Khronos (Hanover and Singh Book 3)

by Paton, Chris

  Wallendorf stuttered as the rifleman guided him toward the command tent, looking over his shoulder at his assistant until the emissary clanked past him and obscured his view.

  ҉

  The vortex of swirling dust crashed onto the deck of the bridge as a wave breaking on a beach. In the confusion and fear swirling about the demon, Luise pulled her arms free of the Germans’ grip. Grabbing Hari’s kukri from the table, she ran along the wall, clutching at her stomach as she tumbled down the steps to the balcony. She turned at a terrible shriek bursting from Jacques’ lungs.

  Placing his palm on Jacques’ chest, the demon dissolved his fingers through the layer of clothes, pushing his hand all the way to his wrist. His mouth opening and closing, Jacques struggled for breath. He looked at Luise, eyes bulging.

  “You don’t need him,” Luise took a step forward.

  The demon turned its smoky head. “You,” the word crashed out of the demon’s body, quaking the walls as it echoed around the bridge. “Where will I find Aether and Khaos? The demons?”

  “I don’t know,” Luise slid along the wall toward the balcony. “You’re killing him.”

  “Yes,” the demon leaned into Jacques, pressing his great body against the crewman’s chest. Holding him high above his head, the demon locked his gaze on Luise as Jacques’ body slid down the remainder of the demon’s arm. The demon’s laugh bloated the wood panels decorating the bulkhead, scattering Blom and his soldiers as the wood splintered across the bridge. Jacques slid onto the demon’s shoulder, his chin merging with the demon’s cheek. “Such a puny body.” The particles of the demon’s face dispersed, his face streaming into Jacques’ head through his nose, his eyes, mouth, the pores of his skin.

  Her face splintered with shards of wood, Luise reached the door to the balcony, the wind whipping at her hair through the shattered window. She tied the belt with the kukri around her waist.

  “Where are you going?” Jacques’ body rippled as the demon settled inside it. “You who opened the door,” the demon smiled. “You deserve your reward.”

  “I want no reward,” Luise glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening at the sight of a large black shape gliding into position beneath The Flying Scotsman. She turned back to the demon.

  “No?” The demon drifted past the wheel, his legs and feet bulging and collapsing inside Jacques’ skin. “Most unusual,” he cocked his head and stared at Luise. He pointed at her. “You are sick. I can feel it.”

  “Yes,” Luise gripped the strap of her satchel.

  “Your body needs time to heal.” The demon stretched his arms, the muscles growing, bursting through Jacques’ uniform. “I,” the demon grinned, I am time.”

  “Khronos,” Luise breathed.

  “Yes,” the demon’s grin widened. “Yes, I am Khronos.” He pointed again at Luise, blue tendrils of energy snaking out of his fingertips. “Let me heal you.”

  “You can’t,” Luise retreated from the serpentine tendrils slithering toward her. “They couldn’t touch me.”

  “They?” Khronos lifted his other hand, splaying his fingers to release another nest of tendrils. “Ah,” he nodded. “Aether and Khaos. Do you know where they are?”

  Drawing Hari’s kukri, Luise slashed at the tendrils reaching out to her, slashing and backing her way onto the balcony. Khronos followed, the tendrils from his fingers thickening, jabbing and biting at the air between them.

  “Where will you go?” Khronos snapped his wrists, whipping the tendrils at Luise.

  “No,” Luise staggered back to the railing. Slashing at the toothed tips of the tendrils, she leaned back, lost her balance and fell.

  ҉

  Stepan slid the pistol into Lena’s bandolier, clinging to her waist as she urged the horse into a gallop, its hooves biting at the dry earth and trampling the grasses. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Bryullov was only dazed and that Stepan’s aim had been a little off. Stepan watched as the soldiers under Bryullov’s command clambered into the mammoth walkers, pausing to pick up their Kapitan. The steam from the walker’s engines plumed above them as they cleared the tracks, and stomped forward. Stepan relaxed.

  “What do you see?” Lena leaned forward, her nose but a hand’s length from the horse’s mane. She sneezed at the hairs tickling her face.

  “They are following us, of course.” Stepan turned in the saddle, searching for signs of Oksana. “What did you agree with Oksana?”

