the floor above or murmuring voices.
I most fervently hoped we would arrive at the end or at least discover a means of ascending from the dark, suffocating passage, for, despite the exhilaration of the hunt and the unexpected comfort of Asher's company, my chest felt tight. I fought to steady my breath, sucking in deep lungfuls of the remarkably thick air lest Asher discover my discomfort. If he did, he did not remark, for he knew of my peculiar aversion to small, dark spaces and was, despite my many declarations otherwise, quite discreet when it came to such indignities.
There was no sign of the ringmaster or his accomplice. Quite the contrary, the passage felt eerily deserted. I was certain now the man and his lady had popped up in some room above and were likely stashed in some clever hidey-hole. It might take all night to discover his whereabouts. I sighed in resignation. Asher was not a man to give up once he had begun a man hunt. He would lock down the ship when it arrived at port if he must and search every inch of the aerostat until Flaire was located. I suspected it would result in little; Flaire likely had numerous escape routes all over the ship. A clever villain often did, and Flaire was proving to be most clever indeed.
The sounds from above grew louder as we moved deeper into the passageway. “Ash, I think we've come under the lounge.”
He peered up at the ceiling with a frown. “Yes, I believe you're right.”
“I think it unlikely Flaire has remained here in the galley. I greatly suspect he has used one of his clever trap doors and ascended back up to the main floor.”
“I had been thinking so myself.”
“Shall we attempt the same?”
It took only moments to locate the sliding panel above, for the clockwork construct flowed around a patch of bare ceiling. My diminutive stature rendered me quite ineffectual, but Asher lifted his hands to run his fingers over the smooth panel. “Ah ha,” he said in a smug sort of voice. He flicked his fingers over what must have been a small lever or divot. The panel slid open, and the bright lights of the lounge flooded into the hole. He turned to me with a smile. “May I assist you up, Mrs Darby?”
“Much obliged, Agent Key.” I allowed him to lift me towards the opening, and I caught the edge to pull myself up out of the hole. Around me, many of the guests still drank their wine, chattering excitedly and declaring their admiration for master Flaire and his players. Few of them noticed me, so wrapped up in their conversations were they, but a number of people gaped open-mouthed as Asher emerged beside me, drawing himself up through the hole with apparent ease.
“Well, that was most enlightening,” he remarked, assisting me to my feet. “I do hope there is a way to close this thing; it would be a terrible shame for one of the guests to wander too close in their condition.”
“Indeed. It would be most tragic. They do not appear to have come back to themselves quite yet.”
He knelt and spent several moments groping around the floor. I peered around us, searching for my young wards in the crowd. They were exactly as we'd left them, sitting with their heads together at Vera's table. “Ah.” I did not hear the floor panel slide back into place, but Asher rose to his feet, rubbing his hands together as though to dislodge any dust.
“Come. Xander and Juliana will be most interested to hear what we've been up to. They are likely quite concerned at the moment with our safety, as they must have expected to hear from us by now.”
“Indeed, and I would like Xander's opinion on the dastardly Empathy Spirit Stealer.”
“Empathetic Spirit Resonance Extractor and Manipulator,” I corrected him.
“Right. Well, whatever it is called, it's barking mad and highly illegal, I am sure.”
Xander shot to his feet as we reached their table. “Astrid! Asher! Where have you been? We've been extremely worried. When you did not return, we checked the observation deck, but you had simply vanished.”
“We did not simply vanish,” I replied. “That, I am afraid, is a trick we've yet to learn, though we are getting to the bottom of the matter.”
“Astrid, what are you talking about?” Juliana demanded. “Did something happen? About what did Mr Allard wish to speak?”
“It is a most thrilling tale indeed, but we simply haven't the time to enjoy the full and rich detail with which I would normally regale you.”
“Perhaps Agent Key should apprise us, then.”
I shook my head in disappointment at the young lady, but I gestured towards Asher. “The funambulist knew nothing of the clockwork.”
“Aside from knowing a particularly useable bit of information about his master's trick, he is was most unhelpful,” I added. “Luckily, our curiosity was quickly assuaged by the arrival of Master Flaire himself.”
