Airships, Crypts & Chocolate Chips

by Erin Johnson

  I frowned. “Whoa. A royal pardon? Like, from your father?”

  Hank nodded. “I think it must have been from him.”

  I took a step back. “So, for stealing medicine, they kept a kid locked up for six months and the king himself freed him? Seems like kind of a big deal for such a minor offense.”

  Hank smiled. “That’s exactly what I thought. Which is why….” He raised his brows.

  I mimicked his expression. “Yes?”

  “We’re going to the Bijou Mer jail!” He raised his hands and shook them in mock excitement. He dropped them and his cheeks flushed pink. “I know, not that great, but I figured at least we’d get some alone time and get to skip hanging out on the southern terrace with everyone we were forced to spend last night with.”

  I chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for avoiding your family and friends. No offense.”

  He held a hand up. “None taken.”

  I sighed, though I couldn’t help but smile. I was spending time with Hank, after all. “Another prison though, huh?”

  “I know, believe me. But technically it’s a jail, not sure if that’s any better, and I thought we could grab lunch af— Wait.” He searched my face and lifted a brow. “Another prison?

  I choked and clapped a hand to my chest as I spluttered. Think fast, Imogen. “Uh—ahem—I just—ooh! I just meant since I’m going on that ladies’ salon trip to Carclaustra on Friday.”

  He quirked his lips to the side. “You’re going on that?”

  “Uh, yeah. Probably.” I crossed my arms. “Should I not?”

  Hank gave me a funny smile, as though he knew something I didn’t. “Sure, of course.”

  I frowned at him and he grinned wider. What in the seas was he thinking?

  “All right… to the jail then?”

  Hank, still grinning, offered me his arm and I took it. He borrowed a small passenger airship, barely big enough for the two of us, and piloted it himself to the Bijou Mer jail. Which, frankly, was pretty sexy.

  We disembarked on the landing pad and when the guards who approached us recognized Hank, they ushered us directly in to see my favorite policeman, Inspector Bon.

  Bon rose from his wooden swivel chair. “Prince Harry, what a delightful surprise.” He bowed so low his forehead almost touched his metal desk. He straightened and narrowed his eyes at me. “Miss Banks.”

  I gave him a nod.

  “Please have a seat.”

  Hank and I took the two wooden chairs opposite him. Bon lowered himself, missed the chair, and nearly toppled backwards. He grabbed the desk in time, dragged the chair behind him, and plunked himself into it. He cleared his throat as I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  “To, uh—to what do I owe this pleasure?” He folded his hands on the desk with the shoulders of his blue uniform bunched up to his prominent ears.

  “Thank you for making time for us.” Hank sat forward. “I’m here to ask about a prisoner named Colin Row. He was incarcerated about thirty years ago for a period of six months.”

  Inspector Bon’s brows drew together and a little line formed between them. “That’s quite a while ago. I wasn’t Inspector back then.”

  Hank nodded. “I understand. But perhaps you have records?” He gave the officer a tight-lipped smile. “Anything would help.”

  Bon cleared his throat. “Well, anything for your highness. Though, our records vault is vast and labyrinthine.” He rose and sat himself on the corner of his desk. He hiked one leg up and looked up and off into the distance. “And we noble officers of the law are tasked with a grueling, never-ending mission to rid the streets of dangerous vermin. It leaves me little time to search old cases, but for someone of your importance I suppose I could make time to—”

  A few quick raps at the door cut him off.

  He sniffed with annoyance. “Yes?”

  The door popped open and a young officer peeked her head in. She smiled at Hank and me. “Sorry, sir, but I couldn’t help but overhear.” She stepped in and handed Bon a faded, bent manila envelope. “Here’s that file these folks were after. Just used a quick summoning spell.”

  Bon flushed bright red as he stared at the file in his hand.

  The officer winked at Hank and me. “The stone walls of this old place are practically soundproof.” She jerked her head to the open rectangular window above the door. “But it gets so hot in the warm months, the transoms make it impossible not to overhear when I sit at the desk just outside.” She bowed to her boss. “I’m just outside if you need me.”

