Iron Horsemen (11 page)

Genevieve gasped.

Baldarich turned to the two youngsters and cracked his knuckles until I thought he broken them. “Damn that sky-witch! We're taking back my ship.”

Captain Baldarich pulled me over to the conning tower. “When you hear all hell break loose I need you to cut the grappling lines. Take this bowie knife.” The captain handed me a huge knife with a curved tip and walked over to Genevieve. “You and I need to create a diversion.”

Genevieve unsheathed her saber. “I'll distract Zerelda.”

“No you won't,” Baldarich silenced himself to a whisper. “She's too dangerous.”

I nodded. “I agree.”

“If someone doesn't distract her she'll organize her men and we'll all be captured. Danger isn't something we can avoid.”

I waited for Baldarich to tell her how crazy she was, but from the way he stroked his moustache, I knew he was thinking about her argument.

Baldarich slapped my back. “Get in place.”

I nodded, grabbed a pair of brass and leather goggles and quietly climbed the conning tower's ladder. Genevieve followed Baldarich to the stairs. I slipped onto the Sparrowhawk, and the fierce wind whipped my hair.

The Storm Vulture hovered alongside and the grappling
lines drooped across the sky, connecting the two vessels like clotheslines hung between buildings.

Leaning over the edge, I saw Mr. Singh dangling just above the waves. It wrenched my heart to see my friend treated like a bag of tea.

An idea struck, like the lightning gun on the underside of the Storm Vulture.

Grabbing hold of the nearest grappling line with my hands and feet, I shimmed over to the other vessel. Halfway across, I dared to look down. Fear seized me but I couldn't stop. Several crewmen heaved Mr. Singh out of the water and then released the rope plunging him back into the Mediterranean. After dragging Mr. Singh through several waves they hauled him up several feet. I heard Zerelda yelling and moved faster.

I climbed onto the fuselage of the Storm Vulture. As I looked around I noticed the hydrogen tank connected to the fuselage with metal straps but a latch secured the strap. I pulled the bowie knife from the leather strap that wound around me.

The flash of sharpened steel drew my eye inside the open cargo doors on the Sparrowhawk's main deck. Zerelda smacked Gustav in the back of his head with the hilt of her sword sending him sprawling to the deck. Then she pulled Hunter close and kicked him toward the open cargo door. I hoped the captain would strike soon.

Being careful not to alert the crew still inside the Storm Vulture, I slipped over to the nearest latch. I pried it open with my bowie knife. It snapped back, whipping by my face. I jumped back. “Whoa! That was close.” I looked around, but no one investigated. No one on the Sparrowhawk noticed either.

I slid along the side of the Storm Vulture and used the knife to unlatch two more. As I moved to the fourth strap, I saw a cloud of steam erupt on the main-deck of the
Sparrowhawk. Baldarich's signal.

I saw Genevieve step through the billowing steam cloud. Bolts of lightning from Baldarich's hand cannon arced behind her.

Genevieve raised her sword. “Captain Zerelda, your time is through.”

Zerelda emerged from the white wall of fog. “Baldarich, you sent a girl to die.”

Genevieve's sword cut through the steam. “I know what I'm doing.”

“We'll see.”

Genevieve ducked and avoided Zerelda's cutlass only to have her attack blocked by the sky pirate.

Genevieve fought well, really well, but I cringed as Zerelda's sword missed.

“Aarrhhh.” Zerelda swung her cutlass wildly but a calculated Genevieve met her every stroke.

She fought just like her father had at Eton.

A bolt of electricity coursed between Genevieve and Zerelda, one of the captain's shots I bet. I had to stop watching. I had a job to do, too.

The Storm Vulture listed to one side and the strap next to me snapped from the pressure. I had done enough. Now I needed to get out of there.

I ran and leapt onto the grappling line. Snagging the rope with my arm, I struggled not to fall. I wrapped the braided line around me and secured it under my armpit.

Then I did the dumbest thing I'd ever done: I cut the rope behind me.

The wind rushed past me as I swung like a pendulum toward the Sparrowhawk.

“Alexander!” Genevieve's voice cut through the air. She'd seen me jump. As I dangled below the Sparrowhawk, I shoved the bowie knife into my leather strap and climbed, hand over hand, up the rope.

