When Kali drew even with Amelia, she paused, again looking to her wrench. The woman was still shoveling coal. Kali might never get a better chance to sneak up behind her and strike her in the head with the wrench. The idea of employing such violence made her queasy. Even if Amelia had proven herself an enemy and wronged Kali more than once, could she truly beat another human being senseless? It would be one thing to fight back, defending herself in a skirmish, but this? As far as Kali knew, Amelia didn’t have the flash gold, so what would even be gained by beating on her?
A hatch opened behind the woman, and a man in a long coat strode out. He did not look toward Kali, instead walking straight toward the flying machine. Amelia turned and spoke to the man, holding out her hand. The noise of the rain pelting the deck kept Kali from hearing what she said. Was he about to hand Amelia the flash gold? He didn’t look like he was holding anything in his hands, and it wasn’t as if such a large and heavy block of gold could be carried in a pocket.
He waved a piece of rolled paper held in his hand, saying something in response.
Not sure of how much time she had, Kali continued along the railing as soon as neither person was looking in her direction. Amelia could leave any second if all she was waiting for was for him to hand her something.
Once the flying machine blocked Kali from their view, she left the railing, picking a route through the shadows to the rear of the contraption. She ran her hand along the patchwork hull, mulling over how she might disable the craft, at least long enough to keep Amelia from leaving tonight. A part of her rebelled at the idea of doing any damage to something she could have seen herself building. Although, she couldn’t have built it in quite the same way. As she touched the hull, a faint tingle of electricity made the hair on the back of her arm stand up. Amelia might use coal as the fuel source, and there might be a typical boiler and furnace set up behind the pilot’s seat, but from the first time Kali had seen the machine, she’d suspected some magic lay about it. It seemed far too heavy for the mesh butterfly wings to carry it through the air on the basis of physics alone.
“I can’t give you no guarantees, woman,” the man said. “That’s what was in his cabin, and that’s all I can offer. Might be a map to treasure. Might be a map to his snake collection.”
“This is unacceptable,” Amelia said, her voice cold. “I’ve helped you amplify your explosives, and I’ve created more of the powder, as he requested, though I’ll likely go to Hell for the assistance I’ve given you.”
The man grunted. “We ain’t the pinnacle of all that’s evil in the world.”
“You’re thieves and murderers.”
“Aye, what’s your point?”
Kali gripped one of the wings and pulled herself up, so she could access the back of the machine. She had no idea how to sabotage whatever was magical about the craft, but she could mess with the engine. She remembered the way Amelia had sabotaged the self-automated bicycle by shoving some tarry goop into the smokestack to keep the venting from working. It would be poetic to pay her back in the same way, but Kali didn’t have any goop handy. Instead, she simply used her wrench on the main steam pipe, working as quietly as she could to twist it, trying to puncture a hole.
“If these directions don’t lead me to the flash gold,” Amelia said after a moment, “you better believe I’ll be back.”
Kali couldn’t see either of them or what they were doing. She felt both hope and disappointment that Amelia didn’t already have the flash gold. She’d had notions of causing the flying machine to crash, then skimming down the rope, grabbing Cedar, and rushing to the crash site to steal it from Amelia before she recovered.
“Aye, we’ll look forward to your return.” The man grunted, about as sincere as a fish telling a bear it was a pleasure to be eaten.
A clunk sounded in the cockpit, and a shadow moved at the edge of Kali’s vision. She flattened herself to the boiler, afraid Amelia would spot her. The hot metal burned her belly through her shirt. The machine shuddered—getting ready for liftoff?
Kali risked a final twist with her wrench. Steam hissed as a seal broke. She slithered over the back end of the machine, knowing she couldn’t leap straight down if Amelia was already in the cockpit. The woman would easily see her.
