Khronos (Hanover and Singh Book 3) Page 16

  “It doesn’t look like you will be helping me to shoot, Mr. Smith. On the contrary,” Noonan opened a flap in the stock of the rifle and removed a handful of copper-infused lead musket balls, “I think I will be assisting you.”

  Chapter 15

  The Flying Scotsman

  In the skies above Denmark

  June, 1851

  Cairn paced around the bridge of The Flying Scotsman, clawing at the scars creasing his skin with irritating red lines. His eyes, speckled red and puffy, stared at Luise as she sat, tight-lipped, between two German soldiers. The bustling whisper of passengers entering the dining lounge crept through the Captain’s galley, tickling the air with chatter. Cairn stopped in front of Luise.

  “The cranking handle for the machine,” Cairn flexed the fingers of his left hand. “Where is it?”

  “In my satchel,” Luise flicked her eyes at Oberleutnant Blom. She clutched her stomach. “Where I told you it was.” Turning back to Cairn, she focused on a spot in the distance, beyond his right ear.

  “Then you have a secret compartment, or you have hidden it somewhere. Jacques,” Cairn wheeled around to face his nephew. “Did she stop on the way up to the bridge?”

  Jacques cast a quick glance at Luise. The guards pinched the shoulders of her jacket, tightening their grip. “Yes,” Jacques nodded. “She stopped to make some notes.”

  “Notes? What do I care about notes?” Cairn turned back to Luise. “You must have hidden the handle when you wrote your notes.” A pale liquid welled upon the Captain’s eyelashes as he narrowed his eyes, dripping through the tiny hairs as he pressed his face close to Luise’s. “If you have the handle hidden upon your body,” Cairn paused. He flicked his eyes at the two soldiers. “I am sure these men will enjoy searching for it.”

  Luise ignored Cairn. Her fingers turned white as she clasped her hands over her stomach, staring toward the balcony. “The handle,” Luise breathed, “is inside the satchel.”

  “Clearly,” Cairn thrust his arm in Blom’s direction, “it is not.”

  Luise flicked her head toward Cairn. She looked him in the eye. “Your German friend is not looking hard enough. Or perhaps he has found it, and wishes to keep it for himself.”

  “Oh,” Cairn laughed. “Very clever, Miss Hanover.” Taking a step backward, he wagged his finger in the air between them. “You wish to incite distrust and to create tension. Tell me,” he jabbed his finger in front of Luise’s face, “is there not tension enough in this room?”

  “My notes,” Luise whispered.

  “What?”

  She looked up at Cairn. “Jacques mentioned my taking notes. Let me tell you about them.”

  “Why am I interested in these notes?” Cairn pointed at Blom. “When all I need,” he smiled as Blom pulled the handle from deep within the satchel, “is that.”

  “A secret compartment,” Blom grinned. “A canvas flap sewn into the bottom of the satchel.”

  “There,” Cairn strode over to the German. Holding out his hand, he nodded as Blom placed the cranking handle into his palm. “We can begin.”

  “You can,” Luise’s knees shook as she fidgeted her feet up and down. “But let me have my notes.” She stilled her knees with her left hand. “I think, maybe, I can help you.”

  “You didn’t believe so before?” Cairn frowned. “Why the change of heart?” He looked around the bridge. “Was it really that simple? Why, I should have thrown Mr. Singh from the airship earlier.” The Germans laughed together with Cairn.

  “No,” Luise wiped an errant tear from her cheek. “That would not have helped.”

  “Then why will you help now?” Cairn held out his hand for the satchel.

  “Because,” Luise closed her fingers tight around her knees. “Because I am curious,” she looked at the balcony. “I am sorry, Hari,” she mouthed. Turning to Cairn, Luise took a deep breath. “Since London, I have been communicating with,” she paused, “a demon. A powerful one, I presume.”

  “How?” Cairn pulled the strap of the satchel onto his shoulder. He walked to Jacques and handed him the handle for the impediment machine.

  “Messages,” Luise tracked Cairn with her eyes as he walked across the bridge. “In the form of khronoglyphs, different to the ones I have seen before. They feel...”

  “Yes?” Cairn stopped in front of Luise. “Go on, Miss Hanover.”

