Authors: Sharon Joss
Steam Dogs (30 page)
From the pilot house of the
Il
Colibri
, hovering some fifty feet above the Thames, Arvel pointed through
the window at the battle aboard the
HMY
Alberta
. “There she is.”
Seated beside him in the co-pilot’s seat, Nuncio nodded, his face
pale. “We’re too late.”
An sudden explosion erupted from below decks of the
Slough Maid.
A concussive blast hit the
Il Colibri,
knocking her off level. Arvel
fought to maintain control of the airship’s position. If even one of the
stabilizing propellers failed, they could crash into the cold black waters
below.
Thick black smoke poured out of the hold of the
Slough Maid
, but none of the attackers seemed
to be paying much attention.
“There!” Arvel pointed to a familiar figure clinging to the ropes
near the top of one of the masts, being pursued by an impossibly large naked
man with glowing blue eyes. “It’s Simon!” Nuncio lunged from his seat and
pulled up the access door to the gondola. “Get me close enough to throw him a
line.”
Nuncio slid through the trap and out of sight, and Arvel heard the
sound of the safety clasps being released. Nuncio’s tinny voice sounded through
the speaking tube. “Lower when ready, Captain.”
Arvel checked the stabilizers and lowered the ship as close as he
dared to the top of the mast, then began to lower the gondola.
Ten feet, twenty…
“Lower!” Nuncio urged. “I can almost reach him! I need another ten
feet!”
Simon was debating sliding down the rigging lines, just as Arvel
and the
Il Colibri
appeared out of
the gloom above him. Leaning from the open door of the gondola, Nuncio held out
a loop of rope, which twisted and dangled in the wind, tantalizingly out of
reach. The draug had already reached the top of the rigging, and was grabbing
at his feet. Thus far, Simon had managed to avoid his grasping hands, but the
creature would be on him any moment.
He glanced down at the decks beneath him. The Queen, still in her
nightclothes, had just been dumped at the feet of Sir Magnus. The gaslights
along the pier illuminated the decks of the
Alberta;
blood gleamed in black pools beneath the dead bodies and torn limbs of the crew,
while their brave comrades continued to struggle ineffectually against the
undead.
The only way to stop this madness was to stop the wizard.
Simon waved away Nuncio’s next attempt. “Throw me the rope,” he
shouted, but the rising wind and the sounds of gunfire tore his words away. He
pantomimed what he wanted and with a look of reluctance, Nuncio threw him the
entire coil.
The heavy coil reached him. Careful to keep his feet free of the
draug’s grasping paws, Simon looped and knotted one end around the mast and
shook it out to unwind. Gritting his teeth, he leapt out and away from the mast,
his hands loosely gripping the rope as it slid harshly between his fists.
But as he leapt, the draug managed to snag the rope. Simon twisted
futilely, trying to shake himself free. If he let go, he would not survive the forty-foot
fall to the deck. He clung to the rope, kicking ineffectively at the draug as
it slowly pulled him closer.
A second explosion rocked the ship, sending great portions of the
decking up into the air. Intent on reeling Simon on, the blast caught the draug
unprepared, and it lost it's footing and tumbled to the deck below.
Overhead, the
Il Colibri
backed away; the explosion had buffeted the air, and Simon could see Arvel had
his hands full. Better not to wait.
Using the rope to brace his feet against the mast, he half-walked,
half-slid down the rope as fast as he dared. A dozen feet from the deck he ran
out of rope, and dropped the rest of the way, landing hard at the bottom of the
steps leading to the wheelhouse.
He gasped at the impact, but time was running short. If he was
going to stop Sir Magnus, he had to move
now
.
Sir Magnus gave a jubilant shout to the draug who returned to the
ship with the Queen’s inert form thrown carelessly over his shoulder. “
Bring her to me!
” he commanded. Not that
there was any doubt that it would not, but the excitement of the moment and the
glut of magick pooled within him compelled him to give voice to his glee.
A sudden explosion rocked the ship. It sounded as if it had come
from near the engine room.
