The Airship Aurelia (The Aurelian Archives)

by Courtney Grace Powers

  He hadn't gone more than a dozen steps before Reece caught up to him, grabbed him by the cloak, and yanked him around so his back landed with a dull thud against the side of the apothecary.

  “Hayden,” Reece said evenly through his teeth, “I know what you're feeling. But you've got to listen to me. They've already got Scarlet, and if they're listening to us right now, they're not going to let her go. We have to come back for her with the others.”

  “I can't do that,” Hayden moaned, slumping hopelessly.

  He thought Reece was about to put him through the wall as he growled and shook him. “You have to!”

  “I can't. Because I know what the Rippers need that only the Letoians can give them.”

  Reece's face was blank.

  “Prisoners, Reece.”

  XII

  When Cannibals Ain’t the Scariest Thing Around

  Po wasn't one to use strong language. She'd called Gus a sisquick once when she was five, and her da had been so stern with her, she'd never used the word again.

  But she was very near to callin' Leto's offerin'a spare parts bogrosh.

  Lucky for Reece, while kids down the street from the Trimbles had been learnin' to ride their first pushbikes, Gus, Tilden, and Po had been refurbishin' their first engines. With a little elbow grease and some love, the parts would do just fine for the replacement generator-turbine Reece had asked her to make.

  The wagon Po had brought down from the boardin' house bumped at her heels as she pulled it through the scrap district'a Leto City's tumbledown market. It was halfways full'a parts, then filled the rest'a the way with other supplies she knew the ship needed, photon filaments, parchment, ice sparks. Everythin’ she'd bought had been twice as expensive as it should'a been, and that was after bargainin' at her meanest. Still, she thought Reece'd be happy with how far she'd stretched her allowance. And she'd done everythin' else he'd asked—even the stuff that didn't make sense. He said he'd explain later, but…

  With a dreamy sigh, she gave the iron wagon handle a yank and started down a side road she could follow with her eyes all the way back to the foot'a the South Sheet.

  The road to the South Sheet was scored with ankle-deep ruts from carriage wheels that made the walk a hike, and before Po had gone more than two blocks, her bright red boots and the legs'a her jumpsuit were freckled grey. This city made her sad. No rain, yet there was mud, dark as night, but never with stars to show for it. She'd grown up in a farmhouse on the frayed edges'a Caldonia's slums, and maybe this wasn't quite so bad as that, but the people here, they just seemed…aimless. She tried not to look too closely at the dirty faces'a the man and woman sittin' on the stoop'a the old stone inn to her right.

  She tugged the wagon up out of a pothole with effort and gasped when she nearly fell into a man hurryin' in the opposite direction.

  “Sorry!” she apologized. “I wasn't lookin' where I was—” She cut off, flushin', as he stepped up to her again, forcin' her to back against the wagon. His hood was drawn, but she could still make out the sickly pallor’a his bearded face, the desperate wideness'a his eyes, milky from lightnin' blindness.

  “I require your wagon,” he said softly.

  Po blinked. The wagon rolled a few inches backward as she leaned away from him. “Sorry,” she said earnestly, “but you can't have it.”

  When she tried cautiously to edge away, the couple she'd seen sittin' under the inn materialized beside him, scowlin' inside their hoods, their shoulders hunched so she felt like she was cornered by a trio'a giant owls. Her breath caught. All their eyes had the misty sheen Mayor Petric had said came from spendin' too much time above ground, and all their skin was grey-tinged, like they'd been dusted with chalk.

  The girl, whose dark hair was cut jaggedly around her face, said in a low, fierce voice, “He said he requires your wagon.”

  For a second, Po was struck dumb with fear, but then she shook herself and tried to square her shoulders. Somethin’ she'd learned from the slums, and from havin' brothers, for that matter: if you didn't take a stand for yourself early on, you'd never get your footin' back. She did glance back over her shoulder on the off chance Gideon was nearby, though. He'd been with her most'a the day by the cap'n orders, helpin' her assemble the new turbine. It figured he was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

  “There ain't no food,” she said as firmly as she could. Her voice still quivered a little. “It's just a bunch'a spare parts.”

  “Food,” the bearded man repeated hoarsely. Po didn't think his wide eyes had blinked once, or moved at all from where they'd first been lookin'. “They always think we're starving.”

