The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun)

by Shami Stovall

  The couple pointed to the luggage car. Blick and Victory packed away each trunk without incident before the attendant could return. The woman thanked Blick with a hug and a peck on the cheek. The man gave Victory a firm shake of the hand. Together the couple entered the train with the other hundreds of citizens looking to get to the coast.

  “Excuse me, sirs,” the attendant said as he exited the office. “Please accept these front car tickets as an apology. Decauville Railways appreciates your sacrifice.”

  Geist observed the entire exchange without getting involved, curious to see how it would play out. Battery, who had given the incident fleeting, disgusted glances, rolled his eyes.

  “Did you see that?” he asked with a snort.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Clever.”

  “Clever? Ha! You wouldn’t say a man cheating at poker was clever. You’d call him for what he was. And my brother’s no better. He cheats at life. It gets insufferable at times.”

  “Is that so?”

  “How do you ever know if he’s being genuine?” Battery asked, indignant. He crossed his arms tight over his chest. “Maybe he’s only doing and saying things because he knows it’s the best course of action for dealing with you. You never know.”

  Geist didn’t know how she felt.

  Victory and Blick returned to Geist’s side, Blick flashing the tickets with a confident smile. He handed them over and patted Geist on the arm, splotching oil onto her coat.

  “I’m impressed,” Geist said, rubbing her arm. “But why not use that magic to win the war?”

  “That’s what I’m doing,” Victory said with chuckle.

  She smirked. “I mean, why don’t you tell us how this operation will turn out?”

  “It just doesn’t work that way. I can’t see that far.”

  “How far can you see?”

  Victory glanced around. “Imagine it like your own sight. Things up close are clear and obvious. Asking me to see the end of the war is like asking me to read a street sign in the next city over.” He motioned down the train tracks to the distant wispy shadows of a town stationed on the horizon. “Everything is all too blurry. Besides, the future isn’t written in stone. The more possibilities there are, the harder it is to concentrate on just one outcome.”

  “Interesting,” Geist murmured.

  Battery rolled his eyes but remained silent.

  “Where are our foreign teammates?” Blick asked, panning his gaze over the crowded station. “The train is half full already.”

  Sure enough, when Geist returned her attention to the station she took note of the many passengers cramming themselves into the cars. The back cars were already jam-packed—no seats, no boxes, no wasted space—while the front cars accommodated wealthier travelers with tables, cushions, and fine china. The hospital car, separating the low class from the high, sat in the middle.

  Geist spotted Vergess and Dreamer by the weighing scales, a short distance from the train doors and only a hundred feet from her position. “What do you mean, foreign teammates?” she asked, careful to keep her voice down so that Vergess and Dreamer wouldn’t hear. “Are you saying that because Dreamer is an Arab?”

  Blick lifted an eyebrow. “And because Vergess is German.”

  “Enough,” Geist stated. “I’m sick of you bringing this up.”

  “Why? It’s true.”

  “Listen: as my first order as team leader, I say we drop this nonsense about Vergess. Mentioning it only breeds distrust, and I won’t have it. He’s American now. End of story.”

  “Don’t you want to know more about his past in Germany?” Victory asked.

  Geist straightened her posture and stole a quick glance at Vergess. His blue eyes were set on the scales as he helped Dreamer finish the last of his luggage check.

  “What do you know?” she asked.

  “His American name is William Black, but he’s actually a sorcerer from House Richter,” Victory said, his voice low but clear enough to be heard through the clamor of the station. “His German given name is Wilhelm Richter, and he trained with the Kaiser and his guard since age ten.

  “Nine years ago he was a special agent and officer fighting the Serbians under control of Austria-Hungary. He was a death agent. A man sent in to kill enemy sorcerers. He’s killed dozens of Ethereal Squadron soldiers.”

  Blick nodded. “Tell Geist how.”

  Victory took in a deep breath. “He manipulated them. Pretending to defect until he was close enough to kill them. He was even responsible for murdering some of the Black Hand—the Serbian resistance force.”

  “How do you know all this?” Geist asked. The paperwork the commander shared with her had the names of her teammates and information on their past operations, but it didn’t have their life story.

  “Word gets around the elite sorcerer families,” Victory replied. “Most of the European families mingle at the Paris soirées. House Richter comes up more often than you’d believe.”

  Geist held her tongue. She’d attended several such soirées herself with her family. She’d heard the rumors, too, about how House Richter had served the Kaiser faithfully since Germany’s formation. But beyond the rumors, she remained in the dark. Political posturing, social gossip—that was her father’s world, not hers.

  “Still,” Geist countered. “There’s no need for fear-mongering. Major Reese knows all of this too, right?”

  Victory nodded.

  “And I trust Major Reese even more than I trust Vergess. So there’s no need to worry.”

  “Even though he’s a proven turncoat?” Blick asked.

  “Until he does something wrong, I won’t entertain hypotheticals.”

  The train whistled. Geist slung her bag over her shoulder. She had to find a way to bring the team together. She had formed a bond with Battery and Vergess on their last mission, and she was determined to treat them like she would treat her old teammates.

  Walking over to the train car, Geist handed over the six tickets. The attendant waved her and the others aboard.

