A School for Unusual Girls (36 page)

Captain Grey stood at the window, staring at the gloom, waiting for the sun to breach the horizon.

“Couldn't sleep?” I asked.

He put a brave face on it. “Wanted an early start,” he said, still staring at the eastern sky.

“I wonder if I might borrow an ounce or two of your black powder?”

Without a question, he reached into his kit and handed me his powder horn. I emptied a small measure of it into my handkerchief, knotted it securely, and returned the horn to him.

“I don't want to know what that is for, Miss Fitzwilliam.” He swallowed hard. “I raised him, you know. Since he was a lad.”

I'd guessed as much, but kept silent. There was nothing I could say that would help.

“War will most certainly break out if they murder the king. If it were not for that, I…” He pressed his lips tight and fixed his gaze on the horizon. “I have a sworn duty to uphold today. But all my own hopes ride with you. I must confess, I cannot even think of it without my innards turning to stone.”

I will get him out or die trying.
But I did not say that. Little comfort in those words. Especially coming from me. My failure brought us here.

I stared at the pink beginning to edge up over the rooftops. “I will bring him home to you, sir.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and gulped back whatever was choking him. In barely a whisper, he rasped, “I pray God you are right.”

“Sun's rising. I must go.” He handed me a slender metal flask. “I know him. He won't take the laudanum. Give him this to help take the edge off the pain.”

I took it and tucked it in my pocket beside the gunpowder.

*   *   *

Later that morning the Blue Lion servants were astonished when I entered their kitchen. Although my French leaves much to be desired, I somehow managed to convey to them the size bottle I needed—small enough to fit neatly in my pocket, but large enough to hold a cup of oil.

For a tuppence, which I had obtained from Miss Stranje, I came away with a small wide-necked bottle filled with lamp oil, half of a candle, and the loan of a wax melting pot. The servants winked at one another, pleased at having duped me. Considering these items might save my life, and that of Jane and Sebastian, I would've paid a great deal more.

It took a good part of the morning to cook up my distraction. I stirred wax over the fire and dipped my little cloth bag of gunpowder, coating it over and over, until I was certain it was waterproof. This was no small feat considering I could not have the packet anywhere near the fire lest it explode.

Miss Stranje returned from the pastry shop and proceeded to do some rather creative cooking herself. She made a mixture of cream, honey, and laudanum, and drizzled it over an otherwise innocent-looking slice of black currant spice cake. She wrapped this delectable treat and placed it in a small basket to take to the soldier guarding the lighthouse.

We worked in companionable silence until Sera burst into the room. “It's done.”

Tess came in behind her, grinning and excited. “You should've seen us. Sera was brilliant. She snatched a salted herring from Maya's basket and held the fish up by its tail.
Oh, my gracious! Where did you find such a beautiful herring, mademoiselle
?” She imitated Sera in a squeaky high voice that I doubted Sera would have used. “The cook was livid.
Put zat fish down. Go away! Shoo! Off with you
.”

Tess laughed. “I didn't think Sera had it in her. She kept hold of that smelly fish, and ever so innocently said,
Is this your fish? My apologies, madame. I will put it down immediately
. Of course the cook couldn't look anywhere except at that herring swinging by its tail. Meanwhile, I slipped the instructions and sleeping draught into Maya's pocket without the cook even noticing.”

I couldn't join in their merriment, my heart still thumped slow and heavy from this morning's encounter with the captain. I had no time for mirth. No room for levity. I'd made a solemn vow.
I will bring him home to you, sir
.

Neither did Jane. She sat in the window seat, gazing out at the world as if it was her last day on earth.

“What's wrong, Jane?” Sera went and sat beside her. “You look worried.”

“No. Of course not. I'm fine.”

Even I could see the anxiety she was hiding beneath that too cheery smile. “You needn't go, Jane.” I tried to sound commanding. “I can pick the locks myself.” Given my lack of success last night I wasn't certain, but putting her in danger added to the weight that was already pressing my bones to the very center of the earth.

“Nonsense. This is what we've trained for. I'm the best at locks. And you…” Here she paused and bolstered her shoulders. “You know what you are doing with this flying thing, and…” She waved at my project on the table.

