Dragon Airways Page 4

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  Riette had planned for this. Talk of trouble had been dribbling in for months, mostly centering on those who were special or different. Such people were simply disappearing. She'd had to plan for every eventuality and do everything for Emmet until there was nothing left for her. It had been the nature of her life for some time, but she remained determined to keep her brother safe. It was the last thing her mother had asked of her, and she could not let her down. The very idea left her awash in guilt, and the current circumstances didn't help. Shadows moved and shifted. Even on a normal night, it was dangerous to walk the dark side streets and mist-filled alleys of Sparrowport. Here strangers poured in with every ship, balloon, and now airplanes. It was as if time had accelerated and every day brought new machines and inventions—perhaps too much change too fast.

  While Riette had planned for this, she was far from truly prepared. A few supplies and a meager stash of coin were all she'd been able to set aside in the event someone came looking for them. Now she wished she'd done a great deal more. Emmet had always been different, and it was a matter of time until the Zjhon came looking for him.

  Across the land, news spread of pariahs and outcasts disappearing. No one had done a thing to protect these people or even to investigate what had befallen those who disappeared. Some families had been relieved, a burden removed from their lives, and this made Riette angry, partly because she detested the idea and partly because she longed for that same relief. The last part made her feel dirty and weak. Her mother would not have approved. Squeezing Emmet's hand, she pulled him along through the night, using her knowledge of the streets to get them closer to the port proper and the landing strips without attracting notice. The swishing of her skirts was enough for someone to follow them in the darkness, and Emmet's occasional outbursts made it impossible for them to hide in the shadows as so many did. She could feel their eyes upon her and Emmet, peering through the mists and measuring them. Many had gone into those mists, never to be seen again. Riette quickened her pace in spite of her sturdy leather boots making her footsteps echo in the relative silence.

  A shift in the wind brought the pungent tang of the shoreline and the faint rumble of breakers. The mists parted, revealing an old dock rat watching them. Wearing things her mother would not have used for rags, the man was more desperate than most, which made him absolutely terrifying. Like an alley cat stalking port mice, he watched. Riette quickened her step even more and squeezed Emmet's hand tighter. It was a mistake. He'd been silent until that moment but then let out a squeak and pulled his hand away.

  Stopping, he pointed to the dock rat. "He's dirty."

  Even with a heavy pack already over one shoulder and a few things she just couldn't bear to leave behind clutched to her chest, Riette bent and scooped Emmet from the cobbled stones. Shuffling sounds from behind told Riette all she needed to know and she fled. Running along shiny, mist-slicked cobblestone was inadvisable under the best circumstances, but Riette knew what fate would befall her and her brother if they dawdled.

  An angry shout cut the stillness. Boots rang against stone—too many boots from multiple directions. Dark shadows danced and moved even as first light threatened to clear the mists altogether. Though it hampered their movements, Riette would have much preferred to remain hidden within the fog. It wouldn't take long, though, she knew. Soon Sparrowport would come to life, sending the dock rats scurrying into the remaining shadows, disappearing along with the night. Her home—their home—would wake. In spite of desperate effort, she could move only so far so fast. The noises from behind ceased along with the shouts. Merchants opened their shops, greeting those early to market, and she considered just going back home or taking the alley. This was no time for polite conversation.

  Her breathing rapid and her back sore, Riette lowered Emmet back to the roadway. He remained utterly silent, for which she was grateful. There were moments it seemed as if he knew exactly what was going on around him and understood the dangers they faced. Other times he was unable to cope with the world. That was when she did her best to understand. The times when Emmet's condition conspired against them both were more difficult to accept. His outbursts had cost them dearly just in the feelings he'd hurt among the people of Sparrowport. Many local families had been there since the area was first settled. Feelings, once hurt, were all but impossible to soothe. Riette had done her best. What separated Sparrowport from other small towns was the constant influx of new people. By air and sea, people converged on what had begun as a simple fishing village but was now among the most powerful economies in the Midlands.

