The Zeppelin Deception Read online

  Isabella’s goons forced us up two steps into one end of the cabin on the bottom level. We found ourselves in something like a cargo hold. It was dark, windowless, and low-ceilinged. There were shapes and lumps cluttering the space.

  “Make yourselves comfortable,” she said. “On second thought…don’t.”

  And the next thing I knew, something crashed into the back of my head. Everything went dark.

  When I awoke, the first thing I realized was that we were moving. It was hardly noticeable, but I could feel the slightest wafting movement, almost as if we were floating on still water.

  The second thing I realized was that my wrists and ankles were tied.

  And third, I sensed that the UnDead were still in the proximity. But not, thankfully, nearby.

  I pulled experimentally on the bonds around my wrists, which were helpfully tied in front so that my hands rested in my lap. The ties were rope, and there was some give, but not enough to work free.

  “Mina? Grayling?”

  I heard a moaning sort of mumble that could only be Mina.

  Grayling, however, responded. “Miss Stoker. I’m over he—”

  “Blooming fish, Grayling, you can call me Evaline. I think we’ve moved beyond that sort of propriety.”

  I thought I heard a snort of laughter, but it was drowned out by my partner, who’d apparently found her voice. “It’s the same number of syllables, Evaline, so it really doesn’t make it any more efficient—”

  “Then he can call me Evvie. Or Ev. All right?” I was speaking from between clenched teeth.

  I supposed the fact that Mina was being her normal exacting self meant that she was uninjured. But she was the most annoying person I had ever met. I couldn’t understand why Grayling was so besotted with her.

  Well, I suppose I could. She was fantastic and interesting and kind in her own way—and if she would just keep her mouth shut, it would be so much easier to like her.

  “I don’t suppose anyone has an illuminator,” I said.

  “Of course I do,” Mina replied at the same time as Grayling said, “I do.”

  I should have known. Two cognoggins.

  “But it’s tucked inside the sole of my boot,” Mina said. “I need some assistance getting to it.” She was making a grunting noise, and I guessed she was trying to move around.

  There was a quiet click, then a soft light flared in the space, illuminating Grayling’s face.

  “Oh, excellent, Inspector,” she said as he set the tiny device on the floor with his bound hands. It cast a small but useful glow. “Where did you have that hi—”

  “Never mind, Mina. You can discuss secret pockets later. Let’s get free. I don’t suppose you have a hidden knife, do you, Grayling?”

  “That I don’t—”

  “You do, Evaline.”

  “No, I gave them all up.”

  “I didn’t see you remove the one in your corset.”

  “In my corset?”

  I could hear her sigh in the dim light. “There’s a slender blade right in the back where the center busk would be—I would surmise there is one down the front as well. It’s very cleverly obscured by the decoration on the corset. I thought it was a metal stay, but it’s got a small handle fastened by one of the leatherwork details. Whoever designed it was quite brilliant. One moment. I’ll…get…it.”

  She grunted some more, scooting across the floor to me. Grayling helpfully lifted the light, and I remained still as Mina maneuvered her way behind me. “It’s much easier to scuttle about in a short skirt,” she commented. “Not so much fabric to get caught up. And no petticoats!”

  I tried not to think about my blundering friend using bound hands to remove a knife from the tight stays so near my bare skin and vital organs. She grunted and strained, and I could feel my corset shift and jolt as she worked it loose. I winced and held my breath, imagining what would happen if she unexpectedly jerked the blade free.

  With a triumphant exclamation, she pulled it loose—much like I imagined the boy Arthur had pulled Excalibur free from the stone—and without stabbing me.

  I slid around to face her, once again a little nervous about her using the blade to cut me loose, but she did so without actually cutting me. (There was a point when she stabbed the soft flesh on the side of my thumb deep enough to draw a pinprick of blood, but that was all.) Thus, I was unscathed when the ropes fell away.

