“How are we going to find the ship?” Steven raked a hand through his hair. This time the tracking spell had been inconclusive.
James rolled his eyes and chewed his overly large bite of meat pie. “Um, ask if anyone knows where Barrel of Monkeys is headed? What sort of ship name is that, anyhow?”
“The name isn’t important. Finding them is.” Days had been wasted chasing this blasted vessel across the country. But if they found little Rahel and returned her to Dr. Heinz, it would be worth it. If they failed … well, he didn’t have the luxury of even entertaining the notion.
“What do you know of the Barrel of Monkeys?” a female voice demanded, a click of a pistol punctuating the question. Two blonde women, most likely sisters, stood in front of them, the taller of the two holding a pistol. No one in the bar even looked up from their conversations.
“Please, don’t shoot.” Steven put his hands in the air. “We’re trying to find it.”
“Why?” The woman with the pistol didn’t lower her weapon or gaze. Both women wore trousers. Trousers!
James shrugged. “They have something we want.”
“What?” she snapped. Her hair was longer and in one braid pinned up.
“An acquaintance has contracted us to retrieve his child,” Steven stammered, hoping these were friends, not foes. At least they were mortal.
Her pistol lowered. “Oh. We’re on the same side, then. I’m Hattie Hayden and this is my sister Hittie. We happen to know where those sons of dogs are.”
Steven perked. “You do?”
“You part of the children’s liberation front or just for hire?” Hittie’s eyes narrowed. Her hair was cut nearly as short as a man’s.
“We’re just the hired help,” James gave her a disarming smile.
Hattie shrugged. “Everyone’s got to make a living. Anyway, our friends are hopefully boarding that ship and stealing their cargo right now. We’re meeting up with them.”
“Wait—they’re boarding the ship of air pirates and stealing their cargo?” Steven blinked. Who in their right mind would rob an air pirate?
Hittie bristled, broad shoulders squaring. “It’s for the greater good. Children shouldn’t be stolen and forced into slavery.”
“True. But what do they do with the children afterwards?”
“We take them to a safehouse and try to return them to their families,” Hattie replied. “Here’s the deal. We just lost a crewmember. You help us and when we meet up with our friends, we’ll make sure you get your girl. If the safehouse contacts her parents first you won’t get paid.”
True. The last thing he wanted to do was waste more time.
“How can we help you?” James took a casual drink of beer as if discussing the weather or something equally inane.
“You do what we tell you,” Hittie snapped, taking a step toward them. “We’re an all-female crew and we don’t tolerate no disrespect. We don’t usually take on men.”
James’ face brightened. “Wait—you’re Hayden’s Follies, I’ve heard of you.”
“Good things, I hope,” Hattie preened.
An all-female band of, well, he had a feeling they were air pirates.
Steven rubbed his chin, taking this all in. “If women can’t legally fly airships, how can you operate?”
Hittie wrinkled her turned-up nose in distain. “Do you think we care?”
“No, of course not.” Well, that was one way to look at the law.
Hattie checked her pocket watch and tapped the toe of her manly boots. “Are you in?”
Steven and James exchanged glances. It beat their other options.
Standing, he offered his hand. “We’re in.”
Hattie shook his hand, grip stronger than he expected and jerked her pointed chin toward the door of the bar. “Good, let’s go rescue some little girls.”
“Hope you’re rested because the next twenty hours are going to be hell,” Hittie sneered as she showed them around the microscopic ship.
“Why?” Steven took an instant dislike to Hittie, the younger sister. Truly, a sparrow-class ship held three people comfortably. Hattie was the pilot and captain, Hittie the engineer. They’d lost their gunner, which James had been assigned to. The ladies had deemed him useless and told him to stay out of the way.
Useless? Him? Then again, he never felt the need to learn to shoot.
“Because your own strength is unequal to the task, do not assume that it is beyond the powers of man … ” he quoted under his breath.
“As soon as we meet up with Vix, we’re going to be flying decoy. Fastest way to San Fran is through Deseret Territory—MoBatt country.” Hittie looked to James. “Which is why we need a good gunner.”
