Aether Rising

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Eastern Seaboard, 11 March 1871

Calla fixed Claire’s hair in a becoming style. The day’s trip felt like it had lasted weeks, and there hadn’t been enough time between stops for her to meet with the captain. Not that she had much hope he would help her—her aunt and Cobb’s influence reached all levels.

Finally, now on the last leg between Richmond and Boston, she would talk to him. He had requested she meet him in the officer’s room off the first-class lounge. Of course her aunt would be there—there was no avoiding that.

“You’ll be fine, Miss,” Calla said. As usual, she had worked her magic with Claire’s red-blonde tresses and put them in a style that appeared elegant but was simple enough not to fall easily. Claire wanted to do everything possible to appear the competent, sane doctor she was.

As soon as the airship reached its altitude where the captain could set the course and hand it over to the first mate for a while, an officer appeared, as promised, at the door. Claire smoothed her floral-print skirt and tan jacket—the one nice outfit she had gotten at Fort Daniels after the rest of her clothing had been destroyed by Confederate shelling—and took a deep breath.

This is it. My one chance to escape before my aunt finds some way to keep me confined in Boston with her lies. My only chance to leave so I may search for Chadwick.

With the ache in her chest crushing her breath, Claire followed the young man up the stairs from the first-class sleeper cabins, through the lounge, and to the officer’s room.

A flash of red-gold caught Iris’s eye, and the sight of a young woman with red-gold hair made her sag with relief. Not a butterfly, then, just a lovely strawberry-blonde. A ruby caught a sunbeam and winked on the woman’s finger, and Iris frowned as the spark echoed in her memory.

Iris had picked up one of Chadwick Radcliffe’s pens by mistake while they were in the Ottoman Empire and saw a flash of memory, a young woman who looked very similar to this one. Chadwick had confided in her—in all of them—about his broken engagement while they’d been in Rome. Then, a few months later, she’d seen him toying with a ruby ring one evening after they’d been drinking wine and talking about what they hoped the Eros Element would lead them to. He’d caught her curious gaze and told her it had been his engagement ring for Claire, the tiny stone in the simple gold setting all he’d been able to afford on his medical student salary several years before.

From what Chadwick had said about Claire, Iris could believe that she wouldn’t want anything too fancy and would have been fine with the original simple ruby.

But then, what was she doing aboard an airship, and where was Chadwick?

Iris shook her head. Perhaps it was only a coincidence. The motion of her head rattled another memory loose—that Claire had an evil aunt named Eliza who had been instrumental in keeping Chadwick away from her.

But if Claire was traveling with Eliza…

“Oh, gods,” Iris said and leaned forward. This time Marie kept her from rising.

“What?” Marie asked.

“That woman, Eliza Adams, does she have a niece?”

Marie frowned. “Maybe? I was only a maid in Cobb’s employ, but I think I remember her mentioning a niece who was in treatment in Paris. It stuck out to me since I’m from—oh! That’s Claire. Chad’s Claire.”

Iris nodded. “Yes, that must be her.”

Iris watched Marie’s thoughts take the same track hers had. “Then where’s Chad? Merde.”

“We have to talk to her, find out what happened to Chadwick,” Iris said. “But how?”

Marie spread her hands. “If Eliza has her, it won’t be easy.”

The steward came to take their order and informed them that whatever they wanted was taken care of since they were with the famed Johann Bledsoe. Indeed, when he stood to play the opening chords of a famous Bach Concerto in G, the lounge hushed for a moment, and then there was a crescendo of whispers starting with the English patrons.

Iris ordered high tea for four and decided to take a chance. “I’d like to invite the young woman who just walked through here with the officer to join us.”

“Oh, her?” The steward stood with his pen poised over the pad. “She’s not allowed out of her room, Miss. Her guardian has informed us she’s not right in the head.”

“Then luckily I’m a trained nurse.” Marie straightened her shoulders and assumed a confident air. “And I can tell you that if she is a neurotic, being in the company of others her own age and in a normal social setting can only be good for her.”

Iris watched as Marie engaged her talent of making others believe she was who she pretended to be. The actress’s features softened, and her clothing dulled, like she had pulled a blanket over herself that had changed her into a comfortable, nonthreatening person perfect for watching over a skittish neurotic.

Iris caught it because she’d observed it and knew what to watch for. The steward, on the other hand, nodded, his expression dreamy.

“I will inform the officer who escorted her.” He walked away, and Marie’s appearance snapped back to normal.

“It still amazes me every time you do that,” Iris told her.

