Evie's Gift

The sound of a siren cut across the cabin, making her jump and clap her hands over her ears. Other passengers did the same, some of the gentlemen falling into a crouch as the airship lurched.

Several crewmen entered the passengers’ cabin, and one lieutenant shouted across the panicked exclamations of the civilians. “Everyone please remain calm. There is a minor disturbance. In only a few moments, the issue will be resolved. Until then, I must ask everyone to take a seat.”

Despite the reassurances of the crewmen, Evie was certain something was very wrong. Her tiny slippered feet pressed into the carpeted floor of the cabin, reading the vibrating thrum of the airship's propellers. They had reduced speed, but she couldn’t explain how she knew, not without giving away her secret.

“Evie.” Jeffrey had returned and whispered to her, so no other passenger would hear. “You saw something earlier.”

“Sort of,” she murmured, distracted by the odd vibrations traveling along the ship's hull. A door or hatch opened somewhere, the sharp clangs of the hinges piercing her inner senses though the sounds never reached her ears.

“It wasn't one of those feelings of yours, was it?” His voice urgent, he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“I hadn't thought so.” She shrugged off his grip, still caught by the sensations from the airship. “It was so far away, down below us. I thought I'd seen a whale or something.”

“But, Evie.” Jeffrey grabbed her wrist, his slender fingers tightening over Toby. “There was nothing to see, and you only sense metal.”