Bryn lifted her gaze and stared the Commodore right in his watery blue orbs. She whispered a spell to mesmerize him and batted her eye lashes. The Commodore’s eyes glazed and Bryn knew she had him. “Tell these gentlemen the tour is over.”
The Commodore did as he was instructed. The city officials seemed glad to escape and scattered quickly. “This way, Commodore.”
The Commodore followed her to the entrance of the passenger compartment where two guards were stationed to keep the curiosity seekers out. She pushed the Commodore in front of her. “Tell them we’re leaving shortly,” she hissed. “And to go home.”
When the two guards had shuffled away, she shoved the Commodore aboard and ran to get Sam and Fingle. Tomlinson was standing with Sam and Quinn. His usual bland expression had been replaced by one of shock. “You aren’t seriously considering flying this thing to Africa?” He demanded of Bryn.
Bryn ignored him. “Fingle, load the bags into the passenger compartment. The Commodore is inside and we really need to get underway. Sam, see if you can get the engines running.”
“I say, Bryn, this is insane,” Tomlinson interjected.
She turned on him. “Of course it is but any other option is unthinkable. Priest is much stronger, he’s younger, and he’s after us. Come with us or stay here. It matters not. We will be leaving immediately. Should you decide to remain behind, I’m sure Sam can maintain the engines.”
“No, no,” Tomlinson stuttered. “Consider me on board, though in my opinion, this is still a crazy scheme.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. “If you can manage to constrain your negativity, please assist Sam in getting the engines running at full capacity. We leave as soon as they are ready.”
When he’d run off to do as she bid, she hustled Fenix and Quinn on board after Fingle. She heard the roar of the engines starting and ran around the outside of the airship to speak to them. “Get the lines off,” she screamed. The green and gold gas bag of the ship high above them bobbed in the stiff autumn breeze tethered to the ground by ropes. It had a pointed nose to assist in airspeed, a tall, spiked dorsal fin and a fishtail-like rudder at the back for maneuvering.
Tomlinson screamed back. “I’ll get the crew to set us free.”
Bryn found Sam in the pilot’s house. “As soon as the lines are off, take her up.”
Tomlinson pushed his way into the pilot’s cabin. “Lines are off. Get into the passenger’s cabin.”
Bryn raced along the bouncing airship and dived into the door of the passenger cabin just as it lifted. The engines engaged and the entire ship pointed toward the sky and jetted into the air. They were headed for Africa.
Chapter 5
Draak Priest woke in the middle of the street in a puddle of horse urine. He opened his eyes and screamed. Cardinal Malenfant had entered his body and was inside his head. After centuries of longing for his youth to be returned, just as he received that gift, he was cursed again. He groaned and sat up. A dray pulled by six enormous draft horses headed toward him hauling a massive wagon loaded with barrels. He rolled out of the way in the nick of time. The big animals splashed more horse piss on him and he was hit in the head with a clump of shit to top it all off.
He sat in the reeking gutter clutching his head. Maybe the Cardinal was gone. He hadn’t heard from him since he awoke.
“I’m still in here, you cretinous moron. And now we stink. No woman would allow you within ten feet of her smelling of piss and shit. Go find a place to clean your person. And throw these garments away.”
Priest whimpered with barely suppressed rage. Now the intruder was assuming command and issuing orders. However, Malenfant was correct. He would have to change. He clambered to his feet and brushed flecks of filth off his black cassock. His silver cross swung at his side and he wished he could stab himself in the brain with its pointed end and kill Malenfant.
A sudden noise overhead caught his attention. He looked up just in time to see an airship shoot toward the clouds with its huge engines roaring. It flew south toward Spain, the Mediterranean and then Africa. In his heart, he knew Bryn had commandeered it and was headed for the Congo to find Kivunjo’s dagger. He felt her essence on board. She was running from him. He snorted. She’d never lose him. He was so connected to her, he could find her anywhere.
He shook himself and prepared to morph into a dragon. He was thinking the spell when Malenfant interrupted. “And exactly what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m transforming myself into my dragon form to go after Bryn and her sister, not that it’s any of your business. Leave me and my affairs alone, Malenfant. I’m warning you.”