  “Because we are starving! Because they starve us!” the girl hissed. “Hoarders! Gluttonous pigs! I hate them!”

  The man from the inn snapped at the rabid girl, “Stop it, Eppa! You mustn't damage her. She's pretty. Or she sounds pretty, anyways. She is pretty, isn't she?” He paused, blinkin’ his opaque eyes and thinkin' hard. “The pretty ones never taste as good.”

  Decidin' that the wagon was just gonna have to stay put while she wore down the soles'a her little red boots, Po turned to run—and screamed as she crashed right into Gideon's chest and almost fell over backward. Nivy caught her by the arm and straightened her calmly, frownin'. Po had never been so glad to see her friends lookin' so unhappy. Gideon's expression was totally deadpan, but there was lightnin' in his blue eyes.

  Her stomach leaped when Reece slid sideways between Gideon and Nivy's shoulders, eyein’ the three muggers with raised eyebrows. “Raiders, I presume?” he said lightly. Hayden was there too, peerin' over his shoulder and lookin' like he was comin' down with somethin', all hot and bothered.

  Po could see the Raiders weighin' their chances, their eyes cuttin' back and forth between the wagon and the cap'n.

  As the crazy girl, still glarin' at Po like she'd like to carve her down to her bones, opened her mouth, Reece cut her off with a simple, “Start running.” He gave it like an order, and the Raiders obeyed. They reminded Po'a rats as they scampered down the inn's narrow alleyway, their shadows ripplin' jaggedly over the crumblin' rock walls.

  When their footsteps had faded to whispers, Po breathed a heavy sigh and straightened her wobbly knees.

  “Are you alright?” Reece and Gideon asked at the same time, and though she nodded to them both, her eyes were on Reece. She found herself studyin' him like she didn't often let herself do, for fear he'd see her watchin'. There was somethin' about his voice…somethin' to the faraway look in his eyes…like there was a fire boilin' under the surface'a him.

  As she glanced at the others, her heart started to flutter like a bird buildin' up to flight. Nivy looked ready to sprint if someone gave the order, scannin' the flat rooftops on either side'a the street. And Hayden didn't just look ready to sick up. He looked like he might shatter if someone handled him the wrong way. Gideon caught her eye and started to open his mouth before Reece shot him a captainly look.

  “Po,” the cap'n said, “did you do what I asked you to?”

  “I—yes, but…”

  “Listen to me.” Reece peered solemnly into her face, the intensity in his brown eyes stoppin' her word flow. “You need to trust me more than ever right now.”

  “I trust you,” Po inserted quickly.

  “Good.” He drew a deep breath. “Because they're going to come for us now.”

  Chimes suddenly started echoin' all throughout the city, more mechanical than musical. Like someone was bangin' a wrench against a capulator pipe. Then a cool automated voice droned over a sonic transducer, “Citizens are instructed to lock down, citizens are instructed to lock down, citizens…” It looped again and again and again.

  Po gazed around bewilderedly. Hayden still looked a mess, but the others were steady, calm in the way a storm is calm before a snap'a thunder. Her arms lit up with goosebumps as Reece took them and turned her to face him.

  “Po. The Letoians know we know our only way out is to steal the turbine. They've br
ought this on themselves; we don't have a choice. We're taking it.” As he spoke, even though he was lookin' Po in the eye, makin' her knees wobble all over again, she got the feelin' that what he said wasn't meant for her. That he was castin' his words out for someone else to catch. “Your job is to stick with Hayden whatever it takes. And most importantly…” He glanced up and grimaced at somethin' over Po's head, but when she tried to turn and look, he caught her chin and held it firm. “To find Mordecai and have a moot.”

  And that's when the storm broke.

  Soldiers in goggles, flat metal helmets, and hooded cloaks poured outta alleyways on either side'a the road behind Reece, their rifles tucked in their armpits and aimed. Po hadn't worked up the breath to scream before Reece shoved her away from him and yelled, “RUN!”

  Despite all appearances, Hayden must'a had his wits together after all, because he grabbed Po's hand and jerked her into a run that whipped her braid back over her shoulder. There was hardly even time to be afraid. All she was truly awake to was Hayden's sweaty hand cuttin' off her circulation, and the stitch burnin' in her side as they put alley after alley behind them, and the mechanical chimes, her favorite thing in the world turned into somethin' horrible.

