Nyssa Glass and the Juliet Dilemma: Nyssa Glass, #2

By H. L. Burke

Being framed for murder and forced to flee the country sort of takes the fun out of vacations.
Reformed cat burglar, Nyssa Glass, wants to lead an honest life as an electrician's apprentice. Instead, she's on the run with her new friend, Ellis, implicated in a crime she didn't commit. The pair ends up stowing away on a zeppelin and meeting Renard and Amara, two teens running away to be married. But the mysterious couple is hiding something—and it might get Nyssa and Ellis killed.

 

Book Two in the Nyssa Glass Steampunk Series

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. L. Burke
• Release date: Mar 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224855384

Book preview

To Coryn,

my practical, empathetic, perceptive darling.

Mom

Chapter One

H old still please. You don’t want the photograph to be blurry.

It’s not my fault you haven’t updated your camera. The newer models have nearly instantaneous exposure. That relic looks older than I am. Nyssa Glass swallowed her rant and sat straighter.

Across the room Ellis rested in his mechanized wheelchair. Behind him the streaked glass revealed a narrow side street filled with dingy, rundown storefronts. A few pedestrians and motorists passed by, but none gave the shop a second glance.

For the best. Being sighted in the company of a known forger could cause unwanted scrutiny.

The shutter clicked.

Good, good. The photographer, a small man with a thin mustache and stiffly parted hair, nodded. Your expression won’t be pleasant by any means, but it will suffice.

Nyssa glared at him, her fingers gripping into her ruffled skirts. I save my pleasant expression for better company.

The man cleared his throat and disappeared into the back room, mumbling, Just a minute.

Nervy fellow. Nyssa stood and stretched her legs.

For what it’s worth, I always find your expression pleasant. Ellis flashed his easy smile. His dark eyes sparkled at her, full of life and thoughtfulness beyond his nineteen years.

The tension between Nyssa’s shoulders eased. I just want to get out of here. Out of the whole country, for that matter.

So do I, but for that we need passports, which puts us at Victor’s mercy. You said yourself, he’s the best.

The best forger. Still makes him a criminal. She sniffed and came to rest her hand on Ellis’s shoulder. Thank you. You’re not the one who is wanted, so going through all this for me—

I have my own reasons for traveling incognito. You know that, he said. "It doesn’t matter, though. Tomorrow we board The HMS Juliet and leave the nation of New Taured—and our past—in its steam."

Nyssa smiled. She’d never traveled by zeppelin, and The Juliet was a top-of-the-line luxury dirigible, capable of carrying twenty passengers in comfort and style. Under different circumstances, she’d have been thrilled.

Being framed for murder and forced to flee the country sort of takes the fun out of vacations.

Ellis took her hand. Hey, cheer up. Everything’s almost behind us. He flipped a dial on the armrest of his chair. It unfolded and adjusted, clamping around his legs like a pair of braces, supporting him until he could stand upright. I have it planned out. We’ll get to San Azula, cash in enough of my bonds to purchase a home, maybe start a business. Glass and ... not Dalhart. I need a new name.

She laughed. And what will we do in this venture?

Whatever we want. He shrugged. Between your electrician training and everything I learned in my father’s workshop, we have options.

Sounds wonderful. Nyssa brushed a stray lock of wiry brown hair from her eyes. I’d like a chance to contribute financially to the arrangement.

Oh, don’t worry about it. What’s the point in having a rich boyfriend if he doesn’t buy you things? He winked.

Nyssa blushed. Their relationship was only a month old and ill-defined. She was fond of him, yes. While he’d never made any advances stronger than an occasional kiss, traveling in such tight quarters was often awkward. It would be nice to know exactly where things were headed. She couldn’t help but worry what people thought of them, sharing a hotel room, or feel a tinge of guilt when she enjoyed their kisses. After all, was that something nice girls did? Did nice girls even have boyfriends, or did they somehow manage to skip straight to fiancés? Nyssa had never had anyone to talk to regarding such matters. 

The door to the back room opened, and the pistons in Ellis’s leg-braces hissed as he turned to face Victor.

The forger clasped two leather-bound documents in his outstretched hand.

Already? Ellis asked.

