There was a crash from the street, and the sound of screaming. She turned to look at the window. Some sort of huge wind was blowing the smog outside into long grey veils, ripping through the sky like claws.
‘As?’ Kai asked. He came to his feet in a single neat bound, assuming a smooth attitude of superiority and lack of distraction.
‘Imminent disaster takes priority over on-the-job testing,’ Irene said. ‘Let’s see what’s going on out there.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Kai made it down the stairs and outside first, and promptly stopped dead, face turned up to gawk at the sky like everyone else in the street. Irene, a step behind, looked up as well.
Five zeppelins hung in the foggy sky, their propellers cutting through the clouds. While all displayed the same dark blue and red livery, one was much larger than the vessels that had taken up positions around it. This particular zeppelin trailed glittering, somewhat tawdry, gold streamers, and flaunted a coat of arms on its side.
Irene strained her eyes, but she couldn’t make it out. ‘Kai,’ she muttered, ‘can you see the design painted on that airship?’
Kai raised his hand to shield his eyes, and squinted. ‘There’s an eagle top left, in black and white on gold. Top right is a green crown on diagonal black and gold stripes. Bottom left is a vertically divided shield in red and white. And bottom right is some sort of harpy, again in black and white on gold. A hunting horn is right at the very bottom, with a horizontally divided shield in red and gold in the middle.’
Irene frowned, trying to remember her heraldry. She’d been to a few places where it had been important, but surely something that crowded would have stuck in her mind . . . oh, wait, that was it. ‘It sounds,’ she said slowly, ‘like Liechtenstein.’
‘I thought that didn’t exist,’ Kai said blankly.
‘Course it does!’ a newspaper-seller scolded. He was perched on a battered stool next to his newspapers and a dramatic board that declared – MURDERER STALKS LONDON. ‘Best zeppelin-builders in the world, ain’t they?’
‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Irene said. ‘My friend’s from Canada and he doesn’t know much about Europe.’
‘Oh. Oh well, then.’ The old man nodded as if it made perfect sense. ‘Wanna buy a paper, love? Got all the news on the horrible murder of Lord Wyndham.’
‘Pay the man, Kai,’ Irene directed, and picked up one of the papers. It was thin, coarse paper, with thick black ink that threatened to come off on her gloves.
Kai handed over a few of Dominic’s coins. ‘Have they made an arrest yet?’ he asked.
‘Naaah.’ The old man leaned forward and tapped the side of his nose, glancing at the zeppelins. ‘But you know what they say?’
‘That the Liechtensteinians were involved?’ Irene guessed, pointing with the rolled-up paper at the zeppelins above.
‘Well. I mean. Makes sense, dunnit. What with them turning up like this so soon after that lord died, and all. And they do say that their Ambassador was Lord Wyndham’s friend. Very personal friend, if you take my meaning.’ The old man winked. ‘And they’re saying as how he was also his arch-rival and that they were,’ he paused to check the front page of his newspaper, ‘constantly intriguing against each other in the most diabolical manner.’
‘Is the Ambassador a vampire too?’ Irene asked. It would be totally inappropriate of her to use Kai as bait, if the Ambassador’s tastes ran that way. That was the sort of thing Bradamant would do, she reminded herself.
‘Naaah. Where’ve you been spending your time, love? Nah, he’s one of them Fair Folk, see. Always has to have artists draw his picture in the papers, ’cause none of them cameras will work on him, not even the stuff them geniuses make.’
‘Fair Folk,’ Irene said, a cold feeling gripping the pit of her stomach. This was bad news.