“Uncle, you are placing far more faith in me than I have in myself,” she muttered. Oscar screeched in reply. “I know, Oscar, it’s your bedtime. I’m sorry it is so loud and bright in here.” She took off her green jacket, reveling a tasteful back corset and frilly blouse, then placed it over the cage. “That should help, at least with the light.” The owl’s protests grew less, and Cordelia could hear the soft clicking of his mechanical wing. “I hope bringing you along was the right choice. I’m afraid I’m not suited to the life of adventure the way Uncle Degory is. I find this whole ordeal most distressing.” Tucking away her travel papers, she continued, more to herself than to the sleepy owl, “However, we must press on. Spit spot, no more dallying, girl.”
To her surprise, she found her transport quickly and without delay. The aetherport was efficient and well signed. A large steam powered lift hissed and hummed as it brought her and a dozen other passengers with their belongings up to the level where her aethership was moored. Though enclosed by metal grating, the open air design of the lifts gave Cordelia another bout of nausea and the girl wondered if air travel would ever agree with her. Porters again came and took her trolly of luggage, though just as before she kept Oscar’s cage and her medical bag by her side. There was a boarding ramp extending out to the idly floating steel vessel. As she crossed, a gust of wind nearly blew off her small ladies top hat. Awkwardly clutching at it and her bag at the same time, she looked over the side and reeled at what she saw. She was at least five hundred feet above the atrium below, with the whole of Croydon being some three thousand feet above London. Gritting her teeth, she pushed onward until the relative security of the transport’s cabin was reached.
The interior of the aethership was spacious with ample seating and a small cafe that was doing its best to look as though it had been relocated from the streets of Paris. Cordelia received a few odd looks due to the jacket-covered birdcage but paid them no heed. She was simply grateful Degory had purchased a first class ticket that offered a small drawing room which allowed a measure of privacy unheard of down on the steerage class level. Though the trip to Sherwood Isle was only a day, Cordelia would use this time to familiarize herself with the abundance of information Uncle Degory had placed into that envelope, and the drawing room would shield her from any unwanted scrutiny. In that envelope were dossiers and photographs of the crew of this ‘Kingship’ she was instructed to locate. There was also a substantial amount of money, travel documents, and oddly, her deceased grandmother’s pocket watch. The envelope also contained several photographs of the Kingship itself. She was by no means an expert on aethercraft, but this vessel truly looked to be kingly and she guessed it would not be difficult to spot, even from a distance. Additionally, there were specifications to machinery that was wholly unfamiliar to her mechanically educated mind, some of which looked to be built into the Kingship itself. She hoped she would be able to not only figure it out, but convince the captain, a Vance Williams according to the files, to build this strange machinery on his ship. Finally, there was the specialized pocket watch she had built for Degory all those months ago. The letter specified its continued, rhythmic countdown represented the return of the Temporal Accelerator along with its disturbing passenger and cargo. Cordelia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. There was so much more for her to worry about than there had been a few short days ago. Previous to Uncle’s visit, her biggest concern had been working on a research paper for the hospital. Now, according to Degory, his very rescue, possibly even the fate of the world, could be determined by her actions. Still, she thought, she had done a pretty good job thus far. She had escaped the brutish thug who was guarding her, hid out, albeit in style, at the Great Northern hotel for a few days, and finally slipped away unnoticed. She smiled; maybe a life of adventure would grow on her. She certainly was off to a commendable start and was excited to tell Degory of her adventures when she finally rescued him. And rescue him she would, no matter what fears she may have to face in the process. Feeling good about things for the first time in days, Cordelia Cady treated herself to some coffee and a croissant from the onboard cafe, and settled in for a day of study with a healthy a mix of fear, concern, and excitement for the road which lay ahead.
Chapter XV
“I’m very sorry, sir,” explained the stuffy concierge. “But we do not have a registered guest under the name of Degory Priest.”
“Are you positive?” asked Vance. “We were supposed to meet him a few days ago but were delayed. Perhaps he has already checked out?”
