Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  “Let her go, Solon,” Grayson repeated. “I won’t resist.”

  “Of course you won’t.” Solon raised his gloved hand that still held the silver necklace. A shimmer, and he suddenly held Lock in his fist.

  “Holy hell,” Andrew muttered.

  Lock squeaked, and one delicate wing bent under Solon’s grip.

  “No, don’t,” Briar pleaded, reaching a hand toward Lock.

  Grayson gasped and dropped to his knees, though no one had touched him.

  “What mess have you gotten yourself into, Grayson?” Solon asked.

  Grayson glared in return, a trickle of blood running from one nostril.

  Briar stared at the crimson droplet, suddenly understanding. Grayson had told her that Lock had been created from a piece of Mr. Martel’s soul. His soul.

  “Mr. Solon?” Andrew cut in. “It seems you have your man. May I take my cousin?”

  “You see?” Grayson said to Solon. “She’s not what you think.”

  “She carries your construct.”

  Grayson shrugged. “She thought it was cute. I let her carry it to remain on her boat and out of your sight.”

  Briar frowned. Was this another role he was playing? Or had he been playing her all along?

  Solon chuckled. “Brilliant, as always. I would never have considered it. Fortunately, my new associate”—he gestured at Andrew—“learned that his stolen boat had been seen carrying a man of your description.”

  Grayson pushed himself to his feet, a muscle in his jaw flexing. Was he in some kind of pain?

  Lock gave an angry whirr of indignation, but he had stopped struggling.

  “What are you doing in the country, Leon?” Grayson asked Solon, apparently using his given name.

  “It is the land of opportunity, is it not? You’ve clearly made the most of it.”

  “As best I could with the limitations you place on me.”

  “You can’t blame this on me. This is entirely your doing.”

  Briar assumed Solon was accusing Grayson of stealing and using ferro-technology to get ahead in the world.

  Grayson neither agreed with nor denied Solon’s claim. He merely regarded the man with that cold stare of his, not even glancing at Briar, though Solon still held her. And, come to think of it, she’d had enough of the manhandling.

  She rammed her elbow into Solon’s stomach, taking him by surprise. He doubled over with a grunt, and she twisted out of his hold. She turned toward the gangplank, intending to make a run for it, but came face to face with Mr. Owens.

  He grinned at her.

  “What are you grinning at you whoreson of a potato peeler.”

  “Bridget Ellen,” Andrew admonished her. “Must you be so crude?”

  She spun to face him and had the satisfaction of watching him step back. “Don’t tempt me, Andrew. I’ve laid you out on this deck before, and I would love to do it again.”

  “Enough,” Solon cut in.

  “Told you,” Grayson said in the silence. “She’s just one of those loud-mouthed canal people. Besides,” Grayson continued before she could give him a demonstration, “do you really think I would allow myself to be yoked like that?”

  Briar was about to give him an earful, but hesitated. What the hell was he talking about?

  Solon studied Grayson for a moment. “Revert,” he said.

  Briar frowned, not following that.

  Solon clenched his fist, and suddenly, he was holding the silver lock Briar had first seen on Mr. Martel’s trunk. Solon tucked the lock in his pocket.

  “Come along then,” Solon said to Grayson, then gestured at the gangplank. “I believe you have a meeting with destiny.”

  “Mr. Solon?” Andrew prompted, his tone meek and placating. The tone he often used with someone of higher social rank.

  “I have business to attend to,” Solon answered, sparing Andrew a brief glance. “As I believe you do. I shall call on you at your hotel when I finish.”

  “Yes, sir,” Andrew quickly agreed.

  “What are you licking his boots for?” Briar asked her cousin.

  Andrew’s face turned red, but he was spared a response by Grayson starting toward the gangplank, Solon right on his heels. Neither glanced in her direction.

  Mr. Owens stepped back when Grayson drew near, then fell in line behind Solon as the trio left the boat.

