“The door is ajar,” Jack said. “Not open.”
“And I presumed everyone was asleep, not haunting the passageways,” Ash said.
“I was checking on Grave,” Charlotte sniffed. “Like you told me to.”
“Who’s Grave?” Jack frowned.
“Charlotte’s act of charity,” Ash answered. “How is he?”
“Sleeping now,” Charlotte told him. “But he’s scared, so being a bit kinder to him wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’ll find time for kindness when we know he isn’t a threat,” Ash said.
She scowled at her brother and turned to Jack. “Where did the bird come from? I didn’t think Birch had figured out how to make them work.”
He didn’t answer, and she drew a sharp breath.
“It’s not a message from inside, is it? From the Empire?” she asked. “Who sent it?”
Jack swallowed, glancing at Ash.
“I already told you this is a private conversation, Charlotte.” Ash pushed her toward the door. “Now go to bed.”
Despite her protests, Ash unceremoniously shoved her into the passage. When she whirled around to shout at him for his rudeness, he shut the door in her face. Charlotte considered banging on the solid wood until Ash lost patience and opened the door again, but she knew that wouldn’t get her what she wanted. The only thing left for her to do was figure out how she would discover whatever Ash and Jack were scheming. That she should just leave it alone never crossed Charlotte’s mind. Charlotte wasn’t one to leave things alone, and Ashley would just have to accept that.
6.
CHARLOTTE CLOMPED HER way down the spiral staircase until she reached the dock.
“Morning!” Jack offered her a leather-wrapped steel flask.
“Ugh.” She waved him off. “It’s a bit early.”
“It’s tea.” He smiled.
“Oh.” She laughed. “Then yes, please.”
He kept a cautious watch over her while she sipped the hot tea. Charlotte knew he was waiting for her to ask about last night and the homingbird, but she wasn’t going to. If she’d learned anything about her brother and Jack, it was that being obstinate about the issue would get her nowhere. The more she acted as though she didn’t care about the incident, the better her chances at getting what she wanted.
When she handed back his flask with a benign smile, Jack relaxed.
“Who’s piloting today?” Charlotte asked.
“I am!” The shout came from above. Scoff’s lavender hair was in its usual state of disarray. Though the purple hue was something new. Forgoing the last few stairs, he hopped over the iron rail and landed on the dock with the grace of a cat.
Jack frowned at Scoff. “Weren’t you at the wheelhouse all night?”
Scoff bobbed his head. “I was, but I promise I’m perfectly alert. I am currently under the miraculous sway of my Perpetuation tonic. Keeps you going as long as you need.”
He leaned toward Jack, whispering, “Plus, it enhances virility.”
“And turns your hair purple?” Jack asked.
“A harmless side effect that wears off once you’ve stopped dosing yourself.”
“Any other harmless consequences of this tonic?” Jack sidled away from Scoff.
“The smell,” Scoff said.
Jack took another step away.
“I don’t smell anything,” Charlotte said.
“Sniff my hair.” Scoff pointed to his head.
Though Jack drew a finger across his throat, Charlotte took a whiff of Scoff’s purple tresses.
“Oh, that’s lovely.” Charlotte laughed. “It smells of lilac.”
“Lilac being an essential component of Perpetuation tonic,” Scoff pronounced.
“I don’t want to look or smell like a lilac,” Jack said. “No matter the benefits.”
“Charlotte?” Scoff turned hopeful eyes on her when he produced a stoppered glass bottle from inside his long gray coat. “Purple hair would suit you. I would even go so far to say it would highlight those lovely green eyes of yours.”
“Maybe later.” This time Charlotte took a step back. “I’m quite awake. Thank you.”
“It’s too bad Pip isn’t coming,” Scoff mused. “I’m sure she’d try it.”
“You’ve already turned her hair the color of Charlotte’s eyes,” Jack said. “Leave the poor girl be.”
