Dread washed over me, and I tried to keep up with Ashton. I lunged forward, panic-stricken with the need to run, to get away.
That was no man. Not any longer.
Papers and broken crockery shifted under my boot soles and I nearly toppled again.
Ashton’s hand shot out, steadying me. He led us along the wall, climbing first the fireplace hearth and then the built-in shelving. The searching beam of the Aero Squad dirigible shone in a window on the same wall as the front door. I ducked as it passed over the side of the jailhouse.
“How will we get outside?”
“Through here,” Ashton answered, nodding to the window.
“I am beginning to hate windows,” I muttered, remembering my father recently shoved me out of one.
“Shield your eyes.” Along the side of the jailhouse, now, Ashton broke the glass with his elbow. “I’ll climb out first.” He hoisted himself out the window and I prayed that the rails of the porch on which he stood held fast. “One moment.”
“Ash?” I shook, my sweaty palms gripping the sill as the entire jailhouse swung like a pendulum.
Shadows flitted across the wall, escaping citizens on every manner of lighter-than-air craft.
A sickening chattering of teeth sounded from the dark nearby.
“Keep calm.” Ashton threw a cloth over the ragged pieces of glass still in the window and took my hands.
My mouth dropped open at the sight of his is bare chest and it took me a moment to realize he’d used his shirt to protect me from the glass. I quelled the urge to avert my eyes.
“I have you…trust me.”
I did not allow myself to think. I forced my legs to move, crawling to him, kicking as he pulled me out to the rails of the porch. The leather bodice shielded me from the worst of the shards, but my skirt caught. Ashton reached up, yanked it free with a rip, and then pulled his shredded shirt from the window sill.
In the distance, circling air ships of every kind cast ropes at the south tower as citizens tried desperately to keep the port from plunging from the sky.
Riley scrambled atop the smoking rotor. He fired at the Aero Squad ships, his screams of anger echoing as their jagged ropes of light snapped.
I glimpsed past my feet, and instantly regretted it. Between the rails of the creaking porch the vast expanse churned with cerulean-hued vapor. Dizzy, I sank to my knees. “We’re going to fall,” I whispered. “We will plummet forever.”
“Nonsense,” Ashton said with a reassuring smile. He pulled on his shirt, the unbuttoned sides flapping with his dark hair in the wind. “This is the best place we could be in this situation. Look.”
I followed his gaze and saw a large, black airship below us. Illuminated by a lamp at the helm, the old tinkerer gestured up at us.
“Berkley!” I nearly fainted with relief.
His ship moved slowly, the cargo straining the forward propellers. Two clusters of air bladders, fore and aft, held the dark behemoth aloft.
“Duck!” Berkley yelled and aimed his rifle in our direction.
I screamed as a metal arrow slammed into the wall near Ashton’s head. A blast sounded a second later, the black powder explosive burying two support claws.
Ashton grabbed the end of a rope strung on a pulley and wrapped it around my waist.
“You cannot be serious,” I said, my heart ramming.
“Take this,” he said and ripped the bottom of his shirt. He wrapped the cloth around my hand. “So the rope won’t tear your palm.”
“Are you mad?” I tried to back away.
A crash at the window jolted me and the pale blue flesh of the Trembler’s arm snaked through the opening. It shrieked and clawed the air just above our heads. I fought the terror building in me, tears streaming as I gripped the railing.
“Don’t look at him.” Ashton knelt down, held me with a dark gaze. “Look at me, follow me, Charlie.”
“I am not Lizzie,” I stammered. “I’m not…I don’t do these things.”
“Of course you do.” He took my hand, sat with his legs dangling over the top of the railing. “You are your father’s daughter. You have adventure in your blood.”
“And my heart beats for battle,” I repeated my father’s words.
“It does,” Ashton agreed, his smile reassuring.
“But if I miscalculate…” I could not catch my breath as the jailhouse swung again. “I’ll go sailing off. I’ll miss the ship entirely.”
“Then don’t miss.” Ashton tugged on my arm gently, easing me to sit beside him. He tilted my chin making me look into his eyes. “You are stronger than you know.”
