Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (17 page)

Chapter 18

Owen Strong was in trouble
.

He’d lost the argument for a regular trial once Mistress
MacAllister had raised the ancient challenge. As the accuser, Owen would have
to fight.  Why the Duke was allowing a three hundred year old law to be played
out now, Owen couldn’t begin to guess. Unless Caldwell had an interest as
well?  Gregg was still attempting to stop it, all gods bless him.

“My Lord,” Gregg bellowed. “The crimes that the woman is
accused of occurred under Hong Kong law. She should be tried under the law by
the Hong Kong courts.”

“We do not see it that way
Inspector,” the Duke said evenly. “We assert that this is an internal affair of
the British Empire, and as such it should be dealt with by British laws. I’m
sure our peer, the Imperial Court Ambassador concurs.”

The Chinese official spread his
hands, unwilling to cause even more of an incident.

“Of course. Inspector you have
done good work today, but I perceive you are weary now. Perhaps some rest is in
order.”

Owen had neither time nor
thought to spare for the argument. If he was fighting, as he knew he was five
minutes ago when the Duke had
entertained
Mistress MacAllister’s ravings
and challenges, then he needed to focus on the fight, not to mention get ready
for it.

Formal duels were one of the few
times that a Magian was required to be naked. Owen suspected that it was so the
Magians could show off their sigils like peacocks, but there were two sigils
that Owen had no desire for anyone to see, as they would be if activated. Those
were the sigil of the Obsidian Order, and the sigil given to him by the
otherworldly being. He began to remove his clothes slowly while some Magians in
the ducal party laid out the formal circle.

He had just handed his suit coat
and cane to one of the Duke’s boys, when a mighty roar shook the very stones of
Peachtree House. Everyone crouched down in alarm as a huge hot wind blew over
them. Owen looked up, his heart catching in his throat. There was the most
magnificent sight he had ever seen. The Dragon rippled through the air, away
from him, glowing golden in the azure sky. As he watched, Jinhao’s familiar
whisper came to his ear. He never could catch her sneaking up on him. 

“There is an Austrian fleet in
the waters,” Jinhao said. “He goes to warn them off, I hope. How can I help
you?”

Owen went back to undoing his
cufflinks.

“Hold these,” he said dryly.
Jinhao took them and looked him in the face. “I do not think that you should do
this thing,” she pronounced.

Owen gave a small laugh. “I
don’t think so either,” he said. “They,” he tilted his head towards the
delegation, “seem to have a different idea.”

“But why,” she asked, puzzled.

“Well, I would guess that
someone in the government sees this as an ideal way to rid themselves of both a
troublesome former agent, and silence whatever deal they may have offered MacAllister
there.” Mistress MacAllister had already stripped down. She was currently
performing a series of postures and breathing patterns that were supposed to
increase focus, much to the attentive regard of many of the males present. Owen
was grateful her antics would distract from anyone looking too closely at the
sigils on his own naked body.

Jinhao raised an eyebrow at his
summation.

“I see,” she slowly hissed. “The
British would kill one of their own?”

Owen shrugged.

“I honestly have no idea, but I
would offer her an embarrassing deal as well, to try to turn her against her
Austrian handlers, that kind of thing.” He slipped off his shirt and stood
naked before her, sigils faintly glowing against his torso and arms. He reached
out a hand and the boy placed his cane in it. “Well, best be about it then.” He
smiled at her a madcap grin.

“Shouldn’t you be doing those
postures and things,” Jinhao asked.

“What, those…” Owen replied.
“They look pretty don’t they?” He raised his cane, and a dome, almost like a
heat haze, rose from the places where the Duke’s people had energized the
circle they had laid out.

MacAllister quickly stopped what
she was doing, and grabbed her wand from where one of the Duke’s men had tossed
it to the ground before he quickly stepped outside the perimeter of the dueling
circle.

Owen looked up to where the Duke stood, expectantly. If he was
thrown off by Owen’s sudden gesture he tried not to show it. What nearly undid
him was Strong’s younger pup catching his eyes just for a moment. Those cold
eyes of his seemed to say, “I’ll play your game and then I’ll come for you”. The
Duke had reports that Owen was a reprobate and dissolute, but those eyes could
have belonged to his father.

The Duke wet his lips.

“By ancient law and custom, Mistress
MacAllister seeks to defend her honor on the field of Magia, against Owen, Lord
Strong, on the charge of murder. May the Gods watch and render judgment.”

