The street isn’t really busy, but as we begin our walk back to Gus’ cousin, all I can think of is the money in Gus’ pocket. I’m constantly swiveling my head this way and that, looking for anyone who might be staring at us for too long. Anyone who may be following us. We only go two blocks before I see them. Three men in clean black breeches and dressy jackets. They’re too fancy for this part of town. They walk no more than ten paces behind us, taking long, confident strides, talking and laughing amongst themselves. I turn back hastily when one of them makes eye contact. They remind me of the men that pulled me off the street at the beginning of all of this. The loud, blustery half-gentlemen that thought throwing street-rats to Ridgebacks was the height of amusement.

This isn’t good.

I grit out through my teeth, “Gus, we have company.”

His shoulders tense, but luckily he doesn’t turn around, “Who?” He says under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear, “what do they look like.”

“Dressed fancy,” I murmur back, “like the men working for the ringleader of our betting men.”

Gus curses quietly and quickens his stride, “we can’t lead them back to my cousin’s. He’ll have my hide if they trash the shop.”

                “Duck down a side road,” I dart a look past Gus and see Ellie is nodding. Good, she’s smart enough not to look back at them either.

“This road up here, on my count.”

We get closer and closer. A carriage turns the corner just ahead of us, wheels rumbling on the rough cobble stones. It will serve as cover for a mad dash.

“Three, two, one…”

We break for it almost in unison, and I can hear the startled cursing of the men behind us. Shoes slap on the stones behind us, but we have a good lead on them. My heart thunders wildly as the three of us duck behind the carriage and keep pace with it. The men are obscured from view for several seconds, and then the carriage comes to an abrupt halt as a matchstick girl runs across the narrow road, her bare feet dirty, trying to escape an irate customer.

I dash across the road in the gap in traffic this creates; Ellie and Gus close behind me, and barrel into the man chasing the little girl. He goes over with an angry howl. 

Now we’re in the thick of the Sunday market place. The smell hits me like a wall, making my head spin. The pungent smell of fish, mingled with strong spices and fresh bread. The vendors thrust vegetables and fruit at shoppers, calling out bargains. Even amongst the clamor of the market though, I can hear our pursuers yelling. They scream things like, “stop them” and “thief”, but they’re not in some hoity toity part of town anymore. Nobody lifts a finger to help them or try to stop us, and one grimy faced donkey cart driver even slows his cart down momentarily in front of them, producing a string of vile language from the three gentlemen.

I gasp out what I’ve been thinking ever since I spotted them, “they’re after the diamond.”

Gus makes a face at me, “that’s incredibly obvious.”

“That means that vile man in charge, whoever he is, sent them after us. That copper said something about the police being in on it too...”

“Less talk and more running,” Gus pants.

One of the men – the tall, thin one who wears his bowler hat jammed down over his eyes – is gaining on us. His long legs are an advantage, and he soon leaves his companions behind. I have to dodge a horse and cart, and feel him reach out one long arm and snag the fabric of the bloody ridiculous dress I’m wearing.

Whoever thought dresses were practical for women should be shot.

I yank myself free, but the movement distracts me, and something slams into my shoulder with bone-crushing force. I find myself on the cobble stones on my knees, clutching my shoulder as pain lances down my arm.

Gus spins around, eyes wide with alarm, hands stretched out to help me up, but the man is suddenly on top of me, steel flashing in his hand. He’s got a wicked looking knife pointed at me,

                “I’ll have that diamond now,” he pants out, “the count is missing it dearly.”

                “He’s a count?” I snap, “Then he can’t be missing it too bad. He must be loaded.”

                The man sneers at me, then darts a look over his shoulder at Gus, who's attempting to creep up behind him, “Don’t consider it lad, I’ll stab her if I have to.” He glances back down at me, “though the count would prefer you in one piece when I bring you back. He could use an anti-mage.”

                “No thank you,” I growl.

                His face darkens. When I peer over his shoulder I can see his companions closing in. I’ve only got seconds to act and then fighting our way out of this becomes much harder.

                “You haven’t got any weapons,” the man says, “so you might as well just give over the diamond and follow me like a good girl.”

                I hold up one hand cautiously, “I’ll get it. It’s in my sock.” The blatant lie burns my throat, since I can feel the heavy diamond weighing down the chain around my neck. He only nods though, so I reach under the layers of the dress, one hand groping around my foot for show, the other reach up my thigh. The sword slides loose of the ribbon,

“You know what your problem is?” I say calmly, and he motions impatiently with the dagger in his hand.

