by J. Stone
“What do we do?” Germ asked.
“Just stay calm,” she said. “I know how--”
Before she could finish, however, an explosion emanated through the ship. The blast knocked Olivia forward, causing her to hit her head on the dashboard. A trickle of blood poured from the wound, and her head came to rest on the ship’s controls. A large metal hook pierced the wall of the cabin and begun retracting, pulling their ship toward the pirate’s.
The Halcyon lurched again, tossing Germ back into the cabin, where Rowland and Erynn had moved into. During the confusion he managed to say, “It’s pirates, but Madam Nightingale says to remain calm... Though that was before she was knocked unconscious.”
Erynn clutched the railing overhead and replied, “I think that whole unconscious part is way more important than the calm bit, Germy.”
“I have always wanted to meet pirates,” Rowland commented.
“I’m fairly certain they won’t live up to your expectations, sir,” Germ replied.
“Don’t tell him that,” Erynn suggested. “Now he’ll just encourage them to act piratey.”
“That does seem possible,” Rowland announced with a certain glee in his voice.
The vessel stopped suddenly, and looking out the windows, they found themselves inside the hull of the pirate ship. They could hear voices from outside the ship, but the sounds were muffled and indecipherable. Germ followed the voices, as they moved alongside the skyship, until they reached the cabin door. They stopped and paused for a moment, and Germ attempted to hold his breath, waiting for what would come next.
A loud bang sounded outside, as metal hit metal. It was repeated two more times, followed by another pause. A voice echoed loudly outside, before a blast of force pulled the door completely off its hinges, opening the ship to the pirates. Outside, Germ could see a device drag the door away with a series of metal cords.
“Throw your weapons out,” one of the voices shouted to them.
Germ looked to Rowland and Erynn who looked back to him and each other. Tern, on the other hand, was still running through the upgrade Erynn had set up for him. She reluctantly removed her pistol from her belt and tossed it out through the opened door. After the pistol stopped on the ground outside, it began to be pulled to the side, beyond Germ’s vision.
A woman’s voice came from outside the Halcyon, “Impressive weapon. Where did you get it?”
“I made it,” Erynn replied.
“A chromesmith, eh?” the woman asked. “What would a chromesmith be doing on an empire vessel?”
Before Erynn could answer, however, a set of pirates entered their skyship with pistols out and sabers drawn from their scabbards. Germ, Rowland, and Erynn’s hands were tied behind their backs, and they were escorted from the Halcyon. Outside, they were greeted by more than a dozen pirates.
Holding Erynn’s pistol was a woman wearing a dark brown, leather tricorne hat with blue-lensed goggles adorning its brim. Chocolate brown hair draped from beneath the depths of the hat, resting on her shoulders. A scar traced along her face from her scalp down to her lip, crossing over her right eye, where a metal eye patch resided. Around her neck was a necklace of keys in varying states of rust, wear, and age.
She wore a vivid blue corset over a white button-up shirt and under a long, raggedy, brown coat. Her left hand was absent, and in its stead was a complicated mechanical contraption consisting on spindly parts and exposed wires. Hanging from her thick belt was a brace of pistols, a dagger, and a sword. Her pants were deep blue denim that were ripped along the knees, right above a pair of hard, leather boots.
“Welcome to the Mad Crow,” the woman announced. “So then. Chromesmith. Empire. Doesn’t quite match up. Who are you?”
“Actual pirates!” Rowland exclaimed to Germ. “How exciting!”
“Okay…” she said. “He’s probably a little too excited. Gabe,” she said to one of the other pirates. “Help him calm down a bit.”
“I got it,” the pirate replied walking toward Rowland.
The pirate neglected to wear a shirt, managing to show a great deal of muscles, but he had a thick leather strap running diagonally across his chest and around his back that tied into his pants becoming an unusual belt with a large iron buckle at the front. His cloth pants were striped red and white but were torn and ripped beneath his knees. He wore no shoes or boots on his feet, revealing dirty green toenails at the tips of his feet. Gabe took his pistol from his belt and swung it up toward Rowland, nearly knocking off the professor’s respirator. He fell to the floor with a thud and a trail of blood flew behind him, splattering the yellow paint of the Halcyon.
