Captain Fenna's Dirigible Valentine

by Heather Hiestand

  First, he had better signal the man, just in case he ran into Everard and the portable automaton. He climbed the ladder, waiting until all was silent on the deck before padding across and trying to peer into the captain’s cabin through a porthole. No lanterns were lit inside, and he knew he’d have to enter to check. He went to the cabin door and gently tried the knob, but it was locked from the inside. What he wouldn’t do for Terrwyn’s vaunted lockpicking skills about now. Why hadn’t he ever asked her for lessons? Too busy mooning over her, he supposed.

  He huddled in the doorway as the night watchman passed again, then was rewarded with the sound of a lusty cry that he knew well. Noelle. He pressed his ear to the door but silence resumed. She must have cried out then fallen back into a deeper sleep. Smiling, despite the danger, he crept back to the bow and hooted in the direction of the milkman. Stephen came out from the shadows and Ian leaned over the railing to whisper what he’d found, but he’d only just bent forward when the red light flared to life on his brass hand.

  His nightmare had restarted. How long until it would feel like he’d never escaped?

  They must have tightened the automac leash. His arm was scarcely a foot from the railing. He jerked back, cupping his good hand around his mouth for amplification.

  “She’s in the captain’s cabin, on the deck, under the wheelhouse,” he whisper-shouted.

  “Will you be able to get off the airship?”

  “No, my hand is reactivated.”

  Stephen looked up, then down. “Should I climb up and you can hand her down to me?”

  “We would need lockpicks, her to stay asleep through the operation, and insanely good luck.” Ian felt like he’d visualized this a thousand times in the past couple minutes and he couldn’t see a way he could take the baby off the airship. He didn’t care about himself but she had to be safely returned to her mother.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll tell the captain.” Stephen waved then disappeared back into the gloom.

  Ian heard boots again and crouched at the railing. Thankfully, the crewman didn’t care about his task and Ian was undiscovered. He had to get into the cabin, both to get Noelle but also to see if he could disable the automaton. If he could learn how to turn it off, he and every other impressed man aboard this airship, and others as well, could be freed. What a double victory that would be. They’d most likely turn on the officers and he could spirit the baby to safety.

  He crept back to the door, hoping he could use his knife to open the lock. A crewmate who had long since been killed in battle claimed he used to break into the captain’s cabin to steal whisky. From the fumes on the man’s breath much of the time he might have been telling the truth.

  Ian crouched at the door and pulled a knife from his boot. The long slim blade was one of four weapons he had on his body but the only one he might be able to jam along the door. He pushed it slowly in between the door and the frame, then started twisting the knob as silently as he could, while moving the knife up and down, trying to catch the locking mechanism at the right moment.

  When he heard boots again, he turned face first into the doorway until the man had passed, then began again. The watch had passed four times before he felt the doorknob twist in his hands. He was in!

  If only he could turn off the automaton, he could save Noelle before Stephen brought help. He’d be the sole hero Terrwyn had to appreciate. He took a cautious step into the cabin, then another, then closed the door behind him.

  “What do you want, Rand? I thought you were going to sleep below?” came a slurred male voice from the captain’s bed.

  As Ian froze, he heard a soft snuffling on the far side of the captain’s dining table. Noelle must be all the way across the room.

  “I came to check on my daughter,” Ian whispered, attempting to use the cadence of Hardcastle’s public school accent.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” Everard snorted.

  Ian heard the scrape of metal and the next thing he knew, the officer had opened a panel on a blackout lamp and he was caught in its light.

  Ian reached for his heater, but he still had the knife in his good hand. He dropped it and reached for his holster just as Everard’s drunken eyes narrowed.

  “You’re crew. Thief!”

  Ian unsnapped his holster, hoping he could reach the weapon before Everard found the portable automaton that had immobilized him when they had kidnapped Noelle.

  Instead, Everard lifted his own heater in the air, from where it had been resting all too conveniently alongside him. As Ian lifted his arm, Everard fired, jumping off the bed. The beam of light tore into Ian’s belly on the left side.

