A Tale of Two Airships (Take to the Skies Book 2) (18 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Since the notion of a fast and peaceable swap vanished, I launched into motion. The Morlock ship would spell both our fates. Whether they sighted us already or not, those bastards would once they set foot to the docks.

“Geoff, stand point for me,” I called out, my legs already carrying me to our rope ladder. I flung the flimsy slats over the side and began scaling down with my eyes on the Morlock ship as it skimmed towards us. The rungs clattered against the side of the Desire in the wake of my furious descent. My heartbeat rammed in my chest, and the rope scraped under my palms.

My boots hit the deck, and the force of the jump shuddered up my shins, but I shook it off to launch forward as fast as I could, even with the burning pain in my wounded thigh. Wind swept my hair back, and my right thigh protested the movement, but I launched into motion with the urgency the situation deserved. The planks passed under my frantic pace as I rocketed towards the approaching Fireswamp crew.

A range of bewildered looks greeted me as I waved my arms over my head like a lunatic, making it clear I hadn’t hidden weapons as I fought to close the distance between us. The captain was easy as pie to spot, taking the lead in the center and wearing the hell out of a nice beaten top hat. Based on the confidence with which he led the crew and the fact he’d caught the memo on hats, I deemed him as acceptable captain material. Beside him, Edward and Viola stumbled forward, arms tied behind their backs as the other crew guided them.

Viola, despite having been prisoner for a day or so, maintained an impeccable appearance. Her curls though mussed held in place, and even with her arms behind her she carried herself with an arched back, pride emanating from the stance. Edward had already been two steps from ragged before, and it increased, but wildness glinted in his eyes promising danger to anyone who tried to back him into a corner.

Captain Morgan Blackwind quickened his pace at the sight of my onslaught as I slung my arms side to side trying to draw his attention as best possible. He separated from the group he led, his long strides closing the distance between us. His hand remained on the revolver by his side, but he made no immediate motion to draw, so I pushed on.

“Trouble on the horizon,” I called out, hoping my voice carried across the space between us. He picked up to a jog until the distance reduced to feet.

“What’s happened?” his deep voice sharpened, and his dark eyes pierced me with the promise of a fight. The man had the Italian sort of good looks down pat, and his angled features were the type that sent most ladies reeling.

“Morlocks pulling in—they’ve got our names in register, and they chased after the Fireswamp too. We’ve got to take to the skies or else risk a runaround with squads of Morlocks.” My breaths slipped out between every couple words or so, and my shoulders heaved with the effort as I slowed, meeting him midway.

“Shit,” he cursed, his frown deepening. “Take your people, and get your men off my damn ship.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” I flashed him a cheeky grin. The man wanted my blood—after all, I’d stolen his ship, injured his crew, and all for my own gain. However, in the face of mutual trouble, we could act quickly or get caught in the storm. Pirates like us were old hats at outrunning storms.

“Bring them over,” he called to his folks. Viola and Edward scuffed their shoes as they stumbled our way. While I’m sure they wanted to return home, right now they’d end up shot if wandering around the docks when the Morlocks unloaded their brand of firepower and irritating persistence.

A click echoed through the air as the Morlock ship slid into dock, coming to a halt at last.

My eyes met Captain Morgan Blackwind’s and I nodded. In that moment, our current issues dissolved in lieu of our shared larger crisis. We’d both been through enough scrapes to understand responding to the immediate threat cast the difference between life and death.

“Get your men to your ship as fast as possible. We’re bigger targets, we’ll draw the heat.” I turned to Edward and Viola. “Follow me—you don’t want to get caught below when their squads drop to deck.” Though I’d barely sucked down a deep breath, we didn’t have time to loiter around. My calves squeezed as I rocketed off again, praying Viola and Edward followed close behind.

I raced in a wide arc near the Fireswamp, catching Spade and Jack’s attention. To my relief, my men were sharp and already descended the rungs the moment the other crew marched their way. We had no time to waste. I cast a glance to Edward and Viola who fought to keep pace despite their hands being bound. My pistol sprang into my hands fast as always—the quickdraw subconscious.

From the Morlock ship, I caught the first sight of those men in their mismatched uniforms, some wearing the blue monocle, others with the fur pelt around their holsters as they dropped the ladder and descended. At least ten gathered round the rails, waiting to follow, and I caught those bastards from the bar among the bunch. My stomach coiled, ready to spring, and I ran faster. We had to pull our girl out of this mess, because one thing the Morlocks had in their favor was superior numbers.

