- Home
- Andrea Cremer
The Turncoat's Gambit
The Turncoat's Gambit Read online
ALSO BY ANDREA CREMER
The Inventor’s Secret
The Conjurer’s Riddle
The Nightshade Series
Rift
Rise
Nightshade
Wolfsbane
Bloodrose
Snakeroot
Invisibility (with David Levithan)
PHILOMEL BOOKS
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014
Copyright © 2016 by Seven Crows Inc.
Map illustration © 2014 by Rodica Prato.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
Philomel Books is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Cremer, Andrea R., author. | Title: The turncoat’s gambit / Andrea Cremer. | Description: New York, NY: Philomel Books, [2016] | Sequel to: The conjurer’s riddle. | Summary: “In an alternate nineteenth-century America, Charlotte is on the run from both the empire and the revolution. Now she must figure out whom she trusts, once and for all”—Provided by publisher. | Identifiers: LCCN 2016003127 | ISBN 9780399164255 (hardback) | Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Voyages and travels—Fiction. | Classification: LCC PZ7.C86385 Tu 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 | LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016003127
Ebook ISBN: 9780698175143
Edited by Jill Santopolo.
Version_1
In honor of John Santopolo
Contents
Also by Andrea Cremer
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
In a revolution, as in a novel, the most difficult part to invent is the end.
Alexis de Tocqueville
1.
COMMODORE COE WINTER unbuttoned his stiff officer’s jacket while his mind soured on the knowledge that he’d misjudged a situation and that his mistake would be costly. Perhaps too costly. He shrugged the jacket from his shoulders and would have tossed the garment onto the bed, but then thought better of it. With a measure of care, Coe laid the jacket over the back of a chair. In the Floating City, whether at the House of Winter or his officer’s quarters on the Military Platform, a valet would have collected any of Coe’s cast-off clothing, making sure to clean, fold, and press all pieces of the commodore’s wardrobe so they would be ready when needed again.
The spare room Coe occupied in the Daedalus Tower offered no such luxuries. Coe’s quarters bore no ornamentation. A serviceable but plain desk sat opposite an equally serviceable and equally plain bed. The room had no windows, and the reek of iron seeped into all things in any way permeable. More than once, Coe had had to stop himself from crinkling his nose while in New Orleans when he realized the stagnant, metallic odor clung to his clothing, accompanying him wherever he went.
For a commanding officer of the Imperial Air Force, being cooped up in an iron fortress proved a particularly agonizing torment. Necessity had brought Commodore Winter to New Orleans, but not a day passed without Coe wishing his fate might somehow have kept him in the Floating City or at least aboard one of the great Imperial warships that patrolled the skies.
Only a little while longer, and things will change. Coe hardly found comfort in the thought, considering that his own folly had without a doubt prolonged his stay in the French colonial city. But nothing could change that now. It was time to move forward, adjusting his strategy in accordance with recent, unfortunate developments.
Coe didn’t relish relating this latest information to his superiors, but there was no helping that either. He went to the desk and bent over a long narrow strip of paper. Taking up a pen, Coe dipped the metal nib into an inkwell and set to writing his message, in cipher, of course.
2.
NEVER BEFORE HAD Charlotte experienced a terror of heights, but as the Perseus forsook the waves for the clouds, she wondered if she might not succumb to such a fear. The ship continued its ascent, leaping into the heavens as the churning seas below grew distant. Charlotte glanced at Jack and took comfort in seeing his face was a mask of astonishment that matched her own. He was still holding her, and Charlotte thought to move away and make an attempt to get her bearings but instead grabbed his shirtsleeve when a long, loud metallic groan made the deck shudder beneath them, as if some massive beast had been roused from slumber and now moved restlessly belowdeck. The sound and its accompanying vibrations continued, taking on a steady rhythm that transformed the startling noise into something familiar.
“Engines,” Charlotte breathed.
Jack stirred beside her. “I’ve heard tales of pirate ships that could take flight to outrun the Imperial Navy, but by Hephaestus, I never believed it.”
“The Perseus is only one of less than a dozen that have such a capability. And you should be glad it wasn’t just a tall tale.” Linnet moved into a crouch, grasping the deck rail. “Else we’d be drowning at the base of that maelstrom.”
Charlotte became more at ease with the knowledge that an engine churned beneath her, even more so when the Perseus began to level off, gliding alongside low, bulbous clouds that swirled in shades of silver, gray, and white.
Linnet stood, and Charlotte scrambled to her feet, accidentally knocking Jack aside in her hurry to right herself.
“Well, then,” Jack said, “the moment our lives aren’t in danger, you’re rid of me.”