The Trembler’s face emerged from the darkness, his head craning out the window. Wild, black eyes searched for and locked on us. Snapping its jaw, it grunted, straining to reach with tattered limbs. Overhead an ominous creak spurred me to move. No time…there was no time to think. “W—when?”
“Now!” Ashton shouted and pushed me from the railing.
I screamed as I fell, the cloth doing little to quell the fire of the rope as I desperately tried to slow my descent. I sailed between the two clusters of balloons, my boots careening off one bunch, and sending me smashing into the other. Eyes clenched, I twisted with the rope as I crashed to the deck of the airship with a bone-jarring thud. I writhed, gasping for air. Ashton landed next to me, his boots hitting the planks as he fell into a roll.
“Watch out,” Berkley shouted.
Ashton’s arms snaked out, pulling me to him just as the rope pooled, and the grappling arrow toppled to the wood with a splintering clatter.
I trembled in his arms, catching my breath and peering at my reddened palms with shock. Relief flooded me and I laughed with hysterical guffaws.
“I’m not dead.” I looked at Ashton, bewildered. “I’m not dead.”
“You were magnificent, Charlie.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around me, his low chuckle vibrating against my chest. All at once, his face changed, and he pulled me closer, taking me in a kiss that sent a ribbon of heat tearing through me.
My lips moved with his, a sigh escaping my throat, as I clung to him.
He pulled away, blinking. “I—I apologize, Miss Blackburn,” he stammered.
Shocked, I brought my hand to my mouth, unable to answer. Battle worn and scruffy, he seemed every bit the warrior-knight, and I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine again. “It was the moment,” I said with a shaking breath. “The excitement and fear.”
“No, of course.” He cleared his throat, holding my gaze and what flitted in his deep eyes made my breath catch. Ashton stepped from my grasp, the palms of his hands sliding down my arms to my hands before dropping away. He took in a slow breath, and an unreadable expression settled on his handsome features. “You…you were very brave, Miss Blackburn.”
“Miss Blackburn?” I took in his balled fists and taut jaw and shook my head. “Are you quite serious?”
Ashton shot an exasperated look at me.
What had just happened?
“We’re not out of danger, yet,” Berkley shouted from the wheel.
“They spotted us.” I pointed, straining to see above and beyond the ship’s air balloons.
Flying in formation, three Aero Squad dirigibles soared toward us. Their search beams trained on the deck and the searing heat of the lamp light sent me staggering backwards. They would be upon us in minutes.
“Defensive armory?” Ashton yelled. “What do you have?”
“N—nothing…I’m just a tinkerer,” Berkley shouted. “I have no weapons save for my pistol and grappling rifle. There’s a tracer gun, but it won’t work outside the dome; it’s no help to us without the calibration codes to the power source on their ships.”
“What of your cargo?” Ashton pointed to the bound stacks of crates.
“Vases and bottles,” Berkley said. “A favor for a friend.”
Ashton paced, running his hands through his dark hair as he muttered. He ran to the bins and crates along the deck, diggi
ng in them as he cursed under his breath.
I watched him with growing dread and then I did the same, opening storage hatches and peering at all manner of equipment and ropes, none of which I had any idea what to do with. What could we do?
Ashton turned. He held a bottle of oil in his hands, a hammer in the other, his expression dark. “Nothing. There’s not one thing.” All at once his gaze snapped to mine. “What can you do in a pinch?”
“What?” I looked behind me, sure he spoke to someone else. “A pinch?”
“You made those lorgnettes, yes? Treated the lens with chemicals?” He caught me with either hand at my shoulders. “Colonel Blackburn is a chemist…surely you know something.”
“But it’s…its poetry…” I could not ascertain what Ashton meant.
Turning to Berkley, Ashton nodded at the approaching ships. “Can you buy us time? This black hull…”
“If I can evade their search beams, then they will not see us in the dark sky, but we need to get clear of them. Their tracer guns have a long enough range to take out the air bladders.”
“Give us as long as you can.”
“Go!” Berkley shouted and spun the wheel.