Isabella waited at the Desire, bracing the rope ladder at the top for our quick ascent. I grabbed the knife from my boot and spun around, slicing the bonds around Edward’s hands and then Viola’s second. Yards away, Spade and Jack closed the distance between the Fireswamp and the Desire, clattering across the deck as fast as their legs carried them. At the same time, several Morlocks dropped down the ladder, and even in the dim fading light I caught the glint of the high powered rifles on their backs and the knives and swords in their arsenal.

I ushered Edward and Viola up the ladder, guiding them. With their wrists sore and the blood flowing to their hands, I needed to keep watch in case they lost their grip. Despite their stint as captives, they remained ever professional while scaling the ladder as if they hadn’t been bound for over a day. I followed close behind, grabbing rung after rung on my way up, even though the motions made my unhealed wounds burn.

Vaulting over the rail, I landed on the deck and whirled around to catch sight of Spade and Jack. Mere feet away from the Desire. Jack surged ahead, grabbing ahold of the rope ladder. Spade waited below, hands at his weapons.

But with his back turned, he never saw the bullet coming.

Time froze as I watched in silent horror.

The Morlocks made it to deck, and the first one had fired a perfect shot.

I never even glimpsed the bullet in the air, just the explosion of red into the sky as it exited through Spade’s head. Viscous matter and liquid flew in all directions, staining the planks in blackened splatters. A thud followed as our navigator, and our friend hit the deck.

The world around me darkened to match the sky, and my insides plummeted. What I’d witnessed couldn’t be real. It had to be some nightmare I’d wake up from in an instant. Spade had been helming the Desire ever since I first boarded the girl a decade ago. He loved this ship with all his soul, and he’d always seen her steady. Trust didn’t come easy in this world, but the man had earned mine a thousand times over.

And he never even got to return to her deck.

Tears burned in my eyes, and my throat tightened. A rage flooded through me in one strong, buffeting current of flames. These Morlock bastards had hunted us down. They’d caused us nothing but hell for too long, and they’d taken too many from me. I wouldn’t leave Spade’s body lying there on the ground as we made our departure.

“Crew,” I screamed, heat stinging my eyes and my voice hoarse with grief. “Gun down any Morlock who tries to approach. Pick them off as fast as you can—I don’t care how many bullets you fire. Geoff, get our girl airborne.” Jack staggered onto the ship, clutching the rail as horror ringed his eyes. I didn’t look to Geoff, or any of the crew. If I did, I’d falter.

Instead, I grabbed the rope again and in large leaps, scaled the way down. Matilda in my hand, I kept my gaze to the Morlocks ahead of me—five had made their way to the docks, and they aimed their pistols and rifles to fire. Before any of those bastards unleashed another bullet, hellfire rained from above. The boom of rifles as my crew claimed retribution was mighty, and the sound reverberated in the air.

I landed on the deck and grabbed Spade’s body, trying to ignore the wetness slithering down my arms and imprinting my shirt. Bile rose in my throat, but I dragged him towards our ship. One-handed, I began to climb the ladder once more, gritting my teeth to ignore my unhealed bullet wounds I guaranteed opened up again. I’d maneuvered him on my back, but I half ambled up the way, praying the Morlocks didn’t get another shot like before. One whizzed by—too close for comfort.

The tinny scent of blood, horrifyingly familiar, crowded my nose, and with every breath, I fought to focus on the ascent. Each rung turned into a trial, and the night sky swirled above me, sending my mind reeling. 

Our crew let loose again, our gunfire sparking the air, sending tufts of smoke in its wake. The sound deafened like a cannon’s boom. My hands gripped the rail, and before I could launch myself over, hands grabbed for the body at my back, pulling it over. Free from the weight, I stumbled onto the deck, but at once, my legs gave way.

Heat strained my eyes, and I fought to stave it back. Right now, the crew needed a captain. We needed orders.

“Geoff, get her skyborne.” I shouted, my voice sounding raw and foreign in my own ears. Cries and shouts rang across the deck, but I shut them out, forcing my way to Geoff’s side at navigation.

