“What are the other two things?” the older woman pressed.
He looked over at Annabella worriedly. “I admit I’d like to try to exorcise all the ghosts and get out of here as quickly as possible, before anyone’s put in any further danger.”
Kitty gave a “yes” which sounded a bit like a yowl, backing him up.
“But I also know that’s unlikely to stop this, and if we leave it undone, other people might die. We need to focus on figuring out what’s behind all this ghostly cover.”
Annabella nodded at him, far less worried about her own safety than he was—and also clearly placing other people’s lives above her own. He loved her for it and also wanted to kidnap her and never let her near danger ever again.
Suddenly, garden parties and balls as the duke seemed like a really good idea. With apologies to the classical mystery novel, people rarely died at them.
“And if we’re going to figure out what’s going on,” he continued. “. . . at some point, we’re probably going to need bait. Unfortunately, Annabella seems to have already been chosen for that.”
He felt the bile rise in his throat as he said it and felt no better when Annabella smiled at him.
I love you for not taking the selfish path, my love, she told him, finishing aloud, “And now that we know for certain I’m the weak link, maybe we can figure out why.”
Finally, she looked back at the rest of the group.
“I’m guessing most of the others who were killed had no idea what was happening until they were attacked. I can at least provide clues from what I see.”
Smiling at all of them, she was clearly unconcerned. Armand wanted to kidnap her all the more.
“And I’m certain none of you will let me be harmed without a fight.”
Hubert looked concerned, for which Armand was thankful. He sort of wanted someone to talk him out of this madness.
“From what the latest victim was yelling at dinner,” Hubert went on. “. . . I’m not convinced that any of the others got the same kind of warnings that Annabella’s getting.”
Arms crossed, he stared at her.
“I’m just not certain whether that’s because someone’s trying to warn you or use you for something greater.”
They were both interesting—and hysterically worrying—options.
“I forgot something.” Annabella looked up. “Near the end of the dream, there was a man in an old-fashioned suit. He didn’t seem to know my name, but he was calling to me, telling me I could still leave.”
“Where was he?” Armand wondered.
“By the door to the deck.”
He thought about it. “On the side where the dapper ghost is supposed to guide or talk to people?”
She nodded, and Kitty hissed.
“Don’t like him,” the ex-cat growled.
Thinking back, Armand wondered, staring at his ex-pet. “When we were near the propeller, you said the area was evil.”
Kitty looked like she might spit again just at the memory but nodded. He saw Annabella stroking over the woman’s hand with her thumb, clearly trying to calm her.
“But you didn’t say that of the dapper ghost. You just said you didn’t like him.”
Before Kitty could repeat that—which she clearly wanted to—Armand went on.
“Was it the same feeling or sight or . . . whatever it is you got near the propeller?” he finished lamely.
Someday soon, I’ve really got to have a conversation with her about these things.
Annabella didn’t answer but clearly agreed.
Kitty sat for a moment, and he wasn’t certain whether she didn’t know the answer or were wondering how to explain.
“Remember when you came home with an evil night all over you?” she asked finally.
Everybody blinked.
Um. You had a relationship with an evil knight? Annabella stared. I learn something new about you every day.
Armand tried not to laugh, attempting to follow the ex-cat’s thoughts. “Do you mean when I came home after my first solo akukar job, when there were lume-noirs trailing from me I hadn’t noticed?”
Kitty looked entirely confused. He knew how she felt.
“Kind of like a black goo,” he attempted to clarify.
He began to wonder if any witch had ever written an English-to-cat translation program or dictionary.
While not looking entirely satisfied with this explanation, Kitty nodded. Armand remembered the incident, as she had been a kitten then and had nearly gone mad for hours. He’d thought she’d just been angry at being left alone so long until he’d realized what was happening.
“What about it?” he prompted.
“The thing in the hallway . . .”
“Near the propeller?” he interrupted.
Everyone else watched, apparently deciding that he was the best one to handle the ex-cat.
“Yes,” she agreed after a moment. “It’s like the . . . lume-noirs?”
He nodded, though she made it sound like a cat noise.
“. . . only it’s worse. The man by the railing is just . . .”
I really need that English-to-cat dictionary.
Yep, Annabella agreed.
“. . . unnatural,” Kitty finished finally.
Brutus barked out a sort of “yes.”
It wasn’t a very clear explanation to any of the humans in the room, but they were basically dealing with an English as a second language speaker trying to explain some very complex things their listener didn’t even have the senses to know about.
“So the thing by the propeller is definitely pretty bad,” Armand summed up. “The one by the railing might be more friendly.”
“Except . . .” Annabella shuddered. “. . . that one person died falling over the railing. We don’t know if the ghost wanted that or tried to prevent it.”
Armand suspected he wasn’t the only one in the room who got chills.
“And there’s something bad in the Grand Salon, as well,” he noted, then added suspiciously. “Do you think there was really an event they were preparing for yesterday, or is it just being barricaded for fear of something happening to another guest?”
As everyone remembered that the second victim had apparently died of fright there, the group chill went around again.
