Amid Wind and Stone

by Nicole Luiken

  Genteel young ladies shouldn’t crave adventure, but Audrey knew she wasn’t proper at all, inside. She was her father’s daughter to the bone.

  Fiercely, she hoped The Phantom would appear—and kiss her again. But she was practical enough to not want to be caught. Thus her little stroll.

  The royal gardens possessed some nut trees as well as fruit trees rooted in precious soil, the work of generations. Unfortunately, the shady orchard seemed to be a magnet for clandestine kisses between giggling girls and fumble-fingered boys.

  As Audrey retreated, she began to feel dizzy. She put her hand on the bark of a cherry tree to steady herself.

  The world spun around her. Looking up, she saw the huge hydroponic wheels turning, dipping green plants into a nutrient bath so they could grow without soil. No more snowflakes drifted down.

  Oh, dear. How could she be sick now? Please let the dizziness pass soon!

  Black spots danced before her eyes. Her knees weakened. She slid down the tree, getting her pretty skirts muddy.

  Something was very wrong. She opened her mouth to call for help and saw that she wasn’t the only one affected. All over the garden, children were swooning.

  Someone needed to sound the alarm.

  Audrey used the tree trunk to pull herself upright, then stumbled from tree to tree, almost pitching forward on her face several times. Her head pounded with a black headache, and her feet felt like blocks attached to her legs.

  When she reached the garden path, she gave up and crawled. Head swimming, she concentrated on putting each hand just so—and almost screamed when she encountered two ten-year-old boys lying there. To her immense relief, their chests still rose and fell, unnaturally asleep.

  The scare revived her slightly, or perhaps the air was better closer to the floor, but crawling took forever. At last, she spied Prince Hans. He stood amid a crumpled circle of guards.

  The prince’s eyes were wide and scared, on the verge of tears. Or screaming.

  Why was he still awake?

  Audrey thought she should know the answer to that question, but her head was too thick and filled with fog. She kept crawling.

  A hand grasped her elbow. The blurry outline of The Phantom loomed over her, expression grim. “Audrey, hold on. Don’t fall asleep. Call the wind.”

  Ah. That was the solution. She had known it.

  Prince Hans started to howl, but the sound seemed distant and unreal.

  Her eyelids drooped, then slid shut. Maybe she’d just take a little nap on the ground…

  “Audrey.” His voice was urgent. “Audrey, please wake up. Zephyr, bring her fresh air.” He knelt beside her, supporting her head, which wanted to loll back.

  A sluggish breeze blew across her face. A curl tickled her chin. She tried to push it away, but her hand felt too heavy, detached from her arm. “Did you bring the button?” she mumbled.

  “Yes, Audrey. Here.” He folded her fingers around a circular shape. “I’ll collect on the kiss later. Please, please wake up.”

  Looking at his wind-blurred outline made her eyes tear up, so she closed them again. How could he feel so solid and warm and real and yet barely be there to her sight?

  The breeze stirred again. A minute of fresh air lifted her lethargy. Panic crashed down in its place, jolting her upright. Had she really been lying with her head on a boy’s lap?

  “What’s happening?” So many fallen, including the prince’s guards. “Is it a Siparese attack?” She rolled onto her knees and stuffed the button in her pocket.

  “No,” The Phantom said grimly. “It’s a burglary gone wrong.”

  A robbery? Audrey blinked at him. For the first time, she noticed the leather bag slung around his chest. A strand of fine gold chain peeked out.

  She balled up her fist and hit him in the stomach. He let out an oof of air. “What have you done?”

  “It wasn’t supposed to work like this,” The Phantom said defensively. He rubbed his abdomen.

  “What wasn’t?”

  “The Snowflake Device.” The Phantom pulled her to her feet. “It’s been modified. It was supposed to make everyone at the ball gay and cheerful so they wouldn’t notice when I picked their pockets, but the little prince decided he wanted the Device for his party. Something’s gone wrong. It’s pumping out a sedative gas. We have to shut it off.”

  A sickly sweet smell teased Audrey’s nostrils, and the lethargy settled over her again.