MacAllister began as Owen knew
she would. There was nothing subtle about her temperament.  A stream of
fire
blossomed outward from her wand. Owen was ready, his
water
sigil burned
for release. The onlookers were astonished that Lord Strong should employ such
a beginner’s counter with the corresponding beginner’s result; when the
fire
stream met his waterfall, the resulting steam quickly filled the dome, making
it impossible for anyone inside or out, to see anything.

Chapter 19

“Do you find the accommodations to your liking, My
Queen,” asked Captain de Vega
.

They were aboard his sky ship, the
Wayfahr,
crammed into
a basket de Vega had called the
Captain’s lookout
, on the underside of
the craft. As she was sitting in a comfortable chair with silk cushions, and expensive
furs around her legs, Ching Shih could not complain.

In fact, she would not, under any circumstances, let a word of
complaint exit her lips. It would never do if it were known that the Terror of
the Western Isles, the Dread Pirate Queen, was afraid of heights. She kept her
hands firmly clenched beneath the furs and gritted her teeth.

“Yes, de Vega”, Ching Shih said crossly, “I am fine, and don’t
call me that! How long before we sight the Westerners?”

De Vega shrugged. “It seems only appropriate for the Pirate
Queen of the Eastern Seas to have that title. We should sight the Westerners at
any moment now, provided your informant’s information is correct.  There is a
tea that many find most soothing for those unaccustomed to heights…”

“My sister’s information usually turns out to be depressingly
accurate,” she growled at him. “Nor can I be cloudy-headed when there’s a
battle afoot.”

“True.” Di Vega waved a purple-gauntleted hand. “Nor, I submit,
can you be frozen in one spot. To direct a sea battle from the air has never
been done before. You will need to move about without distraction.” His eyes
met hers, “I have no doubts about Madame’s courage, nor her wisdom.”

Ching Shih laughed, a low throaty sound. “I knew there was a
reason that I made you my Second,” she declared. “Very well, bring me your
potion. I only pray that Jinhao’s paramour has it wrong about what that vibration
bomb can do.”

De Vega started to reply when he was interrupted by the cry of
one of the lookouts, “Dragon, two points to starboard! Dragon I say! Two
starboard!”

“What is that,” De Vega said crossly. He strode angrily to the
left side of the nest.  “I have strict rules on drinking while… Madre Dios! He
is right!”

Ching Shih was by his side in a moment. Her heritage made her
eyes unusually sharp, so she needed no spyglass in order to see clearly. She
hissed at what she saw.

The dragon was moving through the air, body rippling like a serpent,
shining like molten gold. It was a common mistake to attribute wings to
dragons. Their long serpentine bodies did not require them. Ching Shih’s heart
skipped a beat.
Lohan
went to war. That would be the only explanation
for him being in dragon form.

“I have never seen such a magnificent thing in my life,” de Vega
breathed, his eye on the Dragon. He swung his glass forward of the golden form. 
Look,” De Vega pointed, while handing her the spyglass. “There are the
Austrians.”

Ching Shih took the spyglass, her eyes raking over the Austrian
formation.

“They only have one sky ship, a spotter I suppose.” They had
six themselves, a tribute to de Vega’s abilities to make raiding from the sky
profitable. 

De Vega smiled wolfishly.

“And now we shall teach them how foolish that is, as well as
whose skies these really are.” He began shouting orders to the crew. The ship
slowly turned to take up position behind the dragon.

Ching Shih knew that the spines of the sky ship were really
long poles, each tipped with an alchemical solution that repelled the ship from
the ground, so that it floated like a cork on the water. She also knew that the
ship moved by repositioning the poles so that the ship was
pushed
along.
De Vega calculated the required pole placements in his head, a feat which made Ching
Shih admit she was simply an old sea pirate. The future belonged to men like de
Vega, air pirates, but for now, he belonged to her.

She quickly stalked around the command nest, all thought of
heights irrelevant.

“Signal the other sky ships to follow us in. We’ll attack the
fleet; keep them engaged until the sea ships can close.”

De Vega nodded.

“It shall be so, My Queen!”

“And don’t call me that,” she snapped at him.

Neither they, nor their lookouts spied the small craft that
detached itself from the Austrian flagship, now moving slowly towards them.