  “That she stay inside the locomotive,” Lena patted Stepan’s hand around her waist. “She will be all right, Kapitan. You believe me, da?”

  “Yes, I believe you.” Stepan smiled at the sound of The Voskhod steaming up. “She should continue on to Moscow. For her own sake.”

  “Da,” Lena let go of Stepan’s hand to get a better grip of the reins. “Did you kill him, Kapitan?”

  “Bryullov? No, a glancing blow to the shoulder. Nothing more.” Stepan frowned as Lena shook within his grasp. “Are you laughing?”

  “Da, I am laughing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you must be very angry, Kapitan Skuratov,” She twisted in the saddle. “Enough to pick up a gun.” Lena raised her eyebrows, turned back to look over the horse’s head, and leaned into the gallop.

  Stepan held on, scanning the plains as they galloped north toward Arkhangelsk. “I am sorry, Anna,” he whispered, “but I am going to have to do this the hard way.”

  Stepan leaned back in the saddle as Lena eased the horse to a canter. Pulling the pistol from her bandolier, she handed it to Stepan. “Since you are a passenger, Kapitan, you can reload my pistol. There are more musket balls and powder in the pouches on the back of my bandolier.” Stepan tugged at the pouches in front of him and loaded first one and then the second barrel. “I have another job for you when you are finished with that, Kapitan.”

  “And that is?”

  Lena laughed, “You can scratch my back.”

  Stepan cuffed Lena on the back of the head. “You are your father’s daughter, that’s for sure.” He twisted in the saddle, squinting into the distance to check the progress of the mammoth walkers. He passed the pistol forward.

  “Da,” Lena took the pistol from Stepan. “Be sure to tell him when you see him.”

  “Yes,” Stepan sighed. “I am still wondering if this is a good idea.”

  “Really, Kapitan?” Lena twisted to look at him. “Who else do you think can retake the city?”

  “It won’t be easy, Lena.”

  “Of course it will not be easy,” Lena shook her head and turned around. Staring straight ahead, she pointed in the direction of the river. “Do you see, Kapitan?”

  “What should I see?” Stepan held his hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun.

  “The break in the trees along the banks of the river.”

  “Yes. A crossing?”

  “Da,” Lena dug her heels into the horse’s sides. “And beyond that,” she giggled as the horse picked up speed, “home.”

  Chapter 18

  The skies above Denmark

  Denmark

  June, 1851

  The wind ripped at Luise’s jacket and skirt, whipping her hair into a fire red banshee tail as the dawn sun broached the horizon. Luise’s knuckle whitened around the handle of the kukri. Tears streamed out of her eyes as she stared at the top of the airship below her. Blinking her eyes clear of tears, Luise watched as two men climbed up and along the airship’s rigging to stand in the middle of the gasbag, binding themselves to the surface with ropes and karabiners. The black material of the airship raced toward her as copper-infused lead balls, zinging to the left and right of her body, sparkled with charged electrons as they raced toward the bridge of The Flying Scotsman as it dived in pursuit.

  “Miss Hanover,” Noonan shouted as he staggered along the surface of the airship, a second safety line trailing in his grip. He beckoned to her.

  Luise gulped a breath of air. Clutching the kukri, she fiddled it into its s
cabbard as the airship filled her view. The blade secured, she spread her arms, eagling toward the airship, her fingers splayed like wingtips.

  “That’s it,” Noonan shouted. “We have you.”

  Luise slammed onto the airship, the impact rippling Noonan off his feet as the shockwave spread through the surface of the gasbag. Reeling from the pain in her stomach, Luise reached for the ropes as she started to slide.

  “Grab the rigging,” Noonan struggled to his feet. Reaching down for the safety line, he pounded across the gasbag, bending at the knees each time his feet sank into the surface, launching into the air with the rebound. Noonan bounced closer to Luise as she arrested her fall with a tight grasp of the rigging running up and over the gasbag, securing it to the frame of the airship.

  “Miss Hanover,” Noonan slowed as he approached Luise. “I am Major Noonan, 5th Queen’s Own Hussars.” He smiled. “Welcome aboard The Amphitrite.” Working his way down to Luise, Noonan slipped the safety line around her waist, securing her with a Karabiner to his own. Noonan paused as Luise let her weight take up the slack of the safety line. A frown furrowed his brow as Luise grasped her stomach. “Are you all right, Miss Hanover?”

