by Devon Monk
“Tell us where the witch is, and we will let you go,” the general said.
“Do you think us stupid, General?” Cedar asked.
The general opened his mouth. But whatever he was going to say was cut short.
“You half-cocked piece of crap,” Molly Gregor yelled from the shadows. “Get the hell away from my captain.”
A bolt of lightning shot out across the soldiers, missing General Saint, but dropping a half dozen men to the ground and throwing the entire stand off into a scattering of chaos. Miss Dupuis had Joonie’s lightning gun.
“Fire!” the general yelled.
His men lifted their weapons.
Like a house of cards collapsing, everything seemed to fall in quick succession.
Three men turned to fire on Molly and Miss Dupuis. Cedar could count the bullets, could see Molly duck out from cover into the spray, her rifle steady as she took aim at the general’s head.
“Molly,” Cedar yelled, “no!”
Three men aimed at Cedar and Wil.
Wil was faster, taking out two with two bullets: throat and eye.
Cedar ran, Hink still over his shoulder, weighing him down, firing as he pounded for cover, not at the man aiming at him, but at the soldiers aiming at Molly.
Miss Dupuis was behind Molly, grim and calm, the lightning gun spent and the revolver in her hand blasting shot after shot.
Cedar couldn’t stop the bullets heading to Molly. Miss Dupuis couldn’t pull her away in time.
Molly pulled the trigger on her rifle to kill General Saint.
She shuddered, bullets tearing through her. She fell. But got one shot off.
Her bullet sped toward General Saint’s head.
And blew right through the middle of his forehead and out the back of his skull.
He crumpled to the ground.
The Swift was too far gone to help. Every soldier in the compound was running over here with loaded guns.
Where were Guffin and Seldom?
They would not survive this. None of them.
They didn’t have guns enough, didn’t have cover enough, didn’t have time enough.
But Cedar wouldn’t leave Molly here to die alone.
As each foot fell, as Wil fired beside him, matching his pace, taking out men, he knew the escape they ran toward became more and more unlikely with each heartbeat.
They had lost this fight before they had jumped rope off the ship.
Molly lay on the ground, facing the sky, bleeding. Miss Dupuis had had to fall back for cover, and couldn’t get close enough to drag Molly toward her.
Cedar caught a glimpse of Seldom, pinned down by gunfire behind a stack of crates.
Seldom looked across the smoke and fire, saw him with Hink across his shoulder. Cedar met his gaze. He didn’t know if the captain would make it. Didn’t know if Molly still breathed.
Even across the bloody field, Seldom seemed to understand.
“What are you thinking, brother?” Wil asked, his shoulder set tight against the sideboard of the wagon they had ducked behind.
“I’m going to set Hink down. Then I’m going to go get Molly.”
“Good plan,” Wil said. “But mine’s better.” Wil ducked around the wagon and ran for Molly.
Cedar starting swearing and took aim on the men who rose up to fire on his brother.
He had six shots and made them all count.
Wil bent, smoke shifted to cover his exact whereabouts. But he’d have to stand to get Molly out of there. And he’d be an easy target.
“Damn hot-blooded idiot,” Cedar cursed. “I will not watch you die again.”
He shifted so he could lower Captain Hink.
The roar of an engine right over his head drowned out the sound of gunfire and threw chunks of debris everywhere. Then that ship let loose a glass globe. Pretty. Familiar. Green with a silver cap to it.
When that globe hit the ground it shattered. Wasn’t anything more than instinct that made Cedar close his eyes and turn away. Good thing he did too. The flash of light that exploded from the globe was unholy bright white tinged with the strange green of glim. The combination was so bright it blinded.
Men cried out, unable to see, unable to shoot.
Cedar squinted, his vision foggy and fouled even though he’d had his eyes screwed tight.
Walking across the field, with another green globe in one hand and a tinkered blunderbuss in the other, dark goggles firmly over his eyes, was Alun Madder.
Above him hovered a wooden airship that resembled a child’s top with fans stuck out every which way.
