Sideburns and the second boyo exchanged uncertain glances, but Broken Nose just grinned. “Admiral Hardbottom’s gal? We meet again. This is what I call a lucky coincidence. The boyos and me have some unfinished business with you.” His tone was jovial.
Audrey repressed a shudder. She trained the barrel on his chest.
Piers frowned. “What does Pinko want with her? The Admiral will chew him up and spit him out.”
“First off, the Admiral will never know, unless you tell him, which you won’t if you value your skin, Jack, m’boy. Second, this is a side job, off the books. Which you also won’t be talking about.” He rolled up his sleeves, exposing hairy forearms, and strolled forward.
The blunderbuss was growing heavy in Audrey’s hands. Throat dry, she used her left hand to support her trembling right wrist.
“Pinko won’t like you doing side jobs,” Piers warned. “He thinks they’re disloyal. How much are you being paid?”
“Hoping for a share?” Broken Nose taunted. “Fergit it. And it’s none o’ your business who’s paying me. Scat, or get beat, boy.”
Piers shook his head.
“Now, lads!” Broken Nose raised his arm in the air and charged.
Audrey fired. She missed Broken Nose, but hit the second boyo. The bullet slammed into his shoulder, half-spinning him around. He fell against Broken Nose, knocking them both down.
“Get her!” roared Broken Nose, staggering back to his feet.
The wounded boyo stayed down, cursing and holding a hand to his wound. Red Sideburns threw himself forward now that the weapon was spent.
“Come on!” Piers pulled on her arm.
Audrey dropped the now useless blunderbuss and ran. Her fashionable boot heels clattered on the flagged pathway.
“This way!” He dragged her into a narrow alleyway that plunged downhill. “We can lose them in the fog below!”
Audrey held tight to his hand, hiked up her skirts, and ran for her life.
“Hold your breath!” Together, they plunged into the fog bank.
Cold, wet droplets misted against her face. She tried to hold her breath, but her chest was heaving from the exercise, and she was soon gasping. The fog stung her sinuses. She coughed and slowed.
Piers tucked them around the corner of a building. He murmured something, and a breeze came at his Call and swirled the poisonous fog away from their lungs.
Another time, Audrey would have asked him about it—it was unusual for a merchant family to have long-winded ability—but right now, she was too grateful to care.
“Did we lose them?” she whispered.
Shouting voices, eerily muffled in the fog, answered her question. The bullyboys hadn’t given up yet.
“Any idea why they want you?” Piers asked.
She shook her head. “Ransom?” Then a more chilling thought occurred to her. “Maybe as a hostage to influence my father’s behavior.”
“Ah. That would explain the timing,” Piers whispered.
Her father was the Admiral of the Fleet. Control him, change the course of the war. She shivered. At least an enemy agent might think that. Audrey knew better. Her father would never dishonor the Harding name. He would choose duty over her safety, then vow bloody vengeance over her corpse afterward.
She had to stay free and get back home on her own.
Mistaking her shiver, Piers put an arm around her. Audrey stood stiffly. He was helping her, but she hadn’t forgotten that he knew the bullyboys—and that they knew him by a different name. How was he involved in this?
“Come now, Jack,” Broken Nose cajoled from somewhere in front of them. “I didn’t mean it when I said I wouldn’t share. I’ll give you 10 percent—no, a full quarter share. Jest give ’er to us. We won’t ’urt ’er or nothing.”
Audrey tensed as his voice came closer with each step he took through the thick fog.
A breeze curled the fog away and revealed Broken Nose standing fifteen feet from them, fortunately, turned away. A gas mask covered the lower half of his face, letting him breathe the poisonous stew.
“It’s a sweet deal, Jack. The Queen o’ Thieves is funding it herself. A big ransom, and we get divvies.”
Piers stiffened. He mouthed, “I’ll be back,” then cat-footed back into the alley, a ghostly shape in the fog. Audrey bit her lip, uneasy at being left alone. Once he was ten feet away from Audrey, he called out, “What’s the queen want with the Admiral’s daughter? Who’s she playing middle to?”
