A Feast of Phantoms by Kat Ross

Author:Kat Ross [Ross, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780999762172
Google: 3q_WDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B085X4B3D8
Goodreads: 51764957
Publisher: Acorn
Published: 2020-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

12

Which is how I found myself riding in a motorcar with Miss Ava Carnarvon behind the wheel.

She was the sort of pretty it was hard not to stare at. Swan neck, dusting of freckles across a slightly upturned nose, the peachy complexion of a true redhead. She wore a pale green scarf that set off her emerald cat-shaped eyes.

And she was nice, too. Nicer than the rest of them, except for Richard, who I liked best.

“I’ll confess, I don’t care much for phantoms,” Ava said as we accelerated out of an underground bay. “They strike me as unreliable. I used to prefer a good horse if I needed to go somewhere. But once I’d taken this prototype for a test ride, well . . .” She laughed. “I was ruined for anything else.”

The motorcar was silver and burnished to a mirror shine. Long and sleek, it had stooping eagles with fierce talons clutching each headlight.

“I can’t blame you,” I said, sinking deeper into the butter-soft leather seat. “Does it run on steam?”

The engine was remarkably quiet, just a steady whirring that only changed in pitch when Ava shifted the gears. She wore smart driving gloves that matched the cream-colored interior.

“It’s powered by clockwork, believe it or not. Some complex mechanism involving a flywheel and mainsprings. Phantoms keep the springs wound tight and they’re good for thirty miles or so before they need winding again. I only use it for city driving. Perhaps someday we’ll have one with a longer range.”

Ava turned a chrome dial and the motorcar sped up. She spun the wheel, weaving between the slower trolleys and bullet-shaped omnibuses with an impatient expression.

I decided that if she rode anything like she drove, her horses were probably glad to be left in the stable.

“My brother is a polyglot but I never learned any grim tongues.” She gave a little shudder. “They’re rather awful, really. Not like French or Spanish. Those sound . . . oh, I don’t know. Just nice to the ear.”

I clutched the door panel as she squeezed between two carriages with inches to spare. “Did you know Lee?”

Ava shook her head. “Not well. I met him a few times when we toured the Academy. They’d trot out the best and brightest. He seemed very stiff.” She gave me a quick searching look. “But he wasn’t like that with you, was he?”

“Stiff? No, I wouldn’t call him that. Full of himself more like it.”

“I suppose he has a right to be.” She laughed. “Most men are full of themselves in one way or another. But Lee isn’t most men. Grandmother is very angry at him, but if what you say is true, he hasn’t done any real harm yet. I just hope we can get him back before he does.”

Ava took a corner at high speed. I braced a palm against the dashboard. The tower dwindled behind and we passed the aerodrome, a series of massive glass and iron sheds that were open at both ends. Two held zeppelins, just visible through the mist.

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