by A. W. Exley
The vessel hovered as low as Loki dared over the pier. A platform appeared above their heads, and a lone figure stood with an arm wrapped around the chain on one side. As the device sank lower, the man jumped free a mere foot from the wooden pier. Nate took the newcomer by the shoulder and gestured to the rope ladder hanging off the side. Brief instructions were given over the thrum of the Hellcat’s engines. The other man gave a nod and disappeared down to the waiting submersible.
Nate strode back to Cara’s side. “He’ll take the submersible carriage back to its hiding place. We wouldn’t want her falling into the wrong hands.”
“Of course not,” Cara drawled with thick sarcasm. “It’s the kind of contrivance that might appeal to, or even appease, a monarch.” She dropped a none-too-subtle hint of how he could extract them both from their current predicament.
Nate gave her one of his rare smiles, flashing even white teeth and scorching the wall of defense she tried to erect around herself. “Let’s discuss this top side. We’re not safe yet.”
Cara stepped up onto the slender platform, the chains reached back to the hovering airship. Nate and Miguel stood on either side of her. Nate looped one arm around her waist and grabbed the chain with his free hand. The platform gave a lurch as the winch kicked in and hoisted the three of them skywards, even as the Hellcat pulled away, ascending into the heavens.
Miguel gave her a wide grin, enjoying every moment of his adventure. She wished she could share his excitement, but then it wasn’t his life on the line, unless she pushed him off the swinging platform.
A dark hole in the side of the hull beckoned as they were hauled near. Two crewmen stood either side of the gapping maw. They steadied the chain as it wound up over the extended arms to the winch. The platform came to rest with a gentle bump, bobbing a foot away from the craft due to the curvature of the side. Nate jumped across and held out a hand for Cara. She gave him a scowl. She didn’t need assistance as though she were stepping from a carriage. Crossing the gap, she looked down, and paled, the Hellcat much higher than she anticipated.
Might have to add the fear of falling out of an airship next to claustrophobia. He pulled her to his chest and she did not complain, needing the physical security with the ground swaying so far below.
Loki slapped Nate on the back, forcing him to release Cara. He grasped his friend’s arm in greeting while she glanced around the shadowy hold. Mesh encased wall sconces held battery operated lights and cast a soft yellow glow around the cargo floor. Boxes were strapped against the curved sides. Netting held smaller objects in place, so they did not shift during air manoeuvres. A steady hum vibrated through the floor and up Cara’s body, the noise emanating from the enormous engines.
The pirate had a broad smile plastered over his face. “That was fun. You should have seen those soldiers scatter when we dove on them.”
Nate watched the crewmen stow away the platform and roll down the hold door. “I could hear the music, but saw scant of it.” He turned his attention back to Loki. “My hosts didn’t assign me a room with a view unfortunately.”
“Bad luck. It was a slight miscalculation on their part having the ships tethered to the Tower. We were able to dodge behind them, and they couldn’t cut their lines to chase us; we were too close. They had to wait until we left before they could get underway.” He rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. “Time for a drink to celebrate.”
Loki led the way. From the cargo hold, they took a narrow spiral staircase and emerged at the end of a short corridor. A few strides down, Loki paused at two large sliding doors made of cherry wood. He pushed them aside to reveal the main compartment that served as mess and lounge. The walls were lined in the same wood as the doors. A wool carpet of rich red and green hues stretched underfoot. A dark, burnished table stood in the centre, surrounded by tapestry chairs stitched in complimentary colours to the carpet. Two sofas, covered in wide green and blood red stripes, were pushed into one corner for more casual seating. A coffee table between them bore an inlaid chess set.
The small tea chest nestled against the wall by the sofas, taunting Cara with its tightly nailed lid. She dropped herself into a chair at the end of the table and pointed at the innocuous container. Her curiosity could wait no longer.
“So what have you got in the chest that Victoria wants badly enough to throw you in the Tower?”
