Astrid Darby and the Circus in the Sky Read online

now, if you please.”

  Flaire lifted his chin defiantly. I rolled my eyes. It never did do to behave like a child in such circumstances. Though I felt a slight twinge of regret for doing so, I swung my gun hand to aim the small brass pistol at Elodie.

  Eitenne gasped in horror. “Mrs Darby!”

  “Mr Flaire, I suggest you calm yourself and lay down your weapon,” I told him.

  “Indeed. You are under arrest for...” Asher gestured wildly around with his free hand. “Whatever this is.”

  “And kidnapping,” I added pleasantly.

  “Yes. And kidnapping a Ministry of Defence agent and a favoured friend of the crown.”

  “Are you speaking about me?”

  Asher rolled his eyes. “Who else would I be speaking of, Astrid?”

  “Oh, well that's very nice.” I turned back to Flaire with a stern look. “And for brandishing a weapon with the intent to kill us.”

  “Yes,” Asher agreed. “That also. You are in very big trouble. All of those things are very bad.”

  “You ought to be highly ashamed of yourself.”

  Asher took another step towards Flaire, and the ringmaster lowered his gun. His shoulders slumped miserably. He lifted his head to meet Elodie's gaze, and in that instant, I realised our little speech had not ensured our success in his capture. Before Asher or I could reach him, Flaire seized Elodie's arm and, in a puff of his magnificent smoke, they disappeared.

  So close to the smoke, I noted absently that it smelled faintly of flowers.

  “Elodie!” Eitenne cried, pressing his hands to his head. He would be of little help in this matter, I suspected.

  Asher cursed loudly and spun towards the guards as though they might, too, have escaped him. Flaire had not thought to take them with him. They lifted their hands in surrender as Asher pushed past them into the corridor outside the chamber. There was no sign of the ringmaster or his accomplice.

  “So,” I began conversationally. “What would you like to do now?”

  “I declare this particular case an official Ministry investigation, and the Ministry does not abide escape artists. We find him.”

  “Well, that suits me fine. I have already received my payment for this particular job, and I have performed the task as set before me. I have uncovered the nature of the evil scheme upon the ship and fulfilled my obligations to Eitenne regarding his sister.”

  “And how, precisely, have you done that?”

  “I have simply facilitated his own realisation that she is quite beyond him and beyond help now.”

  “Ah. Not, I expect, what the young man had envisioned as an ideal outcome.”

  “No, I should think not. In any case, I am, as they say, square. As such, I am perfectly content to assist you in your cause, as I am certain it shall be more entertaining than yet another a night in with Xander and Juliana whilst they discuss, in excruciating and tremendously dull detail, the latest hair-brained scientific theory by whichever mad physicist or chemist in whom they have taken interest today.”

  “We are in accord, then.”

  “Who would have ever expected such a thing? Where do you propose we search for the man?”

  “He has not left this ship; of that we can be reasonably certain.”

  “Indeed, unless he has some sort of matter transporter, which Xander assures me is highly impossible, it is unlikely even such an accomplished escape artist can have overcome the small issue of being currently in the air.” I strode back into Flaire's chamber, where Eitenne slumped against the wall in a state of extreme dejection. “Eitenne!”

  He started so violently, he stumbled forwards. “Mrs Darby?”

  “If you would be so kind, we require your assistance in locating where upon the ship your master and sister may have gone. You may possess insight into where they might be hiding that we do not.”

  He stared at me, mouth agape.

  Asher strode into the room on my heels. “I am very sorry about your sister, Mr Allard,” he said briskly, “but this is now a matter of national security. I require your assistance in apprehending the perpetrators, lest you be considered an accessory to the grievous crime.”

  Eitenne looked utterly horrified. “I have nothing to do with any of this!”

  “I assure you, Mr Allard, in the eyes of the Ministry, it will make no difference.”

  The young funambulist's mouth turned down in a terrible pout. “I will help you. Just...don't hurt Elodie. She is innocent. She is misguided and has allowed Pietro to fool her somehow.”

  “I understand your feelings,” I told him bracingly. “We will do our best to treat your sister with the utmost care.”

  “Have you any ideas where Flaire has taken your sister?”

