“Magic. Some wizard tried some hocus pocus that went awry. I believe the way of it was something like a human and animal being combined into one.”
Simon regarded the Captain in surprise.
“In fact,” he continued, “I had originally thought myself a special case, but just recently I found another like me.” He replaced his watch, eyes smiling above a rather stoic looking beak. “It’s always a lovely surprise to know you’re not alone in the world, isn’t it?”
Simon nodded, preoccupied for the moment with an idle thought. “But why would a…‘Cardinal’ man need a dirigible in the first place? Can’t you just fly?”
The Captain laughed. “I’m afraid I got hooked on scones in the last war.” The man chortled. “Too fat to fly, and really, I’m not sure I have enough feathers to really give enough lift anyway.”
The conversation seemed over after that, as the birdman pivoted on his brass bucked heel in the opposite direction. Simon desperately hoped he hadn’t unintentionally offended him.
“In either case, tell you’re compatriots to be in the engine room tomorrow morning. Can’t have too many idle guests on board else my aircraft will grow too heavy as well.” He lifted a feathered finger, wiggling it in what Simon assumed a gesture of goodbye.
“Yes.” Simon nodded.
“Have a good journey now, Sir.”
“I shall,” Mr. Todd replied, a bit confused but mostly relieved.
That meant, to Simon’s secret delight, that whilst Jane and Dick were down working in the engine room most mornings, Simon was allowed the company of both young ladies and the freedom to do as he pleased.
* * *
“I think I’ll go up deck,” Simon said a few days after, pulling his head back in through the porthole window and coughing up the rush of oxygen he had forcefully inhaled. Miss Hershal was already tromping around in her boots. She looked much more refined now her clothes had been washed and her hair combed, though perhaps she did not entirely meet the expectation of the room’s usual breed of occupant in elegance or luxury.
“Think I’ll ‘ave me a look meself,” she said, going to one of the polished mahogany end tables at either end of the room to fetch an apple. “A few of the lads below have been talkin’ up a poker game.”
Simon frowned as she took a bite, looking past her in a moment of thought.
Their accommodations were extraordinary. Two large beds sat at either side of the room, one with a curtained canopy and one probably meant for children. They were both adorned in thick, red blankets, smooth and warm, and a plethora of plush, cotton pillows. Simon had graciously offered the smaller bed to Jane and Mr. Dashing to share, on account that they would be working for the entire voyage. The girls of course bunked together, utilizing the privacy of the curtain as they slept to ensure there wasn’t any male witness to wardrobe malfunctions. Simon Todd, well he made do with the decorated chaise lounge in the center, despite often waking up on the floor when his body inevitably went through it in the night. Oftentimes he found himself sharing the space with Lucifer, to his chagrin.
There were numerous other items of furniture as well. Pillowed chairs set before a small dining table, bookshelves equipped with books, to Jane’s delight in the evening, as well as two portholes and a large window in the center of the room to provide light.
Simon left the one he had been gawking out of open as he shook his head, picking up the ledger he had been scribbling in the last few days from a small desk by the wall.
“Remember we are billing all we spend to your father,” Simon lectured, moving towards the door. “Every expense has to be written down, so if you’re taking out a loan you best tell me beforehand.”
Fae waved her hand, taking another hearty bite from the apple as she followed after him. “I’ve a few coin on me, I’ll ‘ave ya know! Won it the other day in fact.”
“After losing how much?” Simon retrieved his pen from the pocket of his coat for emphasis. Fae rolled her eyes.
“I’ll let ya know, ya bloody bookie!”
Simon sniffed, opening the door opposite the large window. The Bichon Frise asleep on the girls’ bed picked up his head and yawned. Mr. Todd tried to close it before it had a chance to run after him, but the lively doggie was faster and more determined. Simon sighed as it barked, sticking its tongue out at him as if in reproach.
Together the two persons, and one cheerful dog, climbed to the deck, passing a few individuals as they went. Everyone on this level seemed a bit too stuffy for good Miss Hershal, but she insisted most rich folk were like that. “‘Cept me!” she argued. “S’why me pops leaves me behind when he’s got business meetings.”