I grabbed hold of the yardarm of the wingsail and pulled myself onto the stretched canvas. Through the open cargo door all I saw were shapes darting through the dissipating clouds of steam. All I heard was the ringing of steel on steel and the stomping of shoes on the wooden deck. Sword fights and hand-to-hand combat. I hoped my friends could hold their own. I had one more task.

“Zerelda,” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Your ship is about to plunge into the sea!” I climbed up the ribbing to the first grappling line and cut it free with my knife. The Storm Vulture shook and lurched in the sky. I looked down at the deck. Zerelda screamed, and I smiled. I cut the next two grappling lines, and the crewmen of the Storm Vulture flooded out of the conning tower. I saw Tobias and knew I was in trouble, but I had to keep going. I had to cut the last line.

Tobias looked up and drew his pistol. I dove and grabbed hold of the last grappling line to keep from sliding off the Sparrowhawk. Shots rang out but flew overhead. I pulled myself back atop the vessel and drew the Thumper from my holster. Too far to strike Tobias, I hoped the flash would make him run.

I popped up and pushed the trigger, the loud shot made the men drop, and the concussive blast knocked the tattooed man on his backside. Several crewmen grabbed the drop lines they'd used to board the Sparrowhawk, and leapt off as they desperately tried to get back to the Storm Vulture. Tobias jumped onto one of the lines and swung out over the sea. I stood and grabbed the last grappling line as Zerelda emerged from the conning tower.

She raised her revolver and fired down into the conning tower. She reached for a drop line, but they were all gone. “Mutinous cowards!”

I looked at the grappling line and then at Zerelda. All that stood between her and escape was me. Her jaw
clenched as she saw the Storm Vulture pitch downward, hanging by only a couple of straps. Then her eyes widened in rage, and she raised her revolver and pointed it at my heart.

With nowhere to run and no place to hide, my heart pounded in my ears, and I couldn't draw a breath. Terrified, I squeezed my eyes shut

A click. An empty chamber. A stream of curses. And then I opened my eyes as Zerelda charged with her cutlass raised. I raised my Thumper and bowie knife. A club and knife in a swordfight, those were bad odds.

I tumbled backward as she swung and quickly righted myself to prepare for her next attack, but instead of pursuing me, Zerelda grabbed the grappling line.

She glared, her eyes pools of seething anger, as if molten lava hid behind them. “I'll remember this,
boy
. I'll remember you.”

Zerelda cut the grappling line with her cutlass and swung out over the water. She soared in an elegant arc over to the Storm Vulture, and her crew pulled her to safety.

I couldn't believe my plan actually worked. I ran for the conning tower and slid down the ladder to find Genevieve. She and Hunter leaned out the cargo door. I called her name and she spun around.

“Alexander!” She pushed her wind-blown hair out of her eyes and smiled. Her relief that I was okay was obvious, but she had other things to worry about, too. “I'm so glad you're safe.” She returned her attention to the cargo door. “Indihar!”

Remembering that he still dangled in the Mediterranean Sea, I leaned out as far as I dared and saw Mr. Singh just above the waves. Genevieve's hand went to her mouth and I noticed slack in the line. Mr. Singh looked deep in concentration. He was levitating just above the white tips of the water.

“How is he doing that?” I asked.

Hunter smiled. “Indian magic, he is a powerful and mysterious warrior.”

Genevieve nodded. “When my father and I were in India we heard tales about men who could twist into amazing shapes, levitate, and even disappear.”

Hunter grabbed the rope and tossed part to me. “Help me pull him up.”

Hunter and I drew the rope hand-over-hand until Mr. Singh grabbed hold of the cargo door and pulled himself in.

Mr. Singh dripped water on the metal grating and his long hair clung to his face. He smiled at the three of us and said, “Thank you. I thought all the blood in my body was going to start coming out my ears.” He turned to me and extended his hand. “I witnessed your actions on the Storm Vulture, very brave.”

“Brave,” Genevieve said. “Foolish is more like it! You could have been killed.”

“
I
could have been killed?
You
were the one in a swordfight with a pirate.”

Genevieve scoffed and put her hands on her hips. “I've trained with the blade, you … you could have slipped and fallen into the sea.”

