Tea before Dying

by Vered Ehsani

  “Oh.” I frowned at the carpet. “Thank you?”

  “Bah,” Mzito shouted from outside the room.

  “Sounds like fun,” a voice whispered around us. Gideon materialized by Simon’s head. “We knew you’d come around, old chap.”

  “And it’s time to go,” I said, rushing to the door with Koki on my heels.

  Having somehow divined my intentions, Jonas had Nelly saddled. Or perhaps he hadn’t bothered to unsaddle her from my previous jaunt. Either way, we were soon racing toward the forest. Simon’s long legs were almost wrapped around Nelly’s belly, his black leather trench coat flapping behind him. I desperately clung to the neck of a giant praying mantis. Gideon cackled above my head. Mzito declined to accompany us while Lady Sybil had vanished immediately after my successful bird trick.

  The forest soon folded us in its ancient, cool embrace. Giant trees blocked out the sun while thick roots slowed our progress. As we approached the cave in which Prof. Runal had entered, we stopped our hurried march. Koki shifted into her feminine form, a simple, sleeveless red dress swirling about her.

  “Nelly, stay here,” I ordered.

  The horse snorted and snuffled around until she found a flowering bush to devour. I led the way through the thick underbrush, most of which had thorns and brambles intent on slowing us down or at least tearing my clothes.

  “There’s the cave,” Simon murmured in my ear.

  Gideon snickered in my other ear, “Talk about stating the obvious.”

  “Men,” Koki growled.

  I would’ve rolled my eyes except I needed to focus on searching for any energy near us. Apart from the glow of insects, birds and a blue-headed lizard, there was nothing outside the cave. If Prof. Runal was still in the area, he must be deeper inside.

  Crouching down to the side of the entrance, I retrieved a small mirror from my leather pouch. It had been a gift from Mrs. Steward. Angling the mirror around the corner, I studied the interior of the cave in more detail without exposing more than the tips of two fingers. It was the best use of a pocket mirror even if it wasn’t the one my dear aunt had imagined when she gave it to me last Christmas.

  “No one’s home,” I said, a disappointed sigh escaping my pursed lips. Resting against the wall, I studied the ornate mirror. Dampness sunk through my shirt, the rough stone digging into my skin.

  Grinning as I imagined Mrs. Steward’s shock at how I was using her gift, I mused without realizing I was speaking aloud, “I should ask for more useful Christmas presents every year.”

  “Don’t expect a gift from me,” Koki said, not bothering to question the background of my curious statement.

  “You know what Christmas is?” Gideon asked in his whispery voice, his eyebrows rising.

  With a sneer, Koki glowered at him. “It may not be an African tradition but I’ve heard of it. Although if any man were to sneak into my home with a bag of loot, I’d decapitate him.”

  As this was the standard response of the praying mantis about any man, I didn’t bother to react. Gideon muttered, “For once, I’m glad I’m already dead.”

  “So are we,” Simon said.

  Koki chuckled, a rich, warm sound that, had I not known better, would have me believing she was joking about murdering Santa Claus.

  “Do be quiet,” I scolded them and entered the cave.

  The ground was uneven, rough and damp. A steady drip splashed in a puddle to one side, the splat echoing through the darkness. On the back wall of the cave was a man-sized crack that created a corridor of sorts. As I approached its entrance, I could discern a faint glow. Pressing up against the wall, I again used my mirror and studied the small reflection.

  The corridor was almost empty save for a torch flickering in the draft, the flames casting shadows against the stone walls. An armor-clad skeleton slumped on the floor. It was close enough for me to see a spider huddled on the edge of an empty eye socket.

  “That looks like the ones we saw in Nameless’ stone house,” Gideon commented, his head sticking out of the stone as he peered into the skeleton’s ear hole.

  “Oh, yes, that delightful place.” Koki smiled as she reminisced on one of our adventures. Turning to Simon, she added, “Did you know your wife is afraid of heights?”

  “I am not,” I whispered, my grip on the mirror tightening. “But that gondola wasn’t exactly well maintained, and the giant boulder didn’t look too stable either.”

