The Iron Duke (38 page)

Mina opened her mouth to call a warning, but Trahaearn had already pivoted around and charged into the dark. A quick scuffle was followed by a thud and the sharp clatter of a blade hitting the floor. Trahaearn dragged a man back into the passageway, his forearm across the man’s throat.

“Is Colbert that way?”

Colbert’s man shook his head, wheezing and pulling at the duke’s wrist.

The muscles in Trahaearn’s arm flexed. His voice flattened, cold and deadly. “Are you certain?”

Eyes bulging, the man pointed down the corridor.

“Good man,” Trahaearn said. His arm tightened. The man struggled and slowly weakened, his eyes rolling back. The duke dropped him to the floor—just unconscious, Mina saw with relief. Not dead. She didn’t want to think that he’d have killed a restrained, unarmed man.

Scarsdale must have read her expression. As they followed Trahaearn, he said softly, “That man is just crew. And you don’t kill crew unless they’re a threat.”

Mina understood. This wasn’t a ship. But since no law ruled this place, they used the law they knew.

And that also meant his treatment of Colbert—who wasn’t crew—would be guided by a different set of rules.

A harsher set, Mina guessed. Colbert obviously didn’t take care of his own well. That man proved to be the only guard they met, and the secured chamber opened easily. Inside, steel cages housed hissing zombies. Others contained a lion, a small gray elephant, and a sad-eyed antelope with a delicately boned face and legs. Almost a dozen men worked the levers of a lift and packed items into crates. Everyone busy, no one watching the door. And when Trahaearn and Scarsdale entered the chamber with guns drawn and backed up by Yasmeen’s men, no one was ready to shoot back.

“Colbert!” Trahaearn’s voice froze everyone in place.

Though it was easy for Mina to guess who was Liberé or native to the Gold Coast, she didn’t know how many of the paler men were French. Picking out Colbert wasn’t difficult, however. Although his buff trousers and white shirt were streaked with dirt and sweat, they’d been fashioned at obvious expense. His brown beard didn’t quite hide the softness of his jaw. Thick gold rings studded with rubies bedecked his fingers.

Slowly, Colbert propped a painting wrapped in cloth against a crate. He faced the door. “Trahaearn. You’ve come looking for the
Terror
?”

“Yes.”

Mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he looked to the nearest man. “Finish with these crates. I want them ready for the airship in twenty minutes. Looters,” Colbert explained as he approached the door. His pale blue eyes flicked uneasily from Trahaearn’s guns to Scarsdale’s. “Waiting this madness out is best done above. Your weapons aren’t needed, Your Grace. I’ll tell you now: The
Terror
isn’t here.”

Trahaearn didn’t holster his pistols. “I know. Hunt has her. Where?”

“South. They weighed anchor two days ago.”

“He’s had the
Terror
for ten days, and there’s an English fleet nearby. Why risk waiting so long to leave?”

“There was a sickness among a few of the crew. It took him time to secure more hands.”

Mina’s heart jumped. Only a few? “What kind of sickness? Bug fever?”

“I don’t know what kind of sickness.” Colbert’s gaze settled on her, seemed to weigh and measure. She wondered what price he’d set. His attention returned to the duke when Trahaearn asked, “Did he sell any boys through you?”

“No.”

Mina’s relief billowed through her. That meant Andrew was probably still on the ship. Sick, perhaps. Not sold. But her relief was short-lived.

“Men line up at the harbor looking for work,” Trahaearn said. “Why did it take so long to find a crew?”

Scarsdale said softly, “Perhaps his reputation finally caught up with him.”

“No.” Colbert gestured to the cages. Disgust curled his mouth. “He bought zombies and took them aboard—shipping them to Australia, for a new game he’s set up. A rotten business, if there ever was one.”

Mina stared at him.
Zombies
aboard Andrew’s ship. With just one faulty lock, one little misstep, the entire crew could be destroyed—and the bug fever would have been a mercy in comparison.

“You sold him the zombies?” Scarsdale’s face had hardened into a smooth, dangerous mask.

Trahaearn’s gaze was sharp and cold, an icy razor that would have flayed Mina to the bone. Colbert seemed oblivious to it.

