by Pelaam
“I hope he doesn’t give you any trouble.” Midnight nodded toward the door from where Tresilian emerged.
“Don’t worry, Midnight.” George flashed him a quick grin. “He’s mostly bluster. But I’ll send him back up to you if he won’t settle down here.”
“I doubt he’ll dare.” Tresilian chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past Voltaire to lay him out again if he starts playing up.”
Back on the main deck, Midnight focused on reducing the air in the balloons in a slow, steady manner so that the ship didn’t tilt. While he was preoccupied with the balloons, Voltaire and Tresilian constantly ran around the ship, ensuring it wasn’t going to strike the inside of the crater.
But it seemed to Midnight that the volcano was far wider than even Voltaire had expected. The rock came close on occasion, but never enough to impede the ship’s slow descent.
“Ah, as a matter of interest, the ship is waterproof, isn’t it?” Voltaire’s voice floated over from where he peered through his goggles over the ship’s rail.
He hadn’t addressed anyone in particular, but when Midnight saw that Aurora was still sitting, arms folded, refusing to be a part of what was happening, Midnight thought it best to respond to the query himself.
“Yes, she is.” Midnight smiled in Voltaire’s direction, although the other man seemed enrapt at what he was looking at. “Since we generally travel over water, we thought it a sensible precaution to ensure the ship would be fully functional on water. The Freedom can be detached from her balloons and sail perfectly well.”
“Excellent. Excellent.” Voltaire waved a hand without looking up and remained where he was.
With a shake of his head, Midnight resumed monitoring the gradual descent, until an imposing figure blocked out his vision. Dryden stood glowering down at him.
How dare you take the side of these…these pirates. It’s up to you and your sister to keep us safe. I insist you reflate these balloons and get us out of here this instant.”
“You were quite happy when the flight for you and Miss Dru was paid for by these pirates.” Midnight fired straight back, forcing the bigger man to backpedal a couple of steps. “In fact, you didn’t hesitate to take their money. I say that something of such importance to the British Empire and the safety of the world is worth fighting for, and Miss Dru agrees, too.”
“I thought him mad then and I think he’s mad now.” Dryden snorted loudly, and stretched to his full height, towering several inches over Midnight. “But my opinion didn’t seem to count for much.”
“And it still doesn’t.” Tresilian’s voice boomed out. “I suggest you leave Midnight to continue with the excellent job he’s doing. Otherwise, it’ll be me you’ll be dealing with. And I don’t have Midnight’s patience in dealing with overbearing, arrogant fools.”
“Pirates and brigands.” Dryden sniffed loudly. “Probably maroon us all once we’re down there and can’t get out.” However, he moved away from Midnight, who cast a grateful glance in Tresilian’s direction.
The man’s wide smile warmed Midnight in ways he didn’t think possible and he quickly turned his focus back to the balloons.
“I say, I’ve spotted a cavern down here.” Voltaire called out, seemingly oblivious to the interaction on the deck. “We should be passing its roof in a moment. If my guess is correct, we should be able to sail inside, most likely it’ll prove high enough even with the balloons still partially inflated. Can you steer her in that way, Midnight?”
“Yes, I can do that. I’ll leave the balloons as they are. That keeps them high enough not to interfere with the ship, but without sufficient inertium to keep Freedom airborne.”
“You’ll need me, brother mine.” Aurora stood up. “Mr Brewer, I suggest you sit down, or I’ll have you go below deck.”
“You can’t—” Dryden started to splutter an objection, but it was clear from her icy glare that Aurora wasn’t interested in listening.
“I, sir, am the captain of this ship. I most certainly can. And I will if you continue in that manner.”
“Very well. Captain.” Dryden almost spat the title, but Aurora was already turning away to take her place on the bridge.
“Please take the wheel, Midnight, and be ready to act on my orders.” Aurora settled her goggles in place and stood, hands clasped behind her back as she gazed into the immense cavern.
“Aye, Captain.” Midnight took his place, holding the ship steady as she slowly moved forward.
