Audrey had slipped into something of a reverie since the Viscount’s detailing of the Canal, half listening-half dreaming of the quiet waterway. Imagined sunlight is just creeping into the darkness behind her eyes when etiquette and talk of alchemy jolts her back. Blinking herself back into awareness, she finds that it’s the pseudoscience that concerns her more than her rudeness.
It’s a new voice speaking, a new man who smells of something burning rotten in a beaker, and he has her attention right away. Especially with the words “driving lesser men mad” – instinctively she turns and stares. He returns the attention with a smirk, which doesn’t waver when she speaks.
“I normally wouldn’t be such a braggart, but to such immodesty I must admit that I am not impressed,” she says quietly. “Hardly the most fascinating sigils; rather, they only made me scream for around a week. Of no sleep, of course, but.” A slight shrug in the following pause. “Will no one volunteer? Surely we can’t let the pace fall slack. I was hoping to not be among the first to share, but this does bring a tale to mind. A tale of a very great man…”
The Second Tale: How Audrey Shae served an Unspecified Archduke tea on her first adventure (and met her husband in the process)
“It was years ago, mind. I don’t think I could go back to the Surface in my current state, but… well. Years ago. Old times; I was young, very young, just out of school. I was much hungrier, then, for adventure and knowledge and crusades. School had been a disappointment, having received as much learning as a girl of my modest standing could hope to receive on the Surface, but graduation was a release that gave me, honestly, much too much freedom.
“I didn’t go far; at least, not at first, not on purpose. I frequented seminars. Assemblies I shouldn’t have gone to. Random events that seemed raucous and fantastic. And there I saw him.
“Hugh was older than me, but at the time he was still a blundering reporter that few people took seriously when he tried to do things on his own. He was currently trying to get attention, and he had finally gotten some. Probably the wrong kind, there were people wearing masks, and the wailing and yelling of some angry constable weren’t too far away.
“There was also a cage, covered by a thick black cloth, and it was rattling ferociously. People were trying to stay away from it, you see, but I pushed my way to the very front. It all seemed very fascinating and more than a little bit worrying – but I must confess that’s not where the majority of my interest lay. He just seemed so intent on showing the world what was in his cage; he didn’t care that he looked ridiculous camped on a soap box blocking the entrance of a more important venue with a set that looked like it came from a variety show that involved monkeys and flame. He was shouting about Zanzibar and jungles and research and, and words I couldn’t catch, and it was breathtaking.
“Then I suppose his hand slipped, because from the back of the cage was this loud clang, a roar, and something black as night and quick as it too shot out. His reputation probably would have come out in that moment as well, if I hadn’t decided, for some reason, to knock the cage over the same instant. I made it look like I did it; wasn’t quite sure why at the time, but from then on I knew I had a part in the action.
“I can hardly remember what happened next. I don’t even think I got a clear look at the thing that escaped. But I was sitting in jail for longer than I’d like to recall, something about causing a public disturbance. I thought it was interesting; a great time to see another place. It’s only too bad I would be going there at least half a dozen times more; it wasn’t so marvelous after the first few.
“But, oddly enough, who came to save my good name? It was Hugh, whom I had half expected to never see again. By taking the blame for the incident I’d saved his fledgling reputation, at least for the time being. We got around to talking, and he invited me to join him on his next expedition to Tibet. I knew he was being genuine – but I also knew, or almost knew, that this would somehow manage to be a giant flop.
“It did, but I went anyway.
“The first route that comes to mind is the Silk Road, but with all the equipment that he sustained so adamantly that he needed, we took a ship. I didn’t see anyone else who was traveling with him, working with him, hired by him, which struck me as very odd seeing as the work he had proclaimed earlier seemed to entail the research of many men. But I didn’t mind it, as it made the majority of the ride much more pleasant.
