Alkimiya - A Fantasy Mystery Series

TWENTY - An Ocean of Ghosts

Zenetra reacted on pure instinct. She reached for Inspector Hatwig, her hand enclosing around a golden-hued wrist, and caught the falling woman. By force of will and sheer luck, she managed to pull Inspector Hatwig back to the railing.

Magnetic flakes spread like black ivy over the deck, making Sunray creak of metal on metal. The airship tilted again. The weight was too disproportionate thanks to Inspector Hatwig's alchemic workings, however, and the heavy hull brought the airship—a moaning metal frame—crashing back down.

"Brace!" yelled Inspector Hatwig.

There was nothing for them to brace onto, though, and when the hull slapped the water, Zenetra and Inspector Hatwig rolled across the deck like two of Nibbs' golden onions.

Zenetra blinked, somewhat nauseated, and watched as something black crawled over the side of the hull. A vine of flakes reached for her pinky finger.

There was a harsh tug on her other arm and Zenetra's body moved out of reach of the flakes.

"Up, Cadet!" yelled Inspector Hatwig. She dragged Zenetra by the arm, shouting, "Up! Up! Up!" until Zenetra stumbled to her feet.

They staggered to the bridge. Inspector Hatwig ripped open the door to the mess hall, screamed, "To the navigation room! Now!" and pushed Zenetra to the stairs. "Up, Cadet! That's an order!"

Zenetra's resolve to stay with Inspector Hatwig wavered as Mimi jumped out of the door and passed by with a chipper and out of place, "Coming, Zenetra?" as she raced up the stairwell.

Carver and Healer Pilluck emerged next, carrying a consternated Onnan between them. Nibbs, Delwyn, and Lothar wobbled out after, all of whom were green in the face. Zenetra followed the others up the stairwell, casting one worried glance back at Inspector Hatwig.

Powder blue trench coat whipping around her body, white sash glittering against the backdrop of creeping charcoal flakes, and with strips of smoking paper flying from her belt, Inspector Hatwig danced around the danger as though she were wind gliding through the branches of trees.

Zenetra fled, useless to an alchemist now, and bounded up the last few steps with the image of Inspector Hatwig imprinted on her mind.

The navigation room was in chaos. Maps and stationery were strewn over the floor. Broken ink pens leaked little puddles of colored liquid. Navigational books had fallen from their shelves, their pages bent and crinkled. A small area of the front windscreen was a spider's web of broken glass. Traces of blood were in the cracks.

James sat strapped into the winger's chair behind the broken windscreen, his forehead bleeding from a deep gash. He was alarmingly pale. It made his wine-speckled freckles more prominent on his cheeks, nose, and chin.

Buckled into one of the foldable chairs that lined the walls was Tilde, her hair disheveled. Seated by her side was Mimi, who was ensuring that Raoul's belt had been locked in the next seat over, behaving as though this was a simple bout of turbulence.

"You daft idiots!" Onnan shouted into Carver's impassive face. "That hurts!"

Carver, Healer Pilluck, and Nibbs eased the intolerable man into one of the seats, but it was clear they had no more patience to spare. At the outburst, Healer Pilluck became incensed. Cheeks reddening, eyes narrowing, she growled at her patient. "Shut it, Garryk, or I'll sedate you." She put her face in front of his, with nose touching nose, and added, "With. My. Fist."

Onnan's face purpled, a tell tale sign he was ready to release a tirade, but Healer Pilluck yanked his belt and the insult died on his lips. The gray-haired healer strapped herself in next to him, her professionalism seeming to outweigh every fiber of ill will she had for the ornery man.