Dead Dukes Tell No Tales

by Catherine Stein

“Lola!” he shouted, spinning and racing back into the castle, past the public spaces and into the areas he and Sabine had explored during the night. “Lola! Sabine!”

  He shouldered his way through a disorderly cluster of girls. The word “spider” jumped out from the multilingual confusion of chatter. Lola.

  “Have you seen a little girl?” he asked. “This tall? Wavy black hair? Ein kleines Mädchen?”

  Several girls shrugged. Two girls pointed in opposite directions. Cliff swore and ran.

  “Sabine! Lola!”

  “Daddy!”

  Cliff wheeled in the direction of the cry. The library! Good God, if they were taking her down the secret passage and out the side of the mountain…

  Never!

  His legs burned, new pains shooting up from the ankle that had yet to entirely heal. He crashed through the library doors, darting around tables, smashing into chairs and not caring. A few steps from the entrance to the dungeon laboratory, Sabine stood with Lola in her arms, her body turned to shield the girl from harm. Beams of lamplight glinted off the polished barrels of three revolvers aimed straight at them.

  Cliff staggered to a halt. “Let them go. Take me.” The guns didn’t waver, but eyes turned in his direction. “I’ll give you anything. Money, jewels, whatever you want. Just let them go free.”

  The oldest of the three villains, a woman in a navy blue schoolteacher dress who looked near to Cliff’s own age, turned to point her gun at his heart.

  “Ah. The duke himself. I thought Papa was sending men for you, but we all know that we ladies are the true brains of the organization. Ist das nicht so, Schwester?” She glanced at Sabine, her teeth baring in a feral smile.

  Sister?

  The translation clashed with his reality. Not Sabine. Never Sabine, who guarded his baby with her own life. She would never be one of them. He took a step toward the gun, refusing to cower, despite his racing heart and his trembling hands.

  “Let them go,” he repeated.

  “Release the girl, Dieben,” the woman said to Sabine. “Von Arx wants her for a student, and we have no use for one so young. We only want you and your American lover.”

  “He’s not my lover,” Sabine snapped. She pressed Lola to her chest. “And I trust your word about as far as I can piss.”

  “Not your lover?” The woman’s eyebrows arched. “Has the little slut grown picky?”

  Sabine cursed at her in a language Cliff didn’t even recognize.

  “Well, then.” The woman nodded at her two companions—girls in their late teens, wearing the uniforms of the Institute. “Since he’s so inconsequential…”

  Cliff was moving before the words “shoot him” were out of her mouth. He plowed into the schoolteacher, sending her flying into Sabine and Lola as gunshots whizzed over his head.

  Lola screamed. Cliff dove for her, catching her around the waist and pulling her against his chest. Sabine and the enemy teacher grappled on the floor, the gun trapped between their two hands. Cliff rolled away from the melee, shoving Lola behind a large, upholstered armchair.

  “Go!” Sabine shouted. “Get out! Leave me!”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Leave her? In the hands of a castle of murderesses?

  Another gunshot rang out, the bullet slamming into the carpet inches from his leg. He scrambled behind the chair with Lola. The sounds of knuckles smacking flesh mingled with grunts of pain.

  “Damn you, Duke, get the hell out!”

  Out. Their only chance.

  I’ll be back for you.

  Cliff gathered Lola in his arms and darted for the next possible shelter—a lectern he’d overturned on his way in. He dove behind it. The dictionary it had held lay splayed on the ground, its pages bent and crushed. Cliff’s eyes fixed on the exit. He had a clear path except for a single curio cabinet that was probably filled with priceless antiques.

  “Not as priceless as our lives,” he whispered. “Hold tight, babe.”

  He sucked in a single, deep breath, bit his bottom lip, and sprang. Legs churning, he streaked through the room, knocking the cabinet aside with his right shoulder. The pain didn’t even register. Glass shattered and artifacts went flying. Cliff hit the door with the same shoulder, crashing into the hall before setting Lola on her feet.

