Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1) (11 page)

She turned to the first mate as they made their way inside the ship for lunch. “Any word on our other two passengers?”

“I sent a message this morning. I trust they’ll be here in time,” she answered confidently.

Rachel studied her. “What is it about these two that has you so convinced we need to help them? I don’t recall the last time you were quite this adamant about anything.”

Iris gave a half smile. “The last time I had cause to be was when you were of the opinion that Danton was not worth the effort to hire nor for the money he was asking.”

This stopped Rachel as they proceeded down the passageway. “It was an outrageous amount of upgrades in the galley, Iris. I still shudder to think of it. But that’s beside the point. Are you telling me this is one of those ‘feelings’ of yours?”

“It is.”

“Then why in the world does Danton take issue with them being aboard?”

Iris shrugged. “Perhaps jealousy?”

“Jealously?”

“I think he suspects there’s more to my motives than simply wanting to help them in their quest.”

Rachel chuckled. “And here I thought you were unaware of his feelings.”

She frowned. “Even if I am not interested in such things, it doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to them.”

“I think he might not realize it himself, poor man. But after hearing of his family, I can understand why he would deny himself feelings for anyone other than them.” Rachel said no more as they entered the ship.

Silas awoke that morning to the sound of knocking and only a slight headache from the whiskey the previous evening. Before he could answer it, an envelope slipped under the door, and footsteps retreated down the hall. Groggily, he slid out of bed. As he picked up the paper, Eddie sat up and rubbed his eyes.
 

“What is it?” He yawned.

“Dock ninety-three. Departing at six p.m.,” he read from the paper. “It seems as though we’ll be leaving this evening.”

Eddie jumped out of bed. “Can we go early? I want to see them start up the engines and have a look at things before we go. Can we?”

It was entirely too early for anyone to have so much enthusiasm about anything. “Easy, Mr. Maclaren. The voyage to Singapore is a long one. There’ll be ample time for you to thoroughly investigate all corners of the ship.” Silas ran his fingers through his unruly hair and flopped back down on his bed.

“But can we?” he repeated.

“I don’t know, Eddie. Don’t ask me questions so early in the day. I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“Well, then let’s do that. The boy that works downstairs said this place is well known for their biscuits.” He was already pulling on his socks and trousers.

Silas muttered incoherent words at being cursed with an apprentice with so much exuberance before ten in the morning.

They spent the day much as they had the previous one, seeing a few sights, before heading to the ship for departure. They left the
Aux Vieilles Armes
and headed back into the streets of La Rochelle. The two passed an old cemetery that boasted the most unusual headstones in all of Europe: a burial ground for inventors and machinists with outlandish grave markers. The highlights of the visit included a diorama of the 1862 World’s Fair with a miniaturized model analytical engine, and one man who had a generator for the cemetery built as his headstone. This in and of itself was not fascinating, but the steam whistle melody it played whenever you walked past was quite lovely. There was a playable calliope, and a massive music box with a key that required two people to wind it. It was positively hair-raising to stroll past the coiled generator within a birdcage. There had been so many fascinating things to look at that it was nearly three o’clock before they wandered out of the cemetery. With barely enough time to grab a bite to eat and retrieve their belongings, dock ninety-three and the
Antigone’s Wrath
beckoned.

Rachel tapped her foot impatiently as she felt the seconds tick by. Everything was prepared for departure, yet their two mysterious passengers had not made their appearance.

“You’re sure they received your message?” she asked.

Iris sighed. “My message said we were departing at six. It’s fifteen minutes past four right now. They’re well within the limits I set for them. Don’t be so impatient.”

Rachel stood up from her chair. “I’m simply ready to be away from here. The longer we stay, the greater the chances we’ll be detained.” She didn’t need to clarify by whom they might be detained. “I’m going for a bit of air.”

