The 7th of Victorica

by Beau Schemery

  Sev wondered at the odd way he accented the word heal. “I don’t need yer help.” Sev tried to back away from Fairgate.

  The wizard raised his hand. Sev couldn’t move. “Sevvy.” Fairgate leaned in, his lips brushing Sev’s temple. “You’re so defiant. I admire that.” His whispers drifted into an incantation. Now Fairgate did touch Sev’s ribs and also his face. Sev’s ribs instantly felt less sore. The gash around his eye seemed to knit itself closed.

  “How is that spell healin’ me if ye’re sayin’ it?” Sev grimaced at Fairgate. “Ye said ye’re teachin’ me t’heal meself.”

  “Sevvy.” Fairgate leaned back, then dropped into the chair. “You’re assuming you and I aren’t one and the same.”

  “Enough,” Sev barked, slamming his fist down on the control console. He’d rather act out violently than ponder what Fairgate’s words might mean. “If ye’ve got somethin’ t’say, say it! If not, leave me be. I’m tired of yer deceased arse.” He turned away and looked out the window. It was dark outside, but Sev could just barely see undulating forms grasping at their ship. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to look at less, those forms or Fairgate. He turned back to the unwanted visitor.

  Fairgate chuckled softly, sadly, and leaned his head into his hand. “You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You’ve been using my spells and magic, but you don’t know where they’re derived from.” He stood. Sev thought he looked very tired and very old. “The Elders have taken notice. They’ll come for you. Eventually.”

  “I don’t know what that all means, Fairgate. But I ain’t afraid o’yer Elders. Whatever they got t’throw at me, I’ll meet. And I won’t be alone either. I got friends t’back me up.”

  “If only that were enough.” The sadness in Fairgate’s tone tore at Sev’s own emotions. He seemed truly upset by what he saw in Sev’s future. “I can’t do any more for you, Sevvy.” Fairgate reached out, squeezed Sev’s shoulder like they were old friends. “If you survive this, maybe I’ll see you again. For now, you’re on your own. I’m sorry, Sev. I’m so, so sorry.” Fairgate gave Sev a melancholy smile before he melted into thin air. “Now wake up,” Fairgate’s voice said. “You’ve got a battle to fight, and you’re almost there.”

  SEV WOKE, sitting bolt upright. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “Fairgate.”

  “What about Fairgate?” Silas stood above Sev, and he wondered how long Silas had been awake. “Your eye.” Silas breathed the words.

  Sev reached toward the wound but didn’t touch it.

  “It’s completely healed… just a scar.” Silas mimicked Sev’s movement. “How?”

  “Long story,” Sev said. “We’re there?”

  “We are,” Silas answered, his hand dropping. He regarded Sev quizzically for a moment. “I’m sure you’ll fill me in on that long story later?”

  “I promise. Where is there?”

  “We’re approaching a town in Pennsylvania called Gettysburg,” Silas said. “This is where the armies are converging.”

  “How do we know that?” Sev looked out over their destination. He felt unimpressed. They drifted toward a strangely unremarkable bit of land: just a couple of fields, some stands of trees. It was nothing like the grounds of Buckingham Palace and looked like every other parcel of nondescript farmland that Victorica seemed to have in abundance.

  “Edison.” Teddy joined them at the window. “I sent him a telegraph when we found out about the Southern movement.”

  “Why didn’t y’tell us?” Sev looked at his newest friend.

  Teddy shrugged. “Everyone was doin’ stuff. I just wanted t’do mah part. Edison is gatherin’ the troops back at New Undertown as well.”

  Sev whistled. “Damn, Teddy. Well done.” Sev couldn’t believe neither he nor Silas had remembered New Undertown. Sev patted Teddy’s shoulder. “I’m glad someone was doin’ some thinkin’.”

  “They’re bringin’ the weapons Midnight had shipped over,” Teddy told them. “The Federation’s in for a fight.”

  “Amen t’that.” Sev couldn’t help but smile. Teddy had gone above and beyond. Sev felt so proud. “So we’ve obviously arrived ahead o’the other forces. What’s our plan?”

  “We should conceal our people in the surroundin’ woods.” Mama Gert stepped over to address them. “Y’can see the voodoo threads o’magic?

  “Aye,” Sev said with a nod.