Nate stood next to her, his gaze flicking to the chest and back to her expectant face. “I think we should have a drink first. It’s not every day you escape the Tower of London.”
Cara narrowed her gaze, re-evaluating and embellishing her plan to kill Nate now they had rescued him.
Loki moved to a small sideboard and opened a cupboard door. He pulled forth a bottle and several shot glasses. He poured a couple of fingers of amber liquid out and handed one to Cara. She waited while Loki handed a glass to Nate and Miguel before picking up his own.
“To adventure and the friends who help us along the way,” Loki said.
They clinked glasses and downed the contents in one hit, slamming empty vessels on the table top. Cara and Miguel both coughed, her eyes watering, and she blinked back the rush of tears from the hit of whisky.
“Keep talking.” She waved her finger at Nate as Loki filled the glasses for another round. “You were about to reveal to your long suffering wife what is in the chest. And if it’s flesh and blood, why hasn’t it got an air hole?”
Nate threw back his head and swallowed a second hit of liquor. “The chest contains dragon eggs.”
Cara snorted, but no one joined in. Loki and Miguel didn’t look surprised. She drained her shot glass before daring to meet Nate’s steady gaze. “Do you expect me to believe in dragons? There’s no such thing.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking along her collar bone. “And there’s no such thing as a diamond heart.”
Touché. She shut her mouth. Maybe he was right; the world contained more mysterious things than she ever believed possible. She leaned into his touch; her body missed him more than her mind cared to admit. For years she avoided physical contact, until Nate taught her how much her body needed it. The five days they had been apart seemed more like five months.
His hand moved to the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding through her hair to massage her scalp. “Rumours have circulated for centuries that the depths of Russia and China hid the last remaining dragons. Victoria asked me to find out if it were true.”
Damn him, but that feels good. He had a way of turning her feline under his touch; she wanted to stretch out and let him stroke and pet her. Her brain reminded her of unanswered questions.
“So assuming this chest contains dragon eggs, how did you find them?” With her curiosity satisfied, she was eager to know if an ancient beast really did reside in the tea chest.
“I had my opportunity during the Opium Wars, when I chased a different dragon. Rumours always circulate and large quantities of opium gained me access denied to other Westerners.” He removed his hand from her nape, much to her regret, and moved to kneel in front of the tea chest. “The Chinese had stolen eggs from Russia, and hid them in the Forbidden City.”
Loki handed him a hammer and chisel and he prised off the nails holding down the lid. Cara leaned forward as he removed the top, and was disappointed to see the inside contained only loose leaf tea. The smell of bergamot and spice wafted around the small room.
God, I hope Miguel picked up the right chest, and these eggs aren’t sitting in some toff’s kitchen.
With careful hands, Nate brushed the tea to one side, and a gleaming oval shape appeared under his fingers. He slid his hands under and pulled the egg free of its resting place. He handed it to a wide-eyed Cara.
It was tapered at one end like a chicken egg, but of a size large enough to contain a puppy. She needed two hands to hold the thing. It was heavier than she expected, and warm, so very warm. Heat washed over her palms, rolling off the egg. The shell colour was inconsistent
and mottled as though it had been hurriedly hand painted in varying hues of cream and beige. Brilliant red veins streaked over the surface and glimmered in the available light. The shell had a grainy texture like a cross between tree bark and lizard skin. Her fingers traced the lines and grooves etched over it.
“Is there really a dragon inside?” her voice came out a whisper as though she didn’t want to wake the slumbering occupant.
Nate watched her, his eyes unfathomable as her fingers explored the rare object. “As long as the egg is warm, it’s viable. But they take years to hatch.”
