Kat on a Hot Tin Airship (Kat Lightfoot Mysteries)

by Sam Stone

  My resolve to remove Dando from this otherworldly room strengthened. I felt no fear of this thing now, and the shadow of darkness, as well as the cold emanating from the demon, fell away as I progressed to the door. But as I reached the threshold, the boy was pulled from my grasp by some invisible force. His small body was thrown back onto the bed, like a small doll, discarded by a spoilt child.

  Dando cried out in fear, but as I tried to run back to him once more, I found myself propelled outside and I fell into the corridor.

  The door closed and faded from sight as though it had never existed. I remained on my hands and knees staring at the wall and realising I was indeed back at the end of the corridor and nowhere near Pepper’s room.

  ‘What the devil is going on?’ I said struggling to my feet.

  I stared at the perfect wall, pressed my ear back where I had found the doorway, but this time no sound issued from inside. Dando was beyond my reach, and the realm he inhabited had expelled me like a drunk being thrown from a brothel.

  I accepted the flask of brandy and sipped cautiously, letting the warming fluid course down my throat.

  ‘This will steady your nerves,’ Pepper insisted.

  ‘My nerves are fine. Honestly.’

  I was sat on a chair in Pepper’s room. It was still full night and Pepper and Martin had heard me crash back into the corridor. They had opened Pepper’s door to find me lying stunned at the end of the corridor. I also discovered that to them it had been only moments since we had all parted.

  ‘I can’t believe we didn’t hear you knock,’ said Martin. ‘We had only just closed the door when we heard you.’

  Of course to me a good half an hour had passed. Maybe longer. I just wasn’t sure, but I knew it wasn’t just seconds.

  ‘It’s obvious that the forces at work here didn’t want our interference. Kat must have crossed the portal to this new dimension as she left us. She was probably never actually knocking at our door at all …’ Martin continued.

  ‘My head is reeling with all this. I had the boy, Dando, in my hands, Callon couldn’t stop me, but something else did.’

  ‘He did tell you he couldn’t leave …’ Pepper said but I didn’t need the reminder.

  ‘I’m intrigued about this ritual …’ Martin said. ‘Religion fascinates me by its accidental accuracy.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Well most of the ceremonies that take place in a church, for example, come directly from our ancestors who didn’t believe in the God we worship now. Their beliefs surrounded nature. The early druids performed sacraments that were about worshipping forces we no longer understand, but they did.’

  ‘Isn’t that linked to Witchcraft?’ Pepper said.

  Martin laughed. ‘Not the way you mean, no. But some magic was employed, yes. But the rituals were carried down, though changed somewhat. These ceremonies are now often performed without the slightest understanding of their true significance. Or their power …’

  I placed the flask back into Pepper’s hands.

  ‘I need to sleep. This has all been too much for me.’

  ‘Perhaps you would be safer here,’ Pepper said. ‘Last time that monster – Callon was he called? – tried to suffocate you.’

  ‘I know. But he has no strength to do it right now. Even if he wanted to. I doubt that in his current state he can even cross over into our realm.’

  Martin and Pepper exchanged a look that showed their mutual concern.

  ‘We have to find out where it draws its energy from and make sure it doesn’t return to full strength then,’ Pepper said.

  ‘Let me know when you figure that one out. It is the one thing that keeps running through my brain that I can’t make any sense of,’ I said. ‘Goodnight.’

  I stood and walked, weary, battered and bruised back to the door.

  13

  I woke to another bright and beautiful day. I had slept solidly and my pocket watch told me that it was well into the morning.

  The wedding feasting was over. The family would be expecting Mother, Sally and I to depart soon, but I knew that I couldn’t leave until I had solved the mystery of the demon at Pollitt Plantation. Callon was dangerous, but there was clearly something else here too.

  I hurriedly dressed and made my way downstairs and to the orangery, where I found Big Momma sipping China tea from porcelain teacups. She was alone.