  My fingers tingled as the feeling rushed back into them, and I immediately sucked at the drops of blood on my thumb so the UnDead wouldn’t sense it. I cut Mina free, and then Grayling.

  We all stood, rubbing our wrists, and looked around our prison for the first time. Grayling held the illuminator high enough for us to see the crates that littered the area. There was a slender, barely discernible square of light that outlined the single door. I saw a broom and a pile of rags or blankets in the corner and several lumps that were chairs or other furniture, covered in sheets. On the far side, I noticed a round handle in the floor. Probably a door for unloading the cargo. Other than that, the hold was dark and empty.

  “They’re definitely not coming back to London,” Mina said, surveying the crates and swathed furniture. “They’ve brought everything they need. Edison was correct.”

  “Speaking of Edison, where is he?” My insides were a bundle of nerves.

  “More importantly, where are we?”

  “Most certainly airborne,” Grayling said. “Though not for very long, I don’t believe.”

  Just then, we heard something at the door. The pinprick of light around it narrowed to darkness, then began to widen.

  Grayling snapped off his illuminator, and we fell into silence as the door eased open to reveal a shadowy figure who slipped quickly inside.

  “Well, speak of the devil,” Mina said as he closed the door behind him.

  It was, indeed, Edison Smith.

  Miss Holmes

  ~ Our Heroes in Action ~

  How’d you get here?”

  That was Evaline, of course. The woman was brilliant at asking the most obvious, mundane questions.

  “Stowed away.” He flipped on an illuminator of his own. “I watched them bring you on board, then sneaked on when they were getting ready to launch. You should know they left explosives at Cosgrove Terrace.” This last was directed at Grayling. “For total destruction.”

  “Good gad. I hope the servants get out safely,” the inspector replied grimly.

  “They have no intention of coming back, then,” I said. “Or letting us do so.”

  “But does anyone have any idea where we are going?” Evaline again.

  “Betrovia,” Edison, Grayling, and I replied in unison.

  Evaline stared at us, then blinked. “Oh.” She frowned, and I could almost hear her wondering how we’d all known and she hadn’t.

  The answer was, of course, elementary. But even I didn’t have the energy to get into the details at the moment.

  “Is Daisy here too?” Evaline asked in a snippy voice.

  We all looked at her, and she glowered back as if she were the one who was offended.

  “No.” Edison’s response was curt. “But there are two other prisoners. We should free them first.”

  “First? And then what?” Evaline demanded. She was obviously not thinking clearly. Or something else was bothering her.

  I suppose if I knew my fiancée and/or his brother had tried to arrange for someone to kill me, I’d be a tad upset as well. Especially if the man I— Well, obviously she cared for Edison Smith a great deal; far more than she should have done, in my opinion, considering the entire time she’d known him he’d been skirting the law and acting in a criminal manner—and since he’d shown up talking about some far-too-helpful chambermaid, I suppose I could understand why she might be a bit disgruntled.

  “And then we take over the airship and bring it back to London,” Grayling said far more patiently than I would have done. “And Isabella and Oligary go to prison.”

>   “Where are the others?” Evaline said as she rose and walked across the small room. Her fountain of hair, long, dark, curling, swung with alacrity from where it was moored at the top of her head. She picked up the broom I’d noticed earlier and snapped it into three pieces as if it were a twig, then handed Grayling and me each a sharp-pointed piece. “I assume you’re already armed.” She glanced at Edison.

  I caught a glint of longing in his eyes when they were focused on Evaline in her gladiator attire, but it was quickly masked into a bland expression. “Yes. I managed to acquire some of the weapons she made you leave behind.”

  He offered her the dagger that was larger and more dangerous than the one I’d liberated from her corset, then gave Grayling his pistol and me a dagger as well. (I had no idea what I would do with a dagger—or a stake, for that matter. I preferred a steam-stream gun because I could defend myself from a healthy distance.)