  “It’s all right, little girl,” Koki purred as she leaned against the stone. “We all have a fear or two. Well, I don’t but the rest of you…” She chuckled.

  “Perhaps Nameless is here then,” Simon said. Sliding between Koki and me, he pressed up against my side and studied the image in the mirror. “He could’ve brought that with him to make this place feel like home.”

  “It’s working,” Gideon said, twisting his head in the stone to stare back at us. A manic grin turned his angelic features into something bordering demonic. “I will have to compliment him on his choice of interior decorations.”

  Stuffing the mirror into my pouch, I slid around the corner. Simon followed close behind, grabbing my elbow as he did.

  “If the dwarf is here,” he warned, “then the werewolf is definitely involved in mischief.”

  “Or perhaps he’s trying to stop Nameless,” I countered, my voice feeble.

  Simon huffed but said nothing. In the silence, the echoes of water dripping seemed louder.

  The narrow corridor wasn’t very long and ended at another cavern, one that had clear indications that someone was residing in it. A mattress covered in a green-and-red blanket was pushed into one corner; a circle of stones in the center created a fire pit with a few embers still smoldering; in another corner was a small trunk over which was flung a set of clothes I recognized from the party.

  “Aren’t those the good professor’s?” Simon asked, stepping closer.

  I didn’t need to see them to know Prof. Runal had been staying there. His scent was everywhere. Simon held up the trousers. At the bottom was a tear in the pant leg. “It appears as if Prof. Runal had an unpleasant encounter with a certain newlywed.”

  “I should have known that werewolf would double-cross us,” I muttered, turning away from the evidence. As my eyes prickled, I lowered my head and fiddled with my walking stick.

  Simon’s hand settled on my upper back, rubbing my shoulders.

  “Your judgment does seem a trifle lax as of late,” Koki said as she stalked around the cave.

  The ghost on my other side grunted, “Indeed, she agreed to accompany you on this mission, Koki. If that’s not the epitome of laxity, I can’t imagine what is.”

  “Enough, Gideon,” Simon snapped, his hands stroking my arms.

  Shaking my head, I retrieved a dart from my stick and blinked away the moisture in my eyes. “I wonder: if I doubled the amount of tranquilizer, would it kill a werewolf?”

  “One can always hope,” Koki said. Then again, the tall, lithe African woman was as lethal as any poison, so if I missed…

  Gideon refrained from commenting which could only mean he concurred with the demon’s sentiment.

  Unable to stifle his smile, Simon said, “Aren’t you the bloodthirsty lot.”

  Gideon snorted. “There’s no you, only we.”

  “At the risk of stating the obvious, he’s not here,” I said, frowning at the neatly made bed and the lack of a villain, apart from the ones by my side. “Where could he have gone now?”

  “Yes, the man should be as eager to die as we are to dispatch him,” Gideon said and snickered. “And the dwarf. Don’t forget the dwarf. I certainly haven’t. Let’s see how he likes being stuffed in a bottle.”

  “He wouldn’t fit,” I said, not really paying attention. As nasty as Nameless was—and he had locked Gideon into a bottle after kidnapping Lilly and me—at least I knew where I stood with the dwarf. He was consistent, almost honest, in his nefarious activities. But Prof. Runal…

  “I nee
d a cup of tea,” I murmured.

  “Really?” Gideon asked, floating before me. “At a time like this?”

  “There’s always time for tea,” I whispered as I began to totter, the cave shifting around me.

  Simon shouted a curse, and then the world went dark.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I WONDER IF death is like this.

  Such were my thoughts as I floated above the cave in a swirl of color and flute music. Below me, two people stumbled out of the cave with a third hanging limp in the arms of one of them. Before I could move closer to investigate, a golden energy swooped through me and carried me up into the clouds.

  A hawk, I thought, bemused that I should once again be flying.

  I’m glad you find this amusing, the hawk replied.

  Even in my foggy, bodiless state, I tried to straighten up at the strident voice. Lady Sybil?

  Pay attention, she snapped. This poor bird is having a hard time of it with both of us in here. I need to show you something before I lose hold of him. We’ve been flying around for a while, searching. And then we found this.