  Gunshots sounded. Deep, bass booms that she felt in her chest—rifles—and quick, grainy snaps—hobs.

  Gaspin' for air, Hayden towed her into a portico carved deep into the side of a stone house and collapsed his back against the arched doorframe. Po followed his example, only once she started relaxin', her body tried to fold in on her, and she slid clear down the wall till she was small against the foot'a it.

  “Hayden?” He looked at her through fogged-up lenses, sweat gluin' his hair to his forehead. “Why is this happenin'?”

  “I don't know. I mean, I do,” he panted, “but only parts of it. I think…I think there was a plan…something we were left out on…”

  He told her what he and Scarlet had found out that mornin', about Petric's plan to steal Aurelia and escape the Rippers, about her listenin' in on Po's construction'a the new turbine. The mayor had tricked them into revealin' that the turbine was exactly what Aurelia needed to be sky-ready again.

  “Wait,” she said, leanin' up, “how'd she listen in on us?” Hayden's stricken expression registered what she'd been too afraid to ask aloud. Is she listenin' to us now? “Do you think—”

  Her unexpelled gasp filled her cheeks as Hayden crouched and covered her mouth with his hand. She swallowed, her heartbeat drummin' in her ears. Footsteps on the cobblestone outside the portico. So light, whoever they belonged to had to know she and Hayden were here hidin'.

  Lookin' faint, Hayden grabbed her hand and mouthed, “Come on!”

  Bitin' back a squeal'a panic, Po leaped outta the portico with him, prepared to run until her legs went on without the rest'a her.

  Gideon caught her in one arm, roped his other around Hayden's shoulders, and heaved them back into the dark. He planted their backs against a wide wooden door and held them there with a big hand on each'a their shoulders.

  “Easy,” he warned in a whisper as Po and Hayden together bombarded him with breathless questions. “There are others close.”

  “So tell us what's going on!” Hayden cried, but quietly, his eyes dartin' to the alley. “We can't help unless we know—”

  “It's not knowin' that makes you useful here, Aitch. Besides. They can still hear us. Can't take any risks.” He looked at Po just then, because she had started shiverin' somethin' fierce.

  “How? Can they hear us, I mean?” she asked.

  “Did you take a pill from them this mornin'?”

  Hayden's palm strikin' his forehead mad a soft pat. “The bacterial sterilizer.”

  “Yeah. Not so much that as clever Letoian broadcaster links.” Gideon scowled. “They'll be here soon. Good for another run? You've got a ways still until—”

  “Until what?” Hayden wondered. He sighed when Gideon just looked at him. So long as the mayor was tuned to their frequency, Gideon couldn't give them any more than they already knew. “I can manage.”

  “Me too,” Po said weakly. “For the cap'n, I can manage.” Sniffin', she straightened her shoulders…and it occurred to her…”Oh. I just realized. The Cap'n, what he told me to—”

  “Don't say it out loud,” Gideon snapped, then lifted his hand from her shoulder and tapped her ear pointedly. She nodded, relieved to have at least this much to tell her Reece knew what he was doin'. He had to know what he was doin'. “It's time to move. Po Girl, you first.”

  Noddin', her legs as firm as butter, Po stepped into place at the head'a their line. The false daylight leeks in the alleyway flickered deliberately. Day to night, night to day. She wished tomorrow could come that fast.

  Gideon gave the order suddenly, as Reece had. “Run!”

  Braced for the worst, Po stumbled into a barely-controlled run, turnin' a hard left down the alley. Almost instantly, gut-rumblin' gun blasts dulled her hearin' to a buzz. Then Hayden cried out.

  Her run slowed to a clumsy sideways skip as she twisted and saw him down but strugglin' to get up, thankfully clean'a blood. Three soldiers, their goggles makin' them look more like insects than men, spread out across the width'a the alley, aimin' with their rifles—one gun for each'a Po and her friends. Po launched herself at Hayden just as he managed a triumphant return to his feet and tackled him to the ground as the rifle meant for him fired. A five-inch crater bloomed in the alley wall over her head.

