The Island of Birds Read online

  Katy’s eyes narrowed. “What are you…?” But she never finished the sentence.

  Annabel jumped up, almost knocking her seat over. She grabbed Katy’s wrist and tugged her, not unkindly but with decisive force, onto the stool. “You can play this thing,” she said, placing the maid’s hands on the keyboard. “So play! I’ll be back before supper.”

  “What do you mean you’ll be back before supper? Wherever are you going?”

  “Play! Play, Katy, and keep playing until half-past three.” Annabel was at the Music Room door and had her hand on the handle. Katy was too shocked to speak. She sat as if frozen, her hands hovering above the keyboard like an automaton whose mechanism had unwound in mid-performance. “I command you!” Annabel said. “Play!”

  Katy thumped out a melody. “Good!” Annabel said. “Just keep playing – you won’t want the Regent coming up here and finding you have lost your royal charge, will you?”

  “Your Highness!” protested the maid over the sound of the music she hammered out. “Oh, Annabel, you can’t just leave!” But it was too late. Annabel wasn’t listening anymore.

  As she walked out into the corridor and closed the door behind her, the two guards jumped up from their chairs and stood to attention. “At ease,” Annabel said. “I shall be but a moment.”

  “Forgive me, Your Highness,” one of the men said. “I must ask you to inform me where you are going.”

  “If you must know, soldier,” Annabel said pushing her face closer to the guard’s, “I am going to the closet.” The soldier blushed. She could practically feel the heat radiating from him. She stepped back, her chin in the air. “Do you object?”

  The guard shook his head, muted by embarrassment.

  She had escaped. Annabel ran as lightly as she could in the elaborate and cumbersome dress along the hall toward the sweeping staircase at the other end.

  She lifted her skirts and climbed the staircase in quick, hurrying steps.

  When she arrived at the door to her dressing chamber, she slipped inside and locked it behind her. Two young maids were sitting by the window working at needlepoint. As Annabel rushed in they stood, setting the work aside, and curtsied.

  “Quickly!” she said. “Get me out of these wretched clothes and bring me my hunting gear and a cloak. Make sure it has a hood, too. Well come on, you understand what I’m saying don’t you? Look lively.”

  These maids at least knew better than to question her authority. While they set about unbuttoning her dress and unlacing the corset beneath, Annabel looked below, beyond the window to the city. I know just who will tell me what’s going on, if anyone will.

  Annabel pushed past the rough-looking fellows at the gate, muttering something about running an errand for the Royal Cook, and stepped into the street.

  Getting out the palace unrecognized was easier than she’d imagined. Despite the constant war, security wasn’t tight. The population was happy and well fed; no one lacked for anything. She didn’t like war, but the wars were always conducted somewhere else. There was never any fighting on the island itself.

  She made her way along the street, winding away from the palace walls and into the heart of the city. She grinned. No-one expected her to leave the palace without an escort. If caught she’d be in serious trouble and might risk increased restrictions on her freedom. But she wouldn’t be away for long and what would be the worst that could happen?

  Annabel relaxed. I am the princess, she reminded herself. I don’t care what Cranestoft says. This is my island and I can do what I like and go where I want.

  Without a vicinity scope no citizen could have seen her very well. She was always on some stupid platform or balcony. Yes, there were stamps and portraits, and she smiled from the front of every banknote; but the images were out-of-date and so stylized they were unrecognizable as the girl she saw in the mirror. Still, she kept the hood up to shadow her face, just in case.

  Further from the palace, her excitement at sneaking out waned. As she relaxed, urgency gave way to curiosity.

  She had left the Music Room eager to find out what had happened to the alien flying machine – and to the young woman and the monkey she’d seen on the deck. A dark shadow cast over her mind. Are they dead – shot out of the sky? The thought made bile rise in the back of her throat. But why would Cranestoft order them to be killed? It made little sense. Whoever they were, that was no warship. It wasn’t even armed. Or at least not as far as she had seen.