  “Officer!” Andrew called, waving for one of the blue-coated policemen to join him. “The woman is to be incarcerated with the others.”

  “You’re going to jail me for running my own boat?” she demanded.

  “You stole the boat, Bridget.”

  “Won’t my incarceration shame you?”

  “Everyone knows what a disgrace you are to the family, and how hard I worked to reform you. I will be commended for the effort, even though it was clearly a losing battle.”

  “You’re a pompous ass, Andrew Rose. I’m glad my uncle didn’t have to experience the shame of seeing what you’ve become.”

  Andrew slapped her. Hard.

  The blow was so unexpected that she stumbled to the side. Andrew never lost his composure, and he hadn’t tried to hit her since they were teens.

  “Take her away.” Andrew’s tone was as cool as Solon’s.

  She considered a few more responses, but decided not to bother. Her breath was wasted on Andrew and always had been.

  The officer escorted her from the boat to the wagon where the rest of her crew had been taken. A second officer had a rusty set of shackles waiting for her, but they were too large for her wrists. The officer finally gave up and ordered her into the dark wagon.

  “Captain,” Jimmy came to his feet, the shackles clanking on his wrists.

  Before the door was closed, she saw that they had all been cuffed. Even Benji. Then the door closed, shutting out most of the light.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, mortified that it had come to this. “I had no idea that Andrew would respond in such a way. I would never have involved all of you if I’d even suspected.”

  “Who would have helped man the boat if we hadn’t come?” Jimmy asked.

  “I wouldn’t have taken the boat,” she clarified.

  “This is our livelihood, too,” Jimmy insisted.

  “There are plenty of other boats you could sign on to.”

  “As far as I’m concerned there’s only one boat for me,” Eli’s deep voice rumbled out of the darkness.

  “Aye, same here,” Jimmy said.

  “Us, too,” Benji surprised her by answering.

  She dropped onto the bench beside Eli, overcome by their words.

  “That cousin of yours is a black-hearted bastard,” Jimmy said. “No offense, Captain.”

  “None taken.” She smiled at his fervent tone. “I wouldn’t have phrased it so nicely.”

  The wagon lurched forward, and she heard Benji’s soft gasp.

  “Now listen to me,” she said over the rattle of the wheels across the dock boards. “I intend to claim that none of you knew that I had taken the boat without my cousin’s permission.”

  “But captain,” Jimmy began.

  “No. I won’t have you going to jail for this. You have a wife who depends on you. And if you’re thinking anything along these lines, Zach, then you need to think of Benji. Eli, you—”

  “I don’t have anyone, Miss Briar. I won’t leave you alone in some jail with a bunch of convicts.”

  “But, Eli—”

  “That’s final, Captain. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I won’t budge in this.”

  She sighed, well aware that he never backed down when he had his mind made up.

  “What of Mr. Grayson?” Jimmy asked. “Won’t he testify that we kidnapped him?”

  “Mr. Martel, you mean,” she corrected him, still annoyed at Grayson’s deception. But she couldn’t sustain that anger as she thought of the meek manner in which he left with Solon.

  “I don’t think we have to worry about any repercussions t
here,” she said. “I suspect Mr. Martel is in a worse predicament than we are.”

  “But I thought you said Mr. Martel is a ferromancer.”

  “I was wrong,” she admitted. “My friend, Mr. Adams, found no ferromancy in those plans, then Andrew confirmed that Mr. Martel was just an engineer who had adapted some ferro-technology to mundane use—and pissed off a ferromancer in the process.”

  “Oh.” Jimmy’s tone said it all.

  “What’s that ferromancer going to do to Mr. Grayson—I mean, Martel?” Benji asked.

  “I don’t know,” Briar lied. She had a sick feeling that Grayson was going to come away with more scars—and a few less organs.

  They were given a large cell in the downtown jail while they waited to be taken before a judge, Briar assumed. This jail, located on the top floor of the courthouse, served as a holding cell for those awaiting trial. The single, narrow window in their cell provided a way to track the sun as it crossed the sky. As the day faded, her anxiety grew.