  “Y’all ought t’stay in this vessel. They’ll keep their priestesses in their airships, and it’ll be easier for ya t’get to them if y’all stay.”

  Sev hated that idea. It meant he’d have to sit out the battle proper so he could stop the voodoo priestesses. “I don’t like that.”

  “She makes sense,” Silas said. “It’s the undead blighters that give the Federation the edge. With them out of the picture, the numbers will be more even. We’ll stand a chance against them.”

  Sev huffed and folded his arms. “I’ll do what I got t’do, but I still don’t like lettin’ everyone else do all the heavy liftin’.”

  “Don’t worry, Sev,” Teddy said with a smile. “We’ll make ya proud.”

  “I ain’t worried about that, Teddy. I just ain’t comfortable with sittin’ by while me mates are in danger.”

  “We’ll be in considerably less danger once you’ve taken care of those voodoo women.” Silas leaned over the control panel to find them a place to land the ships.

  “What?” Sev blurted. “Ye’re stayin’ up here with me.” Sev realized how needy and desperate he sounded. “Someone’s got t’drive this bugger.” He hoped that sounded practical.

  “I can drive this infernal contraption,” Mama Gert stated. “And I can guarantee that Mr. Silas is better in a fight than I am.”

  Sev stared, his mouth agape. Silas looked at him with a pained expression. “Sev, as much as I want to remain with you, she’s right. They need me on the ground.”

  Sev wanted to argue, to scream, to deny it, but he couldn’t. They were right. Strategically it made the most sense for Gert to help him and for Silas to help the troops on the ground. “Bloody hell,” Sev grumbled. “Aye, ye’re needed down there. I know.”

  “Speakin’ of,” Tab interjected. “We should get our people on the ground and stow these ships.”

  “She’s right.” Rat hooked an arm around her shoulders.

  Gert nodded and shoved Silas aside. Her hands danced over the controls and the vessel descended. Sev noticed the others followed suit. “We don’t have t’stow ’em.” Gert glanced over her shoulder just before they touched down. “The Souths are expectin’ these blimps. We offload the troops and head back up to the air. They’ll think we’re part o’their forces.”

  “Fair point,” Sev said with a nod. “Everybody out.” Sev wasn’t surprised when Silas waited until everyone else had disembarked.

  “Sev,” Silas said in a low tone.

  “Don’t say it.” He held up a hand. “I was bein’ selfish. I know. It’s just that I almost lost ye once, and I don’t want t’go through that again.”

  Silas held up his clockwork arm. “I’ll be fine, Sev. I appreciate your concern, and I promise I’ll come through this. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Sev grasped Silas’s mechanical hand and pulled him into an embrace. “Just make certain ye come back t’me.”

  “I will.” His lips brushed Sev’s temple. He pulled Sev close and held him tight for a moment longer. Then he released him and ran off the vessel with the rest of their allies.

  “Get that door closed, Sev,” Gert ordered. “We got t’get this bird back in the air.”

  “Aye,” Sev answered as he sealed the door. He leaned his forehead against the glass, watching as his mates, especially Silas, retreated into the surrounding woods. Sev sighed and closed his eyes after he lost sight of them.

  “What’s wrong, boy?” Mama Gert asked. Sev looked back at her, but she remained hunched over the controls.

  He didn’t answer, didn’t really know how to
answer. Could he tell her the truth? The citizens of Undertown, the original, could look on his relationship with Silas with indifference, even acceptance, but the world at large? He didn’t think so. And yet he felt like he could speak freely with Mama Gert.

  “Come on, then, boy. Speak. What ails your mind?” The airship leveled off, and Gert abandoned the controls.

  “Oh, Miss Gert,” Sev said, a forlorn note in his voice.

  “Mama, baby. Not so formal. Tell Mama what’s wrong.” She opened her arms.

  Sev couldn’t help himself when he saw those outstretched arms. He dove into Gert’s embrace. “Oh, Mama. I almost lost Silas once. I’m so afraid I’m goin’ t’lose him again.” He rested his cheek against her bony shoulder and felt more comforted than he had in months. He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear Gert’s judgment, but wanting to feel her comfort.

  She patted his head affectionately. “There, there, popkin. I know it hurts a bit. I know.” She gripped him tighter and pressed her lips to his hair.

