Chenda and the Airship Brofman (4 page)

Candice made introductions. “Mrs. Chenda Frost, this is my colleague, Professor Henrietta Hoppingood, instructor of Languages, Literatures and Cultures as well as a researcher into the field of
Esoterica
. She is my most trusted friend.”

Henrietta blinked in realization as to who stood before her. “Oh, Mrs. Frost,” Henrietta said, holding her head sympathetically to one side. “I'm so sorry for your loss. I read all about your husband in the papers.”

Chenda blanched, hating her new fame as The Widow Frost. Candice quickly stepped in saying, “Henrietta, darling, can I have a word with you in the corridor?” She quickly dragged her short friend back through the office door, closing it behind them. Chenda found herself alone amongst the maps and stones.

She tried to focus on the various dusty pictures of Candice displayed around the room. In each photo, the professor squatted over some exotic rock or hole in the ground, clearly pleased by some new discovery. Chenda tried not to listen to the conversation out in the hall, which worked well for a few minutes until Henrietta exclaimed, “Are you DAFT? You'll be killed!” There was some shushing followed by some fast murmuring which turned into a whispered argument. Finally, Candice said loudly and firmly, “
You
owe
me
the favor, and now, I'm cashing it in. Pay up!”

Chenda smiled. It always came down to favors. They were like the secondary currency of the Republic. Everyone seemed to owe a favor to someone else, and it was truly bad form to decline when someone asked for their favor to be repaid. Whatever Candice had asked Henrietta for, she was surely going to get.

The door opened and Candice stepped in. Chenda heard Henrietta's footsteps disappearing down the corridor along with an exasperated voice shouting “As you wish...
Meeep
!”

Candice grinned at Chenda and said, “I believe I've just come up with a plan.”

Chapter 3

CAPTAIN MAXWELL ENDICOTT

Over the next few hours, Chenda and Candice hatched a plan to undertake what rational people would deem an insane journey. The first step involved developing a plausible reason to put themselves east of the Republic's coastline and over the Kohlian Sea, an action generally forbidden by the government.

“Congratulations,” Candice said. “Consider yourself enrolled in Kite's Republic University!”

“I have?” Chenda asked. “How does that help us?”

“Well,” she said, “a geology professor, such as myself, often needs an assistant when she takes a sabbatical, and it's usually a student, such as yourself. You see? Your current area of study is the divergent plate boundaries of the Mid-Sea Ridge.” Candice sat back with a satisfied look on her face.

Chenda blinked at her.

Then, still receiving no explanation, she blinked at Candice again.

“You know! Sea floor spreading?” Candice said, suddenly frowning. “Studying the volcanic regions of the ocean floor will allow us to acquire the necessary papers. Also, with the amount of seafloor out there to cover, no one will question the time we will be gone, and why we need an airship capable of spending several weeks over the Kohlian Sea. Then all we have to do is find a way to slip over to the Tugrulian Empire and into the capitol city Kotal unnoticed, find a hidden mystic, fulfill your destiny and hopefully make it back to the Republic alive. Simple as that.”

Candice isn't one for half measures,
Chenda thought.
When she steps in, it's with both feet.

“How are we going to get from the middle of Kohlian Sea to the eastern shore?” Chenda asked.

“That's where Henrietta is going to help us,” Candice replied. “For a well mannered lady, Henrietta knows some pretty slippery characters and a surprising number of airship captains  - most of them shifty. She's going to connect us with the right airship for our ultimate needs.” Candice looked everywhere in the room except for where Chenda was sitting. “Hmm,” she said scratching her wrist nervously. “This won't be cheap.”

Chenda's face broke into a broad smile. “Don't you read the gossip columns? They say I'm the richest widow in the Republic.” Her smile faded. “Edison's money will cover just about any expense.”

