“Of course,” said Phillip, chastened. “I had not considered that. I have caused you trouble enough. I will keep the secret for as long as you tell me to keep it.”
“Good,” said Thomas, his expression grim. “That is all I ask. And now, we have said enough on this subject. We should find that village.”
He picked up the sack of crystals, flung it over his shoulder, and stalked off. Phillip trailed after him. Leaving the barren shoreline, heading east, they walked in silence, searching for the road that led to the village.
Searching for a road that would lead them back to what had been and never would be again.
THIRTY-ONE
Kate and Dalgren returned the next day to the island where she had left the ferry dangling from the treetops. The branches had broken its fall so that the boat remained relatively intact, though it hung at a precarious angle. As Kate had foreseen, most of the barrels had fallen off. She found a couple still snagged among the trees, but the rest lay shattered on the ground, surrounded by spilled crystals.
Kate was eager to start salvaging, fearing the Guundaran navy would initiate a search and discover either the wreckage or Dalgren. The plan was for the dragon to drop Kate off on the island, then spend the day in hiding.
She kept watch on the skies while she marked the location of the crystals, but she saw no sign of either the Braffans or the Guundarans, and she relaxed. The area they would have to search was vast. They might even assume that the ferry had gone down in the Breath and not search at all.
Salvaging the crystals proved to be an arduous task. First Kate had to find them, which meant tromping about in the underbrush. Then she had to pick them up and put them in gunnysacks, ready to load onto Dalgren, who returned for her at nightfall. And since he had no place to land, Kate had to make several trips up and down the ladder, hauling the filled gunnysacks.
Kate crawled through the brush, knocked broken barrels out of the trees, and dumped crystals in sacks, she had time for thinking, for the work was mindless. She wondered a great deal about Phillip and his sudden transformation from drunken bungler to daring, coolheaded thief. Which was the real Phillip? Kate was inclined to think the latter, which meant he had been acting a part the entire time she had known him. Judging by his mysterious message, he was working for Sir Henry and he knew that she too was working for Sir Henry.
She recalled Phillip telling her in Wellinsport that he didn’t know Sir Henry and trying to deter her from attacking the ship on which Henry was sailing. Kate was inclined to resent the fact that Phillip had lied to her, and then she remembered that she had lied to him, and she grinned. She supposed they could call it even. But then who had hired Phillip and the mysterious Thomas to steal the crystals? Kate knew it wasn’t Henry, because he had hired her. So what was Phillip doing for Henry and why was he quitting?
And who was the mysterious Thomas?
His refusal to tell her his name, and the hints at a dark and secret past, only increased her interest. She could tell by his speech he was a gentleman and she guessed by his bearing and the scar on his face that he was or had been a soldier. He was bold, courageous, resourceful, and daring. She remembered the two of them clinging to the ladder. She had seen admiration in those striking blue eyes—for her. He was attracted to her, in her slops and her calico with her windblown hair.
She now blushed to think of that kiss she had given him. He had thought himself so clever, filling his pockets with crystals, leaving her with nothing. She had he hoped he would be confounded. Maybe he had been, at first, but then he had tried to kiss her back.
“I wonder what it would be like to kiss him again?” Kate mused.
When she caught herself wondering if he would like to kiss her again, she angrily put the mysterious Thomas with the blue eyes out of her mind.
Once she had finally recovered as many of the crystals as she could find, she and Dalgren set up camp in a secluded valley outside Port Vrijheid. The dragon needed to rest before they flew back to Freya, and Kate had one more task to perform.
She fidgeted about until she thought Dalgren was asleep, taking his afternoon nap. Seeing him snugly curled into a ball, his tail wrapped around his body with the tip touching his nose, Kate changed out of her slops and into the dress she had worn when she went to meet Mrs. Lavender. She even put on the new green hat, even though it didn’t match the dress, and remembered to wear the gloves to cover her hands.
Glancing at Dalgren, seeing his eyes closed, she stealthily slipped two crystals out of his saddlebags and began to wrap them in a kerchief.
“What are you doing with those?” Dalgren asked.