“Do not call it anything but what it is.” The first mate did not look up from her book. “You’re going to watch for them and nothing more. This is pointless as it won’t speed their arrival.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, refusing to acknowledge that Iris was correct about her motivations. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t do well with delay. It was difficult to not feel on edge while sitting on a boatload of illegal cargo going to a destination that was currently under a blockade. To top it off, they were taking on not one, but four additional passengers she wasn’t familiar with, and two of them were keeping her from leaving.

She leaned on the railing at the bow of the ship and closed her eyes, imagining them already away. A light breeze lifted her hair, and she looked out down the pier.

A knot of dread tied itself in the pit of her stomach. Coming down the dock carrying a small wooden crate was a man she most definitely recognized. She rubbed her eyes, convinced she was only seeing things, yet there he was again, even closer and clearer now. As she stared, dumbfounded at the coincidence, a young man appeared next to him, talking excitedly as he hefted their baggage. Surely fortune was not such a fickle mistress that these were her mystery passengers?

She backed away from the side and plastered herself against the forward mast, too stunned to fully grasp the implications of this turn of events. She never considered for a moment that the man she shared such an intimate encounter with would be someone she would have to face every day on their voyage to Singapore. The more she thought back to their conversation, however, the more plausible this seemed, and she wondered how she could have missed the many similarities between the Silas she knew, and the man Danton and Iris agreed to give passage to. Her head spun as she tried to think of any way at all to keep this from happening, but fate decided and thought of anything she might come up with to thwart it.

“Ah, Miss Singh!” His familiar voice sounded behind her. Time sped up without her, and he was already aboard. “A pleasure to see you again! I do hope we aren’t too late?”

She couldn’t turn herself to look.
 

“Mr. Jensen, I’m glad you could make it. The captain was worried that perhaps you wouldn’t be joining us after all.” Iris’s pleasant voice greeted the passengers.

“If only,” muttered Rachel.

“Of course not! Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I dare say young Eddie here would’ve had my head if we’d missed the underway.” He chuckled. “So where is Captain Sterling? I’m quite interested in meeting him.”

Rachel groaned to herself. This was not going to go well. She steeled herself and prepared for a very rough few weeks.

“It seems you already have.” She rounded the side of the mast, keeping her face unreadable. “Although I hadn’t thought we’d meet again so soon.” She forced herself not to choke on the words.

At the sight of her, Silas nearly dropped the wooden box. “R-Rachel?” Was all he managed to sputter out.

Iris looked nearly as shocked as Silas. “You’ve already met?” She looked from one to the other, a look of understanding slowly creeping over her face. Rachel repressed the urge to strangle her first mate as she could see the fits of laughter Iris would undoubtedly subject her to later. Rachel shot her a deadly look, and the smile faded from her face, leaving only the pink in her cheeks and the amused sparkle in her eye. “Well, this is a happy coincidence then. Introductions aren’t necessary.”

“You’re the captain?” the boy blurted out. “But you’re—”

“Someone you’d do well not to insult,” she interrupted him coolly. “And you are?”

He saluted her, which only earned him a raised eyebrow. “Edison Maclaren, ma’am. At your service.”

Rachel crossed her arms and studied him. “So you say, but we shall see.” She turned to Iris, still refusing to meet Silas’ confused gaze. “Best have them shown to their room. We’ll be off immediately.”

“Aye, Captain.” Iris spun on her heel and started off, still abundantly amused at this turn of events. “Come on then. This way.”

Eddie bounded after Iris, Silas hesitating a moment before following behind. When they were below deck, Rachel turned and knocked her head against the mast. This would be a very rough few weeks, indeed.

“How do you know Captain Sterling, Mr. Jensen?” Eddie asked as he trotted backwards behind the crewman showing them to their room. Ms. Singh had gone back topside to assist the captain in pulling the ship out from the dock as soon as she found a spare man to show them the rest of the way.

Silas was unsure how to answer this question, so he did it as vaguely as he could. “I wouldn’t say I really know her all that well.” That was not a lie. “I met her the night before last at my lodgings while you stayed aboard the ship.”

“Bit odd for a captain to be a woman, isn’t it?”