Germ dropped to a knee and cried out, “Sir!”
After opening his mouth widely and adjusting his jaw, Rowland said to Germ, “That seemed excessively unfriendly and pirate-ish. And you two thought I would have to force it.”
“How about we just go the traditional question - answer route from now on, eh?” the female pirate suggested. “I’d hate to break you, before I even get the chance to use you. Now, why is a chromesmith on an empire ship?”
“We’re not with the empire,” Erynn explained. “We were going to sneak into the city.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Erynn’s story before nodding to a couple of the pirates, “You two. Go check out their ship, and bring me the key.”
The pair of pirates entered the ship at her command, and she approached Erynn holding the pistol up a bit. “Like I said, this is an impressive weapon. You say you made it?”
Erynn nodded and said, “Yeah.”
“A rare skill,” the pirate noted. “’Fraid I don’t have too much use for a second chromesmith though. Ash here handles all that.” She nodded to another pirate at her side.
The blonde haired pirate known as Ash wore a brown corset covering a frilly, low-cut and short-sleeved shirt. She had a matching short, brown skirt that had garters running down to her knee-high sky blue socks. Ending just below her knees were a pair of brown boots that were laced up with pink string.
“Indispensable, she is,” the pirate leader continued. “What about you two?” she asked looking at Germ and Rowland. “What good are you?”
“I am… or rather, I was a professor of transcription at the Cultwick University,” Rowland answered. “This is my butler, Germ.”
“Now both of those,” she noted, “could prove quite handy. We do manage to get sick from time to time, and we need that sick cleaned up afterward.”
It was then that the two pirates returned from the Halcyon.
“Any other crew in there?” she asked.
“Just a bloody pilot,” one of them answered, handing the long toothed, bronze, Halcyon key to her.
“Dead?” she asked, taking the key and unhooking her necklace.
“Looked dead to me,” the other replied.
“What about cargo?” she inquired.
“Almost nothing,” the first said. “There’s an automaton hooked up to a console and some medical supplies. Otherwise empty.”
The pirate woman sighed and slid the Halcyon’s key onto her necklace collection of keys. She then continued, “Well, I suppose it’s not a complete loss. We got a new doctor, a mascot, and bot. Good enough I guess. Throw the woman overboard.”
“No!” Germ cried out.
“Quiet, you,” Gabe said before hitting him as well.
Two of the pirates grabbed Erynn and quickly escorted her up a flight of stairs. As they left the interior of the Mad Crow, most of the pirates grabbed coats to help resist the cold weather outside the ship’s walls. Germ and Rowland were taken up as well, followed by the pirate captain and the rest of her crew. The top of the stairs led up to the deck of the ship. The Mad Crow had come to a stop, but its various motors and engines were still whirring, keeping them floating in midair. At the side of the skyship, a group of pirates extended out a metal plank leading off the ship to nowhere.
“Do not do this!” Rowland exclaimed.
&nbs
p; “I don’t need her,” the pirate calmly replied. “Don’t need an extra mouth to deal with either.”
At this, Rowland turned, attempting to aim his gauntlet from behind his back toward the pirate captain, but all he managed to do was shoot a hole in the top level of the Mad Crow’s deck. After a simple gesture from the pirate captain, Gabe knocked Rowland senseless yet again.
“Finish it up,” the pirate captain said gesturing to the pirates at the plank.
Erynn was shaking noticeably, as Germ remembered her fear of heights. She had a difficult time within the hulls of both the Dreadnought and the Halcyon, so he could only imagine her terror at being threatened to be thrown off a skyship. The pirates edged her closer to the plank and then shoved her forward onto the thin beam. They released her, and she wobbled back and forth, as she attempted to steady herself.
