by H. L. Burke
Ellis laughed. “I’ve seen wolfhounds who were less ravenous. Have we been starving you?”
She shrugged and took another large bite.
Amara and Renard emerged. Amara chose a small cucumber sandwich and nibbled daintily.
“I think we need to stay in for the rest of the day,” Ellis said. “I can send for a deck of cards or some books if you’d like.”
“I brought a needlepoint set,” Amara said.
“Do you play cards?” Nyssa asked Ellis. “You’ve mentioned chess once or twice but never cards.”
“I can play. Probably a bit rusty, though.”
In spite of Amara’s sulking and Renard’s constant glower, Nyssa managed to pass a few pleasant hours with Ellis, shuffling through the deck and trying various card games one after the other. If she focused on their conversation—as well as his eyes and smile—it was easy to pretend the other couple simply wasn’t there.
Renard sat at Amara’s knee like an obedient lapdog, watching her sew. They spoke rarely and only in whispers.
After a bit, they dined on the remainder of their sandwiches and pushed the empty tray-cart back into the hall.
Ellis checked his pocket watch. “We might as well turn in early. I’ve been up since well before dawn, and I’m starting to feel it.”
“One day done, two to go.” Nyssa sighed.
Behind the privacy screen, Nyssa slipped out of Amara’s gown and into her own comfortable shirt and trousers. She wasn’t going to remove any more than that, not with both Ellis and Renard in the room. Amara changed into a full-length nightgown with lace about the collars and sleeves.
Nyssa eyed the bed. It wasn’t large, but easily as big as the twin bed she’d shared with another girl at her overcrowded reform school.
Ellis flipped off the lights as everyone settled in. In spite of the anxieties of the day, Nyssa’s eyes fell shut as soon as her head hit the pillow.
***
Nyssa awoke with a jerk and found herself hugging the edge of the bed. Amara had rolled over and sprawled out. She now took up most of the sleeping space, and her bony elbow dug into Nyssa’s upper back.
I should give her a good shove to her own side. She’d probably make a ruckus and wake up Ellis and Renard, though. I hope Ellis is faring better than I am.
Nyssa nudged Amara’s arm away. She then shut her eyes.
Something creaked.
Nyssa froze.
The door to their room rattled. Nyssa’s muscles tensed at the familiar clicking of lockpicks at work. She fumbled about, trying to find something heavy enough to use as a weapon. Her hand bumped into the small alarm clock on the bedside table. The bells on top jangled.
The clicking stopped. Nyssa pulled the alarm clock to her chest.
Two more clicks. The door swung open, silhouetting a tall figure in the dim aisle lights.
Nyssa held her breath. He slipped in. The door shut behind him as his feet rustled on the carpets. He moved confidently about the cabin.
Wearing night vision goggles, perhaps? I would if I were him. I wish I had mine now.
He approached the stack of luggage.
Maybe he just wants to rob us. Let him take Amara’s suitcases. What do I care?
Her eyes adjusted to the faint light coming from under the door. Something glinted in the man’s hand. A knife?
He turned from the luggage and took a step towards the bed where Ellis lay sleeping.
Nyssa’s heart-rate spiked. Springing from the bed, she hurled the alarm clock at the intruder’s head. He stumbled back with a curse.
“Help!” Nyssa shouted.
Amara sat up with a shriek.
Renard leapt out of bed, fist first into the intruder. The man swiped at him, but not in time. Renard’s uppercut knocked him into the wall. The intruder toppled over the suitcases.
“Nyss, are you all right?” Ellis’s panicked voice rang out.
The man thrashed about, dodging kicks from Renard. Somehow he scrambled away. The door opened then slammed shut as he escaped. Nyssa plopped down on the bed, her whole body aquiver.
“Nyss?” Ellis repeated, his tone more urgent.
“I’m fine,” she managed to stammer.
He flicked on a light. “Who was that? What did he want?”