None of this meant anything to Steven and he didn’t want to sound stupid or anger her by asking. All he knew from Noli was that sparrow-class ships were fairly useless except for the fact that they could go very fast.
“Wait—Vix, as in Captain Vix?” James asked.
Hittie’s blond eyebrows rose. “You know her?”
“I met her a few months ago. I know her first mate.” James turned to Steven, eyes alight. “This is good—really good.”
Steven’s brows knitted. “Sorry, I’m not following.”
“The Vixen’s Revenge is Jeff’s ship. They’ll be far more likely to hand Rahel over to us.” James’ forehead wrinkled. “Well, you better let me do the asking. He probably still wants to kick the stuffing out of you.”
It took a moment for this to sink in. “Jeff’s ship. As in Noli’s Jeff?” He made a face trying to assimilate this information. The Bright Lady played tricks, surely. “Is the air pirate community truly that small?”
“Pretty much–which is why we’re the one’s stealing the children,” Hittie retorted. “The men don’t have the gall to break the rules and the government doesn’t give a gear.” Her lips formed a smirk. “Why does Jeff want to beat the stuffing out of you?”
“Um,” Steven’s cheeks warmed. “I want to marry his sister.” James’ eyebrows rose. “What?” he retorted. “I will find some way to be with her, no matter what people say.”
He had to. Not just because he’d promised, but because Noli made his life better, him better, in so many ways.
“Good. I like Noli. She keeps you from being insufferable.” James shoved his hands into his pockets. “You should still let me do talking, just in case.”
Hittie held up her stubby and rough hands. “Enough chatter, we should be meeting up with the ship any moment. Then it’s time to hold on.”
The sound of another airship’s engines woke Noli. Sparrow-class by the sound of it.
“Noli?” Jeff whispered from outside her door.
“Come in.” She sat up and yawned. “Trouble?”
“Our decoy in case we encounter MoBatts. Not only are we limping, we’re about to limp through Deseret.” Jeff shook his head as he stood in the doorway. “Crazy, I tell you, but the sooner we get these kids to San Fran the better. When we get to there I want you to meet them.” Circles hung under his eyes. Dark shadows colored his chin. Shaving didn’t seem to be a priority. Neither did sleep.
“Air pirates worthy of my acquaintance?” She laughed, remembering his reluctance to introduce her to his friend back in Los Angeles. How long ago that seemed.
Jeff grinned and leaned against the door frame. “An all-female crew. They’re part of Vix’s women’s equality movement and the children’s liberation front—female air pirates who try to stop human trafficking. It’s their engineer I think you’d like.”
“I’d like to meet a female engineer.” She’d never met another girl who liked to fix things.
“The reason why I’m here is that we need you to be on hand. Also, being chased by MoBatts is … interesting. We need the girls to stay with you up here in case they become scared. We can’t risk having you away from the engines.”
Noli crossed her arms over her chest. “I should have had time to do repairs. How are we flyin
g with holes in our hull?”
“We’ve patched them the best we can—believe me,” he replied. “This is a very risky venture.”
“Oh.” Noli nodded, understanding. “Because the law won’t see what we’re doing as a good deed. We’re as guilty as those who stole the children in the first place.”
“Exactly—and the authorities will probably know where we’re headed as soon as they find the other ship, so we need to beat them to San Fran. If there are no children onboard, they can’t do anything.” His smile grew lopsided. “Sometimes there are perks to the holes in legislation.”
“I’m scared, Noli.” The little blonde girl, Rahel, wrapped her arms around Noli’s leg as Noli attempted to tighten a loose screw on the fan of the starboard engine. It was always the starboard side. At least the ship held up. But the fans weren’t and if the fans didn’t hold up the ship could overheat. She should have replaced all the fans when she had the chance.