  He pressed one hand to the searing pain even as he fired his own weapon. Everard staggered from the bed and Ian backed away. As the officer’s knees crumpled, Ian felt something hard hit his back. He spun from the momentum. Everard kicked his legs out from underneath him and he fell, blacking out from the pain of impact on his heater wound. When he came to a moment later, he found himself splayed across the automaton.

  He turned, lifting his heater again, but his shifting body did something to the automaton, pressed one of the legs into his wound. As he groaned, he heard a click and he couldn’t move.

  Everard chuckled behind him. Hadn’t he even wounded the man? If only the automaton had immobilized his mind as well as his body. Ian could feel wet blood dripping from his side, though the wound should have been cauterized by the heater. The automaton’s spider leg must have done additional damage. He felt sweat sliding between his shoulder blades, felt the heater in his hand, but the weapon was worthless in his frozen grip. And ironically, he now knew the automaton was controlled by a switch, thanks to the clicking he’d heard.

  All this and Noelle slept only a foot or two away. That precious baby. Terrwyn’s baby, and he’d failed them both.

  Everard giggled drunkenly and pulled the heater from Ian’s numb hand. “I’d leave you like this forever, but we can’t keep the entire crew immobilized and this Dr. Castle masterpiece does have that effect.”

  Ian tried to respond but couldn’t move his mouth. He couldn’t close his eyes. Couldn’t make his ears not hear the chittering underneath him, nor the words of the drunken officer.

  “Still, I think I will get the sheriff first. Shouldn’t take a minute. He’ll want to know Miss Fenna is near.”

  Ian had hoped Everard had only recognized him as crew in the dim light of the lantern, but he’d have had no hope of being that lucky. The officer had seen him clearly enough that morning, though it seemed much longer since the confrontation in Hastings. Everard moved away and Ian heard the door close behind him. All was silent in the room. Even Noelle had fallen more deeply asleep again. He was grateful she remained undisturbed.

  Minutes passed and he thought he could hear a distant chugging in the sky above. Was he imagining it? Could it simply be the sound of his life’s blood leaving his body? He prayed that Noelle would sleep through whatever happened.

  But no, the chugging sound increased. An airship was passing overhead. Was it a letter carrier, a Blockader airship? He heard shouts carried distantly on the wind. Nothing directly around him, but Everard and Hardcastle might be the only free men on the Defender. He tested a limb but he was still immobilized.

  “Please let it be the Valentine,” he prayed. “Please let them come before I die.” Why hadn’t he told Stephen that he planned to break into the cabin? Why hadn’t he ever told Terrwyn how he felt about her? He’d die easier knowing he’d shared how special she was to him. He’d had hopes that someone other than his mother would remember him kindly when he was gone.

  ~*~

  CHAPTER SIX

  Terrwyn stood at the railing, staring down at the Defender. The night still held some warmth but her body felt cold, as if her blood wouldn’t flow properly again until she saw her daughter. Until she saw Ian. How had he slipped under her skin when she’d given up on men? She didn’t want him, yet he’d sacrificed his freedom for nothing more than in
formation. Information! He’d known he couldn’t recue Noelle alone. Thank the heavens he’d come across Stephen Warren. She’d told Ian she couldn’t count on him and she was right. When she needed his support and strength the most, he’d gone away, but for the most noble of reasons. Now that she knew where Noelle was, she could strike.

  When she pointed her spyglass down, she saw a man at one end of the deck, back by the engine. He wasn’t moving, though he held a lantern in one hand. A quilted uniform jacket told her he was crew and his bald spot revealed without a doubt that he wasn’t Ian, though she spotted the automac hand. After counting to one hundred and seeing that the crewman still hadn’t moved, she knew something was wrong. Bodies were meant to be in motion, yet nothing on the airship was moving. That new type of automaton must be on so that no Brass Hands could move. But why? Had Ian been discovered?

