And its propellers were spinning, their blades flashing in the sun.
“No,” Bastjan said, his gaze hopping from one propeller to another. “We can’t let ’im leave!”
“Looks like we’ve got no choice,” Alice said. “But if we can’t stop him before he takes off, then we’ve got to get on board.”
Bastjan stared out at the airship. Its mooring ropes were still tied. As he watched, he saw figures beginning to move around the tethered ship, and even from a distance, he recognized some of them as rousties from the circus.
“You need to get on board this thing?” Monty said. His long fingers flipped open a pouch at his belt. “Let me help.”
“Thanks, Mont,” Alice said.
“Think of it as my way of makin’ things up to you,” he told her.
“Here – wait.” Alice reached into her secret pocket and pulled out Mrs Palmer’s ring. She gave it one final rub, then handed it to Monty. She met his eye. “Enough to get started somewhere new.”
“Well, now. Don’t mind if I do,” Monty said, the ring vanishing into his own pocket. He smiled down at Alice and then, with a nod of farewell to everyone, he slipped his thin frame between the bars of the gate and was gone. The tall control tower stood at the quay’s far end. Bastjan flicked a wary gaze towards it, hoping nobody would notice the boy scurrying along the quay towards the moored ship.
“What’s ’e doin’?” Bastjan said.
“Wait and see,” Alice replied.
Bastjan turned to Ana and Carmen. Without a word, he dropped to his knees and reached out for them. Carmen placed a kiss on his head.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and Ana gave him an extra-hard squeeze.
“For you, anything,” she told him, as Bastjan pulled away and got to his feet.
“Stand back, girleen,” Crake muttered to Alice, raising his leg to kick at the gate. One powerful blow later and it landed on the quayside, wrenching free of its rusting hinges.
At just the same moment, there came a sudden boom. Wares began to bark and Alice quickly shushed him as a pop of light showered the back wall of the quay, sprinkling the dingy stone with colour. There was another boom, and another, both accompanied by explosions of light and pigment. The rousties around the ship shouted, starting to move towards the noise, searching for the source of the disturbance. Clouds of sparkling, colourful smoke filled the quay.
“Now,” Alice said, pulling Bastjan forwards. Crake squeezed out of the tunnel after them, keeping close to their heels. “That’s Monty. He’s giving us our chance.”
“How’s he doin’ it?” Bastjan asked as they ran.
“Some sort of compound he invented,” Alice said. “It rolls up into pellets and explodes when it lands.”
Bastjan’s breath began to thicken as they neared the airship. From a distance, it had been disconcerting enough; with every step towards it, it grew stranger still. If ever a vessel had been designed to carry a circus troupe through the air, this was it.
Through the smoke from Monty’s diversion he could see its huge, round balloon, red and blue and gold and green, the colours spilling over it in great swoops. It was chained in place above a large vessel which was almost spherical, besides a flat bottom and an extraordinary protrusion of metal and glass sticking out one end, stretching up towards the balloon overhead. On the airship’s side there was a giant painted eye and a swirl of grey and blue made to look like the swish of an elephant’s ear, and Bastjan let his gaze skip up the length of the glass and metal ‘trunk’, reaching up to play with the ‘ball’ of the balloon. Peeling paintwork on the body sketched out a tail, curling around the rump; above the tail, like a decoration on the ‘elephant’s’ back, were three smallish spheres, brightly painted. Along the bottom someone had taken care to draw out four huge feet, each with their greyish-white toenails. And beneath the ‘tail’ a hatch was open, with a ramp leading from it to the stone quayside below.
Together they scurried towards the ship, using the smoke from Monty’s fireworks as cover. Finally they reached the open hatch, trying to catch their breaths before continuing. Up close, Bastjan could see the airship’s cracked paintwork and the rust between the rivets.
An angry, familiar voice filled Bastjan’s ears. He felt Crake’s hand go round his arm as the strongman pulled him and Alice beneath the ramp, out of sight – and not a moment too soon. Boots tramped heavily down the metal ramp and then the voice spoke again. Quinn.
