Chasm Walkers

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Chasm Walkers Page 15

by Raquel Byrnes


  “It is a different sort of weather, I will concede,” Ashton strode to the helm. “But we have been through many strange storms before. Remember the blood blizzards?” He cranked a brass wheel and the netting around the air ship’s balloon ballast creaked as he adjusted our height, skimming lower. “We will make it, I promise.”

  The railcar shuddered, rocked in blasts of wind, sending my middle into a flop. “Have you been here before?” I asked, grabbing onto the back of a dining booth with both hands.

  “As I said, I helped Professor Hunley to escape from Arecibo. Seems he took to ‘borrowing’ the scientific minds he needed without their consent.”

  “A page from Ajala’s book,” I commented, remembering the Reaper Commander who led the invasion of the city domes. “And the All-Key, what became of that?”

  Ashton cleared his throat, but did not answer. The All-Key, a weapon designed to infiltrate government security was what made the Reaper invasion possible. It was also the seed of his betrayal. His gaze met mine and a shadow passed behind his eyes. “We will touch down shortly,” he said instead. “See if you cannot locate some proper outer wear.”

  “Ashton.” I took a step towards him. “How did you find me? When no one else could?”

  “Do not fret, love. I will answer your questions, but not now.” The lightness to his voice sounded forced, belied by his death grip on the compass.

  “I need to know,” I pushed. “When Riley and all of his men tried and failed. How did you do it?”

  “Well, as a trained spy, I daresay my skill set was a bit more relevant.”

  “That is not an answer.”

  “Now is not the time, Charlotte.” He ground his jaw, his gaze forbidding.

  But I would not let it be, aware that my tendency to trust him despite my trepidation had gotten me into trouble in the past. What he’d done for me. How he’d stayed was noble, heroic even. It did not, however, change the fact that I had often been unsure of his motivation and allegiance in the past. “Ash…” I tried again, but he put his hand up, stopping me.

  “Please. I will answer your questions. Just let me get us out of this first.” The desperate plea on his face made me pause.

  I nodded, backing away from him slowly. “I will have my answers.”

  “You will.” Ashton said. “I will tell you everything. I promise.”

  I turned, striding down the train car toward the rooms, my heart stuttering. What was it that was so horrible he could not tell me now? I shook my head, frustrated once more with his secrets.

  The far room held all of the personal effects that had once belonged to Lizzie Frances. The original owner of the Stygian had used this ship to rescue me from the clutches of the Peaceful Union Soldiers once upon a time. I remembered shedding the pale silk and ribbons of my debutante life here and donning the garb that would later become the familiar dark cloak and skirts of the notorious Lady Blackburn, according to the news bulletins.

  Lizzie’s room held a strange collection of outlander garb for traversing the wastelands, goggles and helmets, dresses and skirts. Walking along the wall, the material slid soft and smooth between my fingers. Small photographs and books cluttered the shelves and tables of the bedroom. All of it was dusty and untouched since their owner’s death at the hands of the Reaper Commander with whom she had conspired to overthrow the government.

  For me, that battle was days ago, and yet as I waved my hand through a cobwebbed corner, I knew the years had indeed passed—even if I did not get to live them. Strange that Ashton kept this room. I wondered if he expected a need for it. My need for it. Again, I found myself merely guessing at his thoughts and feeling all the more estranged from him because of it.

  The dark skirts, bodice, and blouse Mara had given me still looked decent. I opted to take only a heavy, hooded cloak and gloves. Both leather, they would stand well against the wind and I donned them, flexing my fingers in the creaking material. One of Lizzie’s daggers stuck out from the wood panel wall, and I grabbed it, found the sheath, and tied it to the strap around my waist. A pair of goggles with several articulated lenses and knobs caught my eye near the door, and I reached for them, pulling them from the hook in the wall and nearly going down as the entire train car jolted.

  “Charlie, be careful,” Ashton called from the front.

  “What is wrong?” I screamed, holding myself upright in the doorway of the room with white-knuckled dread. “Why are we crashing?”

  “Our rudder is frozen. We are without steering.” The tension in Ashton’s voice set the hairs on my arms on end. “Hold on!”

