Cold Copper aos-3

by Devon Monk

  Then Hink’s hand was under hers, supporting it. “Are you sure, Rose?”

  She pressed her lips together and was surprised to feel a tear at the corner of her eye. Maybe she’d been sitting there, unbuttoned with the odd device in her hand for more than a moment.

  She didn’t know why she heard this metal so loudly in her mind. She only hoped that when she placed it between the cloth of her blouse and her underdress it would be dampened enough—and not touching her skin—so she didn’t hear it at all.

  It wasn’t easy, but then, she’d done plenty of other difficult things. Finally, she got the copper tucked into her blouse and the back of her collar buttoned up again. The wagon had already stopped moving and she wasn’t done buttoning her coat.

  Her fingers flew through the closures, hoping she lined the holes and buttons up straight.

  “How do I look?” she asked Hink.

  He visibly swallowed. “Beautiful.” And then he bent down, and right there, in front of Mr. Wicks, he made to kiss her.

  Just then, the door was thrown open and Hink pulled away.

  It took Rose more than a bit to get her breathing under control, and all the heat in her cheeks had migrated down her chest and stomach, even though he hadn’t even kissed her.

  “Get out,” the man outside ordered.

  “You sure your mind’s made up?” Hink asked Wicks. “There’s only five of them.”

  “Quite sure,” Wicks said a little stiffly.

  And then Wicks ducked out of the wagon, and Rose was right behind him. Hink was last out and, true to his word, went with the men peacefully.

  The jail wasn’t as large as Rose had expected. She’d never been to a big-city jail before, but had hoped it might be several stories tall, and trimmed up with all the bric-a-brac the rest of the city seemed to be dripping with.

  No, this was a short, square brick building, with narrow windows and a door made out of metal.

  They were brought inside and quickly marched past several cells occupied by rough-looking men who hooted and whistled as she passed by.

  Hink and Wicks were shoved into one cell, and when Rose went to step in, the sheriff pulled on her arm.

  “You’ll be in a separate cell,” he said.

  “Plenty of room for her in my cell, Sheriff,” one of the prisoners yelled. “You know you want me, pretty thing. Come on in and let me get a good look at you.”

  “Touch the lady and I’ll be shoveling you into your grave before sunset,” Hink said calmly.

  The bars slammed shut behind Hink, and Rose was pushed down the hall farther.

  To her left was another cell with a big brute of a man who paced and mumbled what sounded like the Lord’s Prayer to himself; then the next cell held a man lying on a crude cot.

  He seemed to be of native blood, though he wore the styles of a white man. He appeared shirtless beneath a blanket tossed across the middle of his body. He also looked pale and sick, and there was a pool of blood at the side of the cot.

  He was dying.

  But before she could even see the all of him, she was shoved into the next cell and the bars were snapped shut behind her.

  “Wait,” Rose said. “Please.”

  The guard had taken several strides down the hall, but turned and looked at her. “What is it?”

  “The man in that cell we passed. I think he’s badly hurt.”

  “He is,” he said. “But if I were you, I’d worry about your own business.”

  “You’ll just leave him here to die?” For some reason Rose was shocked about that. She shouldn’t be, not after everything she’d seen. Cruelty was all too common in this world. “What did he do?”

  “He broke the law, miss. Just like everyone else on your side of the bars.” The man walked away.

  “I haven’t broken a law,” Rose said quietly, knowing he wouldn’t hear her. “Not yet, in any case.” She put her hands on her hips and turned to assess just what she had to work with in the tiny cell. Not much: bars, a cot, a blanket, two buckets—one filled with water, the other empty. That was all. Certainly not much to plan an escape with.

  And then a voice drifted down from the end of the line of cells. A very familiar voice.

  “Rose Small?” Alun Madder asked. “Is that you, girl?”

  25

  Cedar took a deep breath, savoring the warmth and ease of the soft bed. Nothing hurt. He could sleep all day and not be the worse for it.

