Clockwork Secrets

by Dru Pagliassotti

  “But I can’t— Taya!”

  She shook off his hand and fled, desperate to feel the wind on her face and pretend she was doing something useful, even if it was just watching the airfight to report to her husband later.

  Anything would be better than sitting in that cramped, dark galley brooding over her friends’ fates.

  Taya dodged a lictor sliding down the ladder to the gun deck and scrambled up the rungs as quickly as she could, knowing that if any of the officers saw her, they’d order her back below.

  The Firebrand’s aviators were maintaining the wing engines along the quarterdeck, running the searchlights on the forecastle, and manning volley guns mounted at the forecastle, quarterdeck, and stern. Lieutenant Imbrex, a tall, dark-haired woman, paced the length of the ship shouting orders while Captain Amcathra stood on the raised forecastle in front of the massive ondium-plated wing mounts, studying the enemy ship through field glasses. His face and light blond hair looked even paler than usual under the harsh glare of the Alzanans’ spotlight.

  Taya crept to the stern, where the activity was less intense. A crew member manned the binnacle and the wheels that controlled the demiwings and tailrudder, ready to adjust the ship’s yaw on the primary helm’s signal. Taya crouched by the rail and tucked her skirts between her knees, shivering in the icy night air.

  The Alzanan ship was trying to climb over the ornithopter, striving to avoid the Ondinium vessel’s fuselage-mounted gun deck and gain a superior firing angle. The foreign vessel was slow, but dirigibles could pit their engines against the wind, whereas the Firebrand was forced, like an icarus, to beat to windward. Amcathra ordered ballast dumped and the ornithopter rose steadily and swiftly as its buoyancy-to-weight ratio shifted in favor of ondium’s lift.

  Another light struck them from behind. Taya twisted, shielding her eyes with one hand. A second dirigible rose from the dense fog, its spotlights igniting. It had crept up below them, the sound of its engines drowned out by the other two ships.

  The starboard cannon on the ornithopter’s gunnery deck opened fire. In response, the dirigible to port began firing its repeating guns. Taya ducked, but nobody fell and she didn’t hear bullets hitting the Firebrand’s ondium plating. Were they still out of range? No— she heard shouting from the quarterdeck as engineers reported on the condition of the port wing.

  The Alzanans were trying to cripple the Firebrand. They wanted to capture it, not destroy it.

  The Firebrand’s starboard cannon boomed and the entire ship gave a slight roll, swiftly compensated for by the alert helms. We’re too light, Taya thought. The heavy weapons’ recoil was affecting the ship’s aerodynamics.

  The dirigible to port fired again. This time bullets stitched metal and wood. Taya flinched. Why wasn’t Amcathra taking them out of there?

  The Firebrand’s port cannon gave a thunderous roar. She risked another glance through the rails.

  At least some of their shot had struck the Alzanan ship— the Firebrand’s spotlight revealed damage to the enemy’s gondola and envelope. The Alzanans returned fire. A lictor screamed, thrown overboard by the bullets’ impact. Taya instinctively started to stand, then clenched her fists and crouched back down. There was nothing she could do to help him.

  I want my wings, she thought fiercely, listening to the ships exchange fire. She was useless without her wings.

  More bullets hammered into the ornithopter, this time from starboard. The Firebrand’s cannon answered. Taya looked over her unprotected shoulder and saw the second dirigible looming beside them, its gondola splintering under the impact of the Firebrand’s larger missiles. Gun barrels swung back and forth from the gondola’s windows, and an Alzanan soldier fired down on them from the gunnery platform on top of the dirigible’s envelope.

  This is ridiculous, she thought. If I get killed, Cris will never forgive me.

  But gunfire separated her from the nearest hatch and nobody else was fleeing the barrage. The secondary helmswoman was being protected by one of the diplomatic-staff lictors, Bright, who stood beside her firing his rifle back at the Alzanans. Taya didn’t think he could hit anything at that range, but she admired his fearlessness.

