Stephen leaned back and tugged at the bit of hair beneath his lip. He studied her as if coming to a conclusion inside his head. “No, Kat,” he said a moment later. “You’re wrong.” He dropped his hand and leaned forward. “You’re not a monster. A monster would not have saved this ship. A monster would not have saved me from that bullet back in Covenshire.”
Kat shook her head. “That’s not necessarily true. Maybe I saved you so that you could help me find Dr. Latimer. And saving the ship was simply self-preservation.”
“Is that what you were thinking during those moments?”
Kat thought back. No. She cared about Stephen, so she had stopped the bullet. And she didn’t want to see any more people die, so she had chosen to land the airship. She searched his face and realized he already knew the answer. Her lip began to quiver. Perhaps there had been a time when he had thought she was a monster, but no longer. At that realization, something shifted inside her heart, like a flower blossoming in the morning light.
He waved his hand. “No matter what you were, it doesn’t excuse how I treated you. In my mind, you and Vanessa were the same. Vanessa lied to me, and therefore I thought you had lied as well when I heard about the bounty. I was angry, and in my anger, I chose to turn you in.” He looked away, a pained expression across his face. “I convinced myself that I was doing this for your good, that you would find help for your condition at the Tower. But deep down, I did it because of my hatred toward Vanessa. And that hatred tainted every part of my being until I could not see clearly: that you were, in fact, innocent.”
“Stephen . . .” Kat whispered. One tear, then another rolled down her cheeks.
Stephen continued to look straight ahead, his face tight. “It was my assistant, Jerod, who forced me to realize what I had done, what I had become. I was bitter through and through. Once I realized this, what my bitterness had cost me, I couldn’t leave you there at the Tower. I had to rescue you from the place I had sent you to, no matter the cost. And when I found you in that lab . . .” He clenched his hand and visibly swallowed. “What kind of man does that to his daughter?”
More tears flowed across her face. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. Stephen was right. What kind of man did that to his own daughter, even if she was a monster?
Stephen looked over. “Kat, I know I said this already, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for what I did to you.” He reached over and held his hand above her clasped fingers. When she didn’t move, he brushed the tops of her knuckles, then gently took her right hand and turned it over. “I cannot undo what I have done, but I aim to try. I will never let that happen to you again. I will protect you with everything I have, including my life.” He ran a finger along the inside of her palm up to her fingertip.
A gentle breeze blew through the broken bulkhead, bringing with it a salty, sweet scent. How she wished they could stay like this. But Stephen couldn’t make promises like that, not when he didn’t know everything about her. About the darkness that lived inside her or the numbness taking over. Stephen wasn’t the only tainted one. She pulled her hand away and held it to her chest. “But you don’t know what I am, what I have done.”
“Yes, I do. You just told me about the fire.”
“But there is more. That wasn’t the first time I lost control. One time . . . I almost hurt Ms. Stuart.”
Stephen sat back, but didn’t say anything, so Kat continued. He needed to know everything, even if it pained her to say it. “So far I’ve been able to pull back from the power inside me, or I’ve passed out from the overwhelming intensity of it. But there might come a point where I can’t stop it. Someday this power might take over, and I fear what I will become.” Her voice had dropped down to almost a whisper. “You saw what I did to those men back at the inn. I can do things—terrible things—more than just set fires and . . .”
“Remember when you walked into my office?”
Kat stopped and looked up.
Stephen gave her a serious look. “I said I would help you find Dr. Latimer. I stand by my word. Together we will find this doctor, and he will heal whatever it is your father did to you. In the meantime, I will help you control this . . . this . . . whatever this is.”
Kat worked her jaw, her eyes shimmering with more tears. “I don’t know if he can, Stephen. What was done to me was done before I was born. And now . . .” She looked away. “I think I’m dying. On the inside.”
“We are all dying, all the time. That’s part of growing old.”
“No, not like that.” Kat hesitated. She licked her lips as she stared at the wall ahead. She knew her soul was dying. And if it completely died before she reached Dr. Latimer, someone needed to know what was happening to her. “I-I need to show you something.” Her fingers rose and she fumbled with the top button of her blouse.
Stephen frowned. “Kat, what are you doing?”
She ignored him and undid the next one. She did the third one, then pulled back the fabric above her corset. She pointed at her bare skin. “I can’t feel my heart anymore.”
His eyes went wide before he glanced away and swallowed, a red hue creeping up his neck.
Kat blushed, but she was determined to show him. So she removed the bedspread and swung her legs around. Thankfully she was still fully dressed, although damp, save for her boots, which were standing next to the bed. She made her way over to the broken glass near the bulkhead and picked up a shard, then walked back to the bed and sat down near Stephen.
“Here, let me show you.”
Stephen looked back, his cheeks a dark hue.
Kat brought the shard up and ran the sharp point across her exposed skin.
“What the—” Stephen lunged forward. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand back. Blood trickled from the incision above her corset. “What in the blazes are you doing, Kat?”
