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them was written: Waterloo 1815. These memorials scattered throughout Eton held the names of those students who made the ultimate sacrifice in war.
    I knew I shouldn’t have lashed out at my classmate. Seeing these names reminded me of what really mattered in life. Would my father be the next name added to one of these plaques? My fingers traced each name and the fire tearing through me eased as my breathing slowed. Life was never easy.
    Just when I thought the Headmaster would come and kick me out of Eton for good, Finn walked up.
    â€œCome on, kid.” Finn wrung his hat through his hand. “The baron sent me to fetch you.”
    â€œDid he find my father?”
    â€œThe baron’s in the carriage.”
    I cautiously approached the steamcarriage. Finn opened the door and I climbed in. The baron and his daughter sat on one side, so I dropped onto the other seat with my back to the driver’s perch.
    â€œDid you find my father?”
    The baron shook his head. “Not yet. I’m about to arrange passage to pursue him.”
    I didn’t understand what that meant, but the baron’s expression didn’t look like he wanted to talk. Then the carriage sped off.
    I gripped the seat and tried not to slide as the steamcarriage tore through the streets. Genevieve and her father both sat perfectly. How did they do it? Was there some secret technique that I’d be taught at Eton in the coming years?

CHAPTER 5
THE SKY RAIDERS
    The legendary London docks stretched for miles downriver. The bound masts looked like a forest of trees in winter. I stared with awe through the window of the steamcarriage at the four masts of a large Windjammer.
    When my father and I crossed the Atlantic, we traveled in a wooden-hulled vessel that felt ancient compared to the steel-hulled Windjammer and like a dinosaur when I saw the airships nestled in a web of iron at the end of the pier.
    I pulled myself closer to the window. “Are we going to the airdocks?”
    The baron nodded. “I have to meet an airship.”
    â€œCan I get on?”
    Genevieve blurted out, “I want to get on, too.”
    â€œNo, that is not why you both are here. This was supposed to be finished this afternoon, but the airship was late.”
    I pressed against the window to get a better view of the airdocks. Metal planking formed a gantry around the ships while large iron moorings clamped and secured the airships. People milled about as towering cranes hoisted cargo into their holds.
    The steamcarriage stopped in front of an aero-dirigible.
An actual aero-dirigible!
    I gasped. I had read about the cross between an airplane and a Zeppelin in the newspaper, but never imagined I’d see one up close.
    Its outstretched wings—canvas pulled taut with yardarms running through them like the sail of a Chinese Junk—billowed with the wind. The gun-metal gray underside contrasted with the darkened blue top. A small set of fixed winglets stuck out of the nose. Its smooth, curved lines gave the vessel the look of a giant bird.
    I saw three gun ports running along the side and other mysterious hatches on the hull. What could they be hiding? I wanted to burst from the carriage and study every part of the majestic vessel but a firm hand on my shoulder kept me still.
    â€œI want both of you to stay put.” The baron stepped out of the carriage. “Finn, keep them here. I’ll be fine.”
    â€œOf course, Baron.”
    I watched the baron approach the aero-dirigible’s gangplank. Genevieve slid over to peer out the window, too. I wondered what she thought of all this—the airdocks, the aero-dirigible, and this quest her father would undertake to find my father.
    I turned to her. “I’ve read about the aero-dirigibles in the newspaper.”
    â€œIt is impressive.” Her attention returned to her father.
    She didn’t look interested. How could that be? There was an aero-dirigible just sitting in