  The commander said to rely on others when my own skills didn’t meet the task…

  Geist held Victory back, right at the edge of the train car door. He waited, allowing everyone else to get on before they spoke.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “We can’t have tension on the team,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Fix it.”

  Victory offered her a one-sided smile. “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We’re out on the field, you know. If you don’t think you can handle this, I can take over. We don’t need the commander’s approval.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Perhaps you should try some good ol’ fashion conversations if you want the men to trust each other.”

  Geist nodded. “Yeah. All right.”

  The whistle screeched a second time as Victory pulled himself up into the train car. He hesitated at the threshold, however, and glanced back at Geist with a distant gaze. “But Blick isn’t entirely wrong,” he murmured. The cold chill of magic followed his words, sending shivers down Geist’s spine. “There are futures where some of our teammates might not be reliable.”

  She wanted to ask more questions, but the attendant snapped a crop against the metal plating of the train. His yell echoed throughout the platform:

  “All aboard!”

  Geist hurried up into the train, catching up with the rest of her team as the door snapped shut behind her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CAMARADERIE

  THE LUXURY CAR’S PLUSH LOUNGE area was worlds away from the high-capacity coach cars at the other end of the train. Padded recliner chairs and tables lined the wall of the car with an open walkway down the middle. In between high-class cars were washrooms and what had once been diner cars.

  “We’re sorry for the inconvenience,” the attendant said as he made his rounds. “But to help with wartime efforts, all diner cars are acting as storage and trans
port for the military.”

  The clack of the train wheels over the steel rails rang out a consistent ka-kak rhythm. The incessant noise was muffled by the thick polished redwood walls and deep green carpeting. Geist relaxed in her reclining chair, amused by the heavy curtains tied at the side of the train car windows. The posh and gaudy design reminded her of home.

  They had a car all to themselves. The car behind them was full of socialite women—debutantes, the lot of them. Although Geist could steal glances of them through the windows of the cars, sound didn’t penetrate. Instead, she focused on her team and Victory’s advice.

  Get them talking.

  Victory and Blick shared small talk over a local newspaper. Battery stayed close, absorbed in organizing and reorganizing his rucksack. Dreamer and Vergess sat on the opposite side of the car, dead silent.

  Even though discussing strategy had been the original excuse for acquiring the first-class car, there wasn’t much to discuss. Even Victory’s future sight couldn’t help them until they got closer to the OHL—and until then, they were flying blind.

  “We have eight hours until we reach Le Havre,” Geist said. “Let’s use our time wisely.”

  The others turned to her.

  Blick smiled. “I know exactly what you’re trying say.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “We need to discuss our experience with the ladies.”

  “Wait, what?” Geist asked. “We don’t need to discuss women.” Anything but that. “But I was going to suggest we get to know each other a little more by—”

  “Nothing is more revealing than how you handle yourself with the fairer sex,” Blick interjected with a snap of his fingers. “As veteran soldiers, it’s our sworn duty to teach new recruits how.” Blick raised an eyebrow and swirled an imaginary wine glass, speaking with all the class and sophistication he could muster.

  For fuck’s sake, Geist thought as she held back a roll of her eyes. He takes things just as seriously as Tinker does.

  “Just ignore him,” Battery said as he closed rucksack. “He’s got to stop eventually.”

  Without warning, Blick wrapped an arm around his little brother and pulled him close. “You went into combat. You’re a man now. You heard Commander Geist. We need to use our time wisely.”

  “Listen, that’s really not what I meant,” Geist said as held up a hand. “I was trying to say that we should—”

  “We may never get another moment like this,” Blick said.

  His sudden shift to a serious tone stopped Geist cold and drew the attention of the others.

  “You never know in combat,” he continued. “Any of us could be next. If we don’t seize these moments to enjoy ourselves, when will we?”

  The question left everyone speechless. Geist didn’t care to dwell on mortality, especially not after losing her teammates. The others shifted positions in their seats as well, casting quick glances to one another as though trying to find the right words.

  But before Victory could say something divined through his sorcery, Blick’s smile returned.

  “Which is why now is the perfect time for Battery to learn how to talk to women!” Blick squeezed his arm around his little brother.

  Geist ran an open palm over her face, hiding her smile, amused by how fast Blick could change from serious to preposterous. Then her mirth faded. Out of all the conversations he could’ve picked…

  Growing red and frustrated, Battery remained silent. Blick either didn’t notice or didn’t care; he held his brother closer than ever. Battery appeared tiny when next to his burly brother, more so than with others. He fit under Blick’s arm, disappearing into the crook of his arm.

  Dreamer chuckled. “Englishmen are a delight.”

  “I want no part of this,” Vergess drawled.

  Blick leaned back in the chair. “We should start by each of us recounting the tale of our first kiss.” Blick spoke again with the same faux sophistication as earlier. I shall begin.” He closed his eyes and exhaled. “It was a beautiful summer day in Derbyshire.”

  Victory chuckled and cocked an eyebrow. “That’s the story you’re going to tell him?”

  “Hush,” Blick snapped. “It’s my story.”

  “All right, then. Fine. Continue.”