“That’s not—” Charlotte began, but saw the mirth in his eyes; her lips went thin. “Do you really think now is the time for jesting?”
“It’s always a good time for jesting,” Jack replied. “If we worried about whether or not the time was right, we’d spend all our time dour and serious. Hardly a way to live.”
Charlotte looked to Linnet, expecting Jack’s sister to have an appropriate retort. Linnet’s attention, however, had been drawn to the ship’s aft, where the captain was shouting orders at his crew, all of whom wore harnesses hooked onto lengths of rope knotted to the ship’s sides. This arrangement allowed the sailors to attend their tasks without risking what would doubtless be a fatal
plunge from the deck.
With his men busy securing the water-vessel-turned-airship, Lachance shifted his attention to the trio of passengers near the Perseus’s prow. The pirate captain took the deck in long, swift strides. He had eyes only for Linnet, not bothering to spare even a glance at Charlotte or Jack.
“Are you unharmed, Linnet?” he asked.
The way Jean-Baptiste Lachance spoke Linnet’s name—and Charlotte felt rather certain this was the first and only time she’d heard him call Linnet by her given name—made Charlotte shiver. His voice remained quiet, but carried a depth that Charlotte innately knew was something rare and of raw beauty. It made her want to turn away, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene. Linnet and this near-stranger, standing face-to-face, having just outrun death.
“Tell me.” Lachance reached for Linnet, but stopped his outstretched hand before he touched her.
Linnet’s mouth quirked in a strange way, somehow conjuring both regret and delight. With a sigh, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Lachance’s neck. He went still, waiting for her to move rather than responding to her action. Linnet lifted onto the balls of her feet and put one hand on the base of his neck. She pulled his head down until his face was only a breath’s distance from hers. She paused then, looking into his eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.
Linnet sighed again. “Athene have mercy on me.”
She kissed him.
Charlotte did turn away then, pivoting around with cheeks burning as if the couple before her had burst into flames and seared her skin.
Beside her, Jack snickered. “Of course Linnet would fall for a pirate.”
Without thinking, Charlotte balled her hand into a fist.
Jack looked at her, his mouth quirked as if expecting her to share in his mockery.
The sound of her fist meeting his jaw was even more satisfying than she’d expected. The blow sent Jack staggering backward several steps.
“I appreciate your defending my honor, kitten.” Linnet kept her arms wrapped around Lachance’s shoulders, though her face was turned toward Charlotte. “But my brother can’t always control his doltishness.”
“That should be taken into consideration, I suppose.” Charlotte smiled at Linnet.
Jack rubbed his face, glowering at both girls.
“Whatever ill thoughts you’re harboring, you must remember that you brought your current sorrows upon yourself.” Charlotte tried to keep her tone solemn, but a fit of giggles bubbled up. Soon she was doubled over, eyes watering and laughter stealing her breath.
Linnet stepped away from the pirate captain and encircled Charlotte’s waist with one arm, holding her steady.
“All is well now, Charlotte,” Linnet murmured, recognizing the increasingly hysteric pitch of Charlotte’s gasps. “All is well.”
Charlotte leaned into Linnet. The laughter that had taken control of her was a much needed release, purging fear from her body to let relief flood in. When the torrent had passed, Charlotte wiped her eyes as she straightened.
“Thank you.” She kissed Linnet’s cheek.
Confident that Charlotte was no longer in danger of tipping over, Linnet released the other girl’s waist and said, “Of course.”
Lachance had been watching them, his expression mostly bemused, but Charlotte saw a hardness behind his gaze.
“Thank you,” Charlotte said to the pirate. “You saved our lives. That was incredible.”
The iron quality in Lachance’s eyes suffused the smile he gave her. “I’m quite happy that we all survived that ordeal. But believe me when I tell you I would have mourned for my ship longer than for you. I may not have mourned you at all, given that some deceit on your part brought disaster upon us.”
Charlotte stayed quiet. She couldn’t fault Lachance for his anger. They had put him, his crew, and the Perseus in terrible danger and hadn’t given any warning that such an episode might transpire. Then again, how could Charlotte or Linnet have known? How had the Imperial Navy found them?
“Let her be.” Linnet broke the heavy silence. “If you’re going to blame someone, blame me. I engaged your services.”
Lachance turned his droll smile on Linnet. “Blame is a waste of time. What I need are answers, and I’ll get them from whomever I must. It is very clear that this contract of ours has drawn me into some troublesome business. If you keep the truth from me, I have no way of avoiding another unpleasant encounter with the Empire.”
“Agreed,” Linnet said. “No more secrets.”
