The Mystery of Emerald Flame (Verity Fitzroy and the Ministry Seven Book 2)

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The Mystery of Emerald Flame (Verity Fitzroy and the Ministry Seven Book 2) Page 9

by Pip Ballantine


  Verity went to open her mouth to explain that to her Scottish friend, but Henry got their first. “Maybe the Ministry is a comfort to you, Miss McTighe, but they are a business partner to us. We take their money, but we earn it fair and square. This is our business, personal like, and we fix it ourselves.”

  Emma nodded sagely. “Don’t trust adults, Miss. We’ve done that in our time, all of us, and it always ends badly.”

  Julia stared around at all of them, taking in their serious faces and realisation dawned over her face. It was an alien way of thinking to this child of privilege but the Seven relied only on themselves. After being chased by the Illuminati and shot at, after witnessing the life of the Underground and its Queen, a little part of the rich young lady, started to comprehend what the world was for other people.

  Luckily, she didn’t try to explain their lives to them, probably because she must have witnessed many people at Castle McTighe doing the very same thing to her uncle. Lord Hamish might have money, but he also existed outside the boundaries of what was considered normal society.

  Instead, Julia folded her hands, and leaned back, letting the Ministry Seven conduct business as they saw fit.

  “A vote then,” Henry said, pushing his dark hair out of his face, and looking far older than Verity ever noticed before. “Those is favour of legging it out of London, make yourself known.”

  Only Christopher put his hand up.

  Henry let out a sigh. “Those in favour of splitting up and following Verity’s plan, raise yours.”

  Everyone else, including Julia and Potts put their hands up. Verity chose not to point out they didn't really get a vote, but the message was there.

  Christopher swore under his breath, while the automaton muttered, “Birmingham, imagine. All those peaky blinders to contend with…”

  Emma shuddered and squeezed him, even though the little brass man was in no danger of being sliced by anyone.

  Henry stared at his shoes, and then jerked his head to take Verity to one side. She didn’t want to argue, but he might just start one in front of the others anyway, so she followed him around the corner.

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Do you honestly think this is the best thing, Verity? Do you think it’s safe?”

  It was a ridiculous question, but something about the soft tone of his voice stopped her from just barking back. So she considered, thinking through the options again, before telling him the harsh truth. “Nothing we do is safe, Henry. Living isn’t safe for any of us, but I honestly believe that Onslow Square is our home, and worth fighting for.”

  He glanced up at her from under his cap. “And this Emerald Flame thing, you still want to chase it even after your uncle warned you off?”

  Going to answer, she paused and really thought about that too. The memory of the Silver Pharaoh chasing her through the burning Delancy Academy was still very fresh to her. Should she just stay in London to help Henry with the Illuminati, and take Octavius’ advice to leave well enough alone?

  Considering that possibility, looking down that line to a future where she made that choice, she had the answer.

  “Yes,” she said, “because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. They were my parents, Henry. I loved them, and they loved me. That has to mean something. If my uncle had anything to do with their deaths, he has to be brought to justice.”

  She didn’t mention the mighty machine she’d seen in the pharaoh’s tomb, that seemed too far-fetched to be inserted into a logical argument right now.

  Henry chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, and he had to be thinking about his own parents, both dead, but only one of them laden with terrible memories. Finally, he gave a stiff nod. “Just make me a promise you’ll have a care, right? You won’t get yourself killed or nothing. I won’t be there to fly in on an ornithopter to pick you up.”

  It had been a marvellous moment now that she looked back on it, knowing it wouldn’t end in disaster. She tapped him on the back of the hand and smiled. “I’ll be careful, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just make our house safe for me, alright?”

  He scuffed his foot on the floor and grumbled, “Be sure you are, or I’ll be bloody cross with you.”

  Verity blushed, unable to find the words for this now awkward moment.

  “Come on then,” she said, moving to return to the others.

  That was when he squeezed her hand, for a brief moment. A frisson of electricity shot up her spine at that little gesture, and a rush of blood to her head didn’t help matters. Henry was a challenge, but she allowed herself the understanding that he was also handsome, smart and loyal. A physical reaction to him was not unexpected.

  When she went back to the others she was sure they could make out the red in her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she spoke with more authority than she felt at that moment. “Henry will be in charge on the London end then, and I’ll take care of Anatolia.”

  Christopher looked like he might just punch the rock wall, but after a second, he nodded. “Just so you know, I hate bloody airships.”

  “Oh, he’s going to be delightful,” Potts piped in. “Already I can see the chances of success are high.”

  Verity’s hands clenched into fists, as she wondered if her choices had been the right ones. What possible future might lie ahead, and would it ever turn out like she hoped. Whichever it was, it would take more than sarcasm to get them through.

  Chapter Eleven

  On the way to Anatolia

  It was almost embarrassing how quickly Julia got them on the next airship to the Ottoman Empire. She didn't even seem to know as she stood at the counter, how what she was doing underscored the difference between them.

  Verity watched from the shadows of the aeropot with Emma, Liam, Christopher and Potts.

  "Got a bit of dosh then," Christopher said, tilting his cap down to watch the Scottish girl discuss which routes were best with the ticketing agent.