Gunfire rang in the distance. Making sure the screw was tight, she tucked her screwdriver in its loop on her tool-belt and embraced tiny Rahel. The other girls slept soundly in the corner of the engine room. Fear of them being caught—or shot down—balled in the pit of her own belly, so she could hardly blame the little girl for being afraid.
“Everything will be fine,” Noli soothed, running her fingers through Rahel’s long blonde hair as a loud noise boomed behind them followed by the rat-tat-tat of a gatling gun. “Why don’t you go to sleep? When you wake everything should be over.”
She hoped.
“I want my bed,” she sobbed. “And my popi.” Fat tears streamed down her little face.
“Would you like to sleep in my bed?” Noli took her by the hand and led her to her room, trying to think of a way to make her happy and quiet before she woke the other girls. Again. “Look, you may sleep in my hammock.”
Rahel peered into the dim room and made a face. “You sleep there?”
“It’s actually quite comfortable.” Noli helped the little girl into the hammock. “Here’s a pillow and blanket.” She tucked the little pillow under Rahel’s head and covered her with the green blanket. “You may even hold my doll.”
Rahel took the offered doll and fingered her red curls. “What’s her name?”
“Charlotte,” she replied without a thought. The ship shook and the engines made a noise of protest. “You go to sleep. I’ll return to check on you.”
Rahel closed her eyes and nodded. Noli caressed the little girl’s cheek then ran back into the engine room just as something boomed in the distance.
Steven gripped the bolted-down table in tiny common area as Hayden’s Follies rolled, the entire ship tilting to one side as everything not secured slid around, creating a merry mess. A slew of gunfire punctuated the evasive maneuver, every rat-tat-tat of the patrol’s gatling gun sounding as if it would pierce the hull and shoot him.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Apparently flying decoy meant that they drew the patrols away from the other ship.
The ship rolled in the opposite direction, things continuing to fall, his knuckles whitening as he held on, not wanting to join the loose objects. A large boom radiated from the back of the ship and they took a nosedive, throwing him forward. He stopped when his body hit the wall, the breath knocking right out of him.
“Pull up, pull up,” James shouted from the bridge, gunfire continuing to be exchanged.
“I’m trying, but we’re going to crash,” Hattie yelled back. “The best I can do is land us in a place they can’t get to.”
Rubbing his head, Steven gulped. Being caught by patrols was bad. The kind that meant jails and aethergraphs to Quinn.
“Hold on,” Hattie yelled. “We’re about to kiss the ground.”
Something between a boom, a screech, and a wail filled the air as the entire craft shook. Steven was thrust forward again. This time he put his arms out in front of him. Pain shot through his left wrist.
“Everyone keep still,” Hattie ordered when the craft stopped shaking.
An eerie silence blanketed the ship as the engine went quiet. They could hear the engines of the other ships. It was so quiet they could probably hear the thunder of his own frantic heart. Steven crept toward the bridge where Hattie looked as if she literally held her breath. Finally, the sound of the engines disappeared. He breathed a sigh of relief that made his entire body shudder.
“What now?” Steven whispered from the doorway.
“Being downed air pirates in Deseret isn’t a good thing,” Hattie whispered back. “We get out, survey the damage, and pray we get ourselves back in the sky before the MoBatts spot us.”
“What about the Vixen’s Revenge?” James asked from the gunning station, a trickle of blood leaking from his lower lip.
Hattie shook her head slowly. “We pray they got away and get into safe airspace with no further problems.”
They stood in front of the small craft, the sun rising above them. Certainly, the wilds of Deseret Territory were beautiful, with the snow-crested rocks and mountains. Never had he seen such colors, at least not in this realm.
“What’s the damage?” Hattie asked Hittie.
The corners of Hittie’s lips turned down, the deep and disturbing frown seeming to permeate throughout her entire wiry form. “Fortuna smiled on us … sort of. It’s purely structural. They missed the engines. But how in Hades are we going to fix a broken tail and the breeches in the hull? If we can even find the tail.”
The schooner was made of wood and metal. Hmmm … Ignoring everyone, Steven placed his hands on the bullet-riddled hull. Yes … that could work. What about the tail? Moving over to the tail section, he examined it. If they could find the rest he just might be able to reattach it.
