Heart of Gold (20 page)

He'd never seen a partially constructed dirigible
before. It looked like the skeleton of a creature from the
dawn of time. Giant ribs that would one day be covered
by a skin of aluminium were evenly spaced along the
central keel. The supports for the enormous gasbags that
would give the ship its lift were in place. Nothing had
been done on the control car or the motors.

Aubrey was in awe of the grace of the thing. While
some people found airships ponderous, he always
thought of them as stately, unhurried in a time where
speed was a god.

Gabriel condescended to notice Aubrey's admiration.
'You like our dirigibles?'

'I do. The Gallian service has come up with some
remarkable advances.'

'Gallian? It is Marchmainers who are the core of the
Dirigible Corps. We are the best pilots, the best navigators,
the best engineers. And here is the best of the best.'

A uniformed figure strode toward them.

'Ah, Saltin!' Gabriel called.

Aubrey saw that Saltin's left hand was still bandaged,
but his eyebrows and hair were well on the way to
growing back. He gripped Gabriel's hand. 'My friend!' he
said to Gabriel. 'I have an airship ready for your departure
as you requested. One hour and you will be in
Marchmaine.'

Gabriel glowered. 'We cannot go. We do not have the
treasure yet.'

Saltin opened his mouth to speak, but then he saw
Aubrey. His eyes widened. 'No, this cannot be!'

'What is it?' Gabriel asked.

'This is my saviour! Gabriel, I would not be here today
without him.' He took a pace and embraced Aubrey, then
kissed him on both cheeks. 'Fitzwilliam, I'm glad you're
finally here,' he said in Albionish. 'Have you come to see
our revolutionary new 200 design?' He saw George. 'And
your friend!' This led to another bout of embracing and
cheek kissing.

Saltin was a Marchmainer, but he was still a Gallian.
When he saw Caroline, he was overcome. 'And who is
this wondrous creature? Another friend of yours,
Fitzwilliam? If so, you are fortunate indeed.'

Aubrey made the introductions. Saltin bowed. 'I am
delighted to meet you, Miss Hepworth.'

'I am not a creature,' she said.

'I beg your pardon?' Saltin wrinkled his brow.

'I am a human being, as much as anyone. Not a
creature.'

'Ah, please excuse my boorishness! I do not know
what I am saying.' Saltin put his hand on Aubrey's
shoulder. 'I am glad you are here. I did not have the
chance to thank you in true fashion, with a toast. I have
a bottle or two from the family cellars in my office.'

'No time for that now,' Gabriel said sourly. 'Is he who
he says he is? An Albionite?'

'Of course he is. How could the son of their Prime
Minister be anything but?'

While Aubrey watched Gabriel's expression change
from suspicion to astonishment, he tried to think how he
could turn this revelation to his advantage.

'Sir Darius's son?' Gabriel said with tones that
suggested that this was a synonym for 'a useful political
lever'.

'I have that honour.'

George wandered to a nearby workbench and reached
for a spanner. 'Don't touch that,' Gabriel snapped.

George raised an eyebrow at Aubrey, who translated
for him. 'He doesn't speak much Gallian,' he explained to
Gabriel, then he frowned and rubbed his hands together.
Magic was stirring, somewhere nearby. 'What's that
noise?'

From outside the hangar, shouts and cries of fear
competed with a deep, growling sound. He turned in
time to see two Marchmainers running through a door.
One of them had blood streaming from his forehead.
Aubrey stared. They were being chased by a bear.

Aubrey had seen bears in the zoo – fat, lazy creatures
who looked as if they'd enjoyed a bun too many. This
beast was recognisably related, but only in the same way
that a pug and a wolf were cousins.

It was huge, the size of a bull. Great muscles moved
underneath its fur, driving massive limbs toward its prey.
As it came through the doorway, its flank crashed against
the metal, bending it out of shape. It paused, then reared
onto its back legs, roaring and slashing at the air with
wicked claws.

The roar echoed around the hangar, and slipped
straight past the usually competent filter of Aubrey's
brain. Instead, it went directly to some small, hidden
gland that seemed to have the responsibility for inducing
marrow-freezing terror when confronted by a bear. The
gland may have been a busy worker in the early days of
humanity, but with the dearth of bears in the last few
centuries it had been quite idle for a long time. Judging
by the effects the roar was having, Aubrey guessed the
gland was making up for lost time.

