front, the engineers and senior crew to starboard, and the others scattered in between. Thirty men and woman—plus five girls and two boys. He knew their names now, most of their stories.
Yasmeen took the quarterdeck. Behind her, steam billowed in great clouds—the boilers at full, but the engines quiet for the next few minutes. The wind wafted thick tendrils of mist around the balloon, as if they were floating backward through a heavy fog. Archimedes stepped onto the quarterdeck, took his place behind her. Perhaps she didn’t want him there now; he didn’t know. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Even if she put a knife to his throat and told him to go, he’d never do anything but stand with her.
It was impossible to judge her reaction. Her expression appeared colder, harder than he’d seen in months—flint and steel, an angry fire waiting to be struck. The aviators quieted. Yasmeen’s voice carried over them.
“I am putting to rest the speculation that has run rampant aboard this ship since last evening, when I shot our passenger, Mr. Bilson—speculation that has increased since our hasty departure for Fladstrand this morning.”
She paused, as if in silent reprimand for their gossiping. Archimedes knew that she thought such speculations were to be expected, and mostly harmless. She only ever squashed rumors if they threatened to disrupt the order aboard her ship—and typically, the quartermaster or the mates squashed them, first. But she couldn’t mention their speculation without also correcting it, even if that correction lasted only the space of a breath.
A few aviators squirmed. That seemed to satisfy her. “Some of you remember Miss Zenobia Fox, who traveled with us from England to Fladstrand this spring. She is Mr. Fox’s sister, and the author of the Archimedes Fox adventures—and now the Lady Lynx adventures, as well. Last night, we discovered that Mr. Bilson had arranged her kidnap.”
A murmur passed through the gathered crew, a swelling of outrage and excitement. This demanded action, adventure—and undoubtedly, a fine reward. For many of them, this was probably what they’d hoped to find aboard her airship, and within a few months, she’d served it to them in spades. Escorting pilgrims to Mecca over Horde-occupied lands, encountering airship pirates in Venice and off the shores of the Canary Islands, carrying sharkhunters to the southern tip of the Americas, scouting for rebels in Castile, an unexpected run-in with smugglers at the Hapsburg Wall. Yes, they’d had adventures—enough even for Archimedes.
“Miss Fox has been taken to New Eden,” Yasmeen said. “Lady Nergüi is going after her.”
The excitement turned to disbelief. A discontented muttering began, heads turning as if they were all confirming what they’d heard.
Yasmeen held up her hand. Instant silence fell. “I recognize that to many of you, New Eden is a risk you wouldn’t want to take. That any airship wouldn’t take. And that you’d think any captain who tried is a fool.”
She said what they wouldn’t dare to…not where she might hear. Clever. On any vessel, whispers in the dark were the most dangerous. She brought it into the open.
And smashed it. “I’m not a fool. I don’t plan to fly Lady Nergüi near to New Eden, but only close enough to enter the city in another way. There is a risk, however, and you have until tomorrow at noon to decide whether you’ll leave this ship. If so, you’ll walk away with a full month’s wages and a season’s share in your purse.” Her cold gaze swept over them. “Let me be clear. New Eden poses no more threat than the Coiling Straits, the wall, or anywhere over Horde territory. There will always be danger aboard this ship. If you can’t face New Eden, then you aren’t suited for any other dangers we face—and you aren’t suited for my lady’s crew.”
A brief quiet fell, filled only by the sound of hissing steam and the wind. After a moment, Vashon spoke up. “I don’t need to wait until tomorrow, Captain. I’m with you.”
Fortescue and a few others nodded their agreement. Archimedes looked to the first mate. The quartermaster’s word had some weight, but not as much as she would have if she’d been aboard a longer time. His friend had that weight, but he wasn’t throwing it around yet. Longcock regarded the captain in silence as the mutters and declarations of loyalty swelled around them.
Yasmeen held up her hand, quieting them again. “Tomorrow,” she repeated. “Make certain this decision is your own.”
Longcock cleared his throat. “Captain?”
“Mr. Longcock.”
“I’m with you.