“Do let me tell it, Astrid,” Asher said.
“Yes, yes, carry on. Deeply sorry.”
“Flaire caught you?” Xander demanded.
“Indeed he did. He led us back to his chambers with a most ominous threat of death,” I said, but I subsided when my companions shot me a collective look of irritation.
“He told us everything,” Asher explained. “The clockwork is part of a vast apparatus, the purpose of which is to harness human emotion.”
“Ah! So it does concern the life energies,” Juliana said with a hint of smugness. “Does it power the ship?”
“Nothing so mundane,” I replied. “It is meant to control the people whose energies it has extracted.”
“You said emotions?” Xander asked, frowning.
“Indeed. At least, he indicated as such. There is no evidence the dingus actually works,” Asher told him.
“But that is absurd. Energy, perhaps. But emotions? I find it highly improbable.”
“What is the machine called?” Juliana asked.
“The Empathetic Spirit Resonance Extractor and Manipulator,” I said with a tilt of my chin. “A most impressive sounding name, is it not?”
“And quite to the point,” Juliana agreed, though I little understood why.
“I would very much like to see this machine,” Xander said. His brilliant blue eyes glittered with the fevered spark of keenness I had seen so many times when he was pondering a particularly interesting puzzle.
“Yes, that would be helpful,” Asher agreed. “And the clockwork in the galley. Perhaps you can discern how it functions.”
“You found the clockwork? Why did you not say?”
“It is beneath our feet. It does seem rather unimportant when compared to the totality of the apparatus, does it not?” I asked.
“It's all a piece,” Asher said. “In any case, we are more concerned at the moment with locating the ringmaster and his accomplice, Elodie Allard.”
“Ah. The young lady is an accomplice, then?” Juliana asked. “Is she, as her brother suspected, under the ringmaster's spell?”
“Sadly, no. It appears she is quite in control of her own faculties, at least for the time being.”
“What happened?” Xander demanded, frowning.
“As Asher was attempting to arrest them, they disappeared, quite literally, in a puff of smoke. We determined the trick was performed by triggering a trap door in the floor, which leads into a galley beneath our feet. It is in that very galley that his diabolical clockwork is housed, and it is the way we came to reach you.”
“I see. But he was no longer in the galley?”
“No. It is likely he's returned to the main floor and is locked away in some hidey-hole. We are confident he is still on the ship,” Asher explained. “And we intend to find him. He is, as of now, of interest to the Ministry of Defence.”
“Ah. So, it was some sort of evil scheme, then?” Juliana asked.
“Yes. Well, it was not a very well-developed scheme, but it was getting there.” I replied. “We are determined to stop it before it is fully-realised.”
“Time is of the essence,” Asher reminded us. “We have wasted quite a lot of time already. Come. Let us get on with it.”
We rose from our seats and discovered
we were not alone in doing so. At the same moment, the entire party shot abruptly to their feet. In a single motion, as though choreographed, they turned towards us. Their eyes were glazed and vacant. There was no expression on their faces, but a shiver raced up my spine. They all lifted their arms towards us and took a single, ominous step forwards.
“Oh, this does not bode well,” I said.
“Indeed, I believe we have a slight problem,” Xander added, and I admired his flair for understatement at a moment such as this.
“Flaire must have activated the device,” Asher put in. “Apparently, it does do as he suggested it would.”
We all drew our weapons as the guests converged upon us. “We can't shoot them!” Juliana said. “They're beyond their own control. They're just innocent people.”
“Damn,” Asher swore.
A middle-aged man in an exquisite blue tuxedo plucked at the sleeve of my gown. “If we aren't going to shoot them,” I said. “I suggest we do run now, as the situation seems to be experiencing a steady downward trend.”
My companions were already in flight as I finished speaking. The guests, though quite outside their own minds, possessed no greater strength or physical ability than they had before they had been transformed into Flaire's automatons. We shoved past them with little difficulty and burst into the corridor. They turned as one entity to follow us, but their movements were lurching and slow, as though Flaire's commands were on a slight delay. They did not seem to be capable of acting with any great urgency.
“We must shut down the machine!”
Astrid Darby and the Circus in the Sky Page 16