Simon figured Fae didn’t mind that one bit. However, despite whether or not the fellow passengers were stuffy or not, Simon smiled as he passed by, and his gesture was often returned.
“Miss Baxter upstairs, too?” Fae asked.
Simon hadn’t spoken alone with Miss Baxter since they were all reunited in Morningwood. He wasn’t really sure what he thought of that, either.
“She mentioned so,” Simon confirmed, already feeling a bit weary of manifesting his body enough to hold the weight of the ledger. “Probably having a late breakfast.”
It was four days since they left Fallfield now. They were expected to arrive tomorrow, weather permitting. Ebonguard was due south, close to the Drayce desert and was expected to be dry as sawdust. Though normally quite nice in spring, now that summer was at the door, loads of yellow dust coated the city in a sickly mustard. Smog from the various factories of the city, combined with dust blown north from prevailing winds, meant the air quality was not in its peak condition. At the moment, the patrons aboard the Cardinal were relatively unaffected, but Simon heard from some of the other passengers that once they got within several hundred kilometers of the city, it would be evident at bath time when you went to wash your face and the cloth came back filthy.
“Well, ‘ave yourself a fun time countin’ numbers will ya?” Fae laughed.
Simon shook his head, certain that she had said something more but unaware of what it was. “You too, Miss Hershal,” he called back with a wave.
Though the inflated portion of the Cardinal was massive, the boat was a relatively comfortable size. For an airship, it was one of the largest, but in reality only accommodated a modest seventeen to twenty passengers. That included rooms of course, both big and small, as well as a kitchen, dining area and recreation room. The deck was large as well, but it was easy to see from end to end.
A few men were already lounging at one table, obviously the gentleman Fae had described, as Simon could see them already holding cards. Most looked spiffy in pressed suits and groomed moustaches, Simon noticed. Miss Baxter was on deck as well, holding her crook in one hand as she peered off into the fat, fluffy clouds frothing about the skyline, down towards the Helvallyn Hills that rose out of the earth like the jagged edge of an arrowhead. Simon thought about going to join her, but shook off the notion, walking towards the aft and sitting down on the deck instead.
Opening his ledger and setting his pen on the floor above it, Simon sighed as his body quickly let go of its corporeal manifestation. He did feel rather silly sitting cross-legged on the floor, fingering through the pages and occasionally picking up his pen to quickly scribble something down while perfectly good seating surrounded him. But sitting on a chair for a prolonged period was tiring, and Simon much preferred an odd look to keeping face and having to go to bed extra early afterward.
Explaining the situation to his companions had been easy enough, to his reprieve. As Fae had said, “So you’re just…more of a ghosty now?” That was apparently the long and short of it. Everyone had seemingly been much more interested in Miss Baxter’s affiliation with the Grim Reaper. Simon supposed he couldn’t blame them. He came after all powerful magic, demons, and then a mob boss’ fluffy Bichon Frise.
Lucifer yipped playfully as Simon rested his chin in his palm. The dog’s pink tongue lolle
d out its mouth and wiped at something it had obviously found edible still clinging to its face. Simon couldn’t touch the white-haired pooch unless he really tried, but the thing seemingly found it loads of fun to simply jump through him over and over again.
“Go away,” Simon said flatly, trying to organize the numbers in his mind. The others had quite taken to the dog after they boarded the aircraft. Miss Baxter kept it with her usually. She fed it and had patiently brushed out all the forest debris it collected within its puffy coat a few days before. Now the thing looked cloud-like itself. Simon thought it was a bother.
“I’ve work to do, so go bother someone else.” Mr. Todd swatted at it, but the dog seemed wise to Simon’s ruse and barked back idly as his hand went through ineffectively.
Simon scoffed. “Fine,” he said, looking back down towards his ledger. “But don’t make a fuss. I’ve work to do as well you know.”