Bryn Madder leaned out the door of the thing and cranked a Gatling gun into the crouching soldiers.
Cadoc Madder was standing in a basket that had been lowered from the ship, laying down fire in the opposite direction.
They were all wearing dark goggles and were likely the only people on this rock who still had clear enough vision to shoot.
Alun looked over at Cedar. “Evening, Mr. Hunt,” he yelled over the gunfire. “Got a message from Captain Beaumont you might be in the area. Have you found the Holder for us yet?” He smashed the globe into the ground and another painfully blinding light flashed out.
Men screamed.
Cedar growled at the pain of the light, even through his eyelids. “Can’t find something blind,” he yelled.
Alun laughed. “Don’t expect you’d need your eyes for that. Still…”
Another flash went off, and this one wasn’t just light. This one was dynamite. Cedar’s ears cracked with the sound, and rocks and dirt slammed through the air.
Then Alun was beside him, his hand on his arm. “I’ll get you to the basket. Then we can talk about your promise to us aboard ship. Shall we?”
“Wil,” he said. “He’s got Molly.”
“Already have them on the way to the basket. The men with Miss Dupuis too. You’re the only one left out here worth saving, Mr. Hunt. You and whoever that is you’re wearing as a neck warmer.”
“Shunt’s here.” Cedar jogged blind, with only Alun’s rough hand on his elbow guiding him forward.
“Did you kill him?”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe you’ll get your chance. First, you’ll need eyes. Step up.”
Cedar lifted his foot and stood up onto a wooden platform.
“Mr. Hunt,” Cadoc Madder said by way of greeting. “Good night for flying. Find the Holder?”
“Don’t have it on me,” Cedar said.
“Not a yes, nor a no,” he noted.
“Make her fast, brother Cadoc,” Alun said. “They’ll be finding their eyes, and their trigger fingers any moment now.”
The floor beneath him jerked, and the wind rushed by his face as some kind of pulley system lifted them up to the ship.
It took a surprisingly short time to be level with the interior of the ship, and the light inside made it easier to see.
“I am so pleased you were able to find us,” Miss Dupuis said.
“Got your message by way of Captain Beaumont,” Alun said. “He passes his regards to you.”
Seldom and Guffin helped Cedar get Hink off his shoulders and set down onto the floor next to Molly.
“Where’s the Swift?” Cedar asked.
“She’s anchored on the other side of the ridge,” Alun said, as he helped secure the basket, and stomped off to the front of the vehicle. “Busted up pretty bad. Don’t know how long she’ll stay in the sky.”
“We need Mae,” Cedar said. “She has medicines that might help Molly and Hink.”
“Molly’s gone,” Seldom said softly.
Cedar closed his eyes a moment, and swallowed against the sorrow. She had been a fine woman. It had been her word, the Gregor word, that had convinced Captain Hink to help them.
He had thought he could get to her in time, but he had failed her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“What we need,” Alun said as he guided the ship, which moved a lot faster,
and seemed to take much sharper turns than most ships, “is the Holder, Mr. Hunt.”
“I think Shunt has it,” Cedar said.
Wil, who was taking a swig out of the canteen Miss Dupuis had handed him, put the canteen down and gave him a hard look. The same look Miss Dupuis and all the Madders were giving him.
“Are you sure?” Wil asked.
“Smelled it on him. Heard its song.”
“You hear it?” Wil asked.
“Don’t you?”
“No. Not really. It’s more like…a feeling of heat or cold, and that strange glow each piece gives off.”
“You think they glow?” Cedar asked.
“Think nothing,” Wil said. “They do glow.”
“Sounds like each of you has your own way of tracking Strange objects,” Alun said. “I don’t care how it’s tracked, I just want it found. Now.”
“Take us to the Swift,” Cedar said.
“Is the Holder on the Swift?” Alun asked, his words hard with challenge.
“Not all of it. Not yet.”
“Sounds like you have a plan, Mr. Hunt?”
“Might. But we’ll need the Swift.”