  But the soft bed was rocking enough he began to wonder if he were still aboard Captain Hink’s airship, or maybe in the back of the wagon forcing its way through the blizzard toward Iowa.

  That—a moment of sheer fear that he was still trapped in the blizzard, drowsy from the cold, and possibly on the edge of death—sent him rushing up through the warmth and comfort to wakefulness.

  He was indeed in a wagon, the back of their traveling wagon, bundled beneath several layers of blankets. Wil lay next to him, sleeping in wolf form.

  Cedar shook his head, trying to shell reality from dream. Wil had been a man, and so had Cedar. The curse was temporarily lifted by Father Kyne.

  And then the curse had fallen upon them again, leaving Cedar a beast until the sun rose and Wil a beast until the next three nights of no moon.

  Dawn must be upon them. And with dawn, Cedar had once again regained his man’s body.

  Which explained why he was naked.

  Other memories tumbled through his mind, a chaotic mix of double images he could hardly put reason to. A few stood out clearly. He had followed the Strange with the pink ribbon. He had heard the children trapped in the icy river, and sensed the Holder down in that black watery grave. He had watched the Strange steal away that sleepwalking child, and had felt the pain of Father Kyne being beaten by someone.

  Vosbrough. Father Kyne had been beaten by Vosbrough.

  He rubbed his face. There was more: the children in the rock-tumble cave. Wil thought they might be alive, but how could they be after all this time, stashed away behind rocks?

  The Holder, though—that he knew was beneath the river. He knew it like he knew his own heartbeat. He had to find a way to pull the deadly device free. He had no idea how to do that.

  The wagon hit a bump, and he realized they were driving somewhere. Mae. He hoped she was holding the reins. He searched the wagon for clothing, found a pair of breeches and a spare shirt, not as heavy as his other shirt. He’d probably lost his clothes when he’d shifted shapes.

  These would have to do. He had an extra pair of boots with a hole in the heel, but a wad of cloth would keep them mostly watertight.

  Wil was going to be so disappointed his favorite boots had been left behind. Cedar combed his hair back with stiff fingers and paused at the pain tightening his chest. He inhaled too quickly, which set him to coughing. His lungs hurt, his back hurt. Usually when he took the form of the beast, all his injuries were healed. But the spell Mae and Father Kyne had laid upon him must have changed that.

  When his cough was settled, he scrubbed the sweat off his face and blinked to clear his eyes. He took several short, careful breaths to test that his lungs were still whole. Breathing hurt, but his cough was the least of their worries.

  He gathered himself and swung out the back of the wagon, leaning wide so he could see their surroundings.

  He was surprised to see the tall buildings and crowded street of the city. A quick look at the shadows told him it was just an hour or two past dawn. With his heightened senses from the change, he knew the two voices at the head of the wagon were Mae and Miss Dupuis.

  Mae was there. Mae was safe. His heart seemed to unclench as relief flooded through him.

  The wagon turned down a side street. Cedar recognized it as the alley that ran beside the courthouse. Mae called the mules to a halt, and then he heard her and Miss Dupuis jump down from the driving seat to the snowy ground.

  They walked around the wagon and Cedar called out softly to Mae, “Good morning.”

  Sh
e glanced up at him, the worry slipping away for a moment as dawn brushed her soft features with the watery tones of spring roses.

  “You’re awake,” she said.

  “I am. Why are we in town?” He jumped down to the ground beside her.

  “Because,” Miss Dupuis said, coming up from the other side. “I have very bad news. The Madders are scheduled to be hung this afternoon.”

  “What? Have I lost days? There was to be a court hearing. You were to defend them. To stay the hanging.”

  “You’ve only been asleep a few hours,” Miss Dupuis said. “The mayor has changed his mind. He has decided the charges against them are too egregious and numerous against the nation for a jury of peers to decide their fate. He has declared them guilty and the judge agrees. The jury hadn’t even been assembled. But the court clerk was there and made note in the record.”