  Riette resigned herself to walking the streets of Sparrowport and risking seeing those who would want to talk with her and say the usual things about poor Emmet. She knew some of what they said behind her back. Never were such vile words said to her face, but it was in their eyes. Mostly, though, she did not want to see Brick. The time had come for Riette and Emmet to leave Sparrowport, and she could not have him making a fuss over it.

  The light brought warmth, and the fog cleared, with the exception of a blanket that clung to the ground, threatening to turn an ankle with every step. Walking with exaggerated care and casualness when Heiress Davenport passed, Riette simply nodded to the woman, who averted her gaze and gave a furtive nod. The cold emanating from the woman was palpable and made Riette shiver.

  Then there he was, already well into his workday. Brick stopped when he saw her. Putting down the hand bellows he'd been using, he approached, looking much like an anvil. Knowing Brick was among the few reasons people left her and Emmet alone increased her guilt. Her role in life seemed to be letting people down. That thought would have brought tears to her eyes, but she held them back.

  "Hi, Brick," Emmet said.

  "Hi, Emmet," Brick said "It's good to see you again . . . and your sister twice in one day." The muscle-bound man was aptly named, but beneath his furrowed brow was a fully functional brain, and in his chest, a huge heart. He said nothing while looking over just how much she carried. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "We're going to see the widow Bernard," Riette responded. "She needs linens stitched and hemmed and new curtains."

  Brick nodded and peered at the items she still clutched to her chest. The awl kit and thimble collection he'd made her could be explained away by the stitching work, but he gave her belongings more than a cursory inspection. "You're not coming back this time."

  That was Brick. He spoke his truth. Riette envied him. "Someday," she said, the tears no longer obeying her.

  "I'm coming with you."

  "No," Riette responded, placing her hand on his chest. It was a mistake. The attraction had always been present between them, but physical contact magnified it. He gazed into her eyes, and she wanted to stay, to believe he could protect her. She had believed once, before her father had gone off to save them and never returned. No. Brick could no more save them all than her father could. And she did not want to be the one responsible for getting him killed. He was a good man, even if he'd only just become one and he was perhaps a bit clumsy at it. It was part of what she loved about him. That thought was heartbreaking, and she considered running away rather than face him.

  "She loves you," Emmet said.

  Riette choked, her eyes bulging, and she glared at Emmet before looking back to Brick, who wore an expression of shock and wonder.

  "I'm coming with you," he said. "Wait right here." Standing in the doorway, he looked over his shoulder and wagged his finger. "Wait right here." Again, he gave her a knowing look.

  She waited for five breaths after he'd disappeared into the smithy before picking up Emmet and running. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Past the bakery and butcher shop, she kept her eyes straight ahead, not giving anyone the chance to stop her.

  "He loves you," Emmet whispered in her ear.

  She gripped him tighter as she cried and ran. Emmet held on to his cap and said nothing else, fascinated by the sights and sounds as the airfields d
rew near. The strips themselves weren't actually visible yet, but hulking shapes filled the air above them.

  Some balloons were still strewn across the meadows, but others were well into the inflation process. She'd already thought this over, and balloons would be her final resort. Diesel engines roared, promising the fastest travel by far, though a bit more restrictive with regard to destinations.

  A dirigible was the second best choice with regard to speed but would be much more difficult to trace due to the variety of possible destinations. Most holds had airship docks, while few had runways. Airships were farther down the airfields. While balloons and dirigibles did not need airstrips to land, airstrips proved excellent places to interchange passengers. The three competing industries had come together at last to provide the ability to travel almost anywhere in comfort and relative safety. Aircraft hawkers were known to say air travel was four times safer than travel by roadway. Riette wasn't certain how true that statement was, but the journey there lent it credence.

  Brick would eventually follow her, and she hoped to catch the next departing flight, no matter where it was going.

  "Fly Midlands Airways, where we treat our passengers like family," said a bright-eyed female hawker. Her manner was polished and practiced to the point of being unauthentic, but Riette didn't care. Approaching the woman, she asked, "What's the next flight out?"