“Captain, if we repair the tail and the holes in the ship we could get to San Francisco?” A plan formed in Steven’s mind. Getting to Rahel before the rescue ladies alerted Dr. Heinz was still priority—and they couldn’t do that grounded in enemy territory.
“We could … in theory,” Hattie replied slowly, nodding as if doing so made the words more true. Certainly they wouldn’t last long if they couldn’t get airborne.
“Good,” Steven replied. “Why don’t you two find the rest of the tail? James and I will start on the repairs.” The sisters stood there, blinking as if he’d spoken in tongues.
Hittie’s arms crossed over her ample chest. Skepticism etched every inch of her face. “You mean you can repair the ship?”
“I think so.” He looked at James. “Right, James?”
James’ forehead furrowed, clearly not understanding what he meant. “Um, sure.”
“That gives me so much confidence,” Hittie huffed.
“Noli’s an ace engineer and I’ve been her chief assistant since we were children, I’ve learned a few things over the years.” Hopefully that would be explanation enough. “I can’t make any promises, but we have just as much reason to get back up in the air as you.”
Hattie toyed with the ends of her braid which had come unpinned at some point. “True … ” She looked to her sister. “We don’t have anything to lose.”
“You wreck my ship I wreck your face,” Hittie spat. “Let’s see if we can find the tail.” The two sisters retreated in the direction they’d fled from.
James came up beside him, eyes dancing with amusement. “What exactly is your plan?”
Despite the bone-chilling cold, Steven rolled up his sleeves so he could work. “We’re earth court. The ship is made of wood.”
“Are you mad?” James hissed, eyes going wide. “We’re not supposed to use magic unsupervised in this realm.”
Steven laughed. Now James wanted to be sensible? “Right, like you’ve ever paid attention to that. We’ve been using a tracking spell, remember?”
“That’s different. You want to use magic to repair someone else’s ship? While they’re here?” His voice rose in pitch, cracking a little, eyes widening, and cheeks flushing.
“Jam
es, if we don’t get there when the Vixen’s Revenge does, we won’t get Rahel, which means we won’t get the automaton, which means we’re back at square one and we’re running out of time.” He met his brother’s eyes. “If you have a better idea I’d love to hear it.”
“You look and sound so much like father right now.” A smile tugged at James’ lips.
Terror seized Steven’s chest as his hand went to his forehead. “I do? I’m so sorry.”
James chuckled and shook his head. “Better you than me. All right, let’s see what we can do … I’m not really good at this sort of magic.”
Steven put his hands over the breech in the hull nearest him. “Let’s give it a go.”
“Sure. I’ll take the other side, you take this one?” James jerked his head toward the other side of the little ship.
“Sounds good.” Steven’s attentions returned to the hull in front of him. The bullet holes were mostly superficial. It was the hull breaches he needed to repair so they could get airborne. Time to survey the damage. Magic tingled through his fingertips as he probed the breech and gently manipulated the wood to close the fissures. It was a slow, tedious process. He kept needing to stop and stamp to warm himself and blow on his hands. Finally, the breach closed and he breathed an icy sigh of relief. One down, one more to go … on this side. Then the tail.
When he’d finished both he found James peering at him, cheeks red from the cold. He whistled. “That’s nice work, too nice.”
“What do you mean too nice?” His fingers traced the breech as he scowled at his brother. “You can’t even tell.”
“Exactly. They won’t believe we plugged it if it looks perfect. Here, look at mine.”
James grabbed his arm and led him to the other side. Obvious repair lines marked where he’d merged the wood.
“I didn’t even mean it, but then I’m not as good as you.”
“It’s patience you lack, not talent,” Steven replied. “But I see what you mean, that’s a good idea.” The idea of marring his beautiful handiwork still made his belly churn.
“Really?” James brightened so much Steven wanted to put out his hands to warm them.
Charmed Vengeance Page 17