  Faint cheers arose, barely audible over the din of battle. Taya craned her neck and saw the ship to port fall away. The Firebrand’s spotlight played over its smoking engines. Its crew was, no doubt, scrambling to put out the fire before any stray sparks ignited the inflammable gas within its envelope.

  The second vessel continued hammering them. Its small gondola must have been rattling with thrown brass casings, but the nonstop onslaught was having an effect. Lictors fell, bleeding, their replacements standing over their fallen bodies. Taya felt the Firebrand shudder as though something had gone awry with its wings. It banked and she grabbed the rail, her heart in her throat, as they began a descending spiral. Lictors plunged down the hatches, shouting. Taya breathed a prayer to the Lady, wishing she had stayed below. If they were about to die, she wanted to be with her husband when it happened.

  But the deck straightened out and the lictors emerged carrying a short, stubby metal canister. They set the mortar on the deck, roping it down and pointing it overhead. Taya looked up. The Firebrand was pulling itself directly beneath the Alzanan ship, which was doing its slow, plodding best to escape the vulnerable position. But the Firebrand had greater maneuverability and maintained its relative position beneath the enemy with a gliding gyre.

  Amcathra shouted an order. The lictors lit the fuse, dropped the missile into the canister, and leaped back, covering their ears.

  With a deck-shaking explosion and a burst of sulfurous smoke, the shell shot into the air and splintered through the gondola’s weak floor. For three heartbeats nothing happened as the Firebrand ceased its spiral and set its wings back into motion. As the ornithopter pulled away, fire gouted out of the gondola’s windows.

  “Oh, scrap,” Taya breathed, clutching the Firebrand’s rails with white knuckles. The ornithopter gained speed, leaving the enemy behind. Screaming Alzanan crew members leaped out of the gondola, silhouetted for a moment against the fire before vanishing into the darkness and fog.

  She closed her eyes, unable to watch.

  Several more heartbeats passed before it happened— a flash of light against her closed lids. Despite herself, Taya opened them in time to see the last streaks of fiery gas leap into the air while broken, burning parts of the dirigible plummeted after its ill-fated crew.

  None of the Firebrands cheered. Instead, they stood for a long moment, stunned and silenced by the devastating explosion.

  Then, at last, the subdued crew pulled their gazes from the falling sparks and began helping the fallen, sorting the wounded from the dead. Taya stood. This was something she could do, at least. And maybe the sight of the Firebrand’s casualties would alleviate the horror she felt at so many Alzanan soldiers dying alone in the endless, dark ocean below.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Taya was led to the small cabin she and her husband would share, Cristof had fallen asleep in a chair, a leather folder of papers spilling from his hand. Taya picked up the papers, saw the Top Secret headings neatly typewritten over each page, and tugged the folder from his hand. He awoke, startled.

  “Oh— sorry.” He rubbed his eyes and straightened his glasses. “How are you? Janos told me you were safe….”

  “We blew up one of the ships, after all.” She sat on the edge of the lower bunk and laid the folder on the floor. She’d washed her hands, but her skirts were still stained with Ondinium blood.

  “I heard the explosion.” He sat beside her and pulled her into an embrace. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have done it if he’d had any choice.”

  “I know.” She buried her face in his shoulder, letting grief overwhelm her at last. Cristof held her as she mourned for her friends in the palace and the Alzanans who’d burned to death and the Ondin
ium corpses lined up by the ship’s rails and the injured crew members being treated by the ship’s physician and all of the people who were going to die when Alzana and Ondinium went to war.

  By the time she’d stopped weeping, she was wrung out and half asleep. Cristof lowered her to the pillow and covered her with a blanket.

  “Where’s Liliana?” she whispered, her eyes closing.

  “One cabin down.” He kissed her cheek. “Get some rest.”

  “What about you?”

  “In a few more minutes.” He picked the folder up off the floor. “I need to finish reading the Council’s contingency orders.”

  Taya felt a moment’s curiosity, but she couldn’t sustain it. Instead, she closed her eyes and let everything slip away.