  “Zephyr,” Audrey Called. The brave wind spirit swirled around her face, but in the enclosed dome, she had little power. Audrey knew the wind was weak by her uncharacteristic silence.

  Audrey drew in three deep breaths. “How do we shut it off?”

  “I don’t know! I didn’t build the bloody thing.” The Phantom ran his hand through his invisible hair, sounding harassed.

  “No, but you modified it, didn’t you?”

  His silence made her want to hit him again.

  “Does it have an on/off switch?”

  He shook his head, a blur of motion. “No. I was told the happy gas function would automatically switch on when it ran out of ice for making snowflakes.”

  “You have to fix it,” she said fiercely.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I’ll plug up the vent or jam something in the gears. But it may take me a while. There’s not enough wind to lift me up; I’ll have to climb. Will you be all right here?”

  “Yes,” she assured him. “Go.”

  He sprinted off. She lost track of his blurry form after a few feet.

  The prince’s scream attracted her attention. Red splotched his face, and tears streamed from his eyes. When he saw her, the only other person still awake, he threw himself at her legs, wailing.

  Nonplussed, Audrey didn’t move for a moment. Under normal circumstances, she’d never touch the royal person, but he was a crying child as well as a prince. She boosted Prince Hans up to perch on her hip the way she’d seen Grady do with his younger siblings. “Hush. It will be all right.”

  A hollow reassurance, but the prince believed her. He stopped shrieking, at any rate.

  Audrey drew in a deeper breath. She could breathe better this close to the prince. The wind spirit, Sirocco, was rumored to be sworn to the service of the royal family.

  “I want Mother.” Prince Hans’s plump bottom lip stuck out. He had dark hair and deep blue eyes. He wore a blue velvet jacket and knee breeches, white stockings, and blue shoes with golden buckles.

  “Then let’s go find her,” Audrey said. She carried the prince out of the small courtyard toward the entrance. Though he was only five years old, his sturdy body quickly became heavy. Her arms ached. She tried setting him down on the path. “Can you walk?” But he only clung to her, crying again. In the end, it was easier to boost him back onto her hip, his little hands clinging to her neck, and stagger on.

  She swerved around a sleeper—and saw two men heading toward her on the path. Two men in bright clown costumes, wearing gas masks.

  Kidnappers!

  She spun and ran into the orchard. Her feet sank in the muddy soil.

  Shouts chased her. “There!”

  “Get her!”

  She couldn’t let them take the prince, but neither could she carry the five-year-old for long. He bounced in her arms with every stride, hurting her muscles. At least he’d stopped screaming.

  She swerved left around a tree and almost tripped on a group of sleeping children. Audrey swayed on her feet. Her arms were ready to give out, and the kidnappers were between her and the exit.

  “Prince Hans, lie down. I’m going to hide you.” She set the prince down. She feared he’d start screaming again, but instead, he obediently lay down with the other sleeping children. “Stay here and be quiet. I’m going to lead the bad men away, all right?” She arranged a little girl’s white skirt to cover the prince’s distinctive clothing and removed his blue cloak.

  Voices behind her.

  She held the blue cloak bundled up as if it were
a child and noisily crashed through some branches, trying to draw the pursuit.

  Almost immediately, she noticed the absence of Sirocco. She gasped for breath and tasted the sweetish sedative. Hurry up, Phantom.

  A branch whipped across her face. She tripped over a root and fell sprawling. Her teeth snapped together as her chin made violent contact with the ground. Mud spattered her dress and caked her fingers. The world spun.

  She lurched to her hands and knees. Nausea twisted inside her stomach. “Zephyr.” The wind barely stirred, too weak to reach her.

  Footsteps crashed behind her. “I see her!” a man yelled.

  Up ahead, Audrey saw her ghostly reflection in the glass. She’d reached the dome wall. On the other side lay a dizzying drop—and air.

  The wind outside shrieked, shaking the panes angrily. Not just Zephyr but many of the winds wanted inside, wanted to help their long-winded families.

  All they needed was an entrance. Audrey raked through the mud, hoping for a rock. She found a half-rotten apple and threw it. The core smushed against the glass but didn’t break it.

