The Airship Race (Clockwork Calico Book 3)
Page 12
“Lionel,” Florence called. Arriving at the race grounds, she was dressed in a fine apricot-colored gown. Feathers trailed behind her hat, fluttering on the wind. Tucked beneath her arm was Gadget, his tail wagging, his eyes bright. She’d fastened a bow tie around his neck and placed a top hat on his head. He looked a perfect gentleman.
“You made it,” Lionel said, hugging his sister.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she said. Allowing Gadget some freedom, she placed him on his own four paws. He immediately began to bark, his eyes locked on the balloon next to Lionel’s. The more it bobbed on the wind, the more the little dog barked.
“Shh,” Florence said. “It’s only a balloon.” Lifting him, she brought him close to Lionel’s balloon, which he sniffed thoroughly. A disappointed groan came from his throat. Clearly the dog wasn’t convinced the two objects were the same. When she returned him to the ground, he continued his barking tirade.
Florence sighed. “I suppose I’ll let him bark awhile.”
Lionel chuckled. “He’ll stop as soon as we’re all off the ground.”
While the two conversed, Cali took the opportunity to scan the crowd for Morcroft. She spotted him seven airships away. Tall and imposing, he wore black goggles, which made his features appear even more sinister. She hesitated to point him out to Emmit. Was she doing the right thing? There was little time to reconsider.
“Have you seen Morcroft yet?” Emmit asked.
Her mouth went dry. “I have,” she said. “But I’m not sure you should go over there.”
“Why not?” he asked. “Don’t you want me to protect Lionel?”
“Of course I want Lionel to be safe,” she said. “But maybe I can keep him safe without risking you in the process.”
“Cali, we’ve been over this,” he replied. “Someone has to hinder Morcroft’s plans. I know there are weapons on that ship, and I won’t let him harm the other racers.” Firm in his opinion, his voice did not waver. There was no other who could thwart the Guild leader’s schemes the way he could. Only a mouse would safely fit inside the engine, and there were none around who cared as much as Emmit.
Cali grabbed the little mouse and squeezed him tight against her fur. “You be safe,” she said. “Don’t let him see you, and don’t take unnecessary risks. You’re my best friend, Emmit. I want to see you safe and whole when this is all over.”
“You have my word on it,” Emmit said, hugging her back.
“Morcroft’s vessel is seven ships away,” she told him. “Please be careful.”
She watched him walk away, skirting around baskets and strewn tools to avoid any notice. Cali turned her eyes to the sky, imploring the clouds to watch over her friend. He has a world of street smarts, she reminded herself. He’ll be safe.
When he disappeared from view, tears welled in Cali’s eyes. She brushed them away and took a deep breath. Turning her back, she returned to Lionel’s side. Emmit’s fate was now out of her paws.
Emmit scurried along the grass, grateful it hadn’t been trimmed too short. Except for a faint movement of green, there was no sign of him. Still, he couldn’t take a direct route to Morcroft. The area was too open, and someone was bound to notice an unbroken line heading toward one of the racers. Instead, he took a roundabout approach, weaving between baskets and stopping frequently to avoid notice.
Darting between the two largest airships, he paused and hunkered low in the grass. A dog, a large one, was seated directly in front of him. Was it friendly? There was no way to ask without putting himself in danger. Rather than risk being eaten before he ever reached his destination, he turned around and sprinted in the opposite direction.
He ended up near the podium where the racer’s names were about to be announced. A squeal sounded from one of the speakers, setting his ears to ringing. He hurried away, narrowly avoiding the feet of a man walking nearby. When he reached the balloon next to Morcroft, he paused for a moment to gather his courage.
The tall figure dressed in a black overcoat was far more intimidating from this proximity. When the man looked up, he locked eyes on Emmit. The little mouse froze, not daring to breathe. But Morcroft looked away, uninterested. Emmit couldn’t be sure if he’d actually been spotted. The lenses of Morcroft’s goggles were completely blacked out, making it impossible to determine where he was looking.