Alarmed,
Sir Magnus looked to Captain Foine, but he did not seem unduly perturbed.
Sir Magnus glanced around, looking for Raikes, but it was
impossible to identify individuals in all the confusion.
Now that they had achieved what they’d come for, it was time to
go. He sent mental orders to Raikes and the rest of the draugs to disengage
from the battle, cut loose the grappling hooks, and return to the
Slough Maid
for departure. There was
still some fighting and confusion, but more than half the Queen’s troops had
been decimated, and their bodies effectively blocked more soldiers from joining
the fray.
“Take us out of here, Captain Foine.”
A dull nod was all he received or expected as a reply. The draugs
could communicate, but were not verbal. Foine pushed the lever to deliver more
steam to the engines, and the ship strained against the ropes, which still
bound them to the
Alberta
. Once they
were cut free, the
Slough Maid
would
reach full speed in moments, and no one would be able to stop them.
The draug dumped the plump Queen on the deck in front of him.
She’d been pulled from her bed in her night clothes, apparently. Terrified, no
doubt. She’d always been such a ninny. Sir Magnus helped her to her feet, even
as he reveled in her helpless state.
You’re
mine now. You’ll answer to me from now on.
With a sudden lunge, the grappling lines were cut and the
Slough Maid
surged forward. They plunged
into the current. Victoria fell heavily against him, and he steadied her as he
dragged her to her feet.
Several draugs had not made it back to the ship in time, and
remained on the Alberta. It didn’t matter. He no longer needed them. He had
what he wanted. Nothing else mattered.
“Now, now, darling Vickie. There’s no reason to panic. It’s just
you and me,
remember
?” He kept his
voice in the soothing tone she was used to, and snapped his finger next to her
ear to reactivate her receptive state, before murmuring the key phrase he’d
used countless times to mesmerize her. “
Your
Impresario is here.
”
His lungs on fire, Roman held tight to the unconscious Louie. The
surface looked so very far above them.
Hold
on, Louie!
Without Raikes drag them down, they rose steadily, but not
nearly fast enough. Dark motes clouded the edges of his vision. His lungs
screamed for release, his heavy limbs burned with need.
He’d already used every last ounce of strength he possessed, and
knew it would not be enough. He could no longer feel his legs. Louie seemed
weightless in his grasp, as if his soul had already departed.
But as Roman gasped his last breath, his face cleared the surface.
He gagged and wheezed on the fresh air—nothing in his memory had ever
felt so good. He held Louie’s chin above the choppy wavelets, but was not
certain the smaller man was still alive. With leaden limbs, began to paddle toward
the Greenwich stairs, letting the current do most of the work. It was all he
could do to keep both their heads above water.
The stairs were designed to make an easy transition between the
river and the Hospital, and even at the end of his strength, Roman managed to
drag Louie from the water. He rolled the senseless man over and pushed on his
back; forcing the water from his lungs until Louie began coughing and breathing
on his own. A feeling of relief coursed through him.
He’ll live.
A dozen meters upriver, the sounds of fighting continued, even as Roman
realized
the
Slough Maid
was pulling away from the dock. They were getting away!
He shouted and stumbled toward the pier, but his hopes were dashed
as he heard Sir Magnus’s cry of victory and with a sudden lurch, the lines were
cut and the
Slough Maid
pulled away
from Greenwich pier.
Great Scott! Sir Magnus had done the impossible. He had just kidnapped
the Queen of England. And he’s getting away with it.
Roman’s howl of frustration was lost among the sharp barks of
gunshots and the triumphant bellow of the of the
Slough Maid’s
whistle as the paddle steamer entered the main
current of the Thames.
Simon dropped to the deck, his blistered hands burned like fire
from the rope. Thick smoke rolled up the stairwell and across the
deck--obscuring his view of the pilot house and Sir Magnus. Behind him, flames
licked up the sides of the cabin deck and the outside of one of the
wheelhouses.