  Blackening vision…

  The world jerked into focus as someone yanked her upright. “Got her!”

  An orange wig and a gas mask hid his face. His clown coat with orange pom-poms hung open, revealing a blunderbuss pistol tucked in his belt.

  “Never tell you,” Audrey gasped. She staggered forward, falling against him. He had to use both arms to catch her.

  Head foggy, she watched herself seize the blunderbuss. She didn’t even try to draw the weapon, just lifted the barrel, cocked the hammer back, and pulled the trigger as her father had taught her.

  Bang!

  Glass shattered. The recoil made her release the weapon; the kidnapper flinched and dropped her.

  Wind rushed through the hole the bullet punched in the garden dome—sweet, fresh air.

  “Audrey, Audrey.”

  She inhaled in gulps, and it pushed away the cobwebs. “Zephyr, help Sirocco protect the prince! Wake his guards!”

  Another clown rushed up, this one with a blue wig and floppy shoes. “You idjit! Why’d you let her fire your gun?” he demanded of his partner.

  “Shut up and grab her legs!”

  Hands roughly grabbed Audrey’s ankles, and another set seized her under the armpits. The two men lifted her.

  “What are you doing? I’m not the prince.”

  “We don’t want the prince. We’re here to kidnap you, Admiral Harding’s gal.” They continued carting her away.

  “Why?” It made no sense.

  “Queenie’s orders.”

  “Queen Winifrid?” Audrey asked, befuddled.

  That made them laugh. “No, girlie. The Queen o’ Thieves.”

  Fear shot down her spine. “Help!” She twisted and torqued her body, kicking. But her kidnappers were grown men and burly. They swore but didn’t drop her. Her muddy skirts kicked up, exposing her ruffled drawers. Instead of being embarrassed, her helplessness made her furious. “Zephyr, find The Phantom.”

  “Going!” The breeze zipped away.

  The droning of the Device had stopped. Where was The Phantom?

  The men carried her back down the path at a shambling run. Each stride jolted her bones. “Help!”

  “Shut up, or I’ll slap you silly!” the orange-wigged clown said.

  Judging him too busy running to make good on the threat, she kept yelling.

  People were waking up—but most were children younger than she was. They just stared or moaned and clutched their stomachs, still sick from the sedative.

  “Almost there,” Orange Wig grunted.

  Alarm beat in Audrey’s chest when she saw they’d almost reached the gardener’s entrance. A guard in royal livery slumped, unconscious, in front of the door.

  She was out of time. Rescue wasn’t coming.

  “Zephyr, blind them!”

  “Take that!” The breeze blasted dust into the kidnappers’ eyes above their gas masks. Blue Wig swore and dropped her legs, clawing at his eyes with gloved hands. Orange Wig sneezed and set her down.

  Flat on her back like a turtle, Audrey bared her teeth and kicked. Her heel smashed Blue Wig between his legs—with astonishing effect. He screamed and doubled over, presenting a perfect target.

  She kicked him in the chin.

  “Why you little—” Orange Wig narrowed his eyes at her. He stooped to grab her arms, and she whipped her head back and slammed her skull into his head.

  “Halt!” a man cried.

  She looked hopefully for The Phantom, but it was the guard. He’d awakened—thanks to the wind she’d Called.

  He rushed up, flourishing his own blunderbuss.

  Orange Wig grabbed his friend’s arm, and they fled. The guardsman fired. Smoke puffed out, but he must have missed, because the kidnappers kept running.

  She was safe. Her heart thudded with relief.

  “Miss, are you all right?” Instead of reloading, the guardsman bent over her. “Did those ruffians hurt you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, and it was true. She’d saved herself. She sat up and struggled to order her thoughts. “There was an attack with sleeping gas. The prince is safe. I hid him in the orchard.”

  The guardsman swore and took off at a run before she could say another word.

  Feeling like an old woman, Audrey hauled herself to her feet. The need to find her father and tell him what had happened overwhelmed her. He would know what to do.