We banked in a steep curve and I stumbled toward the hatch with Ashton close behind. Charging through to the galley, I held on, panting. We lurched, dipping in the sky and sending my stomach to my throat.
“Think,” Ashton landed next to me, one arm snaking around my waist and holding me against the counter. “Look at what we have to work with, calm down, and think.”
“I …” Gaze frantically sweeping the counter, I pawed at the drawers, pulling out spices and oils. “There is nothing here.” I opened cabinets and knocked over igniters and cleaning rags, brushed past plates and utensils. Turning my attention to the cabinet near the engine hatch, I peered at bottles of solvents and unlabeled liquids. I opened each one, sniffing the acrid contents. I could identify less than half of them. “The most I could do is to start a fire on this ship, not theirs.”
“Anything is better than waiting for them to get within our pistol range. We’ll be dead before we aim.” Ashton shook his head, jaw set. “I cannot accept that.”
A can filled with metal disks rattled as the ship moved, and I picked it up. My gaze went from it and back to the jar of clear liquid in my hand. I froze. “A fundamental truth.”
“You have something?” Ashton searched my face, hope flitting across his dark eyes. “Tell me.”
“Fire is a chemical reaction,” I whispered, repeating my father’s lessons. I turned to Ashton and grabbed his shirt lapels. “I need more of those blasting caps.”
“From the grappling arrows?”
“Yes,” I bounced on the soles of my feet. “I have a plan.”
18
Hands trembling, I knelt on the deck and used a spoon to drip the mixture into the make-shift flask near my knees. It hissed, each drop turning the concoction darker. Fumes rose in lazy rivulets, and I held my breath as I donned a pair of Berkley’s work gloves.
“How are you coming along?” Ashton panted as he wove sections of cloth torn from my skirt into tiny braids.
“Uh…I have no idea if this will work, Ashton.”
“I have every confidence in you.” He handed me the wicks and winked.
I tried to smile, but my gaze slid to the approaching vessels and a whimper of panic escaped my lips. “They’re closing in.”
“They haven’t caught us yet. We still have a fighting chance. Now concentrate.”
Each grain precious, I held my breath as I pried open another metal disk. Turbulence shook the ship and I nearly toppled over, but Ashton caught me, steadying me by the elbow as I fought to work faster. I shook dark granules into the cloth in my lap. Ashton knelt beside me, loading the grappling rifle and aiming across the aft deck. Just beyond his shoulder, Berkley released the foremost jib rope, tacking as we sailed into the draft. A cluster of air sacs shifted, the propeller squealing as he pulled on the rigging.
The Aero Squad descended, their warning horns deafening. They panned the lights to and fro, barely missing our hull. Concussion bombs rattled over the ship as they dropped the blasts in search of us.
“I need to shoot leeward,” Ashton shouted and Berkley nodded. To me, “Almost done?”
“First one is ready.” I scraped the last of the powder from the blasting cap and bundled it in the cloth. Trussing it in a small bag, I dipped the pouch in the mixture, careful to keep from dripping on my legs, and handed it to Ashton. “Make sure the wick trails off to just under the arrowhead. The blast to bury the support claws should trigger the fuse.”
“Tie it on.” He tilted the rifle and I entwined the wires, affixing the bag to the arrow. Snaking the fuse, I bit my lip, willing my fingers to stop shaking.
His gaze steadied me as he met mine with confidence and asked, “Ready?”
“Yes.” I nodded, not at all sure. Screwing the flask lid shut, I held it close. “Go!”
“Berkley,” Ashton shouted. “Bring us about.”
Another concussion round clattered along the starboard side, so close it sent the windows blasting inward. The search beam slashed toward our ship, zeroing in on the location of our craft. They’d found us. So swiftly I scarcely believed it, the vessel banked, heading toward us in a steep dive.
“Now,” I screamed over the tumult, my hand to Ashton’s shoulder. “Their port engine.”
Ashton stilled with absolute focus; the cacophony around us, the flare of tracer guns, nothing pulled him from his aim as he followed the Aero Squad ship with precision.
I held my breath, nearly shouting with anticipation when he fired.