Four days of sunshine made it easy to get work done, though Simon had to admit that most of his busywork was just ensuring the books were sorted correctly. He was a bit ashamed to say that he hadn’t done nearly as much work as he thought Mr. Hershal expected from him, but most of his allotted coin for work expenses had been exhausted.
“I’m sure he thought I’d be back by now as well.” Simon thought, regarding the small dog as it lounged beside him. His tail occasionally wagged through his left leg. “I’ll send a missive to him when we arrive at Ebonguard.”
Of course, the rest of the day was spent crafting that missive. Miss Baxter came over after a while to invite him to dinner down in their room, and Fae joined them both after winning back the majority she had lost over poker. As for Jane and Mr. Dashing, they were always happiest at suppertime when they didn’t have to return to the engine room.
“Supper entails the longest period of time before I am entitled to return to that terrible place and work again.” Jane closed his eyes, wiping his brow and always seemingly finding soot remaining in his hair. “I could have flown us all to Ebonguard if I had wanted.”
Mr. Dashing roared, liking the feel of a day’s work on his skin. “Well unfortunately, you weren’t savvy enough to evade those fire blasts,” he said in between mouthfuls, unaware of Mr. Darcy’s double meaning.
“Maybe if you were a better shot, I wouldn’t have had to evade anything.”
There had been a moment of contention between the two men, and the strain of the situation sat in the room like a dead elephant on the table. Simon took another glance at what looked like splendidly cooked partridge, wishing he could do more than simply stare at it, before Fae waved her fork in her face.
“Aye! Don’t be feelin’ cross at one another fer ‘aving to work! You could always be worse off. Mr. Todd ain’t got nothin’ to do but haunt the place all day, after all.”
Simon’s eyes grew wider at the implication of him doing nothing while the others slaved away day in day out. “Y-yes!” he added. “It’s rather sad, I’d say. Sleeping on the floor, can’t even hold a cup of tea without getting tired.”
Fae laughed. Despite it all, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Dashing seemed to sober.
“You’re right!” Dashing slammed his fork in the center of the cooked bird and took a bite that Simon considered altogether too big to be polite. “Besides,” he said with his mouth full, “all a part of the adventure.”
“I prefer the part where the good guy gets his gold and chases all the hooligans away,” Jane said as he stood, smiling despite his moodiness and going over to the shelf to grab a book.
Miss Baxter chuckled.
Dashing continued, “All in due time, my good man!”
Jane agreed, settling down on the chaise lounge and opening his story. “All in good time,” the scholar repeated.
The day after was much thicker with smog. As the borders of Ebonguard began to appear in patches through dense, gray cloud, so too did the weather grow drearier. Most of the passengers aboard the Cardinal stayed indoors during the morning, taking their view of the city from their chamber windows despite the visibility being relatively dismal.
Simon had moped at the window for an hour before a grand skyscraper appeared like a blade through the mist. He held his breath as the dirigible passed by and even endeavored to open the porthole, but as the yellow dust blew in, causing the other two occupants of his room to cough, Mr. Todd shut it again, thinking it was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Mr. Dashing and Jane Darcy were up from their chores earlier in the day. Having just enough time to take a bath and change, the two men were reclining in the room with Simon and the two ladies by the time Ebonguard began to materialize and the zeppelin started its descent.
The outskirts of the city were small, quaint houses with high, pointed roofs. The inner city was even more acicular. Metal and brick combined to construct the majority of the enormous infrastructure. Ribbed vaults somersaulted into high, pointed arcs supported by flying buttresses. From the air, Simon saw the Gray Train zipping along the tracks suspended on bridges above the buildings. The many steel ventilators from the city’s factories, coughing up smoke to mix in with the whirling sands, looked like curling burnt hair, where the color of the city resembled an old faded photograph glowing by firelight.
“Mr. Todd, I’m surprised you’ve never been to Ebonguard. Didn’t your parents move here years ago?”
Simon blinked, momentarily moved from his reverie as he turned to regard Miss Baxter. She was holding Lucifer in her arms, and the small dog was sleeping soundly between them.
“They did.”