Broken Nose stalked toward Piers, moving silently in the fog. “No middle. I told you, it’s ’er own game, which means more shares for us.”
The fog closed in. Audrey whispered to Zephyr, clearing a space around her head, but she couldn’t see past the house wall.
Piers kept moving while Broken Nose talked. The fog swallowed him up. When he spoke again, he was farther away. Leading Broken Nose away from her, Audrey realized. “Doesn’t sound like the queen. She likes to take a small percent. Says it’s safer that way.”
Audrey frowned. How well did Piers, or Jack, as he was known here, know this Queen of Thieves? It almost sounded as if Piers was a thief, too, just like—
Her mouth fell open in shock. Realization burst over her head like fireworks.
Piers is The Phantom!
Oh, how could she have been so stupid not to have seen it before? It didn’t make sense for Piers to have a secret identity as Jack, but it made perfect sense for The Phantom to have multiple identities so he could move between the gentry and the commoners with ease, scoping out his next theft and pawning what he stole. And hadn’t Zephyr said one of The Phantom’s many names was Jack?
It explained so many things—why the wind had directed Franklin to befriend him, why Grady had seen The Phantom circle back to the Hendersons’ balcony, the coincidence of their meeting first at McNally’s Emporium and today on the road—Zephyr must have told him her whereabouts—and why Piers had been pleased when she said the boy she had feelings for didn’t have a high rank.
Had he guessed she was speaking of The Phantom, that she had tender feelings for him?
Ooh! Her hands clenched. She was going to kill him!
Grinding her teeth, Audrey didn’t notice Red Sideburns glide up on her from behind until he grabbed her shoulder. “Boss! I found her!”
Chapter Fifteen
The Well
Stone World
Leah shrieked as she sank to her knees in the stone. Her hands clawed at the earth—until her mind caught up with her reactions.
Jasper must have heard her signal and was pulling her down to him. Those were his stone hands on her ankles. Unless it was Gerhardt’s collared gargoyle, Rose Granite? It didn’t matter. She’d take her chances with either one over the Elect.
Elect Harmon had backed away in panic, but now he, too, realized what was happening. “Seize her! Don’t let her escape!”
Burt grabbed her under the arms and pulled, but the gargoyle won the tug of war. The stone reached her waist now, a very odd feeling. Her legs weren’t dangling in mid-air, but were encased in muddy stone. She couldn’t move them more than an inch.
Elect Harmon glared at Titus. “Do you want your reward or not? Help him.”
Expression determined, Titus stepped forward.
Leah jammed her hands down against her waist. Once they sank into the stone, she would be safer.
Burt yanked her right hand free, but her left caught. He wrenched at her arm while the gargoyle pulled her down. Pain shot through her like a lightning bolt. Leah screamed, afraid Burt was going to dislocate her shoulder.
Desperate, she spit in his face. He recoiled, and she shoved her hand down. This time, the gargoyle caught it. She was sunk in the stone floor up to her chest now. Her head was at knee level.
Triumphantly, she smiled up at Elect Harmon.
His eyes narrowed. “The traitor’s not leaving here alive. Tie a rope around her neck.”
Burt gaped at him. He held up his hands as if to
show he had no rope.
Snarling, Elect Harmon removed his woven belt.
“No.” Burt backed away. “Do your own killing.”
Leah wriggled her shoulders. “Faster!” she yelled, but she didn’t know if the gargoyle heard her. The stone hands now grasped her hips, pulling.
Elect Harmon looped his belt around her neck and pulled it snug. “Tell the beast to stop, or he’ll kill you.”
But Leah had no breath to tell the gargoyle anything. She snatched a last mouthful of air, and then her head sank into the warm, liquid stone. An air bubble formed over her face, but the rope cinched tight around her neck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t reach her neck to claw the belt free; she was dying—
She had a moment to wonder if her spirit would die here in Dorotea’s body or return to her own, and then everything went black.
Pitch-darkness. Pain in her throat.
“Leah?” Jasper asked anxiously, his deep voice like stones grating together. He lit the candle and held it up, illuminating a small pocket of stone. “Are you well?”
