by Anna Bowman
“I can get you anything you need. I have to make a run to Trader’s Cove in one week, depending on how fast Jank can finish with the airship. Make a list for me.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck.
“I’ll be able to ask around about your S. L. while we’re there.”
Right.
It was strange how the matter had slipped her mind after being her only consuming thought for so long.
“Sounds good,” she said.
“Alright then.” Solomand leaned towards her and held his hand out. “Allow me to officially welcome you aboard, Rayn.” A smile played on his lips. “Just Rayn.”
Rayn hesitated, lost for a moment in his eyes. They almost looked like dark-blue storm clouds, drawing her in. She took his hand, returning a smile.
“Thanks. I think.”
His hand was rough and damp with sweat as his fingers tightened around hers. With a quick jerk, he drew his hand away.
“If you need anything let me know.”
He cleared his throat and hurried out of the room, flexing his fingers at his side.
Chapter 11
Rayn
On reflection, a week’s worth of waiting was not good at all. Rayn didn’t know what time it was when she awoke to the darkness in the windowless room. She was wide awake, so she assumed it was morning. Rolling over, she switched on the lamp and proceeded to slip into her clothes. She strapped on her gun belt, laid her coat on the bed, and left the room, creeping downstairs.
Darkness forced her to feel her way along the hall until a dull light from the kitchen guided her the rest of the way. As she stepped into the doorway, she saw the engineer bent over a sketchbook on the table, eyes squinted as his hand moved back and forth. His hair was messier than usual, and his baggy undershirt was untucked. Bare feet were crossed under the table.
Rayn wasn’t aware of how little noise she’d made walking in until Jank looked up from his drawing. Eyes washed over with terror as his whole body jerked, then relaxed.
“You gave me a damn scare, Rayn.” His pencil dropped to the table.
“Sorry.” Rayn took a step inside. “Where’s your Captain?”
Jank flipped the leather-bound book shut in a hurried sweep of his hand and reached for a cup of coffee.
“Sol?” He looked as if she’d asked him something ridiculous. “He’ll not be up for hours.”
His head motioned to the clock on the wall, and Rayn looked to see the time. It wasn’t even 0400 hours yet. Her shoulders slumped.
This is going to be a long week.
She rubbed the back of her neck and turned back to Jank.
“What are you doing up at this ungodly hour then?”
The engineer yawned.
“I usually am.”
Rubbing a hand along her arm, Rayn looked back at the clock.
Won’t be up for hours, huh?
That wouldn’t do.
“Where’s Solomand’s room?”
Jank choked on a sip of coffee and set the cup down, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “
Oh, you can’t mean to go and wake him. Not now.”
A devious smile escaped her lips, and Rayn said, “Why not?”
Springing to his feet, Jank said, lowering his voice as if he was afraid to wake someone else, “He’ll kill me for starters!”
He looked like he genuinely believed this would be the outcome, but Rayn had made up her mind.
“How will he know it was you that told me?”
“He’ll damn-well find out. He always does.”
Jank threw his hands in the air.
Rayn ran a finger on her scarred chin.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to search the whole Castle to find him.”
Looking almost more horrified than before, Jank tugged on his ear as he considered his options.
“It’ll only be this once. I promise,” Rayn said.
Jank swallowed.
“Alright,” he said in a whisper. “Up the stairs—the last room down the hall.” He turned stiffly and began pulling ingredients from the cabinet. “And you didn’t see me!”
“Thanks,” Rayn said, grinning, but Jank did not answer.
✽ ✽ ✽
Knocking would have been the appropriate thing to do. Rayn twisted the handle and opened the door to Solomand’s room, easing it open one inch at a time to avoid making any noise. There was an electric lamp still lit on a bedside table. The bed was more of a cot than a bunk, and there was little room for anything else in the cramped space.
