out of gaol, Pa. But you have to be quiet. Rouse the other boys and come away quick, before they decide to check to see if you’re dead.”
“I think Alignak might be hurt. Ribs. And Tartok took a pretty bad hit to the head. He’s out cold.”
“What about you?”
“I’m fine.” Gasping, he pulled himself to his feet while Alice swung the panel open.
He was not fine. But it was brave of him not to show it.
She wriggled out of her topmost petticoat. What a lucky thing both she and Claire had lots of them, with multiple flounces of gathered eyelet. At the rate they were going, they’d use every yard for bandages before they got away from this inhospitable country.
“Girls, take this to the bottom of the steps. I want it ripped into strips by the time we get the men down. We’ll patch them up as best we can. Then we’ll have to hoof it before Penhaven and his bunch come back and find the room empty.”
Alignak had heard their whispered exchange and was already on his feet by the time Alice poked her head into the next latrine compartment. He limped out and went immediately to the third one.
“Tartok sleeps,” he whispered, his sloe-black eyes worried. “A demon sleep.”
“Demons made him that way, that’s certain,” Alice whispered back. “Pa, can you lift him with just one arm?”
“Yes.”
Alice helped him shoulder the young man and bit back a cry when she saw her father lose all color and gasp in pain. But he said not a word. He maneuvered Tartok through the opening and took the steps carefully. Alignak followed right behind, holding his ribs as if trying to keep them in place.
Alice brought up the rear and closed and fastened the door. If only there were a way to block it! But thock place.
Only cold silence, and the yellow ribbon of electrick light fading into the distance.
A click sounded above them, at the top of the steps leading to her ladyship’s dressing room. Alice fell to her knees as her father put Tartok down, and began binding up wounds as fast as Lizzie could hand her the torn strips of eyelet. Maggie went up to investigate.
“Lady!” Alice heard her whisper. “Come quick!”
“Do you have them?” came Claire’s quiet voice.
“Aye. That Meriwether-whatsis mort ’ad ’em put right where you said.”
“Are they hurt?”
“Aye. Come away down, Lady. We gots to get out of ’ere.”
Chapter 23
Claire wasted no time in assisting Alice, fabricating a sling out of a length of white voile for Chalmers’s arm, and binding up Alignak’s ribs with half a second petticoat.
“What luck you’re still in evening dress,” she whispered to Alice. “This rig doesn’t allow for petticoats—though I’m tempted to add a number of layers of ruffles. They seem to come in handy rather regularly.”
“It’s this place,” Alice whispered back. “Once we’re clear of assassins, our clothes ought to be fine.”
“Speaking of assassins, were you able to speak to the count?”
In the dim light, Alice looked stricken. “I forgot all about him,” she said in horror.
Frederick Chalmers looked up from tightening the knots on his sling. “You what? You mean you didn’t warn him to lift?”
“No, Pa, I was too busy trying to save your hide.”
“But this is terrible! We must—”
“We must do nothing but get you out of here before you’re recaptured and hanged,” Claire said briskly. “We’re not likely to get a second chance to spirit you out of a locked room. I will see to Count von Zeppelin.”
“And I will get you all in the air without delay.” Alice’s gaze was as stony as the one her father leveled upon her. There was no doubt in the world that the two of them were related. Claire wondered who would win this contest of wills.
“But—”
“Chama,” Alignak interrupted, “we must get Tartok to Malina or his spirit will leave him. And we must warn the village so the goddess whales may sail.”
Frederick Chalmers gazed from the young man to his daughter, clearly torn between two equally important choices. But to Claire, there was only one.
“You leave the count to me,” she repeated. “I will have him in the sky within the hour, I promise you.”
“Do you know where he is?” Alice asked.
“No, but it cannot be difficult to find out.”
“Just look for an assassin,” Maggie put in helpfully.
Tartok stirred, but then his eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped into unconsciousness again. “We must go,” Alignak said, his voice hoarse with anxiety.