“What is it now? I can’t afford any more delay!” the ringmaster shouted as he walked over their heads.
A distant voice responded – one of the rousties. “A boy playin’ tricks, sir! He slipped out through the station entrance. We couldn’t catch him.” Bastjan felt Alice slump with relief.
“Ahyuk. We won’t be able to fly until the smoke clears, Mr Quinn,” came Hubert’s voice. “Shouldn’t take long, in this wind.”
“We need to get this thing off the ground, smoke or no smoke,” the ringmaster replied. “The pressure gauges have been stable for more’n twelve hours now, ever since we threw those blasted women overboard. This ship has to fly, or we’re ruined.”
“We’ve fixed the damage the Iberians did, sir,” came another voice. Bastjan thought it might belong to a roustie named Lahiri whose job it was to oversee the raising of the king pole every time the circus moved location. “But we won’t know until we start up the turbine again whether we’re safe to fly. In any case, Hubert’s right. We won’t be allowed to leave until visibility improves. I’ll signal the control tower and get instructions.”
“Just get us airborne, as quickly as you can.” The ringmaster paused and Bastjan imagined him scrubbing his hands through his hair. “I don’t think you boys realize what’s at stake here. We’re about to change the face of circus life and write ourselves into the history books. A leaky pipe, or a kid trickin’ around with fireworks, ain’t goin’ to stop me, fellas.” Beneath the ramp, Crake and the children – and Wares – stayed silent as heavy footsteps strode away overhead.
“He’ll get us all killed. Ahyuk.” Hubert’s voice, when it came again, was low. “We’re circus men, not airship engineers. An’ the only one of us with any experience of a vessel like this, ahyuk, is used to lettin’ ’em drop out of the sky.”
Lahiri didn’t reply for a moment. “Come on,” he finally said, sounding weary. “We’ve got work to do.”
When the men’s footsteps had fallen into silence, Bastjan and the others emerged from their hiding place. Crake clambered on to the ramp and pulled the children up after him. Then, together, they crept into the ship.
The walls of the interior were metal. Gleaming brass handrails, level with Bastjan’s head, were bolted in place. To the left was a wide corridor with doors on either side, at the far end of which was a set of steps leading to the body of the airship. Straight ahead, a pair of huge double doors stood open. Wordlessly, Bastjan and his friends made for them.
The room beyond the doors was gigantic. Against the walls, they could see shapes – boxes and crates, mostly – lashed down tight. Right in the centre was a cage, held firmly in place with straps and ropes. A cold wave washed over Bastjan as he looked at it. He’s goin’ to put it in ’ere, he told himself. This cage is fer the creature. We were right – Quinn really is goin’ after that creature in the Silent City, an’ there’s no chance he’s givin’ Bauer the box.
“This here’s the hold,” Crake whispered. “Fer storin’ cargo, an’ suchlike.”
“Or the Slipskin,” Bastjan muttered, looking up at him.
Crake was about to reply when they heard the sound of footsteps clanging up into the airship and loud voices in the passageway just behind them. The rousties were back. Silently, the stowaways slipped into the hold, crouching amid the shadows.
Bastjan found himself letting out a held breath as the rousties stomped up the corridor towards the metal staircase.
“Here,” whispered Alice. She’d found a corner behind a large packing cas
e, big enough for them all to hide.
“Now what?” Crake said, as he settled himself on the cold floor.
“I din’t mean for any of this to happen,” Bastjan whispered. “What’re we goin’ to do? We can’t go after ’im now. The place is packed with rousties. We’d be kicked off – or worse.”
“He’s after the creature, that much is for sure,” Alice said, looking at the cage.
“Yeah. He wants it for a new showstopper, I s’pose – an act nobody else can match.” The children looked at one another. “He must be plannin’ to use my mum’s bracelet to get at the Slipskin. That’s why ’e wanted it for ’imself.” Bastjan stopped, swallowing hard. “But it’s not what Mum wanted. I got to give it back.”
Alice nodded. “But how are we going—”
Her words were cut off as the entire airship lurched to one side. Crake raised one arm to keep the heavy packing case from sliding and trapping them all against the wall. The ship righted itself and they could feel a strange, uncomfortable buzzing in their bones as, somewhere beneath them, a massive turbine kicked into life.