  She closed the door behind her. I didn’t dare look at Hank, or I was sure I’d burst into laughter.

  “Well.” Bon cocked his head and popped his neck. “Some files are more easily located than others.”

  “Of course.” Hank pressed his lips tight together. He reached out a hand. “May I?”

  Bon jumped. “Right. Of course, your highness.” He handed the file to Hank.

  Hank set it on the desk and opened it while Bon and I leaned in to read over his shoulder. He perused a couple of intake forms, scanned a ledger of costs associated with Colin’s imprisonment, and then flipped the page and froze. He lifted the sheet of thick parchment with a stamped blue wax seal.

  “The royal pardon.”

  Bon frowned and leaned in to get a better look. “That’s highly unusual.”

  Hank let out a little noise of surprise. He tapped the paper. “Look at the signature.”

  “Councilor Hardee?” I looked at Hank for the significance of it.

  “He was my father’s top aide and confidant while I was growing up.” Hank frowned at the note again. “He passed away some time ago, but if he signed this, the order itself must’ve come from my father. Or at least he was aware of it.”

  Bon cleared his throat. “As I think on it, I may actually remember this prisoner. I wasn’t Inspector back then, but I was a young officer just starting my career here at the time. Young man? Ill?”

  Hank raised his brows. “Yes, actually. Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

  Bon settled back on the corner of the desk. He folded one arm across his chest to form a shelf and rested the other elbow on it. He shifted on the desk, then shifted again, apparently unable to get just the perfect perch. “Let’s see now, it was quite a few years ago… simpler times when things were—”

  I could see this might be a while. “So, do you remember why he was released?”

  Bon scowled at me. “I was getting there, before you interrupted my reverie.”

  “Getting there slowly,” I muttered to Hank.

  His lips quirked to the side.

  “But no. I don’t think we were told why your old friend was released.” Bon sniffed. “Though I remember it stood out as strange.”

  Hank frowned. “How so?”

  “He was a nobody. Some kid arrested for stealing.” He shrugged. “He’d have been out soon anyway. Well…” He tipped his head from side to side. “If he’d lasted that long. He was quite ill.”

  “With the monster measles?” I leaned forward.

  Bon made a face. “Probably, but who knows. I stayed as far away from the infirmary as possible.” He shuddered. “Germs, and all that.”

  “So they kept a sick boy away from his family for stealing medicine?” I clicked my tongue. “That doesn’t seem just.”

  “It was actually a kindness.” Bon folded his hands. “We had a lot of prisoners at that time who couldn’t afford the treatment that the prison was able to provide. Sending him back out would probably have been a death warrant. Which was another reason it seemed strange to pardon the boy. I remember thinking to myself, if you’re going to free someone, might as well make it someone who was going to live past the end of the week.” He scoffed.

  Hank shook his head. “He was truly that sick?”

  Bon nodded.

  Hank turned to me. “But he was my mentor for years and years after that.” He pressed his lips together. “Come to think of i
t, he was always in perfect health. I don’t think he ever took a sick day… well, except for one time we snuck out to go to the Summer Sea Carnival.”

  I grinned.

  Bon tied us up for another twenty minutes with tales of his early days as an officer. By the time we got out of there it was nearly time for me to return to the bakery.

  I nudged Hank in the airship beside me. “At least we got out of that garden party, huh?”

  He grinned. “Worth it for that alone.” He swallowed, his eyes on the sky and the other airships we zipped past. “Imogen, I’m starting to think my father knows more about Colin’s disappearance than he let on.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

  Hank shook his head. “I can understand why my father would have pardoned Colin to be my mentor, if he somehow discovered he was a swallow. From what I’ve pieced together, my parents were desperate to find someone who could help me control my powers.” He shrugged. “So they might have turned to a criminal, especially one as mild-mannered as Colin.” He steered us towards the huge island that held the kingdom’s castle. A swarm of airships hovered above it. “But what doesn’t make sense is the timeline, for one. My father appears to have pardoned Colin when I was only about two years old. I hadn’t even really begun to develop my powers by then. And furthermore, Colin didn’t start working as my mentor until I was about eight.”