  He felt tears spill out over his cheeks, and he cursed himself for his weakness.

  “Easy, Sevvy. Easy.” She made shushing noises, he assumed to calm and reassure him. It helped a little. It had been so long since he’d had a mother figure in his life, not to mention one who was willing to embrace and comfort him.

  “I love him, Mama,” Sev whispered. “He’s my world.”

  “Shh.” Gert held him and rocked him in her arms. “I know ya love ’im. I ain’t blind. And I’m sorry y’all are forced into makin’ these decisions, choosin’ between what y’want and what’s right. I know it ain’t easy.”

  Sev scrubbed at his eyes and his runny nose with the back of his hand. What am I doin’? he asked himself. This isn’t me. I’m no crybaby. He sniffed deeply and straightened. “Thanks, luv. I don’t know what came over me. That ain’t like me at all.”

  “It’s all right, Sev-baby. This ain’t no small fight we is havin’ t’day. This is a battle fer our country, fer our freedom. And we’re countin’ on you more than anyone. It’s no surprise that ye’re under a bushel o’pressure. Ain’t nobody’s goin’ t’blame ya fer a few moments o’humanity.”

  “Thank ye, Gert. I appreciate ye understandin’.” Sev gazed out the windows once more. “I’d also appreciate it if ye kept all o’that between us.”

  “Ya have my word, Sev.” Creakily, she bent down and flipped the lid off a wooden army crate. “We’d best be getting’ prepared for what’s on the way here.” She had a rifle in the crook of her arm. She popped a few rounds of bullets into the rectangular chamber.

  Sev nodded and began checking his own weapons and gadgets: his turret pistol, his arm-mounted crossbow, the grappling rifle he and Rat had perfected. Sev had no doubt this would be the fight of their lives.

  SILAS LAY on his belly among the pine needles, leaves, and other botanical detritus of the forest floor. His gaze continually wandered up to the airship. He imagined Sev and Gert inside, talking and preparing for the coming battle. It hurt, not to be fighting at Sev’s side. Silas knew their decision made the most sense strategically, but it still didn’t sit right with him.

  He didn’t like the fact that he and Sev wouldn’t be fighting side by side against insurmountable odds. Together they could take on the world, apart? Silas didn’t want to think about that. His hands drifted once again to the twin revolvers strapped to his hips.

  His gaze traveled to the other men, women, and children crouched or lying among the trees. He hoped the limited training would be enough to ensure their victory over the Southern oppressors. So many doubts marched through his mind. He wondered if this was really the point where the opposing forces would meet. He wondered if their allies from New Undertown in New York would make it in time. He wondered if they’d been able to cobble together any more of the clockwork constructs based on the original Prometheus design. He wondered if enough of the weapons Midnight’s factory produced had made the journey across the pond.

  “Too many questions,” Silas muttered to himself.

  “What’s that, Si?” Teddy whispered from the underbrush to Silas’s left.

  “Hmm?” Silas looked over. “Oh. Nothing, Teddy. I’m just wishing we had more answers. We need to succeed, and there are just too many questions.”

  “My own daddy used t’say, ‘Where there’s a will there’s a man willin’ t’fight for what’s right.’ And I think we got plenty o’will on our side, suh.”

  Silas snorted a quiet chuckle. “I’m not certain your father had that idiom quite right, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  Teddy echoed Silas’s laugh. “I s’pose you’re right at that. My pa weren’t no educated man, but he and my ma bartered, bought, and bargained so that me an’ mah siblin’s would be.”

  Silas felt a lump in his throat. He’d never known his own parents, only the harsh “love” of Captain Dizziwig and his fraudulent clockwork circus. Sev had known his parents and siblings but lost them in tragedy and fire. Silas envied Teddy’s retention of at least a portion of his family: his brother and sisters, so much like Sev’s own family. “I wish I could have met your father,” Silas said, his voice thick with emotion. “He sounds like an amazing man.”

  “Oh, he was, suh. He surely was. And my momma was just as strong and impressive.”

  “I’m sorry you lost them.”

  Teddy nodded. “I ’preciate that, Si. I’d give anythin’ t’get ’em back fer just a day. Just long enough t’tell ’em how much I love ’em and how much they mean t’me.”