In spite of the explosion, the engines of the
Slough Maid
now strained against the grappling lines which held it
firmly against the
Alberta
. The
paddles churned up the water on either side of the ship.
Crikes, that bastard is going
to make it. Once those lines are cut, it will be all over.
He had to act now, before
the draugs returned to the ship. Simon reached for the wrench he’d shoved into
his belt earlier, but it was gone.
He winced.
I’ve got to do
something!
He no longer had any idea what, but it had to happen
now
. Blindly, he grabbed hold of the
railing and raced up the stairs to the pilot house, the metal rails vibrating
beneath his fingers as Hamm revved the straining engines.
Simon reached the landing, and found himself only a few feet from
the wizard as he struggled the Queen. No, not the Queen. Even in this light, he
could see it couldn’t be the Queen.
She had a knife in her hand.
Their eyes locked.
Good God,
that’s Welsie!
“I thought you were dead,” he sobbed.
She started to say something, but with a sudden jolt, the draugs
had cut the grappling lines and the
Slough
Maid
l plowed into the current. The sudden movement threw Welsie off
balance and the knife in her hand clattered loudly to the main deck some twenty
feet below.
Sir Magnus shouted in triumph and shifted his grip around her neck.
He yelled to the draugs, “
Get him!
”
As one, the heavy beasts stormed back aboard
The Slough Maid
, coming right toward Simon.
He choked back the bitter taste of loss. This was it, then. Sir
Magnus had all the cards and now he and Welsie would both die. He had no
weapon. Nothing would stop those draugs. Sir Magnus had won.
With a rueful grin, Simon braced himself against the railing to
await the draugs.
The bulky layers she’d donned to disguise herself before putting
on the Queen’s nightclothes hampered her movements, but the padding and
nightcap she wore had done their job. Sir Magnus did not yet realize who she
was. Every moment she was able to fool him would give the Queen and her escort
more time to get away—Sir Magnus and his monstrous crew had arrived only
a few short minutes after the Queen and her escort had boarded the
Il Colibri
and Arvel had carried them to
safety.
From inside the
Queen’s cabin, the sounds of carnage
had been worse than she could have imagined; the undead seemed to delight in
tearing the soldiers to pieces. When she’d volunteered to act as a decoy, she
never really believed the wizard would actually carry out such a mad scheme. She’d
hoped that Simon and Roman and Louie had somehow managed to destroy the
Slough Maid
, but she’d been wrong.
And now it was too late.
The draugs had overpowered the royal navy in minutes and she’d
been whisked away with less effort than a sack of flour. Any moment, Sir Magnus
would realize his mistake. Hidden in the folds of the Queen’s own nightclothes,
she gripped the handle of Captain Arvel’s own knife. The small blade wouldn’t
do much damage, but it was all she had.
An explosion knocked her off balance, just as the draug delivered
her to Sir Magnus, and she fell at his feet. She wondered what had happened. It
had come from amidships, she thought. The engine room. Maybe the men managed to
plant a bomb after all.
She dared not get her hopes up.
She kept her head
down, as if dazed, and when Sir Magnus jerked her to her feet, she noticed the dueling
pistol Roman had been carrying, jammed into his belt.
It would be so easy to grab it. She hesitated, loosening her grip
on the knife. This might be her only chance. She glanced up to get her
bearings, and as the acrid black smoke from the explosion cleared, Simon was standing
right in front her.
Their eyes met. “I--.”
The ship gave a sudden lurch, and she was thrown against the
railing. The draugs had cut them loose. They were on their way.
The knife slipped from her fingers and
clattered to the deck below.
Sir Magnus shouted to the draugs to attack Simon.
No!
She jabbed the wizard hard
in the gut with her elbow.
He grunted, and his grip on her arm loosened.
She grabbed the gun from his belt and twisted away, even as he
reached for her. All he managed to grab was the nightcap. he tore it off, and
her hair came tumbling out. The wizard’s expression turned from surprise to
fury in an instant.
The force of his fist slammed her to the deck.