  “I think I am bleeding,” Luise grimaced.

  “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

  “Yes,” Luise trembled.

  “You are in shock,” Noonan gripped Luise’s body around her waist, pulling at the ropes with his good hand. “I can understand.” He looked up at The Flying Scotsman as it buzzed above them. “It was quite a leap.”

  “Yes.” Luise reached for the rope.

  Noonan looked up. “Here comes Mr. Smith.”

  “Miss Hanover,” Smith waved, the Lightning Jezail slung around his shoulder. Working his way along the gasbag, Smith held out his hand, supporting Luise along the rigging as they made their way to the stern hatch.

  “He’s coming around again,” Noonan pointed at the airship above them.

  “And we have no more ammunition,” Smith looked up. “Not that it made much difference.” He helped Luise onto the rope ladder leading to a platform in front of the hatch. “Who was steering, Miss Hanover?”

  “That,” Luise started to climb down the ladder, “was Khronos.” She dropped onto the platform. Powerful arms gripped her as she found her feet. “Admiral,” Luise collapsed into Egmont’s grip.

  “My dear, Luise,” Egmont held her tight. “I thought I had lost you.”

  “Yes,” Luise pressed her cheek into Egmont’s chest. She looked up. “You almost did.”

  “Luise?” Egmont lifted Luise’s chin in his hand to look at her face. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yes,” Luise tried to smile. “Quite badly this time, I think.”

  Dropping onto the platform, Noonan held up his hand to receive the rifle as Smith climbed down the ladder. Squeezing past Egmont and Luise, Noonan disappeared through the hatch.

  Stepping off the rope ladder, Smith gripped the rigging as he looked up at the airship prowling the air above them. He turned to Luise. “Miss Hanover, is Hari not with you?”

  Luise shook her head. “No,” she choked. “He...”

  “It’s all right, Luise,” Egmont kissed the top of her head as she shook within his arms. “You are safe now.” Egmont caught Smith’s eye. “We had better get going,” he mouthed.

  “Right,” Smith tapped Luise on the shoulder. “Let’s get you inside, Miss Hanover.”

  “Can you walk, Luise?” Relaxing his grip, Egmont took a step toward the hatch. Luise tightened her arms around his neck. “All right then,” he raised his eyebrows at Smith. “After you, I think.”

  “Yes,” Smith nodded as he squeezed past Luise. Waiting on the inside of the hatch, he helped Egmont guide Luise inside and onto the walkway. Noonan clambered over the railings, moving around Luise and Egmont to close the hatch. Luise’s hair stopped dancing as the hatch sealed the inside of the airship from the wind.

  “So, Luise,” Egmont lifted her from his chest with a soft grip of his fingers. “Safe now. Like I said.” He helped Luise into a sitting position. “Where are you bleeding?”

  “Here,” Luise breathed. She pointed to her stomach. Lifting her eyes, she looked from Egmont to Smith. “Hari,” she started. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Later,” Smith reached out to press his hand upon Luise’s cheek.

  “No,” she shook her head. “Now. Let me tell you now.”

  “Briefly then,” Smith wiped a tear from her face as he removed his hand.

  “Hari is gone,” Luise took a ragged breath. “Thrown overboard.”

  “Really?” Smith peered at Luise over the rim of his glasses. “He’s gone?”

  “Yes,” Luise turned back to Egmont. “There’s more. I released another demon. A bigger one. More powerful.”

  “I am sure you had no choice,” Egmont smoothed a strand of Luise’s hair from her face.

  “I did,” Luise paused. “I had a choice. I took it.” She looked at each of the men on the walkway. “And now I must fix it.” She gripped her satchel. “The answer is in here.”

  “I understand, Miss Hanover,” Smith nodded. “But you will need time to study that.”

  “And we must go North. There is a man in Arkhangelsk, an expert on khronoglyphics. He will be able to help.”

  “North then. But we must stop your bleeding first.” Egmont nodded. He paused to look at Noonan. “But why is the ship turning south? Noonan, you have been to the bridge. What does the Captain say?”

  “There has been a sighting of a strange ship, a steamjammer, about which all things seem to have slowed.” Noonan shrugged. “The Captain has spotted it, and, apparently, he is obligated to investigate.”