  “Stronger,” Luise looked up. “A new kind of formula. I think I know where to insert them in the sequence on the cogs of the machine.” She paused. Squeezing her eyes shut, Luise pressed one hand to her forehead, reaching out for her satchel with the other.

  “Blom?” Cairn held the satchel strap in his hand as he looked at the German.

  “Just a notebook and some pencils. There is no weapon in her satchel,” Blom confirmed.

  “Very well,” Cairn slipped the satchel off his shoulder and placed it in Luise’s hand.

  Drawing the satchel into her lap, Luise opened her eyes, tugged the canvas flap open and removed her notebook. Pulling out a pencil, she held it between her finger and thumb, pausing over a fresh page. With a brief nod, she began to draw, filling the first half of the page with a series of three khronoglyphs – a crescent with a hole in the centre, a bent arrow, a wingless bird. Luise let the pencil rest on the page and looked up at Cairn.

  “Miss Hanover?” Cairn hooked the thumb of his hand in his belt. “If you wish to impress me then I suggest you say something.”

  “The demon’s name, I believe, is Khronos.”

  “Khronos,” Cairn removed his hand from his belt and tapped his fingers on his chin. “The father of time. Yes,” he smiled at Luise, “I would imagine he would be a very important demon.”

  “Yes,” Luise rested her hands on the notebook.

  “Powerful. Perhaps the most powerful of them all.” Cairn turned to Blom. “How many demons did you say came out last time, in London?”

  “Two, Captain.”

  “Now,” Cairn grasped his chin. “Why did Khronos not come with them?”

  “The khronoglyphs were not of the correct type, or sequence,” Luise suggested. “I don’t know.”

  “But,” Cairn wagged his finger, “you have a strong suspicion, do you not?”

  “Yes,” Luise flicked her eyes toward the balcony and then back to Cairn. “I have a small diamond cutter in a leather garter around my leg.”

  “Ingenious,” Cairn smiled. “And you will use that to do what, exactly?”

  “To inscribe the new khronoglyphs into the sequence I have on the cogs of my machine,” she pointed at Jacques.

  “How can I know that you will not change the sequence and prevent anything at all from happening?”

  “How do you know I have not already done so? I may only have had the machine for a short while since leaving London, but long enough to make any changes.” Luise splayed her fingers on the pages of her notepad. She waited.

  “You have me at a disadvantage, Miss Hanover,” Cairn rested his hand on the pistol holster.

  “No more than before.”

  “True,” Cairn nodded. “Whyte,” he beckoned. “I trust the passengers are enjoying their late supper?”

  “Aye, Captain,” Whyte took a small step forward. “They have been escorted from their cabins and the crew are catering to their needs. On being let out of their cabins, it seems they have rediscovered their appetite, despite the late,” he looked at his pocket watch, “early hour.”

  “Very good. Make sure it stays that way. I think we will maintain this course while the weather is favourable. See that we are not disturbed.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Whyte turned and left the bridge through the Captain’s galley.

  “Very well, Miss Hanover. My interest is sufficiently piqued. You may make your alterations and we will greet this new, more powerful demon and see what he has to offer.” Cairn flicked her finger at Jacques. “Bring the machine to Miss Hanover and give her any assistance she might need.” He turned back to Luise
. “You have until dinner is finished to make your new inscriptions. After that, when the bell rings, I expect you to be ready.”

  Luise lifted her skirt and plucked the diamond-tipped scalpel from her belt, removing the leather cap as Jacques joined her with the machine. Cairn sat in the armchair and watched as Luise, flipping through her notebook, instructed Jacques to hold the machine while she opened the door and exposed the spine of cogs within. Luise reached into her satchel and removed a thick brass telescopic tube. Positioning the telescope over her right eye, she secured it in place with brass grommets and studs stitched into the leather strap. Tapping the cogs with the tip of her finger, Luise removed the seventh from the top, teasing it out of the spine with her nail. She placed it on top of the page in her notebook, extended the magnifying glasses within the brass telescope and pressed the diamond cutter onto the metal surface. Biting her lip, Luise began to cut.