The concierge looked across the desk at Vance and Afa with a disinterested annoyance as he flipped back throughout the pages of the Locksley and Marion Hotel’s register. The Kingship had arrived at the upland of Sherwood Isle two days ago and in that time had received no communication from their client, Degory Priest. As they and their vessel had been selected by name for the scientist’s work, Vance had assumed he would have been aware of the Kingship’s arrival. It had been made clear in no uncertain terms in Germany that they were to get here as quickly as possible. Vance considered himself a fairly patient man under most circumstances, but found he was a little irritated with the present situation, having burned more coal and pushed his ship faster than apparently was necessary. Afa, as always, took unexpected events in stride, reminding the captain not to judge too rashly until he had more information.
“No,” the concierge went on. “There is no mention of the name you speak for the past several weeks, sir. Will that be all?” He finished his sentence with an abrupt closing of the register, its dull thud echoing through the posh, well-to-do lobby. A few well dressed patrons lazily looked their way, and turned back to their own devices with looks of bored derision. Though Vance and especially Afa were dressed as gentlemen, their level of fashion was apparently not up to the standards of the guests or the concierge, as if they had arrived at Ascot’s opening day wearing the wrong colored waistcoat.
“Thank you,” Vance replied with a slight edge. “You’ve been ever so helpful.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
With what was obviously a thinly veiled dismissal, the concierge returned to other duties. Vance and Afa promptly left the swanky hotel and walked out into the late afternoon air that carried both the smell of the ocean and the gray threat of rain. A steam trolley chugged past, one of many that provided transportation on the upland. Vance noted there were first class, second class, and working class cars for the various types of people that lived on, had business in, or visited Sherwood Isle. The cars were clearly marked, and even if they had not been, the difference of comfort and maintenance bespoke the division of class even louder.
“Robin Hood would be so proud,” Vance decreed, observant of the irony that this upland, before the Great Calamity, was the very Sherwood forest where the British hero once robbed from the rich and gave to the poor.
Afa added, “It is odd, a land once devoted to such freedom has become so divided.”
“Class division has always existed, and probably always will,” Vance replied. “I imagine it’s more obvious here as this is easily the largest upland with such proximity to London. People first came here for a new start. Eventually, the upper class began turning it into their playground. That’s why so much trade and shipping occurs here. Sherwood Isle imports almost everything, even water at times. That drives the prices here up and keeps the poor quarter poor.”
Afa frowned, “It seems unfair.”
“That’s because it is.”
Returning to the subject at hand, Afa asked, “What would you like to do now, Fekitoa?”
Vance paused for a moment before replying, “I don’t really know. This covers all of the nicer hotels on the isle. Burd hasn’t come back yet though I’m not surprised. He was going to check out the seedier areas but those are all on the other side of Sherwood. I don’t expect him back until dark, with or without any news.”
“Do you think he will find Dr. Priest?”
“I doubt it, though of course I can’t be sure. From the information we have, this Degory seemed to be a well respected gentleman. I assumed he would have been in this area of Sherwood.”
“Do you want to keep searching, Captain?” Afa asked.
Vance rubbed his chin, “No, I don’t really see a point. I’ve put some feelers out with some contacts I have. I suppose we could stop by the constable’s office on the way back to the ship just to make sure he hasn’t been involved in a crime. Again, I doubt much will come of it.”
Afa nodded, “It’s nearly suppertime. Should we bring anything back to the ship?”
“Are you not in the mood for cooking tonight, my friend?”
“That’s not it at all,” the large Polynesian replied. “I just know you have frequented this isle many times and I am positive you know the best places to go.”
Vance laughed out loud. It was true, wherever his travels took him, Vance always looked for the unique food, drink, and activities of the area, and his crew had come to rely on the experience of his wanderlust to enrich their journeyings. “Well,” he began. “Archer Lane has some great shops and restaurants. I know of a great chocolatier and a little spot that sells wonderful fish and chips. They use Guinness in their batter.”
“Wingnut will appreciate that.”
“I’m sure she will. Until Burd returns, there is little more we can do to find Degory Priest anyway. Fish and chips for dinner and some of the best chocolate in England for dessert it is then. Good thinking, Afa!”