“I guess we ain’t got no choice now,” Bastjan said. “We’re goin’ to Melita, whether we like it or not.”
Bastjan woke suddenly from a doze. He jerked upright, blinking hard. Crake was snoring softly in the corner. The hold was dark, except for the faint glow seeping in from the corridor outside, and the walls still hummed as the airship flew.
“Are you all right?” Alice whispered.
Bastjan looked in the direction of her voice. “Yeah. You?” He swallowed carefully. His mouth was uncomfortably dry.
Bastjan felt her come to sit beside him and Wares scampered on to his lap. He rubbed the dog’s head gratefully.
“I wonder how long we’ve been airborne,” Alice said.
Bastjan shrugged. “Or what time it is. Hard to tell, wi’ no daylight.” He chewed on his lip for a moment before continuing. “Listen, there’s somethin’ I bin meanin’ to ask you.” He paused and Alice braced herself for what she knew was coming. “Ada Palmer called you ‘Lady Patten’, back at the quay. An’ Monty? He called you ‘Lady’, like it were a nickname. But I’m guessin’ it wasn’t.”
“Yes. And?” Alice said at last.
“And? Who are you, really?” Bastjan persisted.
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My grandfather’s Lord Patten. My mother was Lady Patten. At least, she was, until…” Alice stopped for a moment. “She and my dad caught fever on board a ship from the Mascarene Islands, when I was three.” She sniffed quietly. “So my grandfather became my guardian. And yes, he used to serve in parliament, and he’s a professor in Magdalen College, and he’s got a big house, and all the rest of it. But I’m only his granddaughter.” She turned to Bastjan, who could just make out the shine on her eyes. “I’m nobody special.”
“Yes, y’are,” Bastjan said. “Lady or not.”
“He didn’t think so,” she replied, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“Who? Yer grandad?” Bastjan shifted position on the uncomfortable floor. “Ain’t he got the whole country out lookin’ for you?” Wares clambered down from his lap and began to pad across the metal floor, his nails click-clicking as he went.
“Looking for me to fix me,” Alice muttered. “Looking for me to check whether I’m good enough yet, but I’ll never be good enough.”
“Dunno why anyone’d think that,” Bastjan said.
“He kept finding doctors.” Alice sighed. “Doctors with fine needles and then doctors with thick needles. Doctors with foul-tasting drinks or horrible, burning ointments that they wanted me to rub on. Nothing worked, and grandfather just got more and more impatient with the whole thing. With me.” She paused and Bastjan waited for her to continue.
“I was never enough, never right, just as I was. Everything I did fell short of what he expected, all because of this mark on my face. I could never get him to see that it didn’t matter. And then, one day, a stranger came to our house – a visiting professor from another university – and he didn’t even introduce me as his granddaughter. ‘This is my ward, Alice,’ he said. I shook hands with our guest and curtsied like a lady. Then I went to my room and made a rope out of my bedsheets and I climbed out the window.” She sniffed again. “I never ever want to go back there.”
“I wouldn’t, neither,” Bastjan said.
“So you see why I ended up with Mrs Palmer,” Alice said. “But I couldn’t stay with her. And now I’m here.”
“Well,” Bastjan said. “Look on the bright side. Can’t get much worse, can it?”
“Anyway,” Alice said, a grin in her voice. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about your mother’s box. It’s likely to be with the ringmaster, isn’t it? We need to find him. Or at least his quarters.”
Bastjan was about to answer, but then he sat forwards suddenly, scanning the hold. He squinted through the gloom. “Wares?” he breathed, but the dog didn’t leap into his lap.
Alice jerked into motion. “Wares!” she whispered, as loudly as she could. She whistled quietly, but it was no use. The dog was gone.
“Maybe he’s gone to look fer some grub,” Bastjan suggested as his own stomach growled.
“That’ll be it,” Alice said. “We’ve got to find him. If Quinn spots Wares he’ll know we’re on board.”