  I frowned. “Yeah. That is weird.”

  “Right? Also, how did Colin make such a miraculous recovery?”

  We finished the flight in silence, both of us lost deep in thought. Hank walked me back to the bakery and we paused outside the white door that blended in with the white walls.

  He took my hands in his and rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs. “I know this wasn’t the most traditional date….”

  “Oh, this was a date?”

  He laughed at the shock on my face. “Okay, no, not really. But I had fun with you all the same.” He looked at me with a lopsided grin. “I always have fun with you.”

  “Aw.” I smiled so big my face hurt.

  “And so, that thing you think I don’t know about, but do…. You don’t need to do anything big, okay? As long as I get to spend time with you, I’ll be happy.” He kissed my forehead.

  I frowned deeply at him. “Come again?”

  He chuckled. “Right.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll play along.”

  “Hank, seriously, I don’t understand what you think—”

  He pushed the door open for me. As we stepped inside there were gasps, clanking pots, a flurry of movement, and then, as we came around the door, six stiff bakers staring back at us with wooden smiles plastered on their faces.

  13

  Horace’s Kitchen

  “Oh, Imogen and Hank. What a surprise.” Maple’s cheeks lost their color.

  Shoot! I’d bet my left kidney Horace was hiding somewhere in this room.

  “Hello.” Hank frowned at them, even as he smiled. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  Sam, Annie, Maple, Yann, and Wiley all spoke at once. “Yep.”

  “Going great!”

  “Never better!”

  “Yessss.”

  Hank grinned brightly and stepped forward. “Good, good. So you wouldn’t mind if I came over there and snagged a cookie or whatever you have baking?”

  “Oh, you know, now’s not the best time.” Annie’s wide eyes bored holes into me.

  “Yeah, you know.” I turned and grabbed Hank’s muscled arm to lead him back out. “I’d better get back to it, and I know you have a busy day of—of….”

  Hank chuckled and dipped his head to kiss me. He winked, his blue eyes sparkling. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, I’ll still act surprised. I know it’s childish of me, but I have to admit, I’m excited.” His eyes danced. “You make me…” He let out an embarrassed laugh, then beamed at me. “Happy.” He straightened and addressed the others. “I’ll leave you to your normal, everyday baking.” He still grinned to himself as he left.

  Once the door had closed behind him, I turned to my friends. “I’m assuming Horace is back there?”

  He straightened from behind the counter, a bored look on his face and a knife in his hand.

  I planted my hands on my hips. “Seriously? With the knife again?”

  He set it on the counter in front of Maple and moved a few steps away. He shrugged. “I held it to your snake friend this time, instead of precious Maple. Happy?”

  “No!” my friends and I chorused as one.

  I shook my head. “Couldn’t you just threaten us with magic?”

  Horace blinked. “Yes. But I’ve found something tangible, something in your hand and up against your throat, seems to motivate people much better than the more ephemeral threat of a spell.”

  Annie rolled her eyes.

  Wiley jabbed a thumb towards the door. “What’s up with lover boy?”

  I lifted my hands. “I have no idea. He’s been dropping little hints that he knows what I’m up to.”

  Maple’s jaw dropped. “Do you think he knows?”

  “That we’re planning to break into Carclaustra? I doubt he’d be in support of that.” I shook my head. “Oh my goddess.” I pressed my hands to my cheeks as my stomach sank. “Oh no. His birthday is on Friday. He’s noticed I’m acting weird, and whispering to Emmaline, and you guys are being secretive—he thinks I’m throwing him a surprise party.” I buried my face in my hands and groaned.

  A deep, throaty noise startled me into looking up.

  Horace was laughing—genuinely laughing. His shoulders shook and he pinched the bridge of his nose. My friends edged away from him, horrified looks on their faces.

  “What’s happening?” Maple’s eyes shifted to my brother.