  * * *

  Sun shining through the portals and the scent of frying bacon awoke her the next morning. After a much-needed wash, Taya changed into the plain black lictor’s uniform folded at the foot of her bunk and hurried to the mess. Captain Amcathra, Lieutenant Imbrex, Cristof, and Liliana were already at a table, and a number of weary-looking crew sat around the rest of the room. Taya took a cup of hot tea and a plate of bacon and eggs to the table and squeezed in.

  “Good morning,” she greeted everyone.

  “Good morning.” Cristof’s sober expression lightened. He’d also washed and changed, but the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t gotten much sleep. “Are you feeling better?”

  “A little.” She took a bite of eggs and realized she was starving. For a few minutes she ignored the desultory conversation as she concentrated on her meal.

  “Exalted, we need to discuss our next steps,” Captain Amcathra said at last. “Principessa, if you would….”

  “Excuse me.” The Alzanan girl stood. She looked as weary as the rest of them, and she’d barely touched her breakfast. “I’ll be in my cabin.”

  “I’ll find you as soon as I can,” Taya promised. Liliana gave her a small, sad smile as she bade the table good-bye.

  “We need to get her back to her Family,” Taya murmured. “Or somewhere safe. The Agostis must have some allies she can trust.”

  “There is a problem,” Amcathra replied.

  “Of course there is.” She finished the last mouthful and eyed the empty plate. “Give me a minute, Captain.”

  When she returned with another helping, she sat and picked up her fork.

  “All right. I’m ready.”

  Amcathra nodded to Lieutenant Imbrex.

  “We didn’t have an opportunity to refuel in Alzana,” Imbrex said bluntly.

  “What about food?” Taya asked, dropping a guilty look at her refilled plate.

  “Don’t worry, Icarus; we are otherwise well-provisioned.” Lieutenant Imbrex flashed her a smile. “And you, especially, must eat. We need you to fly for us this morning.”

  “I don’t have an armature.”

  “You do now.” Imbrex slid a set of keys across the table. “You’ll find your wings locked in the hold.”

  “My wings!” Taya grabbed the keys and turned her shining eyes on Captain Amcathra. “Thank you!”

  “The Council ordered me to press you into service should the Firebrand require an icarus,” he said. “As a result, I had your personal armature released into my care.”

  “You don’t need to press me into service— I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

  “Thank you, Icarus.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I can’t wait to get into the air again!” She beamed and dug into her breakfast with renewed enthusiasm.

  “Food and water was easy to get in Alzana,” Imbrex continued. “Our agents left our supplies at predesignated drop points. But the Alzanan government is stockpiling coal for its war effort, and the supply we brought from Ondinium is running very low.”

  “Last night’s attack damaged the Firebrand’s wings and engine,” Amcathra added. “Our engineers are trying to make repairs, but we left the ship in a glide last night and the prevailing winds have taken us farther over the ocean. To return to Alzana — or Ondinium — we must fly against the wind, which will further deplete our limited fuel stores.”

  “What about going north to Demicus? No,” Cristof corrected himself, “the Alzanans are probably patrolling the Demican coast, considering how many clans joined the sheytatangri. South to Mareaux?”

  “That is a possibility.”

  “The Council’s contingency orders are to return to Ondinium as quickly as possible and gather as much military intelligence as we can along the way, but….”

  “We must address our fuel shortage first. I am also concerned about delaying Principessa Liliana’s return to her Family. Until she testifies, the accusation that we assassinated Il Re Agosti will spread unchallenged. I fear that it will create diplomatic rifts between Ondinium and its allies.”

  “Can we send a message to the Council explaining what happened?” Taya asked.

  “Not until we reach an allied country, and no explanation we could provide would carry as much weight as the principessa’s own testimony.”

  “She could write a letter, and I could carry it….”

  “Not across enemy territory,” Lieutenant Imbrex objected. “After the invasion failed, the Alzanans set up protective perimeters around their borders and their most important military and municipal targets. The army’s looking for icarus reconnaissance teams, and they will shoot to kill.”