Hunter chuckled. “Both of you are too young to care about the danger, but that's probably why you survived. It's good to have you back on board, Mr. Singh.”

“It is good to be back. Luckily, my god did not want me this day.”

Hunter closed the cargo door as the Sparrowhawk pulled away from the listing Storm Vulture. The four of us headed for the bridge.

As we entered, Captain Baldarich hugged Mr. Singh like a bear. “That sky-witch couldn't drown you!” Then he turned and grabbed me. “You damn fool, that's the bravest
and dumbest move I've ever seen. Wish I'd thought of it.” He tried to calm down and made a grand gesture of bowing deeply to Genevieve. “Wonderful skill milady, I salute you. And Zerelda's damn good, too.”

Genevieve curtsied and I sighed, relieved to have Zerelda's Sky Pirates off the Sparrowhawk.

Baldarich spun on his heel and said to Coyote, “Good you're mostly unhurt. Head for that bank of clouds to the North. We'll use them to cover our escape.”

Coyote pulled back on the wheel, though he winced in pain. “We're leaving captain.”

I walked up to the copper tubes. “She got away, I couldn't stop her. She said that she'd remember this, that she'd remember me.”

“That's not the last we'll see of her,” Baldarich winked. “But it'll take her days to fix what you did. You bought us time. Maybe your dad named you right after all.”

I smiled.

My father and the ship we were following had vanished, but I wondered if he was even on it. I had a feeling in my gut he wasn't. The baron's voice crept into the back of my mind—they needed my father in Malta to translate. Just thinking the word reassured me. Malta was where I would find him.

Genevieve put her hand on my shoulder, “I'm sorry we didn't recue your father.”

“It's okay; we'll find him in Malta. I know we will.”

Genevieve and I joined in to help as the crew worked feverously to finish the repairs. We both felt like Sky Raiders now and were grateful everyone on the crew seemed to feel the same.

I held the outer hull plating in place as Ignatius welded, turning my head and squeezing my eyes shut to avoid the intense light. Each flash reminded me of the Storm Vulture's lightning cannon and made me wonder what Col. Hendrix was paying Zerelda for. As the metal liquefied and filled the seam, my mind wandered to the island of Malta.
Where was my father? Was he being tortured?
I couldn't shake the nagging feeling of dread, but I couldn't let myself get obsessed, either. My priority had to be my father. I had to find him, rescue him, and get him back home. And then Genevieve. I had to help her find the antidote to her father's poison, too. I had to help her because….

Ignatius pulled the torch away and lifted the dark-lens goggles to his forehead, “Hey, the plate's slipping.”

“Sorry,” I shook my head and held the plate firm. “My mind wandered.” I looked over at Genevieve who was helping Gears repair the steam pipe.

Ignatius chuckled. “I see why.”

“What? No! She's a noblewoman. I mean….” I stumbled over my words and looked up as she wiped sweat and grime from her face. A smudge of grease crossed her cheek and a slight smile brightened her face when she saw me looking at her. “No,” I blushed and turned back to Ignatius. “I was thinking about my father.”

Ignatius shook his head. “Yeah, my father makes me smile like that, too.”

The gunslinger fired up the welding torch again, lowered his goggles, and returned to sealing the hull.

Gustav came into the engine room carrying a large platter balanced on his shoulder. “Stop working everyone, I have treats for the brave champions of the Sparrowhawk,” he bellowed, trying to be heard over all the activity. He walked straight over to Genevieve. “Ladies first. For your amazing swordfight with the sky-witch.” He displayed the platter before the young noblewoman with an air of gentility I'd not thought possible. “Potato bread smothered in a honey-butter glaze, my specialty.”

Genevieve wiped her hands with a rag and picked one of the rolls. “Thank you, but I only kept her busy.”

“A hero's modesty,” Gustav passed over Gears, who reached with his grimy hand to snatch one, and laid the platter before me. “You're next, young man. You get two for your brazen, foolhardy, and incredibly brave attack on Zerelda's ship.”

I looked to Ignatius who nodded his head. I let the steel plate go and grabbed two rolls. I bit into the first one and moaned in delight. It was so good, so rich and sweet. I closed my eyes as I devoured the first one, but took my time with the second, savoring every flavor on my tongue. They smelled like grandma's house and tasted like ambrosia.