Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

It was an old-style ship, the buxom figure of Aurora riding proudly at the prow. A young lad raised his signal flags and began his message once more. Nick nodded to himself. Reading the signals was one of the first skills he’d picked up when he’d taken to the air. “He keeps repeating Morrigan Bay over and over.”

“Morrigan Bay is in the Caribbean,” the Schoolmaster offered. He was clearly curious but trying to stay out of the way. Nick approved.

“Ah,” Striker said. “Then I know what Roberts wants.”

So did Nick. The raid on Morrigan Bay was one of those tavern favorites that pirates loved to tell when the rum ran freely and the candles guttered. “Then you’d best get to the engines.”

“Aye, Captain,” Striker said with a feral grin as he swept from the deck, his coat furling behind him.

“What’s going on?” asked the Schoolmaster. “What does Morrigan Bay mean?”

“It’s a tactic. You can only do it when the clouds are right and you have the proper ship. One that can fly like a feather.” Nick turned to the bosun. “Poole, signal acknowledgment to the Dawn Star . Digby,” he said, glancing at the tall, red-haired airman, “take us up.”

“Aye, sir.”

Digby saluted, but Athena was already lifting the ship high into the clouds. Through the window, Nick could see the ash rooks fall away like drifting petals, not able to follow the sudden vertical lift. The motion of the ship beneath their feet made the Schoolmaster grab for the wall. Suddenly, the windows were blocked with white mist, and then just as quickly the bridge flooded with brilliant sun. Below, a cushion of cloud swirled like a bowl of whipped cream.

“How can you see the enemy?” the Schoolmaster asked, both hands against the glass as he peered down.

“We will, when it’s time.” Anxiety chewed Nick like a rat caught in his gut. He paced the bridge, passing his chair three times but never sitting down. In fact, the captain’s job seemed to involve very little relaxation. He returned to the window, looked out, and tried to estimate where they were. He was lost until he saw a break in the clouds and caught a glimpse of the ships ahead, bright red balloons like cherries ripe for picking.

The Athena ’s engines slowed. What now?

Nick was already in motion, glad of something to do. A table sat to one side of the bridge, and on it sat a large polished basin half filled with water, a green glass bottle next to it, sealed with a cork. Nick pulled the cork and poured out a generous measure of rum, carefully floating it on the water. Then with a word, he set it alight. Flames rose, blue and wild, but he gentled them, letting the devas of the high winds soak into the fire. It would burn as long as he needed it. Show me , he commanded, flexing his will.

The fire shimmered, and all the ships came into view, tiny miniatures in three dimensions suspended over the silver basin. At the very top, a tiny replica of the Athena bobbled in the waves of heat. I’m getting good at this , Nick thought.

“Blood and thunder,” the Schoolmaster said, circling around the table to see the display on all sides. “How does that work?”

“With a great deal of concentration,” Nick said.

“More magic.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not complaining.”

In the moments since he’d brought them into view, the pirate ships had spread out. Laforge’s ship, the Belle , was light and quick. She was running out a long steel rod that Captain Laforge called the aiguille , or needle, designed for midair skirmishes. The other two were opening their cannon bays and holding position.

Then he heard the prince and Digby curse under their breath and he was forced to agree. The enemy, which had been flying a wedge, was breaking apart. If they kept coming, the pirate ships would be swarmed in a matter of minutes.

“Why don’t they move?” the Schoolmaster demanded, looking as if he wanted to poke the tiny ships with his finger to get them going.

“Scarlet’s ships don’t even know we’re here, even though we’re sitting above their heads,” Nick replied.

“And the other pirates?”

“They’re waiting for us,” Nick replied.

“To do what?”

“This.”

Almost silently, Athena released the first shower of explosives. The miniature ship in the fire did the same, and after a long, agonizing count, three red dirigibles directly below them burst into flame. It would have been better if there had been more, but three was still good.

They saw the explosion in the fire a moment before the roar of the bombs shook the ship, making the fiery water in the bowl lap the sides. “Almost two to one now,” the Schoolmaster said. “That was a brilliant move!”

“We grab the chances when they come along.” It was almost the same thing Nick had said about Evelina, but it was just as true. He knew they’d gone about as far as any plan would go before it came apart at the seams.

He was right.

I LOVE HIM.

Evelina had gone over the fact a dozen times before she opened the hatch that led to the rooks’ perch, but she didn’t deny herself the pleasure of one more repetition. He’d known just when to kiss her. Whatever came next, he’d given her the courage to face it, because he’d held her in his arms.

Even better, he’d given her a problem to solve. A black mass of feathers lay on the deck of the roost, as if the rook had crawled into the corner to die. It was panting, beak open, wings sprawled to the sides. Pity pulled a noise from deep inside her. She couldn’t speak to the creatures the way Nick could, so she crooned gently as she stroked the bird’s feathers, trying to assess its injuries.

The rook wore a helmet and breastplate, and that might have been what had kept it from being killed outright. Nevertheless, the breastplate was still bloody, as if punched through with steel claws. But what on earth was big enough to fight a rook? They weren’t small birds, more the size of a small goose than a crow. But that was precisely the task Nick had set her: to find out what new enemy was silently stalking the ship and attacking their allies. The rooks had often made a difference between victory and defeat, and the loss of any one of their flock was a blow to the crew.

She gathered the bird into her lap, letting it absorb her warmth as she released a thread of healing magic. What came back to her was a flood of images, but little she could interpret. The birds saw differently, and her brain couldn’t sort through the information the way Nick’s could. But she did learn that this was Saria, Gwilliam’s mate.

“I’ll have you back to him as soon as I can,” she murmured, and Saria opened one shrewd black eye.

Healing magic had been one of the first lessons Magnus had taught Evelina and it came to her easily. When Saria was strong enough, Evelina turned the bird over and removed her armor. The rooks hunted their own meat, but Nick kept water in their roost. Using her handkerchief, Evelina dribbled some into Saria’s beak. The bird drank it down greedily and soon hunched in her lap, allowing Evelina to wash her wounds.

As she worked, a number of the smaller, younger birds crowded into the roost. These were the ones with no armor, too inexperienced to fight, and Evelina guessed the battle must be near. She crouched in the corner of the roost, bracing herself and cradling Saria, so when the Athena suddenly rocketed into the sky, her ears popped but both of them were entirely safe.

The battle has started . If there was an enemy, they would show themselves now. Wanting both hands free, she wrapped Saria in her shawl and tucked her in a safe corner. Then Evelina crawled to the opening the rooks used to fly free, keeping low to avoid the pull of the wind. She heard the rattle of the bay doors open and the bullet-shaped bombs drop like scat. She scuttled away from the opening, gripping the heavy poles the rooks used to roost. Light flared from beneath, and a cascade of guttural roars shook the ship. The rooks croaked, flapping and rustling. Heavy wings smacked her arms and she ducked her head, waiting until the birds calmed. The stink of rook and aether was joined by a choking stench of smoke.