Authors: Sharon Joss
Within a few minutes, Simon had freed both Roman and Louie from
their chains. They searched the hold for anything they could use as a weapon,
but found nothing—not so much as a barrel stave.
“I cannot set the
charges down here,” Louie told them. “It’s too wet and I don’t have enough
powder with me to blow a hole in the bottom of the ship and sink her, like we
planned. But if I set charges in the engine room, I can disable the engine. It
may not stop her, but I think I can slow it down.”
The stairs led up to an unlit companionway. From the motion of the
ship, Simon imagined they’d moved into the current. Keeping the light in his
fingers to a mere glow, he led the way, hoping that most of the undead crew
would be on deck.
One flight up, they found the passageway to the engine room. Louie
took the lead, and the deafening roar of the pistons covered the sound of their
entry.
The room was a sauna— far hotter than the much smaller
engine room of the
Il Colibri
. There
was no escape from the hot pipes and condensation. Simon spotted a foot-long
iron wrench, attached to one of the valves. Heavy, but better than nothing. He
offered it to Greenslade, but the ashen-faced policeman shook his head.
Simon wondered why there was no one in the engine room. Perhaps
the engine did not need constant tending. Or perhaps, he realized, the engineer
was in the boiler room shoveling coal. He could be back at any minute. And if
he did, they’d never hear him coming.
Louie gestured for them to wait and disappeared behind the myriad
of pipes and metal housings. Simon wedged himself into a niche behind a steel
beam, while Roman couched below an immense valve. Sweat rolled down his face.
Repeatedly, Simon wiped his face on his sweaty arm, while Greenslade appeared oblivious,
as he stared at the engine room hatch in case the engineer came back.
Just when he thought he could not stand the heat a moment longer, Louie
finally reappeared from the recesses of the engine room. He gave them another
thumbs up signal and jerked his head toward the door, just as one of the draugs
entered the engine room.
The three of them shrank out of sight behind one of the piston
housings, and the creature passed them without a second glance. As soon as he
passed out of sight, they retraced their steps until they exited the engine
room and reached the boiler room.
This time, Simon watched Louie place the pre-packed pipe bomb in
an inconspicuous place behind the main pile of coal. After measuring out a long
length of fuse, Louie affixed it to the bomb and lit the end with a match. After
checking to make sure the passageway was empty, Greenslade led the way up the
stairs to the main deck.
“How much time to we have?” Simon asked.
“Less than two minutes before the charge in the engine room goes off,”
Louie warned. “I can’t predict how much damage it will cause, but it’s not
enough to sink the ship. But it should catch their attention and bring them
running, so you need to jump over the side as soon as you’re clear. The boiler
room will go three minutes after that. It’s bigger. It will destroy the boiler,
and with all that coal in there, the explosion could start a fire, but there’s
also a danger of being struck by the flaming bits, so make sure you’re well
away.”
Greenslade looked stricken.
“What is it,” Simon asked.
The inspector winced. “I guess I like the water as much as you like
enclosed spaces, that’s all.”
Simon met the man’s worried stare with one of his own. “Nothing to
worry about, Greenslade. I‘m a good swimmer. I’m not going to let either you or
Louie drown. We’re in this together.”
They reached the companionway and crawled up the mahogany stairs
to reach the main deck. Roman reached the deck with Louie right behind him.
Simon stumbled after them, determined to stay close. He stepped
out on deck and immediately realized they had almost reached the Greenwich
dock.
Roman and Louie were already at the railing, ready to jump, when one
of the undead monsters came at them at a barefoot run. With nowhere to go, they
braced themselves against his attack, but he leapt at them and all three of
them tumbled over the side.
Welsie stepped down from the gondola of the
Il Colibri
, onto the boardwalk at Greenwich Pier. Even at this time
of night, the whole area surrounding the pier was well illuminated by gaslight.
Behind her, Arvel retracted the gondola cage as he lowered the Il Colibri to
the wide planks of the pier.
She hurried toward the boarding ramp of the
HMY Alberta
.
Arvel had been afraid to approach the pier, thinking the guards
would shoot at the ship, but she’d insisted, that it was the only way to make
them listen to her. They won’t shoot at an unarmed woman, she told him, or the
ship, either. He in turn had advised her to ask for the highest ranking
officer, and a rather bored-looking Major Norcross had been summoned. The Major
did not appear at all impressed by either the
Il Colibri
, which hovered over the pier some thirty feet above,
nor particularly surprised by her frantic and disheveled appearance.