  She found herself frequently touching her pocket where Lock hid. It was a painful reminder of his absence. She had truly come to care for the little dragon, and felt his loss deeply.

  As for Grayson, she still couldn’t decide what his true motivation—or even his character—had been. Maybe he did have ulterior motives for everything he did, but he had always come to her defense and had taken care of her when she was injured.

  And try as she might, she couldn’t forget that kiss.

  “You’re going to wear a path in the floor, Captain,” Jimmy called out to her from where he sat on one of the bottom bunks.

  She had been pacing along the iron bars that lined one wall of their cell, and made herself stop.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m probably driving you all crazy, but I don’t do well when I’m forced to stand still.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “We know that, Captain. Aren’t we always the first boat out in the spring?”

  “I’m fortunate I haven’t drowned us by attempting to navigate the spring floods.”

  “We’re better than that, Captain.”

  “True.” She walked over to join Eli at the window. He hadn’t said much since they’d been locked up.

  “You doing all right?” she asked, laying a hand on his arm.

  “I’ll be fine, Miss Briar.”

  “Next time, listen to me. That was the same man who found me in Chillicothe. He’s soulless.”

  “Soulless?” Jimmy asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “As I understand it, ferromancers can take part of your soul to power their technology.”

  “It’s true?” Jimmy asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “They really can lock your soul in iron?”

  “I don’t know if they can take it all, but I know they can take pieces. They cut out your organs and replace them with metal ones.”

  “But the soulless man seemed to work for that Solon guy,” Jimmy said. “Willingly.”

  “I’m just telling you what I know.”

  “Maybe he already swapped out his brain,” Benji said, his tone awed.

  “That would make more sense than working for him willingly,” she agreed.

  “Do you think that’s what he intends to do to Mr. Grayson?” Jimmy asked, reverting to the name they knew him by. “Is he going to take his organs—and his soul?”

  She slumped against the wall beside the window. “I don’t know.” She glanced at Zach, catching the knowing look in his eyes. He had seen Grayson’s scar.

  “I know he works for the railroad and all,” Jimmy said, “but no man should have such a thing done.”

  “No, he shouldn’t,” she whispered.

  A door opened from somewhere down the hall and footsteps approached. A moment later, a guard stepped into view on the other side of the bars.

  “You’re all free to go,” he said, slipping the key in the lock. “Except the girl.”

  “What?” Eli demanded, his voice the loudest, though the others made similar exclamations.

  Briar sighed. It seemed Andrew had come to his senses, mostly. “Gentlemen, please,” she said, once the exclamations had died out. “We’ve discussed this.”

  “Yes, we did,” Eli agreed. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  “You are. Go back to the boat and wait. I’m sure Andrew will drop the charges against me in the morning. He’ll want us to return the boat to Portsmouth. He’s just doing this to me to make a point.”

  Eli’s frown turned uncertain as he thought about it.

  “Don’t make it worse,” she told him. “We’ll play along with Andrew. Maybe, once this matter is settled, I’ll just buy some other boat.”

  “I don’t like this, Captain.”

  “Neither do I, but I don’t have much choice. Now please…” She gestured at the open door.

  Eli finally relented and the rest of the crew followed suit. She hoped they’d leave quietly, but Eli stopped to eye the guard.

  “You’d best not let anything happen to her, understand?”

  “Are you threatening me, sir?” the guard demanded, though he had to tip his head back to look up at Eli.

  “No, he’s not,” Briar quickly added. “He’s just asking you to look after my welfare, which I’m sure a gentleman such as yourself would readily do anyway.”

  “I’m a law-abiding citizen,” the guard answered, perhaps as a subtle dig at their incarceration.

  “As are we all,” she added. “My cousin tends to be temperamental, and completely overreacted when I took the family boat without his leave. You can ask anyone along that canal that I’ve lived on that boat since I was three, and I’ve served as its captain the last two years.”