Scoff returned the bottle to his coat pocket. “She’s perfectly happy with her green hair. And she no longer gets headaches.”
“Good for her,” Jack muttered.
The smart rap of a cane on the iron railing drew their attention. Ash paused on the last step of the spiral staircase, looking down at them.
“Are we ready to board?”
“Yes, sir.” Scoff bowed.
“New hair, Scoff?” Ash raised a brow.
Reaching for his coat pocket, Scoff began, “As a matter of fact, perhaps I could interest you—”
“He’s not interested.” Jack pushed Scoff to the end of the dock.
Ash started along the dock, pausing beside his sister.
“I trust you slept well?”
Like Jack, he waited for her to lay into him about tossing her out of his room. Charlotte offered him a serene smile instead, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Shall we away, dear brother?” she asked, taking his arm.
“Whatever you please, sweet sister,” Ash said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know what you’re planning. But it won’t work.”
“Planning?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Me?”
Ash grimaced, but didn’t press her as they approached the gangplank.
The Pisces was half submerged to allow for boarding; only the curve of her back and the arc of her dorsal fin were visible. The rest of the ship’s body was cloaked by dark water, but below the surface, her belly swelled, giving them plenty of room for cargo or passengers. Charlotte knew that Scoff had reached the bridge when a golden luminescence glimmered beneath the lake’s gently rippling surface. She could just make out the shape of the Pisces’s smaller side fins and massive tail. The entire submersible was covered in hammered metal scales that shifted from bright gold to onyx as they opened and closed, channeling water that would help power the vessel.
With only his head and shoulders sticking out of the hatch, Jack called to Ash and Charlotte, “Are you having a family moment? Should I tell Scoff to shut her down?”
Charlotte said to Ash, “I expect you to hit him with your cane once we’re aboard.”
“Who am I to deny the wishes of my only sister?” Ashley winked at her.
Charlotte climbed the steep ramp to the hatch. The folds of her leather skirt beat against her ankles as she moved. The skirt was heavy but the best choice for a scavenging run as it offered better protection against cuts and burns than cloth.
She descended the ladder into the ship’s belly, smiling at Jack as she passed him, and headed to the passenger seats at the rear of the bridge.
“What is that smile about?” Jack asked, watching her go by.
She didn’t answer, but laughed a moment later when she heard the thwack of Ash’s cane and Jack’s shout.
Charlotte ducked her way through the narrow tube connecting the hatch to the bridge. She took her place in the row of seats behind Scoff and buckled herself into the leather harness.
“We all set?” Scoff asked without turning around.
Ash dropped into the seat beside Charlotte and pulled the harness over his shoulders. “In a minute. Jack’s heading to the dorsal cannon.”
“You think we’ll need the cannon?” Charlotte asked.
“Not likely,” Ash told her. “But he insisted. I think he’s sore I hit him with my cane.”
“Poor Jack.” Charlotte grinned at her brother, and
he winked.
Scoff pulled the navigator’s helm down. Brass and leather covered his head and shoulders, and he adjusted the fit so the Pisces’s telescoping eyes matched up with his vision.
Jack’s voice came piping into the bridge. “I’m strapped into the cannon.”
Ash pulled a tube that dangled from the ceiling toward his face. “Thanks, Jack. We’ll be off, then.”
Scoff’s hands began flying over the cranks and gears that formed a half circle around him. With a soft rumble, the Pisces came to life. Bubbles floated up around them.
“Here we go!” Scoff pushed two levers forward, and the Pisces knifed through the water. They dove down, and soon Charlotte’s ears popped. With the crank of a wheel, two bright beams shot out from below the glass sphere at the front of the ship. The lights shone against rock as they descended, leveling out when they reached a gaping black hole in the wall.
