by Karen Kincy
Jin Hua lingered by the door. “You know where to find me.”
Wendel nodded. “Go. Sleep.”
The door clicked shut with soft finality. Ardis finished washing herself. He dried her with a towel and brought her clothes.
She curled sideways on the bed, staring out the dark window. “Thank you.”
“Are you in pain anymore?”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered. “It hurts to think about.”
“I know.” He stroked her damp hair away from her face.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This wasn’t your fault.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
He let out a slow breath. “Try to sleep.”
“Not here.”
His eyebrows angled in a frown. “You want to go to the Peregrine?”
“Wendel, I don’t feel safe.”
“I don’t want you walking that far in the cold.”
“I’m not an invalid.” She glared at him. “It’s over. I don’t have to worry about the baby.” Her voice broke on the last word.
“Ardis.” His eyes glimmered. “I’m worried about you.”
She pushed herself onto her elbows. “I hate this place. I don’t want to keep thinking about what happened here.”
“Fine.” He let out a noise between a growl and a sigh. “But we’re taking a taxi.”
Seventeen
The Peregrine floated over the Hanworth Park Aerodrome, a sleek silver zeppelin whose tail fins bore the American flag. Bruised clouds hung in the night sky, dripping rain onto the slippery grass of the field. They climbed the stairs of the mooring mast, Wendel never looking down; she noted he hadn’t lost his fear of heights.
Feeling faint, Ardis stopped for a moment, gripping the cold steel of the mooring mast.
“Who captains the Peregrine?” she said.
Wendel paused, his gaze resolutely on the horizon. “Turns out Himmel needed a job, and Tesla needed a captain.”
“Tesla?”
He waved her onward, and they kept ascending the mooring mast. “The Peregrine is his latest prototype, a commercial zeppelin designed for world travelers. We flew to London to demonstrate the airship to King George.”
“What happened to the USS Jupiter?”
“Rusting in an airship shed, indefinitely, until America joins the war.”
“Until?”
He smiled without humor. “Neutrality is overrated.”
When they reached the nose of the zeppelin, a raven swooped onto the mooring mast. He landed with a thunk of talons.
“Hello, Krampus,” Wendel said.
“Grok.”
“He flew all this way?” She stroked the glossy feathers at the raven’s neck.
Wendel snorted. “Not under his own power.”
Krampus hopped onto the necromancer’s shoulder, as if to prove his own laziness. They crossed a gangway and passed through an airlock. She glanced at the duralumin skeleton of the Peregrine. The airship’s canvas skin glowed dimly in the gloom. They followed a corridor along the keel, then dropped into the gondola.
In the navigation room, they found Konstantin and Himmel huddled over a chart.
Wendel cleared his throat. “Captain. Archmage.”
“For the thousandth time, I–” Turning, Konstantin saw Ardis. “You’re back!”
She managed an exhausted smile. “How did you escape the NYPD?”
“Your mother.”
Why wasn’t she surprised? “Where is she?”
“In the mess.” Konstantin raised his eyebrows. “Insisted on dining with the crew.”
“Let me show you the way,” Himmel said.
She followed the captain. The crew’s mess had bench seating and windows overlooking the clouds. Three airmen huddled around a table, watching Jin Hua shuffle cards. When they saw Himmel, they leapt to their feet and saluted.
“At ease,” Himmel said.
The airmen relaxed. One of them asked, “Ready to depart?”
“Momentarily.”
Jin Hua stacked the cards into a tidy pile. “I got your telegram in New York.” Pretending like nothing else had happened that night.
Ardis was grateful for that small mercy. “Thank you for coming.”
“Excuse me,” Himmel said, “I’m needed in the navigation room.”
The captain saluted before exiting the mess. A moment later, Konstantin took his place, followed by Wendel, who had darkness in his eyes. The airmen slipped from the room as if detecting a storm on the horizon.
“How did you get them out of jail?” Ardis said.
“I pulled a few strings,” Jin Hua said.
Konstantin brightened. “I never expected a criminal organization to be so efficient.”
“The Tong in New York?” Ardis said.
Her mother nodded with a modest smile.
Wendel slid onto the bench seat. “After the gas knocked us out, we woke in the jail. Doors unlocked, but police swarming the place. They kept blithering about a man in a gas mask. Though they wanted to question us further, they received a tip from the Tong convincing them to release us and pursue other avenues of inquiry.”
“The NYPD is that corrupt?” Ardis said.
“No, no.” Jin Hua brushed away her comment. “The Tong took credit for the explosion.”
“They would do that?”
“They owe me.”
She gaped at her mother, who looked a little like a stranger. “Damn.”
“It worked!” Konstantin looked almost cheerful. “After they released us, Himmel arrived to sweep us away to London.”
“Your knight in shining armor,” Wendel said dryly. “Oh wait, that would be Tesla.”
His ears crimson, Konstantin glared at him. “Anyone with scientific knowledge would appreciate his inventions.”
Wendel just laughed. “His inventions. Of course.”
“Listening to you bicker is music to my ears,” Ardis deadpanned.
Jin Hua caught her gaze. “Where is the other one?”
“The other what?”