  I tried to look around for Lady Sybil, expecting to see her sitting on the back of the bird, back ramrod straight, parasol in hand, white dress billowing in the wind of our passage. But my gaze was fixed on whatever the bird was watching which was a train.

  Who cares, I thought, wondering where Simon was taking my body.

  Pay attention.

  Sighing, I focused on the train. It was the weekly freight train which supplied Nairobi with the necessities of civilization—newspapers, cigarettes and tea—and supplies for the railroad. It left Nairobi with hunting trophies and those travelers who could tolerate the less comfortable seating arrangement in exchange for a cheap ticket.

  A few last-minute packages were being loaded into the carriages while passengers hastened to board. The station master rang his bell, bellowing to everyone to hurry along. Steam puffed from the engine. With a shriek, the hawk dipped lower and angled its wings so it could see the platform more clearly. Several crates were being carried into the last carriage. On the side of one crate were holes punched into the wooden boarding; something wiggled into view. A nose? A finger?

  There’s something alive in there, I thought. Distantly, I felt my heart contract with the horror of it.

  Detecting my reaction, the hawk shrieked again and flew away from the train station, going higher and higher, its gaze focused on the empty blue sky beyond.

  Hurry, Lady Sybil ordered. Go straight to the train before we lose them.

  At those words, I plummeted down through the thin clouds, a flock of Egyptian geese, the branches of trees and into my body.

  Jerking upward, I stared into Simon’s startled eyes. “We need to catch a train.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “THIS IS ABSURD, Beatrice,” Simon spat as I staggered toward Nelly. “You’re in no condition to catch a train today. And where do you want to go?”

  “We have to catch today’s train,” I said, my lips rubbery, my knees shaking. I clung to Nelly’s neck and gazed over my shoulder at my astonished companions.

  “If I wasn’t already dead,” Gideon quipped, “it’d probably kill me to say this, but I agree with Simon.”

  “That means so much to me,” Simon growled, his stormy gaze fixed on me.

  Koki sauntered toward me. “While I’m not one to concur with the males, I find myself in an awkward situation—”

  “Yes, I appreciate the point and all the difficulties that come with it,” I interrupted as I eyed the saddle. It seemed so much higher than normal. “Lady Sybil picked me up in a hawk and—”

  “She did what?” Simon asked, his eyebrows crunched together as his expression turned incredulous.

  “I think Beatrice has fainted one too many times,” Gideon said, floating above Simon. “She didn’t bump her head on the last one, did she?”

  “I. Don’t. Faint,” I said, glaring at the ghost. “Lady Sybil was flying with the birds…”

  “This gets better and better,” Gideon said, grinning.

  “… And she picked me up,” I continued as if Gideon hadn’t interrupted me. “We flew to the train station where they’re loading crates with baby shifters inside. The train was about to depart. It’s probably pulled out of the station by now.”

  “Is Grace in there?” Koki asked. While her countenance appeared disinterested, there was a strain around her eyes and in her voice.

  “I… I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so but…” I paused. “Surely not. Lady Sybil would’ve heard of it and told me.”

  Koki looked away, up to the patches of sky that gleamed through the thick branches. “Either way, we need to stop that train.”

  “Not you, too,” Gideon groaned.

  “Gideon, go tell Tiberius what’s happening and where we’re headed,” I ordered.

  “What am I, the messenger boy?” he grumbled before vanishing.

  Simon came to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder. “How do we stop it if it’s already left?”

  “We fly, of course,” I said. “Come on, Simon, there’s no time to argue. Help me up.”

  “Wait,” he said and reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “You need this.” He retrieved a thick piece of chocolate and held it before my mouth.

  “You brilliant, gorgeous man,” I moaned and bit into the chocolate.

  Koki rolled her eyes. “Time is of the essence, dear children, so please don’t turn this into a romantic scene.”

  “Perish the thought,” Simon said although the glimmer in his eyes suggested otherwise.

  Chocolate devoured and energy returned, I pulled myself into the saddle, Simon clinging on behind me. With a shake of her head, Koki shifted into a praying mantis the size of my palm and leaped onto Nelly’s head where she clung to the mane.