Emmit finally allowed himself to breathe again. Had he been spotted, surely the Guild leader would have said something. A rodent near his airship would be unacceptable. Keeping himself concealed behind the basket, he watched as Morcroft went about his business. The man constantly looked over his shoulder. Emmit knew that meant trouble. Looking down the line, he spotted the judges, who had already moved on from Morcroft’s vessel. They were three ships away.
Unable to stop Morcroft from adding the weapons to his ship, Emmit had to follow through with the original plan. He took two deep breaths before darting toward Morcroft’s vessel. The Guild leader saw nothing. His head was lowered, his hands reaching for a set of tools on the ground. Emmit had made it. Tucking himself away in the engine, he made himself as small as possible.
Tools in hand, Morcroft turned and proceeded toward the vessel. Inserting a screwdriver inside the engine, he adjusted the tension of a gear. Then he placed a wrench inside the compartment where the mouse was concealed. Emmit cringed, folding himself in half. The wrench slid in next to him, reaching for a bolt on the opposite side of the compartment. The mouse kept himself flat against the side, clutching his legs to his chest. When the wrench was removed, the mouse released his grip and melted into a puddle. That was too close, he thought.
From his position, he could see through the slits of mesh in the engine. Morcroft appeared to have finished his work and was casually leaning against the basket, his arms crossed. Emmit continued to focus on his breathing. He counted the seconds as they slowly ticked by. The sooner the race starts, the sooner it’ll be over, he thought. The race couldn’t get started soon enough for him.
* * * * *
“What an interesting feline,” one of the judges commented. He bent down to examine Cali and reached out a hand for her to sniff.
On her best behavior, Cali pushed her face into his hand, welcoming him.
“And friendly as well,” he said, stroking her fur. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“My own design,” Lionel said. “She was at the last exhibition.”
“I was out of town,” the man said frowning. “I certainly regret not seeing her on display.”
The second judge began his inspection of the ship, allowing his companion to spend a few minutes admiring Cali. Lionel was happy to answer all his questions and point out the features of the ship.
“Everything seems in order.” The man made some marks on the papers he was holding and handed a signed page to Lionel. “Please review these rules a final time and sign that you’ve acknowledged them.”
Lionel did as he was told and handed the paper back in exchange for a number to be displayed on the ship. He held the number up for Florence to see. “Lucky number twelve,” he said. He reached out to shake the judge’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
The man nodded and headed for the next ship. The other judge finally managed to pry himself away from Cali. As he turned to follow his companion, he said, “Remarkable.”
Cali beamed with pride.
“Looks like we’re all set,” Lionel said. “I’d better start warming up the engine.” Positioning his goggles over his eyes, he swung a leg over the basket. Realizing he’d forgotten something, he stepped back out. “Forgot my good luck charm,” he said. Retrieving a small knife from his pocket, he stepped toward Cali. “A lock of fur ought to do it.” But when he knelt to collect it, Cali moved away. “It won’t hurt,” he said, wrinkling his brow.
Cali wasn’t frightened. She leapt inside the basket and hopped onto her perch. Lying down, she curled her paws beneath her.
“I guess the whole cat is better than a
lock of fur,” he said, laughing.
“But what about the rules?” Florence asked. “Will they allow it?”
“The rules said only one man or woman per craft. It didn’t say anything about cats.”
“Then it looks like you have a traveling companion,” Florence said. She leaned in to hug her brother one more time. Gadget took the opportunity to lick Lionel’s face.
The tinker scratched the dog behind his ear. “There’s a good boy,” he said.
Gadget replied with his best tongue-out dog smile.
“Be safe, and good luck!” Florence said. She took a step back, not wanting to stand too close to the engine.
Lionel reached inside his tool pouch and produced a small pair of goggles. “I guess it’s a good thing I brought these.” He positioned them over Cali’s eyes. “Finished putting them together last night. They’ll keep the wind out of your eyes.”