  Roarin' as he tore outta the portico, Gideon yanked his revolver from its holster, whippin' its barrel left to right. The three soldiers dropped to a neat drum roll'a shots, clutchin' side, leg, and shoulder.

  He and Po helped Hayden up between them, but Hayden brushed off their support with a reassurin' smile that quickly morphed into a less-than-reassurin' wince. “It's my bad ankle.”

  “Can you run?” Po asked, scared'a his answer. He bravely nodded, swallowin' dryly.

  Gideon, joggin' to the wounded soldiers at the foot'a the alley, started roughly tuggin' off their goggles and kickin' their rifles away from them. “You'll need these,” he said as he rejoined them and passed out the goggles. He made an exasperated noise at Po tanglin' hopelessly with hers, and takin' them back, forced them over her head so they partly folded down her ears, makin' her look like a holiday goblin.

  The goggles turned everythin' a bloody shade'a red, but they also made it all sharper, outlined edges and brought out highlights and shadows in each individual cobblestone.

  “What're you gonna do?” Po asked Gideon, who hadn't taken a pair'a goggles for himself and was reloadin' his revolver slowly, like he was puttin' off somethin' unpleasant.

  “Gotta get back to—”

  Po couldn't even process hearin' the gunshot. She screamed as his chest heaved forward and a spurt'a blood burst outta his left shoulder. With a gasp'a pain, he stumbled into Hayden, whose hands flew to the blood while his face was still registerin' with shock, as if they'd been trained to know what to do on their own.

  Down the alley, one'a the soldiers had propped himself up against the wall and had a boxy handgun lifted to fire again. Supported by Hayden, Gideon drew his belt knife with his right arm and flicked it underhand. Po cringed, pushin' down her goggles as she looked away, but she could still hear the soldier's gun clappin' uselessly to the cobblestone.

  Hayden, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, started limpin' Gideon over to the wall, where he propped him up with Po's help. “I think it was a clean shot,” he murmured as he pulled Gideon's collar to one side to get a look at the wound. Po couldn't understand how his hands were so steady when she was shakin' like a leaf, unable to make herself let go'a Gideon's sleeve. “Almost more of a graze. But—”

  They all three looked back past the soldiers, hearin' the same thing: boots grindin' stone at a run, headed this way in numbers. The leeks sputtered treacherously.

  “Well?” Gideon snapped when Po and Hayden looked at him. “Quit standin' the
re! You're runnin' outta time!”

  “You need stitches,” Hayden said, and started rummagin' through his pockets, as if he actually had the needle on him. “You shouldn't be on your feet.”

  “We can walk him.” The footsteps were gettin' louder, joined by shouts'a alarm that made Po's grip on Gideon's sleeve tighten. “Walk him till we find someplace to hide.”

  With a curse and an irritable growl, Gideon said, “You're not gettin' it. If you don't do what Reece needs you to do, we're all dead.” Hayden went on rummagin', ignorin' him. “Aitch.”

  Hayden forcefully tore his hands outta his pockets and shouted, “I'm not leaving you!”

  “They're just gonna take me to the others. And that's if they catch me.”

  “I don't care! This is my job! My responsibility!” Po had never heard him so on edge, or seen him lookin' so wild, so angry, or so frightened.

  Gideon's blue eyes darted between Hayden's stricken expression and the road behind him. “Aitch,” he said carefully, “if you won't do it for me, you gotta do it for Po. You gotta get her outta here. She's your responsibility too.”

  Po was about to protest—she didn't like bein' talked over like she hadn't a say in the matter—when Hayden's expression cleared, and his shoulders slumped defeatedly.

  “Fine,” he said, like he understood somethin' heavier had been lyin' under Gideon's words. “Fine.” He quickly pulled off his Letoian cloak, wadded it up, and pressed it to Gideon's shoulder. “Keep pressure there. Get off your feet as soon as you can.”

  “One thing before you go.” Gideon smirked and jerked his chin. “Go get my knife back.”

  As Hayden shuffled to the fallen soldier, Po wanted to cry, wanted to cover her eyes with her hands, pull them away, and find everythin' better. But Da had had a sayin'. You can't fix a problem by pretendin' it's not there. She made herself unwind her fingers, let go'a Gideon's sleeve, and take a step in the right direction. Or maybe the wrong direction. That's what it felt like, leavin' Gideon to stand on his own.