She shifted in her seat, sinking until one elbow rested on Candice's desk. “What I lack is not money.” Chenda straightened in her chair and said, “How can I explain? I grew up in the convent school of St Elgin in Wadpole-on-the-River. When the war started, my father left me in the care of the Sisters there. I was two-years old. I have no memories of life before then, and I can't remember my mother at all. The Sisters took care of me, and then Daddy died.”

Chenda paused a moment, then carried on. “At Edison's estate, an entire staff waited to take care of my needs - even before I knew what they were. To be honest, I've wanted for nothing my entire life. Now, Edison's money is more than enough to keep me in luxury for the rest of my life – ten lifetimes or more. His wealth, however, won't give me a sense of who I am, and what I'm supposed to do with my life. He says my path is out there, and he's told me where to find it. So, the sky is the limit. If you think we need something, we get it.”

“Unlimited funds. Well, thank you, that's one advantage we have.” Candice made a dismissing gesture and said, “Look, I see a thousand new students walk into this University each year. Most of them have no clue what they are going to do with their life. It's really unreasonable to ask a teenager to decide what they want to do with the rest of their lives. Maybe one in a hundred have the vaguest sense of direction for themselves. Just like you, they just need a little time and experience to grow up! Don't be so hard on yourself.”

Chenda looked away as Candice continued, “At least you've got the means to follow your path, even if it is a dangerous one. You're enrolling in the school of hard knocks, really. And, another thing – stop calling it Edison's money. It's yours now. Own it.”

The professor let her words sink in for a moment and then asked, “I've been wondering, and please stop me if I am being rude, but if Edison never left his estate, how did you two meet and marry?”

“Oh, that question is not rude. I was his ward,” Chenda replied.

“Ward? Who would give a recluse a child to look after?” Candice realized that her question was a bit unkind, but Chenda just made a sad smile and explained.

“My father, Commander Alexander Bode, did. Daddy was the Commander of the
Valiant Eagle
.  They served together for years and were very close. When Edison returned from the war, he came to the convent with letters from my father stating his desire for Edison to be my guardian. On the day Edison was discharged from the Kiter Air Service, he claimed me at the orphanage, then retreated with me to his estate. I had just turned 13, and I was totally alone in the world. Edison came along, and I was grateful. He said he would keep me safe, and I believed him. He kept that promise every day.”

Chenda bit her lip, the pain of thinking about her life without Edison weighing heavily on her. “I found him fascinating. He was a stoic, broken man. At first, he remained distant as he healed from his various war wounds, but he carefully arranged tutors, governesses, pets and companions for me. He sent me to town for finishing school, and I learned all the polite mannerisms a young woman of society needed to know – a real blossom of the Republic. As I grew older, he offered a generous allowance and, eventually, a tender ear. I was so lonely sometimes, and he was an anchor of kindness to me.

“When I turned 18, it only seemed reasonable to accept his offer of marriage. I respected him and enjoyed his companionship, and agreed with my tutors and acquaintances that he would, in gentle kindness, care for me for the rest of his life. I never really cared about the extra 23 years he carried. It seemed unimportant then, and I lived happily, without a care in the world. I loved him.”

A tear rolled down her face, “That's why I am so committed to following his instructions.”

Candice saw once again the bright newness of resolve within Chenda. She found it admirable, even if it was misplaced. Finally, Candice stretched and said, “With a father and a husband in the business of commanding airships, I guess you are an old hand at airship travel.”

Chenda shook her head. “Not once. I've never flown before.”

“Well, you
are
in for an experience.”

Candice frowned slightly as she looked over the young woman's beautiful clothes, fashionable shoes and pampered hair. “It will be required of us to travel quickly and light. Remember, you're my assistant and a student geologist, so look the part. That means ditching the finery. Also, you'll need some aeronaut boots and a flight coat.” Candice grabbed a pen and made a detailed list of the things Chenda would need. “I'll take care of getting your various documents, but you'll want to pick up a compass, a pouch-belt, a timepiece, pants, and a variety of small but valuable objects with which we may need to barter. The farther we get from Kite's Republic, the less our paper money will be worth. So bring baubles that are portable and worth a good bit, but nothing dear to you.”

