Heart of Iron - Ekaterina Sedia [126]
“Exactly!” I gave a quick sideways look to Nightingale. “If we have Jack on our side, the loss of one ship won’t matter.”
“I know there will be a war sooner or later,” Chiang Tse said, and looked at Jack with new appreciation. “I suppose he would be valuable.” He then turned to Nightingale. “Will you trade with us? That man for the airship. We’ll even provide an engineer to fly it.”
The English muttered among themselves.
“You won’t be in trouble?” I whispered to Chiang Tse.
He shrugged. “These things have a way of sorting themselves out.” He winked at me, amused at something I was missing.
Nightingale turned away from me for the first time since we got there, and consulted in lowered voice with her contingent. Her mind must have already been made up, for she didn’t pay attention to Jack, and he hobbled toward me.
“Jack,” I started.
He shook his head—rather wobbled it side to side, which was as much movement as his stocks allowed. “We’ll talk later,” he said. “I’m just glad to see that you are alive and well.”
“You too,” I said. “I wish they had not kept you in these wooden blocks.”
“Well, they bloody well had to, didn’t they?”
“You probably do not remember me,” Chiang Tse cut in.
“I do,” Jack said. “You are welcome.”
I could not believe that I had persuaded Chiang Tse to give up the airship—a beautiful, powerful machine—to his enemies. And yet, I couldn’t see another way; I only wished I would have the same clarity of vision every day of my life, the same ability to see through the conjecture and the imagined complications we tended to pile on top of everything, to see right to the heart of the matter: there was a man we both owed our lives to, and something we could trade for his salvation. It wasn’t even a difficult choice once you looked at it that way—and I was glad that Chiang Tse was able to see it my way.
I brushed an unbidden tear from my eyelashes. “I guess I better go to the airship and get my aunt and her things. Does anyone know when the next train arrives?”
“You’re close enough to Moscow,” Dame Nightingale said. “There is a train every hour or so. And do send your people to fetch the rest of your belongings from the ship—we are not thieves, we just want the airship.”
“You’re accepting our offer then?” Chiang Tse said.
“Of course. You didn’t think that he—” she gave another head toss in Jack’s direction—“is important, did you?”
“Of course he is,” I said. “He’s important to you, enough to chase him all the way to Siberia.”
Chiang Tse pulled on my sleeve. “Sasha,” he said mildly. “Let’s not prolong the pointless argument.”
“I am sorry,” I said to her. “We appreciate your willingness to negotiate.”
“I hope your engineer doesn’t mind taking us to St. Petersburg and then London,” she said. “It seems like the emperor has had quite a change of heart, and I fear that soon we won’t be welcome at his court.”
“Of course,” said Chiang Tse. “Wherever you have to go.”
I bit my tongue, said nothing, only nodded. “Do you have the key for those stocks?”
Nightingale tossed the jangling knot of keys to me. I fumbled the catch, and they sunk into the snow by my feet. I dropped to my knees, my reddened, clawed hands digging in the snow. Who knew how deep the snow was, how far those keys had fallen? I had my arms up to my shoulder in snow, when I heard Nightingale’s abrupt laugh. My fingers touched the steel and I drew a gigantic breath of relief.
“Don’t let him out until we’re gone,” she said. “And forgive us for not waiting.”
By the time I pulled the keys out of the snow, the steam of the airship had grown to two forceful streams. Aunt Eugenia and the rest of our companions had disembarked with speed that precluded dignity—I saw a man tumble in the snow, and recognized the engineer, Tang Wei.
I turned to Chiang Tse. “But he . . . ”
“We sent a different engineer,” Chiang Tse said as the English turned their backs on us in their hurry to get aboard.
I scanned the faces of the small crowd—my aunt, the diplomats, the crew . . . Kuan Yu was conspicuously missing, and I finally understood.