Excerpt

Mr. Blue arrived at two in the afternoon.

"It could have been a trick of the light in that photograph," Georgia admitted, "but it looked like that vampire bat was in the window."

He shook his head. "You found this and a photo of a boat named Gladys by random chance?"

"I'm afraid so," Georgia said. "I know how much you hate coincidence, Mr. Blue."

"I am beginning to reassess my opinion on coincidences. Or perhaps it was fate that you, the Knight-Protector, saw those photos."

"Whatever the reason, we should look for ourselves," Georgia said.

"I am concerned, my lady."

"You don't think I should go because I am a lady and could get hurt," she said.

"Well, I know you were built for this sort of thing, but as we face the idea of putting you in danger, knowingly, it worries me."

"It worries me, too," Bea said, walking in with some sort of leather band in hand. Behind her, Millie and Eunice followed. "Georgia, you had better not get hurt."

Georgia smiled. "I think it will be all right. We already handled the vampire bat. If anything, this might give a clue to its lair."

"If so, then that means its lair is on Hampton's property, which implies something dire," Mr. Blue admitted. "While this all started as a mundane poisoning, it's rapidly turned into something supernatural."

"Your labs couldn't find any poison," Georgia said, "but they did find bat's blood in a glass. You said yourself it sounded like a magic potion."

"You hear yourself talk, right?" Bea asked.

"We're already past the shallows, Bea. Start paddling or drown."

"Indeed, I did say that about a potion," Mr. Blue agreed. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"At least you're going over there during the day." Bea held up the leather contraption. "Georgia, I want you to wear this."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a leather wrap for your neck, my lady," Millie said. "Eunice and I stitched it together from one of the master's old leather braces. It's to keep the vampires from biting your neck."

Mr. Blue smiled. "Millie, that is ingenious."

"Thank you, sir," she said. "It was Eunice's idea. I just helped with it."

"Come now. It was just the one vampire bat. We're not up to vampires in the plural. Even I can't believe I just said that." Georgia took the neck wrap, and Millie secured it to her shoulders. "Thank you so much. That was sweet of you both."

"Let's hope you don't need it," Mr. Blue said.

Francis brought the carriage around. "We'll be driving ourselves," Georgia told the footman. Mr. Blue climbed into the front, and Georgia joined him.

"Good heavens," Bea said. "Georgia, you look like you work here now."

"I will not put anyone else in danger," Georgia said. "Mr. Derry, we should be back by sunset."

"Yes, my lady," the butler said. "Please, be careful."

"Mr. Derry, if we do not return by midnight, you must send someone to the Order of the Blue. They are already aware of the situation, and will know what to do," Mr. Blue said.

"Yes, of course, sir."

Mr. Blue took the reins but didn't snap them. Instead, he spoke to the horse. "Take us to the docks on the west side as quickly as you can, please. Whatever route you think appropriate is fine." The horse snorted as if it understood every word, and they set off immediately.

"Okay, that was interesting," Georgia said as the carriage lurched forward. She had spoken to her mounts many times, but they never answered back.

"We should scout the area before going into the building. From what Mr. Hampton said in his interview after the party, it is abandoned," Mr. Blue said.

"Right. Let's see if the Gladys is still moored behind it, too," Georgia said. "I really wanted Gladys to be a cute little dog. That would have been so much better."

"I couldn't agree more."

It was an hour of cross-town traffic before they turned down Hampton Lane to the dry docks on the west side. The docks were bustling, and it took another half hour to get there.

"If we lose the light—"

"If we do, we should leave and come back in the morning." Mr. Blue finished the thought.

They made their way around the warehouse, walking past groups of dockworkers repairing boats in the dry dock. Georgia counted at least ten separate inlets, each with a project going. At the far side of the pier, a dozen small ships came for trade. The business was brisk. The warehouse was, as Mr. Hampton described, walled-off entirely from the landward side. The front face of the building had its little dock that was starting to fall apart from disuse.

"What a jerk," she muttered, thinking of Mr. Hampton. "How many people must have lost their jobs the day he decided to wall up this place?"

"Men of business are their own breed," Mr. Blue said. "Where do you suppose the Gladys is?"

Georgia looked around, trying to imagine where it would be, based on her memory of the photograph. "I think it would be this way," she said, leading them just to the east of the building along a side path.

They passed another ship set into a narrow basin on a dry platform. Next to that, they found the Gladys moored in a flooded basin. They walked around it entirely, getting a better look. Off to one side, a fellow who appeared to be a foreman approached. He was older with sun-dried skin. Still, he had the demeanor of one who gives the orders.