  Why hadn’t he waited for her to formulate a better plan than sacrificing himself? She had to get down there before he was beaten to death or shot. From what he’d described of his earlier immobilization experience, it had been horrifying. She slid her spyglass between her belt and her jacket then waved away the puffs of smoke. She didn’t need them to tell her the Blockaders were near this time.

  Thomas appeared at her side, holstering a heater. “Luke and Mr. Sellers are at the cannon as you ordered.”

  And Owen was at the helm, leaving her only one man in her attack party. But perhaps that was best, considering Noelle’s safety. She wanted the cannon ready to blow up the Defender engine so it couldn’t fly after them. If they had time and the ability to use the cannon strategically, she wanted to take out the other two airships in the field below as well.

  She held up the heavy coil of rope attached to a winch secured to the deck. “I’ll go down first. When I’m halfway down, you can start your descent. Don’t unsnap your holster until your boots hit the deck. Wind can do tricky things and we can’t risk losing weapons.”

  “Aye, captain.”

  Terrwyn climbed onto the railing, then dove off as Thomas gasped in shock. She grasped the thick rope in her gloved hands and flipped, her back to the rope as her legs wrapped around it, covered in thick, wide-legged wool trousers, then let herself flip again so that she descended the rope head first, her long black braid pointing at the deck of the enemy airship. A few feet from the bottom, she backflipped and landed with her heater already in her hand, just as she’d been taught.

  “A whore like you doesn’t deserve to be the mother of my child.”

  Rand’s voice hit her veins like lava. Hot rage heated her icy flesh and she whipped around, aiming the heater where she knew his heart would be.

  But instead of a dark suit jacket she saw the small bundle of her daughter tucked into her old tormenter’s hands. He must have come out on deck when she was descending the rope.

  Thomas dropped heavily to the deck behind her, falling back a few steps as he caught his balance.

  “And yet, I am her mother.” She controlled her voice with difficulty, remembering the hard training she’d had in Newgate Prison. “Give me my child.”

  Rand chuckled and tightened his grip. “You aren’t going to shoot me when I’m holding this precious little bundle.” He nuzzled Noelle’s face.

  “Why are you doing this?” Terrwyn asked. She sounded more like a concerned mother than a seasoned free trader, but after all, she was both, and she was terrified.

  “I’ve never been able to get a child on my wife, but she pretended to give birth early this year in Italy. I meant to take the child from you to raise it as our own, but you escaped first. Poor Mrs. Hardcastle has been pining away in Florence ever since, waiting for me to remedy the situation.”

  “Surely there’s a baby in an orphanage she could bring home.” She kept the heater trained on him, moving the barrel to his neck, away from Noelle.

  “Ah, but that wouldn’t be my child. My family goes back to the Normans, you know. It wouldn’t do. I’d prefer this little brat to be a boy, of course, but one works with what one can.”

  Noelle lifted her arm, raising her heater to aim at Rand’s head. How badly hurt would Noelle be if she fell from a corpse’s arms?

  Rand lifted Noelle to his shoulder and put his free hand into his pocket, then pulled out a palm-sized device shaped like a spider. “Dr. Castle’s Man Immobilizer,” he said grandly. “As soon as I turn it off, the crew will be able to fire the engines and we’ll take you back to Newgate Prison where you belong.”

  “Never!” Terrwyn cried, fisting her hand into the air.

  She’d given Mr. Sellers the signal, almost without realizing it. Dropping her heater, she leapt at Rand, hoping to wrest Noelle from his arms. She heard a thunderous click above. A concussive roar resounded, then wood sprayed into the air as the cannon ball hit the deck just behind Rand, rather than the engine yards away.

  Rand stumbled. One arm went into the air as he tried to maintain his balance. Terrwyn reached for Noelle, touching the edge of the blanket as Rand fell backward into the cannon-made hole, carrying the precious bundle with him. Terrwyn dove through splinters that dug into her skin, hoping somehow to catch her baby.

  The next thing she knew, she was hitting a hard surface. Her back bowed over something softer while her head cracked painfully against whatever she’d landed on. She heard her baby’s cry and flailed, twisting herself onto hands and knees. Rand was underneath her. They were on a large wood table. The cannon ball must have hit the deck above the airship’s galley. In the light of a swinging lantern, she saw Noelle’s blanket wrapped around Rand’s unmoving boot.