Kat looked down at the wound. “I can’t feel that. I can’t feel anything. Ever since my time at the Tower, the area around my heart has become numb. It happened the other times I lost control, but feeling would come back. This time . . . it has not.” Panic laced her voice. “And it’s starting to affect my emotions as well. As if all of me is turning numb inside and out. I keep having these dreams where this voice tells me—” Her voice hitched and she dropped the glass shard. It hit the floor and shattered.
Stephen took a deep breath and brought her hand down, cradling it between both of his. “What does the voice say?”
Kat took a shaky breath. “It says I’m dying. It tells me that over and over again. Maybe I am?” She gave a small laugh, then a hiccup. “After all, my father was working on corpses, for what reason I know not. He said unlocking death would bring true power, and he said I was the culmination of his work. So maybe . . .” She shrugged.
His hand felt hot against her cold fingers. Stephen gently probed beneath her wrist and pressed between the tendons.
He paused, then looked up. “Maybe you can’t feel your heart, but I can, right here.” He rubbed the area with his fingers, then paused over her pulse again.
Kat let out a small laugh. “Of course I still have a beating heart, or else I wouldn’t be alive.” Or would she? Was she some kind of walking undead? She mentally shook her head at the image. “I just don’t understand why I can’t feel my heart here.” She pulled her hand away from Stephen’s and pressed her palm against the wound. “How can I not feel my own skin or this cut?”
Stephen let out a long breath. “I don’t know. But hopefully this Dr. Latimer does. One step at a time, all right?”
She nodded. His eyes lowered to the blood on her chest. “And we should take care of that scratch.”
Kat looked down and curled her fingers over the wound. “I’m afraid I was a bit impulsive.” Her cheeks grew warm again. “But I wanted someone to know what’s going on just in case . . .”
“Just in case what?”
“I don’t know. This . . . thing . . . inside me, it’s changing me. And if I change—if I don’t remembe
r who I am anymore, if I become someone completely different—I wanted to let you know so you can tell Dr. Latimer, if you find him. He will need to know everything if he is to help me. If—” She let out a long sigh. “If he can help me.”
“Remember, one step at a time.”
“One step. And Stephen?”
“Yes?”
If Stephen could have the courage to tell her he was sorry, then she could reciprocate. “I forgive you.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“I forgive you for taking me to the Tower.”
“I—” He sat back. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I say we start over. Fresh slates. All right?” Just by saying those words, a burden lifted from her shoulders. Somehow the jumbled knot of their relationship was loosened by those simple phrases. There was still work ahead for them, but they were on the right path again.
Stephen straightened and gave her a firm nod. “Yes, I would like that very much. Oh, and I have good news. Robert thinks he might know where Dr. Latimer could be.”
Kat leaned forward, then realized her blouse was still unbuttoned. She turned away and clutched the front of her shirt. “Really?” she said as she worked the loops, her face as hot as a stove. Impulsive indeed.
“Yes. He’s somewhere in Austrium serving with the World City military as a doctor.”
Her shoulders slumped as she did the last button. Thankfully she had only scratched her skin with the glass shard, but she would need to see to the wound soon and do something about the stain. “Austrium is a big country. How will we find him?” Kat glanced back.
Stephen’s face was firm. “I’m not sure yet, but it’s more information than we had before. We will find him, Kat.” He clenched his hand. “And we will find a cure for you.”
A cure. Hope burgeoned inside of her like a small ray of light. Was it possible she might actually become normal? That was all she wanted. A chance to be normal. Kat closed her eyes. More and more she found herself petitioning God. Maybe he heard her, maybe he didn’t. But she would ask anyway.
Please, God. Let us find a cure.
Chapter
13
After Stephen left, Kat used a small cloth to cover the scratch, using her corset to keep it in place and cover up the stain, then pulled her hair back, straightened her clothing, and put her boots on. Her stomach gave a loud rumble, reminding her she had not eaten in two days. She pressed her hand against her abdomen and headed for the door behind her.
Bright sunlight pierced her vision the moment she stepped out onto the main deck, and the rays warmed her damp clothing. She held a hand to her eyes and glanced around. The sailors of the Lancelot had not been idle while she had been unconscious. The broken mast and rotor had been removed and most of the floor had been repaired with spare planks from the hold. There was still a hole near the middle of the deck, and rope had been secured around it so no one would fall through.
The sound of hammers filled the air. Kat looked around. Two sailors stood on the top deck, repairing the railing. Bright white clouds filled the sky above them.
Beyond the ship, she spotted more sailors in the distance and the wisps from a morning fire. Dunes and light green grass spread across the land to her left, and the Narrow Strait lapped against jagged rocks to her right. On closer inspection, she realized with relief that she had missed the rocks when she had landed the Lancelot on the dunes. Good thing, considering how much damage those serrated stone teeth could have done to the ship.
Her stomach rumbled again. Kat looked around. Where would Fitz be? Her gaze landed on the fire across the dunes. It was as good a place as any, and maybe she would find something to break her fast.
Kat found the opening along the railing and a rope ladder attached to the deck. She made her way down the side of the ship and jumped the last two feet onto the sandy shore.