“My name is Welsie Foine. My husband Hamm runs the horse Ferry to Greenwich
from the island.” She pointed to the dim lights on the shoreline opposite.
“Sorry Madam, I haven’t seen him,” the Major turned to the officer
standing beside him, who shook his head.
“No, you don’t understand! Please listen,” she waved her hand to
indicate the now-landed airship. “Captain Arvel Paretti brought be here to warn
you of a conspiracy against the Queen. You must get her away from this dock
immediately. Captain Paretti has volunteered the use of his ship to assist the
Queen in her escape.”
Standing in front of the boarding ramp of the
HMY Alberta,
Major Norcross and the man flanking him exchanged a
look. “I appreciate your concern, eh, Madame, but the Queen is well protected.
The hour is late, and she has already retired for the evening. I will not disturb
her based on the word of a single, rather hysterical woman.”
Welsie gritted her teeth. “I am not hysterical.” Arvel warned her
of this, and she knew she looked a fright, but there was no one else who could
deliver the warning. None of Paretti’s crew spoke English well, and Arvel
thought it better that the warning came from an Englishwoman, rather than a foreign
airship captain, even though he
had
met the Queen earlier that day.
“Please sir, just give her my message and let her decide for
herself. Sir Magnus Vetch has a crew of undead corpses and they’re coming by
steamship with the intention of kidnapping Her Majesty. Nothing can stop them. I
know you may find this difficult to believe, but one of the dead is, or was, my
husband.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“The police on the Isle of Dogs are under the thrall of Sir
Magnus. Please tell her Captain Paretti brought me here because the roads
leaving the island are blocked. Four good men have already lost their lives today
trying to warn her. And failing that, stop him. Please, just tell her it’s
about the wizard, Sir Magnus Vetch and that Captain Paretti has brought his
ship to help her. She met Captain Paretti the airshow earlier today. I believe
she was favorably impressed.”
After a long moment, Major Norcross gave a shrill whistle and a
half-dozen uniformed officers came running, rifles at the ready, and formed a circle
around her. A dozen more streamed down the gangplank and took aim at the
Il Colibri.
Oh no!
This was exactly what Arvel
feared. But before she could say anything, Major Norcross ordered the men to
hold their fire. “If this is a hoax, Mrs. Foine, I will have you and Captain
Paretti arrested. Lieutenant, you’re to watch them until I get this
straightened out.” With that, he strode up the ramp and boarded the royal
yacht.
Welsie twisted her filthy skirt between her fingers, scarcely able
to keep still. As much as she and Arvel wanted to try to help Simon, Roman, and
Louie, they both knew the men were lost. Dead by now. Like Padraig. She
shivered at the thought and wrapped her arms around herself.
Or they could be worse than
dead.
They
could very well already be like Hamm. If Hamm was at the helm of the
Slough Maid
, they could arrive at any
minute. Unlike other pilots, the timing of the tides were not a problem for
him--.
There was a sudden commotion aboard the
HMY Alberta
. Major Norcross hurried down the gangplank, barking
orders right and left. Runners were sent to the larger yacht, docked at the
opposite end of the pier. He stopped in front of her, and this time, his eyes
narrowed with intensity.
“Well, we’ll know soon enough, now won’t we?” He grabbed her by
the elbow and steered her toward the gangplank. “Come with me.”
Welsie glanced over her shoulder, looking for Arvel, but the ship
was completely surrounded.
Roman caught a quick glimpse of the creature’s ghastly features
before they hit the water.
It was the knacker, John Raikes. Or what was left of him. No
justice then that Welsie had been the one to kill him, even as she’d died at
the hands of another of these ghouls.
The cold waters of the Thames closed in on him and Roman panicked.
He kicked out, hoping to free himself from the dead thing’s grip.
Above the waterline, the flickering gaslight of Greenwich pier lit
the murky waters just beneath the surface with an eerie chartreuse light. In
one hand, Raikes had a firm hold of the front of Roman’s woolen tunic, in his
other, he clutched Louis by the throat. The draug’s dead weight dragged at
them, carrying them away from the surface as sure as an anchor.
In the silence of the deepening shadows, Roman felt as if this was
finally nearing the end of a horrible nightmare, which had haunted him since
the war. There was an air of inevitability about it all. And yet, he was not
afraid. Padraig was gone. Welsie too. His thoughts drifted again to Owain
Stackpoole, the recruit who’d shown so much promise, now destined to spend
eternity as a wraith, forever haunting the mudflats. If not for Atters, he
would have already joined their ranks. The fellow had saved his life, and he
hadn’t even thanked him. It seemed like such a long time ago.