Nyssa turned a hard gaze on Amara. The girl’s mouth clamped shut.
“There’s obviously more going on here than a controlling guardian trying to prevent an unapproved marriage.” Ellis scowled at Renard. “Are you two ready to trust us yet?”
Renard shifted from foot to foot.
Amara rubbed her nose. “My uncle is a … determined man with many other men willing to do his bidding. I would not put it beyond him to hire someone to harm Renard. He had very specific ideas about the sort of man I should wed—wealthy, connected, pliable—and Renard isn’t any of those things.”
Nyssa fetched her toolkit. “Give me a minute. I can rig an alarm system with the clock. What about the revolver?”
“It’s in my suitcase … I’ve never shot a gun, though.” Ellis grimaced. “You, Nyss?”
“I have a general idea how to use one.” She swallowed.
“Renard’s a crack shot!” Amara piped up. “Let him have it.”
Before either Nyssa or Ellis could protest, Renard went for the suitcase. A moment later he withdrew the firearm. “I can sit up and keep watch. I won’t let him get to you, my love.”
Just so long as you don’t end up pointing that thing at me or Ellis again. What have we gotten into?Nyssa attached the doorknob to the alarm clock with a series of wires. It wasn’t elegant, but if anyone else broke in, they’d definitely hear it.
Tomorrow I’m going to figure out what’s going on, one way or another.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, dark circles ringed Ellis’s eyes, and Amara’s face was drawn and pale—well, paler.
Nyssa didn’t feel particularly tired. She’d endured nights with less sleep, and she wasn’t a stranger to the threat of violence. No, she’d lived under it for much of her life. That didn’t mean she liked it though.
Late in the morning, she left the room with the excuse of checking on their horseless carriage in the luggage hold. She hated to lie to Ellis, but if he’d known what she was up to, he would’ve insisted on coming along—or tried to forbid it. Also the pretense of visiting the dark and secluded hold allowed her to wear her trousers instead of being hindered by one of Amara’s fancy gowns. One annoying thing about gowns was the lack of pockets.
With her lockpicks securely in her back pocket, she slipped down the hall. According to the ship’s schedule, most of the passengers would be at brunch.
Nyssa approached the crew quarters. While she didn’t have much experience with zeppelins, she’d broken into a hotel once, and she’d already noted several similarities between the two. If those similarities held, the staff in charge of linens and such would have a passenger manifest, informing them which rooms were inhabited, by whom, and any special requests or needs of those passengers.
Amara had been tight-lipped regarding her family, but all her luggage was monogrammedC.B. It was likely she’d “borrowed” the luggage from her uncle.
She entered a room labeledFresh Linens. Sure enough, a clipboard with room numbers, names, and notations hung from the wall. She scanned the list.
Cabin 5: Cyril Blythe, Esquire, and manservant.
“Safe bet this ‘manservant’ was the fellow in our room last night.”
Brunch had at least twenty more minutes. Plenty of time for investigation. As a safeguard, she procured an apron and loose-fitting maid’s smock from another cabinet. In her new disguise, she headed straight for cabin number 5 .
The hallway was empty and quiet other than the steady whir of the ventilation system. Nyssa tried the handle. Locked, of course, but no alarms sounded.
Am I sure I want to do this? Nyssa stepped away from the door. Clearly, if Amara’s uncle had someone break into her room
wielding a knife, he isn’t a good guy.She glanced up and down. The hall was still empty. She could leave and no one would know she’d been there.I need to know exactly what they’re hiding if I’m going to spend another night in the same room as them.
Nyssa rapped on the door. “Maid service.”
No answer. With her ear pressed the door, she listened. Silence.
She picked the lock before she could count to ten in her head. Darting into the room, she fumbled for the light switch.
This room was smaller than the one Ellis had booked, with only one bed, though a pile of blankets on the floor suggested another person had slept there: Blythe’s manservant, she presumed. A pair of black gloves and an open cigar box sat atop a steamer trunk. A trace of tobacco smoke lingered in the room.