Chapter XVI
After a morning spent once again perusing Uncle Degory’s notes, Cordelia had dozed off in her private drawing room. The young doctor had spent several days in her suite at the Great Northern practically committing them to memory. It was only the glare of the late afternoon sun peering briefly between gray clouds that finally brought her out of a fitful slumber, one which had been plagued with images of the distress she had undergone throughout the past week. Brushing the wrinkles out of her dress, she emerged from her room to find there were only a handful of passengers to be found in her first class area. At the moment, there weren't any stewards to be found. She approached a young man who was drying some freshly washed teacups and saucers at the small Parisian themed cafe where she had purchased her breakfast.
“Excuse me young man,” she began. “When do we arrive at Sherwood Isle?”
The cafe worker put down a teacup and threw his damp dishtowel over his shoulder as he spoke in a rustic Cornish accent. “I’m very sorry milady, but all of the first-class passengers got off an ‘af hour ago. Right now we coming up on another stop for Sherwood, but I wouldn’t recommend you gettin’ off ‘ere, no ma’am.”
“Why do you say that?” Cordelia asked.
The young man continued, “This stop ‘ere is the workers town. Spots can be a bit rough after dark, if you don’t know where to go.” He eyed her attire and perplexed expression on her face. “Which, I’m gatherin’, if I may, you don’t.”
Cordelia thanked the young man and returned to her room where she paced nervously. She considered talking to the aethership’s captain but, in all honesty, felt like a silly little girl doing so. Besides, she had no way of knowing his disposition, whether or not he would be willing to acquiesce and help a lady in need. Nor did she have much time to consider her options as the vessel was coming in to dock at that very moment. Feeling the need to move on with her adventure and help her uncle, Cordelia decided to press on. It took great effort and a healthy dose of humility to get all of her luggage down to the steerage level amid the curious looks of the other passengers. Several ‘salt of the earth’ men helped her carry her belongings off the ship which had docked at the very edge of the isle. Crossing the gangway she looked down. The edge of the upland was caught in the orange sunlight, illuminating the rock-face. Thousands of feet below lay the open ocean. She had overheard earlier the upland typically was out to sea this time of year. Gripping the rail tightly to keep from swooning, Cordelia quickly crossed. After tipping the men, she paused to catch her breath, leaning on her pile of suitcases. Oscar was awake, screeching in protest at once again being jostled around.
“Oh, dear,” the girl panted. She was finding it difficult to breathe in the high altitude and found even the slight exertion of walking off the transport and organizing her baggage to be most tiresome. Of course as a doctor, Cordelia was familiar with altitude sickness. It was a common malady for those who traveled to the aether infrequently. For her, who had never been higher than the Cliffs of Dover, the thin air was beginning to take its toll. Reaching into her medical bag, Cordelia retrieved two aspirin and choked them down without water. With only a few hours till sunset, she felt the need to get her bearings. Looking around, Cordelia noted so far Sherwood Isle was not at all what she had been expecting. It was noisy, dirty, and reminded the young doctor of the undesirable areas of London a proper lady such as herself best avoid. She knew several people, respectable people from the hospital and other circles, who often vacationed here. They spoke of the beautifully cultivated gardens that ran through pristine sections of Sherwood Forest, wonderful historic attractions such as the Major Oak, and resorts catering to one’s every whim. Cordelia imagined that, had she gotten off at her proper stop, she would have found the picturesque Sherwood Isle she had expected.
Having caught much of her breath, Cordelia realized she had an immediate problem. When her luggage had been carried off the transport, there had been no porters nor hand trolleys to meet her. She had far too many bags and cases, not to mention Oscar, to manage without one. She couldn’t even enlist any help from those on the transport as the gangway had already been removed and the aethership was in motion, black smoke billowing from its stacks as it began the return trip to London. A few other vessels were moored along the edge of the upland but it took no more than a cursory glance for Cordelia to know that none of them were the Kingship. The photos of the vessel provided by Degory showed it to be a truly beautiful aethership while the ones here looked more like the abode of pirates and other ruffians. She could see some bobbies off in the distance, but was hesitant to leave her belongings to push her way through the crowds and ask for assistance. The departure of the transport, along with her new uncomfortable and unfamiliar surroundings, made the inexperienced traveler realize just how alone she was. Right as she was about to surrender to the hopelessness of her situation, Cordelia was approached by a handsomely dressed older gentleman.