  He shook his head. “I haven't...when he disappears, it is usually through a trap door beneath. There are several around the ship, mostly in the lounge and the arena areas where guests are about. The smoke conceals the platform mechanism.”

  “Ah. Indeed. And so, where does this mechanism take him?”

  “There is a galley beneath the ship, I understand, though I have never seen it.”

  “Ah, also likely where the clockwork mechanism is located. Can you show it to us?”

  “I have never used it. I know not how it is triggered.”

  “But there must be a trap door here in this room somewhere, yes? In the very spot into which he and your sister disappeared?” Asher demanded.

  “I would think so.”

  “A clever one, that Flaire,” I remarked. “He must have anticipated he might require a means of escape. He might have been prepared to disappear at any moment it seemed he might not come off the best in our confrontation.”

  Asher nodded perfunctorily. “Show me,” he ordered Eitenne.

  The young man dropped immediately to his knees. The floor beneath our feet was smooth. It appeared to be some sort of wood, but I suspected it was of some other lighter substance; some composite or synthetic plastic, perhaps. The funambulist ran his slender fingers across it, as though searching for some divot or trigger mechanism we could not see. His face contorted into a frown of concentration.

  Without warning, a small panel of floor fell away. Eitenne nearly tumbled into the vast darkness below. Asher darted forwards to steady him. “Well, I think that explains matters,” I said blithely. “Our villain is not, in fact, a sorcerer. Well done, Eitenne.”

  But Eitenne did not look as though he was pleased with the discovery. He scrambled backwards, away from the hole in the floor. He looked up at me with plaintive eyes. “You will not harm her?”

  “I promise to do our utmost best,” Asher replied, staring keenly at the opening like a dog scenting his prey in the air. “Mr Allard, I suggest you return now to your room. You have been quite helpful. We will send for you, should we require you again.”

  Eitenne did not need told twice. He scrambled to his feet and raced out of the room.

  “I believe, Astrid, that this has become a hunt.” Asher smiled and offered me his hand. “Shall we, then?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I don't suppose you have any sort of torch or one of the Morgan's clever illumination devices?”

  “I am afraid not, but I believe we may have a solution.” I plucked a small, gas lantern from a battered, scratched worktable near the back of the slapdash laboratory. Its light was faint, but it illuminated the galley below, which was tall enough for a man to walk upright and appeared to extend quite beyond the reach of the flickering light. “You may do the honours, Ash.”

  He grinned at me and lowered himself into the galley whilst I held the lantern aloft to light his safe landing. He stood upright and squinted into the darkness. “I cannot see far. Come down, will you?” He lifted his arms to catch me around the waist and assist me to the galley floor.

  When I was safely beside him, I smiled broadly. “Well, this is most intriguing, isn't it?”

  “Indeed. Shall we see if our villainous ringmaster is lurking abou
t?”

  “I would like nothing more.”

  “Astrid.”

  I glanced at him in the feeble lantern light. He was not looking at me. Instead, his attention was directed upwards, towards the ceiling. He snatched the lantern from my hand and lifted it. Above our heads, a vast array of fine, delicate clockwork gears shone faintly gold in the pale flame. They were motionless for the moment but they seemed to give off a strange, pallid sort of glow, as though the residue of the energies and emotions stored above still flowed through them.

  The structure seemed to go on endlessly through the passage, beneath the main floor above without any discernible beginning or end. If there was a mechanism to start or stop the machine, I could not tell what it might be.

  “Amazing,” Asher murmured.

  “Indeed. Perhaps Xander will have some insight into how it works. He will, at the very least, be quite beside himself with fascination.”

  “Elodie's flute must be the remote trigger mechanism somehow.”

  “I am quite baffled as to the specifics of the apparatus. It is, I must admit, beyond me.”

  “And me. It is of little concern, at the moment, inactive as it is. Come. Let us find Flaire before this ship goes to port and we lose him forever. Who knows how long he can remain hidden in the secret chambers of this extraordinary ship?”

  We moved cautiously through the passage, which wound and dipped unpredictably. The ground beneath our feet swayed and rocked, as though colliding occasionally with the clouds. It was eerily quiet but now and again noise could be heard above our heads as we moved beneath an occupied room. They were soft noises, the tramp of feet on