“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Dashwood said as he stowed his purse. “I think there is a card game with my name on it round here.” He patted the amulet around his neck. “As long as you stay away, I should be fine.”
“Just don’t gamble away the ship again, Captain,” Elle called after him.
He spread his arms in a slightly theatrical gesture “What do you take me for? It is you, my dear Mrs. Marsh, who should take care not to get into any trouble.”
“Me?” She mimicked his gesture. “Never.”
Dashwood stepped closer and looked down at her. “I mean it. Please don’t get involved in any Shadow business while we are here, all right? I really don’t want to have to come and drag you out of a mess when I’m half drunk and holding a winning hand. Do I make myself clear?”
Elle swallowed. Dashwood’s proximity made her feel rather uncomfortable. “I promise, I will be as quiet as a mouse. No one will even know I am here,” she said.
“That’s my girl.” Dashwood’s voice was suddenly softer, less harsh.
Elle cleared her throat and stepped back. “Why, Captain, if you carry on in this manner, I will seriously start to think that you care about me,” she said.
Dashwood tipped his fedora and gave her a smile. “Just guarding my investment, Mrs. Marsh. See you later.” With that, he turned and headed off down one of the side streets.
For the first time in what seemed like an age, Elle found herself completely at liberty to do as she pleased. The sudden sense of freedom felt strangely wonderful indeed.
She thought with a pang about her father and Mathilda. News of her disappearance must have reached them by now. Were they looking for her? Surely they must be anxious for news of her. Sadly, the price for secrecy was the fact that Tiger City had no post offices or telegraph lines, so apart from leaving a letter behind the counter with one of the taverns in the hope that someone might pick it up and post it on the way, there was no way she could send a message to anyone at home that she was alive. The risk that someone might read the letter and she might be discovered was too great. It was not a chance she could take right now. Not with that thing tracking her. And besides, Angkor Wat was in her sights now. She would have to wait until they reached another port.
So instead, she wandered around the ramshackle market that filled the narrow lanes and spread out into the open spaces. Here one could buy almost anything imaginable. She stopped and admired a selection of silver cutlery with their insignias filed off. To Elle the tableware looked suspiciously like it had been looted off a passenger ship.
The next stall held skeins of velvet in every color and she was sorely tempted to buy some, were it not for the inconvenience of transporting it back home.
In the next lane she bought a cup of frozen gelato, almost as delicious as the type one could buy in Venice. The next stall sold all manner of leather goods, and she found a rather fetching jerkin to wear over her corset. Since her promotion, she had packed away her overalls and had reverted to her jodhpurs and leather coat, but she still sometimes caught some of the crew staring at the leather corset she wore over her shirt. The jerkin would also be handy when it got really cold. She had found herself shivering while walking the gangways late at night.
It was strange, but here in Tiger City no one seemed to give her outlandish choice in clothing a second glance. In fact, she even spotted one or two lady pirates wandering about, dressed like men. Elle did not approach them or acknowledge them, but somehow, knowing that she was not completely alone was just about the nicest thing she had encountered in quite some time.
Eventually she got bored with the market and decided to find somewhere to sit. The warm afternoon sun was setting and an icy wind nipped at her as it whispered through the buildings. She shivered and ducked into a little tavern.
Inside, it smelled like roasting meat and apricots and cinnamon. “What will it be, miss?” the tavern keeper asked.
“Could I have a small brandy?” she asked. “Something to warm me from the inside. And say, do you sell food?”
“Indeed we do, miss. What can I get you?” the tavern keeper said. “We have some excellent roast goat.”
“Then I shall try it,” Elle said.
“A small brandy?” a man at the counter beside her said with mock outrage. “What kind of a pirate are you?” he guffawed. “Give the girl a proper drink, will you?”
The tavern keeper grinned and tipped more of the drink into the glass in front of Elle.
“Salty Ben’s the name,” the man said. He was a short, grizzly-looking fellow in a tricolor hat so ancient that it was impossible to guess what its original color had been. He stuck out his hand in order to introduce himself.
“Eleanor.” Elle shook his hand.
He narrowed his eyes as he studied her face. “You have pretty hair,” he said, casting a glance at her head.
“Thank you.” Elle took a sip of her brandy and turned away slightly in an attempt to end the conversation, but Salty Ben seemed intent on maintaining the discussion.
He studied her more closely. “Say, you seem different from the other women here.”
“That’s because I am a pilot,” she said.
Ben looked her over again. “No, it’s more than that. Something not quite right about you.” He narrowed his eyes and stared at her intently.
“I’m sure you must be mistaken,” Elle said quickly.
Just then, the tavern keeper slid a plate full of roast meat and flatbreads before her.
“Thank you,” she said as she handed him a coin.
“Hmm, looks good,” Salty Ben said, peering into her plate.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Elle gave him a little smile. She picked up her plate and drink and slid off her high chair. She spotted a free seat at the very end of a low rectangular table. No one seemed to object to her sitting there so Elle set down her plate and sat down.