A pile of dirty clothes was heaped in the corner and papers littered the nightstand: maps, scrolls, and letters written in a language she couldn’t read. Solomand lay on his stomach, buried under a pile of sheets and green blanket, one arm draped over the side touching the floor.
Rayn’s eyes were drawn to the only thing which seemed out of place in the room: a painting hanging directly above the cot. A late summer-blue sky was marked with lazy white clouds and framed by trees. Invisible wind jostled grass along the bank of a mirror-like river. A man stood on a green hill, holding the hand of a small boy. Standing by the river, there was a woman wearing a brown dress with beads woven into her dark braid who waved at the two.
Rayn crept closer, wanting to get a better look at the scene. The toe of her boot found Solomand’s finger instead. In a wild leap, he was out of bed, revolver drawn from under his pillow, cocked and pointed at her head.
Her breath caught in her throat, and Rayn saw a dark look of alarm give way to horror. His shaking thumb lowered the hammer, and he threw the revolver onto a heap of laundry in the corner and sank to his bed.
“Holy God, Rayn!”
He pulled a shirt over his head and sank his face into his hands, taking long, deliberate breaths.
Looking up at her through his fingers he asked in a quiet, out-of-place tone, “What. Do. You want?”
Becoming aware of her heart racing, Rayn recovered enough to clear her throat. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Solomand’s hands dropped to his knees, and he gave her a trenchant look.
“Funny. Neither can I.”
He glanced at the cigarette case, which lay on the floor by his boots and took a pronounced breath.
“Well, Rayn…since neither of us can seem to sleep, care to join me for a cup of coffee?” He gestured to himself. “I should probably put some clothes on first.”
Rayn’s cheeks became hot as she realized the shirt that he so hastily pulled on came just past his thighs, and he wasn’t wearing any pants.
“Fine. I’ll meet you in the kitchen, then.”
She tried not to sound flustered as she hurried out and shut the door.
✽ ✽ ✽
Bacon sizzled in a skillet on the stove as Jank poured milk into a mixing bowl. He looked up at Rayn as she entered, then quickly back to the batter he stirred. Rayn sat down at the table and braided her hair to one side as she waited.
Ten minutes later, Solomand walked in dressed in a clean, less-wrinkled shirt, which was tucked inside his pants. She noticed he did not wear his gun. Jank offered him a cup of coffee, and he took it without a word, eyes jabbing at the engineer.
“Coffee?” Jank asked Rayn, his back to Solomand.
He gave her an ‘I told you he’d know’ expression.
“Yes—thanks,” she said.
Solomand picked up the pot before Jank could and poured her a cup, all the while giving Jank a sideways stare. He handed the mug to Rayn and sat down across from her.
“Tell me.” He took a sip, his gaze catching hers. “Is there a particular reason you wanted to…talk to me at,” he glanced at the clock, “bullshit-hundred hours?”
Rayn was waiting for him to lose his temper or tell her off. There had been something different in those steely eyes as they were on the other end of a gun, something cold and lethal. Now, there was no trace of that haunted, determined look, and no reaction came.
Rayn took a gulp of coffee an
d ran a hand along her forehead.
“A week is too long to wait,” she said. “I need something to do.”
The line around Solomand’s eyes seemed to draw in. Otherwise, he offered no reaction. “Need something to do,” he said in an almost wistful tone as he drank his coffee. His hand ran along his stubbled chin. “Well, I’ve just the thing for you.”
He sat his cup down and stood, stretching.
“Oh, and, I have no objections to you paying me a visit in my quarters—but next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d knock first.”
The sound of a spatula clanging on the stove mixed with the popping of grease. Rayn tried to look nonchalant. She finished her coffee and nodded.
“Sure thing,” she said, although she had no intention of intruding on him again.
Chapter 12
Solomand
In God’s name!
It was a curse his parents would not have approved, and he only ever used it in situations where his nerves were torn to shreds. He kept replaying the scene in his mind; Rayn standing there and his revolver aimed at her—his—hand poised to fire.