Suddenly a great wave of vibration came sweeping over them. The
ship shuddered, stopped suddenly in place. Far below, Ching Shih could see the
ripples the vibration device made in the water.

The Golden Dragon set forth a mighty roar which seemed somehow
to quell the vibrations. He hovered like a humming bird for a moment, studying
the small craft. With another roar, he swooped down, lifting the light boat and
its deadly box-shaped passenger.

He ended the threat of the vibration device by the simple
expedient of crushing it between two claws, the remnants of the device falling
harmlessly into the ocean.

De Vega shouted for the ships to attack, and the
Wayfahr
dived towards the Austrian flagship under de Vega’s direction.

The flagship was flanked by two destroyer-class ships. All
three ships began firing their deck cannon, in an attempt to ward off the
aerial attackers. At de Vega’s command, the sky ship began firing back with the
new
aether
cannon, concentrating fire at one of the destroyers. The hot
bolts of Magia-fueled fire reached some vital magazine and the ship blew up
with a blinding flash.

Ching Shih felt a rush of air, and saw the Dragon streak past
them. He grabbed the other destroyer by its main mast and lifted it into the
air. At an attitude of a few hundred feet, he let it fall back into the ocean,
where it became a pile of wreckage when it hit the plane of water.

The
Wayfahr
meanwhile, hovered over the Austrian
flagship. De Vega bellowed for boarding, firing his
aether
pistols as
quickly as he could.  Ching Shih, grinning like a mad woman, was the first over
the side, waving the large broadsword that had made her fearsome reputation.

She landed lightly on her feet, beheading one of the grey
uniformed Austrians as she came up off the deck. Muttering curses de Vega shot
the two that were coming up behind her, then drawing his own rapier, jumped to
land near Ching Shih. For long moments there was only the sound of harsh
breathing and the ring of broadsword and rapier against boarding cutlass.

Finally de Vega panted, between engagements.

“You know, you are supposed to wait until the rest of the boarding
crew can jump with you.”

“Bah,” Ching Shih replied, “Where’s the fun in that?” With a
deft twist of her wrist, she gutted her next opponent, inching ever closer
towards the raised area that held the bridge. “I want the damned admiral before
he slips away!”

As the rest of the boarders jumped over, gradually the way to
the bridge became clear. As de Vega shot the steel lock out of the bridge
hatchway, Ching Shih kicked it in. Inside, amid the gleaming instruments of the
ship’s bridge stood three masked figures. For Ching Shih it was not difficult
to pick out the admiral, whose black uniform was covered with gold braid.

She raised her dripping sword to aim it at him.

“I am Ching Shih, called the Pirate Queen of the Seas. I order
you to surrender your ship and your fleet before we kill more of you.”

The Admiral stared at the bloody apparition before him. He did
not lack for personal courage. He had been born into a military family, and had
been chosen by the Priestess of the Sun herself to lead this mission. He knew
that the Holy One would say that he should keep fighting, but being a military
man, Horst von Stuben could not abide the waste of men and ships that would
follow his pointless defiance.

“I surrender,” he said between gritted teeth. “Tell the fleet
to stand down.”

“No,” one of the other masks exclaimed. “We shall fight on to
victory!” He clawed at his holster. A gunpowder shot rang out before Ching Shih
could react. The officer slumped to the floor, Admiral von Stuben raised his
smoking pistol in a gesture of surrender. He placed it on the deck.

“Now,” he said. “Perhaps we can deal with the surrender more
quietly.”

“Very well,” Ching Shih said. “Communicate with your ships and
have them raise a white flag of surrender.”  They all winced as they saw the
dragon drop another of the Admiral’s ships from a great height, only to have it
shatter like scrap iron and kindling as it hit the water.

“I would do so quickly, before the Dragon leaves you no ships
to order.”

The Admiral gave orders and signal flags were raised and secret
messages sent away. 

De Vega prodded the Admiral outside, and they all stood in
horror at the remains of the once-powerful fleet.  Of the twelve ships of the
task force, barely half were somewhat intact. They watched as the undamaged
ones tried to save their comrades with the help of the boats and sky ships of
Ching Shih’s fleet.

“
Mein Gott
,” the Admiral breathed.

“
Aiya
,” Ching Shih said. “Now you can carry back home
the message that Hong Kong, that China, will no longer be any European
conquest.”

As if for emphasis to her words, the Golden Dragon roared as he
passed overhead, making his way back to the city.