  ҉

  The wooden deck of the Queen’s Suite of The Regal Giant vibrated with chatter and the clink of champagne glasses. Squeezing through the sea of animated passengers, Hannah led Blaidd between the buffet tables toward the empty recessed bay functioning as a temporary storage space for the bar. Hannah paused at the cushioned half-moon bench hidden beneath straw from the crates and the lids of several different distilleries. Pushing one of the lids to one side, she sat down, tugging at the skirt she had fashioned from her dinner dress.

  Blaidd leaned against the column dividing the bay from the more boisterous one beside it. “A dawn chorus, eh? It is quite a feat to throw such an early soiree. Your Herr Bremen certainly has some sway with the Masters of the boat.” He scanned the crowd. Spotting Khaos talking with Mr. Percy at the opposite end of the suite, Blaidd tapped Hannah on the shoulder and nodded, “There.”

  Hannah stood up and looked in the direction Blaidd indicated. “She looks distracted,” Hannah frowned. “More than that. Look at the way she is standing. Look at the way she is tugging at her hair.” Hannah turned to Blaidd. “Do you see? She looks nervous, ja?”

  “I don’t know,” Blaidd pushed off from the wooden column. “I will find out.”

  “Don’t be too obvious,” Hannah tugged at Blaidd’s elbow. Blaidd narrowed his eyes, pulling his elbow free as he walked toward the bar.

  Lifting a crate onto the bench, Hannah replaced the lid and sat down on top of it, scattering the cushions with the heels of her boots. She watched as Blaidd chatted with the barman, thanked the man for the champagne, and walked around the side of the suite toward Khaos. Blaidd stopped to talk to a small group of passengers, one of several floating around Khaos and Percy and other more distinguished guests.

  “Would you like something to drink, Fräulein von Ense?”

  Hannah started. Flicking her head up, she swallowed at the sight of Aether standing next to her.

  “I startled you,” Aether smiled. “Then you must have a drink.” He beckoned to a waiter circling the suite with a tray of glasses. Aether reached out with both hands as the man approached. He took two glasses from the tray, smiling as the waiter moved on to another group. Aether handed one of the glasses to Hannah, sipping from the other as he watched her over the rim. “You have been sewing, I can see. Your dress was not practical enough, perhaps?”

  “Ja, something like that,” Hannah took the glass from Aether’s hand. “Is everything all right?”

  “What do you mean?” Aether looked around the suite. He paused when he saw Blaidd.

  “Khaos, I mean Romney, looks distracted.” Hannah sipped the champagne. “I would of thought she would be more excited,” Hannah gestured at the guests. “This dawn reception is a celebration of her success at recruiting Roland and Percy into the order, ja?”

  “Amongst other things,” Aether finished his champagne. Tossing the empty glass into a crate lined with straw, he plucked at the hairs of his beard closest to his lips. “Time is running out.”

  “I thought you controlled time?” Hannah turned to look at him. “Ah, Khronos?”

  “Khronos will be trying to get out, but any means possible. As he did when our friend escaped so very long ago.” Aether turned back to the suite. Shuffling on his feet, he let his hands fall to his sides. “He will be more determined. He will reach out through any avenue at his disposal.” Aether looked at Hannah. “You will assist me when I call on you. It will not be long now. Later today, perhaps.”

  “How am I to assist you?” Bubbles of champagne bumped back and forth against the sides in Hannah’s glass.

  “You will see.” Aether tapped his fingers on his legs. “Enjoy your drink, Fräulein von Ense.” Smoothing the lapels of his jacket, Aether walked away from Hannah, bypassing the guests vying for his attention as he made his way directly toward Khaos.

  “Interesting,” Hannah stilled her hand and sipped at her champagne. She looked up as Blaidd returned. “What did you learn?”

  “She’s nervous,” Blaidd watched as Aether approached Khaos. “They both are. Something must be up, eh?”

  “He,” Hannah extended a finger from the hand holding her glass, “suggested that time was running out. It seems they are worried about this Khronos following them and pulling them back into the passage. That is more or less what he said.”