“Necromancer.”
“Kiel, somewhere in the German Empire.”
Wendel tilted his head. “Prussia, to be precise, on the Baltic Sea.” He looked guarded, like he wanted to say more, but wouldn’t.
Ardis frowned. “Close to Königsberg?”
“No.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Far to the west, in Holstein.”
“What’s in Kiel?”
Konstantin settled by her, crossing his boots at the ankles. “The Imperial German Navy. Have you read the newspaper recently?”
She twisted her mouth. “I’ve been preoccupied.”
“The Kaiser himself will be visiting Kiel to inspect the U-boats.”
“When?” Wendel said.
“This week.”
A shadow passed over Wendel’s face. “Ardis, you said Wendel II wanted to interrogate the spymasters of Nemesis?”
“That’s what he told me. Unless you think he lied.”
“No.” He stroked the stubble on his jaw. “The Kaiser commands the German Empire’s armed forces. Including military intelligence.”
Dread crept over her skin. “He’s going to question the Kaiser?”
“That’s what I would do, if I were him.”
Konstantin let out a little cough. “Aren’t you?”
“Give or take a few horrific months,” Wendel said airily.
“Does questioning always entail brutal murder?” Konstantin said.
“Kill the Kaiser?” Wendel curled his lip. “He’s our uncle, technically, and I’ve never been fond of high-profile assassinations.”
“Uncle?” Jin Hua had a gleam in her eye.
“Mama.” Ardis shook her head. “He already told you he was a Prince of Prussia.”
“Disinherited.” Wendel raked his fingers t
hrough his ragged hair. “What if he’s right, and the Kaiser did give the order to Nemesis?”
“What order?” Konstantin glanced between them both.
Ardis spoke before anyone else could. “Nemesis wants me dead.”
“Why?” Jin Hua said.
“We don’t know. It’s why the other Wendel traveled back in time.”
“I see.” Jin Hua shoved aside the deck of cards. “I’m thirsty. Would someone make tea? We have much to discuss.”
Fatigue washed over Ardis. She didn’t even feel like discussing the flavor of the tea.
“I need to sleep,” she said.
“Of course.” Wendel touched the back of her hand, a small gesture of support, but one for which she was infinitely grateful.
Jin Hua held her gaze for a moment. “Nǐ shēng bìng le ma?” Are you sick?
“Wǒ hěn hǎo,” Ardis lied. I’m okay.
Her mother pursed her lips, but said, “Good night,” in English.
Wendel led her to cabin with two berths. Outside the porthole, rain licked the glass. She sank onto the lower berth.
“Are you all right?” he said.
“Yes.”
He looked at her with piercing clarity. “Truly all right?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’m trying not to think about the baby.”
“Ah.”
“Would it have been a girl? A boy? Would it have your eyes?” Tears betrayed her by sliding down her cheeks.
“Ardis.” Grief roughened his voice. “That’s a future that never will be.”
“I didn’t think I wanted a baby this badly. Not until I couldn’t have one.”
He sat beside her and tucked her against his shoulder. “We can try for another baby. Whenever you’re ready.”
“You would want that?” she whispered.
“Very much so.”
“God, I’m sick of crying.”
Without a word, his arms tightened around her, and she wondered if he couldn’t speak. She let out a shuddering breath.
“I need a handkerchief,” she said.
He took one from the pocket of his jacket. She wiped away her tears. When she glanced at him, she saw that the glittering in his eyes had crystallized into something hard. He stripped back the sheet on the top berth.
“A sword may prove more useful,” he said.
Wendel held out Chun Yi in its scabbard.
When she took it from him, a little of the ice melted from her heart. “Thank you.”
~
The Peregrine cast off from the Hanworth Park Aerodrome during her dreamless sleep.
Upon waking, she discovered they were airborne. Wendel had already left the cabin. She found him in the dining room alongside Konstantin and Nikola Tesla. Outside the generous windows, sunlight buttered the clouds.
“Good morning!” Konstantin said, beckoning her with a cup in hand.
“Don’t slosh that on me,” Wendel said.
Konstantin scoffed. “Just dregs.” He relinquished the cup nonetheless.
In the middle of the table, a platter held a continental breakfast with bread rolls, sliced ham, Swiss cheese, and coffee. Ardis helped herself to a little of everything, then broke open a roll and slathered it with blackcurrant jam.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Tesla,” she said.
Dressed in an immaculate suit, Tesla dipped his head in acknowledgment. “And you, though I wish under different circumstances.”
She hesitated, wondering how much he knew. “Are you up to speed?”
“Pardon?”
“We told him about my time traveling doppelgänger,” Wendel interrupted.
Tesla raised his eyebrows. “I will admit, I hadn’t considered it a possibility.”
Konstantin straightened in his chair, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Though now we have definitive proof of its success.”
Wendel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You want to experiment, don’t you?”
“He always wants to experiment,” Ardis said.
“True.” Konstantin laughed.
She chewed a bite of bread. “Where’s my mother?”
Wendel sipped his coffee. “She woke at an ungodly hour, then went to the navigation room to talk with Himmel.”
“Where are we flying?”
