Praying might serve you better than being snippy. She sucked in a deep breath. It was only one floor.
Plenty high enough to kill you, girl.
“I suppose I can’t take exception to your tone.” Bion scanned the yard once again before tossing their rope down the side of the building.
“Because it saves you the trouble of trying to decide how to talk me into following you?”
He gave the rope a yank and the bed remained solidly in place. The look he gave her was rich with challenge. “I expect Grace O’Malley to have no problem following.”
He shot her a grin and a wink before he went through the window, the rope pulling tight as it supported his weight. The edges of the horizon were pink. Soon there would be too much light for them to make it down the expanse of the wall without being seen. Sophia poked her head out and swallowed to force a lump down her throat.
If she were going to die, she’d go out like a pirate queen.
The rope Bion had fashioned was easy to hook her hands into. She swung her leg over the windowsill, but the side of the house was slick. She lodged the tip of her boot into a groove between bricks and ordered herself to leave the house behind.
Bion was right; she shouldn’t look down. But her pride refused to allow her to heed his advice. She was suddenly grateful for every sore, aching muscle her Asian fighting class had given her because she needed the strength she had built up. Her arm shook but she took one step and then another down the side of the house. The distance was no more than that of crossing a bedchamber but it seemed to take forever. Her heart was racing and sweat popped out on her forehead. She had to slide her feet along the smooth surface of the stone wall because the riding skirt she’d found to wear kept trying to get under her boot heels. Her fingers began to ache and it seemed as though the sun was rising impossibly fast.
“Almost there,” Bion whispered from below.
She was panting but moved her feet a few more steps. At last Bion reached up and caught her. She wasn’t even willing to quibble about the fact that he grabbed her hips in a far too intimate fashion for out of doors.
They were outside!
She drew in a breath and savored the feeling of the earth beneath her feet. “We did it.”
“Not yet we haven’t.” Bion’s voice was edged with urgency. “It won’t take them more than an hour to see that rope.”
He clasped her hand and tugged her around the back of the house. He slipped along the wall and she mimicked him. The chickens were waking up, the rooster beginning to crow. Behind the main house the stables stood in the predawn light. The master of the hounds was shepherding his charges inside, the animals eager to be fed.
Someone struck a bell in the distance, the sharp sound carrying through the morning stillness.
“That will be the watch changing at the gate.”
A few moments later, there was the steady sound of marching feet as the men who had manned the gate returned to the barrack buildings. The back doors of the kitchen opened, two youths appearing with their hands full. One carried an iron pot with steam rising from its top while the other balanced a huge pitcher. Behind them a younger boy hauled a basket of freshly baked bread. They trudged toward the long, low building the guards had disappeared into.
“That will keep them occupied for half an hour.” Bion pulled a small pocket watch from his vest pocket and noted the time.
Sophia scanned the area around them, desperate to find somewhere to hide. Dawn was still breaking, but it felt like high noon on an August day.
“Here,” Bion announced at last. He pulled her a few more feet toward the kitchen doors, then reached down to lift a small trapdoor.
She hurried inside, crouching down to fit through the entrance. The air was musty and stale, but she could make out the shelves that lined the walls. The air was chilly, which would keep the food stores fresh and she hugged her arms to keep warm.
“Now we wait.” Bion’s voice was hard. There was no going back for him and she realized she felt the same. He kept the door to the root cellar open just an inch or two. They watched the boys return to the kitchen, their feet kicking up dust as they stomped the dirt loose on the steps.
The light was increasing and all they could do was wait. She was straining to hear the sound of an approaching wagon. Every second seemed to last for hours.
She jumped when it came. She was so desperate for escape that Sophia doubted what her ears were telling her. She pressed her face closer to the opening and peered out into the dusky morning light.
“Your sight is better than mine. What is it?”
She blinked, forcing herself to believe what she saw. “A wagon. Oh yes, Bion… and it has a cover over the back of it.”
