Count Volger.”
“No,” Alek snapped, and the man froze.
Aleksandar smiled grimly. At least someone in this machine remembered his station.
“What’s your name?”
The man saluted. “Corporal Bauer, sir.”
“All right, Bauer,” he said in a calm, even voice. “I’m ordering you to let me go. I can drop out the belly hatch while we’re still moving. You can follow and help me get home. I’ll make sure my father rewards you. You’ll be a hero, instead of a traitor.”
“Your father …” The man’s face fell. “I’m so sorry.”
Like a long echo rolling in from a distance, Alek’s mind replayed what Count Volger had said as the chemical had taken hold—something about his parents being dead.
“No,” he said again, but the tone of command was gone. Suddenly the metal confines of the Stormwalker’s belly felt crushingly small. In his own ears Alek’s voice sounded broken now, like a child’s. “Please let me go.”
But the man looked away, embarrassed, reaching up to rap on the hatchway with an oily wrench.
“Your father made preparations before he left for Sarajevo,” Count Volger said. “In case the worst happened.”
Alek didn’t answer. He was staring out the Stormwalker’s viewport from the commander’s chair, watching the tops of young hornbeam trees roll past. Beside him Otto Klopp guided the machine with steady, perfect motions of the saunters.
Dawn was breaking, the horizon turning bloodred. They were still deep in the forest, heading west on a narrow carriage path.
“He was a wise man,” Klopp said. “He knew that going so close to Serbia would be dangerous.”
“But threats couldn’t keep the archduke from his duty,” Count Volger said.
“Duty?” Alek held his throbbing head; he could still taste the chemicals in his mouth. “But my mother … He would never take her into danger.”
Count Volger sighed. “Whenever Princess Sophie could participate in affairs of state, your father was happy.”
Alek shut his eyes. It always pained Father when Sophie wasn’t allowed to stand beside him at official receptions. More punishment for loving a woman who wasn’t royal.
The thought of his parents dead was absurd. “This is a trick to keep me quiet. You’re all lying !”
No one answered. The cabin resonated with the growl of Daimler engines and the scrape of branches against camouflage netting. Volger stood silent, his face thoughtful. The leather hand straps hanging from the ceiling swung in time with the walker’s gait. Strangely, part of Alek’s mind could focus only on Klopp’s hands on the controls, marveling at his mastery of the machine.
“The Serbs wouldn’t dare kill my parents,” Alek said softly.
“I have other suspects in mind,” Volger said flatly. “Those who want war among the great powers. But we have no time to theorize now, Aleksandar. Our first task is to get you to safety.”
Alek stared out the walker’s viewport again. Volger had addressed him as simply Aleksandar, without any title, as if he were a commoner. But somehow the insult had lost its power.
“Assassins struck twice in the morning,” Volger said. “Serb schoolboys hardly older than you, first with bombs and then with pistols. Both times they failed. Then last night a feast was given in your father’s honor, and he was toasted for his bravery. But poison took your parents in the night.”
Alek imagined them lying dead beside each other, and the hollowness inside him grew. But the story didn’t make sense at all. The assassins would have come for Alek himself—the half royal, the lady-in-waiting’s son. Not his father, whose blood was pure.
“If they’re really dead, why does anyone still care about me? I’m nothing now.”
“Some might think differently.” Count Volger crouched next to the command chair. He stared out the window alongside Alek, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Emperor Franz Joseph is eighty-three years old. If he dies soon, some might
“No,” Alek snapped, and the man froze.
Aleksandar smiled grimly. At least someone in this machine remembered his station.
“What’s your name?”
The man saluted. “Corporal Bauer, sir.”
“All right, Bauer,” he said in a calm, even voice. “I’m ordering you to let me go. I can drop out the belly hatch while we’re still moving. You can follow and help me get home. I’ll make sure my father rewards you. You’ll be a hero, instead of a traitor.”
“Your father …” The man’s face fell. “I’m so sorry.”
Like a long echo rolling in from a distance, Alek’s mind replayed what Count Volger had said as the chemical had taken hold—something about his parents being dead.
“No,” he said again, but the tone of command was gone. Suddenly the metal confines of the Stormwalker’s belly felt crushingly small. In his own ears Alek’s voice sounded broken now, like a child’s. “Please let me go.”
But the man looked away, embarrassed, reaching up to rap on the hatchway with an oily wrench.
“Your father made preparations before he left for Sarajevo,” Count Volger said. “In case the worst happened.”
Alek didn’t answer. He was staring out the Stormwalker’s viewport from the commander’s chair, watching the tops of young hornbeam trees roll past. Beside him Otto Klopp guided the machine with steady, perfect motions of the saunters.
Dawn was breaking, the horizon turning bloodred. They were still deep in the forest, heading west on a narrow carriage path.
“He was a wise man,” Klopp said. “He knew that going so close to Serbia would be dangerous.”
“But threats couldn’t keep the archduke from his duty,” Count Volger said.
“Duty?” Alek held his throbbing head; he could still taste the chemicals in his mouth. “But my mother … He would never take her into danger.”
Count Volger sighed. “Whenever Princess Sophie could participate in affairs of state, your father was happy.”
Alek shut his eyes. It always pained Father when Sophie wasn’t allowed to stand beside him at official receptions. More punishment for loving a woman who wasn’t royal.
The thought of his parents dead was absurd. “This is a trick to keep me quiet. You’re all lying !”
No one answered. The cabin resonated with the growl of Daimler engines and the scrape of branches against camouflage netting. Volger stood silent, his face thoughtful. The leather hand straps hanging from the ceiling swung in time with the walker’s gait. Strangely, part of Alek’s mind could focus only on Klopp’s hands on the controls, marveling at his mastery of the machine.
“The Serbs wouldn’t dare kill my parents,” Alek said softly.
“I have other suspects in mind,” Volger said flatly. “Those who want war among the great powers. But we have no time to theorize now, Aleksandar. Our first task is to get you to safety.”
Alek stared out the walker’s viewport again. Volger had addressed him as simply Aleksandar, without any title, as if he were a commoner. But somehow the insult had lost its power.
“Assassins struck twice in the morning,” Volger said. “Serb schoolboys hardly older than you, first with bombs and then with pistols. Both times they failed. Then last night a feast was given in your father’s honor, and he was toasted for his bravery. But poison took your parents in the night.”
Alek imagined them lying dead beside each other, and the hollowness inside him grew. But the story didn’t make sense at all. The assassins would have come for Alek himself—the half royal, the lady-in-waiting’s son. Not his father, whose blood was pure.
“If they’re really dead, why does anyone still care about me? I’m nothing now.”
“Some might think differently.” Count Volger crouched next to the command chair. He stared out the window alongside Alek, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Emperor Franz Joseph is eighty-three years old. If he dies soon, some might
Similar Books
Castle in the Sand
Megan Hart
The Phenomenals: A Tangle of Traitors
F E Higgins
Life's a Witch
Amanda M. Lee
Armored Tears
Mark Kalina
Glasgow Grace
Marion Ueckermann
Cassie's Hope (Riders Up)
Adriana Kraft
House of Dark Shadows
Robert Liparulo
Life Eludes Him
Jennifer Suits
Chased by a Stranger (Craved Series #3)
Hazel Kelly