“If she’s as competent as I hear tell, I think it makes no difference. Nor should it to you.” His gaze stayed fixed to the back of the man escorting them.

They came to another stairwell and Eddie was forced to turn around or risk plunging backwards and headlong down the metal steps.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he continued once they had reached the bottom. “Just meant that it was out of the ordinary. Say, if you met her already, how come you didn’t know she was the captain of this ship?”

“Because she didn’t tell me, obviously.”

“If I was the captain of a ship like this, I’d tell everybody!”

Silas chuckled. “Some people don’t need the entire world to know what they do or where they do it.”

“I suppose not, but I thought Captain Sterling was famous?”

“No,
infamous
. There’s a difference.”

“So how come no one knows she’s a she?”

Silas sighed impatiently. “Perhaps it’s because no one thinks to ask. I don’t know, Eddie. Really, how do so many questions fit inside that head of yours?”

Eddie shot him a cross look. “Did you fight with her or something?”

“What?”

“With Captain Sterling. Did you spill your ale on her or insult her mother?”

“Why on Earth would you think so?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like she didn’t like you much, is all.”

“No. Now watch where you’re going,” Silas said. The man they followed led them down a final passageway and stopped in front of a metal door that looked much like all the others they passed. “S-15” was engraved on a brass plaque on the front, the only indicator that it was any different than any other room on board. The crewman unlocked the door and opened it while Silas hauled his crate inside and set it between the cots. Without so much as a word, the man tossed him a key, turned, and went back to whatever task he’d been pulled from.

Silas and Eddie took in their little piece of the
Antigone’s Wrath
. They’d be calling these four walls home for the duration, but it wasn’t much to look at. They were surrounded by steel and wood on all sides, with the exception of a small rug in the middle of the room that was so faded you could no longer tell if it had ever had a pattern. There were two cots that looked more comfortable than their beds on the last ship, so that was an improvement, at any rate. A single porthole showed them they were right above the dock’s level.

A horn sounded three times and the ship lurched beneath them, catching them off guard.

“Oh no!” Eddie cried as he found his footing. “I’m missing all the action!” Before Silas could stop him, he bolted out the door and was on his way back to the upper deck. He could only hope he wouldn’t get in the way and get tossed overboard. Not wanting to add to the problem, Silas flopped down on one of the cots and did his best to relax and think of how to stay out of Rachel’s way over the course of the journey.

Rachel tried to pretend nothing happened when Iris entered the pilothouse. She set about departing immediately, not allowing the Iris time for a snide comment about her familiarity with Mr. Jensen. All preparations were made before the passengers arrived, so they pulled away as soon as the first mate took her place at the controls.

The underway went smoothly, despite young Edison’s appearance after they began moving. The lad was anxious to help and to learn about the ship, but when she’d rather leave and not worry about inexperienced hands, it was more irritating than it was helpful. She’d have a crewman teach him a few things when all was settled down, but for the moment she wanted him out of the way.

“Shall we prepare to go airborne?” Iris asked, tweaking a pressure valve to allow for the current.

Rachel considered, and then shook her head. “No, I think not. We’ll keep to the sea for now, and maybe cut over land at Cameroon. I’d prefer to avoid attention until it can’t be helped any longer. As I’m not sure where the blockade forces are set up, we’ll most likely stop in Baraawe and gather information there. It would be considerably easier to do that in Muqdisho, but as we’re going for stealth, Baraawe is a safer bet. And if we can’t find what we need there, I’ll send you or Danton north.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” Iris said innocently.

“Do not test my mood, Iris. I haven’t the patience for it today.”

A muffled chuckle was barely audible before the “Aye, Captain,” that followed.

There was no more discussion until they were well clear of La Rochelle. Rachel plopped back into her chair and tried to release the tension of the past two days. She hated this constant edginess. Even her past brushes with the law didn’t leave her feeling so hunted. There was a deeper pursuit for her now, one she couldn’t track or predict. Any eyes could be enemy eyes and not only ones behind the guise of a uniform.