  "What's your destination?" the woman asked, her expression a mask of servitude.

  "Away from here," Riette said with an edge to her voice. "What's the next flight out?"

  "Forest's Edge," the hawker said, the hint of a smirk reaching her practiced expression.

  "How soon does it leave?" Riette asked immediately, knowing her desperation showed. No one in their right mind went to Forest's Edge unless headed to war or part of the logging crews.

  "Won't be too much longer now. We just need to finish refueling."

  "How much?"

  "Two silvers each," the hawker said with a completely flat expression in spite of the outrageous cost. While it was among the longer flights, the airways seemed to take advantage of those with few other options. Riette reconsidered her first choice. Airship travel was considerably less expensive than airplane. She and Emmet could eat for a winter on the coin they'd save.

  Brick was coming. Whoever had been knocking on her door was coming. Those thoughts drove her to desperate action. "I'll take it."

  "Thank you for flying Midlands Airways," the woman said, wearing a manufactured smile. "Please enjoy your wait on the benches provided."

  Waiting was the last thing in the world Riette would enjoy. She'd hoped to take off before Brick arrived. Doing her best to appear calm, Riette sat and watched another plane approach. In the distance, other hawkers extolled the virtues of their enterprise. Young men, presumably headed to war, occupied the benches opposite her. Riette avoided their gazes. They might not see another girl again for some time, and their stares lingered.

  Emmet sensed it as well. "Scared," he said, pointing at the young men. Riette could have thought of no more effective way to discourage their inevitable advances, and for once she was grateful for Emmet's words. It didn't last.

  Growing rapidly from a distant buzz to a howling roar, another diesel prop approached the nearest landing strip. Clouds of dust rolled away from the six props twice the height a grown man. Black smoke belched from the engines, which bucked and popped before finally falling silent. Riette had second thoughts. Planes were such a brute-force method of flight compared to balloons and dirigibles.

  Soon, though, a line of passengers emerged from the aircraft. Most smiled as they approached; few did when they departed. Perhaps it was all the excitement or fear of getting on the airplane, Riette wasn't certain, but the results were the same.

  The first man to pass them was a jolly-looking fellow.

  "Fat." Emmet said.

  The man turned and mumbled something, looking hurt.

  "Come back and fly Midlands Air again," the hawker said to each person as they disembarked.

  "Old," Emmet declared of the next woman. Riette nudged him with her elbow. "Big ears," he said to a blushing young man. Riette pinched him. "Scary," he said to a man with wild eyes, and on this Riette had to agree. The man never took his eyes off them after that. He remained near the benches. That he might board the same flight was a frightening thought. Riette counted the minutes, becoming agitated while the flight crew spent more time working on the plane that just landed than the one she'd thought she would depart on. Now she wasn't so sure. Would this plane need to be refueled too? How long would that take? She was considering asking the hawker until Emmet said, "Mean."

  A stern-looking woman, gray-black hair pulled back into a severe knot, glared at Emmet. When her cold gaze shifted to Riette, no kindness existed there, only disdain. It stung.

  "Perhaps you would like to visit some of the shops while your plane is prepared for departure," the hawker said, her expression openly unfriendly. Two stout men now stood behind her. She and Emmet were no longer welcome to wait there. It was clear. The stern-faced woman looked as if she would say something to Emmet, but her eyes passed over the two guards, and she moved away. Twice she looked over her shoulder.

  "How long until takeoff?" Riette asked.

  "Oh, it shouldn't be much longer now. We just need to get the plane fueled up. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to take a walk. Somewhere else." The veneer of her persona had begun to crack.

  "Come on," Riette said.

  Emmet jumped up, looking happier than he had since reaching the airfield.