  “I thought he was under our command, Reginald?” Smith frowned.

  “Yes,” Egmont took a long breath. “It would seem that my influence, and the Major’s, only extends so far.”

  “The Captain also said that there is a build up of activity on the docks to which the steamjammer is headed.”

  “He can see that?” Smith leaned forward. “From all this way?”

  “I have looked in the Captain’s eyes,” Noonan smiled. “I believe he can. Was it not in the dossier?”

  “No,” Smith scratched his head. “It was not.”

  “What kind of build up?” Egmont paused as Luise slipped her fingers into his. Lowering his body onto the walkway beside her, he smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Military. Walkers and emissaries – some kind of machine.”

  “Emissaries?” Smith clasped his hands. “Wallendorf.” He turned to Egmont. “Perhaps we can combine forces?”

  “With the Germans?” Egmont scoffed. “Haven’t you been fighting these very things in Asia?”

  “Yes,” Smith paused. “But we have a common enemy now, Reginald. I think we can turn this to our advantage, and get help for Miss Hanover.” He turned to Luise. “I am sorry, but I must ask.”

  “Yes, Mr. Smith.”

  “How did Hari fall?”

  “Smith,” Egmont growled.

  “It’s all right, Admiral,” Luise squeezed Egmont’s hand. “Hari,” she took a deep breath, “was pushed out of the airship. His hands were tied. He was given a lifeboat; the rope was pushed between his fingers.”

  “I see,” Smith nodded. “A lifeboat?”

  “Yes, a balloon,” Luise nodded. “But no harness.”

  “No, no. I understand. Interesting.” Pausing to glance at Egmont, a small smile played across Smith’s lips. “Miss Hanover,” he pointed at her stomach. “Let us get you some help. In the meantime, perhaps you can take some comfort in the knowledge that Hari is indeed a very resourceful individual. I have known him some time, Miss Hanover.”

  “I am sorry, Mr. Smith,” Luise shook her head. “But I saw him thrown overboard.”

  “I do not doubt you. But, as I said, I have known Hari for quite some time. Concentrate on getting well, Miss Ha
nover.” Smiling, Smith turned to Noonan. “Major, I think when the Captain delivers us to the Germans, I might have a new mission for The Amphitrite.”

  “Yes, Mr. Smith?” Noonan lifted his bandaged hand, pointing with the stumps of his bloody fingers. “Ah,” he smiled. “You want us to find Mr. Singh.”

  “Yes, Major,” Smith slapped Noonan on the shoulder. “We can take Hari’s knife later, but for now, let us leave the Admiral and Miss Hanover in peace for a moment. We will be arriving in Hamburg shortly, I would imagine.” He tapped Egmont on the arm. “Remember what we talked about, Reginald.”

  “Yes,” Egmont grumbled as Smith and Noonan made their way along the walkway.

  “What?” Luise let go of Egmont. She stepped across the walkway, leaning on the railing opposite him.

  “Luise, I have something to tell you.”

  “Yes?”

  “I was...” Egmont fidgeted. “I was very fond of Mathilde, your mother.”

  “I know,” Luise smiled. “You took good care of us, after my father died. And,” Luise sighed, “during his difficult times.”

  “Yes,” Egmont nodded. “Your father was...”

  “Admiral?” Luise reached out to take Egmont’s hand.

  Egmont looked up. “I am sorry about Hari, Luise. I really am.”

  “I know,” Luise let go of Egmont’s hand, letting it slip from her fingers as she leaned against the railing.

  “Your father would have approved.”

  “Approved?” Luise’s brow wrinkled. She brushed her fringe from her forehead.

  “What I mean is,” Egmont sighed. Gripping the railing behind him with both hands, he looked at Luise. “I mean that I approve.”

  “You approve? Of Hari?”

  “Yes,” Egmont nodded. He looked away for a moment. Turning back to Luise, Egmont reached forward, curling his arms around her, pulling her tight into his chest. “Luise,” he began as the first tears sparkled her cheeks. “I approve because,” he whispered into her hair, “I am your father, Luise. And I love you so much.”

  “That is,” Luise pressed one hand to her stomach as she leaned into Egmont’s embrace. “That is sweet of you, Admiral, but how would you explain this?” She nodded at her stomach. “You don’t have the gene for haemophilia.”