The Kraken King (35 page)
“What did you think I was doing?”
“Spying,” he said, and her mouth dropped open. “Or that you had been forced into carrying the information for someone.”
“What information?”
“I thought it must be about my uncle.”
She couldn’t believe this. No wonder he was laughing. “You thought I was a spy.”
“A bad one.”
A terrible one, if she’d been so easily detected. “Who did you think was forcing me to deliver the letters?”
“Your brother. Or someone threatening your brother’s life.”
She snorted. “If ever I need an absurd plot, I should consult you.”
“No,” he said, and his laughter quieted. “No. It all fit. I just started from the wrong point.”
By imagining that she was someone else entirely. All this time, thinking that she was in danger and racing to the Red City to trade secret information—part bumbling spy, part damsel in distress.
All this time. Thinking she was someone else.
Then who had he fallen in love with?
A dark ache bloomed through her heart, doubt that threatened to rise up and choke her. But she couldn’t let it grow now. Later. After they were safe.
“What point?”
“The marauders. Their attacks on the airships.” A quiet thud sounded, as if in frustration he’d banged his head back against the wall. “By the time I discovered that the rebellion had purchased the flyers, I had you and those letters fixed in my mind as the reason. But I should have gone back to find the reason, instead.”
“What reason?”
“A war machine. The Skybreaker. Ghazan Bator asked me to reveal its location. I refused. So he’ll use my town to persuade me.”
But the marauders hadn’t attacked Krakentown—
Oh.
Of course they hadn’t. They could threaten and destroy airships, but to directly attack Ariq and his town full of soldiers? They wouldn’t have succeeded. They weren’t enough of a threat.
Oh.
Of course they hadn’t. They could threaten and destroy airships, but to directly attack Ariq and his town full of soldiers? They wouldn’t have succeeded. They weren’t enough of a threat.
The Nipponese empress was.
“That’s why they sacrificed so many men to destroy the French airship,” she realized. “None of the others were catching the empress’s attention. But a diplomatic disaster might.”
Ariq’s fingers caught in her hair, tugged her close. “This is why,” he said roughly against her lips. “This is why I wanted you from almost the moment I pulled you from the water. The way you think. You’re like an arrow.”
And sometimes a squirrel, scampering this way and that, wildly collecting nuts. Her awareness shot from the warmth of his mouth to the impossible, mad plan to threaten a town. “But it’s so indirect. How could he—Who is he?”
“Ghazan Bator. A general.”
“How could a rebel general know the empress would respond as he wants her to?”
“She’s predictable. Saito warned me. And the twins thought the same.” But something in his voice said that point bothered him, too. “He’d want to be certain, though. He must have some way to influence her. And look where we are.”
A Nipponese naval airship. Someone must have authorized its use. “And those flyers were of Nipponese design,” she said slowly, “and were sold through the one den lord with enough integrity to keep the names of the buyer and seller secret. They didn’t want you to make the connection. And they probably don’t want the empress to see a connection. The question is: Who is it?”
“We’ll know soon.”
Zenobia nodded. The airship was slowing. She fought a niggle of panic worming through her gut. “Ariq. If this is about the location of some machine, they only needed you. Maybe threatening your town isn’t the only way they’ll persuade you.”
His hands cupped her face. His voice roughened on an urgent promise. “They won’t touch you.”
“I hope that you saying so is enough. Because under your protection, I hadn’t thought I’d be kidnapped again, either.”
A harsh breath expanded his chest. Angry tension locked his frame. She almost felt sorry. Almost. But she would
not
have him tell her not to worry when she clearly should.
not
have him tell her not to worry when she clearly should.
Then the stiffness eased, and he said softly, “They won’t touch you. Trust me.”
Her throat suddenly ached. “I want to.”
“I know.” His lips caught hers, sweetly, briefly. “And you must be my wife.”
The air wheezed from her constricting lungs.
“Wife?”
“So they know what you mean to me.” His body was still, his voice intense. “Will you agree?”
To pretend she was his wife. Giving her more protection.
