When Pascale Auber is forced out of the airship of the evil Dr. Simpelstur, she finds herself rescued by a handsome Ruritanian diplomat, Theo von Hentzau. Pascale soon realizes that Theo is hiding something - something to do with the evil doctor, th...
The airship lurched disconcertingly under Blaise's chair as the man approached him. The man was middle-aged, above average height, and sported a particularly luxurious, carefully-waxed handlebar mustache. Blaise was in his waistcoat and shirt sleeves, but the strange man wore a black cape over his dark evening wear,. Under one arm the man carried a black top-hat, turned upside down with the brim pointing towards the ceiling, as though the man had just stopped by to visit a friend on his way to a dinner out.
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The man leaned forward, staring into Blaise's eyes. Blaise swallowed, then blinked. He felt uncomfortable, but could not look away.
"Good, both pupils are responding to light as they should." The stranger said brusquely.
Blaise licked his dry lips. "What – what happened? Why am I restrained?"
The strange man laughed. "Why indeed! I merely wish to ask you some questions. If you answer them well, I may consider releasing you."
Blaise frowned. "But who are you?"
"Tut, tut, my boy!" The man idly twirled his mustache. "I am the one asking the questions. Besides," he gestured to the piles of crates in the room and the sturdy, curved walls, "I believe you are my prisoner. You are entirely in my power, Dr. Auber."
Blaise gasped. "You know my name?"
Almost casually, the man reached out a hand and slapped Blaise across the cheek, hard enough that his head was forced to the side, and he could feel the stinging heat of the hit.
His manner still languid and casual, the man pulled a pair of black gloves out of his hat and began to pull them on. "I said that I was the one asking the questions, young man," the man said. "And besides, only a fool asks a question to which he already knows the answer."
Blaise bit his lip gently, his eyes roaming the room. There was no obvious means of escape; the man seemed to be between him and the only door, and besides, he was still tied to the chair.
"Now then, Dr. Auber, what do you know about the young Ruritanian who has been playing suit to your sister?"
Blaise could not help but scowl. "von Hentzau? Nothing at all. Just his name and that's a charming scoundrel."
The mustached man seemed surprised. "von Hentzau? I know that is not his name, boy."
"Yes, it is!" Blaise retorted, "At least – at least, that's what my sister calls him. And Miss Silverstar."
"Bah! Miss Silverstar! And what do you know of her, you worm?"
"Nothing! I just work with her!"
"Odd, that, given that you teach Aetheric Phenomena at the university and Miss Silverstar appears on stage for the opera." He raised a hand, threatening to hit Blaise again.
"I work at both places! Honest! Ask anyone!"
The man smiled. "Perhaps," he said, "I shall do just that."
He turned with a swirl of his cape. A little flicker of hope caught fire in Blaise's heart when the man actually opened the door, and leaned out it. If only I were not tied up, Blaise thought.
"Mandy?" the man called, "Do come along, my dear."
The middle-aged man then stood back from the door, a smirk on his face. He bowed politely as a woman stepped into the light cast into the corridor though the narrow, airship door.
Blaise could feel his injured cheek tug with his sharp intake of breath, the inverse of gasp. The woman in the doorway had fair hair, dark eyes, and delicate, bow-shaped lips – and Blaise knew, from personal experience, that she had the voice of an angel. Mandy, it seemed, was none other than Miss Cartimandua Silverstar.