"Good day," he said. "May I help you?" He was polite enough, even if his tone said, 'what are you doing here?'

Mr. Blue held up a writ. "Good day," he said. "I am Mr. Blue. We are investigating with the full authority of the Crown. We need to look around and will be entering the craft. I assume you will not object?"

"You have a writ of the warrant?" the foreman asked.

"I have a Writ of Full Royal Authority to enter any domain or structure for any reason," Mr. Blue said, smiling.

The foreman took a step back. "Oh, I see. Well, uh, let me know if I can help?" He tipped his hat to Georgia and walked away quickly. Georgia watched as he rejoined a group of dockworkers, who all stared from a distance. What a sight she and Mr. Blue must be—a woman with a sword and a blue wizard.

Mr. Blue led her over the plank to the ship. The Gladys was a river barge, intended for rapid transport upstream. The vessel had a full deck with many hook-points for strapping down crates but rode high in the water.

"I wonder why this ship, in particular, was in Sir Alexander's will," Georgia said. She looked around, seeing at least two others marked with the Hampton Madison logo on the side.

"Interesting question," Mr. Blue said. "Maybe when the original will was written, this was the only vessel he owned? Sir Alexander may have acquired the others later but found no reason to list them after he sold his share of the business."

"That makes sense," Georgia said. They walked across the deck from port to stern, looking for anything interesting, before finding a galley door. With some effort, Mr. Blue pushed the portal open. Rust and the odor of rancid mold wafted into Georgia's nose as she stepped inside. "Charming."

The interior cabin was designed for bedding down or relaxation time with fold-down sleeping pallets mounted on the far wall and a table in the center. Everything was covered in thick dust. Along the opposite wall were a row of personal lockers. Mr. Blue poked through the lockers, but they were all empty. Along the rest of the wall, it appeared there were once hanging charts on hooks, but all of that was gone now. "When the ship went into dock, they must have taken the records away," Mr. Blue said.

"Accountants hate leaving charts lying around. You know, dust doesn't make an odor like this," Georgia said, looking around for a source. There were two other doors, leading further into the vessel. She opened the first to find a small kitchen. It was tidy, although the smell was stronger. "I guess boats just get smelly."

"They do when they sit in still water long enough," Mr. Blue said. "Judging by the buildup on the hull, I'd say the Gladys has been resting in this channel for at least two years."

"Hello?" a familiar voice came from the galley.

Georgia poked her head out to see one of the Hampton twins standing with the foreman and a few dockworkers.

"Ollie?" she asked.

"Lady Georgia, yes, it's me," he said, smiling suddenly. "You guessed correctly. When Gaffey came running to tell us a man from the Crown was here, he neglected to mention you."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hampton," the foreman said. "I didn't mean to inconvenience you."

"Nonsense," Ollie said. "You did what you should, good man. Although, next time a lady with a sword strapped to her back pops in, you might want to lead with that." Ollie elbowed the foreman and laughed.

Mr. Blue followed Georgia out to the galley. "Hello," he said, grinning.

"Hello, Mr. Blue. Good to see you again. What brings you to the docks today?" Ollie asked.

"We're following up leads and checking on clues," Mr. Blue said.

"This old boat is a clue?" Ollie asked. "How extraordinary."

"We think Sir Alexander originally listed it in his will but removed it later," Georgia said. "Do you know anything about the boat?" Intentionally, she left out the part about the will regarding Ollie's father and how the implication was trouble.

"Honestly, until you set foot aboard, I didn't even know it was here." He turned to the foreman. "Gaffey, run over to Irma and get the bill of lading. See if we have a manifest on file, will you?"

"Yes, Mr. Hampton," the foreman said, leaving immediately. Ollie dismissed the other workers. "We'll be fine, lads. The lady with the sword is quite friendly." The dockworkers all nodded, smiling, and shuffled out the door.

"It's sweet they are so protective," Georgia said.

Ollie and Mr. Blue laughed.

"We were just about to look in this second room," Mr. Blue said. "Would you care to join us, Ollie?"

"Okay," Ollie said, smiling. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to learn more about the old girl."

Mr. Blue opened the second door, which was a captain's office. A blast of cold air wreaking of mold and rust came out. As they stepped in, Georgia could see her breath.

"That's not natural," Mr. Blue said, looking around. He looked at the floor, poking around the desk with his walking stick. "Ollie, can you help me move this desk?" Ollie and Mr. Blue pulled the desk to the corner. Mr. Blue came back and knelt, holding the cane in the air. He closed his eyes and whispered something indecipherable.

"What do we have here?" Ollie whispered, a faint smile playing in the corners of his mouth.