“Buckingham Palace,” Tesla said. “His Royal Highness requested a demonstration.”
“A demonstration like the USS Jupiter?” She remembered the airship unleashing a lightning bolt and stunning the clockwork dragon.
“No.” Tesla’s eyes darkened. “The Peregrine has no place in war.”
Konstantin tilted his head. “Her improvements include superior speed, extended wireless telegraphy, and storm-proofing.”
“Fascinating,” Wendel said, “though I fail to see how any of that will help us.”
Konstantin nibbled on a slice of cheese. “Couldn’t you send a telegram to the Kaiser? Warn him of a deranged necromancer?”
Wendel shot him a glacial stare. “Which one?”
“We need to go to Kiel,” Ardis said. “Konstantin?”
He hesitated. “You must understand my reluctance.”
“What if you could send the other Wendel back to his own time?”
“That isn’t quite how temporal magic works…”
She raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you curious?”
With a little laugh, Konstantin pushed aside his plate. “Always, though curiosity isn’t always the wisest course of action.”
Wendel leaned back in his chair. “Think of the advances in technomancy. The renown.”
“I hardly care about renown,” Konstantin scoffed, though he had a dreamy look in his eyes, as if drafting journal articles in his head.
“Would you come with us to Kiel?” Ardis said.
Konstantin let out his breath in a sigh. “Himmel won’t like it. He’s avoiding the war.”
She wasn’t about to argue the point. Himmel’s last command, the Wanderfalke, had died a fiery death at the claws of the clockwork dragon. The airship’s skeleton lay at the bottom of a lake in the wilds of Austria-Hungary.
Tesla, who had been silent, dabbed his mustache with a napkin before speaking. “Captain Himmel expressed interest in commanding the Peregrine on the first airship circumnavigation, to advertise her speed and safety to the world.”
“And?” Wendel said.
“Perhaps the Kaiser might appreciate a demonstration in Kiel.”
“I’m positive Wilhelm would. Just tell him his cousin George was first in line.”
Tesla folded his napkin on the table. “I don’t intend to provoke conflict between empires. This flight will be a gesture of peace.”
“I hope so,” Wendel said blithely.
Ardis looked daggers at him. One airship crash enough was enough for her lifetime.
Tesla glanced out the window. “Please, excuse me. I promised a demonstration of wireless telegraphy to His Majesty.”
Konstantin perked up. “Here already?”
She followed his gaze and glimpsed the majesty of Buckingham Palace below.
“Join me on the observation deck?” Wendel said.
“Good thinking.”
He slid her chair from the table. Occasionally, he had the manners of a gentleman, bits and pieces of a prince’s upbringing.
Ardis hooked her arm around his elbow. “Lead the way.”
He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes glinting. “Madam.”
“Your Highness.”
“Your Royal Highness.”
She rolled her eyes. “Were you really called that?”
“His Royal Highness, Wendel, Prince of Prussia.” He smirked. “Up until age eleven.”
She pretended to shudder. “You must have been such a brat.”
“Oh, of course.”
Though she could joke about his life before the Order of the Asphodel, she di
dn’t think his wounds from after had healed enough.
On the observation deck, at the nose of the Peregrine, glass slanted earthward. Buckingham Palace glittered with a plethora of windows. Lawns rolled like vast sheets of green velvet. Ardis couldn’t imagine why anyone needed a house this absurdly big. From a balcony, King George V waved at the airship.
“Strange,” Wendel said, “he looks almost insignificant.”
“Exactly why I’m worried about Wendel II assassinating the Kaiser.”
“Why?” He managed to look surprised.
“A certain lack of respect for monarchy.”
“And you, an American, respect them more?” He sneered. “They haven’t earned it.”
Though she agreed, she wasn’t about to say that out loud.
The Peregrine circled over Buckingham Palace before gaining altitude, engines humming, and soaring into one of the clouds over London. Drizzle streaked the windows and pattered on the silver skin of the zeppelin.
Wendel looked sideways at her. “How will we find him in Kiel?”
She didn’t need to ask who he meant. “He thinks I’m still in London. At the Savoy.” She grimaced. “He didn’t telegraph an address.”
“When did he send the telegraph?”
“Last night.”
“Ah.” He gazed at the cloud surrounding them. “We might arrive before him.”
“I doubt that,” she said. “Wendel II hasn’t been sleeping. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went straight to Berlin, interrogated the spymasters that night, and stopped only to telegraph me before traveling onward to Kiel.”
“Christ.” Wendel glowered. “What’s wrong with him?”
“The usual.”
“What?”
“Revenge.”
And grief, though that word lingered unspoken on her tongue.
They allowed silence to grow between them. As they flew toward Kiel, the clouds peeled away and bared a stark blue sky.
“Do you think it’s too late?” she said.
“For what?” He looked sideways at her. Sunlight transmuted his eyes to green-gold. “Saving the Kaiser?”
“Not him. Wendel II.”
His gaze returned to the sky. “Define salvation.”
“Not losing yourself to darkness. Not dying.”
“I have already failed on one of those counts.” A hint of amusement colored his voice. “As for darkness, what do you mean?”