“We were approaching a stop on the north African coast when a storm rolled in. I had been on the deck, looking at how big the ocean was, when the rain first began to fall. I scrambled inside, and then the waves began to roll. The ship wasn’t enormous, and it was tossed back and forth. I had no sense of balance in the water to begin with, and I was thrown into the air like a ragdoll. On one particularly turbulent pitch I was thrown past a swinging door and down a flight of stairs I hadn’t gone down before, and when I steadied myself and tried the door to get back up it had locked.
“I must have banged and yelled at that door for ages, but being at the top of a flight of stairs was not a safe spot at the time, so I descended and looked around. The lanterns were scarcely flickering and swaying violently and the shadows danced around the floor and walls. It was a cargo room, a little sparse and a dusty mess. I took a lantern and walked about the floor.
“Thunder clapped outside, the floor swung this way and that, and the darkness of the room, an odd silence that softened the storm outside, wrapped around me. It was cold enough to see your breath, hear your shivers, feel your fear creep in step with you. I cautiously came to the last corner of the room, where for the first time I heard it.
“It was a low growling. It was accompanied by a wooden shaking, heavy huffs. I followed the sounds like an idiot. They led me to a large crate, tall as me, and positively quivering. I touched my hand to it and felt it quake, so I pulled back the same instant. Then my elbow hit something, a table? A rack? Boxes behind it, for sure. Boxes of ammunition. There was a supply of guns, pistols and rifles, and ammunition – which struck me suddenly as very, very odd. What use could it be in Tibet?
“But I soon found a pistol in my hand. I had never held a gun before, and had thought at the time that maybe never would again. I’ve found myself in many a situation involving guns since then, of course, in both the role of the gunholder and the one at gunpoint. But at the time it was electrifying. I felt as if it had given me some great power – and of course in my foolishness I accidentally fired.
“I hadn’t the time to hope – hope that it wouldn’t rupture the hull of the ship and drown us all – I just ducked as it ricocheted off a porthole and a lantern or two. In retrospect it was remarkably lucky. But where it did land certainly wasn’t. The bullet had lodged itself in the corner of the quaking box.
“I uncurled myself cautiously, then stood back up. I dropped the pistol, of course, and then surveyed the damage. Whatever was in the monstrous crate had fallen silent; when I strode to assess the box’s structural integrity, knocking on the wood lightly, it fell apart in a cloud of sawdust. I jumped back with a start – something ran past me, snorting a storm, then around up the stairs.
“At first I was shocked out of rhyme and reason. Then my thoughts came back to me all a jumble, but most importantly I knew I had to stop that rampaging animal – which made sense at the time, even though it was clearly a large-bodied beast and I was hardly wider than a beam.
“It had rammed its way through the locked door, emerging in the lit hallway. In the darkness I had assumed it to be an angry herd creature, something along the lines of an ox, but in the light I realized it was an albino ox, and its coat was a matted dirty snow. I hadn’t even known things like that existed. It was like something out of a fantastically fanciful novel, but I didn’t dwell on that long, for things had been boiling up there as well. Apparently Hugh had no sense for character, or ships, or traveling, or finances, or political intrigue, or illegal commerce, or, well, whatever it was. I don’t know, and I don’t think he did either. But it certainly got him into trouble. It would go on to get him into much too much trouble than any of it was ever worth.
“We had dropped anchor, though we weren’t at a port or even the shore yet. I emerged from the cargo stores right on the ox’s heels to see that it had trampled at least three men with smoking pistols and daggers. Hugh was standing, backed up to the wall and too surprised to even gasp, having just barely evaded the beast’s destructive path. I asked him, what in the world are you doing?! and he couldn’t even respond, he was so shocked.
“One of the men stirred, which made me jump – I’d never encountered such dangerous men before, but the first idea I had was to kick him. So I did, and it seemed to do the trick. I took one of their guns that wasn’t smoking and so, I hoped, still had something to shoot in it, and took off after the ox. It was terrifying, but I think that’s exactly why I went after it. It was going on a violent rampage around a ship of treacherous seamen and for some reason this was something I felt I could not miss.
