"The highest mountains in Europe, and the war reaches us so quickly." Count Volger shook his head. "What an age we live in."
"Do you think they saw us?"
"In all that chaos? I'd think not. And this ruin won't look like much from a distance, even when the sun comes up." The wildcount sighed. "But no cooking fires for a while. And we'll have to set a watch until they leave."
"What if they don't leave?" Alek said. "What if they can't?"
"Then they won't last long," Volger said flatly. "There's nothing to eat on the glacier, no shelter, no fuel for a fire. Just ice."
Alek turned to stare at Volger. "But we can't leave shipwrecked men to die!"
"May I remind you that they're the enemy, Alek? Just because the Germans are hunting us doesn't make Darwinists our friends. There could be a hundred men aboard that ship! Perhaps enough to take this castle." Volger's voice softened as he peered into the sky. "Let's just hope no rescue comes for them. Aircraft overhead in daylight would be a disaster."
Alek looked out across the glacier again. The snow thrown up by the crash was settling around the airship, revealing that it lay half on one side, like a beached fish. He wondered if Darwinist creations died from the cold as quickly as natural beasts. Or men.
A hundred of them out there ...
He looked down at the stables below - food enough for a small army. And medicine for the wounded, and furs and firewood to keep them warm.
"We can't sit here and watch them die, Count. Enemies or not."
"Haven't you been listening?" Volger cried. "You're heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary. Your duty is to the empire, not those men out there."
Alek shook his head. "At the moment there isn't much I can do for the empire."
"Not yet. But if you keep yourself alive, soon enough you'll gain the power to stop this madness. Don't forget: The emperor is eighty-three, and war is unkind to old men."
With those last words Volger's voice broke, and suddenly he looked ancient himself, as if the last five weeks had finally caught up with him. Alek swallowed his answer, remembering what Volger had sacrificed - his home, his rank - to be hunted and hounded, to go sleepless listening to wireless chatter. And with safety finally at hand, this obscene creature had fallen from the sky, threatening to wreck years of planning.
No wonder he wanted to ignore the airbeast dying on the snows a few kilometers away.
"Of course, Volger." Alek took his arm and led him down from the cold and windy parapet. "We'll watch and wait."
"They'll probably repair that godless beast," Volger said on the stairs. "And leave us behind without a second glance."
"No doubt."
Halfway across the courtyard, Volger brought Alek to a sudden halt, his expression pained. "We'd help them if we could. But this war could leave the whole continent in ruins. You see that, don't you?"
Alek nodded and led the count into the great hall of the castle, where Bauer was piling wood into the fireplace. Seeing the food laid out and ready to cook, Volger let out a tired sigh and told the other men about the crashed airship - another week without fires, and long, cold watches every night.
But eating in a castle, even a cold one, was still a pleasure after all those meals huddled in the Stormwalker's iron belly. The storerooms held luxuries that none of them had enjoyed for weeks: smoked fish for dinner, dried fruit and canned peaches for dessert. The wine was excellent, and when Alek offered to take the first watch, the others drank to him deeply.
No one talked about rescuing the airmen. Perhaps the other three assumed that the monstrous creature would fly away again. They hadn't seen the bullet holes in its flanks, or the men hanging wounded and lifeless in the rigging. Instead they talked like soldiers, discussing how to defend the castle against an aerial attack. Bauer and Klopp argued about whether the Stormwalker's cannon could elevate high enough to hit an airship.
Alek listened and watched. He'd slept most of the day, taking the controls only after sunset, when Klopp's old eyes always gave out. It was barely midnight now, and it would be dawn before he needed sleep. But the others were worn down by the day's journey and the freezing cold.
When they had fallen asleep, Alek made his way quietly up to the parapets.
The airship lay in a dark lump on the glacier's featureless white. It looked smaller now, as if slowly deflating. No fires or lamps were visible, just the strange glow he'd noticed earlier. Tiny pinpricks of light moved in the wreckage, like green fireflies buzzing about the giant creature's wounds.
Alek shivered. He'd heard awful stories about the Darwinists' creations: half-breeds of tigers and wolves, mythological monsters brought to life, animals that spoke and even reasoned like humans, but had no souls. He'd been told that when godless beasts were created, the spirits of demons occupied them - pure evil given flesh.
Of course, he'd also been taught that the emperor was wise and kind, that the Austrian people loved him, and that the Germans were his allies.
Alek descended the tower stairs and crept past the sleeping men into the storerooms. The medicine kits were easy to find, eight satchels marked with red crosses. He took three, but didn't weigh himself down with any food. That could come later, if the airship really was grounded for good.
Changing into his commoner disguise, Alek ignored the furs, choosing the most ragged leather coat he could find. From the weapons room he took a Steyr automatic pistol and two eight-round clips. Hardly the sort of weapon a Swiss villager would carry, but Volger was right about one thing - this was still a war, and these Darwinists were the enemy.
Finally he chose a pair of snowshoes. Alek wasn't sure how the contraptions were supposed to help him walk, but Klopp had exalted upon seeing them - something about his mountain campaigns back in the Balkan Wars.
The iron bolt of the castle gate slid silently aside, and the huge door swung open with an easy push. It was so simple to walk out, throwing his hard-won safety to the cold wind. Certainly it felt nobler than hiding here, waiting to inherit an empire.
Half a kilometer out onto the snows Alek realized that he had finally snuck past his old fencing master.
The snowshoes looked absurd, like tennis rackets strapped to his boots. But they worked, keeping his feet from breaking through the brittle surface into the powdery snow beneath. His long, sliding steps carried him quickly back along the Stormwalker's footprints, until he was far enough away that his tracks weren't visible from the castle walls.