She was so happy she shook, but Bion didn’t share her joy.
“Let’s hope they unload quickly. If not, it won’t take them long to find us here.”
She looked behind her. The shelves were only half full. No, it wouldn’t take long at all.
***
Mr. Graves whistled, then stopped, realizing what he was doing. It had been a mighty long time since he’d felt merry enough to whistle a tune while he worked. His new employer was perched behind the counter of his stall as Graves continued to set up the boxes of spices the man had for sale. There were cloves and cinnamon and their scents reminded Graves of his mother’s kitchen.
He whistled again, remembering the song his mother had so often sung to him. He felt younger than he had in a long time; freedom seemed to be a magical tonic. There were men who would call him foolish for giving up his rank among the crew of the Soiled Dove, but he was more than content with his choice. He’d happily remain a lowly merchant’s man.
“Exotic birds Camden can get. The man lives in the Ottoman Empire.”
Graves froze, his blood chilling at the sound of the familiar voice. He looked past the boxes he’d just stacked and felt his eyes widen. Captain Aetos walked among the stalls, members of his crew trailing behind him.
It was fate coming to get him, all his misdeeds refusing to be left behind. He didn’t deserve happiness. His hand gripped the small box he held so tightly that the wood cracked. The sound drew his attention and when he looked back up, Aetos had moved on.
Graves set the box down, his arms shaking as sweat dotted his brow. How in the hell had he gotten so lucky? He couldn’t find a reason, which left him with the sure knowledge that a reckoning was coming.
He certainly deserved it.
***
“We’ll have to make a run for it.”
Even if Bion’s voice had held hope, Sophia doubted she would have placed any faith in it. There were just too many opportunities for failure.
But she mustn’t dwell on that. No, it would be better to feel the strength in Bion’s grip as he prepared to leave the root cellar behind. There was plenty of light now, maybe not full daylight but enough for anyone to spot them. She drew in a deep breath and tried to muster her courage.
“Let’s go.”
He cut her a sidelong glance and she stared straight back at him. “I’ll be right behind you,” she promised.
He nodded and lifted the cellar door. They climbed out and hurried across the distance toward the wagon. Inside the kitchen, the sound of people moving about drifted out the open door. Outside, someone was arguing with the owner of the wagon over the price as the rest of the kitchen staff scurried inside to escape it.
Bion climbed up into the back of the delivery wagon with one long step, pulling her along with him. The cover that had protected the goods from dust was pushed toward the back of the bed. Sophia knocked her shin as she followed Bion but she didn’t slow down. Pain shot up her leg as she crawled down the bed of the wagon and beneath the thick cover Bion held up for her. It smelled of road dirt and spoiled milk, but she decided it was the best scent in the world.
They were huddled in the corner and she realized Bion’s jaw was clenched. Of course it was; he wasn’t one who hid from trouble.
But there was nothing for it. The driver muttered something in Russian that Sophia didn’t need translated. Profanity had a tone that was universal.
The driver climbed up onto the seat and set the horses in motion. The wagon swayed as it turned in a circle and began the trek back to the gates. It was so simple, yet every second felt like an hour. All of her senses were heightened as they neared the gate and it opened.
She shivered with happiness and Bion squeezed her hand in response. Hope filled her as the wagon continued on its way, no shout for it to stop coming. It seemed too good to be true.
Which was what frightened her most.
***
Captain Aetos didn’t like being on the ground too long. His temper was being tested as he walked through the stalls of the marketplace. He had more important things to do than buy gifts for a spoiled businessman. But offending Jordon Camden meant losing an important contact.
The morning was well underway as he continued to pass stalls because their merchandise seemed too common. Everything was beginning to blur as he became more frustrated with the need to procure something before the auction time arrived.
He checked his watch and growled. It would have to wait. Aetos turned to retrace his steps to where his horse was tied on the outskirts of the market.
***
“The prince only gave me half of what it was worth.”