“It barreled its way to the deck, which was slippery and sopping from the storm. There I was faced with a villain who drew his dagger on me, but I had no time for him. I raised the gun and drew up all my courage in a single breath and shot, but for all my nerves and inexperience it flew over his shoulder. There was another surprise though – also for all my nerves and inexperience, I had failed to notice that I had not picked up a normal gun. What came flying from the barrel with a loud whistle was a burning red spark – a flare gun. The man’s shoulder smoldered with passing sparks, and while he was thus occupied I kicked him in the stomach. He tumbled out of my way and I tossed the gun aside.
“The ox had been running around like a bull in a china closet – surprisingly nimble and careful, if you’ve ever seen it. It shied away from windows and ropes and barrels but still sprinted with frustration and rage. Men flew out from every direction to avoid it. I ran as fast as I could, finally catching its tail just as it decided to forsake the damn boat. We fell into the ocean.
“I had never liked swimming, nothing good has ever come from my experiences with water above or below the earth. I flailed, lost grip on the beast’s tail. It thrashed as well, but quickly sunk in a flurry of bubbles. I was afraid its release and death would be my fault as well – genuinely my fault this time – but could do nothing besides attempt to stay afloat myself. I struggled in the direction of the nearest shore.
“Then the bubbles, which were still rising from the ox’s snorts below, began to move in the same direction. I dived under briefly, to see if I could glimpse it through the green seawater. Apparently the water was not so deep as I had previously thought, for the ox had landed on the bottom and was running towards the shore as well, albeit underwater and incredibly slowly. This strengthened my resolve and weakened my debilitating fear of drowning.
“I reached the sand choking and wheezing, but nonetheless I reached it alive and conscious. A busy town was just up the slope. Not long afterwards the ox emerged, its snorts expelling water and its frame heaving. Before I dared approach it, it shook itself dry and trotted back into the water. This time there were no bubbles, and I waited a while but it did not return.
“It was the oddest thing.
“But besides that. Now I carried myself up back to the town. I was only somewhat dry. Almost immediately after setting foot on the paved street I was grabbed. My hands were put behind me and someone with sour breath was charging me with some sort of naval theft and assault – apparently the flare gun had set the deck on fire. But the crew had also accused me of stealing the ship, which was a gross injustice that I was ready to defend myself against.
“At another time, though, for now I was surely outmatched. I denied their allegations with rousing calls upon my rights and morals and standards, a few cries of ‘injustice, I say, injustice!’, then planned to go rather quietly, if rather humiliatingly – I could see I was going to be led like a common criminal through the larger portion of the town. I bit my tongue though and steeled myself to suffer through it with at least a shred of dignity, when out of the crowd came a flying fist.
“First the officers holding me were assailed; then stalls were pushed over into the street; then a man was yelled at, his grandmother accused of being a goat and his goat accused of lechery with sheep and his jars, the transparency of his jars called into question. Or so I thought was said. The words were uttered in a different language. Later explanations come hazily to me at best. But now, chaos broke loose. I rubbed my wrists for a moment, then someone else had grabbed them, and I was running through the heaving streets behind Hugh, who was then struck by another brilliant idea. A true stroke of genius.
“There was a terrific show a good few streets over, the centerpiece of which was a huge and dazzling balloon, straining against ropes and sandbags to lurch into the sky. It was being showcased before a large crowd of interested and relevant scientists and eager children. We burst onto the scene, vaulted into the basket, and cut the ropes.
“I saw children watching, eyes wide in awe as we rose. I also saw children crying, but I’m sure it didn’t affect their growing up. I’m sure.
“In the air, Hugh began adjusting ropes and the flame and dropping things over the edge. Again I asked him, what in the world are you doing?! Again he could give no reasonable answer, though he did have other things to say, about how he sort of partially studied hot air balloons a while ago, definitely enough to operate one now. Definitely. It was all very reassuring.
“It was now I was told that the crew had turned on him when he asked why they had so many unlabeled boxes that smelled of chloroform and other assorted things that he was sure they would never use for any purposes less than stellar. He’d lost all his money, all his work, all his equipment on that boat, and none of his men because he’d never had any men.