  ‘Good morning Kat,’ she said cheerfully.

  She looked tired though, and unusually worn as though the week of festivities had finally taken their toll.

  ‘Good morning,’ I said. ‘How are you this fine day?’

  ‘Well to tell you the truth, I didn’t sleep too well. I guess it was all the excitement over the wedding party. It was quite a strain. I wanted everything to be so perfect for Maggie and Henry.’

  ‘It was perfect,’ I said, remembering the magnificent food, the flowing wine and the happy crowd of neighbours, family and friends who had attended.

  Even Maggie and Henry had appeared to enjoy themselves. Although I knew they were both excellent at hiding how they really felt around Big Momma and Big Daddy. I had danced with Orlando too, but I barely remembered the conversation we’d had because for me the evening had been tense, one of waiting until Martin, Pepper and I could finally do our secret research.

  ‘I had strange dreams also …’ Big Momma continued. ‘Like something was choking me.’ She shuddered. ‘Awful.’

  ‘That is awful,’ I said, suddenly alert. ‘Have you … had that dream before?’

  ‘Oh it’s silly. I’m just getting caught up on the superstition of … the blacks. They believe in all that stuff you know. Evil spirits. This thing called voodoo or something …’

  I studied her carefully, feeling for the first time that I was actually seeing her. That she was opening up to tell me something that would help us figure out what was happening.

  ‘It doesn’t sound silly … I have heard of some bizarre religions … but the dream … it’s happened before?’

  Big Momma raised her cup to her lips and sipped the tea. ‘Well … not to me. But Maggie was always talking about a dream like that when she was young. And some of the servants have been known to have disturbed nights that they believed was real. But you know how they are …’

  I didn’t know. Not at all. But I felt I was on the cusp of learning something vital. And though she delivered this information in a casual way, Big Momma was deliberately trying to tell me something.

  ‘Now you feel weak? Tired? A little drained?’ I queried.

  Big Momma nodded. ‘I just need better rest.’

  It occurred to me that maybe this Callon-thing drained energy from people like an incubus might. I wanted to ask her more but as the servants came in with the freshly cooked breakfast, Big Momma changed the subject. I didn’t get another opportunity to question her after that because Amelia appeared with her three obnoxious boys in tow.

  After breakfast I left Big Momma to go in search of my companions. Mother and Sally had taken to going for walks in the morning, always returning for lunch with the family, and so I wasn’t overly worried about them at the time.

  Outside the airship remained in situ, dwarfing the house, glowing in the sunshine. I touched the metal on the side of the hull and discovered it was warm, but not hot. Then, I slipped off my day skirt, revealing my tight breeches beneath, and climbed up onto the deck via the rope ladder that still hung over the side. I was sure Martin would be here, but also I was curious to see the new ship and the dials that he had been so secretive about.

  As I jumped down onto the deck I looked over the horizon and saw the sun drifting beneath a thick black cloud. Out to sea the daylight was plummeting as storm clouds gathered. So far we’d had nothing but beautiful weather since we arrived, but now a storm was brewing. Although it looked as though it would be many hours before it reached us.

  I shrugged, then looked around the deck, wondering where to explore first. I fel
t that familiar wave of excitement as I knew I was on the cusp of learning more about Martin’s wonderful invention.

  ‘Miss Kat? Are you up on that thing?’

  I hurried along the deck and looked over the side to see Orlando standing below.

  ‘Hello,’ I said.

  ‘Can I come up?’

  ‘No. I’ll come down to you. I was looking for Martin. I don’t suppose you have seen him and Pepper have you?’

  I didn’t think that Martin would like having Orlando on board his ship and so I climbed back over the rail and onto the rope ladder. When I reached the bottom I realised that Orlando was a little bit confused by my lack of dress. And somewhat embarrassed because he could now see the shape of my legs and hips in the tight breeches.

  I picked up my skirt from the grass where I had left it.

  ‘No. I’m afraid I haven’t seen them,’ Orlando said, trying to hide his confusion. ‘But the horses are ready.’