  “Daddy!” she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “I’m here, Lo. I’m here,” he babbled, yanking oil lamps down from the walls. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  He kicked the hall carpet into a wad in front of the door and smashed the lamps atop it. Flames raced across the fabric, flaring up as the fibers caught fire. Cliff scooped up Lola and began to run again.

  “Sabine!” she cried.

  “We’ll meet her outside,” he promised. “The library has a secret exit.”

  The only exit, until his pile of oil-soaked carpet burned out. He’d meet her at the other side, even if he had to run down the mountain to get there. The enemy needed her alive to get to the Heart. That was what mattered. They couldn’t harm her. She would be safe.

  The front gate still stood open from when he’d tossed the flare out, but the blinding multicolored light had died out. A large shadow slanted across the sunlit flagstone steps. Cliff stepped out and looked up. Die Fledermaus hovered above the castle, her engine purring a beautiful song of rescue. A metal basket attached by chains rested on the ground, awaiting cargo. Half a dozen rough-looking men circled, kept at bay by a pair of spiked mechanical arms that sprouted from the cargo hoist. Ben Palmer, Sabine’s engineer, stood inside the basket, manipulating the arms like a puppeteer, his brass gloves attached to the machine with a series of wires.

  “Duke! Climb aboard!”

  Ben cleared a path for Cliff and Lola, and they scrambled into the basket.

  “Go!” Cliff barked. “To the other side of the castle. They’ll be bringing Sabine straight out of the mountain.”

  Ben kicked something and the cargo hoist zipped upward, knocking Cliff onto his ass. The mechanical arms retracted.

  “Nice design.”

  “Thank you. Where’s the Captain? What happened?”

  “Some woman. Talked about ‘Papa’ and called her ‘sister.’ She had a couple of helpers and they had her at gunpoint, but they want information from her.”

  Ben took his turn swearing. In Spanish, Cliff thought, or perhaps Portuguese. “Bastards never give up, do they? Don’t worry. We’ve gotten her out of worse.”

  By the time Cliff and Lola were on deck, Nicole had maneuvered the ship up and over the castle, dropping down toward the outskirts of the village and the secret entrance.

  “Right there,” Cliff said. “Where those pink-gray rocks meet in a sort of a V.”

  “I see it. Hawkes, you ready?”

  The butler-pirate stood at the rail, a rope tied around his waist that looped through a series of pulleys, ending in Jules’ hands. The Frenchman gave an experimental tug, easily lifting his crewmate off the ground. “Rig’s set.”

  Cliff peered down at the rocks, his arms tight around Lola, who watched with worried, but now dry eyes. A section of the mountain shifted. Bits of dirt and grass seemed to melt away as the entrance doors swung inward. Sabine stepped out, the three enemy women at her back, still clutching their pistols.

  Hawkes leapt over the side of the ship, hurtling toward the ground at a pace that looked terrifyingly out of control to Cliff. Hawkes snatched Sabine right off the ground, flying back upwards as Jules hauled on the rope. The engines roared and the ship shot toward the sky. Jules gave one final yank, and Sabine and Hawkes cleared the rail.

  Lola ran to Sabine, flinging her arms around her neck. “Miss La Capitaine! I was so scared!” The tears began to flow again, and Sabine stroked Lola’s hair gently.

  “You were such a good, brave girl. Thanks to you, I found our treasure.”

  The treasure. Cliff flinched. The Heart of Ra. The replacement for Lola’s fuel tube.

  Lola’s luxene. Oh, my God.


  “Stop!” he commanded. “Go back. I have to get Lola’s things.”

  “What?” Sabine leapt to her feet. “Don’t be a fool. Redbeard could be on us in an instant. He must have a ship hidden nearby.” She looked at Nicole and Ben. “Full power. Burn all her fuel, just get us to safety.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” the first mate replied, flicking several dials on the control panel. Her husband ran to work on the engines.

  Wind roared in Cliff’s ears as the airship tore away from the castle. Somewhere inside of him, generations of aristocratic ancestry had apparently been lurking. He drew himself up to his full six feet and stalked to the helm.

  “Go back to the castle,” he ordered, sounding every bit the duke he had never wanted to be. “Now.”

  Nicole ignored him.