  “Is there no way to stop this?” Cedar asked. “Legally?”

  “I sent a wire to the attorney general of the United States, but I don’t believe I will receive a response before noon.”

  “And the mayor?”

  Mae spoke. “He’s set to kill them, Cedar. No matter what the law says. The Madders said it was an old rivalry between them, an old hatred. And for Vosbrough there was only ever one way to end this: with the Madders’ death.”

  “They’re still in jail?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Mae said.

  “So we break them out.”

  “I agree,” Miss Dupuis said. “But there is more you must know. Father Kyne is injured. And he too is in jail.”

  Cedar nodded. He remembered the injuries from his visions last night. “Can he walk?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Mae, could you help him with that? Heal him enough for us to free him?”

  “I could try, but healing is gentle and difficult to speed along. And if we’re running from the law, it will be even more difficult.”

  “What weapons do we have at our disposal?” he asked.

  “The things you see here,” Mae said. She pulled open the back of the wagon, and drew away an extra blanket that he didn’t recognize. Beneath that blanket were rifles, pistols, and a couple sticks of dynamite.

  “Where did you get these?”

  “Some from the church, some from the Madders’ supplies,” Mae said. “I took you and Wil to the church first. Miss Dupuis met me there and told me the news. I assumed we’d need guns to work our way out of this.”

  “You are a practical woman,” Cedar said with a smile.

  “I can hold my own in a pinch.”

  “They’re set to hang at noon?” Cedar asked.

  “Yes,” Miss Dupuis said. “We have a few hours.”

  “And no plan.” Cedar rubbed his face again. Hunger and a lingering ache were stealing his thoughts away. He needed food. “Do we have water?”

  “Yes,” Mae said. “I’m sorry, Cedar. I should have told you that first. I brought you some food.” She walked around the front of the wagon and returned with a saddlebag. He could smell the hardtack and jerked meat even through the leather.

  “I didn’t have time to make anything,” she said, opening the bag.

  “It’s fine,” Cedar said. “More than fine.”

  Mae handed him the bag. His hands were shaking from the hunger, but he managed to chew before he swallowed. Mae also gave him a canteen of cold water in which she had steeped some dried tea leaves. It was a humble meal, but more than a feast for his needs.

  He saved half the meat and water for Wil, but finished all the hardtack, which he knew Wil wouldn’t eat in wolf form.

  His hunger temporarily abated, he went through the things at their disposal: guns, dynamite, the wagon, horses.

  “Maybe in the middle of the night,” Cedar said, “we’d have a chance. But to break them out in broad daylight, just the three of us, and somehow make it to the wagon with an injured man, and then get out of a town this size without being stopped…I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps Wil could be a distraction?” Miss Dupuis suggested. “A wild wolf in the middle of town is sure to draw attention. And the law.”

  Wil must have heard his name. He lifted his head, then stood and stretched. He walked to the end of the wagon. He didn’t step outside of the shadowed interior, but he was listening now.

  Cedar quickly repeated the situation with the Madders and Father Kyne, and told him Miss Dupuis’s suggestion.

  “You could get into the jail,” Cedar said, “lure out the lawmen. We could go in behind you, take out anyone else who was left, then get Kyne and the Madders out. We’ll need to have the wagon close by for Father Kyne, and once we’re out of that jail, we will need to leave town as fast as we can.”

  “It seems our best chance,” Miss Dupuis said.

  “There is one other thing,” he said. “I know where the Holder is.”

  “What?” Miss Dupuis said. “Where?”

  “In the river not too far from here. At the bottom of the river under ice,” he clarified.

  They were silent a moment, and Miss Dupuis closed her eyes and whispered something in her native French.

  “You must retrieve it,” she said.

  “It’s under ice.”

  “But you must. If it falls into the wrong hands, the world will suffer.”

  “Maybe the world’s going to have to suffer a bit until spring. The lives of our traveling companions and Father Kyne are more important than a piece of a weapon no man can reach.”