“Then you’ll have her. Hold fast. I’m going to open her up.”
The Madder brothers scrambled to hold tight to bars and ropes, and the rest of the crew did the same, as Alun Madder worked the levers and gears of his strange flying device and blasted them through the night sky at breathtaking speed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Mae pulled her hands away from Mr. Theobald, wiping his blood on her dress. She had done everything she could for him. Everything she could think of doing through the yelling of the sisters’ voices, through the rattling of gunshots, the boiler being shot in half by the cannon, taking Mr. Theobald’s life.
Joonie had helped her drag him out of the ruined boiler room where they’d suffered the most damage. Mae tried to tend his injuries, but he was missing a great deal of the right side of his torso.
She whispered a prayer for his soul’s gentle passage.
Joonie was on her knees, crying beside him. Mae placed her hand on Joonie’s shoulder in comfort for a while, then stood.
She walked over to Mr. Ansell. “Are we going down, Mr. Ansell?”
“The envelope will hold for a few hours at the most,” he said. “We have no boiler, so no steam. Throw the anchor, Miss Lindson, or we’ll be crushed against these mountains.”
Mae made her way to the anchor and pulled the linchpin, releasing the anchor. They seemed to drift for a long time, too long, before finally, the anchor caught hold and stopped them.
“What about the others?” Joonie asked, picking herself up finally and wiping her face. “We’ve got to go back and get them out of there.”
Ansell turned, his round face grim. “We don’t have power, Miss Wright. We don’t have steam. We can’t go back. There is nothing we can do to help them. So we wait for them to find us in the next couple hours. If not, we’ll let air out of the envelope, slow as we can, bring the ship down, and walk out of these hills.”
“But Rose—,” Mae started.
Ansell just pressed his lips together, shaking his head, and turned away.
Rose couldn’t walk, and the three of them couldn’t carry her. If they brought the ship down, she’d have to be left behind.
They were no longer the rescuers. They were in sore need of being rescued.
“Mae?” Rose said softly.
Mae jerked. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, the sisters’ voices filling her thoughts, but Ansell was now sitting staring out the fore windows and Miss Wright was staring out the aft. Someone had pulled a blanket over Mr. Theobald and moved him to one side of the space.
Mae rubbed her hands down her dress and walked over to Rose, her boots strangely loud in the quietly rocking ship.
“I’m here,” Mae said.
Rose opened her eyes. “Maybe I could help,” she said. “Fix the boilers?”
Mae took her hand. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do. Any of us, right now.”
“Ship coming,” Joonie said. “Straight over from the compound.”
Ansell jumped up and jogged over to peer out the window. “What kind of thing is that?”
Joonie bit her lip and shook her head. “Nothing I’ve seen before. Wait. That’s glim light in glass. A single globe high. It’s okay, Mr. Ansell. That’s a friendly ship.”
“Lots of people can get their hand on glim,” Ansell said, pulling a gun down from the overhead storage.
Joonie put her hand on his arm. “It’s a signal among the people I work for. Miss Dupuis knows it.”
“You think she’s aboard?”
“She must be.”
The sound of fans grew louder as the ship neared.
“There!” Joonie said. “That’s Mr. Hunt.”
Mae’s heart lurched. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath, wondering if he was alive.
“We’re coming aboard!” he yelled, from where he hung half out of the craft.
Ansell strode over to the door. “Is the captain alive? We lost the boiler.”
“He’s alive,” Cedar yelled. “Stand back while we secure the ship.”
Ansell got out of the doorway. A cannon boomed, and ropes fell like rain around the ship. No, not rain, it was a net with weighted bolos on the edges catching at the ship.
Clever.
Ansell stepped up to the door and latched the net onto the hooks worked into the frame. Then he tied two extra lines from the netting to bars inside the ship. The net formed a sort of rope walkway between the two vessels.
Mae shifted so she could see out the door. Cedar Hunt strode into the room, bloody, burned, but whole, and Mae felt as if she’d just seen the sun rise.