  She hoped she would soon find out more. The streets were quiet, but there were a few people going about their business. Young ladies with parasols, carrying tiny clockwork songbirds in jeweled cages – which Annabel understood was the latest fashion – promenaded in the parks, linking arms with their beaus as their chaperones stalked behind them. A few young men loitered by a fountain, smoking cigars. Children played hoop and hopscotch in the street, running away laughing every time a clacking clockwork carriage rattled along. Old men lingered outside cafes, dealing cards and drinking brandy.

  Annabel lifted her pocket watch from her jacket and checked the time. She had two hours; enough to do what she wanted to do, if she could remember the way.

  It had been many years ago – she must have been, what? Not much over eight years old when her father had taken her out on “undercover missions” as he called them. He had shown her that despite the cleanliness and order of the island and the law-abiding qualities of her people, there were others like him who entertained a passion for scientosophical study.

  They were few, it was true, and she didn’t know them all. They met rarely and always in secret. Her father had told her they didn’t even know each other’s names, mostly. She still didn’t understand how it could have been that her dad, himself the reigning monarch, was so much at the mercy of the laws of his own land. Or that those laws were in place.

  She understood her father had not been interested in politics and had much preferred to leave the running of things to his Court Advisors. When her mother died, he’d retreated more and more into his studies, spending increasing amounts of time buried in his books or twiddling with one invention or another.

  But he’d been an intelligent man. A scientosophist. He’d taught her everything she knew about the laws and processes of the Natural Order and how they might be explored, understood and manipulated to create marvelous effects. There was so much more to be had than simple clockwork. She shook her head. It made little sense he could have allowed scientosophy to stay outlawed. She supposed even the cleverest man might not be wise. Gritting her teeth, ignoring the heavy lump of leaden grief weighing down her heart, she pushed ahead.

  Her father was dead. There was just nothing to be done about that. Although she was convinced methods to raise the dead could be devised. Perhaps not now, perhaps not in her lifetime; but it could be done with enough mastery and manipulation of the vital forces. That mastery would never come while scientosophy was still forbidden. But that would all change. Oh, yes – just as soon as she was Queen. And every day brought her closer to power.

  The first thing I’ll do is dismiss that monster, Cranestoft. I’ll have him consigned to a minor secretarial role. The idea pleased her, and she smiled.

  A clockwork rooster, one of the larger models – nine feet high at the shoulder – clanked along the street ahead of her, a city guard mounted on its back. Her heart thumped. Stay calm, she thought. There’s no reason anyone should look for me. Still less, the city guard.

  Pulled back from her thoughts, she stepped aside to let the machine pass. The guard didn’t even look at her. His eyes were on the sky. The mechanical bird whirred and clicked, steel talons scraping the cobbled street as it passed. Annabel smelled metal polish and oil.

  She’d been so lost in thought she had barely noticed her surroundings, but once the rooster had clanked down the street and away, she looked up from her reverie. There were fewer pe
ople about in the streets; two gentlemen smoking cigars and laughing over a joke as they strolled; two older ladies walking arm in arm.

  It was the first time she had taken the path alone, but her instincts had served her well. Annabel recognized where she was. She quickened her step and, glancing both ways, turned away from the main street, under an elaborate archway which brought her into a high-walled courtyard. The yard was quiet and almost empty. Two young lovers entwined in each other’s embraces sat on the steps of the glittering fountain gracing the center of the space. Wrapped in each other, they didn’t appear to notice her presence.

  Annabel slipped across the pavement and up a sweep of wide steps to a mahogany door. In the masonry to the right, a communication tube sat clipped in its brass holder. She cranked the adjacent handle. A distant bell rang. She unhooked the tube and lifted it to her ear. A tinny sounding voice said, “Yes?”

  She transferred the tube to her mouth. “It’s me, Princess Annabel.”

  “Your Highness! Come in, come in!”