Georgia shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Something changed. The air grew a little sharper and colder, and then the floor shimmered.

"My word," Ollie gasped as they stepped backward.

The floor glowed in places, and lines formed around Mr. Blue. It was a circle with tiny runes. The wizard stood and stepped over to them as the glowing area increased in threads across the floor. Numbers appeared in rings around the circle, shimmering across the floor. "It is for protection," Mr. Blue said. "Someone cast this here, years ago. The magic is still present."

"Wait. Is this real magic? I mean, you're not having me on, are you?" He laughed nervously.

"I'm afraid it is genuine," Mr. Blue said. "Someone on this boat placed a magic circle here for a significant reason. I don't know what kind of circle it is, but I can feel its power. The fact we can even see it tells me it is potent."

The air grew so cold that Georgia's teeth began to rattle, so they stepped out to the galley.

Gaffey, the foreman, returned with a folder full of papers. "Thanks so much," Ollie said, accepting the ledger. "We're fine. You can go." He wasn't laughing anymore and flipped open the folder.

Georgia sauntered over. "What do you see?" she asked.

"The Gladys went into dry dock two years ago," Ollie said, reading over the papers. Ollie tilted his head. "The crew reported two deaths and frightening noises in the rooms. Sir Alexander's name is on the bill of lading as the owner, so he ordered the ship to be set in and repaired."

Mr. Blue came over to listen. "Deaths," the wizard repeated. "Does it say how they died?"

"It does," Ollie said, shuddering. "One fellow was dragged into the river by an unknown creature. The second one witnessed the first's death and took his life right afterward."

"Chilling," Mr. Blue murmured.

Ollie flipped through the pages again. "Here we are," he said, reading. "The ship was a transport vehicle in Sir Alexander's name for about twelve years, until two years ago when it picked up a special cargo in Hendon. The captain reported the mysterious noises began immediately as the barge made its way to Oradale."

"Hendon," Georgia said. "That's a long trip."

"The ship manifest would have made it slower as they hit each port on the river route," Ollie said. "According to this, half the crew went missing in action by the time they arrived in the city. The captain was certain the boat was cursed, and the missing crew members were all dead, but Sir Alexander marked them as having quit without giving notice. Interesting, though…"

"What is interesting?" Georgia asked.

Ollie looked up. "Two things are interesting. First, when a crew member quits without notice, they are officially marked as 'not fit for further employment' at the company. Sir Alexander didn't do that, according to this. Instead, he gave everyone who served on the Gladys a job recommendation. There are little stars by each of their names. I should go back to Irma and ask her to look up the personnel files to see if this is in error or if it really went that way."

"That could be informative, yes," Mr. Blue said. He looked back into the captain's office, where the glowing circle was dimming. "What was the second interesting thing?"

"It might be nothing," Ollie said, squinting at the file.

"It's been my experience that everything is important at some point or another," Mr. Blue said.

Ollie showed the bill to Mr. Blue, pointing at the bottom. "That right there is the signature for Sir Alexander's final consent to dock the ship." Mr. Blue looked at it, then at Ollie as if in question. Ollie flipped the pages back to another spot. "That is Sir Alexander's signature to initially check the ship in after the voyage."

Mr. Blue squinted. "The two signatures are different. They are similar, but not identical." He looked at the second signature again. Georgia came over to look. The first signature was in a flowing, smooth hand. The second signature was like a shaky imitation. She also noticed something else—a faint correction in the name 'Madison' on the second signature.

"The 'd' was corrected," she said, "and the handwriting is overly-rigid."

"Someone signed for Sir Alexander, I suspect," Ollie said. "I've seen it before. The foremen occasionally sign my name to things when they know I don't want to be bothered. They're always getting it wrong, though."

"They misspell 'Hampton'?" Georgia asked.

"Oh no, I mean, they get my first name wrong. Everybody calls me Ollie, but it's actually Colin. Ollie was what Manx called me when we were little. He couldn't pronounce my real name," Ollie explained. "Anyway when that happens, we re-write over the original. You know, try to fit it, so the Port Authority doesn't get all worked up. They hate it when we cross something out. That 'o' is a write-over… although I can't imagine what it would have been otherwise."

Georgia took the sheet and held it to the light of the window. She peered closely and finally made it out. "It's a letter 't,'" she said. "It was changed to 'd.'"

"Whoever was signing wrote 'M-a-t' and then changed the 't' to a 'd'," Mr. Blue mumbled, squinting at the paper.

Ollie took the paper back and looked at it again.

Georgia noted his hand trembled. Was that from the unnatural cold, or something else?