  I gritted my teeth and rode out the jarring blows as a terrible scraping echoed along the train car floor. The jagged ice ripped at the vessel, tearing along the keel as we skidded over the craggy ground. How much could this ship take without breaking apart at the seams?

  Everything that was not nailed down rattled and toppled from its perch. Broken glass, dishes, equipment, and boots slid down the main walkway towards Ashton. I crawled through the debris. We dipped down again, bottoming out on a rise with a crash that sent the entire craft into a shudder. Ashton fought with the controls, ramming into the helm with every jolt. Beyond him, through the window, the white of the storm and vapors obliterated visibility.

  I squinted. “Can you see anything?”

  “Come here!” He turned, scooping me into his arms and wedging us into the corner between the helm and wall. His sword tumbled away, and I grasped for it, missing.

  “What are you doing? Why aren’t you steering?” I fought to reach the wheel, but he held me to his chest, his arms like metal bands.

  “There is no steering, Charlie. The cold snapped the cables.” Tension lined his features, and he hugged me tight. “We are going down.”

  I froze, the blood pumping in my ears too loud. A massive form emerged from the mists, its dark shape filling the window as we barreled towards it. I registered sharp angles and black rock. “We’re heading toward a—”

  We slammed into the face of the cliff, the balloon ballast erupting with a resounding blast that tore through the cabin. The metal frame of the airship groaned, the beams giving way as the train car hit second with tremendous force. Ashton’s arm shield flared open as he raised his arm, covering our heads.

  Fingers knotted in Ashton’s shirt, a ragged scream ripped from my throat as the blow threw us against the wall, and then all went black.

  18

  Deep vibrations moved through the cabin, pulling me out of the darkness. I blinked, aware of Ashton’s body wrapped around mine.

  The ship’s floor angled up and away in a strange direction. The entire vessel rested on the bow.

  A throbbing pain pierced my side, and I groaned and fought to untangle the cloak from my legs, struggling against gravity to move off of Ashton. “Ash,” I wheezed, trying to catch the breath knocked from my lungs. “Are you all right?”

  He stirred, moving beneath me, his lids fluttering open. His gaze traveled my face and body. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I—” A deafening crack pierced the air, and the vessel plummeted a few feet. Another lesser crackling skittered away from us, and my heart froze. “The ice…w-we are falling through the ice!”

  “Go,” He grimaced as he rose. He winced next to me as he yanked a piece of debris from his thigh.

  “Can you make it?” I gasped, eyeing the gash. “Can you climb?”

  “We must move, now!” Holding his hand out, he pulled me to my feet, fighting the tilt of the floor to the doorway.

  Through the window over the helm, cold vapor blew across the lake, revealing a shattered surface. Chunks of ice crashed and jostled against one another, grinding as they capsized and flipped in succession. We sank again and frigid water rushed through the broken glass.

  I gasped and staggered forward, my heart stuttering as the level rose ever higher and swallowed my boots. “Ash,” I cried, fear wrapping its stony fingers around my heart.

  “Eyes on the do
or, Charlie. Keep focused on the way out.” Ashton squeezed my hand in his, the look on his face determined. His shield folded back into his arm guard with a scraping metal sound. “We will get out in time.”

  We slogged upwards toward the doorway, my stomach tight with panic as the ship descended with every inch of ground we gained.

  I followed Ashton, reaching and pulling myself up to the opening by the counters and shelves. Frost crawled along the walls and windows, spreading out in jagged webs as it trailed up from the waters toward us.

  Ashton kicked the door free, and a rush of frosty wind blew over us, sending him into an instant shiver. Breath in white puffs, he climbed out, turned and reached for my hand.

  I scrambled out, slipping on the teetering ice at our feet.

  “Watch your step,” Ashton warned.

  A low rumbling, like a train, sounded all around. I turned, trying to see through the wind and mist. “What is that?”

  The airship jolted, plunging further. It sent a wave spilling up over the surface.

  I fell backward, my cloak flying as I landed, skidding across a section of ice toward the edge.

  “Charlie!” Ashton dove, catching me by the wrist.