  “It was a beautiful day in Derbyshire. Me and my academy chums were talking around the trees. A few girls walked by. Pretty, too. Their hair glittered when it caught the light. I called one over, and we got to talkin’, of course. She had a foreign accent. French, I think. Something musical-sounding. I stole a kiss and she laughed. So then we did it again.”

  Battery, red from his chin to ears, gritted his teeth and remained silent. His brother wasn’t even looking at him.

  “Tell them how old you were,” Victory said.

  “Well, ten, of course,” Blick replied. “Still in academy. What’s that matter?”

  Victory smiled and shook his head. “And then father took it out on your hide for showing improper manners to a sorcerer from House Brittany. To this day, they refuse to intermarry because of Blick’s bad manners. It was a scandal.”

  Blick shrugged. “But it was worth it. She had lips like velvet.”

  “Exactly how does this story help Battery?” Geist quipped. “Or are you just boasting?”

  Battery pushed his brother away. “Geist is right. Besides, it only counts when you’re grown. Nobody’s going to be impressed by a schoolyard peck.”

  “Oh, I’ve had a few since I was grown. Do you want those tales as well?”

  “O-of course not!” Battery scooted away. “I thought this was a terrible idea to start.”

  “Have you kissed a girl at all?”

  “Never,” Battery said flatly. “Are you happy?”

  “Hardly,” Victory said. “Not after Blick’s stunt. Father made sure you stayed in your boys-only academy.”

  Battery nodded. “And father and grandfather never got mad at you for anything, of course.”

  “That’s not fair. They scolded me plenty.”

  “For flirting?”

  Victory shook his head, a slight smile about him. “No. But nothing ever serious came of anything until I met Cross. She has an old soul and wisdom beyond her years. I’ll never forget our first moments together...”

  His tone and distant gaze got his brothers chortling. Geist couldn’t help but smile. Cross adored him, and it seemed apparent that he felt the same. Yet they couldn’t be together, for duty meant more to them than personal happiness. Life can be cruel.

  Battery turned to Geist, his brow furrowed. “How do you get along with women, Geist? Everyone says you’re a lady-killer, but you’re small, just like me. I never get a second glance from a woman, even when I’m in uniform.”

  Victory set his newspaper down in his lap. “Accounts of Geist’s accomplishments are greatly exaggerated.”

  “Oh, I know a thing or two about women,” Geist said, waving airily. I can give Battery some advice, if that’s what he wants. I am an actual woman, after all.

  “Big talk!” Blick said, punching Geist in the arm. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s hear it. First woman you ever kissed.”

  Although Vergess had been sitting on the far side of the car, he slid over to another seat, inching closer and barely concealing a smirk. Geist couldn’t believe she’d dug herself into such a hole. Her face flushed—this would take delicate phrasing.

  What have I done? Should I tell them about my first kiss? If I avoid the details, they’ll never guess I was the one getting kissed…

  “It was… after my father announced my engagement,” Geist muttered, turning her gaze to the floor. She could picture the entire event in her head—the anxiety, the trepidation of meeting a man she would supposedly spend the rest of her life with.

  “Your family let you meet your future wife?” Blick asked. “My father didn’t meet my mother until three years after their engagement. And it was the day of their wedding.”

  “Well, s-she
is… a member of a Royal House.”

  Just muttering the term got everyone in the train car on the edge of their seat. Most magical families maintained long lineages to safeguard their sorceries, but sorcerers from Royal Houses had sorcery far more potent than anyone else’s. Marrying someone from a Royal House was front page news.

  “Who?” Battery asked, breathless. “And how? Since when did House Weston have the clout to marry someone from a Royal House? Ah! Was it a crown princess from the Royal House of Romanov? I hear they have so many.”

  “I’d rather not say,” Geist said, hoping the other men would fill in the details themselves. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I broke off the engagement when I—well, when I went to war.”

  Geist rubbed the back of her neck while she recalled the event.

  “My betrothed introduced herself,” she muttered. “And we spoke for a short bit. Then, she… ah, she kissed me.”

  The others waited for a long moment.

  Blick scooted to the edge of his seat. “She kissed you? She’s a daring one. Knows what she wants.”

  Geist nodded, trying not to shudder. Leopold—that had been his name, but he had insisted she call him Prince.

  Like she wasn’t even good enough to speak his name.

  “Did she swoon?” Battery asked.

  “No,” Geist replied. “She was satisfied, told my father I would suffice, and left.”

  “Not very romantic.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  Blick shrugged. “She sounds like a dynamo.” Before the conversation could lull, he glanced over at Dreamer. “Your turn! You’ve had a dopey smile on your face the entire time.”

  Dreamer turned a page to his novel, Le Fantôme de l’Opéra. He didn’t glance up when he replied. “When I was born, my mother kissed me several times, I’m sure.”

  “That doesn’t count,” Blick said in exasperation. He threw a cushion and missed Dreamer entirely.

  Dreamer never flinched. He turned another page of book and continued to grin. “Outside of family, I have not had the delight of a woman’s company, nor have I sought it.”

  “There you go, Battery,” Blick said. “Someone else on the team hasn’t kissed a woman either.”