The Pisces shot forward, and Charlotte gripped the sides of her chair. As much as she looked forward to any outings, she always hated this part. Fins all aflutter, the submersible raced through the underwater channel, which twisted, suddenly narrowed, opened up, and then narrowed again. Though she’d taken this trip more times than she could count, Charlotte always flinched and gasped along the way, certain that they wouldn’t make a particularly sharp turn or that the ship was too large to fit through a narrow gap.
When Scoff dipped below a cluster of stalactites at the last possible second, Charlotte gave a little shriek.
Jack’s voice crackled in the air. “Holy Hephaestus, Miss Charlotte! I heard you all the way back here. Ash, why don’t you put that cane to good use and knock her out?”
Charlotte released her grip on the chair to snatch the speaking end of the voice horn as its tubing swung from the ceiling.
“Shut up, Jack!”
His tinny laugh came through the tube. “How many times have you done this? You always scream at the same place. But I think you’re getting louder.”
“Do you want me to come back there and knock you out?”
Ash grabbed the tube. “Ease off, you two. We’re coming out of the tunnel.”
Scoff hauled back on a lever, and the vessel pitched up, jetting toward the surface. He leveled the ship off so they were little more than a meter down in the river.
“Smooth sailing from here,” Scoff announced.
Charlotte threw a sour look at her brother and then struggled out of her harness. “I’m going to get Pocky ready.”
“Just don’t shoot Jack.”
“I make no promises,” she muttered.
Ducking beneath metal tubes and air shafts, Charlotte progressed toward the rear of the hull. The weapons cache was housed below the cannon box at the end of the dorsal fin. She opened the metal cabinet and found Pocky waiting for her on the top shelf.
Taking the gun down, she began attaching the hooks on her vest to metal loops on the gun so its weight was evenly distributed across her body. She pulled a key from one of her vest pockets and inserted it into a lock on the gun’s central chamber. When she turned the key, Charlotte was rewarded with a high-pitched hum that reverberated along the length of the weapon and made her skin tingle.
“Hey there, girl.”
“You know that’s a gun, right?” Jack’s head poked down from the cannon box. “Not a sentient being?”
“Don’t make her angry,” Charlotte said, patting the wide double barrels of the gun. “You won’t like her temper.”
Jack climbed down the ladder. “This is why I keep telling Ash to get you a cat or a bird. Guns aren’t proper pets.”
“Says you,” Charlotte told him. “Pocky has never let me down.”
Jack looked admiringly at her weapon. “Polar Oppositional Carbine. One of a kind as far I know. I’ve never gotten to try it out.” He leaned close and whispered, “Will you let me hold it?”
Charlotte stepped back. “It is a she, and no, you can’t.”
“Why not?” Jack sulked. “I won’t hurt it . . . I mean her.”
“You can’t because Pocky is the only gun I’m carrying, whereas you have—” Charlotte examined Jack’s double-layered belts and leather chest straps. “Six?”
He shrugged. “I never know what I’ll be in the mood to use.”
Charlotte groaned, turning away. The Pisces abruptly lurched to a stop, sending Jack sprawling onto the floor and Charlotte on top of him.
“Ouch!” Charlotte rubbed her elbow, which had banged against a metal grating. “Scoff could have given us a little warning. Pocky, are you okay?” She began to inspect the gun for damage.
“Pocky?” Jack grunted from beneath her. “What about me?”
“What about you?”
“You landed on me,” he said. “Don’t you care if I’m hurt?”
“Not particularly.” Charlotte half turned to flash a wicked smile at him.
“Heartless,” he said, but his eyes were laughing.
Despite Jack’s accusation, Charlotte was suddenly too aware of her heart, which felt like it had taken on a stronger charge than the one powering her gun.
Jack seemed to notice the change too. The teasing light in his gaze faded, overtaken by something darker. Turbulent, but intriguing.
Charlotte felt his hand on her shoulder. He pulled her toward him.
“I could just take your gun,” he said quietly.
“You could try,” she whispered, because she couldn’t find her breath. She didn’t want to move away from him, but the strange push and pull of her body was unsettling. And she couldn’t break her gaze from the shifting colors of Jack’s hazel eyes.