  “We should investigate our other possibilities first,” Amcathra agreed. “We will be able to better evaluate our situation after the engineers’ report. In the meantime, we are gliding with the prevailing winds.” He looked at Taya. “We will require your assistance in maneuvering the ballast hose.”

  “Of course.” She had no idea what maneuvering a ballast hose involved, but she’d be happy to strap on her wings for any reason.

  “Also, the funeral service will be held at noon.”

  “How many….” Cristof’s voice trailed off.

  “Four, and two of our wounded have poor prospects. Our crew complement was twenty-two, so we have taken a significant loss. The six lictors on our security team are not trained in aviation.”

  Cristof shoved his plate aside and rubbed his temples.

  “I’m sorry, Janos. This is not going to go down in history as my most successful diplomatic mission.

  “You did everything you could to avoid a war,” Amcathra said flatly, looking from the exalted to Taya. “If you failed in your attempt, it is because other, more powerful factions desire this conflict. We did not begin the hostilities, and it is apparent that we will not end them. Neither of you may blame yourselves for the events in Alzana or the casualties to come. It is more important that you concentrate on surviving to defend our nation. Do you understand me, Exalted? Icarus?”

  “Yes, I understand.” Cristof took a deep breath and nodded to his friend. “I’ll try.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Taya forced a small smile. Amcathra was trying, in his own stern way, to comfort them, and she appreciated the effort.

  “Maintaining positive morale in front of the crew will be essential in the days ahead.” Amcathra stood. “If you will excuse me, Exalted.”

  “Thank you, Janos,” Cristof said, as his friend strode off, quietly trailed by Lieutenant Imbrex. He turned to Taya. “He’s right, you know.”

  “I know. But I don’t feel it here.” She touched her chest.

  “Neither do I. But we’ll need that stubborn optimism of yours now more than ever.” He reached across the table to touch her hand. “I’ll need it.”

  She swallowed a lump in her throat and studied the new scars and shadows in his angular features. “How are you feeling? Are you doing all right?”

  “My feet are covered in blisters, my side aches, and I’m trapped on a damaged ornithopter in the middle of the oc
ean, but other than that, I’m in excellent shape.”

  “What’s wrong with your side?”

  “Nothing— just too much unaccustomed exercise.” He gingerly ran a hand between his coat and his shirt. “Don’t worry. Nothing re-opened. I checked.”

  “Tell me if the pain gets worse, all right?”

  “Of course.” He stood, dropping his hand. “Well. Since they’ve cracked open the engine casing, I think I’ll go take a look.”

  “I’m sure the crew would welcome another engineer,” she said, reassured that he couldn’t be in too much pain if he was ready to venture on deck to poke his nose into a machine’s innards.

  * * *

  Taya found Liliana in her cabin and held up the purse of jewelry.

  “Thank you,” the girl said, taking it and lifting out one of the necklaces. “My— my brother gave this one to me. I would hate to lose it.”

  Taya nodded, seeing the grief the girl was trying to hide.

  “We’ll get you back to Alzana as soon as we can.” She described their situation as the principessa slid on the rest of her jewels. “So I hope you’ll be patient,” she concluded. “Captain Amcathra is doing everything he can.”

  “Yes….” Liliana sat on the lower bunk, since Taya was in the only chair, and ran the last necklace through her fingers. “He was polite to me this morning.”

  “I expect he’s more relaxed now that we’re safe,” Taya said, although ‘relaxed’ wasn’t a word she normally associated with the steely lictor. “He can get brusque when there’s danger.”

  “I thought he was going to lock me in the cabin last night.” The girl’s hands closed over the necklace. “I know you must be tempted to hold me hostage.”

  “We won’t. I promise. Neither Cristof nor I will permit it.”

  “Then I’m glad you’re with me.” Liliana handed her the last necklace. “This was Lady Mazzoletti’s. Maybe you can use it as evidence.”

  The pendant was an odd, oversized crystal that jutted out of a little brass box that had two jewels inlaid on its surface.