  I folded my arms and shot Horace a flat look. “Oh, he’s just deriving joy from my misery… which he caused.”

  Horace let out a last chuckle or two, then wiped a tear from under his eye.

  I frowned. Why was I still hearing laughter? I looked to the oven where Iggy had his head thrown back, cackling.

  “Iggy!” I stomped my foot.

  My little flame shook his head. He laughed so hard he wheezed, which puffed glowing embers from his open mouth. “Does—does he want a pony? Face painting? H-have you invited all his classmates?” The last words rose at the end to a high-pitched whine and he devolved into hysterics again.

  I stomped my foot again. “It’s not funny!”

  Horace pressed a fist to his mouth, his face red from the effort of not laughing.

  “It’s sad!” I overenunciated the words. “His own family never even remembered his birthday, and now he thinks I’m being this great girlfriend and making up for his sand hole childhood with a party.”

  Horace snorted, a hand cupped over his mouth.

  I bared my teeth. “But in reality, I’ll be spending Hank’s birthday breaking into prison.”

  Annie lifted a finger. “Oh, so his birthday’s on Friday? I do remember Nan always making him a cake.”

  “Urg!” I huffed. “You guys, he’s going to be so disappointed.”

  Wiley grinned. “Just tell him you’ll have a belated celebration, a sort of delayed sentence, if you will.”

  I glared at him.

  Yann giggled. “Yah. Yust plead guilty to not planning ahead.”

  Annie snickered and I planted my hands on my hips.

  Maple pressed her lips together and tried to hide her smile. “He loves you. I’m sure he’ll grant you a pardon.”

  I raised my brows. “Et tu, Maple? Et tu?”

  Horace rose and cleared his throat. His tight cheeks and pursed lips told me he was still fighting the giggles. Which would have been funny in itself to me if I weren’t so upset. I sighed. Maybe I could convince Hank that I wasn’t throwing him a surprise party. After all, that would probably be the least of my worries on Friday.

  My brother lifted his slim hands. “So. You’ve
decided on Friday?”

  I nodded. “We all talked this morning and agreed.” I walked over and leaned against the cool, smooth countertop. “Emmaline, Hank’s sister-in-law, convinced Urs Volker to allow her ladies’ salon group in for a tour. Well, the ladies and this one guy from the prison board.”

  Horace’s lips split into a grin. He looked me over. “Well done.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a little proud that my older brother was impressed with me. I shook myself. He was impressed that I’d conned a friend. Not cool.

  I lifted a palm. “So, we figured that would get me and Annie in, at least. I’m already included in the salon group, and we thought for Annie—”

  She stood taller. “That I could impersonate some foreign aristocrat, an acquaintance of Imogen’s.” She sniffed and lifted her nose in the air.

  Sam smiled at her. “That’sss how I sssmell the air, too. I never knew fancccy people were ssso much like sssnakesss.”

  “Wise words, Sam.” Iggy grinned.

  Horace drummed his fingers on the countertop, his eyes far away. He nodded to himself and looked up. “Very good. One of you can bring in the portal mirror disguised as a compact.”

  “I’ll do it.” Annie raised a finger. “They never suspect old ladies.”

  I clicked my tongue. “You’re not old.”

  She held up a hand. “Oh, I’m definitely old. And proud of it.”

  Yann grinned down at her.

  “So, we have a way in for us ladies.” I nodded.

  “And I have been helping Iggy memorize the ssschematicsss.” Sam adjusted his glasses.

  “So,” I continued. “We thought, I could bring Iggy to be my guide. We’ll pretend he’s my fancy pet or something, and comes everywhere with me.”

  “You’re a fancy pet,” Iggy grumbled.

  Horace blinked. “You’ll hide him in a lighter.”

  “Okay, fine. But… we haven’t figured out how to get the guys in.” I lifted my palm.

  “I may be able to assist with that.” Horace folded his hands. “They’ll sneak in as guards.”

  Maple bit her lip and looked up at Wiley. “Can’t wait to see you in the uniform.”