The Airship Aurelia (The Aurelian Archives) (26 page)

             
“Until what?” Hayden wondered. He sighed when Gideon just looked at him. So long as the mayor was tuned to their frequency, Gideon couldn't give them any more than they already knew. “I can manage.”

             
“Me too,” Po said weakly. “For the cap'n, I can manage.” Sniffin', she straightened her shoulders…and it occurred to her…”Oh. I just realized. The Cap'n, what he told me to—”

             
“Don't say it out loud,” Gideon snapped, then lifted his hand from her shoulder and tapped her ear pointedly. She nodded, relieved to have at least this much to tell her Reece knew what he was doin'. He
had
to know what he was doin'. “It's time to move. Po Girl, you first.”

             
Noddin', her legs as firm as butter, Po stepped into place at the head'a their line. The false daylight leeks in the alleyway flickered deliberately. Day to night, night to day. She wished tomorrow could come that fast.

             
Gideon gave the order suddenly, as Reece had. “Run!”

             
Braced for the worst, Po stumbled into a barely-controlled run, turnin' a hard left down the alley. Almost instantly, gut-rumblin' gun blasts dulled her hearin' to a buzz. Then Hayden cried out.

             
Her run slowed to a clumsy sideways skip as she twisted and saw him down but strugglin' to get up, thankfully clean'a blood. Three soldiers, their goggles makin' them look more like insects than men, spread out across the width'a the alley, aimin' with their rifles—one gun for each'a Po and her friends. Po launched herself at Hayden just as he managed a triumphant return to his feet and tackled him to the ground as the rifle meant for him fired. A five-inch crater bloomed in the alley wall over her head.

             
Roarin' as he tore outta the portico, Gideon yanked his revolver from its holster, whippin' its barrel left to right. The three soldiers dropped to a neat drum roll'a shots, clutchin' side, leg, and shoulder.

             
He and Po helped Hayden up between them, but Hayden brushed off their support with a reassurin' smile that quickly morphed into a less-than-reassurin' wince. “It's my bad ankle.”

             
“Can you run?” Po asked, scared'a his answer. He bravely nodded, swallowin' dryly.

             
Gideon, joggin' to the wounded soldiers at the foot'a the alley, started roughly tuggin' off their goggles and kickin' their rifles away from them. “You'll need these,” he said as he rejoined them and passed out the goggles. He made an exasperated noise at Po tanglin' hopelessly with hers, and takin' them back, forced them over her head so they partly folded down her ears, makin' her look like a holiday goblin.

             
The goggles turned everythin' a bloody shade'a red, but they also made it all sharper, outlined edges and brought out highlights and shadows in each individual cobblestone.

             
“What're you gonna do?” Po asked Gideon, who hadn't taken a pair'a goggles for himself and was reloadin' his revolver slowly, like he was puttin' off somethin' unpleasant.

             
“Gotta get back to—”

             
Po couldn't even process hearin' the gunshot. She screamed as his chest heaved forward and a spurt'a blood burst outta his left shoulder. With a gasp'a pain, he stumbled into Hayden, whose hands flew to the blood while his face was still registerin' with shock, as if they'd been trained to know what to do on their own.

             
Down the alley, one'a the soldiers had propped himself up against the wall and had a boxy handgun lifted to fire again. Supported by Hayden, Gideon drew his belt knife with his right arm and flicked it underhand. Po cringed, pushin' down her goggles as she looked away, but she could still hear the soldier's gun clappin' uselessly to the cobblestone.

             
Hayden, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, started limpin' Gideon over to the wall, where he propped him up with Po's help. “I think it was a clean shot,” he murmured as he pulled Gideon's collar to one side to get a look at the wound. Po couldn't understand how his hands were so steady when she was shakin' like a leaf, unable to make herself let go'a Gideon's sleeve. “Almost more of a graze. But—”

             
They all three looked back past the soldiers, hearin' the same thing: boots grindin' stone at a run, headed this way in numbers. The leeks sputtered treacherously.

             
“Well?” Gideon snapped when Po and Hayden looked at him. “Quit standin' there! You're runnin' outta time!”

             
“You need stitches,” Hayden said, and started rummagin' through his pockets, as if he actually had the needle on him. “You shouldn't be on your feet.”

             
“We can walk him.” The footsteps were gettin' louder, joined by shouts'a alarm that made Po's grip on Gideon's sleeve tighten. “Walk him till we find someplace to hide.”

             
With a curse and an irritable growl, Gideon said, “You're not gettin' it. If you don't do what Reece needs you to do, we're
all
dead.” Hayden went on rummagin', ignorin' him. “Aitch.”

             
Hayden forcefully tore his hands outta his pockets and shouted, “I'm not leaving you!”

             
“They're just gonna take me to the others. And that's if they catch me.”

             
“I don't care! This is my job! My responsibility!” Po had never heard him so on edge, or seen him lookin' so wild, so angry, or so frightened.

             
Gideon's blue eyes darted between Hayden's stricken expression and the road behind him. “Aitch,” he said carefully, “if you won't do it for me, you gotta do it for Po. You gotta get her outta here. She's your responsibility too.”

             
Po was about to protest—she didn't like bein' talked over like she hadn't a say in the matter—when Hayden's expression cleared, and his shoulders slumped defeatedly.

             
“Fine,” he said, like he understood somethin' heavier had been lyin' under Gideon's words. “Fine.” He quickly pulled off his Letoian cloak, wadded it up, and pressed it to Gideon's shoulder. “Keep pressure there. Get off your feet as soon as you can.”