  She peered over the edge and saw that her baby was caught in the blanket, hanging with her back facing up. Thank God for Noelle’s shrill cries of rage! Terrwyn jumped to the floor and pulled at the blanket, then gently turned Noelle over.

  The baby’s eyes were squeezed shut, her fists tightened in anger. Terrwyn panted as she set the baby under the table and undid the wrappings, examining her as best she could. She didn’t see any wounds. Noelle raised her arms and Terrwyn clutched the precious child to her chest, kissing her dusty hair.

  Though she could feel the stings of small cuts on her own flesh, Noelle was fine, thanks to being covered by the blanket. And Rand?

  She rewrapped the softly wailing baby and crawled out from under the table. One glance showed that Rand’s head was at an unnatural angle. She put her fingers to his neck but couldn’t feel a pulse. He was gone.

  “Good riddance,” she muttered. “Noelle, you’ll never have to know the truth. I’m glad you’re so young.”

  At the edge of the table, she saw the automaton spider. Gingerly, she took it in one hand. She didn’t want to turn it off, for fear the crew would attack her while she was relatively defenseless.

  Thomas’s face appeared over the splintered deck. “Noelle?”

  “I have her.”

  He grinned. “I found some rope.” He tossed down one end as the cannon roared again.

  She flattened her torso over Noelle until the noise quieted. “Was their aim better this time?”

  “I’ll check.” Thomas disappeared, then reappeared a couple of minutes later. “Yes, the engine is gone.”

  With a sigh, she stood on the table and fastened the rope around Noelle’s blanket so Thomas could haul her up. When the baby was secure she climbed the rope and was soon kissing her baby again. “I really have to train them better. We could have both been killed.”

  “What about the man?”

  “Dead.”

  Thomas nodded. “I’m glad.”

  “Have you seen other officers?”

  “No, no one.”

  “Captain Fenna!”

  She heard the hail from below the airship. When she reached the rail, she saw Jacob Warren with several other men. They were armed with a variety of weapons.

  “Permission to come aboard,” she said, “but there could be armed crew, though we haven’t seen any.”

  “Where’s Ian?” Terrwyn asked,
as the Warren men and a few of their employees climbed the ladder at the bow of the airship.

  “He was probably going into the captain’s cabin where the baby was,” Stephen said, brandishing an old sword.

  Jacob stepped forward and touched Noelle’s forehead as if blessing her.

  “I wonder where the officers are,” Terrwyn said. “They wouldn’t be Brass Hands.” She showed Stephen the small automaton. “This is keeping the crew immobilized. There’s one down by the engine.”

  “Ian said there was only one man on watch. That’s probably him.”

  “He’s not there anymore,” Thomas said. “Must have been hit by the second cannon shot.”

  “The crew quarters will be below,” Terrwyn said. “Let’s try to avoid killing anyone else. Most of the men you might find will have been impressed, unless they are wearing officer uniforms.”

  Jacob Warren nodded at his men. “Search the airship. Subdue any officers you find and take their weapons. I’m sure Her Majesty wouldn’t condone kidnapping. We’ll contact the local constabulary at first light and explain our actions.”

  Terrwyn sent Thomas back up to the Valentine to report to Owen, then she and Stephen went to the captain’s cabin once she’d tied Noelle’s blanket into a sling resting comfortably across her chest. The baby was already asleep again. Terrwyn hoped she hadn’t been starved into a stupor but she couldn’t stop to feed her until they found Ian.

  “The door’s open,” Stephen said when he reached the doorway.

  Terrwyn heard him exclaim and dashed in after him.

  “His eyes are open,” Stephen said, wrestling with the large body draped over a pedestal.

  Terrwyn recognized Ian immediately. What had they done to him? She set Noelle on the bed and rushed to the pedestal. Her fingers touched his neck, which was warm, and she found his pulse. She whispered his name.