Bion held up a hand to warn her to be silent as the wagon stopped.
“Not even enough to pay for the feed for the horses,” the driver grumbled as he walked away.
Conversation drifted around them and Bion lifted one corner of the cover. They were parked on the outskirts of the morning market, horses and wagons lined up along a fence that was being used as a hitching post.
“The prince will send his men after us, you can bet on it,” Bion warned her.
“Then we’d better hurry.”
Sophia climbed out of the wagon, not caring for the feeling that was churning in her belly—as if everyone around them was watching them.
“We’ll have to try and hire some horses. A cart will be too slow, and stealing anything would give the prince the legal right to imprison us if we were caught,” Bion said as he led her past the delivery wagon.
“With what money?”
He shrugged. “We’ll promise them payment when we arrive.”
“How about I collect payment for you, Captain Donkova?”
Bion whirled around in a savage motion, pushing her behind him as they came face to face with Captain Aetos. He pointed a small pistol at them.
“It seems only fair since it was my Root Ball that transformed you into something of value,” Aetos continued.
Every muscle she had drew tense. Bion snarled softly and stretched his arms out wide.
“Do stay right there,” Aetos warned.
“It’s going to take more than that peashooter to stop me,” Bion assured him.
Aetos never faltered. “But I don’t need to stop you, Captain Donkova. Just burden you enough so that you can’t outrun my men.”
Aetos shifted the gun and understanding dawned on Sophia. Her memory flashed with a vivid picture of Hawaii and Grainger shooting her to keep Janette in line.
Not again! She would not let it happen. They’d reached the stalls, and she brutally shoved a table over. Its contents went flying into Aetos as she reached out and grabbed Bion by the waist of his trousers.
“Run!”
Aetos let out a snarl as he tumbled backward. Sophia didn’t wait to see if he fell. Bion turned in a flash and pulled her around the next stall. There was a crack from the pistol and an instant later she felt the bullet bite into her leg.
“Bastard!” she snapped, limping a few more steps before she crumpled. She tried to rise, but her leg refused to hold her weight.
“So you do know some curses.” Bion pulled her behind a stall and lifted a finger to silence her.
Pain snaked along her calf, burning as hot as a fire poker. Bion pulled her behind some crates as she ground her teeth together to keep quiet.
“They can’t be far,” Aetos yelled.
Bion pushed her head down because every instinct she had wanted to fight. It was a sort of desperation and it was trying to take control of her. She fought it, needing her wits since she couldn’t run.
But Bion could.
She looked at him, locking gazes, then she waved him away, motioning emphatically. Surprise flickered in his eyes, then they narrowed and he slowly shook his head. They glared at one another, neither one willing to give in until a soft step landed behind them in the stall.
Sophia lifted her head and shuddered when she saw Mr. Graves. He had a small crate in his hands and his lips were pressed into a hard line.
“Mr. Graves!” Aetos yelled. “Which way did my Navigators go? I hit one, so they can’t be far.”
The market was really bustling now, people crowding its paths. Mr. Graves put the crate down and pointed away from them. “That way, Captain. Saw it plain as day.”
“Get moving!” Aetos barked at his men. There was the sound of people cursing as they were jostled and pushed aside.
But Mr. Graves stood still and looked down at them. “They’re gone.”
Sophia finally drew in a breath. She hadn’t realized just how starved her lungs were for oxygen. She gulped like a freshly caught fish before mastering the urge to keep gasping. Once her need for breath was satisfied, the wound on her leg became excruciating, but she smiled.
“You make it hard to kill you, Mr. Graves.” Bion looked through the crates to ensure that Aetos was gone before standing up to loom over their unexpected savior.
The sailor from the Soiled Dove shrugged, suddenly looking haggard. “I’ve done a fair number of things worthy of having my neck broken,” he said, and ran a hand over his tired features. “All of them in the interest of living another day. I wasn’t but a lad when I first ran afoul of them pirates. Life seemed too dear to give up, even if honor demanded it.”
