5

I stumbled amid the rubble of a transport frigate as the stiffness of my joints threw off my balance. Working my hands opened and closed, I wrinkled my nose when the breeze from the sea pushed the odor of burning flesh and rubber across my path. I picked my way between gaping holes in the deck left by the fire, and the bodies of those who did not survive the collision with the galleon, and ran my gaze along the branching blue marks marring the necks of the victims. This was new. It was not what had happened to me, and I chewed my inner cheek, worried that the Trembling Sickness had mutated again.

First, as the poisonous vapors created by the additive used to prolong our dwindling coal supplies, and then as the concentrated affliction festering in the lungs of decaying Tremblers, the disease, already a deadly threat, may just have become more potent than ever. We needed to find answers, and we needed to find them quickly.

The fire had killed many of the Tremblers. Driven mad by the desperate need for heat, they hurled their bodies at anything hot—steamworks, boiling machine pipes, and of course, fire. Lawmen, in their long leather dusters, walked among the prone bodies, hoisting the dead out and over the railing to plummet to the sea. Others had a more gruesome job. Tremblers that had been thrown from the galleon lay keening amid the debris of other ships. Their cries were cut short at the crack of rifle fire. This sent chills pebbling my skin.

Riley moved in the corner of my vision, leaning down over prone passengers and whispering with Kiril, his deputy. I stepped on a weak section of decking and my boot plummeted through to my knee with a clatter. Both men looked over at me, Riley’s gaze snapping to the others wandering the wreckage. He cleared his throat, furtively touching the back of his hand with his glove. I pulled my sleeves down covering the mechanica there, and turned to avoid being seen by others milling around.

Scratches on the planks at my feet, the trailing ruts of desperate victims of the crash, clawing to keep from falling to their deaths, marred the deck. The galleon’s fire had spread on impact, leaving a dozen ships with scorched masts and sails. Wreckage from crates and barrels used to barricade against the approaching collision lay in pieces across most of the harbor slips and other ships. Blood and clumps of hair on the deck of the frigate told of a chaotic, horrific fight to escape the fires and flying Tremblers who rained down on the unsuspecting merchants.

All of it turned my stomach and yet seemed strangely familiar, as if I’d stood on a savaged vessel like this before.

Riley wandered next to me, his voice gravelly with fatigue. “How’re you holding up?” he asked. “I, uh, lost track of you after we got back.”

“Fine.” I nodded to the body of a man lying mangled at our feet. “You have a problem.”

“Little bit of an understatement, isn’t it?” Riley rubbed his face with both palms. “This is a disaster.”

“Have you seen this before? The markings?” I pointed to the dark blue veins protruding from the man’s neck like thick wires.

Riley shook his head. “Only the kind you…your symptoms. Not this.”

“You have to quarantine the survivors,” I said softly. “Until it is clear what you’re dealing with. This man may have been thrown from the galleon or he may be a newly exposed victim who died suddenly. There is no way to be sure. They seemed to turn so quickly this time. In minutes. Am I losing my mind, Riley? Did you see it too?”

“No…I saw it.” Riley rubbed his face with both hands. “I’ll talk to Doctor Bartlet and see if we can empty out one of the inns to house the passengers until she can clear them.”

Kiril called from across the deck. Riley tipped his hat to me and walked over to his deputy. They spoke, Kiril glancing at me over Riley’s shoulder occasionally. There was something distinctly hostile about the way he always seemed to keep his eye on me. I wondered how long my identity would remain hidden or if those in the Order who sought me were the real threat.

A noise from below pulled my thoughts. I squatted and peered down into a hole in the deck. The fading sun merely cast strange angles of light down into the hold, but a shift in the shadows caught my eye. Riley and another man were hoisting a body over the railing, and Kiril had his back to me. I hesitated for a moment, but another soft shuffle spurred me to move.

The stairs leading down into the lower decks creaked with my footsteps as the scorched wood strained under my weight. I slid a palm along the splintered rail, jerking away when the slickness of blood moved beneath my skin. Wiping it on my skirts, I bent, picked up a piece of wood from the railing, and held it at my thigh as I descended.

Shafts of sunlight sliced the darkness from the broken deck above. Dirt and smoke wafted in and out of the streams of light causing the view to flicker and fade. Something moved, a lurch in the shadows paced my heart up. Minuscule shocks triggered a pulse of tension in my long muscles, and the wood cracked in my grasp.

Riley’s voice sounded overhead, and I glanced up momentarily, squinting to see him through the broken deck. Smooth whirring in my head sounded. I blinked, startled when my vision brightened to a vivid violet. It was like looking through the goggles I once made in my father’s lab. Treated with a chemical wash, the hue refracted light in a way that enhanced the dim light.

Disoriented, I reached out with my hand and caught sight of the silver within the device on the back of my hand glowing bright in the darkness. The scrape of wood in the corner focused my riotous thoughts, and I hunched down, descending the remaining steps in silence.