She glanced at Charlotte as if anticipating an objection, but Charlotte quickly nodded. Though a pirate, Lachance had proven himself an ally. Allies couldn’t be wasted.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Jack muttered.
They ignored him.
“My cabin,” Lachance said, and left them.
Linnet began to follow, but Charlotte caught her by the elbow.
“I have to see about Grave and Meg,” Charlotte told her. “They’ve been belowdeck through this whole ordeal.”
“Of course,” said Linnet. “Come to Lachance’s quarters when you can. Bring them both.”
Charlotte nodded. She left Linnet’s side, but gained Jack as a shadow.
“You’re not going to apologize for hitting me, are you?” Jack said.
“An apology is warranted only when one regrets one’s actions,” Charlotte replied. “I don’t regret hitting you.”
“I regret that you hit me,” Jack said. “My jaw still hurts.”
“Then maybe you should apologize for acting like—as Linnet said—a dolt.”
They’d reached the stairs that led belowdeck. Charlotte stopped, turning to face Jack.
Jack hooked his thumbs around the fastenings of his suspenders. “It was a joke.”
“Somewhat,” Charlotte told him.
“I’m sorry?”
“You were making a bit of a jest,” Charlotte replied. “But your words were mean-spirited, and you continue to hold an ill will toward Linnet, despite all she’s done for us.”
Jack’s shoulders hunched in anger. “You don’t understand. You never could.”
“I understand that your father treated your mother poorly.” Charlotte kept her voice calm. “I understand that because you love her, you wanted to take away the heartache she felt.”
Jack shifted his gaze away from her.
“Linnet did nothing to cause your mother pain,” Charlotte continued. “Yet you refuse to stop treating her as though she was the source of all your family’s sorrows.”
When Jack didn’t respond, Charlotte took his hand in a gentle grasp. “I have no right to tell you not to be angry, but I will tell you that you must direct your fury where it belongs—at your father, or the Empire even. But Linnet is your sister and your friend. It’s time for you to accept that.”
“I can’t—” Jack’s voice cracked a bit. He drew a long breath. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” Charlotte squeezed his fingers. “I’m glad you’re here, Jack.”
He finally showed the hint of a smile. “I’m glad Lachance didn’t keelhaul me.”
“Don’t be too relieved,” Charlotte replied with a soft laugh. “He still might.”
She started down the stairs, and Jack followed.
“You don’t need to follow me,” Charlotte said, glancing at him.
Jack offered a smile that managed to be sheepish and wolfish at once. Something Charlotte suspected only Jack could pull off.
“I’m not following you,” he said. “I just want to be with you. Near you. There hasn’t been enough of that.”
She hesitated on the stairs, watching him.
“Do you disagree?” he asked. Any tentativeness in his expression had melted.
“No,” Charlotte said, enjoying the gentle t
ingle in her limbs as she answered. “I think you’re quite right about that.”
“Glad to hear it,” Jack said. “After you, my dear Lady Marshall.”
He bowed, making Charlotte laugh and shake her head at his antics before she continued belowdeck. They shouldered past sailors busy cleaning up after the rough seas and skies the Perseus had endured—a job Charlotte didn’t envy, but the pirates scrubbed and swabbed without complaint.
Meg and Grave were seated on one of the lower bunks in their small cabin; they both stood up when Charlotte and Jack entered the room. Meg crossed to Charlotte, catching her in a fierce embrace. She hugged Jack as well.
“Merciful Athene, it’s good to see you both,” Meg said quietly. “Is Linnet well?”
“Yes,” Charlotte said. “Captain Sang d’Acier acted true to his name. He saved us with a feat I still have a hard time believing truly happened.”
“We are airborne, then?” Meg asked. “I felt the ship rise, heard the engines, but I can’t imagine . . . I’ve never seen a sea vessel take to the air.”
Charlotte nodded, then looked to Grave, who was still standing in silence alongside the bunk.
“Are you well, Grave?”
“Yes,” Grave replied. “I wanted to come to the deck and make sure you were safe, but Meg said we had to stay here. That you would come for us when the time was right. I thought you would want me to listen to her.”
“I do,” Charlotte said. “It’s good that you were in the cabin. The situation above was terribly dangerous. I’ll admit I was acting foolishly when I insisted on staying in the open.”
“I told you,” Jack muttered.
“But that’s why I wanted to leave here.” Grave frowned. “When you’re in danger, I should be with you, to protect you.”
Charlotte didn’t know what to say. Grave’s strength did make him capable of taking on many adversaries, but Charlotte felt it was she who had to protect him. Should she try to make him understand?
“It’s good that you care for Charlotte’s safety, Grave,” Meg interjected.