  Having no desire to walk back toward town, Riette tried to disappear into the crowds maneuvering to and from the airships. Shouts in the far distance gave her a chill. Something had happened, and now someone was desperately searching. They had already come looking for her and Emmet, and she had no idea why, save that she'd always known they would eventually come. Still, it was a shock to find them banging on her door before first light. Having to enact her evacuation plan, she'd felt exonerated for having such a plan in place and at the same time like a complete failure since they would be so easily found. She should have done more. It had never seemed as urgent as their everyday lives. At times it had felt like feeding her own paranoia, but she'd been right all along, and now they would both pay for her halfhearted measures. No curtains awaited her nimble fingers, she had no way to earn more coin, and her survival skills were minimal.

  Soon the sights grabbed her attention and were a welcome diversion. A group of workers used their combined weight and a series of pulleys to load cargo onto an airship. Where airplanes were sleek and smooth, dirigibles offered classic beauty reminiscent of seafaring ships. Again, Riette reconsidered her plan. It would be so much nicer to board an airship than to fly, no matter how quickly, to Forest's Edge. She'd already paid for passage on Midlands Air but contemplated her options.

  "We'll be boarding for Arden, Jenna Valley, and Riverton in a just a few moments," an older man said. Dressed in a well-pressed black suit with a burgundy vest, lapels, and top hat to match, he grinned from within a neatly trimmed beard. "How can we welcome you today?"

  "How much to Riverton?" Riette asked.

  "Three coppers," the man said. "Since you're a slight lass. The young fellow rides for free."

  "Thank you," she said. The man appeared disappointed she didn't pay right then, but Riette had learned her lesson.

  Shouts drew closer. Back in town, three men in long black coats walked toward the airfield. Every step brought them closer. There was nowhere to hide. They were looking for Emmet and anyone else who was different. She couldn't let them find him. Desperate thoughts came to mind, but she drew steady, even breaths as her mother had taught her. That was when she saw Brick. He approached from the west and hadn't seen her yet, but he had seen the Zjhon, who were now close enough to make out rugged black uniforms and solid military boots. These were the Al'Zjhon of which she'd been warned. Her deepest fears had come true and
were about to get worse.

  Brick was no fool. He knew who had driven Riette to flee. He was a brave and noble man. Marching toward the armed men like a raging volcanic flow, he stopped before them, and his words rose above the din, albeit not clearly enough to be understood. The intent was clear, as was the swift response. No matter how powerful the smith's son might be, he fell after a single blow to the head.

  Riette wanted to scream, wanted to run to him and protect him. Always he'd seemed like the strongest person in the whole world, and she'd had him to protect her. She should have let him come. She should have waited for him. Guilt pummeled her and her chin quivered. Emmet grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Since she would have chosen the same direction to flee, she allowed her brother to lead.

  "Fly Dragon Airways," a boy a couple of years older than Emmet said. "We can take you anywhere you want to go. No airstrips required."

  Only then did Riette see the dragon resting not far away. It was like someone had taken an old horse buggy and strapped it to the back of a rapidly aging reptile. Still, Riette had never seen a real dragon up close before. They had been a rare sight in Sparrowport before the war but even more so during. Towering above the hawker stood a man in a long black coat and top hat. If you didn't look too closely, he wasn't much different from anyone else. His height and alabaster skin marked him as unusual in these parts, but other details nagged at Riette's senses. A seam on the jacket was poorly sewn, and the material was worn clean through in places. The hat, while well made, looked to have lost several battles in its lifetime. He leaned on a cane, the carved snake head in his palm missing one fang. Even while ministering to the dragon, this man was aware of his surroundings. Riette found herself being regarded from beneath a pair of bushy white eyebrows on a face crisscrossed with lines like a dry lakebed.

  A sudden wind tore at her belongings, and Riette lost her grip on one of the last things her mother had ever given her. The handwritten note raced along the airfield, driven by unpredictable gusts. "Wait right here," Riette said, but before she ran after the note, she repeated, "Wait . . . right . . . here."

  Emmet nodded and turned back to watch the dragon.

  "Fly Dragon Airways! Because who don't want to fly on a dragon?"