Kate jumped and looked around, annoyed. “No one will miss them.” She stuffed the kerchief with the crystals into the reticule. “I’m going out.”
Dalgren’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t sell them, Kate. The authorities will be keeping watch for you.”
“I’m not going to sell them. I know what I’m doing. Just go back to sleep,” said Kate irritably. “We’ll leave when I get back.”
“If you’re not in prison,” Dalgren grumbled.
Kate returned to Threadneedle Street and entered Mrs. Lavender’s hat shop. Mrs. Lavender was with a customer. She gave Kate a welcoming smile, and asked her to wait. Kate went to the window and stood keeping watch. She didn’t really think anyone would have recognized her, but Dalgren’s ominous words had made her nervous.
“I am sorry to keep you waiting, madame,” said Mrs. Lavender in formal tones. “I presume you have come in regard to your overdue account? If you would be so kind as to step into my office, we can discuss the matter.”
Mrs. Lavender steered Kate through a curtained door, down a short hall and into a very small office. Closing the door, Mrs. Lavendar gave Kate a swift embrace.
“I am so relieved to see you alive!” she said. “Everyone is saying that the Elisha Jones sank and those who had stolen the crystals sank with it! I was afraid we had lost you.”
“As you see, safe and sound,” said Kate. “But the story about the ferry sinking is good. That means no one will be looking for me.”
“You can rest assured of that—in more ways than one,” said Mrs. Lavender with a chuckle. “The loss of the crystals is a huge embarrassment for the Braffans and the Guundarans. They will not admit now that the crystals ever existed. And so your mission was a success?”
In answer, Kate drew out the kerchief and unwrapped it, revealing the two crystals. “The story about the Elisha Jones sinking is true. I managed to salvage the crystals, but the ferry was a complete loss. I was wondering if you could find a way to sell these and see to it that Elisha has a new boat. He was only doing his job. He shouldn’t be the loser.”
“Very commendable. Of course I will,” said Mrs. Lavender, regarding Kate with a warm smile of approval. “I have friends in the black market who will be glad to pay top price.”
“Elisha mustn’t know the money came from me,” said Kate. “He wouldn’t accept it.”
“I understand,” said Mrs. Lavender. Opening a desk drawer, she tucked the crystals inside and locked it. “I will make up a plausible story. Perhaps the refinery owners will take it into their heads to recompense him for his loss.”
“And please send a message to Captain Northrop. Tell him what happened,” said Kate. “Now, I must go. Thank you, Mrs. Lavender. Please take care of yourself.”
“And you and your dragon. And your two daring accomplices,” Mrs. Lavender added with a sly smile.
Kate was displeased. “Those two fools weren’t my accomplices. They nearly ruined everything.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you know if they managed to get away?”
“They must have,” said Mrs. Lavender. “No one has been arrested and, as I told you, everyone is saying the boat sank. And so these two were not working with you?”
The ringing of the bell on the door announced the arrival of another customer.
“I must go,” said Mrs. Lavender. “I am the only one in t
he shop today. If you ever need me…”
“I know,” said Kate, smiling. “Six taps.”
“Please give Sir Henry my regards.” Mrs. Lavender squeezed Kate’s hand and bustled off to sell hats.
* * *
Dalgren and Kate flew to Barwich Manor. Kate hid the saddlebags with the crystals in Dalgren’s cave, thinking that would be the safest place for them; then she traveled back to Haever and Miss Amelia’s house.
Kate found Amelia in an upstairs bedroom, packing her valise.
“Welcome home, Captain,” said Amelia, looking up from neatly folding her clothes. “Was your mission successful?”
“It was,” said Kate.
“I don’t suppose you can tell me about it,” said Miss Amelia.
Kate shook her head. “Where are you going?”
“I am traveling to northern Freya to meet with one of the dragons,” said Amelia. “Dalgren’s inquiries paid off. Please extend my thanks to him.”
She handed the letter from Odila to Kate, who read it over and frowned. “This dragon says she has information about Coreg. Are you sure you should be involved in this, Miss Amelia?”