  On unsteady legs, she left the gardens but hesitated at the bottom of the steps leading to the ballroom. The strains of a waltz reached her ears, reminding her that she must look a fright. She reached for her handkerchief to wipe off her face, and her fingers found the gold uniform button The Phantom had given her, the proof of his existence.

  When she saw her father, how much should she tell him? Should she leave out The Phantom? He’d helped her, but he’d also admitted to modifying the Device. And he’d stolen more jewelry.

  She couldn’t lie to her father, this was too important, but— “Zephyr, warn The Phantom he must leave at once.”

  The pike-armed guards at the door exchanged uneasy glances when they took in her appearance. “Would you like us to fetch your mother or someone?”

  Before she could convince them she really did need to enter the ballroom right now, in all her muddy glory, their fellow guardsman strode up, carrying the crying prince. They fell silent and moved to the side. Audrey slipped inside in his shadow.

  The prince’s entrance caused a stir in the ballroom. Conversation stuttered, then started again in sharp whispers. The guardsman made straight for the queen, where she sat on her throne, resplendent in burgundy velvet, her brown hair caught back in a diamond snood.

  “Momma!” The prince twisted in his guard’s arms and leapt for the queen.

  She barely caught him, but the annoyance on her face turned to alarm when the guard knelt before her and begged her pardon. An attack on the prince, everyone losing consciousness…

  Lady Henderson was standing nearby. “Ben, Katie!” Face pale, she rushed from the ballroom. The parents of other children quickly made their own exodus as the news rippled through the crowd.

  Audrey espied her father off in a corner. He was standing too close to the voluptuous red-haired Lady Sharpe and exchanging flirtatious looks. Lady Sharpe tapped his wrist with her fan but seemed entirely willing to let him look down her décolletage.

  Once, Audrey would have burned with furious embarrassment for this disregard for her own mother. Usually she avoided her father’s current amour. Today, she didn’t have time.

  “Father!”

  His head came up alertly. Taking in her appearance, his black brows swooped down. “Audrey? What’s wrong?”

  “There’s been an attack on the Children’s Ball,” Audrey told him. “A device spewed out sedative gas. Everyone fell unconscious.”

  “The prince?” Lady Sharpe abandoned flirtation and hastened
to Queen Winifrid’s side.

  “I saw The Phantom again.” Before her father could say anything, she gave him the gold button. “Do you recognize this? It’s from your uniform. You asked for proof that The Phantom is real. This is it. He gave it to me.”

  Her father stared at the button for a moment. “I lost it on the bridge during the parade. The bastard was right there, and I didn’t see him.” He clamped his hand on her arm. “Tell me everything. Now.”

  Audrey was halfway through her recitation when a sudden silence fell. A little voice piped up, “Her! She hid me from the bad men.”

  Audrey’s father bowed deeply. Audrey curtsied and bowed her head before the queen and prince, intensely conscious of her dishevelment.

  “This is your daughter, Lord Harding?” the queen asked. Her voice was surprisingly low and mellow.

  “Yes. This is Audrey.”

  Dazed, Audrey straightened up.

  The queen looked imposing up close—until suddenly her lip quivered. “Lady Audrey, you saved Prince Hans. You have Our gratitude.”

  “It was nothing,” Audrey stammered. “Prince Hans helped. He Called Sirocco so that we could both breathe.”

  “It was not nothing.” The queen squeezed Audrey’s hand with her white-gloved fingers. “You will call on me later to discuss a suitable reward, but first I need to hear of the attack. You told the guard that the sedative came from a device. Can you describe it?”

  “It’s round and brass and hangs from the ceiling. Earlier it created snowflakes for the children.”

  The queen paled.

  Her father’s expression turned to fierce triumph. “The arrogance! He’ll pay for that!” He looked to the queen. “With your permission?”

  “Yes. Arrest him.” Two red flags of anger burned in her cheeks.

  “Who?” Audrey asked, but her father was already striding away, like a falcon stooping to strike. Two guardsmen flanked him. Whispers followed in his wake as the news was repeated through the crowd.

  Surprisingly, the queen answered, body stiff with anger. “The Snowflake Device was a present from the Siparese ambassador.”