Victorie blinked as Annabel's masque spell wavered and vanished. “I think it's too late,” the major said as her own masque disappeared.
Annabel pulled her hand away from her sword when she saw the three guardsmen in the doorway. Standing in front of them was a man in a Svendaran Navy gold and black dress uniform. “There were are!” he said as he tucked a charm into his coat pocket. “I always prefer to see who I'm really dealing with.”
“Jonsson,” Victorie said through clenched teeth.
“Who?” Annabel said.
“The head of Svendaran naval intelligence.”
Jonsson smiled. “Thank you for the introduction. And this is—” He gestured at the airship. “The Emperor Gylfard.”
“Your emperor had it named it after himself?” Victorie murmured. “Charming.”
“I think he might be overcompensating for something,” Annabel said.
“What's wrong?” Jonsson asked sarcastically. “You don't like our new airship?”
“The shape could be a tad more aerodynamic,” Victorie said calmly. “Rushed design, I take it.”
“And that figurehead looks like it was carved by a lust-ridden teenager with a chipped knife,” Annabel added.
“Such a smart mouth.” Jonsson shook his head. “How did you ever get involved with such a disreputable pirate, Major Brassfeld?”
Victorie raised an eyebrow. “Does my reputation precede me?”
“No.” Jonsson stepped aside. “Your fellow Navy man did.” He nodded as Sebastian Woolcott stepped into the hangar.
“Woolcott?” Victorie stared at her colleague, feeling her heart sink.
“Well, well, Brassfeld,” Woolcott said. “I could have told you that working with that pirate would lead to no good.”
“Better than being a turncoat,” Annabel hissed.
“Brave talk from one in your position. After all, you didn't seriously question how it was so easy to get in to the hangar.” Woolcott smiled. “Or how Svendar knew that the Amulet of Glena was going on display.”
“You bastard,” Annabel said softly.
“Why, Woolcott?” Victorie asked. “Why are you betraying Cerindel?”
“The money, of course.” Woolcott chuckled. “And a chance at revenge.”
Woolcott paced around the hangar. “The Admiralty didn't just deny me a promotion after that incident, Brassfeld,” he said. “They blackballed me, made sure that I would never move up in rank. My promising career, gone...” he said with a sneer as he walked up to Victorie. “All because of your damned father.” Woolcott backhanded Victorie, knocking her to the floor.
“Torie!” Annabel shouted. Two guardsmen grabbed her as she tried to get to Victorie's side.
“What shall we do with them, Sebastian?” Jonsson said.
“I have a plan,” Woolcott said as Victorie glared at him, “but we need to get this test launch started if we're to finish before sunset. Chain them up in the supply room. We'll deal with them when we return.” The guardsmen nodded and grabbed Annabel and Victorie.
The women had been clapped in iron chains, shackles that were threaded through the rods in the shelves. Both doors to the supply room were locked behind them, their weapons left on shelves out of their reach. They were chained facing each other, close enough to touch.
As the guardsmen's footsteps faded, Annabel sighed. “Aye, we're in it now,” she said, staring at the floor. “Make no mistake. What do you think they'll do with us?”
“I'm guessing...” Victorie paused, gathering her thoughts. “Woolcott will have me killed. He's too much of a coward to get his hands dirty that way. He'll make it look like you did the deed, turn you over to the Consulate, and get to play the hero for capturing you and collect your bounty.”
“He'll have to kill me first,” Annabel said with a quiet fury.
“Perhaps he will,” Victorie said. “Annabel? There is something I've been meaning to ask you.”
“Might as well ask now, then. What did you want to know?”
“Is 'Skyblade' the name you were born with?” Victorie half-smiled. “It's rather unusual.”
Annabel returned the major's smile. “Of course not.”
“What is your real name, then?”
“Annabel Quinn Gallagher.”
Victorie raised her eyebrow. “That's an unusual name.”
“My parents named me for a character in one of their favorite stories.” Annabel winked. “Apparently, she was a pirate as well.”
“Ah. Inspiration.”