  “Men will reach it,” she said. “Men always do. The Holder must be contained.”

  “Not before we save the Madders.”

  She took a breath, held it, then said, “I believe they would think otherwise.”

  “Well, then, they can tell me I’m wrong while I’m dragging their hides out of this town and away from the gallows strung up for three.”

  “They will come with us if we break them out, won’t they?” Mae asked Miss Dupuis.

  Miss Dupuis shrugged. “I have known the brothers Madder for many years. But I still do not understand their ways. There is one thing I am certain about, however. They will risk anything, and anyone, to see that the Holder is gathered up and securely, permanently locked away.”

  Cedar started around to the driver’s side of the wagon. “Well, we’re about to tell them they’re going to risk leaving it behind. Let’s get this done.”

  26

  “Mr. Madder?” Rose said. She walked to the farthest side of the cell bars so she could look down the hall toward where she’d heard his voice.

  At the end of a hall was another cell. And standing with one elbow resting on a crossbar, holding several playing cards, was Alun Madder.

  Rose had never been so happy to see him in her life.

  “What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, Rose Small?” he said with a smile and a wink. “Always knew you were a spirited woman.”

  “Trespassing, apparently,” she said. “Do you know they mean to hang you? You and your brothers?”

  He nodded. “Building a gallows in our honor, I’m given to understand. Did you come in alone?”

  “No, Captain Hink is with me, and a Mr. Thomas Wicks.”

  “Wicks?” Alun said. “Thin fellow, curly hair, tends toward bowler hats and books?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “We’ve made acquaintance.”

  She couldn’t tell by his tone of voice whether they had met on good or bad circumstances, but made a note to herself to ask him, if they ever got out of this place.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked.

  “Came into town two nights ago. And were thrown in jail yesterday morning or so.”

  Bryn Madder and Cadoc Madder both walked up to the bars and gave her a wave.

  “Good to see you, Miss Small,” Bryn said.

  “Hello,” Cadoc added.

  “Hello,” Rose replied. “Why did they throw you in jail?”

  “That’s a long st
ory,” Alun said. Then, to Bryn, “It has been a full day and night now. I suppose that’s long enough for Hunt to find what we’re looking for, don’t you think, brothers?”

  “Should be,” Bryn agreed. “Cadoc?”

  Cadoc stared at the ceiling. “Lots of cracks in that mortar.”

  “There is, isn’t there?” Alun said. “Rose, you’ll want to stand back a bit.”

  “Rose!” one of the other prisoners called. “Is that your name, sweetheart? When I make bail, I’ll come and get you and show you what a man can do for a woman.”

  “Or at least as much a man can do with a broken neck,” Hink said placidly.

  That got all the men in the cells riled up, and threats, the like she’d never heard before, sprinkled with more than a little blue language, filled the air.

  Rose ignored the taunts and whistles, and moved away from the bars of her cell as the Madders had told her.

  But the noise brought the lawman back to the hall. No, not just the lawman, the sheriff himself.

  “What’s all the racket back here?” He ran a nightstick against the other prisoners’ bars, then headed down the rest of the hall. “You.” He pointed at the Madders. “Stand away from the bars and shut your yaps.”

  Rose could hear the scuff of the Madders’ boots as they each took one step backward.

  “I said get away from the bars.”

  “You know, Sheriff,” Alun said conversationally. “These bars are pretty strong. Solid steel. Good quality too; the mayor does not disappoint. I don’t think even three men could break them down.”

  “However,” Bryn added. “Stone is another matter.”

  “A Madder matter,” Cadoc echoed.

  “Don’t make me shoot you, gentlemen,” the sheriff said. “Mayor would hate for you to bloody up the new gallows before your necks snap.”

  “There’s no need for guns,” Alun said.

  Rose snuck up to the front of her cell again. The sheriff had walked past her cell and was standing just out of arm’s reach in front of the Madders’ cell.