  “Don’t let go,” I screamed as my feet went over the side. The floe tilted and the waves washed over my boots. “Don’t let me fall!”

  “I’ve got you.” Ashton staggered and then helped me to my feet. A sob bubbled up from my chest. He held my face with both hands, foreheads together as our hair whipped against my cheeks. “You are all right, my love. We made it out, see?”

  “Yes…” I nodded, trying to gather my wits and forcing my breath to slow. We stood on the wobbling ice sheet, my knees knocking. The howl of the wind snatched the low moans from my lips and I clenched my hand to my middle, riding out the wave of pain. The Trembling sickness symptoms worsened, sending wracking quakes along my back. Not now…please, not now.

  “There, do you see?” Ashton pointed, pulling me with him as we stumbled across the crevasses from section to section. “I believe that is the shore.”

  “Are you sure?” Again, the rumbling in the distance sounded, and I glanced around, squinting into the whirling cold mist sweeping across the ice. I pulled at the internal muscle, trying to engage the lens in my eye, but it would not budge. “I cannot see anything.”

  “Just keep moving. Don’t stop.”

  The floes tilted underfoot, throwing off my balance as I followed him. A trail of scarlet splashes from his injury flashed stark against the ice. He was losing so much, his limp ever more pronounced as we leapt across churning waters, slipping on the gum soles of our boots. The wind picked up. It whirled along the surface, thrashing my skirts and tresses and biting at the exposed skin of my face. The vapors overhead broke with the tumult, letting in shafts of sunlight that glinted off the lake and ice like flashes of lightning. Nearly blinded, I stumbled, hand up to shield my eyes. The glare of the sun painful once more, I swallowed against the fear squeezing my throat that the Trembling Sickness might overcome me in my weakness.

  Ashton stumbled up ahead and beyond him flashes of gold twinkled in the shifting light.

  The rumble grew to a roar, shaking the fragmented ground, the sound reverberating up my legs. The shroud of mists lifted revealing a massive wave of ice shards moving along the surface toward us. Like countless pieces of broken glass, the thin fragments of surface ice shifted over one another, their edges catching the sun as they tumbled on the waves and wind over the ice, the sound like a train rumbling toward us.

  Ashton skidded to a stop, going down on his heels.

  “What is that?” I gasped, flailing to reverse my stride, my boots squealing on the chunk of snow.

  “Stacking,” Ashton shouted. “Back…back the other way!”

  “What?”

  He staggered past me, snatching my hand and pulling me with him. “It is a warning,” he panted, as we flanked back towards the Stygian. “It means an ice storm is churning. The temperature will drop to below freezing in minutes.”

  “Ice storm?” I gasped. I’d heard of them. “The lake’s surface is breaking up?”

  “Yes, and the wind pushed the shards into an unstoppable wave. I have only read about it.” He glanced back over his shoulder and I would have sworn, despite the blue of his lips and the trembling of his hands, that a flash of fascination crossed his face.

  “Ice storms are deadly even in outlander gear!” I shouted, aware that we wore none. My boot caught on the edge of an ice chunk as I jumped and I went down, ramming my knees against the frigid surface. I caught sight of the wave of stacked ice churning, eating up the distance between us. Scrambling to my feet, my gaze flitted nervously to the sky as we ran and leapt, ran and leapt, from bobbing chunk to the next.

  Ashton went down, his leg shaking beneath him. The blood soaked through his pants leg, smeared on the ice as he struggled to rise.

  Heart in my throat, I wheezed, fighting to help him up. “Why now…where’s the storm?”

  “It’s coming. The broken lake waters and the wind…they’re all precursors to the wave of ice clouds that will sweep over us in minutes. We must find shelter or we’ll turn to ice as we run.” Ashton’s arm slipped around my waist and we lurched together, his face ashen, teeth chattering. “If I recall correctly, ice stacking always flows to shore.”

  “Then we are going in the right direction.” In my peripheral, the glint of light off the edges of the approaching shards made my mouth go dry with panic. It was gaining, the roar deafening now as the bitter wind snatched what warmth we had from us.

  We hit the shore, my feet sinking into the snow to my knees.