“Yes.”
The response had barely left her tongue before his mouth angled over her parted lips, hotter this time, more urgent, and she was breathless when he pulled away.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll try not to make you a widow again.”
She couldn’t stop her laugh. “You have to pretend you didn’t hear me say that I wasn’t one. Or anything else I admitted to under the influence of the gas.”
“I don’t pretend.”
Zenobia did. When a clank sounded through vault, followed by the hiss of hydraulic pistons releasing at the door, she pretended that terror hadn’t gripped her heart with icy claws. She clung to Ariq’s hand, and he drew her close to his left side, partially blocking her body with his.
The soft glow of a lantern pierced the dark, making her squint. Two guards entered, carrying the lanterns, and stood to each side of the door. They wore simple uniforms of a short robe in dark gray, loose black trousers, and sandals—much like those worn by the guards at the Red City’s gate and watchtowers along the red wall. Nipponese, then.
The guards spoke in unison—not directly to Ariq and Zenobia, but as if making a declaration to the vault itself. Announcing the man who was entering, she realized as another came through. Though the colors he wore were just as plain as the guards’—a knee-length tan vest over a long white robe—there was no mistaking his rank or authority. He carried himself like the long sword tucked into his brown sash. Steel gray hair had been tied into a tail drawn forward over a shaved pate. His gaze was shrewd, with deep lines at the corners of his eyes. He studied them for a long second before inclining his head and speaking.
Ariq’s fingers had subtly tightened on hers when the man’s name had been announced. Aside from the small movement, however, nothing seemed to disturb the calm that had settled over him when the door had opened.
Zenobia didn’t understand anything the other man said, but Ariq nodded when he finished speaking. The man stepped to the side. Waiting for them to be escorted from the vault, apparently.
“Come,” Ariq said softly.
“Where?”
“With me,” he replied as if there were no other answer, and she thought he smiled.
Teasing her? Did he know the man? Was the situation not as bad as she feared?
And
how
could he be so calm? Even with his size and strength, he was unarmed and dressed in nothing but a loose pair of trousers.
how
could he be so calm? Even with his size and strength, he was unarmed and dressed in nothing but a loose pair of trousers.
But he hadn’t earned his name for nothing. Still clinging to his hand, following just behind him, she lifted her gaze to the tattoo on his back. Tentacles sprouted from a horrific body with giant eyes, art given life by the smooth, strong muscles beneath skin and ink.
The Kraken.
The man who never let go. She had to trust in that.
The Kraken.
The man who never let go. She had to trust in that.
They emerged into a lighted passageway, the guards following them. More guards waited at a ladder ahead.
She dared a glance back at the older man. “Who is he?”
“Admiral Tatsukawa.”
“Not his name.” That meant nothing to her. “
Who
is he?”
Who
is he?”
“Taka’s father.”
Oh, dear God. Her stomach shriveled. The man his mother had married. The admiral who’d exposed her as a spy and beheaded her. But that wasn’t what Ariq had said. He’d said “Taka’s father”—as if reminding himself why he wouldn’t kill the man.
When they stopped at the ladder Ariq glanced at her, and the cold glaze over his eyes briefly warmed. He squeezed her hand. “It will be all right.”
She hoped so. She just didn’t know if she believed it.
***
Zenobia’s face was as pale as death, yet she carried herself as if she didn’t fear anything, her back straight and her steps sure.
Ariq knew what she believed. When she’d realized they needed to persuade him to give up the location of the Skybreaker, her mind had flown swiftly to one conclusion. She expected torture—and skipped directly over the possibility that a man might choose
not
to hurt her.
not
to hurt her.
Believing anything else wouldn’t be easy for her. He suspected she’d lived with that fear for far too long. But she was trying to trust him.
That was enough. For now. It would have been better if Zenobia had learned to trust him before marriage, but she was his now. His bride. He would have time to win his wife’s heart.
Time for a proper ceremony. Time to carry her to his bed. Time to learn everything about her.
But not today.