The arrow cut through the dark night angling upwards. It hit the lead ship dead on. The hard thwack of the grappling arrow on wood echoed off the craft.
They answered with a trail of purple heat that sizzled along the planks toward us.
Ashton dove for me, rolled to cover. The liquid sizzled dangerously in the container and a cold sweat broke out over me as I willed it to stabilize.
He glanced at me. “How long until—”
The support claws on the arrow fired, igniting the pouch. A fireball billowed over the hull of the vessel engulfing the craft in seething flames.
The heat of it pitched me backwards, my hair flaring outwards, as I stared agape at the furious blaze.
Soldiers shouted, scrambling to reach the inferno consuming their ship.
“Whoa…” I murmured shocked at the intensity of the explosion. I looked at the flask in my hand. “Perhaps I should have—”
“One away!” Ashton turned to me, jaw set. “Next.”
I repeated the process as fast as I could, looking up at the Aero Squad at times. Their lead ship in trouble, the remaining crafts broke away, flanking us and gaining fast.
“We can’t fire at both of them,” I panted, holding up the last arrow. “What will you do?”
“Not miss,” Ashton said and smiled, his dark eyes alight.
“One-on-one is a fair fight at the very least,” Berkley snarled. “Hang on, lass, we’re tacking across the wind.” Spinning the wheel, the ship shuddered with the force.
Coming about, the aero ships slid into view as they barreled toward us.
Willing the panic to subside, I blocked their looming attack from my mind, tied the little satchel to Ashton’s proffered rifle, and nodded. “Last arrow.”
“Steady,” Ashton said to Berkley.
The old tinkerer nodded, his jaw working.
Turning, Ashton crouched at the starboard rail, took aim up at the aero ship and fired.
The strike of the arrow on the hull sounded much louder than I expected. Horror swept through me. They were too close!
Multiple fissures of light snapped down as the soldiers aimed for Ashton.
I threw the flask over the side of the ship and scrambled to the mast, clinging to it as the second blast tore across the sky.
The fire lashed out from b
eneath the aero ship, lapping at our sails and buffeting the air sacs above us. A super-heated wind whipped back, sending all three of us to the deck.
I buried my head in my arms, screaming as scorching sparks rained down.
The explosion rammed us into the ship on our port side, and we listed, battering the smaller vessel like an insignificant buoy. It careened away, tracer lashes whipping off in all directions as soldiers tumbled across the deck.
Overhead, fire erupted in a whoosh across our ship’s rigging, the balloons blistering and popping with the flames. Molten rubber rained down, plopping in giant, hissing puddles along the helm and aft deck.
“Cut it loose!” Ashton shouted as he tossed the rifle aside and wound his forearm around a rigging rope. Catching me by the waist, he pulled me to his chest in a tight embrace. “Now, Berkley!”
“Brace yourselves!” Berkley yanked down on a brass lever, the knob clanging against the helm’s wheel. The aft air sac cluster ripped away from the deck of the ship, staggering us into a steep angle as we fell from the sky.
I screamed, clutching onto Ashton.
Berkley flailed at the controls, furiously winding the wheel at his knee.
The fore air sacs moved in clattering jolts to the center mass of the ship, evening out our keel as we dropped.
“Hold on,” Ashton’s voice in my ear sounded strong and sure. “I’ve got you.”
Our feet lifted from the deck as we plummeted; weightless for a fleeting moment, we floated together in space before smashing into the sea. Toppling to the deck, we fell in a jarring tangle of arms and legs in the frigid wash. The ship hit an oncoming swell, and a tremendous wave rushed over the side, nearly rolling us over.
“I can’t—I can’t…” I writhed, panic-stricken as seawater sprayed, shockingly cold, in my face. I pulled at my bodice, desperate for the breath knocked out of me.
“It’s over.” Ashton reached for me.
Pushed to near hysteria, I sucked in a greedy breath, fear rushing from me in a jagged wail as I fought my panic. “No more! I cannot take any more, please!”
“The fire is out.” He held me close as I buried my face in his chest, sobbing. Rocking me in his arms, the heat of his breath brushed my temple. “You are all right. We are all right, now.”
The Tremblers Page 15