 “...you only brought a sissy dagger…”

 I whip the sword out from under my skirts and slam the blade onto his dagger with a sharp clash of steel. The dagger goes flying out of his hand and skitters across the cobble stones. The man screams as Gus suddenly grabs a handful of his jacket and yanks him backwards, sticking his foot behind the man’s legs so he pitches over backwards.

                “Time to go,” Gus yells, and I haul myself off the ground as quickly as I can, trying to ignore the throbbing in my shoulder.

                Then we’re running again, and the men pause at their fallen comrade briefly, probably to check if we’ve killed him. It gives us the head start we need to put them out of sight long enough to make it back to the junk shop.

                Gus slams the door behind us and we stand in the front entrance panting heavily. I put my hands on my knees and gasp in the stale air of the shop. When I look up again Gus’ cousin Theo is standing behind the counter, staring at us through narrowed eyes.

                “Yer being chased?” He says.

                Gus shuts his eyes and groans, and Theo crosses his bulky arms across his chest and grunts, “can’t have criminals on my ship, cousin Gus.”

                Gus only snorts, “alright, cousin. How much more?”

                “Five more silvers,” Theo says firmly, and his eyes glint.

                Gus heaves a sigh and then shrugs, “very well, but not a coin more. You’ll leave me with nothing by the time you’re finished with me.”

                Theo shakes his head disapprovingly, “and you’ll have me and my ship pursued by royal guards or the like, oh aye, fat chance I’ll let you slip by without paying for that.”

                “It’s not the royal gaurds,” Ellie says, and when I shoot her a cautioning look she shrugs, “well it isn’t as if we’re in trouble with the Queen.”

                Theo looks curious, “then who are you in trouble with?”

                “Not something we need to discuss,” I say evenly, and get a dirty look that I proceed to ignore.

                “Right,” Theo finally says, “ships ready to go. When do you want to be leavin,?”

                “Now,” Gus straightens his shirt.

                “No,” I correct him, “right after I change out of this bloody ridiculous dress.”

                Theo leers at me, “fits you nice.”

                I direct my best chilling glare at him and he just rolls his eyes, “alright, you lot get ready, I’ll be out back startin’ her up.”

                He exits the shop, and Ellie and I duck into the little curtained alcove that serves as the shop change room. It feels wonderful to slip back into my soft, worn breeches and tunic and shove the sword through my belt. It was like I had shed my regular skin for an hour and now I was back inside it.

                Ellie looked similarly relieved, and when she sees me glance over at her she explains, “reminds me too much of…well, the old days.”

                “Back when you were rich and lacy?” I tease, and she pulls an awful face at me.

                “Ready ladies?” Gus’ voice floats from the back room.  Ellie pushes the curtain aside and we join him .

                Gus has a leather pack on his back, and when I give it a quizzical looks he shrugs, “got too much coin on me to be carrying it around in my pockets. It doesn’t do to walk around jingling like a piggy bank when you’re walking through a rough neighborhood. Cousin Theo was more than happy to sell me this bag at an outrageous price.”

                “I bet he was,” I grumble.

                “Ready for another airship ride?” Gus grins at us, “maybe this one won’t result in pirates and undead monsters.”

                Theo’s airship does not inspire any confidence in me. Maybe there won’t be any monsters or pirates – the thought of Jasper sends a pang through my stomach – but if this airship plummets like a rock it will certainly result in instant death.

The hull appears to have been fixed numerous times, and there are so many patches on the air balloon that it resembles an old ladies’ patchwork quilt. Theo is already up in the broad basket attached to the underside. He has the ship’s engine running already and it coughs and hacks like a smoker, bursts of steam shoot from the engine, which isn’t the worrying part, it’s the puffs of black smoke that billow out every now and then that has me concerned, couples with the faint smell of something burning.

I give Gus an incredulous look, and he grins back at me, “She’ll get us there!” he shouts over the hiccupping engine.

                “Are you absolutely sure of that?” Ellie claps one hand over her top hat to keep it from being blown of her head by the updraft coming from the ship. She doesn’t look any more keen than I do to board that thing.

                “Come on,” Gus yells, “if we crash and die I’ll take the blame.”

                “That’s great,” I call back to him, “if we die I will blame you. In fact, I’m going to have you resurrected just so I can kill you again.”

                “Sounds like a plan,” Gus’ dreadlocks fly back as he ducks down against the pressure of the wind and runs for the ship, mounting the rickety fold-out steps on the side of the basket.

                Ellie and I exchange one last look before following him.