Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity Natalie Brianne (best summer reads of all time .txt) 📖

Byron pulled out his pocket watch. “About ten minutes. But that’s only a problem for the moment.”

He stood, and they moved out of the airship. Byron helped her down the ramp and the church clocks struck 4 as they strolled in the afternoon air.

“Do you have a plan?” She looked up at him.

“I always have a plan. Here’s what I need you to do.” He stopped, looked around, and then pulled her into an alley.

“Go on back to your apartment and don’t worry about things,” he whispered.

“What?”

“This is something I need to do on my own.”

“Will you at least tell me what you’re going to do?”

He searched her face. “Very well. I’m going to break into the airship this evening.”

“Byron!”

He put a finger to her lips and looked around to ensure no one heard. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. Don’t try to stop me.”

“It’s not that. I want to come!”

Byron stopped for a moment and searched her face, before shaking his head.

“Well, you aren’t coming.”

“Oh no. You’re not sending me home at the first chance of danger.” Mira crossed her arms.

“Why not? You said it yourself. Danger. I can’t drag you into that.”

“Yes, but it’s also excitement. Something different. And how are you to survive without your secretary?”

“I have done well enough on my own for the past four years, thank you very much.”

“So then shall I not come back tomorrow?”

“That isn’t what I meant at all.” He paused, then leaned closer to her, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Get dressed in the darkest clothing that you have. Trousers if you own a pair. Come back to my place at nine-thirty this evening. Alright?”

She smiled. “I’ll be there.”

He tried to look annoyed, but it didn’t work. Despite his best efforts he looked incredibly pleased. He tipped his hat to her before he left. She went back to her rooms to get some food and get ready. It was likely to be a late night.

She stopped by her uncle’s and tried on a few of her brother’s clothes to see if they would work for the job. Unfortunately, most of the articles needed to be hemmed, and she didn’t have much time. She opted for her own riding trousers and a black sweater. She had her hair up and out of the way for once. With her boots and gloves, she looked like she was about to go rob something. Her coat hid her attire well enough though, and surely a spring in her step wouldn’t give her plans away. She showed up at Palace Court promptly at nine-fifteen. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, placing her coat on a hook in the hallway.

Byron sat in the living room, sorting through a mess of papers. Mira noticed that the notes he had plastered on the walls earlier were gone. The ones spread out now were much larger. They looked like maps. She came closer. Airship blueprints.

“What are you doing?” She peered over his shoulder. Byron jumped again.

“Mira! You’re early. But in a way you’re just in time. I’ve been looking over the blueprints of the airship we explored earlier.”

“Blueprints?”

“Yes. Most companies keep a record of their designs. I found a bound edition of Vaporidge blueprints from the last eighteen years at the library. No grate system to be found in any of them. Whatever it is that you found, they didn’t include it in the work plans. Either it is just decor, or the public blueprints are not the real ones.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have stumbled on something extraordinary.” He smiled up at her. “And you look fantastic. Just perfect.” His smile became a grin.

He wore all black as well. Black trousers, black sweater, black boots. The two of them matched almost exactly.

“Are you ready to go?” He rolled up the blueprint and stood.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You know you don’t have to come. You can still back out.”

“As if I’m going to do that now.”

“Very well.” He walked across the room to the side table and opened a drawer. He pulled out a key ring with some odd-looking keys and lockpicks. Her eyes widened.

“You don’t mean to—” She trailed off, trying to find the right word.

“Yes. We are breaking into that grate. I thought you wanted excitement?” he teased.

He grabbed his coat and slipped it on, then grabbed hers. He helped her into it, offered her an arm and led her out onto the street. The sky misted, making the atmosphere a bit chilly.

“You’ll have to teach me, then,” she said.

“Teach you what?”

“How to pick locks.”

“Heavens, no. I’m not turning my secretary into a criminal in training.”

They headed to the docks, which lay quiet and still, a great change to the usual hustle and bustle happening during the day. They walked normally until they came close to the airship, and then Byron took off his coat and gestured for her to take hers off as well. They stashed them behind a couple of crates. Byron peeked out, looked around, then pulled back.

“Guards,” he whispered. Mira shrunk up against the crate. Byron put a finger to his lips to quiet her, then picked up a rock. He threw it as hard as he could, and it made a loud ricochet sound against the hull of another ship. Loud footsteps ran in that direction. Byron put his head around the corner again, then nodded to Mira, and they snuck up the ramp. He picked the lock to the main door with ease and they walked into the warm interior.

The inside of the ship changed as well. It was still as ornate, but at night it seemed gloomy. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting eerie shadows behind the portraits. The gold fleur-de-lis on the walls turned ghostly. Mira’s thoughts drifted to the haunted Beauchamp House library, and she shivered. Byron led her to the center of the ship where the door to the crew area was. This door