Mysore

Chapter 1: While the crew worked on repairing the ship, Helena studied. In less than a day, they did a wonderful job of putting the Legend back together. Gin and Rock worked overtime heating and bending the metal back to its original form, or as close as it could be bent. Holes were patched with spare panels, and even Helena’s favorite safety net was hung under the replaced bowsprit. The fires that consumed the German airship smoldered overnight and by morning had finally died out. Captain Cox sent two crewmen to search for survivors but found none. Helena wasn’t surprised, the hydrogen in the lift bags exploded on impact, no human could have lived through that. Alexei and the Russian ship should be refueling now. If they were lucky, the Legend would be repaired soon, and they could all head east as soon as they returned. The dry winds of the desert depressed Helena. It made her homesick for the green hills that surrounded San Francisco. Helena learned that some Legendary Creatures could… her mother, Colleen, called it walking with the wind. They could near-instantaneously move themselves and others through space. The idea seemed preposterous. She would need to discuss it with Mister Wizard and Rosa at the first opportunity. Her mother described her search for a spell that could take her when and where she needed to go. The quest took her to Napa and many questionable mages around the Bay Area. Perhaps that was how and why she disappeared from the study with no witness. It struck Helena more in the heart. The way Colleen described the spell, it sounded like what she did to travel to the Land of the Immortals. Perhaps by accident, Helena found the secret her mother had searched for. Unfortunately, Colleen’s journal did indicate both her mother and father may not have been completely stable, possibly insane. Her mother feared her father lost control of reality when they discovered the end of the world had been predicted for January 1, 1900. Helena was concerned she might lose her grip on reality if she believed the end was near. She needed to maintain hope or fall into a deep despair. Her mother’s investigations into the Ancients’ arcane spells likely caused her sanity to suffer. However, it became clear to Helena they both believed the world would end in less than two months. How could a person live with that knowledge? Who could Helena share this revelation with? If her parents already escaped into the past, Helena doubted she would ever find them. Searching the world sounded dauntless, searching all of time… She hated to use the word, but insane came to mind. She needed a parent-compass to point her in the correct direction. If her parents traveled to the past and saved the future could Helena even know it before January 1900. Would a sign come to her from prehistory? Time travel made her head ache, worse than magic. The stitches in her scalp still throbbed. The only chance was if they traveled to some remote location and still struggled to build the time machine and gather the power needed to make it work. Helena might be able to join them or try to stop them. Her mother had a constant fear that Helena’s father, Aiden, somehow traveled back in time and caused the whole destruction of the world through his meddling. Again, time travel made her head pound more. Two of the four tears of the Dragon had been located and safely stored with the Fairies above, more through chance than any skill. They had no leads on the remaining two. They would never find them if they couldn’t repair the ship and leave this desolate place. As Doyle liked to remind her, time was short. While Helena took notes in her own journal, her concentration was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She closed her books and stashed her glowing pendant back safely around her neck. “Come in,” she called softly to the door. The Russian countess Ludmila Stroganov entered, shutting the door behind her. “Something is wrong. I need you to come with me.” Cryptic as usual. She had lost the veil and looked radiant, as before. Her night must have been spent repairing the portrait that kept her and her brother Alexei young. She told Helena they were both born in the late 1700s, if she was to believe the woman—that made them over one hundred years old. Helena moved her arm over the work table covered with books. “I’m sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Can you just tell me?” Ludmila’s impatience grew as she spoke. “It would be easier to show you… I have been working for many hours to repair the portrait, but no matter what I do to fix Alexei, new damage appears. He is getting old before my eyes.” Helena stood and moved toward Ludmila. “I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere. Come, show me the problem, and we will decide how to fix it.” Ludmila led the way with Helena on her heels. The young American had never seen how the magic of the painting worked and grew interested in its finer details. The Russian’s room was only a few doors from Helena’s, making the trip a short one. Inside, the picture in question stood on an easel with paints on a pallet next to it. A nearby oil lamp gave light to the scene. The dimly lit tableau looked like a still life painted by one of the masters. “Look at his face.” Ludmila moved closer and pointed to her brother’s likeness. “He looks old… gray and sunburned. Can you keep him alive?” Helena was shocked at the difference between the two siblings. Brother and sister, both over one hundred years old, but the sister appeared in her early twenties, while the brother in his late fifties and growing older before her eyes. “I will do my best. If the sun is causing the damage, it should lesson when it goes down. If it is something else…” Ludmila didn’t need to finish the sentence, Helena knew if he’d somehow been captured or worse, there was no telling how long the damage might continue. Alexei might never die if Ludmila kept repairing the damage to the painting. “I will get Doyle and a few others. We will set out immediately.” Helena marched to the door. She had little time to waste. Gertrude would need to stay behind and watch over Deirdre. Helena’s aunt had not recovered from the shock of touching the shadows that guarded the catacombs under Acre. She feared her aunt might never regain consciousness, the trauma was so great to her body. Remembering the flies gave Helena a shiver. That was one time the price of magic was higher than she expected. Now she needed to focus on finding Alexei. Helena wasn’t sure what might have happened. The Russian airship was to go ahead and refuel in the port of Aqaba. The route should have been clear, with no obstacles to reaching the port… unless the Germans somehow learned what happened. If word got out about the airship battle, they might be in great danger. It would be bad enough to have the Germans trying to kill the Legend, if the Ottomans were now involved, they might never leave their country alive. Too many of the crew was needed for repairs. If not for this excursion, all