  ‘Horses?’

  ‘Yes. Last night, when we were talking, you said you’d like to take a ride around the plantation … but if you’ve changed your mind …’

  With all of the excitement from the night before I had completely forgotten the conversation I’d had with Orlando.

  ‘Oh no! That’s fine. In fact that is a really good idea.’

  ‘Perhaps you would …’ he said.

  ‘No, this is perfect for riding in,’ I said. But I knew that Mother might not be too impressed if she saw me like this here. She had, in fact, ordered me to leave the breeches behind. But I had put them inside my carpet bag, just in case.

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ I said to Orlando.

  I hurried up the external stairs, onto the balcony and into my room where I deposited my skirt on top of the bed.

  By the time I reached the stables, Orlando was waiting. He was petting a horse that had black and white patches on it. I had never seen one like this before. I was used to the full colour Bays, or Chestnuts, that were preferred by the Hansom cab drivers in New York. This was a beautiful animal though. It appeared to be sturdier than the horses I had ridden in Central Park.

  ‘These were favoured by the Apache Indians,’ Orlando explained. ‘Since you were dressed differently I took the liberty of having the saddle changed from side to normal.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘She’s called Felina. And she’s got a real sweet temperament,’ Orlando explained.

  Orlando helped me up into the saddle and I petted Felina’s neck as I talked to her. Then, once he was up on his own mount – a slightly bigger brown and white patched stallion called Aron – Orlando turned the reins and led us away from the paddock.

  As we rode away from the house it crossed my mind to be concerned that I hadn’t seen Pepper or Martin at all yet, but of course my friends were more than likely trying to find out all they could about the Plantation and the family history.

  Orlando took off across the flat landscape and Aron’s long legs galloped away. Immediately Felina, as though she had been trained to follow Aron, picked up her pace and I found myself galloping after him. The wind ripped through the lose bun I had carelessly twisted my hair into earlier, and I felt the pins coming lose. My hair fell down in waves over my shoulders, but I really didn’t mind. The air felt wonderful. I had almost forgotten how good it was to ride on open land.

  Orlando slowed as we reached the edge of the cotton plants. A crew of workers were picking the cotton as we trotted by. I was surprised to see white men and women among them, working side by side with the black workers.

  ‘Every harvest we need a little more help, so we draft in anyone willing to put in a hard day’s work,’ Orlando explained as though he could read my thoughts.

  ‘That’s very progressive of you,’ I said.

  We passed on, out towards the worker’s village, skirting around the edge, but not passing the small huts this time as we reached the side of a dense patch of forest.

  ‘I want to show you something,’ Orlando said. He nudged Aron forward and into the trees.

  The vegetation thickened as we weaved slowly through it. Felina traversed the terrain, stepping over large, over-grown roots and fallen branches with sure-footed confidence. It was as though she often came here and knew the way without thinking. And yet there was no natural, worn path, and the way appeared to be for the most part untraveled.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

  Orlando smiled over his shoulder. ‘You’ll like this … I promise.’

  We rode on a while longer, and I began to feel some concern about finding my way back if I were to have the misfortune to lose Orlando. Up ahead I saw a slice of sun cutting through the trees, which indicated that they were finally thinning.

  We came into a clearing and there, much to my surprise, was a table set with food and Isaac standing by to wait on us.

  ‘I thought we might have a nice lunch together,’ Orlando said. He brought Aron to a stop, jumped down, tied his reins to one of the trees and turned to help me. I jumped down myself and once again I saw that slight flush of embarrassment cross Orlando’s features. It amazed me that he was so shy.

  ‘This is nice,’ I said, but I felt slightly nervy. Once more my comfort zone had been breached, and I felt my senses being bombarded by this overly attractive, sensitive and charismatic man. The most confusing thing for me was that I had to keep reminding myself that Orlando was half-demon. He couldn’t be liked. He couldn’t be trusted. But still, despite myself, I did like him. It wasn’t like me at all. Yet when I was around him I felt safe. It was peculiar. And unnatural to me. Especially when I knew there was something so completely wrong with this place.