Hysterical laughter erupted inside his head. “Listen to me, Draak Priest, you’re not in charge here. I am. Do you really think you can evict me? I am here to stay, my son. I haven’t felt this good since the Inquisition. So many people lined up for me to torture. It was the best of times. The screams of the tortured and fresh blood are the strongest of aphrodisiacs.”
Priest felt Malenfant shudder with barely suppressed excitement. “You will find a woman immediately following your ablutions and we will disembowel her while she still lives.”
Priest shook his head and set off for his lodgings. “I will bathe, but then I am going to follow the twins. They are mine. I have watched them for centuries and I will have that black-haired witch if it’s the last thing I do.”
* * * *
The flight was going smoothly. At first Fenix couldn’t believe they had left Paris by stealing a huge airship and were headed for Africa. Commodore Brightstone sat trussed like a Christmas goose in one of the red velvet chairs. His pale blue eyes glared at her from under bushy gray eyebrows. He possessed an amazing set of muttonchop whiskers and an enormous handlebar mustache and goatee. The whiskers covered a tendency for his jowls to droop and the goatee gave him the chin nature and heredity had denied him. He wore a tan and black herringbone suit with a black vest. It was rumpled from his hasty capture but he retained his dignity.
Though she was glad to be flying away from Paris and Draak Priest, she felt the search for the witch doctor seemed futile. Even as powerful as she and her sister were, Africa was enormous. But she possessed something Bryn knew nothing about. The connection to Lazarus was hers and hers alone. The thought of him waiting for her was remarkably comforting. She felt like she’d known him all her life. It must be the blood exchange. He had drained her of blood and she’d consumed some of his vampire blood. She now had powers her sister would never be able to understand.
She bent her head and concentrated. The burgundy-velvet seats were comfortable. All the accommodations in this air ship were luxurious. The cabins, though small, had brass hardware and light fixtures, velvet curtains and plush leather seats. The water closets were state-of-the-art with running hot and cold water, a small bathing tub and two sinks. Gilded wallpaper covered the walls of the cabins and hallways. Everything was first class. Clouds shot by outside the airship visible through large windows edged in more brass.
With her eyes closed, she attempted to summon Lazarus. He needed to know where she was going. His youthful countenance popped into her head as soon as she thought his name. “I am here, my love.”
Warmth filled Fenix. She was no longer alone. Through all her lifetimes, she had felt so isolated. Bryn did not understand her, had no idea what her particular curse was like to endure. Bryn just put her head down and plowed forward, taking care of everyone as best she could, but gave little thought to how Fenix might feel about anything.
“Lazarus, we are going to Africa to find Kivunjo and your dagger.”
“I know, my love. I will help you as much as I can. I think you will likely have a follower. Priest knows you and Bryn are on this airship. I have seen him and he seems strangely afflicted. He talks to himself and possibly has headaches. He keeps grabbing his head.”
Fenix smiled. “Maybe he has finally gone insane.”
Lazarus shook his head and Fenix marveled at his beauty. Hi
s long hair curled away from his smooth brow. His eyebrows were fine and arched over piercing blue eyes. She longed to be in his arms and to kiss his finely molded lips. “I do not think him insane,” Lazarus mused. “I think he is possessed.”
“By whom?”
“I know not, but I plan to discover what is wrong with him. If I am gone when you summon me, rest assured I will return shortly.”
“Don’t go.” Terror filled her at the thought of being without him for as much as a second.
A soothing warmth filled her chest. “I will never be far, my princess. If you call me, I will hear you and come.”
The rapid thud of footsteps pounding down the center aisle of the sitting compartment startled Fenix. “Priest is after us!” Bryn screamed. “Help me.”
Fenix ran to the banks of paned windows. A huge black dragon had appeared behind them. As it rapidly closed the distance between them, Bryn grabbed a speaking tube that connected the passenger cabin to the pilot’s cabin and yelled into it. “More speed. That dragon is Draak Priest and he’s chasing us.”
