The Kingmakers(112)

“Your Majesty,” he shouted to her over the wind. “We're across the Mediterranean and are over the French coast. Heading is north, as you commanded.”

“Take her up as high as she'll go, Captain.”

Hariri raised surprised eyebrows. “Very well, but bid farewell to fair skies and forgiving winds. The gales up there could shake us apart or blow us to Russia. The cold will freeze my men to the lines and turn the sails into sheets of ice. The air is so thin we'll be gasping for breath.”

“So you're afraid?”

“Afraid?” Without hesitation, Hariri barked the command to his first mate before returning his attention to her. “I just want you to know that it's going to be a bit uncomfortable for the next few days.”

“I appreciate the rigors your men will be facing on this voyage, Captain. But we have to fly high to avoid vampires and for speed. I haven't time to take the long route out into the Atlantic and up. Senator Clark made this same run to London last year.”

“Then so shall we,” the pirate said seriously. “I won't have that American doing something I can't.”

“Good. I've laid in plenty of extra clothing for the crew to ward off the extreme cold. See to it that it's distributed.”

“I assume this isn't a social call. There's a regiment's arsenal below as well. Are we off to save General Anhalt again?” He winked with a grin.

“Not this time.”

She tightened the soft folds of Greyfriar's scarf around her frigid cheeks and neck, relishing in the warmth and the trace of his scent. In return for this token, the night he left Alexandria, she had slipped a cheap penny dreadful of fairy tales in his pack for him to read and discard as needed. Hopefully it would distract him during his journey. She thought about him reading in the dark at the base of a tree in the wilds, and it satisfied her.

White clouds drifted lazily below them. It always seemed so peaceful when they were in the sky. The brig seemed to be moving so slowly even though every inch of sail was unfurled. Mamoru's assassin was weeks ahead of her, and the passage of time ate a hole in Adele's belly.

Edinburgh lifted in a marked surge, and Adele's hand gripped the rail as she bent her knees with the upward motion. The sharp hiss of gas could be heard above as the vessel's massive dirigible filled. The rush of clouds streamed past her while thick vapors left her face wet. Ice crystals formed on her cheeks as she stared into the sodium sky. Someone handed her a heavy coat and she took it gratefully. She glanced over.

“Captain Shirazi.”

The tall soldier bowed and then resumed his attentive position. His silence was deafening. Each frosty breath blatantly demonstrated his concern. She expected a rebuke, a snide comment, something. Instead, the captain's mouth was merely a stern line, and then finally came a polite request.

“Would Your Majesty care to relate her intentions for this mission?”

Adele swallowed. “I doubt you'd like the answer.”

“Yes, I'm sure I wouldn't.” He stared hard at her. “But regardless, I need to hear it.”

“Greyfriar is in danger.”

“Is that not a mission more logical to be in the hands of the Harmattan? We would defend Greyfriar with our lives, as we defend you.”

“Yes, I know,” Adele responded. She was taking a major gamble, and she had to tread carefully. General Anhalt had always been her confidant; she trusted him implicitly. However, she didn't truly know this man beside her, and she had too many secrets to share them openly. “When we have reached maximum safe altitude and are sailing north, come to me in my cabin. I will explain our mission then. It involves more than just a simple rescue. Bring Captain Hariri.”

She retreated to her cabin to figure out how to orchestrate the next few weeks and keep Gareth safe, not only from the assassin, but from her own men as well. The bed creaked as she sat down heavily.

Adele's head whirled with all the things that could go wrong. It would take only one slip to collapse the house of cards her world had become. Her gut twisted when she realized that every move or decision she made could shatter everything. She was balancing love and duty. She was playing with the impossible. The weight of that sunk onto her shoulders again. Her fingers pressed deep into her eyes as she rubbed them. “Just once, I wish something wouldn't be so dire.”

Her leather satchel was at the foot of the bed, and she dragged it over to retrieve her mother's journal. There hadn't been time to work on deciphering her mother's notes before her hurried departure from Alexandria, but she had been working on it since. Even on a fast ship traveling dangerously high, there would be many days of inactivity on a journey this long. Adele opened the book carefully and immediately felt a rush of old memories. Her mother's distinctive cursive writing stared back at her. In the margins were the strange scribbles and doodles that Sanah had said were a form of writing that could be translated into Persian. Adele again took out a sheet that her aunt had hastily prepared with a simple key to the code.