The pirates waited impatiently for her to fall, but Erynn managed to gain her balance despite her fear. From where he stood, Germ could see she had closed her eyes and was muttering something to herself under her breath.
Tapping her foot and scowling, the captain finally pulled a rectangular device from a coat pocket and spoke into it, “Craven, give her a shake.”
A garbled voice came back through the gadget, “Aye-aye captain.”
Several of the pirates cracked smiles at this development and stared intently at Erynn still teetering on the edge of the plank. After a few seconds, the skyship began to teeter from one side to the other. Germ himself had trouble standing up, but Erynn somehow retained her position aboard the beam. The pilot continued to shake the vessel back and forth, as everyone’s attention was focused solely on Erynn and her attempts to keep from falling.
The silence was broken, however, when Olivia appeared from below the decks and shouted, “Felicia Foskey! Stop this!”
The pirate captain quickly turned her head to see Olivia. The smuggler’s face was covered in a layer of blood, but she appeared otherwise unharmed. The captain nodded to the pilot, who then ceased shaking the ship side to side.
“Have them pull her back in, now!” Olivia demanded, approaching the captain.
With a smug smile, Felicia nodded to the pirates closest to Erynn, and they helped her back onboard the skyship. The pirate captain then turned her attention to the pair of pirates that she had instructed to investigate the Halcyon.
“You two told me the pilot was dead,” Felicia said.
“She looked it,” one of them responded.
Felicia looked at them for a moment and then back to Olivia. After a brief sigh, she pulled one of the pistols from her belt and shot both men in the chest.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Olivia stated.
“Don’t mistake my compliance to spare this woman’s life for your control over me, Olive,” she replied. “What are you doing flying Cultwick colors?”
“I was trying to smuggle these people into Cultwick,” Olivia explained.
“I already told you that,” Erynn chimed in, after she moved safely off the plank.
“Don’t press your luck, kid,” Felicia said.
“And I want my key back, Felicia,” Olivia announced.
Looking back to Olivia, the pirate paused a moment before turning and telling her crew, “Fix their hurt and then get them the hell off my ship.”
Chapter 13. Isabelle and the Aristocrat
She awoke to a ray of sunshine peeking in through a nearby window, brushing warmly over her face. Her head rested on one of a series of puffy white pillows lining the head of the bed, and a light blue comforter was thrown over and covering her body. A sense of confusion wormed its way through her head, as she attempted to imagine how she had gotten there and what had happened the night prior.
She threw off the comforter and swung her feet to the side of the bed. Looking down at herself, she found she was wearing a light pink, silk gown that she didn’t recognize and that the ring finger of her left hand was adorned with a shiny golden ring. On either side of the bed was a stand, each with an unlit lantern, and near a closet, she saw a three-piece changing screen with a flowery design. Another door led into a white-colored bathroom, while the last door was closed. Nothing in the whole of the room looked familiar to her in any way.
Next to the bed, on a nightstand, she found a mirror and looked into her reflection. Her skin had a healthy pink radiance, which suggested to her that she had seen a bit of sun before her apparent memory loss. Her dark black hair was tied behind her, though a few strands had come loose and hung down from the sides. She peered into the mirror staring at her own green-brown eyes, but they seemed distant and alien to her, causing her to put down the mirror.
As she stood from the bed, there came a soft knocking behind her. Looking in that direction, she saw a large wooden door and assumed it had come from there. She slowly and timidly walked to the door, reaching a hand out to the golden knob. Gripping and turning the handle, she opened the door to find a pleasant looking maid with dark hair, bright eyes, and a clean uniform standing in the hallway.
“Feeling any better today, Mrs. Sloan?” the woman asked.
She rapidly blinked, trying to piece together what she had learned thus far. “Sloan?” she repeated.
“Mr. Sloan said you might have trouble remembering,” the maid continued. “He said I should remind you if you forgot.”
“Remind me of what?” she asked.
“Your name is Isabelle Sloan,” the maid answered. “You were in an accident. You hit your head, and you’ve had some memory loss. They’ve had to perform surgery several times, but the doctors say you’ll make a full recovery in time.”