Fenix leaned close to hear Sam answer.
“I see him. Strap in. We’re going to attempt to escape.”
Bryn, Fingle and Quinn each threw themselves into a seat and tightened the safety restraints over their chests. Fenix couldn’t pull herself away from the windows. As she watched, the dragon’s huge wings flapped in gigantic swoops sending the creature closer. It opened its massive jaws and breathed a shot of fire at them. Fenix saw the flames approaching and moaned. “Fire. We’re doomed.”
“Sit down,” Bryn snapped.
Fenix dropped into her seat as the airship tilted sharply down and sped up. A huge ball of fire swept past the windows. “He’s flaming us,” she gasped.
When they shot toward the ground at a crazy speed, Fenix moaned and clutched the armrests. Doors crashed open and luggage flew out of cabins. Dishes smashed in the kitchen and Commodore Brighthouse’s seat tipped over and dumped him into the aisle, still tightly bound. “Help me,” he screamed as furniture and personal belongings tumbled toward the nose of the compartment. “The ship’s not built to handle this kind of treatment,” he yelled. “It’ll break apart.”
The airship was large and though the compartments and gas bag were streamlined, it was bulky, designed for speed not for easy maneuvering. The Titan slowly tilted to the left and began climbing out of the steep dive. Flames shot by the window and Bryn unfastened her belt. “The gas bag is going to explode. Get ready to transform into a phoenix and escape.”
“Crash?” Fenix gasped. “We should fight, Bryn. Open the compartment door and I’ll send a ball of fire back at him.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Bryn snarled. “The bag above us is filled with highly combustible gas. If it catches fire we are going to explode. If we get caught in the explosion, we shall surely fry.”
“We have to do something,” Fenix’s voice shook.
Bryn grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t panic on me. We’re over the Bay of Biscay. Quinn and the others can swim. We’ll help them.”
Fenix snatched herself out of Bryn’s grasp. “I’m not panicking. There has to be something I can do.”
Bryn scoffed. “What?”
Fenix shrugged. “I’m thinking.”
“Well why you’re thinking, grab whatever you value and get ready to throw it into the sea.”
Bryn gathered them next to the door as the dragon flamed them with another blast of fire and the engine on the left side of the passenger gondola exploded. She yelled one more time into the tube connecting them to Sam and Tomlinson. “Ditch the Titan.”
The huge ship listed terribly to the right. The gas bag suddenly exploded rocking their gondola and sending the Titan spiraling toward the earth while flames roared around them. As they rocketed toward the water at a frightening speed, Fenix clutched a bag filled with a few clothes and her wand close to her chest. She lay on the tilted deck next to her sister and tried to think of something she could do. When the ship hit the water, it dived deep. Bryn and Quinn leaped to their feet and tore the door open as soon as they stopped descending. Quinn ripped it off its hinges in a crazy show of strength.
As soon as the door was off, water gushed into the cabin and Fenix leaped into the flood. The water was icy cold. She gasped as the sea hit her and kicked hard for the surface, still hanging onto her bag. She opened her eyes and saw Sam kick loose of the pilot’s compartment and struggle for the surface beside Tomlinson. Cushions and other loose items floated lazily. Fenix popped to the surface in time to see Bryn explode out of the water and drag a sputtering, floundering Commodore Brighthouse above the surface with her.
“Where’s Quinn?” Bryn screamed over the raging fire coating the water right next to them.
“He didn’t come up,” Fenix yelled. “I’ll find him.”
Because of her new powers, Fenix did not require the same amount of air to live as Bryn. When Bryn tried to protest, Fenix ignored her and dived deep. She found she could see in the dark water as well as daylight on dry ground. Items from the airship floated at all depths. Far below, she spotted the passenger gondola dangling from the limp gas bag by one remaining iron girder. She streamlined her body and dived for it.
The door to the passenger compartment hung open and Fenix shot inside. Quinn floated unconscious, his body bumping into the ceiling. In his arms, he still clutched a small velvet bag. Whatever was in it must be worth everything to him. He’d decided to die for it. Fenix put her ear next to his chest and detected the faintest flutter. He still clung to a thread of life.