I might have killed her!
His hand moved to his left side where his shirt hid a small, black tattoo.
She might have seen that too.
Sighing, he trudged down the hall to Zee’s room and pushed the door open.
The girl slept on a loft bed. Solomand built it for her when she was nearly eight. Now, five years later, she still slept like a rock.
A silvery orb replica of the Moon Breman gave off a soft glow on her desk, casting light against a pocket knife and a stack of books. Solomand walked over to the bunk and shook the girl’s hand.
“Zee.”
She sat up, awake in an instant.
“What is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Get dressed,” he said. “We’re going hunting.”
“Really?”
Enthusiasm carried in her voice, and she swung herself from the bed, landing on bare feet.
“Yes, really.” Solomand scowled at her acrobatics. “Bring your rifle. I’ll be out front.”
He shut the door as he left the girl to get ready and went back upstairs for his coat.
In his room, he knelt down and dragged two long guns from underneath his cot. He opened the drawer on the nightstand and grabbed a box of shells. The revolver, which he felt almost naked without, remained in the corner, the thought of what might have happened still fresh in his mind.
Outside, Rayn was waiting, the full moon reflected in her eyes of summer green. Her mouth twisted into a doubtful frown.
“Hunting?”
“Yes.” Solomand handed her the longer of the rifles.
It was equipped with iron sights and built for long-range. Rayn would have no problem without an optic.
“Meat costs money, which we’re running low on. Here, it’s free for the taking.”
Rayn clutched the gun in one hand and loaded it with the other.
“What are we hunting?” she asked.
“Mostly those annoying tree rats. But if you see anything larger, feel free to take it.”
Rayn stopped.
“Squirrels? With this?” She looked from Solomand to the rifle as she lodged the last round in place. “They’ll be blown to hell.”
Solomand wanted a cigarette badly. He fumbled with the ammunition box, trying to load his own gun and shells spilled on the ground.
“You wanted something to do.” He bent to pick up the ammunition, feeling jittery and agitated. “And since we are awake at this ungodly hour, we are doing something.”
Rayn shrugged, to his relief. The door slammed shut as Zee skidded out of the Castle, a lever-action in a smaller caliber carefully pointed at the ground.
“Alright.”
Solomand reached into his pocket, meaning to get a cigarette but stopped. The animals would smell it. His lips pursed together as he bit back a curse.
“Follow me,” he said and started the long walk down into the valley.
They settled into a quiet spot, nestled by the creek overlooking the valley. Solomand let Zee hunt here by herself sometimes. Now, as the three of them waited, the horizon gleamed with the first light of dawn. Squirrels skittered through the trees, barking and scuffling with each other, leaping from branch to branch.
Rayn scowled upwards.
“There’s nothing to them,” she muttered as Zee aimed for one.
She was right. Solomand sighed.
“They’re better than nothing.”
He managed to hide his agitation.
“Look!”
Zee tensed up and lowered the barrel of her gun. Inching forward on all fours, she pointed into the open fields below. A sambar doe made her way across the dew-wet grass. It would be at least a two hundred and fifty-yard shot.
Rayn rested the long rifle against a tree and pulled the stock into her shoulder. Solomand squinted into the valley, holding his breath as Rayn’s right eye opened as her finger closed around the trigger.
There was movement in the grass behind the doe as she stopped and turned. Two fawns moved from the cover of brush to follow, and Solomand’s heart sank.
Damn.
Why did she have to have babies? She would have given them meat for a couple of months.
“Never mind,” he leaned over to tell Rayn. “She’s got—” the word ‘young’ didn’t make it out of his mouth. The crack of the rifle ruptured the silence, and the doe dropped in place.
“What a shot!” Zee was on her feet, looking at Rayn with the same sort of awe she usually reserved for Solomand alone. Solomand was aware his mouth was hanging open as he stared at Rayn, eyes wide in a frown kind of shock.