  Silas sniffed, tears heavy in his eyes. He couldn’t answer, couldn’t offer Teddy comfort because he felt very close to breaking down into a sobbing, tearful fit. Instead, he nodded silently.

  “I know y’all are worried, suh. But you shouldn’t be. We’re goin’ t’beat these sidewinders. We’ve got Mistuh Sev’s magic on our side, and they don’t know that.”

  Sev’s magic, Silas thought the words Teddy had just uttered.

  “Surely that gives us an edge,” Teddy suggested.

  Surely it should, Silas agreed silently. But he wasn’t convinced, wasn’t convinced it was truly Sev’s magic. To Silas, it was Fairgate’s magic, the old gods’ magic, and Sev was only trying to harness it. Silas couldn’t help the feeling that Fairgate’s magic was trying to harness Sev. Silas knew that magic might decide the war, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to be too much of a price to his love, hoped it wouldn’t be his demise. But Silas had seen the way Sev looked when he used the magic, the way Sev seemed to fade and be replaced by something other.

  “Let’s hope so,” Silas finally answered after a pause that lasted too long while he pondered. “They have magic also, Teddy.”

  “Yeah, but that’s just voodoo, raisin’ the dead and curses and such. It ain’t nothin’ as impressive as fireballs and the like. Sev’ll wipe the floor with them Southern varmints.”

  Silas smiled despite himself. Teddy’s youthful excitement almost made Silas believe him. “I shall remain cautiously optimistic, Teddy. You have a bit more faith in Sev’s magic than I do. It’s so new to us, so strange. And I’m not convinced that it’s predictable enough to be reliable.”

  Teddy frowned at Silas. He shook his head slowly. “Silas, ya got t’have a little more faith, friend. We’ve got the upper hand. The Southerners are in over their heads.”

  Silas wished he could believe that good intentions would ensure victory, that Sev’s mystic abilities would be an asset, would be worth the cost. Silas knew the arcane knowledge in Fairgate’s journal had helped them so far and would most likely benefit them in the coming battle, but Silas still selfishly wished they’d never found that accursed book. Despite his better judgment, Silas related his concerns to Teddy. He didn’t want to squash Teddy’s optimism, but he needed someone else to know what he’d been grappling with.

  “Cripes,” Teddy whispered after Silas finished his story. “Ya really think the magic is that dangerous?”

  “I do.” He sigh
ed into the bed of pine needles, his breath scattering them. “I have pure and utter faith in Seven to do his level best with that magic, to try as hard as he can to control it and use it in our favor. But I do not trust that magic.”

  “Ya talk like it’s got thinkin’ of its own.”

  “I believe it does.” Silas paused. “In a way.”

  “Maybe it don’t, though,” Teddy said. “Maybe it don’t corrupt the user. Maybe the user corrupts it. Maybe it was your awful, evil wizard-man that made the magic dark, and if someone like Sev uses it, it won’t be dark no more.”

  Silas considered it. He loved Sev, but if he were honest with himself, no matter the purity of Sev’s intentions, he’d done some questionable things in the name of those intentions. Silas knew the world they lived in wasn’t black or white, good or bad. He knew Sev fell somewhere on that scale of gray. He just hoped what Teddy suggested might be true. “You’re a good friend, Teddy.”

  “Ain’t no better friend than one willin’ t’fight t’free me and mah people,” Teddy responded. “And fer no other reason than it’s the right thing t’do.”

  Tears threatened to spill out of Silas’s eyes. Before they could or he could respond to Teddy’s statement, Silas felt something.

  “Is that a train?” Teddy asked, obviously feeling it as well.

  “No,” Silas said, shaking his head. “That’s got to be the army.”

  “Which one?”

  “I think we’re going to find out soon enough.” Silas wondered just how big an army it took to create that manner of vibration in the very ground itself. The rhythm stayed uniform, constant, and inevitable. He wasn’t surprised when he noticed the cloud of dust on the horizon. “Damn.” Silas punched the ground. “That dust cloud is emerging from the southwest. That’s our enemies.”

  “Blast it.” Teddy whispered to someone on the side opposite Silas, and a hushed alarm rippled through the forest.

  Silas twisted to look over his shoulder, hoping to see a similar dust cloud rising in the north. He wasn’t surprised but had to admit to himself that he was disappointed. “It appears we’re on our own, Teddy. At least until reinforcements arrive.”