The figure moved. I crept forward, concentrating on the tendrils of need Tremblers emitted as they reached out but found nothing. Flattening myself against the wall, I waited, watching the form as it shuffled amid the debris. I reached down, grabbed a piece of rubble and tossed it in the direction of the silhouette. He moved blindingly fast, and the shing of metal as a sword unsheathed echoed around me. Even in the bowels of a ship, in the dark of night, I knew him.

“Ashton Wells,” I hissed and hurled the stick at him as hard as I could.

He ducked it easily, stepping into the light and emerging like an apparition from my tragic past. Piercing dark eyes trained upon me as his powerful stride closed the distance between us. Betrayal, hurt, and a peculiar relief flooded my muddled mind.

“Missed me, I see,” he murmured as he secured his weapon.

Though he did not wear his chest plate armor, nor have his cloak from his knighthood in the Order, the long, dark hair brushing his chin and the lithe figure was unmistakable. Hand to my head, I strained, managed to disengage the violet lenses, and blinked up at him. A revolver strapped to his chest told me he knew of the warrant for his capture up here.

“I shall aim better in the future.”

A slight smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but something had left a shadow behind his eyes. A burden…perhaps, regret? “Good to see you as well, Charlie.”

His familiar voice sent my pulse racing. Deep and velvety, it brought with it a host of tumultuous memories. I remembered clutching my arms around him as we flew from a rooftop, his strong grip holding me at his side during a heated battle in the night sky, a searing kiss when I was sure we would die in the next moment.

“What are you doing up here, Ashton?”

“Looking for you.”

“Why? What are your plans for me this time?” I took a step backward, unsure of my reaction to him. I had once loved him. Then hated him. Such strong emotions never truly dissipate. They evolve into scars upon your soul. “Who did you bring?”

“I am alone.” He put his hands up. “No one knows that I am here.”

“I am more interested in who knows that I am here.”

“No one knows,” he repeated.

“You did,” I countered.

“I know you.” Gaze sliding over me, never hesitating, never stopping on the devices. His eyes locked with mine and the intensity of his presence took my breath away.

“So you found me. I am not dead.” Needing to get away from his pull on me, I turned and wandered the area. The bodies down here were nothing more than charred remains that turned my stomach and offered no answers to my many questions. Ashton joined my search, but his lingering gaze bore into me as did his silence. I finally faced him. “I find it hard to believe that you just happen to be here when this tragedy occurred. What are you really doing here, Ashton?”

“I had hoped you would be here. But what spurred me to risk your wrath and the price Riley put on my head to come to Outer City was to warn you both of this very possibility, but…” his gaze slid over the remains of the merchants at the bottom of the steps. “I was too late, it seems.”

“You know something of this?” I stepped closer, frustration welling. “Is this your precious Order?”

“No this is…” Ashton shook his head. “What do you know of the Coalition of Khent?”

“From just after The Great Calamity?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Ashton walked to the stairs and peered up at the men moving on the deck overhead. I followed his gaze, heard Riley’s voice, and nodded when Ashton put his finger to his lips. Whispering, he continued, “Well, you know that it originally formed as Europe’s answer to the problems our country created by setting off The Great Calamity.”

“I know what it is. All of Europe banded together to create laws against us.” My father had spoken of their green uniformed guards stalking our halls of power as the new government struggled to rise from the ashes of our near destruction. “What of it?”

“That was its original purpose, but in the years since it has transformed into something more. Something with teeth. Recent events convinced the member countries to imbue the coalition with more power than it has ever had.” Ashton’s voice sounded strange, gravelly with emotion. “They have declared a blockade around North America. Outer City vessels specifically, as these ports are launching points for refugees seeking passage to Europe.”

Dust rained down beneath the footsteps of the deputies moving on the deck above us. I wondered how much time had passed and how long before Riley got curious as to where I was.

“Lilah said as much. The passenger vessels skirt the known stopping points on the sea. The sky is too big for even Europe to police.”

“That was before they moved to ring the blockade around Outer City. It is much smaller, a more defensible position.”

“They are invading our…shores?” I moved closer, watching Ashton’s expression. There was more. “How did you know this would happen?”

“I’ve come to ask Riley to stop the refugees.” Ashton side-stepped my question. Facing me, his earnest look took me back. “It is of dire importance that no more vessels leave with the intent of seeking refuge in Europe.”

“Do you know about the mutation to the Trembling Sickness?”

He shook his head, but his gaze slid from mine.

I stepped to him, my impatience grating on the headache storming behind my eyes. “A straight answer for once, Ashton.”

The buckles on his long overcoat jangled as he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I have seen it, but do not know the direct cause of it. Not yet. But Riley must understand that galleon full of infected passengers was a shot across your bow.”

“A warning…from the Coalition of Khent?”

“Yes, a warning Riley would do well to heed.”

A terrible thought occurred to me. “Are you working for them?”

“No, but I am privy to their inner workings.”

“How?”

He raised a dark brow. “Spy, remember?”

I rolled my eyes. “You have an informant inside, then?”

“Yes. So I am aware of what is happening in a broad sense. Particularly the goings on of the Minister Secretariat.”