He broke out in a cold sweat. His legs trembled and his
feet were moving, ready to help him run for his life. His
heart thundered, and his mouth went dry.

Then the bear dropped to all fours and charged at the
fleeing Marchmainers, moving from its sitting position to
motion in one, smooth action. The nearest Marchmainer
made a lucky decision and darted sideways. The bear
tried to change direction but skidded on the concrete
floor and crashed into a barrel of scrap iron. It sprawled
for a moment, then it rolled and sat up, shaking itself just
like a wet dog.

The clangour seemed to waken the onlookers from a
dream. Gabriel whipped out his knife, then stared at it
and the bear. He jammed it back in its sheath with a
curse.

Caroline shook her sleeve and a length of iron bar fell
into her hand. Before Aubrey could wonder where she'd
got it from, she threw it at the bear. It struck the animal
in the chest, but, apart from drawing its attention, had no
other effect. The bear dropped to all fours and shook its
muzzle, which was, Aubrey noted with misgiving, bloody.

Then he realised that the magic he'd felt was coming
from the bear.

He backed up a step, heart racing in his chest, and
bumped into the workbench. He felt behind him,
without taking his eyes from the very unhappy bear.

'Don't move suddenly,' Saltin said. 'He may not be
interested in us.'

'I don't care,' Aubrey said. 'I'm sure being attacked by
an uninterested bear hurts just as much as being attacked
by an interested bear.'

'No doubt you are right.'

Aubrey locked eyes with Caroline. 'Bears can climb.'

'Trees,' she said, 'but it may not know much about scaffolding.'

'Neither do I,' said George, 'but I'm willing to learn,
and very quickly.'

The two Marchmainers who had been the bear's
original prey had managed to scramble over the scrap
heap and to put a flat-bed lorry between them and the
brute. One had armed himself with a length of chain
while the other had a sheet of galvanised iron.

With slow, deliberate movements, Caroline took off
her bonnet and kicked off her shoes to stand in bare feet.
Then, to the amazement of the Marchmainers, whose
attention was torn between her and the bear, she
discarded her dress to stand, poised, in what she'd called
her fighting uniform.

It was black silk, a two-piece outfit – jacket and
trousers, tied with a cloth belt about her waist. Aubrey
had seen her in it before, but familiarity had not dulled
the experience.

Caroline caught him staring and rolled her eyes. He
held up a hand in mute apology, but he felt inspired
enough to try some magic. He was sure he could conjure
up something, even given his diminished reserves of
strength.

After all
, he thought,
it's only a bear
.

His binding spell wouldn't be strong enough to hold
the massive creature. He'd used the stinking cloud
recently enough to feel confident in rolling it out again,
but the notion chafed at him. It would be like telling a
joke twice. Not good showmanship.

A spell suggested itself. The Law of Thermal Impermanence
said that the longer the duration of magically
conjured heat, the more difficult the spell. But if he could
cast a number of tightly focussed, short-lasting spots of
heat on the floor, he may be able to herd the bear back
outside. Neat, harmless, but it should prove to be quite
dramatic. The spell was undemanding, and he was sure he
could handle it.

He aligned the elements in his mind, then he pronounced
them crisply so that the first spot of heat would
appear right under the bear's rear paws.

The animal growled, then leaped to one side in an
ungainly bound. It peered suspiciously at its feet, but
Aubrey was ready. He repeated the spell with different
locational coordinates and the bear lumbered forward
again, huffing as it shuffled away from the hot spot.

Aubrey was aware that Caroline was watching him
closely. George inched around the bench while the bear
was distracted. 'I'll slam the door if you can get him
outside,' he said.

The bear sniffed, trying to find what was tormenting
it. Aubrey snapped out the spell twice in quick succession
and felt a surge of dizziness. He ignored it and the bear
dropped into a rolling waddle.

That's right
, Aubrey thought as the beast came closer to
the open door.
Keep going that way and I won't have to do
it again.

