Skies of Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

banked the jolly boat hard, just avoiding the hurtling projectile. Had his skill been a fraction less, everyone in the boat would have been blown from the sky.
    As the gunnery crew hurried to reload, Louisa took aim. She winged the soldier loading the shell, chambered another round, and then put a bullet in the leg of the soldier attempting to pull the cord that released the firing pin. The two soldiers went down. By the time back-up soldiers arrived to man the gun, the boat had flown out of range.
    As she released the spent cartridge from the chamber, Louisa caught Christopher’s terse but approving nod. It oughtn’t gratify her, yet it did. He probably didn’t think highly of her as a person, and a woman, but he could respect her as an operative.
    She only permitted herself a sigh of relief when they were well and truly away from the village—the site where she might have died, had it not been for Christopher. Yet she kept her rifle across her knees, easily accessible if she needed to call it back into service.
    With the village and heavy guns behind them, they sped on through the sky. Treetops and jagged mountains below, endless blue vaulting overhead, and wind across her cheeks. The sensation filled her head with lightness. She blinked as the rushing air drew tears from her eyes.
    One hand on the tiller, Christopher pulled something from an inside coat pocket, and with a nod in her direction, pressed it into the closest marine’s hand. From soldier to soldier, the object made its way to her.
    A pair of goggles. Of course Christopher had a supplemental pair on him. He’d always been attentive to the details. In every aspect of his life.
    She slipped on the goggles, adjusting the leather straps to get the fit right. They were men’s goggles, and a little large for her face, but the relief from the biting wind was immediate.
    “Thank you,” she shouted above the wind.
    His response was to curse with the depth and creativity only a sailor possessed.
    She scowled. He might not care for her, but he didn’t have to be so sodding rude.
    Then she saw that he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze remained pinned on something behind her. Twisting around, what she saw made her swear, as well.
    An airship skimmed the horizon. Even at a distance, she recognized its unique lines, with two ether tanks mounted on the underside of the hull. Not a British airship. Hapsburg. A jolly boat with a small ether tank could never outrun a massive ship of the line. Within minutes, it would be on top of them.
    The jolly boat dipped, and suddenly they were just below the canopy of the forest. The overhead branches formed a thick covering.
    Christopher steered the boat close to one of the trees, finding a wide enough gap in the branches to bring the vessel right up against the trunk.
    “Take the tiller, Mr. Farnley.” Christopher unstrapped himself from his harness and stood. Facing the tree, he gripped the trunk, then nimbly leapt onto it. In a moment, he disappeared, climbing up the tree as though he was part cat.
    She hurriedly unbuckled her harness and rose.
    “Ma’am,” one of the marines said. “I don’t—”
    She lifted a finger to her lips, and the marine silenced himself. Carefully, she picked her way down the length of the boat, using the men’s shoulders for stability as she moved toward the tree.
    Like Christopher, she gripped the trunk, then leapt onto the tree. She climbed upward, weaving around the branches. Just above her, she spotted his boots.
    “Get down,” he growled, “and stay with the boat.”
    She continued to climb, until she reached the very top of the tree. Christopher held to one side, and she remained on the other. The tree narrowed at the top, so that a distance of only a foot separated them.
    “Damn it, Louisa.” His eyes were hot with anger behind his goggles. “You want my help, then you do what I say. Get back to the jolly boat.”
    “I need this vantage.” She nodded toward a nearby range of