Smoking on a zeppelin? This man is either stupid or selfish or both.
Nyssa pushed these items aside then started picking the trunk. She needed to find something that explained this man’s ferocity. Some idea of why he was really after Amara and Renard.
The lock gave. The trunk’s hinges squeaked as she opened it. Nyssa winced.
Inside, on top of carefully folded layers of clothing, was a brown paper folder. She opened it. Inside were travel documents but also a small stack of photographs. The first was of Renard, but blurry and with his head turned half away from the camera, as if it had been taken without his knowledge. Beneath this was a photograph of Amara, clearly posed, in her best silks with her hair done up in an even more elaborate style than usual.
She pulled away the photo of Amara and read the document that rested under it. The phrasing was thick legalese, but she got the gist of it. Amara was legally a ward of Cyril Blythe, Esquire, until her eighteenth birthday, four months away by the dates given.
Nothing new here. She put down the folder, and stared into the eyes of Amara’s picture. What are they hiding? It has to be something.
The door behind her creaked opened.
Nyssa spun around, the photograph still clutched in her hand.
The older man from the observation deck—Uncle Cyril, she assumed—raised his eyebrows. “You again?” He shut the door, his fingers tapping against the handle of his cane. “How do you fit into all this? You aren’t the sort of girl my niece would willingly befriend, considering your attire.”
Really? What is with people and clothes?
Nyssa drew herself up. “It’s more of a matter of need than taste. Where’s your crony? The one you had break into our room last night?”
“Keeping watch in the hall,” Blythe replied. “I considered sending him for ship security, but I wanted to speak with you first.”
Nyssa narrowed her eyes at him. “It doesn’t make sense to me. You seem like a reasonable man, and Amara is … Amara. Why come after her? Why send armed thugs to harass her and Renard?”
“Under normal circumstances, you’d be right.” He tilted his head. “What sob story has my niece given you? Was she locked in a tower, like Rapunzel, waiting for her prince to rescue her from my callous care? Did I beat her? Feed her bread and water?”
Nyssa shrugged. “Something like that.”
“I won’t pretend any particular fondness for my niece, and less for her sticky-fingered Romeo. No, if it were simply a matter of them running off together, I wouldn’t shed a tear, but that Renard is a thief of more than just Amara’s heart. He stole the Dragon’s Heart.”
“The what?”
He motioned towards the folder. “If I may?”
She picked it up and passed it to him. He thumbed through the documents then pulled out a picture of a matronly woman with a massive gemstone pendant on her ample breast. Even in the sepia tones of the photograph, the gem had a deep, appealing color.
“This ruby is the heirloom of my family, the inheritance from my late mother. Renard can have Amara. The Dragon’s Heart he is not entitled to.”
Nyssa recalled the locked, rattling hatbox.
“If you know she has the gem, why not simply go to security and have them collect it for you?” she asked. “Why all this sneaking around?”
“Well …” He cleared his throat. “There may be some issues with the provenance of this particular gem.”
Nyssa scowled. He might think he could hide behind fancy words, but she’d been a thief. She knew the delicate phrases men used to hide their indiscretions. “So it’s stolen?”
“Not exactly stolen. Let’s just say the ownership is contested between my family and the royal line of a certain duchy, that duchy being the island of San Azula where we are headed. It’s a diplomatic quagmire. If the captain came into possession of it, he might feel obliged to hold it for the rulers of San Azula, or turn it over to a neutral party until the matter could be decided in court. Possession being nine-tenths of the law, I’d just as soon not let go of it.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” Nyssa let out a long breath. She didn’t trust Blythe any more than she trusted Amara, but it was obvious both parties were hiding something from her. At least Blythe’s story made sense. “Look, I’m not friendly with Amara, but I don’t wish her any ill will. If I get you the jewel, will you let her continue on to San Azula unmolested? And me along with her? I don’t want trouble, only to get safely where I’m going.”