  Verity knew what had to be going through the boy's mind. She tapped him on the shoulder, "Now don't finish that thought. She's helping us, and she's my friend. I won't take it very well if something goes missing from her."

  He clasped his hand to his throat as if distressed she would think such things. "I won't touch a curly red hair on her head," he replied.

  Liam pushed closer to her. "I didn't like that airship thing last time neither. And this will be much longer right?"

  Christopher leaned down, "It's over night, boy. Swinging about in that basket underneath..."

  It was Emma that bopped him on the head, not Verity. "Shut your mouth, Chris. We're as safe as houses. Better than catching a lift on the back of a London tram."

  Liam relaxed a little bit after that. When Julia returned she'd secured them berth on the Sky Queen, and Verity took that as a good sign. Perhaps the Underground Queen was watching them. Maybe they'd seen all this in the light and shadow?

  Sharing a berth with four other children and a very mouthy automaton was certainly not Verity's idea of a fine time, but she bore it. Liam, after his initial doubts, loved the airship. He spent the two days it took to get to Constantinople running from bow to stern, getting under passengers and crew's feet. He asked so many questions, in a ceaseless flood, that Verity gave up on keeping him in check, and let him bother stewards with them.

  Christopher stayed in his swaying hammock, hat pulled over his face and ignored the fact that they were thousands of feet in the air as best he could. Emma spent every waking moment hovering around Potts. She got it in her head that the rotund automaton was in danger of rolling off the side of the Sky Queen and bouncing to his death. No matter how much he fussed at her to leave him alone, she tagged along wherever he went. It didn't matter how curt he was with her, the young girl simply let it roll off her.

  Verity found the whole thing amusing, and enjoyed the prickly retorts Potts gave, followed by an absolute void of understanding on Emma's part.

  What did worry her though was Julia McTighe.
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br />   After the initial elation of getting them on their way, the Scottish girl made an effort to keep herself out the way on the first day. She disappeared into the airship somewhere, only to return at night, when she slipped into her hammock with nary a word.

  On the second day Verity decided she had to have it out with the girl, because soon enough they would be meeting Una McTighe and then all their politeness would have to be on.

  So, she went hunting for Julia, leaving Potts to his frustration, Emma to her adulation, Christopher to his pout, and Liam with his curiosity. She could do nothing about any of those, but she could find out where her friend's thoughts lay.

  Finally, in the empty dining area, she discovered Julia, sitting with a pot of tea and an empty cup, staring out the window at the clouds. Sliding in next to her, Verity felt the pot. Stone cold.

  Taking hold of it and the cup from Julia's hands, she deposited them back at the service window, and from the automaton behind the counter retrieved a fresh pot and two cups.

  Only when it had steeped, and she poured one for each of them did she even attempt to speak.

  "It's your mother isn't it?"

  Julia didn't meet her eyes, but she accepted the cup and began filling it with sugar cubes. "I canna even remember her face very well."

  "When did you last see her?"

  Julia's green eyes locked with hers. "You know when."

  They had shared each other's memories, and Verity hadn't forgotten the tableaux of Hamish and Una arguing in the castle. "Oh," she said, carefully stirring her cup. "So awhile then."

  "What am I supposed to say to her?" Julia still put more sugar cubes in. It was now more sugar than tea. "By the time she was my age, me mother was already at university studying aether particles. I'm an idiot compared to her."

  Verity understood that her friend was feeling down on herself, but that self-indulgent lie wouldn't stand with her. "You're plenty smart, Julia. Remember how you threw together that device so we could communicate with the dead? How many idiots do you know who could do that?"

  The hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Julia's lips, but then she frowned. "I was just messing with something already made. My mother has invented several aether devices sold all around the world. Just like me uncle."

  Verity reached across and grabbed her hand. "Do you want me to tell you the truth, or do you want to hold onto your fears a bit longer?"

  Julia straightened up and shot her a shocked look. "What do you mean by that?"

  Verity shrugged. "Sometimes people need to wallow, so they can drag themselves out of it. Other times they want people to tell them the real situation. I only wanted to understand what you wanted."

  "Aye, let's try the truth then."

  "You're a smart young woman, and you're afraid to meet your mother because you don't know what you will make of each other."

  Julia took a long sip of her tea before answering. "You're nae wrong there."

  "Whatever you find, is what you find," Verity said, leaning back, cup in hand. "Think of it this way, and it might be hard. She's your mother, but she's also a person, who can make mistakes, and has all kinds of flaws. Don't put her on a pedestal."

  Julia smiled slowly, and then drained her whole cup of tea even though it was still very hot. Then letting out a gasp, she said, "How is it, that you are so damned smart about this, Miss Verity Fitzroy?"

  She let out a long sigh in response to that question, because it was one she had thought about long and hard in her moments alone since joining the Seven. "It's easy to forget our parents are humans too. I had made mine into carved gods myself, and their only mistake was dying. But then I started to remember their arguments, their forgetfulness, and their stupid jokes. Whatever happened to them, they were people." She leaned forward. "And I was angry for them for that last bit... getting themselves killed. Don't tell me you're not angry with your mother's choices..."