Marie bowed slightly. “Fantastique at your service, Madame. Hopefully it worked.”

When Claire arrived at the captain’s dining room, she found Eliza waited for her with two men, one of whom had more decoration on his uniform as well as gray mutton-chop sideburns and a thick mustache. She guessed he was the captain.

A closer look at the other one made her eyes widen slightly. It wasn’t a young male officer with very short hair, but rather a female with her dark hair pulled back below her hat, and in trousers, of all things. Claire couldn’t help but smile, and the young woman grinned back. Claire sensed her satisfaction at surprising others.

They all sat, and the man cleared his throat. Claire returned her gaze to him. His light blue eyes held the power of a hurricane paired with the deceptive peace of the eye—a dangerous combination. She opened her abilities and felt the young woman’s curiosity, Eliza’s irritation, and… Nothing from the captain. The lack of emotion from him made Claire immediately wary but also hopeful. The last man she had met who could block her perceptions had been of a nontraditional sort.

“I’m Captain Andrews,” he said. “And this is my First Officer, Lieutenant Crow. My ensign tells me that you have a suit to press, young lady. I hope you recognize the seriousness of the situation. I don’t have the time to deal with flighty girls.”

Eliza leaned forward. “And that is precisely what I’ve been trying to tell you, Captain. My niece is a hysteric, and she’s predisposed to delusions of grandeur and persecution. This is all a waste of your time, and I suggest—”

“Let the girl speak for herself,” Captain Andrews snapped. He hadn’t taken his eyes from Claire, not even when Eliza had broken in. “Go ahead, Miss McPhee.”

Claire nodded. She knew everything rested on the next few seconds, assuming the captain hadn’t made his decision already.

“My name is Doctor Claire McPhee. I am a neuroticist trained in Europe, and I was sent to Fort Daniels in Tennessee to help soldiers recover from their mental wounds. While I was there, I reconnected with some previous acquaintances and was traveling back to Boston with one of them, Doctor Chadwick Radcliffe, when my aunt bribed the conductor to allow her to take me from the train.”

“And how was your aunt on the same train as you, Doctor McPhee?” the captain asked.

Claire didn’t detect a sneer when he used her professional title, and the crush in her chest loosened slightly. “I don’t know. Perhaps she had gone to Tennessee to see my cousin, who was stationed at Fort Daniels.”

One of the captain’s bushy gray eyebrows raised. “So let me see if I understand this—your former acquaintances and cousin happened to all end up at a quite active and dangerous fort that also happened to be the site of the final battle of this most un-Civil war, and your aunt happened to be on the same train as you traveling back to Boston? Then she intercepted you and forced you to join her on this airship?”

Claire looked to the first officer for support, but the woman studied her with pursed lips and a puzzled expression.

“I know it sounds farfetched,” Claire said, “but if you were to contact the neurology department at the University of Pennsylvania or Major Longchamp at Fort Daniels, you would find my credentials are in order and my story true.”

Eliza studied her nails and looked up with a coy glance. “Ask her about the ring.”

Claire instinctively covered her left hand with her right, but the female officer held out her hand.

“Let me see,” she said.

Claire allowed her to examine the small ruby piece of jewelry.

“It’s lovely.” Lieutenant Crow turned Claire’s hand in the light so the ruby gave off red flashes. “A beautiful stone and simple but elegant setting. Where did you get it?”

“My fiancé gave it to me,” Claire told her. She wouldn’t lie.

“And your fiancé is…?” the Captain asked.

“Doctor Chadwick Radcliffe, the man I was traveling back to Boston with.”

“Why didn’t you mention that originally?”

“Because many people don’t understand our relationship, and I didn’t want you to judge me based on that. He’s half-negro.”

Now both the captain’s eyebrows raised and were joined by several forehead wrinkles.

“You have an astonishing story, Miss McPhee. And where is your fiancé now?”

Claire didn’t miss that he hadn’t used her professional title, and she struggled not to allow her shoulders to slump around her squeezed heart. “I don’t know. They took him away off the train in Terminus.”

“Of course they did. So you have no one to corroborate your story? You do realize we have no way to communicate with the university or Major Longchamp while we’re in the air.”

“Yes, Captain. And no, I don’t have anyone. It’s my word against hers.”

“Give us a moment to discuss,” the captain told her. He and the first officer went to the far corner of the room and whispered with their backs turned to Claire and Eliza, who sat with a satisfied smile on her face. Claire wanted to wipe it off with a slap but knew that wouldn’t help her case for being a sane person. Something blocked her from sensing the emotions of the captain and lieutenant.