I glanced back for a single moment, but it froze me to the core. Spade lay on the deck, head near unrecognizable from the force of the bullet. Blackened blood stained his body from the tips of his fingers to the hem of his breeches in a fine spray. Isabella and Jack crouched by either side. The tears streaming down their faces glinted silver in the moonlight as agony carved into their expressions.

An agony I shared. I clenched my jaw, and my knuckles whitened around Matilda’s grip as I forced myself to look away. Geoff stood at the helm, a blank expression on his face as he acted on autopilot. He needed my help to get her skybound now—no time for grief—not yet.

While more of our crew fired out against the rails, the Desire shuddered as Geoff started her engine, beginning the acceleration out of the docks. A moan creaked from her when she began cutting through the waters as if the Desire mourned all on her own. Without a word, I took my place at the navigation bay and stepped in for Geoff, pushing the accelerator until we skimmed across the water like a skipping stone. Until we soared for the inky horizon, a gradual climb that quickened with the winds.

The Desire hit the skies once more, but this time, without Spade’s steady hand at the helm.

Chapter Nineteen

We sailed into the night sky, yet the takeoff didn’t stir my normal excitement. Not with the cloud of grief that descended onto our ship. Though my heart twisted with the shock and the crew’s sobs mutated into a terrible melody, I forced my mask in place and stayed strong. Captains didn’t break down—I’d learned the lesson on my first days when Morris had died.

The silences were worse, when the crying subsided and we were each left with our sorrow. Geoff circled around until he chose a direction and drifted. We needed some space and time before we could return to Britain’s shores. And though Spade’s loss pierced my heart, I knew one person would feel it the worst. One who always put everyone else’s needs above his own.

I approached Geoff with caution, taking note of his grim expression and the ‘don’t fuck with me’ air buzzing around him. I’d been there before, and I understood.

“Nathaniel,” I barked. “Take the helm.”

He raced up to me, almost eager to have something to throw himself into given the sadness permeating this ship.

“I’ve got it,” Geoff’s voice came out in a low rasp.

“No one’s asking if you’ve got it or not.” My voice came out harsh, but I didn’t care. Gentling him wouldn’t help anything right now, not when he felt like this. “As your Captain, I’m ordering you to follow me.”

He shot me a look of pure murder, but I expected that. Anger was good—anger was better than the hellish numbness that descended when you lost someone important.

“Fine.” His words could cut ice, but I stared him down, unrelenting. He took the lead, storming across deck and heading towards his bunk. I’d follow him, but at the moment I had a mess to clean up. My stomach squeezed, and I sucked in a deep breath.

“Cover the body,” I instructed Isabella, keeping my voice flat as possible. Tears glittered in her eyes—the girl held all the emotion I never allowed myself—but she nodded, comprehending what I asked of her. Scanning our grim crew, folks were either in stages of shock or grief. No one had known Spade better than Geoff, but any of us older ones respected him as one of the backbones of our ship. Like Seth. Newer recruits crumbled to the ground, but to my surprise, Jack approached me.

“What do you need done, Captain?” He lifted his chin, and though I saw the pain glistening in his eyes, his mouth held tight and he didn’t waver. The boy had taken my lessons to heart right when we needed him most. Of everyone, I thought he’d break down, given Spade took a bullet marked for him.

“Help Isabella. Move the body to the side of the ship, out of the main area. I’ll return as soon as possible.”

On my way across the deck, I spotted Edward and Viola. Both wore matching grim expressions as they caught my gaze. I nodded to them, and they returned it, understanding in their eyes. Bounty hunters knew the business of death as much as any pirates of the skies, and I’m sure they’d buried their fair share of bodies. They’d return to land once we had the chance, but as of now, I had more important things on my plate.

Aether lamps lit the halls with their greenish hues, casting mutating shadows that darkened my heart. We didn’t lose our own—the words cheapened in my mind. After all, we’d lost so many over the years, and we continued to do so. I’d taken my captain’s words at face value, but maybe I didn’t understand at the time what they quite meant. My footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as I made my way to the first mate’s room.

Maybe all these years meant simply fighting as hard as you could to steal those precious seconds from death’s grip. To bring at least one man from the brink who might’ve perished. To tip those terrible, terrible scales every once in awhile. My heart weighed heavy, and my throat tightened. The scales be damned—Spade hadn’t deserved to die. Not like that.