  Cliff reached for the wheel. “I’m turning this goddamned ship around.”

  She punched him.

  23

  Sabine had to say this for Hartleigh: he wasn’t one to surrender to physical pain. He wasn’t one to surrender to anything, really, despite his usually mild temperament. The duke—for he was fully a duke in this moment—stalked toward her, blood trickling from his split lip, blue eyes flashing with icy fury. The very antithesis of mild.

  “Turn the ship around.”

  Sabine had faced down many a furious man in her time, most of them armed, some who even wanted to seize her ship. Never before, however, had she entered into such a confrontation without even the slightest bit of fear. Instead she felt… aroused.

  The unwelcome and unexpected reaction fueled her own anger. She curled her fingers into fists, hating that she wanted to kiss Hartleigh as much as slap him. Hating that she wanted to fling herself into his arms and surrender. To just once not need to be the all-powerful captain.

  “You have no power on this ship,” she snarled, her face so close to his that he had to wipe a drop of spittle from his cheek.

  He only leaned closer. “You are putting Lola’s life in danger. Turn the goddamned ship around.”

  “Danger? There are murderous pirates back there! That’s danger.”

  “She could die, do you understand me? Turn. The fucking. Ship. Around. Now.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “I don’t have time for a fuc—”

  “Miss La Capitaine?” Lola interrupted, pulling on Sabine’s arm. “Daddy wants my fuel. See?”

  The little girl had unbuttoned the top of her uniform dress, revealing a metal plate in the center of her chest. She opened it, pointing at the small tube partially filled with glowing luxene. Sabine’s own heart hummed unnaturally in her chest.

  “I have a machine in my heart,” Lola explained, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. “It needs luxene every week. I’m not scared, but Daddy is always worried that I will run out.”

  The cold mountain air sliced through the fabric of Sabine’s clothing, stinging the flesh on her right side. The left side felt only the pressure of the wind. Damaged. Artificial. A constant reminder of failure. She rarely noticed the contrast anymore, except in times like this when everything came flooding back.

  “Ben should have a few ounces of luxene among his engineering things.” The voice belonged to Sabine the captain, who saw problems and fixed them. Patched them up like her patched-up body. “And when we next stop, I will buy you a gallon jug to replace what was left behind.” She looked back up at Cliff. He still loomed over her, but the anger had faded from his face. “Acceptable?”

  He gave a curt nod. “I want to see the luxene. To be certain.” He reached for Lola, tugging her dress closed. “Lo, it’s freezing up here, you can’t be all exposed like—” He jerked back with a yelp. “What is that?”

  Lola scooped up the fuzzy creature that had crawled out of her pocket. The spider was as large as her hand, black and hairy, with small red stripes on its legs.

  “His name is Lucas. He’s a spider.” She pressed the animal to her chest. “I think he’s cold. His cage was supposed to be kept warm. I picked him up when we were finding the treasure. But then you almost squashed him when you were carrying me. I was so scared you were going to squash him.”

  Cliff blinked several times. “Right. Why don’t you head down below where you can both be warm? Maybe find a bucket or something to put him in. Introduce him to his mechanical spider siblings. I’ll check on the luxene and then come down, okay?”

  Lola looked for a moment as if she might protest, but then she shivered. “Okay.”

  Cliff watched her disappear down the stairs before turning to Sabine. “You found the helmet?”

  “I did.” Sabine folded her arms across her chest, studying him. He had calmed, but his resolve remained in the hard set of his mouth and his unflinching gaze.

  I don’t like leaving jobs half-done, he had said. Liar.

  “You want the Heart of Ra for Lola.” It was so obvious now she didn’t need to ask, but she wanted to hear him confirm it.

  “Correct.”

  “And what of my quest for it?”

  “I’ll pay you whatever you think it’s worth. Whatever you ask.”

  “And if I told you that it’s priceless and not for sale?”

  “Then I would have to take it from you.” He touched his split lip. “As you can see, I’m willing to defy you.”

  “Sorry about that,” Nicole called. “Ship policy. There’s no tolerance for mutiny. Never challenge the captain’s authority.”