A bang erupted to her right, followed by a shout and low growls and words. Captain Grim stood by the side of the ship, gripping one hand with his other one. At least she thought it was Captain Grim. A set of brass goggles with three lenses fanned out above the ocular lens and a set of gears on the side obscured much of his face. He glanced over, noticed Kat, and released his injured fingers. He twisted one of the gears, which moved a fourth lens, then pulled the goggles up from his face.
Soot and dirt covered his skin except where the goggles had been. As usual, a black patch covered his right eye, adding to the piebald effect, but any thought of amusement left Kat as she encountered his single icy blue gaze. They studied each other as seconds ticked by. Did the captain know what she had done? Of course he did. He would have noticed his ship miraculously landing itself instead of smashing to smithereens, and all without his guidance. That, and Stephen had probably told him.
He dropped his gaze and brushed his hands across his pants. “Looking for Stephen?”
It appeared he wasn’t interested in talking about what happened. Kat let out a small breath. That suited her. “Actually, I’m looking for Fitz.”
Grim nodded toward the curl of smoke. “Over by the fire.”
He pulled his goggles down and went back to digging around in the gap in Lancelot’s hull. Conversation done.
Kat headed toward the fire, her boots occasionally slipping in the sand. As she drew closer, she caught the scent of porridge and her stomach gave another rumble, leaving her light-headed.
Fitz stood beside the fire, stirring the contents of a black pot that hung from a makeshift tripod over the flames. He looked up and smiled, beckoning with his hand for Kat to come over.
“Glad to see you up and about. That storm really took it out of you.” He reached for a metal bowl from the stack at his side. “Hungry?”
“Very,” Kat said, clutching her middle.
Fitz scooped out some of the grainy cereal and handed the bowl to her with a metal spoon. “Cooking outside for a change. The galley wasn’t damaged, but sometimes a man needs to be outdoors.” He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “Something about clean air.”
Just then the wind shifted, wafting a puff of smoke Fitz’s way and sending him into a fit of coughing. Kat laughed, then blew across the cereal and took a bite. “But isn’t the air always clear up in the sky?”
Clearing his throat, Fitz sat down on one of the boulders nearby. “Depends on where we’re sailing. The air above World City could choke a man to death.”
That made sense, with all the factories and smokestacks. Kat continued to eat, watching Fitz as he enjoyed the morning sunshine, the light bouncing off his bald head.
As she scraped the bowl, Fitz opened his eyes. “Would you like some more?”
“Yes, thank you.” She handed him the bowl and he refilled it, then handed it back. This time she ate slower.
“So how are you feeling? That was quite a fall you took during the storm.”
Is that what they were saying happened to her? She held her spoon above her bowl. “Better, I believe.”
“Good. You’re lucky you survived. Mickey wasn’t so lucky. Heard he fell from the ship during the storm.” Fitz’s shoulders drooped as he turned his attention to the black pot.
Mickey? Was he the sailor who’d come to help her? Kat remembered watching the skinny young man slip out the broken bulkhead and the terror on his face. A twinge of sadness stirred inside her, but nothing more.
Fitz removed the pot from the tripod with a set of thick mitts and placed it on the boulder he had been sitting on moments ago. “The repairs are almost done on the Lancelot. Enough to get us to our rendezvous point with our contacts in Austrium, at least. Hopefully there the captain can find a way to repair the main mast. I heard that you and Grey will be staying on here in Austrium.”
Kat looked up. “We’re in Austrium already?”
“Yep, landed on a small island close to the coast. That was some amazing flying on the part of the captain.” Fitz eyed her. “Best flying he’s ever done.”
Did he suspect something?
Fitz sat down by the pot and wiped his forehead. “Well, in some ways they are similar to us. Advanced in technology, their industry is booming, and their food is excellent.” He gave her a wink at that. “However, their country is three times the size of World City and the surrounding principalities. More farms and open space, whereas the World City population is confined to cities and the few spots along the coast.”
“What about the people?”
Fitz shrugged. “Like most places, you have your good and your bad. They are more into fashion and the arts than World City. If you ever make it to Emberworth, you’ll have to visit the Parthia Cathedral. The most amazing paintings you will ever find.”
“You’ve been to Austrium?”
Fitz laughed. “Of course I have. We used to do a lot of business with Austrium before the war. That’s one of the reasons Captain Grim hired on as a privateer for World City. He knows these skies better than most.”
“Do you miss visiting Austrium?”
The smile faded from Fitz’s face. “I do. This war makes no sense. There is very little for Austrium to gain by invading World City if it ever comes to that. In fact, I would say World City has more to gain. Especially land, the one thing we are lacking. Anyway”—he waved his hand—“I need to get the dishes washed and the salted beef soaking for dinner tonight.”
“Would you like some help?” Kat had never done housework before. Ms. Stuart always took care of the household chores back home, and the hired maids handled all domestic affairs in the Tower dormitories. But she would do anything right now if it could keep her busy and her mind off her numbing heart. That, and she didn’t want to be alone.
Awakened Page 8
