid her smile. “We climb the ladder.”

  She pointed to the ladder hanging from the saddle. She had never realized before how flimsy the ladder looked, flapping and twisting in the wind. She herself was a bit daunted. Phillip was appalled.

  “Good God!” he murmured.

  Thomas regarded the ladder with a critical eye. “What’s it made of?”

  “Braided leather,” said Kate.

  “It won’t bear the weight of all three of us.”

  “It doesn’t have to,” Kate explained. “If we need to abandon ship, one of us can climb up to the saddle, leaving the other two hanging on to the ladder. Dalgren won’t have to carry us far. Braffa is only twenty miles away.”

  The dragon circled overhead, glaring down at her. Every so often, he would shoot flames from his nostrils.

  “I don’t think your friend likes this plan,” said Phillip.

  “He doesn’t have to like it,” Kate said. “He knows what he needs to do.”

  She went back to the helm, hoping to keep the boat afloat for as long as possible. Thomas walked over to inspect the lift tank.

  “Staring at it won’t help,” Kate told him irritably. “One of you needs to chop down that mast.”

  Thomas looked at her, startled. “The mast? Are you sure?”

  “The damn boat’s sinking anyway,” said Kate. “Dalgren has to drop down low enough for us to catch hold of the ladder and he can’t do that with the mast poking him in the belly.”

  She concentrated her attention on the helm. Judging by the rate they were sinking and the distance they had left to travel, reaching the island would be a near thing.

  “All these beautiful crystals and we’re sinking.” Phillip picked up one of the ugly gray rocks, then said suddenly, “Here’s an idea! The Rosians use these crystals in their warships. Why can’t we use them in this ferry? We could place a crystal in the lift tank…”

  He saw Kate shake her head and his voice trailed off.

  “The tank is too small. The gas is leaking too fast. The magical constructs on the tank are designed to work with gas, not crystals. Should I go on?”

  “No,” said Phillip.

  Tossing aside the crystal, he picked up the axe, and began hacking away at the base of the mast.

  Kate rested her hands on the brass helm and sighed. She had done about all she could do.

  A hand covered her hand. Startled, Kate looked up.

  “You should leave the boat now,” said Thomas. “I know you’re lying. The ladder won’t hold our weight. Don’t worry about Pip and me. It is our fault you are in this fix.”

  He was facing a terrible death, yet his touch was warm, his hand firm and strong. His remarkable blue eyes smiled.

  He isn’t the least bit afraid, Kate realized. Or if he is, he has his fear well under control. Her breath came fast. Feeling her hand tremble at his touch, she angrily tried to snatch it away. She considered telling him she wasn’t interested in saving his life, and only cared about completing her mission. But that might give too much away.

  “The ladder is standard issue from the Dragon Brigade,” she said instead. “Dragon riders perform maneuvers like this all the time. Let go of me!”

  “Have you ever done it?” Thomas asked, looking into her eyes.

  “All the time,” Kate snapped. “You just have to remember to hold on tight.”

  “Hold on tight.” Thomas smiled. He released her hand. “I’ll remember that.”

  “Watch out!” Phillip yelled.

  The mast crashed down on the deck, taking the rigging and sail down with it. Kate measured the distance to the island. She was thinking now they just might make it.

  She summoned Phillip, who had to climb over the ropes and canvas to reach them, and explained her plan.

  “When Dalgren is in position, Pip will climb the ladder and sit in the saddle…”

  Phillip looked up at the saddle, then at the ladder, and gulped.

  “You go first, Kate,” he said. “You know how I am about heights.”

  “I know that on board the Royal Justice, you and Alan used to race each other up the ratlines,” said Kate.

  “Not when I was sober,” Phillip protested.

  “Anyway, I have to be the last to leave,” Kate continued. “I need to stay at the helm to keep the boat aloft until we reach land.”

  “Why would that make a difference?” Thomas asked. “We still have to abandon ship. From here to the ground is a hell of a long way down.”