  Evaline nodded in thanks. “You know where the prisoners are? How are they guarded? Anything else?”

  “Only that they are in another room where they’ve been doing their work. Two guards. Easily disposed of.” He flashed a smile. “As long as we’re quiet.”

  “What sort of work—”

  But Evaline interrupted me. “Let’s go. We should stay together.” She had taken control like the warrior she was, and at that moment I was ashamed by my earlier snide thoughts.

  Her forte was action, protection, battle. Mine was ratiocination, observation, and memory. Neither of us were competent in the professions of the other. But there was no one else I’d rather be with if I had to face an UnDead, or any other sort of murderous villain.

  With all of the revelations tonight—sudden and unexpected to her, at least—she could only be confused and unsettled. I reached over and touched her hand, squeezing it with my fingers. Evaline looked at me in surprise, then away suddenly, and I’m certain I saw her blinking rapidly as if to subdue some strong emotional response.

  “Let’s go, then,” Edison said. He too seemed more than willing to trust his safety—and possibly more—to Evaline. “Evaline and I in front. You two follow.”

  “Don’t trip,” Evaline muttered to me as she passed by. “And don’t talk.”

  I was too annoyed to make a retort of the nature that I was obviously aware of the necessity to be as quiet as possible.

  The area directly outside the cargo hold was filled with helium tanks and engines. I could see the inner workings of the airship’s external fins and the other machinery thanks to small gaslights that illuminated the space and also enabled me to keep watch for anything that might catch my toe or heel. Once again, I was grateful that my short, scandalous attire left nothing to be tripped over or snagged.

  Grayling remained close by my side (as much to catch me if I stumbled as any other reason, I’m certain) as we followed Edison and then Evaline.

  The engine room was long and narrow, and I surmised that it ran along the entire bottom of the gondola-like cabin, with only the cargo hold taking up space down here as well. The passengers would be on an upper, more comfortable level.

  Thus when Edison led us to a metal spiral staircase midway down the length of the room, I was prepared. It was a challenge to keep my boots from clanging on the steps, but I believe I managed to ascend without making any sounds that would be heard over the rather loud hum of the engines.

  My pulse had increased and my breathing became shallower, for when we emerged from the ceiling hatch at the top of the steps, who knew what would be waiting for us?

  To my relief, Edison and then Evaline disappeared without hesitation up into the second level. Grayling followed and offered a hand to assist me through. We were in a dim, narrow channel that stretched a short distance in both directions. At each end, there was a door that I assumed led to traveling chambers, and also the driver’s lookout.

  Edison led us to the door on the left leg of the hall. I noticed Evaline had touched the back of her neck, and I concluded she was feeling the presence of UnDead nearby. I gripped my stake more tightly and concentrated on keeping my footsteps soundless (difficult when one is trouncing on a metal floor in heavy, thick-soled boots).

  Edison and Evaline exchanged looks when they reached the door, then he murmured something to Grayling. I was too far back to hear, but I adjusted my grip on the stake and dagger, preparing myself to use them.

  To my surprise, Edison knocked on the door.

  When it slid open, I caught a glimpse of a pale blond man an instant before Evaline’s arm arced through the doorway and plunged the stake into his chest.

  Grayling ducked around her and surged into the chamber, followed by Edison and myself. Although I had my weapon at the ready, by the time I stepped inside and (prudently) closed the door behind me, the air was filled with the dank smell of UnDead ash and the battle, if you permit the use of the term, was done.

  I estimated the Ankh was now at least two vampires the less, and in addition, one of her mortal goons was unconscious on the floor. Tucking his pistol away, Grayling stepped over the man and went about securing our new captive’s limbs. The constant rumbling of the engines below would have helped to muffle the brief but violent sounds, and I was optimistic we hadn’t been noticed.

  Assured that the chamber was clear of danger and that no alarm had been raised, I turned my attention to the corner of the room where Edison and Evaline had gone to attend to the prisoners, who, one must assume, had been quite startled by the unexpected entrance of myself and my partners.