hands would keep working. That left Helena, Doyle, and Phoebe as the search party. Krushna could have come as well, but she refused to leave her Dragon egg. Helena was surprised she left her stateroom in Acre. She didn’t think that would happen again until they reached Mysore. Neither the steam-cycle nor Bessie were made for off-road trips. The seventy-five miles to Aqaba would take a few hours by airship or might take a day by land. Hopefully, they would not need to journey so far. Unsure of the situation they would encounter and the length of the trip, the back of Bessie was loaded out with water and food. Each person carried a modified long gun, armed with pellets that held concentrated fairy farts. Back in Placerville, Helena had witnessed what the gas could do to a mind. Now Rosa had distilled the vapor down to a liquid and created ampules that fired from a low-powered long gun. The effects had not been fully tested, but the weapons gave the group a nonlethal alternative. Helena still mourned the loss of her mother’s sword. It wasn’t her only connection to Colleen, but as the first gift from Sigmund, the cane represented everything she’d lost. The training in the Land of the Immortals had increased her skill while wielding the twin cutlasses, like Sigmund had taught her. All three rescuers carried more weapons than they should possibly need, but Helena learned people rarely wanted to discuss their differences rationally. It was more likely they would shoot before talking. With hours of daylight remaining, the trio left the Legend and slowly worked their way south. Doyle took the lead on the steam-cycle. More maneuverable, he could search for the best route to take south. The first order of business was to work their way out of the dry river bed the Legend plowed deep into. Helena studied the ribbons of color that decorated the red sandstone walls. She spotted little vegetation, save brush, and even less animal life. This was a desolate place to live in. She was certain that any people that survived here had to be hardy to the extreme. Less than a mile from the Legend, Doyle returned on the cycle, stopping alongside her. “Up ahead is a road. It runs north-south. It looks well used and old.” “We will risk it. Take the cycle and forge ahead. We will follow the road once we reach it.” His hands full of bike controls, he couldn’t salute but nodded his agreement before taking off, the cycle kicking up stones. Helena knew the Russian Kampfhund didn’t need to follow roads, but the vehicles did. If they hadn’t lost the jetpacks in Rhodes, they could have used them, but now the Ottomans in the castle had them. Helena doubted they would return them, no matter how nicely she asked. Two more bends in the canyon and they came to the road. Doyle was right to claim it was old. Observing the intricately inlaid stones, Helena assumed it was a Roman road. Someone had kept it maintained and cleared of sand. Running north-south, the path should take them all the way to Aqaba. She was able to increase the speed. Passing the first half-standing Doric columns confirmed her guess about this being a Roman road. They came to an intersection in the road, and Doyle sat straddling the cycle, waiting. His cycle was on the center stand. His hand shaded his eyes while he scanned the valley that the side road headed off into. Helena slowed to a stop adjacent to him. “Find anything?” Helena asked. Doyle took another drink from the water skin before shaking his head. “Just this road. I didn’t want to take off on the side roads without talking to you.” He motioned to the road they sat on. “This road runs close to the course we set before the Germans attacked, but we have no way of knowing if the Russians followed the original route or shifted course after the attack. In theory, they could have landed in one of these side valleys, and we would never know it.” “We’re not that far from the Legend. If an attack or a crash happened, I think the sound would have filled these canyons. Whatever happened, I think it had to be farther south. If by the time we reach Aqaba, we find nothing, we will return and search some of these side roads. I hate to say this, but there is a chance we will never find the ship if it went down, not until the Legend is aloft and we can search from the air.” “Then I will keep heading south. I will stop again in an hour or so. Or if I find anything, I will come back to get you.” Doyle pulled his goggles down and fired up the boiler. He slung the water sack over the handlebar and moved south when he had a head of steam. Helena needed a break from the bone-jarring ride. The brake set, she walked to the front of Bessie, where their water skin rested slung over the driver’s side headlight. Phoebe asked, “Do you think they went down?” “I don’t understand how else Alexei would have become separated from the ship other than that. We don’t know what forces are searching for our ships. There can’t be that many airships in this area. The Germans have proven themselves capable of shooting first.” Helena handed the water to Phoebe. “What do you think?” The young Chinese woman took a drink. “When Gertrude fell over the side, I knew she was alive, but… I sense nothing about Alexei’s fate. Maybe that is different. I feel a connection with her I don’t feel with the count.” “Either way, he was alive when we left the Legend.” Phoebe handed back the water. “How can you be so sure?” Helena didn’t know if any of the crew knew the nature of Ludmila and Alexei’s existence and their connection to the portrait. She knew it wasn’t her place to reveal their secret. She shrugged. “Ludmila knows Alexei is in trouble. That is good enough for me.” The water back on the front fender, Helena jumped back into the driver’s seat and pushed Bessie farther south. Less than an hour down the road, she spotted Doyle stepping from behind a bush. The bike was pulled off the road and parked behind the low scrub. Doyle was talking before the auto came to a stop. He stepped on the running board. “I think I found something. Pull off the road and up that little ravine.” Doyle pointed off to the right side of the road up a dry wash. “Something is going on over the next rise.” The car parked and hidden, Doyle led the two women up the rise next to the hiding place. He motioned with his hand for the pair to stay low as they got closer to the crest. The final few feet, they belly-crawled up to the edge. Helena glanced over and spotted several horse-drawn wagons and a handful of steam-powered vehicles parked in a desolate valley. All flew a red flag bearing the white star and crescent of the Ottoman Empire. She estimated there had to be at least a hundred men in the late afternoon sun. Phoebe asked, “What are they doing?” Helena lowered her goggles and adjusted them for magnification. Against the mountains, she found what she feared. Two black burned-out hulks of airships lay shattered against the far mountain. “They are searching for survivors… or casualties.” Doyle nodded agreement. Phoebe muttered, “Oh.”