  Kate faced the two, hands on her hips. Her tone was grim. “That is the plan and no more arguments. Pip, you will climb up first. Once you reach the saddle, make certain the ladder is secure. Thomas, you go next and I will be last. Any questions?”

  Phillip opened his mouth, caught her look, and shut it again. Thomas might not have even heard her. He was smiling at her, looking at her in a way no man had ever looked at her before. Kate felt her cheeks burn. His admiration was disconcerting and, right now, annoying.

  “Pip, go see how much gas is left in the lift tank. The regulator is on the side.”

  Phillip did as he was told, leaving her alone with Thomas.

  “How do you know Pip?” she asked.

  “I could ask you the same,” Thomas said.

  Kate glanced back at her friend: the ne’er-do-well clerk, the scapegrace, the gambler who always lost, the drunken clown.

  “I’m not sure I do know him,” Kate said. “You look like a soldier, even if you don’t dress like one. I’m thinking you’re a mercenary, hired to steal the crystals.”

  “That’s as good a story as any,” said Thomas.

  “Who hired you?”

  “Who hired you?” Thomas countered.

  Phillip hastened back. “The lift tank is almost empty.”

  Looking down, Kate saw they were over the island. She just needed to nudge the boat along a little farther, to ensure it would land in the thick foliage. She lifted the bosun’s pipe to her lips and gave the signal.

  Dalgren flew down, flying as close to the ferry as he dared. Phillip stood poised to catch hold of the ladder when it came within reach. He glanced over at her.

  “I’m glad to see you left the Aligoes, Kate,” he said. “You were mixed up with some extremely dangerous people.”

  Kate ignored him. “Don’t look down. Climb slowly and steadily. Thomas, take hold of the ladder to keep it from swinging. And remember, Pip—hold on tight!”

  “Trust me on that!” Phillip said grimly.

  The bottom rung of the ladder was now a few feet off the deck. He drew in a breath and caught hold of it. Thomas steadied the ladder for him, but even so the ladder kept shifting and Phillip had difficulty putting his foot into the rung.

  Kate was watching the constructs on the lift tank. When the tank was empty, the magic would stop working. The blue glow was definitely starting to fade. The ferry was now sailing over the tops of the trees and they were coming closer than she liked.

  She looked back at Phillip, who had at last managed to insert his foot into
the rung and was starting to climb, pulling himself up hand over hand. At one point the ladder twisted and sagged. Phillip froze and Kate ran to help Thomas hold it.

  “You’re going too fast!” she called. “Slow down!”

  Phillip gripped the ladder, his knuckles white, his eyes squinched shut. The motion stopped and he opened his eyes and once more began climbing.

  “You owe me an extremely large whiskey!” he called to Thomas.

  “I look forward to paying!” Thomas yelled.

  Dalgren was trying to keep as still as possible, his wings barely moving. He anxiously watched Phillip’s progress.

  At last Phillip reached the saddle and, after a brief struggle, managed to pull himself into it. Kate looked back at the lift tank and saw the magical blue glow flicker out.

  “The tank is empty,” she told Thomas. “Now you—”

  He grabbed hold of her, his hands around her waist. Hoisting her off the deck, he flung her at the ladder. She had to catch hold of the rungs to avoid falling. While she was clinging to the ladder, Thomas began scooping up crystals as fast as he could and stuffing them in his pockets.

  “You— What the devil are you doing?” Kate gasped.

  Thomas paid no attention to her.

  “The ship is sinking!” Kate cried. “Catch hold!”

  Thomas grinned up at her, stuffed a few more crystals into his pockets, then made a leap for the ladder. Grabbing hold, he thrust his foot into the lowest rung just as the ferry dropped out of the sky.

  Kate tried to see where it landed. Instead, she found herself looking into bright blue eyes. Thomas put his other foot in the rung, then pulled himself up so that the top of his head was about level with her chin. He had his arms around her, gripping the ladder.

  “You are a damn fool!” Kate said. “Risking your life for a few crystals!”

  “I only need a few,” said Thomas. The wind snatched his words away and blew his black hair into his eyes. He smiled at her. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

 

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