  It began to worry me that other than the small silver dagger in my boot, I was completely unarmed. Even so I hid my feelings as I took a seat at the small table and let Isaac fill my plate with a selection of fresh cheeses and some fruit. On the table was a carafe of wine, two glasses, and a bowl containing cut up pieces of bread.

  I ate slowly because it wasn’t that long since we had eaten breakfast and by the time we finished, and had sipped a glass of crisp white wine, the sky above us was darkening.

  I had of course forgotten completely that there was a storm on its way, and it arrived far quicker than I had anticipated it would.

  Drops of rain splattered the table.

  ‘Oh my!’ said Orlando. ‘I had better get you under cover, Miss Kat. I’m so sorry!’

  I laughed. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about, you didn’t make this storm happen.’

  We climbed back on our horses.

  ‘What about Isaac?’ I said as I saw him clearing away the plates and glasses into a small barrow.

  ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t that far from the house. I just took you the long way around so that we would benefit more from the ride.’

  I nodded and urged Felina back through the trees, following Orlando as he pointed Aron in what I hoped was the right direction for the house.

  A roll of thunder echoed above us as the forest thickened again. The brief glimpse I had of the sky showed a thick black cloud drifting over us, just before the forest became as dark as night.

  Felina stumbled a little, her feet now unsure, and her calm temperament became jittery.

  ‘Perhaps we should walk the horse through?’ I called to Orlando but he didn’t hear me as the rain started to beat down in earnest.

  Within seconds, and despite the cover of the trees, I was drenched and I felt the ground beneath Felina’s feet become slippery and dangerous.

  ‘Orlando!’ I called out.

  He was much farther ahead of me now and didn’t look back when I called. I began to wonder if we were going to make it back to the house at all.

  The rain beat down into my eyes and it was difficult to see. Felina slipped again, and I made a decision to rein her in and climb down. I pushed the rain from my face, forced my long wet hair out of my eyes and began to lead Felina through the mud and thick roots, towards the s
et of trees that I had last seen Orlando pass. I couldn’t see his figure at all now but I wondered if he could still see me if he glanced back, and if he had noticed I had dismounted.

  Felina tugged at the reins as another clap of thunder, closer this time, frightened her. I coaxed her forward, weaving the leather around my hand to prevent the reins from slipping from my wet fingers. As we reached the next tree, I pulled her close underneath its wide branches and once again wiped the rain away from my face. I petted her as I looked around trying to get my bearings. The forest was still too dense to see beyond it, and I couldn’t see Orlando anywhere.

  A flash of lightning lit up the trees. Felina mewed and twisted, but I yanked back on the bit, bringing her under control before she became too agitated. She didn’t pull back, but didn’t fully settle either. I was surprised that a storm could affect her so much, but there was something unusual about this one. It was so dark it was almost night. Hard to imagine we could go from such fine weather to this in such a short space of time.

  I debated, waiting to see if Orlando realised that he had lost me, but then with Felina’s increasing irritation, I decided it might be best to keep moving.

  Another flash of lightning lit the sky through the branches overhead, and I thought I saw movement in the trees to my left. Surely Orlando had gone that way. I pulled Felina onwards. I could see horse tracks in the mud now and so followed. The forest began to thin, and with relief I approached another clearing.

  14

  I slowed as I grew closer.

  The clearing was full of people. Mostly the black servants, but I saw an occasional white face among them. Big Daddy was there, holding centre stage as he sat on a huge, roughly carved wooden throne, like a King overlooking his courtiers.

  The head house servant, Isaac, was wearing a long white robe and was carrying a staff that was almost as tall as he was. The staff had bones tied to and hanging from it and they clattered together as Isaac shook his wrist. The congregation, for now I realised that was what they were, grew quiet.