  “Find the train, Nelly,” I said, picturing the train pulling out of Nairobi, steam billowing behind it like a wedding veil.

  Jerking her head out of the bush she had been eating, Nelly snorted, neighed and leaped upward. The race was on.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  LANDING ON A moving train is no small feat. Doing so while steering a flying horse is even more exceptional. If I’d thought too much about it, I might have abandoned the plan and flew on to Mombasa to meet the villains there. Then again, sometimes the best plans occur when there is little thought involved.

  This wasn’t one of those times.

  I knew the moment Nelly hurtled toward the train, steam billowing across my view. The only place to land was on top of the train. How would Nelly’s hooves find purchase in the smooth metal? And what of the automaton that was crawling up the side of the caboose, its glowing eyes fixed on us?

  “Nelly, no,” I wailed just as her hooves clattered against the train in a gallop. She stumbled and pitched forward. Simon cursed as his nose connected with the back of my head; then Nelly flung us over her neck as she collapsed on her side to the sound of bone snapping. Braying, she rolled over and fell off the train.

  I landed on my side, all the air punched out of my lungs. Struggling to breathe, I slid a few feet farther before my prosthetic hand latched onto a ridge near the front of the caboose. My feet dangled over empty space but my attention was on the horse lying on the ground near the railway tracks, her eyes closed, one of her front legs at an unnatural angle. Next to the horse, a praying mantis exploded into view, growing to the size of an elephant, and began to race after us.

  “Nelly,” I whispered.

  “She’ll be fine, Beatrice,” Simon said as he stumbled to his feet and yanked me up, his eyes studying me for any indication of injury.

  “Are you sure?” I sobbed, my gaze fixed on the ever-diminishing view of my horse.

  “No, I’m not,” Simon replied, his brutal honesty snapping my attention to him. “But we have bigger problems. Look.”

  My attention returned to our situation. Two automatons had clawed the
ir way up onto the roof of the caboose, one on either end, while a third struggled along the side, its eyes glaring as it attempted to use a revolving blade to latch on to the edge.

  A herd of zebra up ahead scattered when the train’s whistle blasted the air. As if in response, the wheels began to spin faster, clacking against the metal rails beneath us. More steam billowed around us. The metal roof quivered and twitched from side to side. A dry, dusty wind snatched at my hair, tugging strands of it free from the braid.

  “What’s making them move?” I yelled over the howling wind.

  Simon pulled me close. I could feel his energy lash around us, seeking some human to latch on to and drain.

  “Energy,” I murmured and squinted at the closest automaton. The metal skeleton opened its jaws, revealing razor teeth and an energy field that was human.

  “Simon,” I shouted, yanking at his jacket lapel to attract his attention. “They have human energy inside them. Remember Liam?”

  “I’d rather not,” Simon said as he tried to keep all three automatons in his view.

  “Well, it was possessed by Mrs. Cricket’s spirit. That’s what allowed it to move so independently. Somehow, the Society has managed to do the same with these.” I shuddered, wondering how Prof. Runal had accomplished such a feat, and whom he’d killed in order for this abomination to occur.

  “In that case…” Simon grinned, and I didn’t much care for his expression. I half-closed my eyes against the stinging wind and could feel the tentacles of his energy hurtle outward.

  “Simon, is this wise?” I asked, hugging him close.

  “About as wise as landing a flying horse on top of a speeding train.”

  I gulped. “In other words, it’s a terrible idea.”

  The closest automaton jerked forward onto its knees with a metallic clatter. Glowing eyes faded as Simon absorbed the energy, his features briefly shifting into some other person as he completed the identity theft. The automaton crashed against the roof.

  Behind us, blades snapped. We turned and ducked as a pair of scissors as long as an arm snipped the air where my neck had been. With a roar, Simon flung out his energy more forcefully than I’d ever seen. Before the scissors could open, the automaton collapsed, falling off the back of the train. The third automaton was still struggling to claw its way up the side of the train as Simon dispatched it in a similar manner.