Less than amused, she started to remove them. But then she decided to wear them. They were a gift, and she should accept them with grace and dignity. Besides, they might be useful. With the wind blocked, she wouldn’t have to blink as often and could keep a better lookout for Morcroft’s balloon.
The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudtalker, signaling the contestants to make ready. Engines all around purred to life, some of them sputtering out. Cali wondered how many wouldn’t make it off the ground. If she was lucky, Morcroft’s would be among the grounded vessels, and that meant both Emmit and Lionel would be entirely safe.
The blast of a pistol rang through the air, signaling the racers to begin their ascent. Lionel grabbed the throttle and pulled, sending full power to his engine. As hot air pumped into the balloon, it lifted off the ground, even with the vessel next to it. Cali nearly burst with excitement. The race was finally on.
Florence clutched Gadget to her side and waved to her brother as he rose higher in the air. The tinker turned only once to wave back, and then placed his full attention on the wheel. There were several vessels taking off at once, and a collision was the last thing he needed. Steering clear of his competitors, he gave the engine a push. The airship leaped out ahead of the competition, leaving them trailing behind.
Cali could barely hear the voice on the loudtalker announcing that vessel number twelve had taken the early lead. She wondered what number Morcroft had received and counted backward in her mind. It was likely number five. She would have to keep her eyes peeled for his ship.
Sailing was smooth despite the rapid pace. The wind felt fantastic rippling through her tricolored fur. She savored the sensation without realizing that her paws were clenched tight beneath her. She flexed them, stretching them again and again.
Why was she nervous? No matter how she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Who was in more danger, Emmit or Lionel? One glance at the tinker settled her mind that he was protected. The parachute bag she’d fashioned for him was strapped to his back. That left only Emmit to worry about. If Morcroft discovered him, he’d be thrown overboard.
Cali regretted her decision to let the mouse out of her sight. It was too dangerous, and she could look out for Lionel well enough on her own. Why had she let him go? The thought settled like a stone in her stomach. Please be safe, Emmit, she thought. If anything happened to him, she’d never forgive herself.
Several minutes passed, and the balloon neared the river’s edge. Three other balloons were gaining speed, moving closer to Lionel’s ship. He waited, allowing them to reach him. One passed and then the second. The tinker tapped his finger impatiently against the wheel.
“Come on,” he muttered. Finally the third ship pulled ahead of him, and he reached for a lever on the engine. Immediately the ship lurched forward, finding an extra burst of speed. The propeller spun so fast, it nearly disappeared from sight. Lionel shouted, “Woohoo!”
Cali mewed her approval. They were certainly flying now. She dug her claws into her perch to keep herself steady. They’d never flown this fast before.
Lionel waved as he sailed past the three ships that had managed to pass him. The looks of astonishment on their faces amused the calico, who twitched her tail at them. She and Lionel were going to win!
From the corner of her eye, Cali noticed another ship approaching. Zooming in, she read the number on the basket. It was a five. Her heart leapt into her throat. Morcroft was gaining on them. Her paws began to sweat as she dared to stand, keeping her eyes locked on the advancing ship. There was no sign of Emmit, naturally. She hoped that meant he was safe inside the engine.
How had Morcroft caught up to them? That was the part she couldn’t figure out. His design schematics had revealed nothing that would give him a burst of speed to match Lionel’s. Had he managed to steal the tinker’s design after all? The Guild leader had spies everywhere. Someone must have been watching Lionel while he was on the rooftop. But how?
The answers to those questions no longer mattered. There were far more pressing matters at hand. However Morcroft had managed it, his ship was drawing near, and Cali readied herself for a fight. Claws out, she arched her back, her fur standing on end.
“What is it, Cali?” Lionel asked. One look behind the vessel and he knew. “Morcroft,” he said. “We’ll see if he can match this.” He shifted gears on his engine and turned up the flame. The balloon headed upward, gradually gaining speed. “That’s as fast as she can go,” Lionel said.
Cali hoped it would be enough. A gap formed between Lionel and Morcroft, but the Guild leader didn’t need to keep pace with his competitor. Cali watched him step to the back of the craft to fiddle with something on the engine. She braced herself for an attack.