“The story of a lifetime, my dear,” said Amelia.
Kate hesitated, then said, “He is more dangerous than we thought. I need to tell you what happened to me when I went to Barwich Manor.”
Amelia heard her serious tone and quit folding clothes.
“Trubgek found me,” said Kate. “He tracked me to Barwich Manor.”
“Tell me everything,” said Amelia.
Kate related how Trubgek had come to remind her she was working for Coreg, how he threatened her by nearly knocking down the house. “I told him I would. What else could I do?”
“Nothing, Captain,” said Amelia, regarding her with sympathy.
Kate didn’t mention that she intended to make money off this deal. She doubted if Amelia would be so sympathetic if she heard that.
“So you see, Miss Amelia, even though Coreg is far away in the Aligoes, he can still be dangerous,” Kate said.
Amelia locked the valise and turned to face Kate. “Now, Captain, do I tell you to run away from a little danger? Besides, he is threatening you. All the more reason to bring him down.”
“I wouldn’t call Coreg a ‘little’ danger,” Kate said drily. “Who is this Odila anyway?”
“The grande dame of the dragons who moved here from Travia. I would dearly love to tell you what I have discovered about Coreg. It is all most fascinating. But I see my transportation has arrived.”
Amelia was speaking about a wyvern-drawn carriage that could be seen and heard landing on the street outside the house.
“I do not want to keep the driver waiting,” she added. “Wyverns raise such a ruckus. The neighbors will complain.”
Kate looked out the window to see the wyverns screeching and snapping at each other, while the driver flicked the whip over their heads. Miss Amelia picked up the valise, hung the reticule over her arm, and hurried down the stairs. She grabbed the umbrella from the stand by the door on her way out, then hastened down the sidewalk and entered the carriage. She leaned out the window to wave to Kate with the umbrella as she left.
Shaking her head and smiling, Kate sat down to write a note to Sir Henry, telling him she had returned and that all had gone well. She sent the letter with a messenger, whom she asked to wait for the reply. While she waited, she took the green silk dress from the valise and put it on, to see how it looked with the new hat. She was admiring herself in the mirror when she heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was the messenger, she went downstairs, only to find Mr. Sloan.
“Sir Henry would like to see you at your earliest convenience, Captain,” said Mr. Sloan.
“I’m ready now,” said Kate.
Mr. Sloan accompanied Kate to the Foreign Office, and led her up the back stairs and straight to Sir Henry, who rose from his desk to greet her, even going so far as to shake hands.
“You said all went well, Captain,” said Henry, smiling broadly.
“Yes, my lord,” said Kate, pleased and proud. She lowered her voice. “Mrs. Lavender sends her regards.”
“I see you have a new hat,” said Henry. “The color is quite becoming. And where, may I ask, are the goods?”
Kate told him about the cave in Barwich, including directions.
“Mr. Sloan—” Henry began.
“I am already on the way, my lord,” said Mr. Sloan. “I trust I should send word to the admiralty for ships to return to Haever for refitting.”
“With the utmost haste,” said Henry, smiling.
“Call out to Dalgren before you go inside his cave, Mr. Sloan,” Kate warned. “You wouldn’t want to startle him.”
“No indeed, Captain,” said Mr. Sloan.
“The password is ‘Stephano,’” Kate added. “Dalgren will know I sent you.”
“Please, sit down, Captain,” said Henry after Mr. Sloan had departed. “I want to hear all about your adventures. Everything went as we planned?”
“Not exactly as planned, my lord,” said Kate.
“Tell me all,” said Henry. Resuming his seat behind his cluttered desk, he leaned back in his chair. “Omit no detail.”
“I captured the ferry without incident. The trouble began when we arrived at the refinery,” said Kate. “The oddest thing happened. Pip was there.”
“Pip,” Henry repeated, a puzzled expression on his face. “You speak as if I should know him.”
“He was one of the Rose Hawks,” said Kate. “He worked for Captain Northrop.”