“Of a sort.”
Victorie nodded. “I still can't believe that Woolcott betrayed us.” She looked away. “I never knew he hated Papa so much.”
“Victorie?” Annabel asked. “What happened to your father?”
“He...” Victorie blinked. “We think it was some sort of infection. He took ill and died the week before I graduated from the Academy and earned my commission.”
“Nay,” Annabel said softly. “I'm sorry, Torie.”
The major looked back. “It's not your fault at all,” she said with a sad smile, “but thank you. But 'Torie'?”
“I...”
“Only Papa ever called me that.”
Annabel blushed. “If I've overstepped my bounds again...”
“It's all right,” Victorie said. “You're welcome to call me that if you wish.”
The pirate nodded. “Torie...” Annabel's blush deepened. “You know...when I kissed you earlier?”
“Yes?”
“You...you were my first.” Annabel blinked. “That was my first kiss.”
“It was?” Victorie felt her heart start to race.
“Aye. I never cared much for a man's touch, and I thought that I'd never want a lover, and all the complications that came with one. But then I met you, and I realized what I'd been missing.”
Annabel blinked. “And you're unlike anyone I've ever met, Torie,” she said. “You're smart and witty and brave, and...you're beautiful.”
“Me?” Victorie said.
“Your hair, your eyes, that little smile...” Annabel looked up at Victorie. “But it matters not.”
“Annabel—”
“I knew it after I kissed you.” Annabel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back a tear. “We're from different worlds. You're a Navy officer, and I'm a pirate. You could never feel the way I do. I know that deep down inside.”
Victorie swallowed slightly. “Annabel...” she said. “You are quite the mischievous scamp.”
“Am I, now?”
“Yes,” Victorie said firmly. “You have broken a large number of laws. You are reckless, impulsive, and a touch foolish. And...”
“Aye?” Annabel looked away.
“You are also quite lovely. And loyal, and clever.” Victorie smiled warmly. “I'd never met anyone I wanted to kiss me before, until I met you.”
Annabel jerked her head up and looked into Victorie's gray eyes. She saw that Victorie's blush matched her own, and felt both their hearts racing as they pressed together. “Torie...” Annabel said, matching the major's smile.
“And if I was the one lucky enough to get your first kiss...” Victorie blinked. “Foolish though it may be, I want to be the one who gets the second kiss, and the third, and all your kisses after that.”
Annabel pulled her arm forward and managed to touch Victorie's cheek. “As you wish, Torie,” she said.
Victorie pulled closer to Annabel, her lips parting. “Very much so,” she whispered.
They kissed, softly at first, then more passionately. Annabel heard her heart beating in her ears as Victorie pressed against her, felt the closeness of their bodies, and something deep inside of her awoke.
Victorie broke the kiss. “I don't know how we're going to do it,” she said, “but we need to act, and quickly.”
“Aye,” Annabel said, fire in her eyes. “We need to get out of these irons, get out of this locked room, sneak on board that airship, stop Jonsson's plans, find the Amulet of Glena
and haul Woolcott in.”
“That does just about cover it,” Victorie said.
“Let's get started, then.” Annabel lifted her leg. “Help me get this boot off.”
“What?” Victorie snapped. “Annabel, this is no time for something kinky.”
“I know,” Annabel said calmly. “So get on with it.”
“But why do you need me to take your boot off?”
Annabel grinned. “Because it's where I keep my lockpicks.”
Chapter Six
“There.” Annabel stood up and wiped the sweat away as the door to the storage room popped open. She took her weapons from Victorie, thanking her as she put on her belts.
“You seem quite handy with those lockpicks,” Victorie said as she buckled her swordbelt and loosened her pistolere in its holster.
“I've had practice, and that's all I'll say in the matter.” Annabel grinned as she softly opened the door.
Victorie moved next to the pirate. She glanced up and down the hallway, looked back at Annabel and nodded. Annabel returned her nod, and the women started down the hall.