* * * * *
Hidden in the engine, Emmit saw Morcroft’s shadow approaching. Now was his moment to shine. The Guild leader’s bony fingers reached toward a trigger. Emmit recognized it immediately. The trigger would launch a grappling hook aimed at Lionel’s propeller. With the propeller jammed, Morcroft would be able to control the ship’s course, drawing it near his own. Emmit couldn’t let that happen.
Hurrying toward the mechanism, he pulled on a nearby lever, jamming the trigger. Morcroft attempted to pull it, but it wouldn’t budge. He cursed under his breath and looked over at Lionel. His ship was getting farther away.
Returning to the wheel, Morcroft retrieved another weapon. This one wasn’t mounted to the engine. Emmit gasped when he saw it. It was a crossbow, and loaded on it was an arrow with what appeared to be a blunt end. When it dripped twice, the mouse realized what was happening. Morcroft was sending over an arrowhead filled with water to douse Lionel’s flame!
There was no time to think. Darting from the engine, he scurried up Morcroft’s pant leg and chomped down on his thigh. The bite came too late. Morcroft fired before screaming in surprise and pain. Slapping at every inch of his pants, he tried to squash whatever had bit him. He was too slow. Emmit dropped down the man’s leg and ran behind him, avoiding every blow.
Back in his hiding spot, Emmit squinted into the distance. Lionel’s balloon had dipped lower. The arrow had hit its mark. He cringed, expecting to see the balloon fall out of the sky. To his delight, it didn’t. He could just make out the tinker’s form as he tended the flame like a true professional. With the flame restored, the balloon ascended, still well ahead of the other racers. Morcroft would have to try again.
The Guild leader was determined to do just that. Before Emmit could relax, the man’s bony hand was reaching again for the grappling hook. He managed to find what was blocking it, and tossing it aside, he reached for the trigger. Panicking, Emmit knew he wasn’t strong enough to hold the trigger back. He used the only weapon at his disposal and bit the man’s hand as hard as he could.
Morcroft recoiled, drawing his hand to his chest. The mouse was still attached. Shaking his hand violently, he slung the rodent over the edge of the basket.
Plummeting toward the earth, Emmit let out a shriek. Images of his life flashed before his eyes, no fea
st of cheese being forgotten. Visions of desserts not eaten filled him with regret. But images of Cali filled him with determination. If he allowed himself to die, she would blame herself. He couldn’t let that happen. Twisting his body in a very feline way, the mouse flipped over, positioning his paws beneath him. To his immense surprise, there was a cluster of bushes beneath him.
When he hit the spongy top of the well-groomed shrubbery, he bounced. The air was forced out of him, but he was otherwise unharmed. His thoughts immediately turned to Cali and Lionel, who were now at the mercy of the sinister Morcroft. How could he possibly help them now?
Taking to his feet, he ran without regard for who might see him. No human could catch a mouse running so fast, and there were no predators in sight. He spotted Florence’s bright-colored dress and focused his mind to reaching her.
When he arrived, he nearly keeled over from exertion, but he managed to keep himself upright. “Gadget!” he called.
The dog tilted his head sideways, trying to identify who was calling. There on the ground was Emmit, his little paws waving frantically. Gadget hopped down, freeing himself from Florence’s arms. Seeming unconcerned, she shielded her eyes with her free hand and continued to look skyward.
“What are you doing here?” Gadget asked.
“Morcroft found me,” he replied. “I was thrown from the airship.”
“Oh my!” the dog said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” the mouse replied quickly. “But Cali and Lionel are in grave danger. Morcroft was after them, and there’s no one to stop him!”
“What can we do?” the dog asked, his brown eyes full of concern.
Emmit couldn’t answer. What could two small animals do from the ground? There was no way back into Morcroft’s ship, and they had no access to a weapon powerful enough to shoot the airship from the sky. Both turned their gaze to the sky and held their breath.