Initially, the cavern seemed to be nothing more than inky darkness, and the torches they’d set at the prow illuminated very little ahead of the ship. Then green and blue phosphorous on the cavern’s high ceiling and the distant rocky walls became increasingly abundant.
It provided an eerie, Dantean illumination that made Midnight wish for the clean light of the surface. However, it also enabled him to navigate around stalagmites and stalactites that combined to create a watery obstacle course through which he had to sail. I wouldn’t be surprised if we passed Charon ferrying his latest boatload.
There was a constant sound of water against the side of the ship, but Midnight peered around at a different noise.
“Did you hear that?” Voltaire’s voice sounded odd as it echoed around the cavern.
The eerie splashing sound inexplicably made Midnight’s blood ran cold.
“What? Wait, there’s something this side, Voltaire.” Tresilian’s voice came from the other side of the ship and Midnight wondered what they could have heard.
There was a sudden slapping sound on the side of the ship, followed by a strange kind of slithering noise. Midnight looked left and right, unable to decide the direction it came from. A prickling sensation crept across his skull, his heart hammered against his chest, and every inch of his skin broke out in gooseflesh. Something is there, close by. Very likely something deadly that’s crawled up from the pits of Hades.
A thick tentacle slammed on the deck close by him and Midnight yelled out.
“Hold on, Midnight.” Tresilian’s voice rang out and Midnight caught a glimpse of the other man barrelling toward him.
“What is it, Midnight?” Aurora yelled.
“Tentacle—” Midnight’s reply was cut off in a cry of terror as the tentacle moved with unearthly speed to wrap around his ankle, then started dragging him toward the edge of the ship.
Chapter 7
Pain shot through Midnight’s ankle as if he’d been pricked with a dozen needles. He grabbed frantically at the base of the wheel as he was pulled toward the ship’s rail. But the wood and copper were slippery, and the creature continued dragging him relentlessly.
“Hang on, Midnight. I’m coming.” Tresilian’s booming voice rang out.
“I can’t hold on.” Midnight yelled back, his grip failing. A pair of stout brown boots filled Midnight’s skewed vision, something bright glinted, and he the way Tresilian’s hand moved as he hacked at the tentacle until it relinquished its grip.
Then the pressure on his ankle was gone. Glancing down his body, Midnight saw that Tresilian had severed the tentacle with a lethal-looking sword.
“Midnight. Get us away from here.” Aurora shouted. “Miss Dru, Mr Brewer, get below deck, immediately.”
“Can you manage?” Tresilian asked and Midnight nodded, accepting the strong hand as Tresilian helped him to his feet. “Are you all right, Midnight? Can you stand unaided?”
“Yes, yes I’m fine. I need to guide the ship, or we’ll hit something.” Midnight didn’t hesitate with the lie. His ankle throbbed, but with Voltaire firing his pistol and Aurora using a boot hook against the beast, they needed Tresilian more than he did, and his job was to steer them away from the monster. “Go, help the others.”
From the expression on Tresilian’s face, the other man wasn’t entirely convinced by Midnight’s assurance, but with a curt nod, he waded back into the fight, slashing fiercely at the flailing tentacles, sending the creature’s blue blood splattering across the deck.
The
beast reacted to the assault by slamming the ship with more force. Already soaked to the skin, Midnight endured another deluge of water cascading over him as he held desperately to the wheel. He steered the ship away from a cluster of sharp stalactites, but pain crawled relentlessly up his leg, and a sudden chill racked his body.
More tentacles hovered over the ship. A bright light flashed ahead of them, temporarily blinding Midnight. Then something solid slammed heavily into the side of his skull and his world turned black.
* * * *
“Midnight!” Aurora screamed her brother’s name, but it was too late. A tentacle swung across the deck, clipping Midnight’s head and he crumpled to the deck.
“I’ll get him.” Tresilian dashed past her.