I didn’t bother knocking at the door. He knew me better than that. Instead, I strode in, ready to start barking orders again, forcing him to distraction however possible, but when I stepped inside the room, I stopped.

Geoff sat on his bed, staring at the floor. His eyes were vacant, his expression haggard, and shadows deepened the grief. Out of the sight of the others, he’d retreated to his numb place he couldn’t allow himself to while alert and guiding our ship. Striding to his box of liquors, I popped the top off a handle of gin. Tonight wasn’t a night for sweet but sharp.

“Drink.” I handed him the bottle. We’d been down this road before, and nothing could be said to lighten the saturating darkness of this day. Our faithful helmsman had perished. Spade would never steer our girl again, diving in at the last minute to save us. Geoff’s best friend had been shot in the head by those bastard Morlocks, and he’d never get him back.

So many times, I’d wandered above deck and they’d be sitting there talking together or steering in silence. Yet their quiet was always comfortable, and besides, the two of them didn’t need words to communicate. A simple glance conveyed everything. Geoff lifted the bottle to his lips and drank a sip before passing it to me. He hunched forward, still listless.

I lifted the bottle to my own lips and imbibed as well. No words could cure this pain. Instead, I took a seat next to him on the bed, touched his leg with my own, and passed back the bottle.

“Didn’t think we’d be back here so soon,” I mumbled, letting the ice of gin seep into my veins. “Load of shit, if you ask me.”

“He never even made it back to his girl,” Geoff’s voice thickened, but he held those tears back same as I did. My throat tightened, and I almost slipped at his words, so similar to my own thoughts. He’d been feet away from boarding the Desire once more. Almost back home. But as I’d learned awhile ago, death wasn’t a fair mistress, and she claimed lives with the haphazard fury of a storm.

“The vendetta against the Morlocks threatens too many of ours, and we’ve made it worse over the years.” I leaned against the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling above me. The taste of pine on my tongue didn’t help with the tightness in my gut, but at worst it distracted me for a moment.

“Not now, Bea,” Geoff’s gentle voice pulled me out of my dark train of thought. To the bigger picture none of us were ready to face. He was right though. Now we would put our friend to rest, and then we’d try to save the ones we could.

Words dried on my tongue as he took another sip from the bottle and passed it over. He leaned against me, and I wrapped my arm around him, even though his shoulders were wider than I could reach around. Our warmth mingled as the flush to our cheeks grew with every sip, but we sat there in silence and the solace of touch. Geoff had always been my support in the past, the rock I’d relied on, but at this moment he floated, lost. Though my own grief tugged at me, I inhaled deep, filling my veins with granite. I’d be his mooring now.

***

Hours later, we drifted in the wild skies above British territories. Nathaniel did the best he could, but roundabouts happened to be all he managed with his lack of knowledge in anything further. Not for the first time, I was reminded of our crew’s need for multiple skill sets. The deck lay barren apart from a couple essentials and the canvas-covered body on the starboard side that once was our helmsman.

As the asshole captain, I’d be waking up everyone from their well earned sleep. “Crew,” I called out, in my loudest, most obnoxious swell. “Rouse yourselves. Anyone who’s sleeping down below, drag them up here.”

I waited in the silence, the tension of the early morning thrumming through my veins. But as I’d learned the day I took captainship—our crew deserved a rallying point—hell, they needed it. The captain needed to be a leader who didn’t hide away in the face of death but instead confronted it and taught them how to move forward. Even if I hadn’t the slightest.

Our crew shuffled onto deck, bedraggled and defeated. Most of them had been kidnapped, the rest of us grounded. We’d had power taken from us by the gypsies and by proxy, our damned ex-employer. The Morlocks chased us like wounded street dogs. And we’d lost one of our own. More than ever, we needed a reason to fight. We needed a win.

Once they assembled, I began. “As you’re all well aware, this evening we lost Spade Wesley, our helmsman and our friend.”

Geoff’s face stood out in the crowd, pinched and near gray in the lack of light as he fought back the emotion. Lifting his chin, he stood proud with his arms crossed as he gazed at me. I nodded, acknowledging his fight. After all, the shakes had already started through my legs, and only the Desire under my feet kept me steady. The grim expressions from my crew stared at me. Whether they were close to Spade or not, losing one of ours hit us where it hurt. It shook anyone with the vulnerability that at any point, we’d land on the end of a saber or someone’s good shot.