“My head?” she asked, holding a hand to her head. The tips of her fingers grazed across a bandage just above where her neck met the back of her skull.
“Probably best to leave it be, ma’am,” the maid said. “Now, Mr. Sloan has asked me to help you get ready for the day.”
The maid entered the room, closing the door behind her, while Isabelle awkwardly waited for some direction. She again touched the bandage at the back of her head, wondering what had transpired that could cause her to forget so much.
“What happened to me?” she asked the maid, joining her at the closet.
“The accident, ma’am?” she asked rhetorically. “They said you went into town unescorted and were accosted by a mugger. Apparently, you fell back and hit your head on a curb. They said you’re lucky to be alive, ma’am.”
“Oh,” Isabelle replied, not finding any personal connection to the story. “When did this happen, uh… I don’t even know your name.”
“Gwen Potter, ma’am,” the maid answered. “And the accident was two weeks ago.”
Isabelle continued to search for the memories somewhere within the recesses of her mind, but found no trace. Gwen had picked out a long white gown with black trim and gold buckles. She handed it to Isabelle, and ushered her behind a changing screen.
“You get dressed, ma’am, and I’ll just tidy things up,” Gwen suggested.
She threw the dress, so that it hung over the wall of the screen and slipped off her sleeping gown. ‘Isabelle Sloan,’ she repeated to herself trying to piece things together. She wracked her mind trying to place something - anything - that she had been told by Gwen. Nothing seemed to trigger a memory though. She slid into the white gown comfortably, and though it made sense to her that it should fit, she was still taken aback by it.
As she clasped a series of buckles at her chest, Gwen called from the other side of the wall, “Would you like me to have them prepare you something to eat, ma’am?”
Isabelle had not realized it, but she was in fact quite hungry. “Yes. That would be good,” she replied.
“Then, I’ll be back shortly, ma’am,” Gwen said.
Isabelle finished putting on the dress and came around to the other side of the wall. There stood a grizzled and physically imposing man dressed in an expensive looking black and white suit. Running from just below his nose down and through h
is lips was a large, painful looking scar. She was immediately upset by his presence in her room and took a step back. He made no move toward her, and instead another man appeared.
The second man wore a black top hat with a silver trim just above the brim, and the scant bit of blonde hair that wasn’t covered by the hat was greased down neatly. Above his white, long-sleeve shirt was a black and gray pinstripe vest that had been recently pressed. His pants matched the vest, and his shoes were a freshly polished black. Carried in his right hand was a black cane with a garish golden lion head handle.
“My dear Isabelle,” he said approaching her. “How lovely you look today.”
“Who… who are you?” she timidly asked.
“Still having trouble with your memory, I see,” he replied, furrowing his brow. “I am your beloved husband, Owen.”
Looking for proof, Isabelle looked to his ring finger and found a matching wedding band on his hand. “I…” she began before looking down at the ground with a twinge of embarrassment. “I don’t remember you…”
“You will, my dear,” he explained. “In time, you will remember everything from before. Remember it as you always should have.”
With a growing sense of confidence in this unknown man, she nodded and replied, “I’m sure you’re right.”
He smiled gently back at her and said, “I’m afraid we won’t have more time together for now. I must head into town for some time. There are growing concerns that I must deal with. In my absence, I have asked my loyal servant, Konstantine Deckland here, to keep an eye out for you.” He gestured to the intimidating man at his side.
“Ma’am,” Deckland tersely said.
It was then that Gwen returned and informed Isabelle that her food was ready for her. Owen left their home with a few attendants in tow, while Gwen led Isabelle to the dining area with Deckland following her more closely than she would have liked. When they arrived, a buffet of food had been set out just for her on a long wooden table. There were cinnamon buns, pancakes, bananas, blackberries, several different kinds of meats prepared in a variety of ways - grilled, barbequed, fried, and breaded, a large pot of some kind of red colored soup with bits of green floating at the surface, and a dizzying array of beverages of every color imaginable.