  "Does he breathe fire?" Riette heard Emmet ask even as she ran. After a few more darting steps, she reclaimed her mother's note. The Al'Zjhon drew ever closer, and neither the plane nor the airship appeared ready to take off. It made her sick to realize she'd wasted two silvers on a flight she might never take. As ever, she found herself needing to be responsible for both her and Emmet and coming up short.

  The tall man was now kneeling before Emmet and handing him a marshmallow on a stick. Riette sucked in a deep breath and pumped her legs. Before she could shout in warning, her little brother stood before the aging but nonetheless formidable beast. Only then did Riette see the dragon's entire face, and it left her speechless. Most of what had once been one side of its face was now gone, in its place weathered copper—deep orange in color but marbled with streaks of green. Within a masterfully forged enclosure, intricate in its detailed re-creation of the creature's wasted face, rested a piercing eye that stared back.

  After a deep breath, the dragon regarded Emmet and the marshmallow, rearing up over him. Riette screamed as the dragon struck, snatching the marshmallow from the stick in a single swift motion, leaving the stick and its bearer intact. Emmet never moved an inch.

  "You horrible man!" Riette shouted as she got closer. He regarded her with no more expression than a stone. Not taking the time to tell him what she thought, she dragged Emmet away. The tall man watched them go, and Emmet turned to meet his eyes. He pointed back and said, "Magic."

  At this, the tall man's face finally showed some reaction, which alarmed Riette even more. Dragging Emmet away, she scanned the remaining ships, looking for any ready to take off, yet all appeared to be somewhere in the process of refueling. The first plane she'd thought she would board was now taking on passengers, one of which was almost certainly Al'Zjhon. Two more continued their search. She'd run out of time.

  Others had begun to notice the Zjhon as well. It resulted in a wave of startled exclamations followed by utter silence. All the fighting troops were at the front, and even those on their way were not yet ready for a fight.

  "Fly Dragon Airways because we're leaving right now."

  Riette needed no more urging. What other choice did she have? "How much?"

  While fiddling with straps and bits of harness, the tall man shrugged. The young man shrugged as well. He wore a cap like Emmet's and a frilly shirt that in no way went with his overalls. His shoes were mismatched, and something about him was different, but she couldn't figure out what. "Just put your belongings and the kid in the box, strap him in, and climb aboard. Unless you want to ride in the box with the kid."

  "No one is riding in a box," Riette announced, but she moved toward the dragon. The Al'Zjhon made their way through the airship passengers. The hawker shrugged and loaded her belongings into the box, which did appear to have seating and a small window. The last bits, those most precious to her, she herself placed in the box after making certain it was secure. The inside was of soft red upholstery and could have seated her and Emmet almost comfortably if not for being in a box on the back of a dragon. The thought gave her chills. The dragon turned to regard her and she reconsidered. At least one did not have to worry about being eaten by an airship.

  "My name's Tuck. I'll be your flight attendant," the boy said while securing Riette and Emmet's lap and shoulder straps. Not waiting for him to finish, the dragon stood and turned toward an open landing strip. The carriage bucked and shifted. Tuck wasn't strapped in at all when the dragon started running. After triple-checking the straps and hearing multiple aircraft starting up, Tuck said, "You really should'a put the kid in the box. These straps are made for big people."

  "No one is riding in a box," Riette said, putting her arm around Emmet and taking up some of the slack in his straps.

  Slowly and uncomfortably, the dragon gained speed despite the hitch in its gait. The now constant wheezing didn't sound good either. Riette wished she'd had more time for reconsideration, but life moved at full speed. The airfields ended at sheer cliffs, which was one reason she'd always avoided them. Heights had never been her thing. She was afraid of a steep flight of stairs.

  "Is the dragon gonna die?" Emmet asked.

  Riette elbowed him in the side. Tuck looked back, eyes wide in shock and incredulity, but he said nothing. The tall man either didn't hear or pretended not to notice.