  Annabel smiled. She replaced the tube. A mechanism within the door clicked and the mahogany panels swung open. With a final glance to make sure she was unobserved, Annabel slipped inside the house.

  Dr. Ravensberg bowed, ushering Annabel into his laboratory, and bade her take a seat. She settled on the ottoman as the Doctor let his own rotund body fall into the armchair opposite her. The fire crackled in the hearth, despite the fair spring weather outside, and Annabel felt uncomfortably warm. The gentleman’s keen eyes watched her. He smiled.

  “It is rather hot, Your Highness. I need to keep the temperature up in the laboratory. It’s an experiment relating to the fermentation of excretions from the Amramathys mertingalia. It may have certain useful medical properties. Yes, a legal experiment, this one!”

  When Annabel didn’t respond, he crossed his legs. His brow furrowed. He folded his hands together on his knees. “I’m glad you are allowed out and about these days. Or have you come out in secret? Either way, not long until your ascendancy to the Throne – a day I for one cannot wait to see come to pass! So, tell me, how is life in the palace?”

  Annabel snorted. “Is there life in the palace?” she said.

  Dr. Ravensberg laughed. “Oh dear,” he said. “Like that is it? And your studies?”

  “I’m progressing well, although it’s strange to be working alone. I miss father dreadfully. But it’s safe enough. Cranestoft and his cronies don’t know about the laboratory. They only acknowledge my existence when they need me to perform public functions. The mechanequines in the stables gain more respect!”

  “Not long now, Your Highness. Take heart! And Cranestoft will soon get his just deserts. I was at college with him, you know. He was a decent enough fellow back then. But always ambitious, I suppose, and once he saw a chance to grab at power… Well, he is not the only man in history corrupted by that. But you have friends at Court as well as enemies, Your Highness. Once you are Queen, all shall be well.”

  “My birthday is so soon. I can hardly wait.”

  “I was impressed by your clockwork sparrow, Your Highness.”

  Annabel sat up straighter. “But how did you know it was mine?”

  The Doctor shrugged. “Let’s just say it had the hallmarks of your genius.”

  Annabel blushed. “You are too kind.”

  “But that is not why you came to see me, is it? What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

  Annabel leaned forward and licked her lips. “Did you see the flying machine?”

  “Yes. I also saw the ornithopters shoot it down.”

  “Shoot it down?” Annabel was on her feet, her hands wringing. “And those within it?”

  “I watched the debacle through a powerful vicinity scope. I have it on the roof. Your father’s design. I saw, or at least I believe I saw, I suppose I can’t be certain, that the ship crashed into the forest several miles away to the west.”

  “To the west? Into the Forbidden Territories?”

  “Yes. If they lived, our alien friends will be in great peril out there. There’s no human life beyond the walls of the city. No-one even hunts that far out. I don’t know if the authorities would pursue them further.”

  “Do you think there were any survivors?”

  “I couldn’t say. But I would add that it is not impossible. Tell me, if I may be so bold, what the Court have in mind regarding this incident? Once the ship was down, the ornithopters circled a few times and then returned to the palace. Whether they satisfied themselves they had killed the crew along with the ship, or for some other motive, I can’t tell.”

  “Ornithopters would not have been able to land in the forest, would they? And it was before the Parade and the Declaration. I suppose they may have sent out roosters afterwards to be sure. I can’t imagine Cranestoft being any less thorough. Or they may have assumed the crew would never survive out there. Do you know from where the craft came? What its purpose was?”

  “I cannot say. Except that it is not from the archipelago. Gaseous substances in the balloon-like structure suspend the machine, I am sure of that. It resembles the plans your father and I were working on. Quite a surprise to see the selfsame thing already built and in the skies! It would float through the Dark Sea over long distances. And it is propelled by steam engines – I saw the chimney stack. It was – or perhaps still is if we are to be hopeful – a scientosophical machine.”

  “Do you think it had something to do with the war?”