“Take him below where it’s safer. Ask Miss Dru to watch over him. You bastard of a beast.” Fury boiled in Aurora’s veins and she stabbed viciously at the tentacle battling her. The tentacle retreated, and Aurora shoved sodden strands of hair away from her face, readying to tackle the next attack.
The ship lurched again, and Aurora lost her footing in the mix of seawater and bloody gore. A scream escaped her as she slid along the deck.
“Aurora, your hand.” At Voltaire’s yell, Aurora stretched out for it to be clasped firmly in one hand as Voltaire held tightly to the ship’s main mast with the other. “I have you.”
“Thank you.” Aurora gasped out. She fended off a tentacle with her boat hook as Voltaire dragged her toward him to wrap her in a strong embrace.
“I don’t understand it,” he murmured.
“Understand what?” Aurora asked. “Why a monster is mindlessly attacking us?”
“That’s just it. Don’t you see?” There was a childish excitement in his voice. “It isn’t mindless. It’s keeping us pinned down, and the ship is being moved sideways. Always sideways.”
“Have you not considered it may have a lair there?” Aurora demanded; her tone as acerbic as she could make. “You know. Tuck us away later for leisurely consumption.”
“Well, possibly.” Some of the enthusiasm had drained from Voltaire’s tone. Then it perked up again. “But I think you’re wrong. Haven’t you noticed that since those flashes began, our engines stopped?”
Another bright flash of light illuminated the cavern, forcing Aurora to seek refuge against Voltaire’s shoulder. When she could next see, the tentacles were withdrawing, and a female voice called out.
“Hello? Is there anyone on board?”
“Hello, yes, we’re here.” Voltaire replied before Aurora could gather her wits, but she quickly got to her feet, acutely aware of her bedraggled appearance.
That awareness was amplified when the woman herself came into view. Aurora stared. The woman’s dress, if it could be called such, only reached to her knees, the golden material cinched at the waist by a leather belt from which hung a long, sickle-shaped sword.
Instead of hair, beads hung from a headpiece tight against her skull, most likely a wig. A large, ornate pendant hung around her neck, which to Aurora’s eyes was a ridiculous adornment for someone who appeared to be a soldier. Two men flanked her, wearing similar tunics and headpieces, and holding crescent-shaped battle axes.
“You must hurry. The polypus will only retreat for a short while. Come aboard our boat, I’ll send reinforcements to try and recover your craft after we get you safe.” The woman’s English was heavily accented, although Aurora couldn’t work out where it was from.
“There are others. Below deck.” Aurora pointed and the woman hissed.
“Then get them. We must be quick.” The woman gestured into the darkness. “It will return.”
“You go, Aurora, I’ll stay here.” Voltaire gave Aurora a firm shove and she turned to glower at him.
“Yes, all right.” Aurora banked her anger at having been pushed, even if it was probably better for Voltaire to remain on deck.
At a run, she then slid down the stairs and hurried to where the others waited, their expressions reflecting fear and anxiety. She looked at Midnight who was bundled in blankets where a worried Tresilian hovered over him.
“Is he all right?” she asked, even though she knew it was a foolish question, and Tresilian shook his head.
“It’s not the blow he took. He has some kind of…of fever. He shivers even though he’s burning up, and there’s a rash developing where that creature grabbed his leg.” Tresilian looked directly into Aurora’s eyes. “He needs medical help. Quickly.”
“We’re being rescued. Will you carry my brother?” Aurora waved a hand in a vague gesture, exhaustion warring to take control of her now the immediate danger was past. Then she scrubbed it across her face.
“Of course.” Tresilian scooped Midnight into his arms and Aurora nodded her thanks.
“Lead everyone out. Quickly. I’ll join you in a moment.” Aurora hurried down to the engine room where the automatons had frozen in place. Something stopped them dead. No wonder Midnight couldn’t steer us to safety. We had no power. It seems that Voltaire may have been right about those strange lights. Some kind of inhibitor, perhaps. It’s more Midnight’s field than mine.
There was nothing more she could do. Aurora ran to join everyone on the top deck. As captain, Aurora intended that all her passengers should precede her onto the rescue vessel. When she finally emerged topside, she looked around for Voltaire, then scowled darkly.