Yes, sir. You were in luck. A pair stopped by yesterday and ordered two. I had them half-finished when they tried to pay in jewelry, Victor said. We’re strictly a cash operation, you understand. Speaking of ...?

Ellis reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the bills. Nyssa had instructed him to bring only the exact payment, in case Victor tried to press for more. Ellis was smart, but not particularly worldly. Also, he could be cavalier with his expenditures in a way that made her head spin. When purchasing their zeppelin tickets the night before, he’d tipped the desk girl a fiver!

Ah, thank you, sir. Victor moved behind the counter and began to count the money.

Ellis cracked open the first passport.

Hart Cormac? Nyssa read over his shoulder.

Yes, I wanted something that if it got shouted at me, I’d look up. Cormac was my mother’s maiden name. He handed her the other document. You’re Nessa Cormac.

She raised her eyebrows. Are we siblings or spouses in this scenario?

I’m assuming spouses, since we’re sharing a stateroom. He laughed.

She flushed.

Don’t worry, he said, his tone growing serious again. There are two beds. I paid extra.

It’s all here, Victor called out. A pleasure doing business with you. He came back and offered Ellis his hand.

Nyssa stared at the documents. He’d gotten her age right, sixteen, even if he’d lied about her name and marital status. Her own face stared back at her from the photograph: hazel eyes steely, mouth a firm line. Perhaps her expression was a little harsh.

Somehow Ellis had managed a smile even with the awkward, formal pose Victor had required. He looked charming, his tanned complexion and dark hair coming across well in the sepia tones of the picture.

He pulled out the envelope with their zeppelin tickets and tucked it into his passport. We better head back to the hotel. We have to be at the hangar by six a.m. for departure.

His braces folded back into a wheelchair as Ellis sat. Victor rushed to get the door for them, bowing.

If you are ever back in Freeport and in need of documents, I’d be happy to serve you again, he said. It has been a pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Cormac.

Thanks, Nyssa mumbled.

She kept one hand on the back of Ellis’s chair as he rolled out the door.

It makes you uncomfortable, being my wife? Ellis raised an eyebrow.

"It makes me uncomfortable pretending to be your wife. I’ve never been much for playacting."

They’d hidden their horseless carriage around back. Nyssa suspected the plates might be reported as stolen, since she’d taken the carriage from the woman who’d blackmailed her into breaking into Ellis’s home. At least that had allowed her to find Ellis, who had been trapped by his insane father’s experiments.

She might be the one who was wanted by the authorities, but Ellis had his own share of ghosts. Yes, a fresh start overseas was just what both of them needed.

He smiled. Yes, well, we’ve only known each other about three weeks. It’s a little early to make it official.

Her face warmed. I didn’t mean ...

So that wasn’t a proposal? For the best, I suppose. You don’t have a ring to give me. He laughed again.

She sniffed. The only ring you’ll get from me is me wringing your neck, smart mouth. I owe him a prank for that one. Maybe I’ll stuff some nuts and bolts in his pillow tonight.

They turned a corner into the alley. A woman in a scarlet dress leaned against their horseless carriage.

What is she doing here? Nyssa whispered.

The woman turned to face them. Her skin was porcelain pale, contrasting starkly with her rich, brown curls. Green eyes flashed above a crimson scarf that covered the lower portion of her face.

Nyssa dove for a board that lay in a trash pile nearby. She brandished it at the woman. Get away from our carriage, thief!

Uh, Nyss ...

Nyssa glanced back.

A man in a bowler hat with a black scarf over his mouth and nose stood at Ellis’s shoulder. He held the barrel of a revolver against Ellis’s neck. The muscles in Nyssa’s arms turned to water. The board clattered to the cobblestones.

We don’t want your carriage, the man said. Just the documents you picked up from Victor’s shop.

They won’t do you any good. They have our faces on them, Ellis said.

We’ll figure that out. The woman flounced towards them. Nyssa eyed her. They were about the same size, petite ... but something about the woman’s movements made Nyssa sure she could take her. She had a certain elegance that didn’t suggest someone used to scrapping. While Nyssa didn’t like to fight, she’d been forced to defend herself more than once during her days on the streets.

Look, we don’t want any trouble, Ellis said.

The man jabbed the gun into Ellis’s temple.