Looking to Miss Janeway, Annabella’s thoughts seemed to shift suddenly. “How did this last victim die?”
“Ah.” The older woman looked grim. “I’m afraid things have gotten a bit messier there.”
Annabella grimaced. “Messier than falling several stories onto the parking lot?”
Miss Janeway nodded. Drawing herself up to face the facts, she was clearly angry, although she might also have been giving them time to brace themselves.
“There were claw marks on her chest. And her heart was missing.”
Chapter 10
Annabella
Three hours later, Annabella’s mood was not the best. While the increasingly-gruesome—and ever harder to explain to the mundanes—murders would have been enough, her little foray to the dance of the dead in her nightmares had also apparently set off every protective instinct in those around her.
Thus, she went to a 6 A.M. breakfast in the Promenade Café surrounded by Armand (who refused to let go of her hand), Hubert and Brutus (who were there because Brutus wouldn’t leave Kitty), and an ex-cat who stalked continually back and forth, directly behind her.
“Guys,” she tried to say softly, so as not to disturb anyone who was fortunate enough to still be asleep—not to mention any ghostly listeners she couldn’t see. “We look ridiculous. Can we at least spread out a bit?”
“Not leaving you,” Kitty sulked, making another pass to the left side of the carpeted hallway, which, while ample, felt much too small now.
“You don’t have to, Kitty, but can you at least stop pacing?”
Behind her, Kitty stopped in her brush of the right wall, apparently to think about this. Annabella paused their progress to
look at her.
“Don’t have tail,” Kitty sulked. “Liked tail.”
Suddenly, Annabella envied Miss Janeway’s skills in dealing with the ex-cat and tried to make them her own. “Kitty, sweetie, you’re only giving us half a thought again.”
Staring at the floor morosely, Kitty took a deep breath. “A tail lets you show emotion without sound.”
She seemed to think about it, as Brutus put in a half-barked, “Yes, yes.” If he’d still had a tail, he’d have been wagging it.
“Cat language is half body language.” Kitty stared further down the hallway. “Human language takes sooooo long.”
Sadly, Annabella couldn’t entirely disagree, but she was distracted by Armand going to put a hand on the shoulder of his ex-pet. He still wouldn’t let Annabella go, though, so she kind of got pulled with him.
“Do you regret being made human?”
She knew it was a true fear for him. Apparently, it had been the cause of the friction she’d noticed between himself and Hubert back when she’d first seen them together. Armand knew he’d broken quite a few agreements with the magical world by making Sheba human and had hated that Hubert had made a similar, questionable decision.
Still, Kitty shook her head, not meeting his eye. “Don’t want to leave you.” She shrugged. “Just miss my tail.”
Armand? she pressed him. If they could ever stop being surrounded by frightening ghosts and murders, it was time for a long talk.
I know, he agreed, but she worried about him. He was too prone to blame himself for everything. Given all they were fighting here, she didn’t like that he was distracted.
Still, he didn’t say any more, just put his free arm around Kitty and led her on his other side toward breakfast. Given that they now filled the entire hallway in one long line of witches and ex-animals, she felt a bit like she was off to see the wizard.
Surprisingly, they were not the first ones, the Café filled with early morning risers. They were about the only ones who didn’t have gray or white hair, though.
As they waited for the hostess to return, Armand looked over at Hubert wryly. “You’re the right age. You should fit right in.”
She suspected he was just trying to lighten the mood.
Certainly, Hubert didn’t seem to take offense, smiling. “You should talk, cradle robber.”
Annabella sighed, knowing they were both right, the whole difference in ages a bit confusing. Being partnered to a witch when she’d been raised in the human world had its difficulties sometimes.
Distracting herself a bit, she took the opportunity to really notice the restaurant. She’d been too concerned with being late—and too overcome by Miss Janeway’s general aura—to do so yesterday.
Certainly, it was an oddly-shaped, long but narrow room, as the ship had enclosed one of the outside decks to create it. All the tables—which were of a pretty-standard, modern hotel type and not at all the usual luxury the ship exuded—were crammed into the odd space, giving the whole area a strange sort of feeling.
As Nicolette came back, retrieving some menus, she beamed at them, somehow reminding Annabella to keep up appearances. Given the hostess’ happy look, Annabella wasn’t certain whether she didn’t know about the murders or was just very good at putting on a front.
“You’re in early this morning.”
Apparently, she saw Armand as the de facto head of the group and mostly addressed him.
“I can seat you by yourselves, if you like. But I got a surprise last night.”
There’d been plenty of those. As she pointed to a table with several empty chairs where a solitary little old lady sat, delicately nibbling her toast, they waited.
“My great-grandmother’s friend, my kind of unofficial second great-grandmother, checked in last night! You remember?” She looked at Annabella. “The one I told you about?”
Annabella nodded.
“Would you like to sit with her, instead?”
Remembering now that she hadn’t really passed on that conversation to Armand, Annabella wasn’t certain how much of it he had listened to through their link.
Yes. Absolutely, she prodded him.