Not only was he deep in conversation with the strange, half-naked woman, but also speaking a different language. The way the woman smiled and leaned into Voltaire instantly irritated Aurora and she coughed loudly to catch their attention.
“Voltaire, perhaps you can tell your new friend that my brother is ill. He needs urgent medical attention.”
“Sick.” The woman stepped forward. “Did the polymus sting him?”
“If it has stingers on its tentacles, it did.” Tresilian spoke from somewhere behind Aurora. “It grabbed his ankle and tried to drag him off the ship. He’s got a rash and is feverish.”
“They are symptoms of a sting. We mustn’t delay. Are these all your people?” The woman looked over Aurora’s shoulder.
“We are most certainly not her people. I’m Dryden Brewer and I insist we are taken from here immediately and returned to England.”
With a roll of her eyes, and a deep breath to contain her temper, Aurora turned slowly to face Dryden whose face blanched at her expression.
“Yes,” Aurora spoke through clenched teeth. “There are indeed all of my people. I am captain of this vessel and responsible for their safety.”
“Good, then hurry. Board my boat and we will take you home. Help them.” The woman snapped her order at the men who moved swiftly. One held a ladder that reached to an ornate barge, the kind Aurora had only ever seen in history books. The type that Cleopatra would have felt at home reclining in.
It was all too much to take in. Standing aside, Aurora waited while firstly Tresilian, carrying her unconscious brother, descended onto the barge, then Dru, followed by Dryden, then his servant. Voltaire waited, standing opposite her.
“The captain leaves last, Voltaire.” Aurora indicated for him to precede her.
“As you wish.” Voltaire gave a short bow, then swung over the edge of the ship and vanished from her sight.
Aurora looked around. The woman seemed very interested in her ship and Aurora cleared her throat.
“Excuse me, but as captain of this vessel, I should be last to leave.” Aurora indicated the ladder, but the woman shook her head.
“Attend to your people, Captain. I shall follow. Do hurry. Your brother needs to be tended to quickly.”
Without jeopardizing Midnight’s health, or appearing churlish to a rescuer, Aurora didn’t have much choice but to comply. As she settled herself to clamber over the rail, she caught a glimpse of the woman remove the ornate medallion from its golden chain and hold it over the side of the ship.
As if aware of her scrutiny, the remaining man moved to block Aurora’s view.
Favouring the man with her best look of disdain, Aurora continued down the ladder and onto the barge, settling herself beside Tresilian.
Chapter 8
To Aurora’s surprise, the big man still chose to keep Midnight in his lap rather than lie him on a cushioned bed.
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Tresilian shook his head but didn’t look up at Aurora. “I wish I did. I’m not used to being helpless.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of him. I’m very grateful to you.” Aurora laid a hand on his forearm.
Before Tresilian could reply, the woman joined them, while the men went to the barge’s prow. Aurora glanced around, wondering how just two men could power such a large vessel, since there seemed no means of propulsion.
Then she gasped as four large copper-coloured mechanical seahorses rose from the water in front of the ship’s prow.
“Full speed, we must hurry.” The woman called out her order and the barge jerked forward, quickly building up speed. She smiled at Aurora, displaying teeth beset with small gems. “Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. My name’s Lalia Tia-sitra.”
“Captain Aurora Pendragon.” Aurora extended her hand and it was caught in a strong grip, although the woman’s hand felt bony in hers. “My brother Midnight—” Before she could continue, Dryden stood up and pushed his way to stand in front of Lalia.
“You may remember that I am Mr Dryden Brewer, and we are all under the protection of her Majesty Queen Victoria and are British citizens.”
“I see.” Lalia cocked her head as she regarded him. “I can assure you, Captain Aurora-Pendragon, that we have an exceptionally talented physician who will tend to you brother. And naturally, as honoured guests, you will all be well taken care of.”
“I should think so, too. And returned to England at the very next opportunity.” Dryden nodded.