  “It’s not me you need to convince,” the guard answered before turning to her crew. “If you’re leaving, let’s go. I’ve got supper waiting.”

  The crew relented, and after a few farewells, they walked off down the hall.

  Briar released a breath, glad they’d left without a fuss. She walked over and took a seat on the nearest bunk. This was going to be a long night.

  Briar woke, not certain why. It could have been the scratchy blanket she lay on, the fleas, or perhaps the total lack of anything resembling a mattress between her and the rope-bed frame. With her worries for Grayson and of her own uncertain future, she was surprised she’d dozed off at all.

  Something cold and hard poked her in the cheek, and she recoiled with a gasp.

  A little head leaned in, the moonlight catching on silver scales.

  “Lock,” she whispered on an exhale.

  He blinked his gem-like eyes.

  “What are you doing here? Did Grayson send you?”

  She didn’t realize Lock held something in his jaws until he dropped it on her chest. It was a small scrap of white fabric, perhaps torn from a shirt. Unrolling it, she was surprised to find a written message.

  Sitting up, she climbed from the bunk and walked to the window where the moonlight enabled her to see the words. She immediately recognized Grayson’s elegant hand. It was the same as the writing on the locomotive plans. But the rust-colored ink suggested it wasn’t ink at all.

  Miss Rose,

  I’m giving you Lock. Love him, and he will be forever yours. Fear not, soon Solon will be unable to sense him.

  Forgive me,

  Grayson Martel

  Lock landed on her shoulder.

  “What does this mean?” she whispered to him. “Why won’t Solon be able to sense you?”

  Lock moaned, an utterly forlorn sound, and rubbed his cheek against hers.

  “Do you know where Grayson is?” she asked. “Can you take me to him?”

  The little dragon perked up, his tail swishing in eagerness.

  “Good. But first I need to get out of here.” She turned back toward the door. “Can you help?”

  Lock sprang into the air and, flapping his delicate wings, flew across the room to land on the bars of her cell with a soft clink of metal
on metal. Apparently, Solon hadn’t damaged him when he’d squeezed him earlier, which surprised her. Of course with Lock’s ability to change forms, perhaps he could repair damage as well.

  Climbing around to the other side of the door, Lock disappeared from view as he crawled to where the door lock was housed. A clank sounded a moment later, and the door swung open an inch or two.

  Lock climbed up to a cross bar and gave her an expectant look.

  Smiling, Briar hurried across the room. She pulled the door open, going slowly in case a hinge squeaked, and looked out into the hall. There was no one around.

  Lock hopped down onto her shoulder as she left her cell. She gently closed the door behind her, making her escape a little less obvious.

  Her cell had been the last in line and only a few feet from the stairwell door. She tested the knob and found it locked.

  “Can you help with this one, too?” she whispered to Lock.

  He hopped down to the knob, his nails tinking softly against the metal knob. He stretched out his tail and slipped it into the keyhole. An instant later, a snap sounded.

  A flap of his wings, and Lock returned to her shoulder.

  “I should call you Lockpick,” she whispered, opening the door. She stepped into the stairwell and closed the door behind her.

  Lock jumped to the newel post on the flight going up.

  “Are you suggesting I go up? What if there isn’t a way down?”

  Lock spread his wings.

  “That works for you, but I can’t fly.”

  He cocked his head, and she had the impression that he found that odd.

  A door closed below them, echoing up the stairs.

  “I guess that decides it,” she whispered. “Come on.” She hurried up the stairs, and Lock leapt to her shoulder as she passed. She’d have to take her chances on the roof.

  After climbing the single flight of stairs, she stopped before a door at the top. Like the other, it was locked, but the little dragon went to work on it without being asked. A moment later, she stepped out onto the roof.

  “Where to now?” she asked.

  Locked jumped into the air and, spreading his wings, flew to one side. He landed on the low stone wall surrounding the roof.