  Dr. Ravensberg shook his head. “No. Nothing to do with the war.” His face darkened. His eyes closed. When he opened them again, they were full of sorrow. “Your Highness, it is related to another matter of which I have only recently become aware. You are not the first unexpected visitor I have received this today. Another young woman came earlier this morning, while it was still dark. She was in a terrible state, her clothing ragged and dirty. She was afraid. And she conveyed some very disturbing news.”

  “You must tell me, Dr. Ravensberg. Tell me everything!”

  “If the things she told me are true, that ship may have been carrying a dreadful cargo.” The bell sounded. “Now who in the blazes can that be? Your Highness, forgive me. I must find out – if only for your own safety.”

  Annabel nodded her assent and remained seated as the Doctor rose from his armchair with some effort, bowed to her, and left the laboratory to answer the door.

  To what terrible cargo could Ravensberg have been referring? She couldn’t imagine. One of the key policies of the island’s administration was isolationism. No one came to the island and no one left. They didn’t want the islanders contaminated by disease from other parts of the archipelago. At least that was the official story. Still less, she thought, did they want them contaminated by ideas which might challenge their complacency. There was little trade as far as she knew. The nearest islands had been subdued by warfare over the years. The Island of Birds was small and independent, isolated, its population limited to the city, and self-sufficient.

  Raised voices sounded in the hallway. As they approached the laboratory, Dr. Ravensberg’s voice protested, “What a ludicrous accusation! The Princess, here? Without me knowing it? Are you out of your mind? This is a private house! Does a gentleman’s word count for nothing these days?”

  “We have a search warrant signed by the Lord Regent himself. I recommend you hold your tongue, sir, and let us do our work.”

  “Do you threaten me, young man?”

  Annabel’s skin prickled with dread. But I was sure no-one knew I had left the palace! For a moment, as a rabbit caught in torchlight, she froze with fear. Then, I have to get away!

  Her eyes cast about the laboratory. On the other side of the room was a small door, half-hidden behind the main workbench. She stood and skipped toward it as fast as she could.

  Dr. Ravensberg huffed and puffed, remonstrating with alm
ost theatrical bluster, trying to buy time she guessed, but the voices were just the other side of the door now.

  Annabel turned the handle of the little door. Her body flooded with relief as it clicked open. She slipped through and pulled it shut behind her. In the same instant the other door burst open and armored guards clanked into the laboratory.

  She was in a library. Another door led back out into the courtyard. The last thing she heard before she closed it behind her it was Dr. Ravensberg.

  “There, you see!” he was saying, only just disguising the relief in his voice. “No one here at all!”

  Heart pounding and filled with more questions now than answers, Annabel slipped into the shadows and headed back toward the palace.

  Chapter Four

  Harriet smashed through the canopy. The leather straps of her bat-wings dug into her shoulders. Snapped and torn by the branches, wood splintered as the wings ripped free of the pack. Tossed from limb to limb like a rag doll, Harriet landed with a thump on the forest floor, winded and bruised.

  She gasped, sucking at the humid air, blind with pain. For three minutes she lay still, not daring to move. I’m still alive at any rate.

  Face down in leaf mold, the acrid odor of decay assaulted her nostrils. As her breathing steadied, she rolled over and pushed herself upright. At least I ain’t broken no bones. Harriet spat dirt and leaves from her mouth. She wriggled free of the tattered backpack and shoved the broken device aside. Every muscle protesting, she forced herself to her feet.

  The forest was dense with thickets of leafy undergrowth. Flocks of squawking parrots flashed among the trees. A green haze hung in the air, warm and heady, scented with sap and fungi. But aside from the chattering birds above, a deep silence pervaded the forest. No breeze stirred the leaves. There was a heavy stillness, broken only by the crackling of the forest floor as hidden insects scuttled through the composting mast. Now where have me mates got to? I fell too fast to see what happened to them. I guess if I survived there’s a good chance they done as well. Wonder if there’s any chance o’ salvaging me ship? But that’ll have to wait. First priority is to find me crew.