“We’ll bury him when we dock, after we’re sure we lost the Morlock’s tail.” I acknowledged Edward and Viola. “That’s when you two can head on home. We apologize for bringing you this far into our problems. This business is between family: the members we need to bring home, and the blood debts we have to repay.”

“Before we head for the gypsies though, we’re making one stop along the way. One quick heist, because if we can get our men back without bloodshed, by the Gods, I won’t risk another one of you.” I locked eyes with the one who deserved to talk for Spade. “Geoff, any words?” I asked a lot of him to speak of his dearest friend in front of the crew, but anyone else would be an injustice.

Geoff made his way to my side with a frown on his face and stark sorrow in his gaze. He settled next to me, and though his voice didn’t carry as loud as mine did, he didn’t need the volume in lieu of the graveyard hush settling over the deck.

“For near a decade, there was one man I knew would always be at the helm. He had this possessive way with it, and trying to wrench the wheel from his grip could be a fierce struggle. I’d know—usually I was the one fighting for my turn. But Spade wasn’t a man of many words, and no lengthy soliloquy will capture his spirit. He loved this ship with all his heart, and he loved the crew. A more loyal man would be rare to find.”

Geoff lowered his head and strode amid the crew, losing himself in the crowd. He’d held himself together for the important moment, regardless. I maintained the silence, staring out at the night sky a little longer and wishing it didn’t look so bleak.

Finally, I stepped up, reining the crowd in. “Say your final words, as we’ll bury him when we stop off. If you need me, you can find me in my cabin. Isabella and Mordecai, follow me—we have a heist to plan. The rest of you—summon your courage. We’ll be taking the battle to the gypsies, and we
will
get Seth and Adelle back.” Those words echoing harsh in the thinning air, I made my way across deck towards the cabin.

Before I reached the door, Edward and Viola stepped into my path.

A gentle smile on her face, she met my gaze. “We never did get the bounty you promised.”

I heaved a sigh, irritation compounding with the sadness already weighing down my limbs. Right now, I didn’t want to deal with this. I opened my mouth, ready to retort when Edward interjected.

“She’s trying to say in her too-subtle way we’ll help.” His hand clamped on my shoulder in reassurance.

The anger dissipated to the shadows it came from. “Ah,” was all I managed. “We’d appreciate the backup.”

“As we appreciate someone who keeps their promises,” Edward responded. For a moment, in the way he stood, straight-backed like an officer, I could almost picture the man once redcoat. “Witnessing life aboard here, I can imagine now what happened those years ago.”

I tilted my head towards the cabin. “Well then, best you two join me to plan.”

***

By the time we’d pulled into one of the docks near Portsmouth, we’d scrapped together some semblance of preparation. Geoff had taken over steering, as no one else came close to his skill. Apart from Adelle, he was our last remaining navigational expert. During the meeting I let Edward and Viola take the reins with one stipulation—we required the amulet which proved her bloodline—the rest they could loot as they saw fit.

“Adding burglary to our repertoire?” Isabella attempted the banter even though her voice softened with sadness.

“I mean, we already commandeered a ship.” I gave her a lopsided grin. “May as well trump ourselves up as the biggest, baddest pirates of the skies.”

Her sharp laugh followed, as raw as everything I felt. “Going to get yourself an eyepatch and monkey companion like the pirates of old?”

I scanned the skies. “Maybe one of those mechanical sparrows can sit on my shoulder.”

The Desire docked in another grimy port, free from the threat of redcoat scum since they wouldn’t wander this way. I kept a close eye out for Morlock ships but to my relief sighted none. Mordecai had been right in his assessment—if we didn’t find a way to barter us some allies and fast, we wouldn’t sail a dozen knots without running into some ship wanting to shoot us from the skies.

Dawn had risen, bleak, gray, and fitting for the task we had to perform. Because before we could gallivant off to be bad guys, we had a treasured crew member to bury. Since we were docked, Geoff joined me for this one, and we kept it small—those who’d been close to Spade or on board for more than five years.

Which left me with Edwin, Isabella, Geoff, and Jack who’d insisted on coming. As it should be, Spade’s burial was left to the closest. Our crew watched the ship while we were gone, and I prayed no gypsies caught our trail. This early in the morning, most of the gangs had cleared, and the drunks found some corner to pass out in. Which meant we walked along the isolated planks, past the docks and to the shore.