Bastjan glanced at the sleeping Crake. “Yeah. Can’t be too hard, right? An’ we’ll bring back a snack or two for this fella while we’re at it.”
Alice settled the bag on her shoulder and tiptoed towards the door, Bastjan close behind. Together, they stepped out of the hold and began to walk up the narrow metal corridor. The ship seemed deserted, but it wasn’t quite silent. Somewhere, deeper in its workings, there was the regular chug-chug-chug of an engine, slow and steady, like a sluggish heartbeat. The walls vibrated very gently, buzzing lightly under the children’s fingertips as they crept along.
They drew near the metal staircase and Bastjan slid his hand into Alice’s. She gave it a reassuring squeeze as they climbed the steps. At the top, there was a wide corridor stretching in both directions. The right-hand side was dark, while the left was lit by flickering lanterns suspended from the ceiling.
Alice and Bastjan turned to the left and kept walking. Doors and hatchways opened to either side and they passed a wall-mounted case containing a fire axe, its blade fearsome even behind thick glass. Eventually, the floors changed from bare boards to thin, faded carpet and a brass handrail appeared on the wall, curving alongside them like a finger pointing the way. They passed a set of wide-open doors. The vast room they gave way to, filled with empty tables and chairs, reminded Bastjan of the mess tent back at the circus. Then they came to a door with a round dark window set into its upper half. It swung gently open and closed with the movement of the ship.
“Galley,” Alice read, looking at a sign on the door. “That’s what kitchens are called on ships.”
“C’mon, then,” Bastjan said, pushing open the door into an unlit room.
Alice followed him through. “Wares!” she whispered. “Are you in here? Come on, boy!”
On the far side of the room, the click-click of paws could be heard. Alice dropped to her knees as Wares came barrelling into her arms. She laughed quietly as the dog licked every inch of skin he could reach.
“Come on, you pair,” Bastjan grinned. “Let’s grab what we can, an’ then…” His words trailed off as something reached his ears – the sound of voices. The children scrambled beneath a nearby table, hastily arranging the cloth to try to cover them. Alice held Wares tight and his small body quivered with a barely suppressed growl.
Lights came on inside the room and heavy footsteps made the floor shake.
“Get that kettle going, an’ I’ll find a tray for the cups,” said one of the men who’d come in. Bastjan recognized his voice. He and another man began to stride about the room, and Bastjan tried to press himself into the wall in his desperation not to be discovered.
“Here,” came the second man’s voice. “The pantry’s in a mess! Like somethin’ was rootin’ about pullin’ things down off shelves.” Alice and Bastjan stared at Wares, who gave his muzzle an innocent lick.
“Check the room,” the first man said quietly. The children listened, barely daring to breathe, as doors were opened and drawers pulled out. Footsteps came closer and closer until, finally, the cloth concealing them from view was yanked up.
A strong hand reached in to pull Bastjan out by the ear.
“Should’ve known it’d be you,” growled the second man. Bastjan didn’t know his name, only that he was a rigger – one of the rousties who helped put up the tent.
Alice scrambled out after Bastjan, Wares in her arms.
“Let him go!” she said. “We’re not doing any harm!” The first man grabbed Alice by the collar. Wares leaped down from her arms and was out through the galley door like a flash.
The second roustie raised an eyebrow. “We’ll let Mr Quinn decide what harm you’re doing.” He reached for Alice and the other man handed her over. “Go and find that mutt,” he instructed.
The first man nodded.
“An’ now,” said the second roustie, looking from Bastjan to Alice. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
He pulled them through the galley door and on up the corridor until they reached a pair of double doors, which he kicked open. Beyond them was a lobby paved with marble tiles. Plants in large bronze-coloured urns, their leaves edged with brown, were dotted here and there, and a gigantic chandelier hung high above, suspended from the tip of what looked like a tower of glass. A spiral staircase ran up the inside of the tower and right at the very top Bastjan could make out the curving side of the huge balloon, illuminated by the light shining up from the airship.
“Where are you taking us?” Alice demanded.
“Up those stairs,” the man replied. “So save your breath.”
Skyborn Page 19