Sera took a closer look at the components. “What
are
you doing?”

I didn't want to explain, but it is hard for me to deny a direct question. “Have you ever heard of Greek fire?”

She shook her head.

“Surely, you've heard of grenadiers?”

“Yes. Elite French troops. Big strong soldiers who bravely tossed bombs by hand.” She left Jane and drifted near, watching me dip the wad of gunpowder.

“Not bombs, exactly.” I said, twisting the top of the bag into a narrow fuse and threading it through the cork. “They called them grenades.”

Miss Stranje buckled the lid on her basket. “You do realize the grenadiers were horribly unsuccessful? Napoleon reassigned the men who survived elsewhere.”

“Yes, but Greek fire is not just a glass jug filled with gunpowder like the grenades the French had. This is fire in a bottle.” I held up the elegant little flask filled with thick oil.

Sera took a deep breath. Her eyes widened.

“In case we need another distraction,” I explained.

The joy drained from Tess's face. “Fire,” she murmured, and stared at the bottle on the table as if in a trance. “Perhaps I should teach you how to throw a knife instead.”

“Do you think you'd have any better luck than Jane did trying to teach me to pick a lock?”

She grimaced.

“Exactly. This is something I
can
do. Apparently, I am quite deadly with fire.”

They stared at me. Grim. All four of them wincing as if I'd just walked over their graves.

And why shouldn't they? After all, it was fire, and I had a rather blackened reputation with the stuff. “I didn't mean
deadly
for us.” I set the bottle on the table and shrugged. “We may not need to use it.”

Miss Stranje exhaled. “Let us hope not.”

 

Twenty-four

FL
Y OR DIE TRYING

At the lighthouse, we stood back and watched as Miss Stranje bribed the guard to let us watch the festivities from the observation platform. He took her shilling and obliged. She presented him with the spice cake as a further token of her gratitude, and suggested the two of them watch the king's ship come in to port together. He eagerly accompanied her to the side of the tower where he could keep an eye on the door and still watch the harbor with her.

I wished Tess was with us, but she had already gone with a small cart and taken up her position in an alleyway across from the stronghold. Sera, Jane, and I climbed to the watchtower gallery deck with our equipment and assembled the wings. From our vantage point, it seemed as if the entire town had gathered at the royal docks south of us. At that great height, the crowd looked like a swarm of dark lumps, hats and bonnets rippling and shifting like a hive of bees. Once we had the kite assembled, every gust of wind threatened to lift it off the balcony. Jane and I slipped into the sling and backed against the tower wall.

“Georgie,” Sera said pensively. “Remember when I cataloged your traits?”

I nodded, wondering what that had to do with our leap from the tower.

“I'm sorry for that.” She laid her hand on my shoulder as if pronouncing a benediction. “Now that I know you better, I see that you are not only smart, but you are brave and loyal. Above all, I see how passionately you care.” She let go and nodded in approval. “In the end, I believe that kind of nobility is rewarded.”

Peace rushed through me. And strength. But before I could respond, Jane spoke up, “A fine sentiment. But let us hope this is not
the end
.”

“That's not what I meant.” Sera looked wounded.

I interceded. “I know what you meant. Thank you.” I inched Jane and the kite toward the parapet. All we needed to do was tip over the railing and we would be off. “Are you ready, Jane?”

“Yes.” She sounded brave, but her feet didn't move.

She was usually the one to do the instructing, but today it fell to me. “Remember, don't try to stand. Feet up. Head down. So the kite will tip at the proper angle to carry us into the courtyard.”

“Yes, I know.” She swallowed, nodding too fast. “I remember the plan.”

Sera glanced anxiously around the corner, checking the harbor. “The king's ship is coming into port. It's time.”

Jane sucked in her breath.

I shuffled us closer. “Hold on. Close your eyes if you must. We're going.”

Jane gripped my shoulders for dear life. I leaned over the bar. A breeze caught the underside of the wings and we tipped over the railing. Our sling wobbled as the wind carried us over the edge.