He smiled slightly. “Trying would be the fun part.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure what he meant, but she had several ideas of what he might be suggesting, and she was certain that she wanted to know. She was about to suggest that he should try when Ash came barreling down the steps.
He stopped when he saw their tangle of limbs and guns.
“What are you doing?”
Charlotte cried out in indignation as Jack dumped her out of his lap and stood up.
“Scoff didn’t exactly pull off a smooth arrival,” he told Ash. “We took a spill.”
Ash offered Charlotte a hand, helping her up. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she huffed, refusing to look at Jack. “So is Pocky.”
Ash glanced at the gun. “Well, that’s a relief. We’re going to need her.”
Jack was already making his way toward the front of the ship. “I’m going on ahead.”
“Let me know what you find,” Ash called after him.
“Will do!”
Charlotte frowned at her brother. “He’s going without us?”
“He’ll find us later, and Scoff’s on lookout,” Ash said quickly. “He sent out the decoy, so time starts working against us now. Grab a sack, and let’s go.”
She did as Ash asked, but the wheels of her mind were spinning. They never scavenged alone. Not ever. Why let Jack go off by himself now?
Charlotte forced the question away, knowing she couldn’t afford distraction during this run. With a sack slung over her shoulder and Pocky resting against her waist, she followed Ash up and out of the hatch.
Scoff landed the Pisces close enough to the riverbank that Charlotte and Ash could jump into the shallows and wade to shore. Though she took a moment to search the river’s edge, Charlotte didn’t catch sight of Jack.
“The rats should be after the decoy,” Ash said. “Let’s head in.”
The trees that lined the riverbank offered a thin barrier of nature before the Heap made its presence known. The smell of corroding metal made Charlotte’s nose crinkle up as hills of industrial waste rose before them.
Since the Heap was a tinker’s dream, Charlotte had always thought it a shame that Birch
never came along on their scavenging runs. Of course, he sent wish lists with them and specific diagrams for the parts he needed, but he was too valuable to risk.
Ash held up his hand, and Charlotte stopped. They both went very still and listened for the telltale squeak and scrabble of rats.
“Clear,” Ash said, dropping his hand. “Find what you can.”
They ran side by side into the mounds of scrap metal and discarded machinery. Ash had Birch’s list and began to search carefully through the rubble for specific items while Charlotte threw every piece of metal she could find into her sack. They worked quickly and without speaking for a quarter of an hour.
“Ready to drop?” Charlotte called to Ash and pointed to her bulging sack.
“Close enough,” he answered.
They dragged their loot over the rough ground. The small wheels in casters that had been sewn over the surface of one half of the sack eased their burden, but they were still breathing hard by the time they reached the ship.
Several of the Pisces’s back scales flipped up, and a moment later, Scoff appeared standing in a lift. They shoved their full sacks into the elevator, and Scoff handed them two empty sacks in return.
“Ten minutes.” Scoff tapped the watch face set in the leather cuff on his wrist. “No longer.”
Ash nodded. He and Charlotte bolted back to the Heap. This time Ash took less care in his choices, filling his sack at a fevered pace like Charlotte.
The sound of metal sliding down the side of a rubbish heap made them both stand up, searching for the source of the sound. Charlotte swung Pocky up, ready to fire.
“Ash!” Jack’s voice rang out from behind a mound of brass bed frames.
“Here, Jack!” Ash answered.
Jack appeared a moment later, running toward them. When he was at their side, he bent over, putting his hands on his thighs and breathing hard.
“It’s here,” he gasped. “I found it.”
“What’s here?” Charlotte asked.
“Hush.” Ash’s glare startled her. He looked at Jack. “Where?”
“Not too far,” Jack said. “I can do it.”
“Can you do it in five minutes?” Ash asked him. “That’s how long we have before the rats come back.”