  Julia pulled her wild curls back off her face and stared out the window for a moment. Back in the academy she'd displayed plenty of the legendary temper of the Scots, as well as the off-centred nature of the McTighes, but now Verity observed something else, real, deep-seated disappointment.

  Verity's parents hadn't wanted to leave her, while Una McTighe had chosen to put her work ahead of her daughter.

  "Yes," Julia whispered softly, "I canna pretend different. I love my uncle, but my mother... after my father died she was all I had… and she left." She spoke the last words and turned her eyes to Verity. They were full of anger and sadness. She looked as if she couldn't decide if she should smash something or fall into tears.

  "You should tell her that when you see her," Verity said, leaning over and giving her friend's hand a squeeze. "Before anything, have the talk with her."

  Julia nodded. "I… I will try."

  They finished up the pot of tea, and in Julia's case all of the sugar in the canister, before heading back to the cabin. As they reached the door, a call went out from the deck. "Landing ho!"

  Liam came whizzing down the stairs, his face alight with excitement. "They let me into the crow's nest, it was bloody brilliant! I saw the city and everything! Constan…constan… something…I dunno…”

  It was hard not to catch a little of his infectious joy in the moment.

  All of the children, even Christopher raced to a window to stare out.

  "The second city of Rome," Verity whispered, as the sunlight glinted off the waters of the Bospherous Straight, and the domed roof of the Blue Mosque.

  "It's where east meets west," Julia said, her voice tinged with the same excitement as Liam. "I've never been this far from home."

  "Us neither," Christopher added, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. "I wonder what sort of larks we could get up to on those streets."

  Verity elbowed him hard in the ribs. "They have their own street children down there I am sure. They'd eat us alive, just like we would if they dropped into London."

  They watched at their airship took her place with all the others waiting for their turn to dock at the busy aeroport. It seemed to take forever, but eventually their number was up and the Sky Queen released gases from her envelope and shouldered her way down. Now the lump of fear that lodged in Verity's stomach when they meet a very different kind of queen, returned with a vengeance. When she had travelled to foreign climes, it was always in the company of her parents, who had taken care to make sure she was safe at all times.

  They were flying now without a net. Not even the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences knew where they were.

  Once their airship safely docked, Julia with her small valise stuck under her arm, led them down off the gangway, into warmth of a Turkish November. No King Fog here, and no chance of snow.

  A spindly gold automaton, who seemed like he might fall over if the wind struck him the wrong way, held a card in front of him labelled 'The McTighe party.'

  "I don't like the looks of him," Potts said, his eyes flashing green, and it was like his voice sparked something in Julia.

  Dropping her valise before they were ever half-way to the other brass man, she rummaged around in her case. "I have a present for you Monkey Wrench. I know I had it in here. Where is the wee blighter?"

  "Julia," Verity hissed, "is now the best time for this?" She didn't want their little deception of who they were to fall at the very firsts hurdle.

  Her friend waved her hand dismissively as her frilly knickers and what nots tumbled to the ground. "Aye, it is the only time. Ah ha!" At the very bottom of her bag she had two round lenses, that looked like a broken set of goggles.

  She tackled Potts before he could think to roll away and jammed both of those over his eyes.

  "I knew the Scots were rude, but this is beyond the pale!" he squawked, his voice rising to new and squeaky heights. However, when Julia stood up dusting herself off, the lenses she affixed did their job.

  Despite her eccentricities, Verity long ago realised that her friend was quite brilliant. The English girl never
thought about the fact that Potts' bright green eyes, flaring with the power of the Emerald Flame would give the game away immediately. Julia took the time to create some rudimentary coloured goggles for him, that turned his eyes to the more usual yellow eyes found in other automatons.

  After some initial flailing around, Potts must have been able to make out the difference to. "It'll do, I suppose," he grumbled, without so much as a thank you.

  "You're welcome, you bloody tin-can," Julia snapped, before stuffing her belongings back into her valise and stomping towards the welcoming committee.

  "Miss McTighe," the tall automaton creaked out, "welcome to Turkey. I am Baffle, your mother's automaton, and charged with getting you to Kayseri."

  Verity couldn't help but wince. This automaton's internal workings were rattle bang and dreadfully out of rhythm. It actually hurt her Sound enough to made her want to whip out her tool belt and get to fixing him immediately. He reminded her of the old tinker that plied trade down in Cheapside, and he'd been found frozen to death in a gutter only the past Christmas.

  The automaton swivelled its head to regard the other children, and she could feel its internal workings trying to make sense of the extra bodies that it hadn't been told to collect. She was afraid it might just seize up then and there in the aeroport.

  Putting forth her Sound, she tried to smooth the tempo of the clockwork, before it flew apart. Just in the knick of time too, because Baffle bent over and tried to wrestle Julia’s valise from her fingers, which she resisted. Both of them nearly ended up on the arses, but the girl won out.

  Once again, the elderly automaton scanned Verity, Liam, Emma and Christopher. “One too many children,” he croaked, not even getting simple mathematics right.

 

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