“Excuse me, Miss,” the man said. “It looks to me you are in some distress. Might I offer any assistance?”
Cordelia looked at the man who was clearly a gentleman and felt a surge of relief. “Oh, thank you, kind sir!” she replied, returning to her comfortable air of civility. “I seem to have gotten off at the wrong stop and I am quite lost.”
“The man replied, “I should say so! You look to be on holiday. If that’s the case, then I imagine you want the other side of Sherwood Isle. Right now you’re in Worker’s Quarter.”
“I gathered,” she admitted.
The man removed his straw derby hat and gave a bow, “The name’s Corbin, Jonathan T. Corbin. At your service.”
Cordelia gave a small curtsy, “Cordelia Cady, Mr. Corbin. I admit, I was pondering as to my next move when you approached. If your schedule permits, would you be so kind as to point me in the direction I should go? I also need some way to transport my luggage.”
“My dear,” the older gentleman stated. “I would not be able to sleep tonight if I did not get you to your destination personally.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out sir,” Cordelia stated but then hesitantly added, “but I really do need your help. I’m trying to locate a vessel by the name of Kingship, but looking around I daresay it is not to be located in this area of Sherwood.”
“Then it’s settled!” he exclaimed, taking her arm in his. “The trolley service runs to all of the major areas in Sherwood. I shall escort you personally!” He
motioned with his free hand and two other less well dressed men approached. One of them had his hand wrapped tightly in some bandages “This is Mathias and Todd, two of my factory employees. They will see to your luggage.”
“Your hand, sir,” Cordelia asked, “Are you injured?”
“Um, it’s nothing, m’lady,” the one introduced as Todd said. “Just a small accident earlier today.”
“It certainly doesn’t look like nothing, sir. I’m a physician, let me look at it.”
“We are here to rescue you, my dear Ms. Cady, not to put you to work,” said Mr. Corbin. “Besides, the steam trolley is approaching. We must see to your luggage and get aboard.”
“Of course, but the journey across Sherwood will allow ample time to see to your associate’s injury.”
Holding on to her medical bag, which also contained Uncle Degory’s envelope, Cordelia surrendered the rest of her luggage to Mathias and Todd in order to walk with this unassuming, helpful, older gentleman. She told him she was meeting some respectable business associates on the Kingship she had mentioned, which Mr. Corbin believed he could help her locate. As they boarded the first class car of the steam powered trolly bound for the other side of Sherwood Isle, Cordelia could not help but feel excited, despite the altitude sickness.
Chapter XVII
Burd adjusted the collar of his grimy long coat, effectively hiding his much nicer garb underneath. He had been looking for Degory Priest all day, and while he had started his search in a less well-to-do area than Vance and Afa had, his search had eventually led him into even rougher quarters of the large upland and he felt the need to dress down for the occasion. When the need arose, he was not above a little petty theft, though he was always extremely selective regarding those from whom he was willing to pilfer. The coat and top hat he acquired were from an arrogant business man, one who was clearly in love with his own importance. Burd had observed him for a few minutes from a distance as he verbally berated his workers. The miserable look of them, combined with the awful conditions of the man’s factory, contrasted heavily against his polished shoes and expensive cigar. When he laid his hat and coat down and turned his back, Burd made his move. Silently walking by with the casualness that comes from years of trained sneaking, he took both garments and disappeared into a back alley. There, he dragged the coat through the mud a few times and beat it soundly against a brick wall, making it look far older and used. After doing the same to the top hat, he had donned his new disguise, and, with a little judicious application of dirt to the face, Cornelius Burd now looked as if he had lived in Worker's Quarter his whole life. An empty wine bottle found in the alley and a slight stagger completed the transformation. Now that he was in the poorer sections, he wished he had brought a few of his small, handmade toys with him, as he was sure he would see children whose day he could brighten. His only other regret now was after several hours in this disguise, the cloying smell of the man’s cigar smoke imbued into the fabric was beginning to get to him, as was the smell of stale beer in the common room of the run down hotel he now found himself. A greasy barkeep was answering his questions politely enough. After all, money can always buy some temporary friends.
Brotherhood of the Strange (Kingship, Tales from the Aether Book 1) Page 12