Two men were standing at one end of the hallway, engaged in a loud and bawdy conversation, their backs to the women. They wore fur coats with tall matching hats. “Guardsmen,” Victorie murmured.
“That gives me an idea,” Annabel whispered as she reached inside her coat. Victorie smiled and drew her dagger.
They moved silently down the hall, their sounds drowned out by the guardsmen's chatter. “So you drilled her, eh?” one was saying.
“Not yet,” the other said, “but the day will come.”
“And so will she!” The two guardsmen chortled loudly, a sound that was cut off when Annabel and Victorie cold-cocked them from behind with the hilts of their daggers. The men dropped to the floor, out cold.
“After hearing them talk,” Victorie said as she started to remove one of the guardsman's coats, “it feels quite odd to be undressing them.”
“And these fur coats are too big for us,” Annabel said as she donned a guardsman's hat. “At least I can tuck my hair up in this.”
Victorie smiled slyly. “It looks good on you.”
“My arse it does. Come along.”
They moved down the hall, heading for the Emperor Gylfard. “Let's hope they don't look to closely at us,” Victorie said. “We're not exactly wearing regulation uniforms under these coats.”
“Torie?” Annabel pointed up. “The crew may have bigger concerns."
Victorie looked at the hangar's roof, which was slowly opening. “They're getting ready to cast off,” she said.
“We're in luck,” Annabel said. She ran towards the airship.
Victorie started to speak, but stopped when she saw the open door in the dreadnought's stern. As the airship started to slowly lift up, Victorie sprinted past Annabel, reaching the door ahead of the pirate.
She jumped as she reached the stern, grabbed the rail next to the door and wrestled herself inside. She looked out and saw Annabel, making a desperate leap; she leaned down and grabbed the pirate's arm. “Hold on!” she said.
Annabel gritted her teeth and stretched out her free arm as Victorie pulled, trying her best not to look down as the airship rose. She managed to grab the rail; with Victorie's help, she set her feet down just inside the doorway. “Thank you,” she said as she gasped for breath.
“My pleasure.” Victorie smiled. “Now, we—”
“Seven hells! Guardsman!”
Victorie turned to see the doorway across from her and Annabel. A warrant officer was standing there, glaring at them. “Aye, sir?” Victorie said in a meek, high-pitched voice.
“What's that door doing open?” the officer growled.
“I don't know! Sir! We walked past here and saw it open! Sir!”
“Well, close it! Before you empty-headed idiots fall out!”
“Aye, aye, sir!” Victorie saluted as Annabel grabbed the door and started to wrestle it into place. The warrant office perfunctorily saluted in turn and marched off, muttering to himself.
“Empty headed idiot, am I?” Annabel snapped.
“He doesn't know you.” Victorie smiled.
“Well, he may be right.” Annabel shook her head. “I'm the one stuck closing this damned door.” Victorie chuckled as she walked over to help Annabel.
They slipped out of the hold and started to walk along the corridor below decks. “Act like you belong here,” Victorie murmured. “If we do, the crew will be less inclined to stop us or question our presence.”
“Of course,” Annabel said. “I've done this before.”
Victorie raised an eyebrow. “Where?”
“Trust me, it's best you don't know.” Annabel stepped through an open doorway. “Take a look here.”
Victorie joined Annabel and glanced around the room. It was a hangar, with a large door set in the hull, and four airships with inflated balloons. “Cutter class,” she said. “But what for?”
“Lifeboats, maybe. In case the captain needs a quick way out.”
“Remember where this is,” Victorie said as she started out. “We'll probably need one of these later—”
“Wait!” Annabel grabbed Victorie and pulled her back into the hangar.
“What the devil—” Before Victorie could continue, Annabel set her finger on the major's lips. She pointed towards the hall; Victorie glanced out and shrank back.
A trio of crewmen hurried past the doorway and continued down the hall. Behind them was the man in the golden mask. “Bloody Hell,” Victorie muttered as he strode out of sight.
“Somehow, I'm not surprised by this,” Annabel said.