He climbed the ladder to the upper deck. Ariq hadn’t known how long he’d been out before waking in the darkness with Zenobia beside him. But dawn had already passed, and the sun warmed the boards under his feet. Seabirds cawed around the balloon overhead. Aviators stood on deck, and the rebels who wouldn’t meet his gaze. Cowards. Any soldier who couldn’t look another in the eye didn’t truly believe in what they were fighting for. They were just dogs, either cowed or eager for blood.
And they were preparing to leave. They held Ariq’s tunic and sash, and Zenobia’s glider contraption.
Of course they’d taken that. While waiting for the gas to take effect, they would have heard her speaking of Temür Agha, and of Ariq reading the letters. They’d have searched her room for papers.
Leading Zenobia to the side, he glanced over. An ironship floated below, anchored away from a barren rock island. They’d flown north, then. Countless island chains stood between Australia and the mainland—many of the inhabitable ones ravaged in the war between Nippon and the Golden Empire that had ended a decade before.
His gaze returned to the ship. With broad decks, multiple engines, and deep holds, the vessel was designed to carry the Khagan’s war machines—usually in pieces, and reassembled at the destination. The ironship wasn’t in the Golden Empire’s possession now. It was in the rebellion’s. Ghazan Bator stood on a gangway suspended between two smokestacks, a spyglass aimed up at the airship.
At
Ariq
. As soon as he appeared at the airship’s rail, the general waved them in.
Ariq
. As soon as he appeared at the airship’s rail, the general waved them in.
“Who is that?” Zenobia’s grip hadn’t eased on his, but her voice had strengthened.
“The general who asked me for the location of the machine.”
And if they intended to use the ironship to transport it, they obviously knew nothing about the Skybreaker beyond rumors. Even ten ironships couldn’t have carried the machine.
Zenobia’s gaze moved from the ironship to the airship’s masts as the timbers extended from the hull. The ribbed sails eased open, catching just enough wind to push them closer to the ironship. “Are we being transferred to that ship?”
Not
we
. They wouldn’t allow her to stay with him. If Ariq escaped, he’d take her, and the general and the admiral would lose their advantage over him. So they would keep Zenobia on the ironship or some hidden site, while the airship flew to the location that Ariq gave them. After they verified the Skybreaker was there, they would return Zenobia to Ariq or tell him where she was.
we
. They wouldn’t allow her to stay with him. If Ariq escaped, he’d take her, and the general and the admiral would lose their advantage over him. So they would keep Zenobia on the ironship or some hidden site, while the airship flew to the location that Ariq gave them. After they verified the Skybreaker was there, they would return Zenobia to Ariq or tell him where she was.
Until then, she’d be alone.
Terrible pressure built in his chest. Was there any way to keep her with him? He couldn’t see one. If there were fewer soldiers on the deck, he might have risked killing them all and making an escape. But Zenobia could be hurt in the process.
“You’re not so calm anymore,” she said quietly.
He wasn’t. She held his hand between hers, watching him with the question in her eyes.
Why?
Ariq didn’t want to tell her, to add to her terror. But she’d appreciated when he was blunt—and this couldn’t be hidden for long, anyway. She needed to know.
Why?
Ariq didn’t want to tell her, to add to her terror. But she’d appreciated when he was blunt—and this couldn’t be hidden for long, anyway. She needed to know.
“They’ll separate us.”
Her features became a frozen mask. “Are you sure?”
He was. “It’s the most efficient way to get the machine. They’ll promise to return you to me after I give up the location.”
Her fingers tightened. “Will they
keep
that promise?”
keep
that promise?”
“Yes. Every tactic they’ve used has been of minimal risk.” And it was much safer to return her to Ariq than not.
“So my ransom will be that machine.”
Ariq nodded.
“And you will pay it? You didn’t give it up before. You must have had a reason. Will you give it up now?”
He wouldn’t lie to her. Holding her gaze, he said, “Trust me.”
She stared at him, her breath coming quick and shallow, before looking down at the ironship. Her eyes were unfocused, with tension whitening her lips.
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