  Ashton fell over, flailing to walk. He groaned with each step, pain marring his features.

  “Go, Charlie,” he panted. “Head for the foot of the cliffs. Find cover. We’ve only minutes before—”

  “No,” I shook my head, gritted my teeth. I wrapped my arm around his back, pushing, cajoling him to keep going. “Keep moving, Wells.”

  His breaths came in shallow puffs. Frost clung to the scruff of his beard and settled on his dark brows. Skin deathly pale, he fought to move forward. My heart tumbled painfully in my chest as I took in the uncontrollable shivering of his jaw and weakening movements. He was dying out here. He was freezing to death before my eyes. “Please, Ash,” my voice broke. I pulled at his arm, stumbling in the drifts, my core plummeting with the wet and ice. I was slowing.

  Ashton fell into the snow up to his chest. He moaned, arms scraping weakly at the bank as he tried to pull himself further.

  The ground trembled, the wave of ice bearing down on us.

  “Won’t make…it,” Ashton chattered.

  “Of course we will,” I said, repeating what he’d often told me when I’d thought all was lost. I heaved with all of my strength, desperate to get him free of the drift entombing him. “We have to.”

  “Stubborn girl,” Ashton said through a weak smile. His gaze from under snow-laden lashes made my throat ache. “Leave me here.”

  Minute scrapes from the ice crystals in the air left red welts on his face.

  My breath came in labored wheezes as the cold penetrated even the warmth of our lungs. Joints stiff, as if I were rusting, I yanked on his sleeve, frantic to get him moving. “Please, Ash!” Panic squeezed a cry from me.

  “G-go, love…” His eyes swam. He was fading.

  The ground shook beneath us, the snow breaking as the ice barreled forward. The tumult of the building wind threw me back onto my heels, nearly knocking me over. Flashes of those creatures in the warehouse crept across my vision. Laboratory animals with their faces frozen in contorted screams, their bodies reaching, solid, slick with ice. A shudder moved through me. I refused to die here. “Forgive me for this,” I said and pulled the baton from underneath my bodice. I swung my arm out and ratcheted out the sections, wincing at the jolt of silvery energy that tore from the mechanica of my hand to the rod.

  Eyes going wide
, he opened his mouth to protest.

  But I was already swinging, making contact with his chest in a rain of sparks.

  The pulse bolted through him, lighting up his mouth and eyes. He shook with the power, jerking backward with a strangled wail. Hair smoking, he staggered to his feet, his face a mask of disbelief as he stood gasping and twitching.

  “I c-can’t believe you did that!”

  “Can you run now?” I pointed to the churning ice as I retracted my weapon. “Hurry…please!”

  “I’m right behind you,” he said, turning me and giving me a push.

  We fought the snow, crawling on our hands and knees over the bank to the soft powder, panting with the effort.

  I chanced a look back, a section of the wave hit the Stygian, shoving it ahead of itself. Crashing like breaking glass filled the air, the beams and sides of the air ship giving way to the mounds of moving ice. The ballast crumbled, shredded with a thousand frozen slices. The wave took the ship with it, bubbling and churning around the vessel. It sucked the ship into the icy depths in a whirling pool of debris. Escaping air rushed out of the hole, hissing up from the waters and spraying into the sky where it froze, drifting down in a shower of snow and bits of ice.

  The rest of the swell surrounded us, slowing against the snow, but just barely. I battled the drag of ice-laden skirts and snow-filled boots with every step. Ashton’s hand at my back kept me going, every few moments urging me forward. And then, the sound changed. The relentless vibration of the ground stopped. The wind stilled, and my hair dropped heavy around my face.

  “What…” I looked at Ashton, whose gaze went not to the wave behind us, but to the cliffs.

  A billow of white vapor crawled along the ground from the cliffs—mist so thick it appeared the clouds were pouring down the face of the rock.

  “It’s here,” he breathed, reaching for me.

  “Ash!” I took his hand, saw the dread in his eyes. My voice quaked. “What do we do?”

  “Go, go, go!” Ashton pointed, veering us right. “There is a cave. Do you see the mouth?”

 

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