“Now the plan was to fly back into Europe. The balloon wouldn’t last long, but, he assured me that as long as it didn’t catch fire we would surely have enough time to land semi-safely somewhere on the continent. Upon my request he also told me that the probability that the balloon would catch fire was somewhere upwards of sixty percent.
“Despite this we got along swimmingly.
“We spent a few days and nights in that balloon. The fire did threaten to set things aflame, but numerous times it wasn’t the balloon. With no control over our direction, we were only sure that the prevailing winds were taking us north. Alarmingly, though, I noticed that we were slowly but surely losing altitude. I’m sure he noticed as well but he didn’t bring it up. It was of no consequence but I occasionally wonder if it was because of insecurity or a sense of chivalry…? But besides, besides.
“We approached a large city. Our fuel had been running out, the flame weakening, flickering. We began to descend, quite rapidly, and it was all I could do to hold onto the basket and him while Hugh frantically searched his entire person for his lighter. Apparently it had not occurred to him earlier to find it; later I would find that his forgetfulness was a recurring theme. Finally he found it, somewhere in an inner secret pocket that would always stay dry, and he smashed it open and poured all the fluid into the fire.
“This was not a good idea.
“The fire exploded. We rose again, for sure, but now not only the balloon but the basket was on fire as well. We had no time to look down but I can say with almost utter certainty that the people below us were terrified. Women emerged from windows to throw water on us, which was thoughtful of them. In this way the basket was put out, thankfully. The balloon was officially out of control, though, and we dragged through trees as we rose a little more.
“Once we passed the few treetops, though, the basket was pulled from the leaves and swung in a grand arc. At first I grabbed Hugh to keep him from falling, but the next swing sent me flying. I just barely caught onto one of the basket’s many hanging ropes. Hugh yelled over the crackling of the fire that he’d try and land us somewhere, and I yelled back some choice words of urgency.
“This rope, of course, was much less stable than the basket. Even when the basket grew relatively still, the winds whipped me around like a leaf. Now I glanced about, though. Yes, the people from the town were definitely staring at us. But they were also staring behind us, at where we were headed – we had crossed fences and finely-trimmed hedges and were now floating haphazardly over some well-kept gardens.
“Too well-kept, actually. Soon enough I heard crisp voices, in German, a language I partially knew. Something about an archduke – we’d wandered into militarily royal territory, and a very rich and royal man was being served rich tea in the royal gardens.
“Royalty are not my favorite people. This new situation was filling me with a newer, even heavier sense of dread as I held on for dear life to this swinging rope. I prayed we’d pass him uneventfully, but we didn’t have that much control. The balloon was slowing down now, the winds dying down, and as the rope stilled itself I started aiming to grab something to slow me down. A wall, perhaps, some ivy; anything.
“I ran into the tea man. Straight into him – he was pushed out of the way, into some bushes without a word. His platter was thrown into the air, and by instinct my arm shot out and caught it and its clattering contents as I swung back. I touched the ground and dragged my feet, digging deep enough to stand still for a moment. Sitting right before me was some archduke, engrossed in the paper. I held my breath, expecting a shocked Austrian to turn and call for the guards, but no such thing. He was utterly oblivious.
“He waved his hand a little. I offered the platter with a polite ‘there you are,’ and without glancing in the slightest he took the cup and sipped from it nonchalantly.
“Only now did Hugh believe it was a sufficiently dire situation enough to pull me back up. The archduke only realized that a small English voice had responded to him once I was clambering back into the basket. He whipped around in time to see his platter come crashing down and a large shadow passing over him slowly.
“The fire in the balloon, quite luckily, had gone on the inside of the cloth rather than the outside, and burnt out quickly. However, the tattered and burnt edges were still aglow with bright embers, so as quickly as possible Hugh put out the flame and semi-safely landed in a bustling square. And then we ran.”
Audrey pauses, then shrugs. “As it turns out, we landed in Sarajevo.”