Henry gave a bland smile. “Hundreds of men have worked for Alan over the years. I am afraid I do not know the gentleman. Now, proceed with your tale.”
He sat back at his ease, crossed his legs, and regarded her with pleasant expectation.
Kate was confused. If Pip hadn’t specifically mentioned Sir Henry and given her that strange message, she would have believed he was telling her the truth. As it was, she knew that he was lying and that he must have a good reason for lying. She began to feel uneasy, but she was determined to know more about what was going on. And she had to deliver the message.
“Pip was with a man named Thomas,” Kate persisted. “They were there to steal the crystals.”
She tried to think how to phrase the next delicately, not to accuse him of acting falsely, and decided just to come out with it. “Pip sent you a message, my lord.”
“Did he?” Henry asked blandly. He continued to smile, but the smile now seemed frozen, his eyes narrowed. “What could this unknown ‘Pip’ possibly have to say to me?”
Kate saw the shadow in the narrowed eyes and felt as if the scenic trail she had been walking had suddenly dropped her into a ravine. Looking at the man sitting in the chair, she saw the man in the ship’s hold who had coolly and deliberately placed the muzzle of his pistol against Jacob’s skull and pulled the trigger.
Henry’s largesse, his kindess to her, his bland smile and friendly interest, even the homely clutter on his desk, had blurred the sharp corners of that memory. Kate was now almost afraid to say the words.
She still wanted to know what was going on. And she had promised Phillip. She drew in a breath and let the words out all in a rush. “Pip said to tell you he quits. He was sorry, but he should have never accepted the job.” She wisely omitted the part about how Henry should have never asked him to take it.
As she spoke, she watched Henry’s facial muscles harden, the pupils of his eyes dilate, and his nostrils grow white and pinched. He rose slowly to his feet, not as though he willed himself to stand, but because he seemed compelled to do so.
Amelia had termed Sir Henry the most dangerous man in the world. Kate had thought her friend was exaggerating. Now, looking at his face, she believed it.
Henry placed the tips of his fingers on the desk and slightly leaned over, moving closer. Kate shifted uneasily in her chair and glanced behind her, to gauge her distance to the door.
; “The man who was with His Grace—”
“His Grace!” Kate gasped.
“The man you know as ‘Pip’ is Phillip Masterson, Duke of Upper and Lower Milton,” said Henry. “You are certain the name was Thomas.”
“Yes, my lord,” Kate replied.
“Surname?”
“He would not tell me…”
Henry stared at her, his brows coming together. He obviously did not believe her.
Kate tried to explain. “Everything happened so fast, my lord! Pip and Thomas jumped on board the ferry and the Guundarans began firing at us. Dalgren was roaring. The balloon collapsed. A bullet hit the lift tank and the ferry started sinking…”
Kate realized she was babbling and stopped, biting her lip.
“Describe him,” said Henry.
“Who, my lord? Pip?”
“Thomas!” Sir Henry said through gritted teeth.
Kate swallowed. “Early twenties. Black curly hair and … uh … blue eyes.”
“Striking blue eyes,” said Henry.
“Yes, my lord,” said Kate faintly.
Henry was livid with rage. Kate cast down her own eyes, so she wouldn’t have to look into that terrible face, and shrank in the chair, waiting for his fury to explode and hoping she survived the blast.
She heard him return to his chair and sit back down. He said nothing and Kate at last dared to look up.
Henry was gazing, frowning, at the bookcase. He appeared to have forgotten her. Hoping that was the case, she stood up as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb him, and began to edge toward the door.
“You did well, Captain,” said Henry, his voice tight, controlled. “I will be in touch.”
Kate paused. She knew she was probably making a dreadful mistake, but she couldn’t help herself. With her hand on the door handle, she turned around, greatly daring.
“My lord, who is this Thomas?” she asked.
“Good-bye, Captain,” said Henry. “Please close the door behind you.”
Kate did as she was told. Once in the hall, she found herself trembling so much that she had to take a moment to compose herself. She looked up and down the hall. She had no idea how to get out of the building, but she could not bear to stay another moment where she was.
Spymaster Page 36