The animated whispered conversation ended, and the captain and lieutenant returned to stand in front of Claire, who rose. Eliza struggled to her feet.

“Your story is too fantastic to be entirely true,” Captain Andrews said. “But Lieutenant Crow doesn’t feel you are any danger to the ship, so rather than confining you to your chamber as your aunt has insisted we do, you will be able to stay in the lounge and enjoy the entertainment if you wish. However, you will remain in Miss Adams’s custody.”

Eliza put a hand on Claire’s arm. “Dear niece, this must have been trying for you. Why don’t you go lie down? We’ll have music for you in Boston.”

Claire sent one more pleading glance to Lieutenant Crow, who wouldn’t meet Claire’s eyes.

“No, I shall stay here and enjoy the music.” She curtsied to the captain. “Thank you for your time, Captain Andrews.”

Claire opened the door to find a steward with his hand raised as though to knock. He stepped back, his mouth an O of surprise.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I was just coming to extend an invitation to you from that table over there, the one with the English women. The dark-haired one is a nurse, and she’ll keep an eye on your niece for you, Mrs. Adams.”

“Oh, do go, Claire.” Eliza clapped her hands. “Obviously people can tell you need some extra help.”

Claire was tempted to go back to her room to spare herself further humiliation, but the feeling she got from the table of young people who had invited her was a desire to help, not the rude curiosity she’d expected. Or perhaps they were idealistic do-gooders as she had once been.

“Very well.” With a sigh, Claire went to face this new challenge.

Edward returned to the table, his hair windswept, and his deep blue eyes alight. He looked younger than his years, and Iris caught her breath again at how handsome her husband was.

He frowned when he mentally counted the number of chairs and found there were four.

“Are we expecting someone to join us? Or is Johann going to get away for tea? He seems to be enjoying himself.”

Marie nodded and looked at her husband with an indulgent expression. “He feels the same way about the stage and his violin as you do about airships and aetherics, Edward.”

“And we may have another person joining us.” Iris patted the chair next to hers. “But there’s always room for you.”

Edward sat and related how he’d gotten a tour of the bridge and the engine room as well as a close-up look at the balloon itself, which required him to go outside on a tether. Iris listened with wonder—he would never have done anything remotely dangerous prior to their first journey to Paris and then Rome. Was he getting too brave to the point of recklessness? Or was she overly determined to anticipate the worst?

The young redheaded woman approached them with a wary expression.

“Thank you for your kind invitation,” she said. “I appreciate the reprieve from my aunt, but I can assure you that I am not in need of any nursing care at the moment.”

“Thank you for joining us.” Marie held up the teapot. “Would you like some tea? And by the way, I can assure you I’m not a nurse.”

The young woman stopped twisting the ruby ring around her finger. “What do you mean? The steward said you were. And yes, please, to the tea.” She glanced at the table of tea sandwiches and pastries, then quickly away. Her stomach growled so loudly Iris could hear it.

Iris handed the girl—no, young woman—a plate. “Please, help yourself. They brought more than we can possibly eat.” The cucumber sandwiches she and Marie had already consumed had barely made a dent in the pile on the tiered plate, and she knew Edward was excited to see cream puffs on the top layer—his favorites. It seemed a feast since the Skycatcher had only basic provisions. She hoped that once they arrived in Boston, they could return to eating normal meals, but first they needed to determine whether this woman was, indeed, Chadwick’s Claire. And if so, how they could help her.

Marie introduced herself, Edward, and Iris, and she pointed out Johann as “that handsome blond show-off violinist I happen to be married to.”

“I’m Claire McPhee,” the young woman said. “Originally from Boston.”

Iris and Marie exchanged glances—the name fit.

“Edward, why don’t you bring Johann a couple of the finger sandwiches for him to eat on his next break?” Iris asked.

“Yes, dear.” He made a plate for his friend and left with a good number of the cream puffs.

“We didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Iris told Claire. “I’m afraid we have questions of a rather personal nature for you.”

Claire’s tired expression returned to wary. “I’m not sure I have the kind of answers you need, as I am not myself married.”

“Not that kind of question,” Iris assured her. “But you may have news of a friend of ours, Chadwick Radcliffe.”

Marie assisted the young woman by taking the plate from her trembling hands. Tears spilled from Claire’sblue-gray eyes.

“You’re friends of Chadwick’s?” she asked. “Do you know where he is? Is he all right?”

