by Becca Andre
“Now that’s saying something.” Zach turned his attention to Bramble’s harness. “He’s been smitten with you since we first wandered onto your boat.”
She laughed, well aware of that fact. “That birthday made a bigger impact on him than one day should.”
“Happens that way, I’ve observed.” Zach’s tone turned philosophical, though he kept his eyes on his work. “You’ll be going along, same as ever and bam, things change. It’s like you suddenly see things different.”
She glanced at him. “You thinking of going into the fishing lure business, too?”
He chuckled. “Nah, that’s Benji’s dream.”
She watched him work, his fingers moving across the buckles with an ease born of years of experience.
“What’s your dream?” she asked.
He glanced up, his blue eyes meeting hers before turning back to his work. “I can’t say as I have one, but for the first time in years, I can allow myself to entertain such thoughts.” Mute and scarred after the fire that had decimated his family, Zach hadn’t had a lot of options open to him.
“What sorts of thoughts—if you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t mind.” He paused in his work, though he didn’t look at her. “I was thinking about getting some schooling. Grayson’s been helping me with my letters.” A faint blush darkened his tanned cheeks. “Ma and Pa couldn’t read and didn’t put a whole lot of value on it as long as we could run the boat and sell cargo. Pa was good with numbers, of course, so we never got cheated, but…”
He straightened, seeming to catch himself. “Listen to me ramble on.” He chuckled and returned to his work. “I thought I might look into some schooling, once Benji is raised.” He looked up. “But don’t worry. Your drivers ain’t going nowhere, Captain.”
“I’m not worried, but I do feel bad that I never made an effort to teach you. I didn’t realize you wanted to learn.”
“To be honest, it’s something of a recent interest.”
“Because of Grayson? Goodness knows he makes me feel like a country bumpkin more often than I’d like to admit.”
Zach smiled at her phrasing. “Partially, but it was more his ferra friend, Esme.”
“Oh?”
Zach rubbed the back of his neck. “She was an attractive woman, and that got me to thinking about how miserable I would be if I fancied her. Someone that intelligent and well-educated—she wouldn’t look twice at a man like me.”
“Not to speak ill of the dead, but she saw everyone as beneath her. Even Grayson. It wasn’t—”
“I know. I’m not saying I wanted to impress her, but being around a woman like that made me very aware of my shortcomings.”
“Zach—”
“Don’t come to my defense, Captain. You know it’s true. People like Esme, and even Grayson, they move in a whole different world than me—and I’m not talking about the magic. Someday, I would like to be able to hold a conversation with a person like that—and understand them.”
She smiled at the determination that had entered his tone. “I admire you, Zach. It takes courage to admit a shortcoming and then do something about it.”
“Thank you.”
“But I do wish you’d hurry up with the schooling,” she added. “I need help deciphering Esme’s journal.”
Zach glanced over. “Do you really think you’ll find the answers you’re looking for in there?”
“No, but it beats doing nothing.” She reached up and scratched Bramble’s forehead, and the mule released a contented sigh. Ah, for life to be so simple.
Zach started to speak, then looked past her, a puzzled frown on his face.
Briar turned to see Perseus standing a few feet away. She noted with unease that he’d donned his weapons belt.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“You have visitors, my lady.” He dipped his chin at the honorific. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to let the ferra thing go, no matter how many times she asked him to call her by name.
“Visitors?” she asked, stepping away from the mules so she could better see the boat. “Who—” She didn’t finish her question as the answer became obvious.
“Hello, Bridget,” Andrew greeted her.
Chapter 3
Andrew stood a few feet away from where the gangplank rested on the dock. He wasn’t going aboard. Not with Kali blocking his path.
Briar took a step toward him, but stopped when she saw Mr. Owens standing behind Andrew.
Owens looked her over, making no effort to be discreet. When his eyes returned to hers, he was smiling.
“What do you want, Andrew?” she demanded. “Shouldn’t you be polishing Solon’s toenails or some such?”
A muscle ticked in Andrew’s jaw. “I have been charged with the responsibility of seeing that Mr. Martel arrives in Portsmouth by the appointed time.”
“If you think you’re going to ride on my boat, you can think again. And before you bring up your new powers, know that I do have the means to stop you.”
“That’s true,” Perseus spoke up from behind her.
“Solon’s not going to care if I bump off a few of his soulless servants,” she continued. “I have what he wants.” Technically, Solon wanted Grayson and her, but she didn’t go into that. She didn’t care a lick about pleasing or displeasing Solon, but she loved to bait Andrew. His clenching hands made it clear that the taunt had worked.
“I have no need of a ride,” Andrew said. “I will be traveling by rail—in a private car.”
“Briar?” Grayson crossed the gangplank to join her. Stopping at her side, his hand came to rest on the small of her back. “Do I get to harvest some soul iron?”
It was satisfying to watch Andrew take a step back.
Briar didn’t answer Grayson’s question. She decided to let Andrew stew about that. “If you’re not going to force your company on me, then what do you want?” she asked her cousin.