“A dragon.” She brushed her cheek against the egg and placed her ear to the thick shell. A faint beat pulsed against her face. The sound of life. With reluctance, she handed it back to Nate, to rebury in the tea nest. Two others nestled in the dried leaves. The smallest egg looked hewn from slate, the dark grey relieved by a green shimmer. The third egg was more roughly made, coloured in rich brown streaks with deep blue lines encircling the surface. Her hands already mourned the loss of a creature she did not even know existed a few minutes ago. She wanted to caress them, soak up their heat, and watch over them like a mother hen until the chicks emerged.
“Three? You had three dragons tucked away in the Pit?”
He raised a finger to his lips. “Victoria thinks there was only one egg left in existence.”
“So why don’t you give her one? You could still release the other two?” As soon as she said the words a pang shot through her heart. What lay within the eggs were no toy dogs to be taught to beg and roll over. With a creature so rare, no person should ever own or collar them.
“She will either chain them in the Tower as curiosities, or use them in treaty negotiations. Once hatched, the Emperor planned to chain them to the walls of the Forbidden City. Either way they would never be free.”
They locked eyes for long moments. A brief sliver of cold horror pulsed down the bond from Nate at the thought of a beautiful creature suffering in captivity, shackled to another’s bidding and never free. Cara could only wonder if he meant the dragons. Five days earlier, his words in defence of his actions, echoed in her brain. I protected you, and left you free.
“Come on lad.” Loki laid a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “Let’s go rustle up some food while Nate confesses his pirate antics to his wife.”
Cara flicked her eyes to the departing figures, waiting for them to vanish through the panelled sliding door before turning her attention back to Nate. He pulled out a chair and sat across the table from her, nursing his glass of whisky, waiting for the barrage to begin.
So many questions, she tried to sort through which to ask first. “How did you obtain the eggs?”
“I run airships between India, China, and Britain. Britain has been smuggling opium into China for decades in return for tea. Access to the eggs cost me an airship of opium, courtesy of Duke Nolton. He owns substantial poppy fields in India.”
Cara connected the pieces of information. “He’s the one behind the treason charges.”
Nate drained his glass and toyed with the empty crystal, rolling it between his palms. “The best defense is a good offense. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one up to something, and our bad blood gave him the perfect opening to draw suspicion from his actions.”
Cara remembered her meeting with the queen. “Speaking of bad blood, we have another problem.”
“A necklace that’s more than a necklace?” He placed the used glass with the other empty ones and stretched his arm over the back of the chair next to him.
“Yes, unfortunately. When I saw the queen, she was wearing Hatshepsut’s Collar. It’s a gold necklace made for the ancient Egyptian ruler, a woman who seized the power of men and became pharaoh.”
“Did your father write about the Collar?” Nate knew of her father’s extensive collection of ancient artifacts, and one such relic bound their hearts and lives. Lord Devon kept detailed notebooks about the treasures and Cara found rare books telling of the legends and powers surrounding the objects.
Her fingers played with a small metal coaster, her hands unable to remain immobile on the table top. “He tried to acquire it, but it was held by the French. There are contemporary accounts that both Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan possessed the Collar. They say whoever wears it is gripped by a desire to acquire land and power, and only the removal of the necklace, or death, will stop them.”
Nate reached out for Cara’s hand across the table, halting her frantic movements as he ran his thumb over the pulse in her wrist. “Victoria began conscripting troops weeks ago. She has been amassing men in strategic locations outside China’s borders. The queen wishes to become an imperial empress and will lead us all to war.”
“I always thought war was good for business.” She watched his thumb play across her skin, trying to ignore the ripples of pleasure he aroused as she reminded herself they still had the issue of his forced marriage to settle.
“Not a senseless one, which will plunge us into the midst of death and killing for years to come.” His hand stilled and he drew away as Loki and Miguel returned, carrying trays of hot food.
Plates were laid out on the long table and the delicious aroma of fresh bread and roasted fowl hit Cara’s nose and her stomach rumbled in appreciation.
Part of her mind tried to stay on topic; the other part sided with her hunger as Loki dished out the simple, but mouth-watering meal. “Victoria has large scale plans, mobilising the youth of England. The call has spread across the country.”