“What the hell? Rayn.” He said when he did manage to speak.
“What?” she pushed the safety lever in place and laid the rifle on the ground. “You said if I saw anything bigger to take it.”
“She had young! There is such a thing as ethics when hunting, you know.”
Rayn tore off her coat and tossed it down by the rifle.
“Their spots are gone. They can fend for themselves, or did you prefer to eat mangled tree rats?”
“Well, no, but…”
Rayn shook her head at him.
“That was amazing!” Zee said, eyes wide.
“Thanks,” Rayn gave the girl a smile and started down the slope where the deer lay.
Solomand lit a cigarette, a slight tremor still present in his hand. He gave Zee a sideways glance.
“I don’t think you should hang around Rayn too much.”
“Why not? She’s awesome,” Zee laid her gun down.
Solomand let the smoke fill his lungs and nodded at her.
“That right there. That’s why. She brings out a devil in you, girl.”
Zee, laughing, said, “Ah, come on, Sol. She’s not that bad, or you never woulda brought her here.”
She scampered after Rayn. Solomand trailed after the two of them.
In truth, he did not mind the girl’s admiration for Rayn. However, Rayn would not always be here. For a moment, he’d forgotten that. But now, a misery welled up inside him, knowing she had to go.
Chapter 13
Rayn
For all his looks of disapproval, Solomand helped Rayn gut the deer, something she couldn’t remember doing before but got the hang of rather quickly. Zee was eager to help, carrying all three guns as Rayn and Solomand hauled the doe back to the dock.
The girl puzzled Rayn. She didn’t look anything like Solomand, so she did not think he was her father. Still, the way he acted he may as well have been: the way she looked up to him and his watchful eye as she grew careless with a knife.
Rayn wasn’t going to ask, especially after this morning. Solomand hadn’t scared her, but she was more wary of him. She’d seen plenty of Coalition veterans in Ashbury, all with the same, tense stare. They might brag about kicking the Insurgent’s ass, but most of them didn’t want to talk about what
had happened when it came down to it. But Solomand was an Insurgent veteran, and there was something different guarded just beneath the surface of his sarcasm.
Crouching back on his heels, Solomand slung blood from his hands as he finished scraping fat from the hide with his knife.
“What are you going to do with it?” Rayn asked him, as she continued to cut chunks of meat off the animal’s hind leg and place them in a crate.
“Salt it. It’ll be good for trading with the Kree.”
He glanced up as Will was walking down the hill towards them.
“Will! Send Jank out here with some salt,” he called, and with a nod.
Will turned back up the walkway.
“Give the little weasel something to do,” Sol muttered, making Rayn wonder if he was still mad at the boy.
He turned to her, his hands held out in front of him, covered in a mix of fresh and dried blood and grit.
“Well, Rayn. I trust dealing with this is enough to keep you busy for a while.”
He gave her a grim smile and started back towards the Castle.
It did keep her busy. Maybe more than she realized it would. For the rest of the day, she helped Will and Jank cut the meat and turn it out on racks for drying; some of it they salted and some they smoked. By the day’s end, she washed all the grime from herself and fell asleep with ease.
✽ ✽ ✽
It wasn’t morning yet. She knew it when her eyes opened, and the stillness carried through the Castle louder than noise. Uttering a curse, she kicked the blankets off and sat up. After yesterday, the thought of harassing Solomand was not an option. After ten minutes, she got dressed and dug out a cleaning kit from her bag and decided to go to the kitchen.
Not even Jank was up this time. The clock ticked away, showing the nearing time was even earlier than the previous night. Rayn sank to the table and disassembled her revolver before scrubbing at the pieces with her brushes and files. It wasn’t like there was any debris to be cleaned off, but it calmed her to have something to do.
She hadn’t been at it very long when someone walked into the kitchen. Looking up, she saw Jank, a glazed look on his eyes. He looked past her and walked to the sink.