“No,” Leah moaned. She coughed and touched her throat. Her fingertips dislodged some fibers still clinging to her bloody, abraded flesh.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the rope,” Jasper said anxiously.
She patted his hand in mute reassurance. Talking hurt.
“Who did that to you?” There was no mistaking the anger in Jasper’s snarling voice. “I’ll rip him limb from limb.”
Warmth suffused her chest. Jasper reminded her so of Gideon. Her dragon would have vowed vengeance, too. “No need. I’ll recover, and we’re both safe.” At least until Gerhardt and Rose Granite caught up with them. Had they gained any time at all?
“I shouldn’t have let you cross the cavern alone.”
Leah sighed. “I’m a stranger here on this world. I misjudged.” Her words emerged as croaks.
“You must stay close to me after this.” His hand cupped her cheek. His flesh felt hard and smooth, not rough at all. Quarters were very close, and the air between them warmed as they exhaled.
She could almost imagine she was with Gideon; his hot blood had kept his skin deliciously warm. She swayed closer, parting her lips. His head bent toward hers, his golden eyes half-lidded.
Golden, not diamond like Gideon’s.
Leah turned her head away. Fool. Shame washed over her in a red tide. She’d done the same thing with Ryan, Gideon’s Water self: pretended he was her lost love. But an otherself wasn’t the same person. Ryan wasn’t Gideon—he loved Holly, not her. And Jasper was destined to belong to Dorotea.
Even if Dorotea didn’t deserve him.
She cut off the dangerous line of thought and changed the subject. “How close is Rose Granite?” She coughed, the words irritating her throat.
“No more than ten minutes behind,” Jasper said after a pause. “She told me how to reach the dead city. She says the stone around it is very crumbly and bad for tunneling but that there’s a way up on foot. Once we leave the stone, we’ll be harder to track.”
“Then let’s go,” Leah croaked.
“Put your hands on my shoulder so we don’t become separated.”
Once she complied, he blew out the candle, and they tunneled through the stone.
Leah ought to have been worried about Rose Granite and Qeturah and what to expect Above. But nowadays, danger only wearied her. Instead, her mind kept returning to the moment of their almost-kiss.
“Here.” They stumbled out of a wall and into a shaft of weak sunlight.
Leah looked around, her mouth falling open. After sorting out the images, she concluded that they stood at the bottom of a great well. What must once have been a large lake but was now little more than a pond lay to their left, water gleaming black in the scant light.
In a muddy puddle sat an iron bucket large enough for Leah to climb inside. A loop of thick chain connected it to nine more buckets stretching up and up to the square of sunlight above. Four buckets were on their way up, and five eternally descended. A ring of six tall pillars supported the roof above.
She would venture to guess that the buckets had once dipped into a deep lake and hauled up water, back when the dead city still flourished. Only, they’d drained the lake, and the people had been forced to follow the source of the water underground.
Leah studied the bucket brigade doubtfully. The metal links in the chain were as thick as her arms. “The links might be climbable, but it’s a really long way up.” And how old was the chain? Was it safe? Would the links hold?
“I’ll haul you up in the bucket,” Jasper said.
Leah didn’t like that idea. “No. There should be steps somewhere.” She paused to cough, then continued hoarsely: “Dorotea remembers climbing an endless spiral staircase.”
“We’re running out of time,” Jasper said grimly, but he agreed to search for the stairs. Leah headed toward the bucket brigade. Maybe there was something behind it.
…
Fire World
A low rumbling from outside drew Dorotea to the hole in the wall. She watched as burning orange lava painted bright lines down Thunderhead’s cone.
The Volcano Lord was grieving the death of his son.
Tears clogged her throat, and Dorotea was hard-pressed not to bawl her eyes out again. You’re being ridiculous. None of that happened to you. But when she remembered Gideon’s diamond dragon eyes closing, her chest ached.
It was so wrong. So unfair.
She started to pace, but after a few circuits around the chamber, the Four Worlds mirror caught her eye. She stood in front of it. According to Leah’s memories, Dorotea was from Stone world, which was represented by the gold mirror.
Tentatively, she placed her hand on the flat surface and attempted to Call her otherself. “Leah? Are you there?”