We sagged into the air. Then we lifted. I cannot describe the unnerving sensation of falling and yet not falling. Jane's feet kicked against mine as she did the natural thing, and scrambled to find ground to stand on, where there was none. The nose of the kite tipped perilously high.

“Feet up!” I yelled, and fought to lift mine. I tugged on the cords to angle the nose of the kite downward. We balanced into a glide. A high-pitched hum rang in my ears. It took me a second to realize it was Jane trying to hold in her screams.

The kite was extremely fast. Our hair whipped back from the speed of it. But for those brief seconds, as we skated through the nothingness of air, time ceased to matter.

Jane stopped humming.

We soared above fear. We flew with the perspective of angels. From our sunlit perch in the heavens, my failures did not seem so heavy.

A sickening tearing sound shredded our peace.

The silk frayed.

The upper right side of our sling tore. As we headed down over the red-tiled roof into the courtyard, it ripped completely lose. Jane slid sideways. I've no idea how she kept from shrieking. Glimpsing her white face, I worried she would faint in terror.

“Hang on,” I urged, and yanked hard on the left cord.

I couldn't rebalance the wings. Jane's foot dragged against the tiles. Surely, we must have alerted the entire household. I pulled with all my might on the cords. The baleen bowed until it almost formed an umbrella as we skittered off the roof. With a deflating whoosh, we sank into the courtyard and landed in a tumble. Upside down.

I took a deep breath, righted myself, and scrambled across the silk to Jane. I heard shouts from the street and feared the guards had seen us. But then, I recognized Tess's voice crying out for the men to help her. “Oh, no! Please,
monsieurs
. Help me!
S'il vous plaît
. My cart. The wheel is stuck.
Voulez-vous me faire une grande faveur?
I must get to the harbor to see the king.”

As beautiful as Tess was, and dressed in the low-cut aristocratic gown Miss Stranje had selected for this very purpose, I had no doubt they would spring to her aid. Jane crawled out from under the broken wing. “Were we seen?”

I shook my head. “Are you all right?” I whispered.

“I'll manage.” Her lips were still white.

We quickly took apart what was left of the wings. Maya peeked out of the service door and scampered to us. We gathered up the braces, silk, and cords, and followed her. Just before we ducked inside, I overheard Tess gushing over the guards' big strong arms, still carrying on as if they had saved her from a dire catastrophe. When it was she who had saved us.

We stuffed the tattered remains of the kite into a cupboard under the stair. Maya held a finger to her lips as we tiptoed up. “Cook and several maids had to stay back from the festivities. I added the laudanum to the soup the servants ate at our noon meal. Most of them fell asleep while they were still sitting at the table. The others…” She shrugged and I hoped we wouldn't run across them.

We snuck silently through the third-floor hall and Maya pointed out the door. She pressed her ear to it and listened. “He's alone.”

Jane went straight to work on the lock. As fast as if we'd used a key, the latch clicked and the door swung open. The room was gloomy and dark. It stunk of stale air and the tarnished-penny tang of blood.

“I won't,” he moaned.

Maya silently closed the door. Jane handed her the rope from our knapsack. I slid back the drapes. Sebastian was on the floor, kneeling on the hearth, manacled and chained to the stone fireplace.

“Won't tell you anything,” he mumbled.

I ran to him and gently lifted his chin. “Shhh. Sebastian. We've come to take you home, my love. But you must be quiet.”

He raised his head at that, and squinted at me through his swollen eyes. “You can't be here,” he rasped. “Oh, of course…” His head drooped and hung limp. “I'm dreaming again.”

I pulled the flask out of my pocket. “Here. Captain Grey sent this for you. Drink.”

He stared at the silver flask. “You're really here?” Then, his eyes widened with panic. “No, Georgie, you've got to get out. If they catch you—”

“I'm going to leave straightaway. So are you. Drink this, it will help.” I tipped it to his lips and he swallowed as if dying of thirst. He drew back suddenly. The whiskey must've burned his throat or perhaps the raw places in his mouth. I glanced around the room hoping to find water, but there was none. “Bear up a little longer. We'll have you out soon.” I brushed back his curls, wishing my fingers could heal the bruises and cuts.