Nate met her gaze. “So apart from finding a safe home for the dragons, and neutralising Nolton, we also need to figure out how to get the necklace away from Victoria before her blood lust sets us all on a path of destruction.”
Cara picked up knife and fork. “That sums up most of our problems.” She met his gaze, and left the more intimate problem hanging between them.
eneral banter dominated dinner. Loki told outrageous stories of previous tight spots he encountered. Like when the Hellcat dropped a line and lifted him straight from a cannibal’s simmering dinner pot in the Pacific Islands. Nate scoffed occasionally, but let his captain have free rein. Cara let the conversation between the three men wash over her, trying to forget the events of the last week as they stuck to more light hearted topics and needling each other.
Once everyone had eaten their full, Loki bellowed out the sliding door and two identically clad airmen appeared to clear away the plates. They left a bottle of brandy and, in a civilised touch, a plate of cheese, fruit, and crackers. Surprise registered on Cara’s face.
Loki arched a thin black eyebrow. “What did you expect?”
“Something a lot more informal and a couple of whores hot oil wrestling in the corner.” The Hellcat revealed a tastefully decorated interior. The crew wore tidy uniforms of black pants, white shirts, and black vests. A chef lurked somewhere in the galley and part of Cara expected to hear a piano player start tickling the ivory any minute. The reality of life aboard Loki’s airship was the polar opposite of what her imagination had conjured up. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed.
Miguel excused himself to join the other airmen below and Cara suspected he would regale them with tales of his starring role in the rescue. She picked up a bunch of grapes and moved to the sofa. She popped them in her mouth as she settled and propped her feet up on the coffee table, careful not to disturb the in-progress chess game.
She cast a glance at Loki, who sunk into the sofa opposite, cradling a large glass of brandy. Some of the tension seemed have eased behind his eyes.
“So, did you get your evening with the Ice Queen?”
Loki stretched one arm along the back of the sofa and met her amused gaze. “Yes, but she’s a talker. I had to give her mouth something to do to shut her up and get some peace.”
Cara couldn’t reconcile the cold woman she met with her being overly talkative. “I would never have thought that to look at her.”
Loki leaned
forward, elbows on his knees, the snifter held between thumb and forefinger. “She has dark tastes that one. Her fiancé is in for quite a surprise. But she kept asking about you and Nate.”
Nate lowered himself onto the sofa next to Cara, causing the cushion to dip and tip her toward him. “I’m an idiot,” he swore. “Sara Collins is Nolton’s niece.”
“A coincidence?” Loki asked.
“I don’t like it when coincidences starting piling on top of one another. What exactly did she want to know?”
Loki swirled the liquor up the sides of the large glass and watched the beads run back to the bottom. “Rather prying actually. She wanted to know the truth of the rumours about you being married, and how attached you were to Cara.”
Cara let out a long sigh. “She grilled Miguel when he returned her ring too, the day Hankin took you. She was more interested in my reaction than in you being arrested.” She chewed another grape and glanced sideways at Nate. “He’s looking for your weakness, and it’s me.”
“No,” Nate said. “Don’t ever think of yourself like that. You are not a weakness.” His hand caressed her thigh; his warmth tingled along her skin like the touch of the dragon egg. “Although it’s probably just as well we are out of England for now before he could do anything foolish.”
He rose and paced to the table, poured two snifters of brandy, and returned to the quiet corner. He handed a drink to Cara and she took a swig from her glass, letting the warmth settle in her stomach. A long trip stretched ahead of them and she had a number of topics she wanted to cover.
“When I left Victoria, I encountered Prince Albert in the secretary’s chamber. I mentioned the necklace to him. Judging from his reaction, I suspect he is as concerned as I am. I think we have an ally there.” She chewed another grape. “If we can figure out a way to use the opening it affords.”