Then Bryn Madder strode in behind him, his tool belt and pockets bulgy with metal and devices, his goggles strapped across his forehead. “Heard there’s a blown gasket or two?” he said. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Back that way,” Cedar said.
“You know him?” Ansell asked, eyeing the bull-shouldered short Madder.
“Yes. And he’ll treat the ship right, Mr. Ansell.” Cedar paced over to Mae.
“And the captain?” Ansell asked.
“He’s still breathing, but hurt badly,” Cedar said. “Mae, can you help him?”
“The captain?” she asked. “I can try. Of course. But I won’t leave Rose. Cedar, we can’t leave her behind.”
Cedar’s eyes went hard. “Who said we’re going to leave her behind?”
“I…” Mae looked around the room. Someone had said it. Surely they had. But she couldn’t remember. There were too many voices in her head, too many words screaming at her, pulling at her.
Cedar’s hand gently touched her face. “…need you to stay with us, Mae. Just a bit longer.”
She blinked hard, trying to focus on him. His touch, his words. “I’m fine,” she said. “What do I need to do?”
“I need you to tend to the captain.”
“Bring him here,” she said.
“Mae, the ship isn’t steady. It’d be better if you came over to the Madders’ craft. Better if we all boarded their ship.”
She heard him, his voice a low rumble beneath the sisters’ constant shriek. But he wasn’t listening to her.
“Captain Cage needs to be here,” Mae said, not sure that her voice was rising above the sisters’. “He needs to be on the Swift. He’s tied to her. Bound because I bound him, tied him. His ship’s dying. He’s dying.”
Ansell muttered something, but Cedar must have heard her and understood. “I’ll bring him. Stay here with Rose.”
Then Mr. Alun Madder was suddenly strolling across the ship toward her.
“How’s Miss Small?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.
“Fine as wine,” Rose whispered.
Alun looked down at her and gave her a smile. “Just lying around when there’s a shi
p to be flown? That’s not like you, Rose.”
“I offered to fix it,” she said slowly, her words falling off at the end of each breath. “Mae said no.”
“And you listened?”
“Just haven’t argued yet,” Rose managed. Then her face screwed up in pain and she bit her lip, her moan thin and high. Even the blood that trickled from her lip was tinged with gray.
“Mrs. Lindson,” Alun said, “if you have a way of making Mr. Hunt find that piece of Holder, then now’s the time for him to do so. She won’t last the hour.”
There was a ruckus of boots and grunting as Cedar, Wil, and Seldom carried Captain Cage into the ship and laid him down on the blankets near Rose’s hammock.
Someone had taken the time to wipe most of the blood from his face, but there was no hiding the hole where his right eye should be, nor the burned star in his forehead.
“I’ll need my satchel,” Mae said, walking over, then kneeling next to the captain. “Someone check his limbs and torso for wounds.” She ran her fingers over his neck, his head, and then looked at both his ears.
He had lost the eye. His face was burned, bruised. But he still had one eye, his tongue, both ears, and his nose.
Seldom split the buttons on the captain’s shirt and spread it open. His entire chest was bruised and knotted, with black, green, and sickly yellows spread out across his skin.
“Bullet hole in one leg,” Seldom said. “Broken arm. I don’t see blood except his face.”
“That’s good, thank you, Mr. Seldom.” She took her satchel from Cedar and soaked a cloth with the coca leaf tonic, then pressed that against his eye socket and did the same for the brand in his forehead. She quickly bandaged his head, and then wrapped his ribs, in hopes they weren’t so broken that they were cutting up his insides.
She put his arm in a sling and soaked another cloth with the coca leaf to tie down tight over both sides of the hole in his leg.
He didn’t wake. He didn’t stir. But he was breathing.
“That’s all,” she said, trying to think through the call of the sisters, the incessant push for her to return to the coven, to walk, run, jump the ship if she had to. “That’s all I can do for him. If the ship can be patched, any at all, it might help him.”
“Bryn’s working on it,” Cedar said.