“Ah,” Chenda said. “Expensive trinkets I have, and the rest I can get tomorrow.”

“Good,” Candice replied with a yawn. “It's getting late. Let's see what kind of shady captain Henrietta can find for us, and we will meet back here tomorrow, say about three o'clock?”

When she arrived at the Frost estate, Chenda was greeted at door by her housekeeper Alme.

“Evening, ma’am,” she said, taking Chenda's overcoat. “Will you be needing anything at present, ma’am? Some tea and biscuits perhaps? Draw you a bath?”

“No, Alme, thank you. I won't be needing anything for the rest of the night, just some peace and quiet until morning.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Alme said as she waddled away.

Chenda crossed the foyer and stepped into Edison's study. She reached into the folds of her dress and retrieved the velvet bag holding the Tugrulian Singing Stones. She imagined Edison putting the little gems into the tiny sack and tying the drawstrings. Of course, he bequeathed all his wealth to Chenda, but, at that moment, the little bag seemed like the essence of Edison, the one possession that mattered for her to inherit.

If Edison felt they were safe enough here, I guess I'll trust it, too...
she thought. Gripping the edge of the desk, she squeezed the dark mahogany until she again found the release for the secret panel. Chenda kissed the letter, and placed it along with the stones into his desk.

She climbed the stairs to her room, where she began to gather the things she would need for her journey. She found a small, simple canvas sack in Edison's wardrobe and sat at her dressing table to sort through her jewelry.  She collected her tortoise shell hair combs, a pair of pearl earrings, gold and silver bangles and a cameo broach and dropped them into the bag. Moving to Edison's bureau, she took his pocket watch and fob from the top drawer and slipped it into her bag. She looked through the rest of the drawers, both hers and Edison's, but, aside from a few heavy gold coins, there was little she wished to take with her. She placed her bag of trinkets at the bottom of a small carpet bag and piled some clean clothes, her toothbrush and an embroidered handkerchief on top. She was packed.

She stretched out on the bed she and Edison had shared. She touched his pillow, caressing where his head once rested. She felt her grief rising again.

I've got to get out of here. I can feel that now...

For the eighth night in a row, Chenda cried herself to sleep.

Early the next morning, Chenda awoke with her dreams fresh in her mind. She'd been flying, free in the open air, arms held out low to her side, brushed backward with the speed of her soaring. She wasn't alone. Edison had been there with her. He held her to him, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her back tightly to his chest as they flew in a brilliant sky. Floating below him as they bobbed along on warm, silky air, Chenda felt happiness – her mood lighter than it had been in days. She looked up at Edison's scarred face, wondering where he was leading her, but she couldn't find the words to ask. Chenda also looked down. Clouds touched with strands of amber and rose sunlight stretched out below her as far as her eyes could see. Every moment of their flight bought them closer to a sound, the clear ringing tone of the azul pedradurite, the blue Singing Stone. Just as the sound's crescendo brought her to where she thought her ears would burst, she awoke.

It was so vivid. Sitting there on the edge of the bed, alone again in the light of day, Chenda felt her heart breaking, yearning for Edison to be there, comforting her loneliness and guiding her.

As Chenda went through the routine of washing the sleep from her eyes and dressing for the day ahead, she tried to fix the details of the dream in her mind. But, as all dreams do, the elements evaporated, leaving her with only the pulpy, raw emotions.

Glancing at Edison's picture on her bedside table, Chenda steeled herself for another day without him. She rejected the intricate braids and curls of her usual up-do and pulled her long, dark hair in a modest bun. The understated look matched her clothing, a colorless blouse and long plain walking skirt in brown silk. She turned away from her mirror and marched down the stairs to find Alme waiting dutifully, at the landing.