“I only provide the merchandise. I don’t dictate how it’s used. I’m not a tyrant.” Looking slyly pleased with himself, he patted sweat from his neck and brow. “And it matters little what he’s bought if you will be chasing after the
Terror
. I daresay Hunt will finally get what is coming to him, will he not?”

Revolting.
That Colbert hated Hunt was clear—as was his reluctance to stop the man himself. But he’d happily send Trahaearn to do it.
Coward.

Whether Trahaearn was just as disgusted, she couldn’t tell. And he couldn’t act on it yet, anyway. They still needed to know more.

“The weapon that was demonstrated,” Trahaearn said. “Has the auction taken place yet?”

Colbert laughed and lifted his hands. “The firebombing outside? That is my unhappy patron.”

“You auctioned firebombs?”

“No, no. That is Bushke. He wanted the Horde’s weapon to create a new place on the ground, you see? But yesterday during the auction, he was outbid. And so the wrath of New Eden rained down upon us.”

Trahaearn frowned. “Bushke did this?”

“Yes. He accused me of cheating, of setting up the auction for my family to win. But even they were outbid.”

“Then who bought the weapon?”

Colbert laughed, mopping his brow again. “And risk more of this? No. Bushke was enough. Now you will threaten to kill me if I do not tell you—but if you do kill me, still you won’t know. And so go on, Your Grace. Find your boat and leave us be.”

Colbert was too afraid to tell them who’d purchased the weapon? Not too afraid of Trahaearn, Mina realized—he was too afraid of the buyer’s retaliation. Who had that much power?

But whoever it was, Colbert had chosen to fear the wrong one. His triumph when Trahaearn holstered his guns transformed to sick fear when he glanced up at the duke’s face. In one quick stride, Trahaearn fisted his hand in Colbert’s brown hair and yanked the man forward, deeper into the cargo chamber.

Screaming in French, Colbert tried to dig his heels in. Trahaearn was relentless, dragging him toward the cages. The men all looked up from the crates and the merchandise. Not a single one moved for a weapon, though Colbert continued screaming—for help, she guessed by the high, desperate pitch, though she didn’t comprehend a word of it.

Trahaearn shoved him toward the zombie cage. Inside, the thing raged and reached through the bars, filthy fingers only inches from Colbert’s throat.

“Who bought the weapon?”

Colbert screamed and babbled, but he must not have given the answer. Trahaearn pushed the man closer to the zombie’s grasping claws. Long bleeding furrows opened on Colbert’s neck.

This time, Colbert’s frenzied babbling held a placating note. Mina didn’t understand it, but Scarsdale’s reaction to the man’s answer was clear.

“Fuck,” he spat.

Trahaearn’s shoulders had gone rigid, and Mina realized he was deciding whether to throw Colbert closer to the cage, anyway. She couldn’t let him. Although the man might deserve it, a diseased Colbert would endanger everyone.

After an endless second, he pulled the man away from the zombie’s claws and drew a revolver. In low French, Trahaearn asked another question. Colbert answered, sobbing. Trahaearn nodded, and Mina almost jumped out of her skin when he suddenly fired at the zombie. Then into the second zombie’s cage, and another, until only the animals were left, wild-eyed and panicked by the noise.

Trahaearn glanced over his shoulder at Scarsdale. “Do you want him?”

“To pay for Brimstone?” Scarsdale shook his head. “He’s too pathetic. I’ll wait for Hunt.”

That seemed to satisfy Trahaearn. Pushing Colbert to his knees, he booted the man into a small empty cage and locked it. He looked to the workers watching them with flat eyes. “You’ll make more money selling these items than you’ll ever earn from him—and he’s too much of a coward to take revenge.”

The men looked to each other. By the time Trahaearn reached the corridor, they were already gathering up items, breaking down crates. On his knees within the cage, Colbert began shouting. No one stopped.

Mina was glad when the chamber door closed behind them. “Will he be let out?”

“These men will let the animals out before they will him,” Trahaearn said. “But he’ll eventually be found.”

Satisfaction stamped Scarsdale’s features. “And everyone will know he’s a coward. He’ll never hold on to anything again.”

The duke nodded. “He’ll pay.”

Outside the entrance, the quarter still burned. They had a few moments of relative quiet between the building and the gates. Mina didn’t waste them.

“Who bought the weapon?”