She grabbed his coat, dragged him out of the gondola and kicked for the surface. When she was almost there, she slowed and held him close enough to shed tears over him. The golden drops floated from her eyes and covered his nose and mouth. When her tears hit his eyes, they flew open. Fenix leaned close to him and breathed precious air into his mouth. His chest convulsed and she shot to the surface with him in her arms.
Chapter 6
Bryn swam the few feet separating them and grabbed Quinn. “Where did you find him?”
“He was inside the gondola holding this.” Fenix held up the velvet bag.
Bryn moaned. “He went back for the charm.”
“What charm?” Fenix was truly puzzled. She knew nothing of any charm, but then Bryn so rarely confided in her.
“Katherine made it for me. It allows me one night of love.”
Fenix stifled a laugh. It wasn’t funny. Quinn almost died for one night of love with Bryn. As they tread water, Bryn scanned the surface. “The water is cold. We need to get these mortals out of the water immediately.”
Sam swam over dragging a sputtering Fingle who paddled like the hound dog he used to be. “What are we to do now?”
Bryn supported Quinn’s head against her chest. His eyes had fluttered open but he closed them almost instantly. He was cold, shaking and his lips were turning blue. “We have to think of something right now or Quinn isn’t going to make it.”
“Dragon!” Tomlinson screamed.
Fenix followed his pointing finger and spotted Draak Priest in dragon form diving out of the heavy gray clouds straight at them. She pushed the seat cushion holding her up toward Bryn, turned her thoughts inward and summoned Lazarus. “We need help, Lazarus, or we die.”
He was instantly there. “I’ve summoned a friend. When they arrive, do not be afraid.”
“Who?”
At that moment a whirlpool appeared on the surface of the water. “Back away!” Bryn shouted as the dragon swooped lower.
Fenix watched with her hand over her mouth as the whirlpool turned into a vast burst of bubbles. An antennae popped out of the water followed by a long tube topped with a glass lens in a round globe that rotated until it pointed directly at them.
The tube then sucked back down and a brass dome appeared. Water flooded from the slick, highly-polished surface of the dome. When the dome slowly inched further out of the water, the top half of a
complete ship appeared. It was like no other ship Fenix had ever seen. It had rounded edges with round windows bolted to the body of the ship and was shaped like a long tube. A dorsal fin made of more brass stuck up from the top of the ship. The snout or bow was pointed like a swordfish’s. Four windows, two on each side of the front compartment, made of reflecting glass, were set into the sloping bow and bolted tightly to the body with more huge brass bolts. The tail was hinged and constructed like a fish tail to move back and forth and steer the huge vessel which was longer than Brighthouse’s Titan.
“What in all that’s holy?” Sam gasped.
“It’s a submarine!” Tomlinson shouted. “It’s a ship that travels beneath the sea.”
As they all paddled for the safety of the vessel, a hatch in the dome opened and the most hideous apparition Fenix had ever seen popped out. It had bandages around its head, one eye was covered by a patch and all of its reddish hair stuck out the top of the bandages like wheat, straight and stiff. The hand holding the hatch was missing two fingers and each of the remaining fingers was bandaged. The figure wore tattered ragged clothing that hung from a bony frame.
“Lord help us,” Tomlinson muttered. “We’ve been rescued by a submarine filled with zombies.”
Bryn began pushing Quinn toward the ship. “Don’t be ridiculous. The man clearly has leprosy. There’s nothing to fear.” She glanced skyward. “Duck!”
The fiery blast from the dragon raked the sea and the ship. The sailor ducked back in and slammed the hatch shut, but when the flames died, he popped back out and beckoned for them to hurry with his damaged hand.
“Leprosy!” Tomlinson gasped. “We’re all going to die.”
Sam paddled past Tomlinson. “You’re going to freeze to death in this water in about ten more minutes or be fried by dragon breath. If I were you, I’d take my chances with a measly disease. For the love of God, Tomlinson, don’t you want to see inside the submarine?”
Flight of the Phoenix Page 3
