headquarters in Lovecraft.
Conrad’s movements were easy to pick out among the stately granite buildings. He was alone, cornered near Ravenhouse’s back wall.
My stomach flipped from the abrupt change in altitude as the dirigible lowered, and I waved frantically at him. “Grab the ladder!”
Conrad jumped, then did as I’d said and clung tightly as the dirigible rose. The ladders clanked against the metal parts of the hull as they retracted into the hatches of the craft, and I scrambled into the cabin along with Dean.
“You all right?” I asked Conrad, who’d climbed in from the other side. He nodded, patting himself down.
“Mostly. That was a hell of a close call.”
“Where’s Casey?” I asked.
“Dunno,” Conrad panted. “Lost her in the back alleys. She was rabbiting back toward Nephilheim last I saw. Not ghoul food yet.”
He rubbed his arms, shivering. “I tried to stay with her, Aoife.…”
“It couldn’t be helped,” I reassured him. “Nobody expects you to be ghoul lunch.” I patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Conrad.”
“And why not? This is a Proctor ship isn’t it?” he grumbled. “We’re under arrest.”
“I have no idea who picked us up,” I said. “But I doubt they’re Proctors.”
He managed a weak smile, which I returned. Never mind that I had less than no clue who this airship belonged to and why the pilot had rescued us.
I examined our surroundings, hoping to make a guess on that score. We were in a narrow cargo bay at the aft of the dirigible, and there were no hints, just a few boxes tied down in a corner, devoid of any markings.
“Aoife’s right. I don’t think it’s Proctors,” Dean said. “Proctors probably would’ve just left us to get eaten. Less work for them that way.”
“Good point,” Conrad said. He got up and brushed himself off. “Come on. Let’s see what kind of degenerates we’ve hooked up with.”
I went to the hatch that led to the rest of the dirigible to see what I could find out. Best case, we’d been picked up by pirates or smugglers who also hated the Proctors. Worst, we’d been picked up by pirates or smugglers who didn’t hate the Proctors enough to turn down a quick buck they could earn by handing us over.
I tried the hatch, which swung open easily enough. At least we weren’t locked in. I stepped through it before Dean or Conrad could protest. A ladder led up one level to a deck, swaying aether lamps lighting my way as the airship climbed at a steep angle, passing through turbulence in the clouds.
The passenger deck was richly appointed, like the interiors of the private craft wealthy families in Lovecraft once used to fly from their mansions to New Amsterdam or their vacation homes in Maine. Lush velvet covered the corridor walls, and all the fittings were brass. When I peeked above deck I saw rich wood and bookshelves lining the room. Furniture bolted to the floor creaked gently as the craft banked, and I saw a plethora of charts spread out on the wide dining table. I’d never seen anything like it in real life—the only airship I’d been on previously was a repurposed war buggy, stripped to the bare bones. This was the sort of craft I’d always dreamed of flying on when I was just another girl at the Academy. I was sad I couldn’t explore it now, but I did take in all the details to remember later, when I had the time.
“Hello?” I said cautiously, braced for a confrontation.
“Hello!” A blond woman stuck her head in from another compartment and hurried over to me. “We’re so glad you’re all right!”
“We?” I said, backing up in surprise when she reached out her hand. She went with the cabin—immaculately curled hair, a traveling skirt and boots that probably cost more money than I’d been given to live on in an entire year as a ward of the City. Her ivory blouse was pressed, and a blue stone brooch sparkled at the collar.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Aoife,” she said, attempting a friendly smile that looked slightly out of place on her perfect porcelain features. She wasn’t much taller than I was, but there was a sureness to her posture and a set to her delicate face that told me she was used to being listened to and obeyed.
“How do you know who I am?” I started casting around for a weapon. Something not good was definitely happening here.
“Aoife …,” she started, but I snatched an animal leg bone from its display hook and waved it at her.
“You stay away from me!” I didn’t know how the woman knew my name, but her perfect facade didn’t inspire trust. Beautiful things were usually ugly under the surface, in my experience, and I wasn’t about to trust this one.
“Aoife!” Another voice called from above, and I looked up to see a tall, rangy figure with a shock of white at his temples standing on a balcony.
I felt my body go slack, and the bone tumbled from my hand as I stared at the figure, shocked. “Dad?”
My father looked much different from when I’d glimpsed him in the jail cell. There he’d been masked, with deep half-moons under his eyes and his hair wild. Now he wore a natty safari outfit similar in color and style to the blond woman’s clothes, canvas pants held up by leather suspenders, a linen shirt open at the collar and boots shined within an inch of their lives. He looked every bit the wealthy gentleman my mother had always told me he was.
“Yes, it’s me,” he said. He descended the curving brass staircase that led from the bridge. He held up a hand, as if to still a temperamental child. “Calm down.”
“I …” I took a second look around the airship. It really was a marvelous craft, the cabin more like a stately apartment than the interior of an airship. “What’s going on?” I said. It was a lame response, but it was the only one that came to mind.
“I’ll explain it all as soon as we’re clear of the city and those damn Proctor sweeps,” my father answered. “Now I’ve got to get back to the helm.” He gestured to the blond woman. “Val, make sure Aoife is comfortable, and tell her friends they can come up from the hold, will you?”
The woman stooped and picked up the bone I’d liberated, setting it gently back in its display rack. “Of course, Archie.”
I stood awkwardly in the center of the dark night sky–blue carpet, feeling both underdressed and acutely aware of how filthy I was after the two days of hard travel from Windhaven. I didn’t know who the woman was or why she was being instructed to take care of me. I had no idea what was going on, and I didn’t like that. Confusion was my least favorite state.
The woman—Val—gestured me into a leather wing chair, which was bolted to the floor, like everything else. “Would you like some tea?”
“All right,” I said, a bit in shock. The two of them were acting as if rescuing Dean, Conrad and me from a horde of ravening ghouls was the most usual thing in the world. Or at least, not strange enough to interrupt afternoon tea.
I watched quietly as Val went to an aethervox panel in the far wall and pressed one of the intricately worked silver-and-brass buttons. “You two can come up now,” she said sweetly. “Aoife is fine and we’re not going to hurt you.”
She went over to a steam hob built into the bookcases and set a silver teakettle on it. “You’ve had quite a journey,” she said to me. “You must be worn out.”
“I’m sorry,” I answered, shutting my eyes briefly in an attempt to reconcile what had almost happened in Lovecraft with my new opulent surroundings and the gentle hum of the airship’s fans. “Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh, how rude of me!” She fluttered her hands around that brooch. “I’m Valentina Crosley. I’m an associate of your father’s.”
“And this?” I gestured at the airship cabin as Dean and Conrad poked their heads through the hatch. Dean relaxed visibly when he saw that I was in one piece. His hand came out of the pocket where he kept his knife, but he trained a wary eye on Valentina.
“This is your father’s craft, the
“It’s very … nice,” I said cautiously. It was too nice—I clearly didn’t belong here, and neither did Dean. Conrad was the only one who appeared at ease. I wondered if his composure would last when he saw our father. Conrad had always taken it harder that Archie had left us with our mother.