             
“One thing before you go.” Gideon smirked and jerked his chin. “Go get my knife back.”

             
As Hayden shuffled to the fallen soldier, Po wanted to cry, wanted to cover her eyes with her hands, pull them away, and find everythin' better. But Da had had a sayin'.
You can't fix a problem by pretendin' it's not there.
She made herself unwind her fingers, let go'a Gideon's sleeve, and take a step in the right direction. Or maybe the wrong direction. That's what it felt like, leavin' Gideon to stand on his own.

             
“You be careful,” she told him. “Don't go and do anythin' heroic. The Cap'n will get us outta this mess, you'll see.”

             
He made a face as he shifted his weight. “Yeah. Suppose he probably will.”

             
Hayden returned with the knife and pressed its hilt into Gideon's bloodied hand, but he didn't say goodbye…just held Gideon's eyes for a second, nodded, and turned to pull Po away. All Po had time for was one quick, backward glance that showed her Gideon calmly cleanin' his knife on the stomach'a his shirt. Then their walk turned into a jog that turned into a run that turned into as much of a sprint as Hayden could manage while teeterin' on his bad foot.

             
And Po wondered, after they'd reached the up-downs and still no shots had sounded behind them, if maybe Gideon had never planned to run at all.

             
“I think I know why the up-downs weren't guarded,” Hayden said, his head down at Po's feet. They’d thought it'd be a good idea to lay across the wooden floorboards’a the up-downs so they'd be harder to see as they ascended. They spoke in breathless whispers as the cage rattled slowly up its thick rusted chain.

             
A shout echoed up from the city below. The alarm chimes were still goin', background noise more than anythin' now. “Why?”

             
“There are only two places for us to go, once we reach the top. The tunnel entrance we first came down, and the way the Letoians took Owon to the lightning mines. All paths lead to the desert. To the Rippers and the Raiders or the mines.”

             
“So we've got nowhere to go.” Hayden's silence seemed very pointed, so Po lifted her head and found him gazin' intently at her. This no-talkin'-aloud business was more annoyin' than havin' thermosphere gnats gum up her engine's bypass funnels.

             
“Think it through, Po,” Hayden encouraged softly, and his eyes flicked to the goggles around her neck.

             
Po pushed out a hard breath and squeezed her eyes shut for concentration. What had Reece said?

             
Most importantly…find Mordecai and have a moot
. Well, they didn't know where Mordecai was or have a clue'a how to find him, so that was no good. She was gonna have to start at the end and work her ways backward. Her eyes popped open and stared up at the cobwebbed iron bars'a the cage. As soon as she'd thought'a it that way, it all made sense. Mordecai was the instruction…moot was the clue.

             
Gideon had given them goggles and said they would need them. He had started them in the right direction, headin' them towards the up-downs even though they’d seemed like a dead end. But they weren't; that was the idea. Hayden was right. All paths led to the desert, to the Rippers, to the Raiders…and to Aurelia. Where else would they have a moot?

             
The mayor must not think they'd take the risk, or maybe she thought there was nothin' for them there. It wasn't as though they could fly Aurelia while she had the turbine. So even though she was likely listenin' to them right now, she had to think she had them trapped. Maybe that'd slow her down enough to give Po and Hayden the time they needed to get up into the desert.

             
Po felt as though she'd found the corner pieces'a the puzzle…the important beginnings to the full picture. Nothin' else made sense yet—why the Cap'n had sent them off together, why they needed Aurelia, how everyone else seemed to know what was goin' on—but she had hope. Because they might find Mordecai on
The Aurelia
, and Mordecai was like her da in that she couldn't help feelin' like when he was around, one way or another, things would turn out alright.

             
“We're there,” Hayden said suddenly. The cage had stopped climbin'; it swung slightly, nudgin' the loadin' dock. The windin' pass to the steel hatch in the side'a the damp rock wall was empty and quiet. “What do you think?”

             
“I think…” Po swallowed what she'd been about to say—that she thought Petric might be lettin' them go because she knew the desert was a deathtrap. “I think we should hurry. How's your ankle?”

             
He sighed as he pulled himself up by the bars, lookin' green in the face. “It's fine.”

             
“You're a bad liar.”

             
“Well, I suppose if you're going to be bad at something,” he hobbled to the door, which creaked mournfully on its hinges, makin' him flinch, “it might as well be that. Not that that's the only thing I'm…”

             
When his voice trailed off, Po took his hand and gently led him out onto solid ground. They looked around nervously, but no soldiers sprang outta the rock, no bullets sparked in the dark. They cautiously picked their way up the slippery pass to the steel door set in the mountainside. Like the up-downs crank, they had to work its spoked wheel together before it popped open with a hiss'a decompression.

             
The room was empty, which was hardly surprisin', since its hangin' lantern was dark. When they pressed their shoulders against the door and labored it shut, their feet scrapin' for traction against the damp floor, the only light in the room came through the porthole window, and the only fresh air from the tunnel overhead, though it hardly felt fresh, hot and thick as it was. Po felt like she had just closed herself in an oven.

             
“Goggles,” Hayden instructed hoarsely, and she saw his outline fiddlin' with his, tryin' to make them fit over his lenses. She pushed hers over her nose and blinked, her eyes wellin' up at the crimson brightness they laid over everythin'.

Hayden insisted he go up the ladder first, in case there was somethin' waitin' for them at the top. His climb was slow, and she could tell it was gruelin', because every time his bad ankle gave out, it was right there in her face, and she could see the funny angle he held it at as he tried to keep the weight off it. But he didn't say anythin', just readjusted and started up again. He was so much braver than he ever gave himself credit for.