“You may find Amara unwilling to give up the ruby. She’s accustomed to a certain level of luxury, and to my knowledge it is her only method of funding such a lifestyle. Perhaps that is for the best, of course. When she faces poverty with her beloved, she may come sniveling back to me. As her blood, the least I can do is provide for her in such a case.”
“How generous of you.” Nyssa sniffed. “So I can go now?”
“Are you going to get me the gem?” He narrowed his eyes at her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I need time to think it over.”
His hands twitched about his cane’s handle, his knuckles whitening. “Let me help you decide: I can’t risk the gem landing on San Azulan soil while out of my hands. Between the royal family’s claim to it, and their unwillingness to extradite criminals, I’ll never see it again. I need your answer, and the gem, by five p.m.” He leaned forward. His demeanor shifted, his face darkening, his mouth scowling, and his eyes like molten steel. “If not, I’ll have no choice but to go to the captain about your travel arrangements, and everyone in your cabin will end this voyage in the brig.”
A chill shot through Nyssa. She drew back. “I don’t like being threatened.”
“Then you should’ve chosen better company.” His pleasant tone returned. He motioned to the door. “You have work to do. I wouldn’t wish to delay you.”
Dropping the photograph to the floor, she stepped around him. Her skin crawled at the thought of bending to Blythe’s demands. However, if she didn’t, what would happen to her? To Ellis?
Betraying Amara doesn’t bother me. I owe her no loyalty, but I’m getting sick of people strong-arming me into things. What will Ellis think of this whole mess?
Chapter Nine
“Do you think Blythe is trustworthy?” Ellis whispered.
He really didn’t need to keep his voice down. They’d left Amara and Renard in the cabin and retreated to the hold. It was the safest place on the ship, in terms of privacy. Nyssa leaned up against their carriage while they talked, keeping one eye on the door in case someone peeked in.
“No,” Nyssa said, in her normal voice. “But neither are Renard and Amara. At least with Blythe, we know what he wants.”
“I don’t like that he gave you an ultimatum and a deadline. You don’t deserve to be blackmailed this way.” Ellis exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. “How long do we have left?” He checked his pocket watch. “Blast, already two. You should’ve told me right away.”
“I tried. Renard and Amara were watching.” Nyssa fiddled with her goggles. Sitting in the room with that sappy pair, knowing what she knew now, had been torture. “I need to either find the gem or figure out how to deal with Blythe.”
“We gave them every chance to be honest with us. We can’t ask them their side now. For all we know Renard could become violent. He has the revolver, remember?”
“Yes, and him pointing it at me is not an experience I’m eager to relive.” Ellis frowned. “However, if you take the ruby from him, he could come after us anyway.”
“We make port tomorrow. If I can get it away when he’s not looking, perhaps he’ll assume Blythe got it. If not, we’ll easily be able to escape them once we reach San Azula.” She shook her head. “Either way, we’re caught in the gears. I’m not going to stand by and let myself get ground up.”
“Be careful, Nyss.” He took her hand. “Maybe we should try to talk to Amara. She may be hiding something, but she seems more reasonable than Renard. If we can get her alone, we might be able to reason with her.”
“I suppose, but whatever we do, we need to hurry. All it would take is for Blythe to mention our arrangement to the captain, to put all four of us in the brig, probably with me bound back to New Taured due to that price on my head.”
On the way back to the room, they only passed one steward who was carrying a stack of towels. He actively averted his eyes from Ellis’s chair. Ellis stiffened.
Nyssa was relieved when they finally reached their cabin, but her body tensed when she entered. The room was empty.
“Sparks and shocks!” She scowled. “They know they aren’t supposed to leave when we’re gone. Never more than two of us in public at a time. That was the deal.”
“Hopefully they’re being discreet about it.” Ellis sighed.
Nyssa made a beeline for their luggage.