“Who is it now?” I asked, wondering inwardly that politics had continued to thrive amid the disasters plaguing our world.

“Baumton, a lesser duke from the old society, seized control of the coalition a year ago, some say through nefarious means, and rules it with a ruthless hand. Today’s tragedy was engineered by his people.” Ashton pulled on his leather vest with both hands, straightening it. “Riley was at the intake camps in Spain. Saw their ever-tightening grip on the refugees. Ask him what he thinks they would do to keep the Trembling Sickness from wiping out Europe as it has nearly done here in the city-states.”

“Are you saying the coalition infected the passengers and then sent the galleon barreling toward Outer City? That this carnage was deliberate?”

“I am saying that you once thought The Order to be a most cruel opponent. But with the coalition under Minister Secretariat Baumton’s rule, there is no telling the horrors in store for those caught trying to run the blockades…” Ashton’s voice trailed off at the sound of boot steps near the stairs. Blindingly fast, he drew the revolver at his chest.

Riley’s voice, barely above a whisper, called down from the deck. “You OK down there?”

I glanced at Ashton and then up at Riley. Both men ruthless and dangerous. They should not be in the same space if I could prevent it.

“I am fine. Is it clear for me to come up? I do not think I can look at another body today without feeling faint.”

A hint of a smirk played across Ashton’s face.

“One minute.” Riley answered and then his footsteps faded, his words muffled as he spoke to his men on deck.

“I have to go,” I whispered, turning to leave.

“Charlie,” Ashton said and the rasp in his voice made me pause. “I—”

“Riley will get suspicious, and I do not think I can weather another one of your kind of escapes.”

“You of all people should not be involved with investigating this. You should be far away from here.”

“There are a lot of things I shouldn’t be, Ashton. None of them has ever stopped me.”

He smiled then, but his eyes were sad. “Trust me, you must leave here, Charlie. If not for your own safety, then for those around you.”

“There is no trusting you anymore, Ashton,” I murmured. “Betrayal leaves a mark that does not fade.”

He regarded me silently, his jaw working.

“Riley believes he can keep you safe, but Viceroy Arecibo is a ruthless man. He will not rest until you are back in his grasp. You are far too valuable now.”

The mention of my captor, the vile sound of his name, made my stomach knot.

“What do you know of my value?”

Ashton said nothing, but held my gaze. I wondered how much he saw of what I had done aboard that galleon.

“Here,” he pulled something from the sheath at his thigh, flipped it mid-air, caught it by the end, and then offered the handle to me. “You should have something better than a stick to defend yourself next time.”

I folded my arms and gazed up at him. “I am not afraid of Arecibo or your Order.”

“Of course not. Blackburn’s Daughter fears no one.” He held out the weapon further. “But I find that steel in my palm makes for an even heartbeat. Do you not?”

A sheath of dark hair fell across his chiseled jaw as he looked down at me. I sighed, taking it as if to simply appease him, but the heaviness came with a measure of comfort I had not realized I missed. It was not a dagger as I supposed, but a large, cylindrical handle. I knew this. Flicking my wrist, I whipped the telescoping sections of metal outward, the baton ratcheting into place with a satisfying clang.

“T-This is mine.” I looked up at him, bewildered. “Isn’t it?”

“It is.” Ashton nodded, his gaze searching mine. “It was designed for you.”

“But…what?”

Riley’s form appeared at the top of the stairs. “Charlotte?”

Ashton melted into the shadows, moving further into the bowels of the vessel.

“Ashton,” I whispered, chasing after him, my mind reeling. Visions of the weapon in my hand clashed to the forefront. The feel of it smashing through bone. The sound as it sliced the air as I leapt toward…what? Ashton’s form dissolved with the darkness, and I stumbled, desperate for answers. “Why can I not remember?” I found him at the aft end of the ship, climbing through a hole in the hull to a small dirigible tethered underneath the frigate. “How do you know about this?”

He looked up at me, his dark gaze alight with the port lamp’s glow. “I know, Charlie, because I taught you how to wield it.”

“What?” Stepping toward him, my heart rammed against my chest. “You know what happened to me? What I cannot remember?”

Sorrow crept across his gaze. “It was the only way.”

“You cannot leave me with all of these questions,” I said reaching for him. “Ashton…”

“Soon, Charlie.” Ashton reached out and took my hand in his, squeezing gently. “I will tell you everything.”

Staring at him with open-mouthed shock, I did nothing as he unhitched his ship and slid away into the glowing firmament below.

My thumb found the collapsing mechanism, and the baton sections slid back into its handle just as Riley’s drawl sounded behind me.

“Are you all right, Charlotte?”

Swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, I forced calm into my voice, “Yes, I…just have had as much death as I can handle, I suppose.”

“We’re going to meet at the inn. Decide what to do next.”

I nodded and followed Riley. Mouth dry with sudden panic, I hoped the dark of the hull hid the shaking of my hands.

The next time I saw Ashton he would not escape without answering to me.