Opposite her, an old-timer was telling a story of drunken ribaldry involving the very first air balloons flown over the Crimea.
She half listened as she ate her dinner, which was, as the tavern keeper has promised, quite delicious. As she ate, her thoughts turned to the navigational charts she had left on her table back on the bridge. In order to reach Angkor the Inanna was going to have to cross some rather treacherous airspace and it would be up to her to make sure that they did not go off course.
Elle was so engrossed in her own thoughts she did not notice that the old-timer had changed stories. Or that everyone in the tavern was listening intently.
“… I’m telling you, this happened just the other week … I was there—I saw it with my own two eyes. The man just walked into the Mermaid and dropped a bag of gold on the table. Coins spilling out on to the floor and everywhere,” the man opposite her was saying.
“Get out of here,” a second one said.
“Nope. Said he was some fancy lord or summat.”
“And then?”
“Ah, this is the best bit. After he threw coins at everyone, he announced that he would pay a hundred thousand English pounds to the man who brought him the girl. Insisted that she had to be alive and kicking.”
The men around the storyteller howled with delight.
“A hundred thousand pounds! Who in their right mind gives away a hundred thousand pounds?”
“Crazy rich men!” the first crowed. “But I swear on my life as I sit here, that’s what he said.”
“So who is this girl then?”
“I don’t know the name. Said she had red hair. Said something about a shadow, but I was too busy getting me share of the coins.” The man who had spoken wiped his lips, which had become shiny with spittle. “And the best bit is—after he made the grand announcement, he disappeared. Poof! Went up in a cloud of smoke like a circus magician.”
“Ah, he was a conman and he was just having a lark,” one of the men said. “I bet you there’s no money to be had.”
The old-timer shook his head. “No, he was completely
serious, I tell you. I saw the gold for myself. Tell you what, though. I’d love to see the look on that mad French geezer’s face if someone did show up with a girl at his house. What would he do then?”
There was another round of raucous laughter followed by numerous lewd comments about Frenchmen.
“Well, go and find yourself a redhead and claim your prize!” someone shouted. “I’m sure there’s more than one or two for hire round here.”
Elle sat frozen at the spot. Her dinner had turned to sawdust in her mouth. She wanted to ask more, but she was too afraid to attract any attention to herself. Suddenly, Old Jack’s warning about finding someone in the realm of Light to protect her made sense.
Slowly she put down her fork with a growing sense of apprehension. If there was anyone in this world who had the money for a ransom that high, it would be Patrice Chevalier.
She downed the last of her brandy and set aside her plate. Careful not to attract any attention to herself, she gathered her things and rose.
“Hey, where you going?” Salty Ben said as he popped up next to her.
“Have to go now. Sorry I can’t stay to chat,” she said as she slipped past him and headed for the door.
“Wait! Come back!” he said, but she was out the door before he could stop her.
Once outside, she stepped into the first alley she could find. Hidden by the chilly shadows cast by the side of the building, she rested her back against the wall. She forced herself to take deep breaths, willing the manic hammering of her heart inside her chest to slow.
So Patrice had set a bounty for her capture. She would have to be very careful.
But first she needed reinforcements. Just in case.
Carefully, she traced her steps back through the market until she found the spot where Dashwood had left her.
At the end of the alleyway she saw the lights of one of the gambling houses. She ran down the passageway and slipped in through the doors. Inside, the place was lit with little spark lamps. People were sitting round velvet-covered tables, hunched over their cards. To the side, was a baccarat table and by the sounds of things, a lively game of dice was underway. This was as good a place as any to start her search, she surmised.
A few men looked up when Elle entered but soon went back to what they were doing.
This was definitely Dashwood’s kind of place, but a glance around the room told her that he was not here.
She slipped out the door on the other side of the room. The door, as it turned out, led into a hallway with a set of stairs. She heard a soft giggle and looked up. Above her, two half-dressed girls were leaning against the balustrade, chatting.
Yes, this was definitely her captain’s kind of place. Of course the card house would be attached to a brothel. Of course it would.
The hall and landing were draped in swaths of red velvet. Beside her was a yucca palm tree in a brass bucket.
She felt the back of her neck prickle with apprehension. Carefully she opened the door to the card house a little, just as she saw the shaggy tricolor of Salty Ben enter.
He scanned the card room, the expression on his face turning to a scowl. He was definitely following her. Of that she was sure.
Escape through the card house was now impossible. The only way was up. Hopefully she’d find an open window or something to climb out of. As quietly as she could, Elle made her way up the stairs, trying not to let the fall of her boots echo too much on the stone slabs of the steps.
Behind her, she heard voices. It was Salty Ben arguing with someone downstairs. A woman joined them, loudly protesting the fact that only paying customers were allowed.
At the top of the stairs Elle ducked behind the balustrade and listened. When they saw her, the two half-dressed girls stopped talking. They gave her a wary look. Elle lifted her finger to her lips, imploring them to say nothing.
To her relief, the bond of universal sisterhood prevailed. The girls nodded, linked arms and disappeared into one of the rooms. Elle heard the distinct sound of a lock turning in the door. Well, the bond of universal sisterhood prevailed up to a point, she thought.