“Neither am I. Keep quiet, and keep moving.” Victorie glanced up and down the hall, then set off again, Annabel following closely.
The hallway dead-ended in a set of double doors that were guarded by two unhappy-looking goblins and flanked by two flights of stairs. The women headed up one flight and came out on deck, near the bow. “What next?” Victorie said.
“We need to get a better look at that bowsprit if we can,” Annabel said.
“That might get tricky.” Victorie pointed at the rail that had been set up on the deck, forty feet before the ship's prow. A crowd of crewmen had gathered there.
“Stand back!” one of the crew was saying. “Don't get any closer! That gadgeteer warned us about what could happen when this goes off!”
“Goes off?” Annabel said softly as they took a spot on the rail, a few yards away from the crew.
Victorie's eyes narrowed. “Like a pistolere? Or that thunder gun?”
Annabel swerved her head. “And that could be a target,” she said.
They were several hundred yards away from an airship that hovered motionlessly. The masts and side-sails were all broken, except for the main mast. The mainsail, which bore a dragon with its tail wrapped around the skull and crossbones, had been slashed and defaced. “Is there someone...tied to the mast?” Victorie said.
“Gods,” Annabel said slowly, studying the half naked man with the pointed goatee, struggling against his bonds as he cursed at the Svendarans. “It's Captain Francis Hynde. And that's his ship, the Golden Drake.”
“They caught him at last?”
“Aye. Francis preferred plundering Svendaran ships. He liked the ale.”
“And murdering and raping his captives,” Victorie said grimly.
“He was a right bastard,” Annabel said. “Fellow pirate or not, I'm not sorry they caught him.”
“But what are they doing?” Victorie asked, half to herself. “Why not just execute him?”
“Look alive!” Victorie turned her head to see the ship's mate standing behind them. “The test is starting!”
“Test?” Annabel whispered.
The deck began to vibrate, softly at first, then sharper. “Grab the rail,” Victorie said, barely audible over the growing hum.
Annabel took hold of the railing as she looked at the bowsprit. “Gods and devils,”
she said, her face turning pale.
Magical energy, eldritch and blinding white, looped around the bowsprit. Sparks flew off, bursting brightly, the sailors that stood closest to the prow blinking out the light. Annabel felt her skin prickling, her sensitivity to magic flaring.
A bolt of lightning shot from the tip of the bowsprit; thunder roared as the dreadnought shook. The bolt flew straight at the pirate ship, smashing through the hull, sending shattered planks flying.
The lightning scorched Francis Hynde, burning him horribly, leaving him torn and bloody but still alive. His screams of pain and terror could be heard as the Golden Drake plummeted towards the ocean thousands of feet below, its final resting place, and his.
The Emperor Gylfard's crew cheered as they watched, laughing and singing until the ship's mate broke up the celebration. They went to work inspecting the airship for damage and signs of stress. By then, AnnabeI and Victorie had slipped away.
The women walked into a quiet storage room below decks. Annabel closed the door behind her and fell back against it. “Are you all right?” Victorie asked.
“I...” Annabel shook her head. “Those screams...”
Victorie nodded. “A gigantic thunder gun. It's...” She took a deep breath. “It's like the legend of Glena. How she called lightning from the sky.”
“The amulet is helping to power the gun, then.” Annabel gritted her teeth. “Hynde was a bastard, but he didn't deserve to die as he did. No one does.”
“We need to stop them,” Victorie said. “Before they can use this on other airships.”
“Or on other people.” There was fire in Annabel's eyes. “Cities and towns, children and innocents. It won't happen. Not on my watch.”
“Annabel...” Victorie closed her eyes. “You know we might not make it off this ship alive.”
“Aye.” Annabel took Victorie's shoulder. “Then let's do this together, Torie. Let's wreck their plans, and may those we save someday lift a glass to our deeds, our memories.”
Victorie half-smiled. “And let's stop some evil bastards before we go.”
Annabel grinned. “That's the spirit!” She gave Victorie a quick kiss. “For good luck,” she added. Victorie smiled as the two women left the room.
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