“As I said, I’ve been charged with ensuring that you arrive in time.” He lifted a hand and allowed the rolled paper he held to fall open. It was her wanted poster.
With the other hand, Andrew gripped the top of the page and ripped the poster in half.
“I’ve paid the toll.” He let the pieces of paper fall to the ground. “I will meet you at the toll office in Canal Dover tomorrow afternoon.” Without another word, he walked away.
Owens caught Briar’s eye and made a show of tucking a folded paper in his pocket. A copy of her poster? She thought he might be threatening to hang it elsewhere if she failed to show. Then he gave her a lecherous smile, his gaze sweeping over her once more. No, he was keeping a copy of her poster for himself.
He turned to follow Andrew, and Briar allowed herself a shiver.
“Briar?” Grayson prompted, catching the movement.
“That Owens guy creeps me out.”
“Shall I take care of him?” A hint of ferromancer coolness entered his tone.
“I won’t be Liam’s assassin, and you won’t be mine.”
“Technically, he’s already dead. I won’t be killing anyone.”
“Tempting, but no. Let’s try to take the high road.”
“In a boat?” He grinned at her.
“Not the best analogy.”
Grayson chuckled.
Briar bent and picked up the torn pieces of paper. “At least it seems I’m no longer wanted.”
“By the law,” Grayson amended. “I still want you.”
Perseus chuckled before turning and heading back to the boat. Zach returned his attention to the mules, though he was smiling.
“Mr. Martel,” she complained.
He looked unabashed, a twinkle in his blue-gray eyes.
“I believe you have some pies to bake,” she reminded him.
“Yes, Captain.” He didn’t
stop smirking, but he did head for the boat.
Briar watched him go, finally allowing herself to smile.
After swapping out the team, they continued on, leaving Massillon behind. On a normal trip, they would have docked and spent the night in the canal town, but she needed to squeeze every mile they could out of each day. They might need the time later.
They docked outside the village of Navarre and secured the boat for the night. While the hobbled mules grazed beside the boat, they gathered in the aft cargo hold for the evening meal. The apple pie wasn’t the only pie on the menu. Grayson had incorporated the fish into what he called a fisherman’s pie, which Perseus assured them was rather common in Grayson’s part of the world.
The fish had been cooked in a savory white sauce and topped with a crust of mashed potatoes. No one protested the unusual dish, and they all dug in with enthusiasm. Her crew had never been picky eaters, but Briar was still amused by their willingness to try new things.
“We’ve certainly moved beyond beans and biscuits,” she said.
“If I’ve learned nothing else on this adventure,” Jimmy said with a grin, “it’s not to be prejudgin’ anything Miss Molly or Mr. Martel cook up for us.”
“Aye, that’s the truth,” Eli agreed, holding out his plate for another serving. Molly smiled in gratitude and transferred a large portion to his plate.
A pair of more traditional apple pies was brought out for dessert and consumed just as rapidly. Everyone would be sleeping well on full bellies tonight.
Briar retreated to the tiller deck after dinner, taking her lantern and Esme’s journal. She hoped to get in a little reading before bed—or that’s what she told herself. She couldn’t ignore the hope that Grayson might join her once the dishes were done.
Taking a seat on the deck with her back to the rail, Briar opened the journal and flipped over to the page she had bookmarked. Across the two pages was a detailed chart of the phases of devolution—as Esme called them.
The most disturbing feature was the timeline across the bottom of the page used to demarcate how quickly the various ferromancer talents devolved. Some could last almost a decade, where others, like the leon, were given between one year and two. Then there was the tick mark only a few months out. A question mark had been written beside the word drake.
Briar frowned at that single mark. Had Esme only been guessing, or did she have some basis for the amount of time she had given the drake to devolve? Dear God, if that was true, Grayson wouldn’t last into the new year.
“What troubles you, my lady?”
She looked up with a gasp and found Perseus standing over her. “You move very quietly.”
“Habit. I’m sorry if I startled you.” He moved closer. “Are you still reading Esme’s journal?”
“I’m not certain about reading, but I’m still staring at the words.” She turned the book toward him. “What do you make of this?”
He accepted the book, and to her surprise, took a seat beside her. He studied the pages for several minutes.
“Does it look accurate?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Even this?” She pointed to the drake designation on the timeline.
Perseus hesitated. “I’m afraid so, my lady.”
Briar pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust herself to speak at the moment.
Perseus turned the page. A few minutes’ study, and he turned another.
“Are you following any of that?” she asked.
“On a general level,” he answered, though his eyes remained on the page.
“Well, you got me beat.”
“I’ve been at this a little longer.”
“How long?”
He smiled but didn’t look up. “I will tell you if you insist, but I find it best to keep silent on that topic.”
She was sorely tempted to insist, but if it wasn’t something he readily shared, she wasn’t about to demand he tell her.
“Does it get lonely?” she asked.