Below her, the voices were raised now. The door slammed and she heard Salty Ben stride toward the stairs, with the woman chattering loudly behind him. She needed to find a better hiding place and quickly too.
Behind her, more velvet draped the walls of the landing and the corridor too. In the distance she could hear a woman moan accompanied by the sounds of beds creaking, that could only be one thing. Slipping into one of these rooms was out of the question. Walking in on someone in that situation was likely to cause more noise than it was worth.
The voices were now at the foot of the staircase.
No, the hallway would have to do. As quietly as she could, Elle ducked behind the nearest swath of velvet. She dropped the fabric behind her and, as she turned, she let out a small squeak of surprise as she collided headfirst into a solid wall of chest muscle. Her hiding place was already occupied, it seemed. And when she looked up, she found herself staring into the startled face of none other than Captain Dashwood.
They stood, chest to chest in the half-light for a few moments while they both recovered from the shock.
“Why, Mrs. Marsh,” Dashwood drawled. “We appear to be lurking in the same dark corners this evening.”
“Shh!” She put her finger to her lips. “I think someone is following me.”
“Are they now?” Dashwood arched an enquiring eyebrow at her. “Well that’s rather inconvenient, isn’t it?”
Elle moved until her back touched the wall so as to put as much distance between her and the captain as possible, but the space available had its limitations.
“Captain, are you drunk?” she whispered.
“I might be.” He swayed as he spoke.
Elle grabbed hold of him to stop him from falling out of their hiding place and she felt his arms go round her. He was a surprisingly strong and solid man, even when a little squiffy, she realized.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, well, things went really well at the card tables, but not so well with the ladies.” Dashwood closed his eyes a little. “I fear I may have upset a few of them. So now I’m laying low till the coast is clear.” He swayed a little and Elle grabbed hold of him to stop him from falling out of their hiding place. As they moved she felt his arms go round her. He was surprisingly strong and solid, even when a little squiffy, she realized.
“Well, this is rather nice,” he said, leaning into her.
“No it’s not. Keep quiet before they find us.”
“Perhaps I should step out of here and see who dares to harass a member of my crew,” he said. “What do you think? Shall I show them a thing or two?” She felt his hand go to the place on his belt where he normally carried his pistol. He dropped his hand to his side when he realized that the holster was empty and started laughing. It was a deep sound that reverberated through her.
“Be quiet. This is not funny,” she hissed.
She reached up and started unlacing the top of her corset. There, just inside the laces, was the secret pocket that held the small stiletto she always carried. Not even the bottom-slapping guard had dared to look down her front, she thought with no small measure of satisfaction.
“Why, Mrs. Marsh,” Dashwood said in a low voice, which was still far too loud. “You naughty, naughty girl.”
“Please, Captain, be still,” she whispered.
“Now, that is impressive,” he said as his gaze drifted to her exposed cleavage while she pulled the blade out.
“Not even I am brave enough to bring a blade in here. Also, very impressive hiding place,” he said, nodding at her cleavage.
“Captain! Be quiet.” She gave him a little shake. “You need to sober up before we are both caught. This is not a game. I am in serious trouble here,” she whispered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She could feel his amusement radiating from him.
The sound of boot steps on the t
iles silenced them both. Elle put her hand over the captain’s face before he could make another sound. “Be. Quiet,” she mouthed at him. To her immense relief he remained still, his arms still securely around her.
The footsteps were much closer now. She could hear the creak of leather and the jingle of buckles as her pursuer moved along. He too was trying to walk as quietly as possible.
Elle gripped her stiletto holding it at the ready.
A dark break in the strip of light that glowed at the bottom of the velvet appeared. Moments ticked by with exaggerated slowness as they waited in silence.
Then, Salty Ben dragged the fabric away. He grinned at her. “Ha! Got you n—” he started to say, but he never managed to finish his sentence. Instead, his eyes grew wide in shock as Elle drove the stiletto into his chest.
Salty Ben gasped as the blade sank into his heart, and then he fell to the ground, dead as a doornail.
“Oh dear,” Dashwood said, looking down at the dead man, leaking blood on the carpet at their feet. “That is not good.”
Elle stared at the body, horrified at what she had just done.
“Mrs. Marsh, I would strongly recommend we leave this place,” Dashwood slurred next to her. “On account of the fact that I really don’t want to be hanged tonight.”
“Right,” Elle said as she untangled herself from his embrace. “This way,” she said, as they both took flight down the stairs, out the side door and into the alleyway.
Behind them, a woman screamed and people started shouting.
“Run!” Dashwood said next to her. The cold fright of murder and the sprint down the stairs had almost sobered him up. He grabbed Elle’s hand, dragging her along as they ran.
Behind them, a bell started tolling. Men were running through the streets, raising the alarm. There was only one rule in Tiger City and breaking it spelt immediate death.
“They’re closing the gates!” Elle said as they rounded a corner and caught sight of the entrance to the city.
Sky Pirates Page 18