Hopefully, Kitty and Brutus wouldn’t be too much of a distraction.
“We’d like that,” Armand smiled.
She caught Hubert’s pleasant nod, although also thought she saw his confusion. Deciding she’d have to explain later, she followed to the woman’s table.
“Granny Miriam? Would you like some company?” Nicolette said in a voice which was both pleasant but also suggested that the person she was talking to was a few lollipops short of a candy counter.
Granny Miriam’s eyes were not clouded or confused. Seeming mildly amused by Nicolette and too fond to correct her, she appeared perfectly happy being alone but gave in politely.
“Of course, dear. That would be fine.”
The group took their seats, but, although Hubert pushed himself forward—as he had a long-honed ability to charm little old ladies—Miriam made it clear that she wished Annabella and Kitty to sit on either side. Giving into her wishes, they sat.
Maybe she doesn’t like strange men?
Granted it’s hard to get much stranger than Brutus when he’s eating, Armand agreed.
There was an awkward moment at first, as Annabella thought to her partner, Crap! I suck at small talk! This is why I SHOULDN’T be a duchess!
Seeing his smile, she still tried, as Miriam seemed most interested in her.
“Nicolette was telling us yesterday about how she’s descended from one of the war brides the Queen Mary brought over. She mentioned you then. I didn’t know you were planning a vacation, though.”
“Neither did Nicolette, apparently, although I come here at the same time every year.”
As Nicolette seated another older couple, Miriam smiled at the woman.
“I love that girl, but she has the memory of a goldfish.”
As this wasn’t the sort of comment which could be politely followed up on, Annabella decided to press on. Still, she wasn’t certain how to phrase what she wanted to know without making it sound like she thought the woman was either too timid or unimaginative to go somewhere else.
Do you think Tillie can give me lessons in chitchat? she wondered to Armand. That woman had been able to lead a polite conversation between a zombie, a tree nymph, and a dragon. It was just that, most of the time, she chose not to.
Before Armand could answer, though, Kitty stepped in. “Is there something about the ship which makes you want to return?”
It was a bit of a prying question but pretty good for a transmogrified cat.
“You do pick up on things,” Miriam smiled at her. She had warm brown eyes and a very old ladyish hairstyle. She also wore a hat with a little pink veil on the front over her forehead and seemed to appreciate Kitty’s flights of fashion, as the purple fascinator the ex-cat now wore added at least another six inches to her already considerable height.
The older woman took her hand, and Kitty smiled. Not surprisingly, the ex-cat liked to be touched. They really were going to have to work on that in ways that wouldn’t shock the neighbors.
“It’s the anniversary of the week I first came over. I come every year to commemorate it.”
Annabella kept up her smile, but wondered to Armand, That was at least 75 years ago. From what Hubert found on the net last night . . .
Searching everything possible about the Queen Mary had taken up the few hours before they could go to even an early breakfast.
. . . those trips were not pleasure cruises. All those women and children were pretty much packed on in bunk beds.
As the ship had been retooled to carry large numbers of soldiers already, its owners clearly hadn’t seen a reason to put it back into shape for the luxury trade till it finished this last piece of war work.
What about it would have drawn her back once a year for all those decades in between?
Clearly, she was not the only one to thin
k of this, Kitty now looking kind and sad. “Did you lose someone you were looking for?”
Miriam seemed first surprised then mournful. “You’re very perceptive, my dear.”
Still, the small smile she gave her passed, her eyes on the table a bit misty.
“I had two children at the time. They were the son and daughter of my first marriage, to a British airman who was shot down early in the war. My second husband was an airman too, but an American one, of course.”
As the ship wouldn’t have brought her to the country had he not been American, this made sense.
Annabella wasn’t certain whether she should or not but placed her hand over the one which Kitty wasn’t holding. Miriam smiled at her briefly before her tale went on.
“Caroline and Max had both been ill with measles before the trip.” She looked up. “They weren’t contagious anymore, but they were quite weak, as we started out.”
Pausing for a moment, she stared into the past, and they were all quiet, as they waited for her to finish.
“It was a very rough crossing with so many people on board.”
When she went on, her voice became very quiet.
“They were just too weak to withstand it.”
“They died on board?” Hubert put in sadly.
Miriam nodded. “Dorothy—that was Nicolette’s great-grandmother—Cecily, and Patricia became my good friends on that journey.” Looking up at them, she smiled. “It’s because of the three of them that I made it, both then and once I was in the U.S.”
Looking around at the ship, she smiled slightly.
“I come here to remember them.”
This was a lot of information for someone to give complete strangers, especially someone raised in a much earlier era and who was originally English to boot.
Still looking at her gently, Annabella asked Armand, Are you bespelling her to be more willing to talk?
No, but I’m fairly certain Hubert is. It’s such a gentle spell I can barely see it, though.
Annabella could see it, but she understood what he meant. Still, she didn’t think it was Hubert’s. It wasn’t the usual color of his magic.
No. It’s more like someone left a very mild . . .
Sorcerers, Spirits, and Ships Page 7