  “That would explain things. This crowd,” Blaidd waved a crooked finger in front of him, gesturing at the passengers as they flitted from one group to the next. “They are excited. The buzz is that something big will happen today, soon. Everyone is to meet in the engine room at lunchtime.” Blaidd caught Hannah’s eye. “Strange, eh?”

  “Ja, a strange place to have lunch,” Hannah finished her champagne. “Aether said I should be ready. That must be what he means.”

  “We will be arriving in Hamburg just after midday,” Blaidd nodded at the barman. “The crew are getting ready.”

  “Then so should we.” Hannah stood up. “Wallendorf will be on the dock.” She smiled. “Help me, and this will all be resolved.”

  “Remember our deal, Miss von Ense,” Blaidd smoothed his hand over Hannah’s shoulder. “We help each other.”

  “Ja,” Hannah stood up. She pulled away from Blaidd’s touch. Slipping her hand inside her jacket pocket, she closed her fingers around the knuckle-duster. “I remember.”

  ҉

  Oksana slowed The Voskhod’s massive iron wheels with firm applications of the break lever and a long blast of excess steam through the locomotive’s whistle. Stepan wiped dirt from his eyes and coughed dust from his lungs as he scrambled out of the coal pit.

  “Breakfast?” Lena pushed an enamel mug of tea into Stepan’s hands.

  “Why are we slowing?” Stepan took the mug.

  “Stopping, not slowing,” Lena rocked back onto her heels and picked up her mug from the metal floor. “There is an obstruction on the track.”

  “What kind of obstruction?” Stepan stood.

  “Soldiers and walkers.”

  “Walkers?”

  “Da, the mammoth kind.” Lena blew on her tea.

  “You seem awfully relaxed, Lena Timofeyevich.”

  “Da,” Lena grinned. Furrowing her brow, she straightened her legs and stood before Stepan. Looking up into Stepan’s face, Lena cocked her head to one side and smiled. “Soldiers and walkers – armoured walkers. Sure, I am relaxed. Now we don’t have to go to Moscow. The help has come to us.”

  Stepan carried his tea past Lena into the cab. Walking to the back of Oksana’s chair, he leaned around her and looked through the triangular window, squinting into the distance as the whistle blew.

  “They are not moving, Kapitan,” Oksana gripped the brake lever. “I have no option but to stop.” Gritting her teeth, Oksana applied the brakes. Stepan reached forward, bracing himself with a hand on the cold metal sill of the window.

  “Do you see them?” Lena entered the cab. “A small army. They can take back the city, free Vlad.” Lena slapped Stepan on the back. “You can find your son.”

  “For a Cossack,” Stepan turned
away from the window, “you are quick to make a judgement.”

  “You sound like my father,” Lena slid onto the chair next to the driver’s seat. She lifted her mug, gesturing with it. “Why else would they be here? We are only forty miles from Arkhangelsk. They are a liberating force.”

  “Perhaps,” Stepan cradled the mug in his hands.

  “Perhaps?” Lena spluttered tea onto her tunic. “Kapitan, the strength of this army is...”

  “Is unknown, like its purpose. Although, I must admit,” Stepan smiled over his mug. “I do feel optimistic.”

  “Da, Kapitan,” Lena reached inside her tunic. Withdrawing the heart-shaped flask, she frowned. “Vlad.” She shook her head, returned the flask to its pocket. “Just when we could use a drink, to celebrate.”

  “Let’s talk to them first,” Stepan drained his tea and stood beside Oksana. Leaning against the cab wall, he watched the ring of soldiers and mammoth walkers drift into focus as Oksana braked the locomotive and The Voskhod slowed to a stop twenty metres from the force in front of them. Stepan leaned forward. “Lena, go to the window.”

  “What is it?” Tossing her mug onto the floor, Lena slid off the chair and walked to the window opposite Stepan.

  “Who is that man? The one riding toward us.”

  “The one in the long coat?”

  “Yes, a Burberry, like the British wear.”

  “British?” Lena reached for the flintlock tucked between the straps of her bandoliers.

  “He doesn’t ride like the British,” Oksana stood up, leaning into Stepan. “The soldiers behind him,” she tapped a wrinkled finger on the glass, scoring the grime with her nail, “they are Russian. Their uniforms are familiar. I have seen them on posters.”