“Happy days!” Dashing leaned back upon the bed, looking down the sight of his pistol. “Then we won’t have to find accommodations during our brief stay here.”
Simon felt suddenly flustered. “We’ll be staying the night?” He looked around the room. “For how long?”
“Well we’ll have to restock on a few things before heading to the find the dragon gold.” Dashing smiled. “A day or two at least.”
“Mr. Dashing, perhaps inviting such a large group into Mr. Todd’s familial home would be impolite,” Miss Baxter proposed, patting the small dog that was currently stirring in her arms. It kicked its robotic left leg outwards in an effort to readjust his seat. Penelope complied.
“You’re quite right!” Dashing sprung to his feet. “In that case, I have a small residence we can all stay at. It’s not as nice as the Milkbath, but there is less threat of mages.” He laughed. “We can all stay there while preparations are made.”
The dirigible lurched just then, causing everyone to shift slightly in order to maintain their balance. Simon rotated on his heel to look outside where the flat stage of the landing pad loomed his window.
“We’ve arrived!” he announced.
Fae stretched, yawning. “Good,” she said, stepping up from her position on the bed. “Let’s go, Mr. Darcy.” She smiled, clapping the reclining gentleman on the back and stirring him from his book. “The Cardinal won’t miss one book. Pop it in your pocket and let’s go.”
Jane smiled from his lackadaisical location on the chaise lounge. Having already decided that he would take the book whether he finished it or not, he did appreciate the young lady’s acceptance of the fact. “If you say so,” he replied, closing the hardback and readjusting his spectacles as she and Mr. Dashing began to leave.
“Let’s go, Lucifer.” Miss Baxter let the dog go to scuttle on the ground before donning a light blue mantle and grabbing her crook.
Mr. Todd smiled as they went, nodding to Mr. Darcy who waited at the door for him.
“Are you alright, Mr. Todd?” he asked.
“Rather,” Simon replied, stopping for a moment at the man’s side before passing. “To be honest however, I do feel a bit anxious.”
“I may be as well if I was about to see my parents again after a few years of neglectful visiting.” In truth, Jane had never met his father. Diamond backed, male dragons rarely stayed with the females after mating. As for his mother, he was still rather sore w
ith her ever since she ate his younger sister. He thought it utterly cruel that she would do so because of a simple deformity of her left wing.
However, Jane knew from reading that though it was common for many dragons to never see their progenitors again, in fact if Jane ever went to visit his mother she most certainly would attack him for fear of him stealing her hoard, the case was entirely different for humans. In fact, it was often anticipated for progeny to visit and expected that they would ask for coin whilst doing so. Human parents even grew cross when their offspring were derelict in their visiting responsibilities. Jane thought it quite baffling to say the least.
“I will be nice to see my mum again.” Simon smiled. “My father on the other hand…”
Jane closed the door behind them as they stepped out into the hall. “Take Miss Baxter with you. People often tend to mind themselves more when there’s company about.” Jane was proud of how astute he had become.
But Simon raised his hands. “No. That wouldn’t do. My father hates wizards.”
Jane cocked an eyebrow. “That’s uncommon, isn’t it?”
“No,” Mr. Todd said simply. “Not really.”
The Cardinal docked upon the skydecks of Hamilton Tower and took a half hour to summon the gangplanks for disembarking. The tower itself was of long, thick cylindrical construction, with an observation deck on top that resembled a bird’s cage. A few of the dirigible staff workers welcomed passengers to Ebonguard as they disembarked and directed them inside in order to claim larger luggage and parcels. Other staff recommended caution and purchase of respirators due to the recent influx of yellow dust prevalent in the surrounding area.
“It wouldn’t be Ebonguard without the smog,” Mr. Dashing observed, walking towards the large glass windows of the tower to look out and beyond. The observation area they had arrived at was spacious and immense. Decorated men and women, often wearing stylish masks, went about their business wearing uniformed tanned dusters much in fashion with Mr. Dashing’s current attire.
The Curious Case of Simon Todd Page 34