A flash and muffled boom of Louie’s first bomb illuminated the
night sky above them. It sounded so far away.
The underwater concussion startled Roman from his lethargy.
Louie!
The little man had no part in
this. He could not let him die like this, at the hands of some malevolent
corpse, only to rise again as a ghost of the marshes for eternity.
Roman ripped his tunic open, feeling the buttons pop as he twisted
free of Raikes’ heavy grasp. Instinctively, he kicked toward the surface and
took a few hurried ragged breaths of air. Against every instinct, he took a final
deep breath, and dove back down, clawing his way through the swift current. Louie
didn’t have much time left. The gaslights along the Greenwich wharf slipped
away until they were merely dim points of light against the night sky.
Roman caught sight of Raikes’ glowing blue eyes, and they drew him
like a beacon, drawing him deeper. Weakly, Louie reached out to him, even as
the depths seemed to fall away to blackness. As he swam, Roman gave a
tremendous kick and when he reached Raikes, he wrapped his woolen tunic around
Raikes head, knotting the arms to hold it in place.
Blinded, Raikes released his hold on Louie, and began to fight to
free himself from the garment.
Louie floated past, his legs kicking weakly. A trail of tiny
silver bubbles rose to the surface from his now-empty lungs. Roman let go of
the still struggling Raikes and the dead thing continued to sink deeper into
the gloom. Using the last of his strength, he reached Louie’s inert form.
Roman’s lungs screamed for oxygen. He clasped Louie to his chest
and kicked with the very last of his strength toward the surface. It seemed so
very far away. A cold lethargy filled him. Dimly, he wondered if they would
both join Stackpoole out on the marshes.
In the pilot house, Hamm swung the wheel around hard and the ship
slewed sideways, smashing directly into the side of the
HMY Alberta
where she was tied at the Greenwich dock. Unprepared
for the sudden jolt, Simon was thrown off his feet and was thrown into the
railing. Only his sure grip kept him from being thrown overboard.
There was no time to see what had happened to Louie and Roman. The
draugs had secured the
Slough Maid
to
the royal yacht with grappling hooks, and even now were leaping aboard the
Alberta
, hacking at the crew with
cutlasses and clubs studded with iron stakes.
Simon scrambled to his feet. He had to get off the ship before she
blew, but the crew of the
Alberta
had
opened fire. The undead waded in, ignoring the gunfire, smashing skulls and
weapons alike. The bullets made no impact at all on the draugs, but as a stray bullet
whinged past his head, Simon realized couldn’t get off the ship on that side.
He crouched low and scuttled behind the mainmast, but the
scattered rifle shots had him pinned. At the far end of the pier, troops were
pouring off the larger
Victoria and
Albert II
, but Simon did not think more firepower would help.
The only way to stop the draugs was to stop
the wizard.
He scanned the deck, searching for a man he didn’t know. Someone
who looked out of place. Roman had described Sir Magnus as a white-haired,
older man. He spotted a figure in the pilot house with the Hamm thing. Could
that be him?
Almost as if he’d heard the question, the wizard turned and his
white hair reflected silver in the gleam of gaslight.
With a sudden shock, Simon recognized the cold black eyes and
square jaw as belonging to the wizard who’d killed his father.
His heart raced. He raised his fist at the man who had taken
everything from him; his family, his life, his future.
“You!”
But Sir Magnus was already moving. He leaned outside the
pilothouse and shouted to be heard over the sound of gunfire and screams. “
Torkjelson, stop him!
”
One of the draugs turned away from the melee and with an astonishing
leap, jumped from the upper deck of the
Alberta
back to the main deck of the
Slough Maid
.
He moved with alacrity and purpose, and Simon had no choice but to ascend the
mainmast rigging. The creature crawled up after him, scaling the lines with
amazing speed. The beast would soon overtake him.
Simon leapt from the
rigging to one of the halyards, and pulled himself up, hand-over-hand. The
draug was right behind him, gaining steadily.
Simon climbed higher, until he reached the top of the sailmast, There
was nowhere to go.
A shout went up from below, and he glimpsed one of the draugs
emerge from the cabin, carrying the Queen of England over his shoulder like a
sack of flour. She struggled in her nightcap and dressing gown—but she
was no match for her abductor.
Good god,
we’re too late; they’ve got her!
Sir Magnus shouted over the bedlam, “
Bring her to me!
”