Her head still pounded, but the coffee seemed to be easing the pain a bit.
She listened to the airship for a moment and heard the faint whine of the fans.
“Any trouble with the coils during their use this morning?” she asked.
“None,” said the twins, together. “Mr. Mug said to tell you they aren’t showing any problems.” Kervis lowered his voice to a whisper. “He also said Tower needed to speak with you, after you were rested.”
Meralda held her cup close, letting the heat and aroma bathe her face. “Thank you both,” she said. “No sightings of any sea creatures?”
“None,” they replied. “We’ve had spyglasses on the water all morning. Haven’t seen a thing.”
“Good. Thank you. I should get dressed.”
The Bellringers nodded and made for the door.
“Thank you for my breakfast. And could you please find Mug? Keep an eye on him, and if you see a riot about to break out, bring him bodily back here.”
“Yes ma’am.” Kervis grinned as he closed Meralda’s door.
Meralda finished her coffee and then slumped down against her desk, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t see her wild, tangled hair reflected in Goboy’s Glass. “I should tap the glass and call on Tower,” she muttered. “No. I’m going to bathe. Perhaps a good hot bath and some lunch will help drive this awful headache away.”
She stood, the motion leaving her briefly light-headed, and then she made her way to her cabin’s tiny water closet and its even tinier tub, which Mug had compared, not unreasonably, to a hat box. Meralda wasn’t too concerned about its size, especially since it was a luxury not afforded to every passenger on the Intrepid .
She closed the water closet door behind her.
On her desk, the silver plate bearing two whole donuts and a half-eaten third one shimmered briefly. When the shimmering faded, the plate remained, but was filled with a chicken leg, a scoop of mashed potatoes, a heap of steaming green beans, and a dollop of bright yellow creamed corn, topped with a melting pat of fresh-churned butter.
A pair of ragged shadows fell from two corners of the ceiling, becoming enormous crows before they landed, flapping and stepping, on either side of the steaming plate of food.
As I surmised, said one.
Aye, said the other. Should we tell her? What would Master have us do?
We say nothing, said the first . She must find her own truth.
That way is fraught with peril. She may not survive it.
If she be worthy, she will prevail. The crow flapped his folded wings in a corvine shrug and pecked at the corn .
By the time Meralda emerged from her bath, the corn was gone, and so were the crows.
“Bless you, Bellringers,” she said as she seated herself, unwrapped the fork and spoon from the napkin, and began to eat. She did notice that one area of the plate was suspiciously empty, but considering she missed the normal meal service she felt lucky to have anything at all.
Later, while finishing the last of the coffee, Meralda selected a white blouse trimmed with lace ruffles, a narrow black skirt and her shiny new Fleet Street boots, which hadn’t seen the outside of the box since she’d brought them home last spring.
Her head was nearly clear by the time she seated herself and chose a hat for the day. She decided on her cheery white and red Phendelit day hat, with its splash of lacy trim. A knock sounded at her door, interrupting her dressing.
“Open up, police,” cried a gruff voice.
Meralda laughed and rose. She could hear the faint hum of Mug’s flying coils.
The dandyleaf plant sailed inside, circling the cabin once before settling expertly atop Meralda’s desk.
“I take it you are feeling better.” His eyes regarded Meralda intently. “Glad to see you up and not moaning.”
“I needed the rest. Thank you for letting me sleep. Any news?”
“I’m a better poker player than anyone aboard,” Mug reported happily. “Other than that, we are engaged in normal level flight, we are on
She listened to the airship for a moment and heard the faint whine of the fans.
“Any trouble with the coils during their use this morning?” she asked.
“None,” said the twins, together. “Mr. Mug said to tell you they aren’t showing any problems.” Kervis lowered his voice to a whisper. “He also said Tower needed to speak with you, after you were rested.”
Meralda held her cup close, letting the heat and aroma bathe her face. “Thank you both,” she said. “No sightings of any sea creatures?”
“None,” they replied. “We’ve had spyglasses on the water all morning. Haven’t seen a thing.”
“Good. Thank you. I should get dressed.”
The Bellringers nodded and made for the door.
“Thank you for my breakfast. And could you please find Mug? Keep an eye on him, and if you see a riot about to break out, bring him bodily back here.”
“Yes ma’am.” Kervis grinned as he closed Meralda’s door.
Meralda finished her coffee and then slumped down against her desk, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t see her wild, tangled hair reflected in Goboy’s Glass. “I should tap the glass and call on Tower,” she muttered. “No. I’m going to bathe. Perhaps a good hot bath and some lunch will help drive this awful headache away.”
She stood, the motion leaving her briefly light-headed, and then she made her way to her cabin’s tiny water closet and its even tinier tub, which Mug had compared, not unreasonably, to a hat box. Meralda wasn’t too concerned about its size, especially since it was a luxury not afforded to every passenger on the Intrepid .
She closed the water closet door behind her.
On her desk, the silver plate bearing two whole donuts and a half-eaten third one shimmered briefly. When the shimmering faded, the plate remained, but was filled with a chicken leg, a scoop of mashed potatoes, a heap of steaming green beans, and a dollop of bright yellow creamed corn, topped with a melting pat of fresh-churned butter.
A pair of ragged shadows fell from two corners of the ceiling, becoming enormous crows before they landed, flapping and stepping, on either side of the steaming plate of food.
As I surmised, said one.
Aye, said the other. Should we tell her? What would Master have us do?
We say nothing, said the first . She must find her own truth.
That way is fraught with peril. She may not survive it.
If she be worthy, she will prevail. The crow flapped his folded wings in a corvine shrug and pecked at the corn .
By the time Meralda emerged from her bath, the corn was gone, and so were the crows.
“Bless you, Bellringers,” she said as she seated herself, unwrapped the fork and spoon from the napkin, and began to eat. She did notice that one area of the plate was suspiciously empty, but considering she missed the normal meal service she felt lucky to have anything at all.
Later, while finishing the last of the coffee, Meralda selected a white blouse trimmed with lace ruffles, a narrow black skirt and her shiny new Fleet Street boots, which hadn’t seen the outside of the box since she’d brought them home last spring.
Her head was nearly clear by the time she seated herself and chose a hat for the day. She decided on her cheery white and red Phendelit day hat, with its splash of lacy trim. A knock sounded at her door, interrupting her dressing.
“Open up, police,” cried a gruff voice.
Meralda laughed and rose. She could hear the faint hum of Mug’s flying coils.
The dandyleaf plant sailed inside, circling the cabin once before settling expertly atop Meralda’s desk.
“I take it you are feeling better.” His eyes regarded Meralda intently. “Glad to see you up and not moaning.”
“I needed the rest. Thank you for letting me sleep. Any news?”
“I’m a better poker player than anyone aboard,” Mug reported happily. “Other than that, we are engaged in normal level flight, we are on
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