“Yes. I find myself withdrawing from the world, refusing to establish close friendships.”
That certainly explained why Kali said he told her nothing and that he was barely here, as she’d phrased it.
He turned the page. “I even forgot how it felt to be oath bound—though this is a unique experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been bound to someone who isn’t ferra.”
“Look, I only agreed to that to keep Lucrezia from taking you. You’re welcome to dissolve it or whatever.”
“Only your death or mine can accomplish that.” He didn’t look up from the journal, not seeming overly concerned by that fact.
Briar stared at him. She remembered that he’d said he was hers until death, but she had thought it could be undone prior to that.
Perseus seemed to notice her silence and glanced over. “Do not look so stricken. I know you would never abuse the connection.”
“I don’t even know what this connection is.”
“My unwavering loyalty.”
She rubbed a hand over her face.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m glad I did it. I’ve missed being part of something greater than myself.”
“How does being bound to me give you that?”
He offered a small smile, then turned his head. She followed his gaze and saw Kali climb up from the cargo hold. She took a step toward them and stopped.
“What are you doing?” She glanced between them before her frown settled on Perseus. “I thought we were going to spar.”
“Me or him,” Briar teased, knowing she’d come to collect Perseus.
“Him, obviously,” Kali snapped. “You couldn’t keep up.”
“I might surprise you,” Briar shot back.
Perseus chuckled and patted her leg. “Kali is probably right, my lady. It’s one of the things Liam wanted me to train you in.”
“What are the others?” Briar asked.
“Weapons practice and how to dissolve soul iron.”
“She’s not Scourge,” Kali cut in. “Hell, she’s not even ferra—despite your insistence with the my lady bullshit.”
“Kali,” he began.
“Never mind.” She turned away from them. “You’re clearly busy. Maybe the drake will spar with me.” She didn’t wait for a response before she turned and dropped into the cargo hold.
“Perhaps you should go speak to her,” Briar suggested. “You told me why you avoid forming friendships, but have you ever told her?”
He frowned after Kali but didn’t answer.
“She clearly sees you as a friend, and I know it hurts her that you don’t seem to share that feeling.”
“It would be a mistake.”
Briar took a breath, ready to ask why, when the hatch thumped open and Grayson climbed out. He took a step toward them and stopped, perhaps noticing that she wasn’t alone.
Perseus closed the book and handed it to her. “Shall I stay and defend you against his advances?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” she answered.
Perseus laughed and got to his feet. “I suspected as much.”
She blushed at her own forwardness, but was still amused by Perseus’s more open personality. A product of his willingness to connect to her?
“In truth, there won’t be much advancing,” Grayson said. “Eli saw me climb up here.”
Perseus grunted. “Well, let’s not have a repeat of last time. I’ve been training him.”
Grayson chuckled. “Then I certainly don’t want to face him.”
Briar got to her feet as Perseus clapped Grayson on the shoulder. “Have you and Grayson made up?” she asked.
“We were never at odds,” Perseus told her.
“But you fought—rather viciously.”
“He was not acting of his own will.”
“He impaled you,” Briar reminded him.
“That healed, and I’m sure he’s already repaired the damage I did to him.”
“I have.” Grayson walked over to join her. “We’re fine.”
“All right. That’s good,” she relented.
Perseus offered her a small bow, then turned to go.
“Perseus?” she stopped him. “Take my advice?” she asked when he looked back.
“I will think on it.”
She nodded and watched him climb down into the cargo hold.
“What was that all about?” Grayson asked.
“He admitted that his long lifespan is a lonely one. To save himself the pain, he avoids close friendships. I pointed out that this tendency is hurting Kali.”
“Ah.” Grayson gazed after him a moment before turning to her. “How long a lifespan, did he say?”
“He preferred not share the details, and I didn’t press, but it sounds like he’s faced at least two dragons—since he used the plural—who weren’t his half brother.”
“So he’s seen at least three before me.” Grayson released a soft whistle. “Esme once told me that the last recorded drake was born in the seventeenth century. So if that gap of time holds true between drakes…”
“Dear God,” Briar whispered. “Perseus could be five or six hundred years old. Maybe more.”
“Sounds that way,” Grayson agreed.
It was her turn to stare in the direction Perseus had gone. “You don’t think he could be the original Perseus, do you?”
“Wouldn’t that make him, what, over three thousand years old?” A slight smile curled Grayson’s lips. “I very much doubt he’s that old.”
She laughed. “True.” What a foolish thought.
“So.” Grayson hesitated. “What did he want?”
Briar stopped to think about that. “I’m not sure. I asked him a question about Esme’s journal, and we got distracted. Maybe he didn’t want anything. He just came up here for a little quiet and found me.”
“It is a good place for a little quiet.” Grayson took a step closer.
Movement beyond him drew her attention, and she saw Eli and Jimmy climb up onto the stable deck. They crossed the catwalk to the roof of the bunkhouse, but didn’t immediately go inside.