(Dorotea?) Leah sounded wary.
Dorotea could see her in the wavery gold now, though Leah didn’t meet her eyes. Her body looked well enough, perhaps a little disheveled, but the gargoyle obviously hadn’t killed her.
She wanted her body back. Her breath caught at the intensity of the need. How to persuade Leah? Tell the truth. “I’ve seen your memories, how Gideon died. I don’t know if Qeturah’s been working to agitate the Goddess or if she caused the blackout somehow, but I want to help stop her. We’re on the same side; we both want to save Stone World.” She bit her lip, stopping short of begging to have her body back. She didn’t belong here in this terrible ash-choked world Above.
(What about Jasper?) Leah asked, unconvinced. (I won’t give you your body back until I know you won’t hurt him again.)
“Who’s Jasper?” Dorotea asked, confused.
Leah sighed. (the gargoyle, of course. and I’ll warn you right now: I took off his collar, and he melted it down. you’ll never control him that way again.)
What? “You took off his collar? And he didn’t kill you? My body is safe?” Did that mean Leah was still with him? The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
(he didn’t kill anyone.) Leah sounded disgusted. (you’re in danger from your own people, the Elect, not from Jasper.)
“You’re wrong,” Dorotea said with conviction. “He tried to choke me just before you took over.”
(no, he didn’t.)
“How would you know? You weren’t there!” Dorotea snapped.
(Jasper wouldn’t do that. what reason would he have? if he killed you, the collar would have tortured him for eternity.)
That was true.
Her mind was seeded with sudden doubt. He had been trying to kill her, hadn’t he? The memory was all mixed up with the dream she’d been having. “Wait a moment. Let me think.” She rubbed her head. “I was having a nightmare about my father being murdered by gargoyles,” she confessed. “When I woke up, the gargoyle was looming over me, shaking me.” Had his hands been on her neck or only her shoulders? “Maybe…maybe he wasn’t trying to kill me. Maybe I overreacted.”
(overreacted? you tol
d him to die, and when he couldn’t comply, the collar tortured him.)
Leah started to draw away.
“Wait!” Dorotea said desperately. “I am sorry, truly I am. I don’t even remember commanding the gargoyle to die. I was in a panic, not thinking. I mean, if he’d died, I would have been trapped in the cavern forever. And he may be innocent, but he did threaten me earlier, you know. I had reason to fear him.”
Leah cautiously came closer again. (your memories do bear that out. I’ll absolve you of attempted murder, but it still doesn’t excuse your earlier behavior. you enslaved and hurt him.)
Before all this started Dorotea would have said that gargoyles were made of stone and couldn’t be hurt, but she knew now that wasn’t true. She winced. “I didn’t have a choice. Gargoyles and humans are enemies. I couldn’t risk him hurting someone.”
Leah stiffened and forgot herself enough to glare at Dorotea. (as long as you keep thinking of him as a violent beast, I’ll never let you have your body back.)
Dorotea reeled back as if she’d been slapped. “Gargoyles aren’t innocent,” she said hotly. “They killed my father.”
(they? don’t you mean one of them? some humans are murderers, too. does that make all humans beasts?)
Doubt niggled at Dorotea’s brain. In the old tales, gargoyles had been friends with Stone Hearts—one didn’t befriend a monster. The gargoyle—Jasper—had been clever and sarcastic. He’d helped her escape from the Cathedral, and he’d surprised her several times, like when he’d said he was sorry about her sister. “You’re right. I shouldn’t judge him as a murderer, too. I mean, he was only a child during the gargoyle rebellion.”
(very magnanimous of you,) Leah said dryly.
“I bear the gargoyle—Jasper,” she corrected herself, “no ill will. He has his freedom now; isn’t that enough? I just want my body back, so I can return to my mother and sister.” She’d beg and plead if need be.
(I don’t know if that will be safe.)
“That’s my decision,” Dorotea said firmly. She had no doubt that Leah was right, and Gerhardt and the Elect were hunting her now, but it didn’t change anything. She needed to return to Marta. At the very least, she needed to say good-bye. “Please.”
Amid Wind and Stone Page 20