The bear reached the door, then it shied away, turning
its massive body around.

No you don't
, thought Aubrey, and he cast the spell
again, with a little extra in the element for intensity. One
good jolt might be enough.

A teeth-jarring thump and clouds of oily smoke
exploded into the air. 'Who set the oil sump on fire?'
Gabriel shouted, then Aubrey lost sight of him.

The bear disappeared in the roiling billows, roaring its
displeasure. The door vanished. The workbenches and
eventually the dirigible were swallowed up. Overhead,
the electric lights struggled with the smoke and looked
like tired suns.

Coughing, eyes streaming, Aubrey dropped to the
floor, looking for sweet air. He heard curses and crashes
and the sound of a frightened animal looking for a way
out of this hellish place. He peered about frantically,
trying to see if the bear was near, but even though the air
was clear near the concrete floor, he couldn't see far.

Then, with a start, he realised he wasn't smelling
anything.

The smoke
, he thought.
It should be biting, acrid, awfulsmelling.
He took a deep sniff but nothing came to him.
His senses were failing, and he rested his forehead against
the cool concrete in despair.

A hand touched his and he jumped. 'It's me,' whispered
Caroline. She crouched at his side. She had a handkerchief
tied over her mouth and nose. 'The scaffolding
is about twenty yards over there.'

'Have you seen George?' Aubrey knelt, like a sprinter
ready to run. The smoke made his eyes stream, and he
dashed the tears away with the back of his hand.

'He went in that direction.'

More roaring came through the smoke, and this time
it was followed by screams of pain.

Slowly, they moved away from the sound of the bear.
Soon, Aubrey's outstretched fingers found metal. With
relief, he grasped the uprights of the scaffolding
surrounding the dirigible. 'Here,' he whispered.

He held out his hand to Caroline and felt a thrill when
she took it. He guided her to the scaffolding and they
climbed to the heights, where the smoke was eyestingingly
thick. Aubrey's throat felt as if it had been
rubbed with coarse sandpaper, but he still couldn't smell
anything at all. His deterioration was accelerating.

The scaffolding enclosed a catwalk that ran around the
entire construction. Aubrey was close enough to the
skeleton of the dirigible that he could touch it. Through
the smoke it could have been the remains of a fairytale
castle, great towers and turrets thrusting through the mist.

Aubrey felt the movement of air on his face. 'Good
man.'

'What is it?'

'George has opened the hangar doors. Now, we need
to open the other end to get some real air flow. The
smoke won't go until we do.'

'Follow me.' She saw Aubrey's expression. 'I have a
better sense of direction than you do.'

Harsh, but fair
, he thought. 'Lead away.'

Caroline moved in a half-crouch, gracefully slipping
along the catwalk. Aubrey endeavoured not to clang
along the iron grating, but he was sure that anyone near
would be able to track their movements.

Caroline stopped, crouched even lower, and held up a
hand.

He drew close. 'What is it?'

'I saw someone ahead. In the construction area.'

Aubrey chewed his lip. Workers wouldn't be here this
late. Inspectors of some sort? Wouldn't they be raising a
hue and cry? Perhaps Saltin had somehow managed to
make his way through the belly of the dirigible.

Suddenly, blinding white light erupted from up ahead,
followed by a thumping blast and a wave of heat. The
whole hangar shook with the explosion. The scaffolding
swayed dangerously. Somewhere, glass shattered. Crashes
and the groans of crumpling girders rippled through the
smoke. Aubrey was nearly thrown from the catwalk but
clutched at a strut with both hands. He hung, gasping.
Purple flashes bounced in front of his eyes, but he felt no
taint of magic. It was a chemical explosive, but no less
devastating.

He dangled, trying to get his breath back, and saw
Caroline stretched out on the catwalk nearby. He was
about to cry out when she slipped to her feet and
dragged him up. He stood and gripped the scaffolding,
unwilling to let go completely.

'What was that?' he shouted to Caroline. As he did,
a flat crack sounded from the far side of the hangar.
His hands went numb, and he heard a sharp ringing. He
hissed and let go of the scaffolding, shaking his hands.

He stared at the pipe. A dent and a long, bright streak
showed where a bullet had barely missed him.