  “I’ll make certain I’m standing more than an arm’s length away next time I do it,” Hartleigh replied.

  Nicole laughed. “I like him, Captain. You can keep him.”

  He’s not mine to keep.

  But neither was he going anywhere anytime soon. Not when they had a treasure to find.

  The Heart of Ra. The power source she’d coveted since learning of its existence. Lola’s revelation left her conflicted. She’d worked for this. It’s what she did. Worked to drag herself up. To make her life better. And now a seven-year-old girl had bared her metal heart and left Sabine wanting to sacrifice. Wanting to be a protector again. She knew that path. That way lay pain.

  “This way. I’ll find you the luxene.”

  She led him down below without another word. It took her no more than a minute to locate the fuel in the bottom of Ben’s tool chest. She handed Cliff the bottle and turned to climb up to the deck.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His unexpected apology made her freeze.

  “I shouldn’t have tried to command your crew. I overreacted and I apologize.”

  Sabine turned slowly. “Apology accepted. You had your reasons. And I should thank you for helping the crew rescue me.”

  “You helped Lola. I owed you. Now we’re even. You want to tell me who those women were and why that one called you sister?”

  “Not especially, no.” Old pains and old betrayals. She’d never be free of the past, but she wasn’t going to dwell in it.

  “Perhaps another time.”

  “Yes.”

  No.

  She neither wanted nor needed a confidant. Her business was hers alone. She’d tell him no more than was necessary.

  “Well, how about the helmet?” he asked. “What was the next clue?

  “Wheel number five. It said, ‘Cat mummy. Hunterian.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I know.”

  Their eyes locked. His were as sharp as the alpine air. And he was so close. Had he stepped closer or had she? A bit of rough air and she’d rock right into him.

  “Because neither of us is giving up on this, are we?” she asked.

  His head dropped toward hers. “Not a chance.”

  Sabine swayed closer.

  The door to her cabin flew open, startling them both so badly that Cliff slipped and banged into the wall behind him.

  “Oh!” the duchess exclaimed. “Sorry to interrupt, but that girl has a�
�� a thing, and she’s letting it crawl all over. I can’t stay there.”

  “I should go,” Cliff said, waving the hand with the luxene bottle. “Make sure Lola’s okay after what happened.” He stepped through the doorway, then looked back at Sabine. “We should talk later.”

  “Yes.”

  “You two ought to find better locations for your kissing,” the duchess said to Sabine when the door closed behind her. “In a bedroom, perhaps?”

  “We weren’t kissing.” Yet. Sabine started up the stairs. Amy followed right on her heels. She was in a skirt again, though Sabine had no idea where it had come from. Maybe the crew had let her out long enough to go shopping in the village, to placate her after Sabine’s refusal to let her return home.

  “It’s not ideal, his having an inappropriate lover,” the duchess continued, “but I’m sure we can arrange things so he can still marry Miss Willingham. You won’t mind, I hope?”

  Sabine reached the deck and turned around, putting her hands on her hips. “We’re not lovers.”

  The duchess arched the most perfect skeptical eyebrow Sabine had ever seen. A slightly pointed bow of pure disbelief. You are fooling even yourself, that eyebrow said.

  “And, yes, I would mind if someone had professed an intention to be with me and then married someone else. That is why I avoid romantic entanglements.”

  Amy laughed. “Oh, my dear Miss Dieben, allow me to explain something about these things. I fell hard, at seventeen, and my affections have never wavered. You don’t choose passion of that sort. By the time you realize you’ve stumbled into it, you’re too deep to get yourself out. You and Hartleigh look at one another like lovers do. You argue like lovers. You share secrets like lovers. That sizzle between you will become a conflagration and you won’t be able to quench it.”

  Sabine’s jaw tightened. “Then we will simply have to put out the fire before it starts.” She spun on her heel and walked to the helm, where Nicole stepped aside to allow Sabine to fly the ship.

  “Have you decided on a destination, Captain?”

  “We’re heading to Paris. I think we all need a day about town.” She and Hartleigh most especially. Something had to be done to quash their mutual lust. “And I have plans.”