  Rushing over to add my assurances to the people we had come to save, I finally caught sight of one of them—a female’s white-blond hair. Another step closer to see around Edison and I recognized her, jolting in shock.

  “Miss Babbage!” I forgot to keep my voice down, which earned me a violent hush from Evaline. “What are you…” Then my voice simply stopped. I felt my lips move, my mouth wanted to speak, but nothing would come out.

  Dylan. The person next to her was Dylan Eckhert.

  I could hardly believe my eyes as I walked toward him. It was a little bit of a déjà vu from the night at The Carnelian Crow, but not quite as much of a shock as it had been then when I thought he was living in the year 2016.

  “I wondered where you’d gotten off to,” I managed to say as many pieces of yet another puzzle clunked into place. “Presumably the Ankh—I mean to say, Lady Isabella—lured you away or otherwise kidnapped you.”

  “That’s right. She tricked me—sent a message that was supposedly from you. I should have known better than to fall for it!” He had a black eye and a purpling bruise on his jaw. There were healing cuts on his chin and on his hand as well. Clearly he hadn’t gone quietly.

  I was also concerned that Dylan’s handsome face was drawn and much thinner than before, but was relieved that his eyes displayed pleasure at seeing me. “I knew you’d find me.”

  “Well, I didn’t precisely find you,” I said, still confused and dumbfounded. “Edison’s really the one…”

  “Right, but I’m sure you would have found me—me and Olympia—eventually.”

  “Of course.” Even as I winced at his grammatical abuse, I felt ashamed that I hadn’t even realized he was missing until yesterday.

  “Well, this certainly complicates things,” Olympia Babbage interjected with a frown. She looked up from the sheaf of papers on which she’d been scribbling, her eyes wide and owllike. “Four more people? Dylan, I don’t see how—”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said, and patted her arm. “We were just about to execute our escape plan by distracting the guards—”

  “And now you’re here, and that causes immense complications. I had all of the computations—” All at once, Miss Babbage tilted her head sharply as if she’d just discerned something only she could hear, then quietly hummed and began to scratch more numbers on her paper. She held her hand out blindly, and Dylan automatically slipped a clean paper into it and she scribbled some more.

  The se
veral times I’d met her before, I’d found the granddaughter of Charles Babbage—the man who had designed the Analytic Machine—to be a resourceful yet terribly frustrating and exasperating individual.

  The young woman had an inventor’s brain, and that meant that she was usually deep inside her thoughts building whatever it was she was constructing instead of attending to things going on around her. One could hardly have a conversation with Miss Babbage, for she always seemed more interested in what was on her paper or what she was calculating than what was being said to her. It was no surprise the Ankh had managed to kidnap her.

  “Edison—er, Pix—said you’re doing some work,” I said to Dylan.

  At this reminder, his face turned sober and even frightened as he glanced around nervously. “Yes, she’s been making us work on a special project. She kidnapped us specially for it. She needed the guy from the future and the inventor. It’s because of the secrets inside the Theophanine Chess Set, Mina. Olympia and I have been trying to hold her off, but I don’t know how long she’ll fall for it. She’ll need more people, and a bigger space—so that’s why they’re leaving—but—”

  I was trying to follow his rambling, choppy speech, but it was the mention of the chess set that caught and held my attention. “She has you working on the secret from the chess set?”

  “Yes. It’s something horrible. You have no idea how bad it is,” Dylan said. “That’s why she needed me, because—”

  All at once, the airship gave a strange, great shudder, and everyone hushed, looking around alertly.

  “It worked!” Olympia crowed. “I told you it would.” She rustled to her feet, skirt, petticoats, and papers, and began to stuff things into a satchel. In the hall outside, I could hear shouts and the sounds of people running and clanging up metal stairs. Up? To the balloon, of course.