He closed his mouth, looking resigned to his fate. For the first time, Sophia found something in the man worthy of respect.
Bion looked like he was fighting off the urge to strike, but he finally nodded. “You’ll have to face a Marshal.”
Mr. Graves grunted. “You’ll likely doubt me when I tell you I’m right pleased. See, I never held out much hope that I’d find my way onto land alive.”
“That’s a new way to look at it,” Lykos offered as he appeared nearby. “I suppose I’ll have to follow my comrade’s example and decline to put a bullet through you. How very disappointing. After the chase I’ve had, I really want to shoot someone.”
“By all means, go after Captain Aetos if it’s bloodletting you crave,” Sophia exclaimed with a big grin. “In fact, if you’d simply be so kind as to hand me that weapon—”
“We’re getting out of here, Sophia.” Bion stooped to flip her skirt back and inspect her wound, then gently pulled her to her feet. “Even if I agree with you.”
Sweat popped out on her brow from the pain, but she managed to stay on her feet, firmly supported by Bion.
Lykos offered her a smirk. “Do my eyes deceive me? Is this not the second time I have discovered you bleeding from a limb?”
“I wanted matching scars,” she shot back. For just a moment, she enjoyed watching Bion’s eyes narrow at her before she sighed. “Because once I am back in Britain, I plan to have a most normal and predictable life.”
“Now that is something I agree with, Miss Stevenson.” It wasn’t the heartwarming admission she would have liked, but it was Bion Donkova. Her man of action, her pirate. He scooped her up and Lykos motioned them away from where Aetos had headed. He led them around the edge of a stall and back to where two horses were tied.
“The air station is a good day’s ride,” Lykos informed them as Bion helped her into the saddle. He tore a strip from her skirt and bound her leg, then held out a hand to Lykos.
Lykos hesitated before reac
hing into his vest and pulling out a small metal flask. “It’s the last of my stash.”
Bion unscrewed the cap, sniffed the contents, then took a swig. “High quality as usual. It certainly is nice to be back to normalcy.”
He handed the flask up to Sophia and she took a long drink. When she lowered her chin, she smiled at the two men watching her with stunned expressions.
“Well now, don’t you know an Irish gal can handle her liquor as well as any man? Even if my father insisted I keep that little skill for the kitchen, in the interests of maintaining appearances.” She lifted the flask again because it was going to be a long ride and her leg ached. “But as an Illuminist, I won’t be needing ladylike airs, so if you pass me the whiskey, expect me to enjoy it.”
Bion smiled, his teeth flashing at her, and all he really lacked was a gold hoop dangling from his ear.
Lykos tossed a small purse to Bion. It jingled when he caught it. “Ride. I have to wait for Decima, but you two need to be gone immediately. We’ll see you back in London.”
Bion froze with one foot in the stirrup.
“Go, Captain. I can blend in. You and Miss Stevenson can’t, and I would greatly appreciate you not placing me in the position of having to shoot you both when the prince’s men surround us and we are completely outnumbered. I believe our luck is well and truly depleted.”
“Agreed, but I do not like leaving you here.”
“It is the best course of action with your eyes altered,” Lykos insisted.
Bion’s expression hardened, but he mounted. Lykos slapped Sophia’s horse on the flank and the animal happily headed away from the noise of the market. But she pulled up, looking back at Lykos.
“He’s right. We have to leave.” Bion sounded disgusted as he pulled his purple-tinted glasses out and put them on. “He’ll never leave Decima, and we’re too easy to spot.” He didn’t like it, but he nodded and jerked his head toward the road. “Let’s go home, Sophia.”
She was sure four words had never sounded so sweet and at the same time so final. She gave the horse its freedom and soon they were leaving a trail of dust behind them. Prince Afanasi’s house diminished as they rode hard toward the air station.
Mary Wine Page 23