Trahaearn’s jaw tightened. “The Black Guard.”

Shock held her silent almost until they reached the gate. Jasper Evans had said the weapon’s price began at twenty-five thousand livre. That kind of money couldn’t have come just from the sale of slaves. There must have been other sources.
Many
other sources, each contributing enormous amounts . . . and the Black Guard must be much bigger and more powerful that she’d imagined.

“Did he know where they took it?”

“It’s on a ship. It
is
a ship—
Endeavour
, an old English collier. The engines and electrical generators that the weapon needs were too big for an airship, and too big to transfer to another vessel. So he sold the whole damn thing.”

“Where is it headed?” But Mina feared she knew. At least one member of the Black Guard wanted to kill buggers. And they’d purchased a weapon designed to destroy nanoagents. A sick dread rose through her chest. “England?”

He met her eyes. The set of his mouth was grim. “Yes.”

 

 

Mina shot Scarsdale with an opium dart as he boarded the
platform. She helped Trahaearn stow the unconscious bounder in his cabin, then returned above decks to meet with Yasmeen.

“Is the English fleet in the harbor? We have to tell them about the ship.”

The aviator captain looked from Mina to Trahaearn. When he nodded, Yasmeen shook her head. “The fleet has gone. My runners reported that they weighed anchor yesterday.”

Just as Baxter had told them. The fleet had been scheduled to return to England. But it wouldn’t be difficult to catch up to them.

Lady Corsair
’s engines fired. Yasmeen raised her brows toward Trahaearn. “Where to now, captain?”

“South,” Trahaearn said. “I’ll be damned if Hunt sees another sunset on the
Terror
.”

South . . . while the Black Guard took the device to England. “No,” Mina said. “We can’t. We have to fly north.”

Yasmeen paused with her cigarillo halfway to her mouth, lips parted. She glanced at Trahaearn.

His face had set. Taking Mina’s hand, he pulled her along with him to the bow. Should she be glad he didn’t drag her by the hair? Would she suffer a lashing for contradicting him? She was too heart-sick to care.

But when he touched her, his hand was gentle, cupping her jaw. “And your brother?”

“Don’t ask me that.” She fought to keep her voice from breaking. Andrew might be alive. But if that weapon reached England, the rest of her family wouldn’t be. “Please don’t. That device will kill everyone within a two hundred mile radius. And it’ll be so easy. They’ll sail up the Thames. Then London will be gone. Almost all of England. Do you care?”

Did he at all? Or did he just care for the
Terror
? For his possessions.

“I care.”

“And you’re not lying?” She couldn’t tell. And hoping he spoke true wouldn’t make it so.

“No. Trust me.” His thumb smoothed over her cheek. “But even if you don’t believe it, Mina—my people are in London, too. You believe I care about that? That I’d take care of them?”

Swallowing past the ache in her throat, Mina nodded.

“All right. Now, listen. If Hunt weighed anchor two days ago,
Lady Corsair
will catch up to him within a day. And
Marco’s Terror
is a fine ship. Fast. We’ll find her, we’ll head north, and we’ll overtake
Endeavour
.”

“And we’d still be four days behind.”

“I’ll catch her. I’ll have her before she sees Europe—and she’s behind the fleet, who’ll give us the firepower we need. As soon as we’ve found the
Terror
, Yasmeen can scout ahead and find
Endeavour
, then fly on north to warn the fleet. But we’ll find the
Terror
and your brother first.”

Indecision warred through her, feeling as if it might tear her apart. She wanted to believe that it would happen as he said. Oh, how she wanted it. But to gamble
so
much? She didn’t know.

“Trust me, Mina. I know these waters. I know my ship. And I know what an old collier like
Endeavour
can do. She’s wide-bottomed, heavy, and square-rigged. This time of year, the winds from the east will favor fore-and-aft sails, and the
Terror
’s canvas is rigged to run. We’ll catch her. Trust me.”

Did she? She must. With a shuddering breath and a nod, she said, “All right, then. South.”

He kissed her. As if that were a signal to Yasmeen, bells rang around them. The propellers began to spin, thrusting the airship forward.

Trahaearn lifted his head. “We’ll spend tomorrow searching the water, and we’ll find them, Mina. So come with me now, to sleep. We can’t look for them if we can’t keep our eyes open.”