Iris took Claire’s hands and willed her to be calm. With a couple of hiccupping breaths, Claire’s weeping ceased.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But today has been an ordeal. The last I saw Chadwick, he was being taken away from me by the guards on a train in Terminus. My aunt…” She inhaled with a shudder. “She arranged it, I’m sure of it. I just wish I knew how she found what train we were on.”

“And what of Patrick O’Connell?” Marie asked. “Was he with you?”

Iris wasn’t sure what she hoped Claire would answer. If he was in Terminus, then they were chasing the wrong airship. But if not…

“No,” Claire said. “He went off with a man named Inspector Davidson in Danielsville, Tennessee.”

Marie and Iris exchanged glances. “The telegram said as much,” Iris murmured.

“Then how did he end up with Cobb? And who sent us the telegram about the airship?” Marie shook her head. “None of this makes sense.”

Iris recalled how she’d felt when she found out Cobb had orchestrated all of them meeting in the north of France, that she was a helpless bug caught in a web too big for her to see all the pieces, and a large spider pulled the strings.

A young man in uniform approached. Iris blinked—not a young man, but a woman. She inclined her head in admiration, and the woman smiled.

“I apologize for interrupting y’all,” she said. Her accent was American Southern. “I’m Lieutenant Crow.”

Claire looked down at her cup. “Did my aunt send you over?”

“No. I just wanted to let you know that the captain and I are sympathetic to you, but we had orders not to allow you to leave your aunt’s custody.”

“What?” Claire looked up at her, and her freckled cheeks mottled pink. “Orders from who?”

Crow shrugged and leaned in, her voice lowered. “I can’t say. That’s what the captain told me. And I shouldn’t be saying anything, but I could tell your story was true. Here.” She handed Claire a piece of paper and whispered, “Read it and destroy it.” With that, she turned and left.

Claire unfolded the paper and read it with her red brows drawn together. “Do you know what this means?” she asked and handed the paper to Iris.

“Butterflies may not normally swarm, but when they do, find the chaos.”

“That’s cryptic,” Iris said. “And creepy.” The thought of butterflies made her own stomach flutter—did Crow have something to do with the Clockwork Guild?

“Perfect for you, then,” Marie replied with a wink. “Iris is good at solving puzzles,” she explained to the bewildered-looking Claire. “The more mysterious the better.”

Iris smiled but couldn’t suppress a shudder at the thought of what she’d discovered in a tomb far below the sands of the Ottoman Empire. She wished she’d left that particular puzzle buried even if it had given her an important clue as to the nature of her husband’s beloved aether.

“Are you all right?” Claire asked. “You seem frightened by something.”

“I’m fine.” Iris took a sip of tea to bring herself back to the present. “I just remembered how careful we need to be when dealing with the strangeness around us. Let me ponder this message, and I’ll let you know if I figure it out.”

Claire nodded. “There definitely is something strange about all of this.” She held out her cup, and Marie poured more tea. “And it started even before I left Fort Daniels.” Claire sat up straight as if bracing herself for something.

Before she could explain further, her aunt blustered over. Iris wondered how Claire had known since Eliza came from behind her.

“Claire, darling, I know you’re enjoying the company of your new friends, but you must go and rest.”

Iris resisted the urge to tell Eliza to go away. Had the woman sensed they were talking about important things? But then she looked past the meddling woman and saw Lieutenant Crow standing by the window, ostensibly enjoying the music, but she nodded once when she caught Iris’s gaze.

“Perhaps you should,” Iris suggested as gently as she could.

Claire’s eyes widened, but she acquiesced. “Perhaps you’re right.” She stood. “Thank you for allowing me to join you. I hope we’ll encounter each other in Boston.”

“I’ll count on it,” Iris said.

Marie kept her head bowed, but after Claire walked away, Eliza paused and studied Marie.

“You look familiar, Miss…?”

Marie shrugged but didn’t look up. Her face looked more angular and tired. “You don’t, lady,” she said in a Cockney accent. “Now why don’t you waddle off and leave us be?”

Iris choked on her tea, and Eliza walked off with a “Well, I never! Young people these days have no manners.”

Marie grinned over the rim of her teacup. “How do you like them apples?”

Iris coughed the rest of the liquid out of her windpipe. “You could’ve waited for me to swallow.”

“Sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind. I’d always wanted to say that to the old biddy when I worked for Cobb.”

Iris looked at the message Claire had left behind, and a shiver crossed her shoulders. “I don’t know what Lieutenant Crow is up to, but I hope she doesn’t endanger everyone in her attempt to help us.”