Her trouser leg snagged on a bolt as she slipped toward the deck, holding her leg in place so that she landed on one foot, far more awkwardly and heavily than she intended. She yanked her foot down, feeling the tear of fabric. She was right under the tail of the flying machine, and she lowered her head to see if the man had spotted her. She hoped he would already be on his way back into the cabin. Instead, he stood a few feet away, staring at her.
“Who’s that?” he blurted, grabbing for a six-shooter hanging from his belt.
Kali threw her wrench at his face. The tail of the flying machine lifted off, almost clubbing her in the head as Amelia immediately turned it toward the back railing.
The man ducked Kali’s wrench and ran toward her. She should have raced for the grappling hook and fled back down to the river, but she didn’t have the flash gold and she didn’t have Amelia. Fleeing now was unacceptable, damn it.
She ran to the far side of the flying machine, using it for cover in case the man meant to shoot. The craft had already risen a couple of feet—Kali feared her sabotage would not keep it from taking off. It might crash soon after doing so, but that didn’t help her now. Kali jumped onto one of the skis, and pulled herself toward the cockpit.
Amelia looked at her in surprise, immediately reaching for something in a pocket or perhaps under the seat. Aware of the man racing around the tail of the machine to get to her, Kali flung herself into the cockpit, having a notion of overpowering the older woman and taking over the craft. If she could figure out how to work the controls, maybe she could escape in it, or maybe she could drive the man below decks. The machine had weapons—she well remembered being fired upon by them.
Amelia lifted her arm, something clenched in her fist. Kali clubbed her in the side of the face with her elbow at the same time as she slapped that fist away with the other hand. Amelia tried to avoid the slap, but Kali caught her just as she was opening her palm to throw a vial, a dark substance visible inside. Instead of flying at Kali, the vial crashed to the deck. Glass shattered on the wet boards, and purple smoke flooded the air. Kali wrestled with Amelia, trying to tug the woman from her seat and shove her over the side, even as the distant and rational part of her mind acknowledged that this was idiotic, that she was going to get herself killed.
The smoke should have dissipated quickly in the wind and rain, but a sickly odor reached Kali’s nose. The urge to vomit immediately followed. Was Amelia holding her breath? It was hard to tell in the chaos.
Someone grabbed Kali’s leg—the man. She thrust back with her foot, trying to kick him in the face. Even though Kali was proving stronger than Amelia, it didn’t matter. The older woman was belted into the seat. There was no way Kali would get her out.
Another tug on her leg nearly yanked her out of the cockpit. Kali grabbed Amelia with one hand and used the other to grip a wheel that looked to be the means of navigation. The flying machine swung abruptly to the side as she pulled on it, the movement more dramatic since the man was also pulling on her. The skis clacked against the deck, and the tail spun in a circle. One of the flapping wings came down on the man’s head, and he finally let go of Kali, knocked onto his back in the middle of the purple smoke.
Wretched coughs came from his throat, along with gagging sounds, but Kali soon lost track of him as the flying machine continued to swing, first bumping against the deck, and then caroming off the envelope up above. Kali had a wild hope that the wings might cut into the envelope and do damage to the airship, as well as Amelia’s flying craft, but all that happened was that the smaller vessel bounced off.
“What are you doing?” Amelia growled, reaching for Kali’s eyes, fingers curled into claws.
With both of her hands busy hanging on
as the spinning craft threatened to fling her over the railing, all Kali could do was snap at those fingers with her teeth. She caught one, biting down on a nail. Amelia hissed and yanked her hand back.
“Give me those directions,” Kali snarled, even though she had no way to threaten the woman. “You’ve already destroyed half of my flash gold. Isn’t that enough?”
The rain and wind nearly drowned out her words, a huge gust sweeping across the deck and buffeting the already out of control flying machine. She didn’t even know if the other woman heard her.
“God, it’s you,” Amelia snarled, recognition lighting her eyes for the first time. She grabbed Kali’s forearm, trying to rip her hand from the wheel.
Kali cracked her forehead against Amelia’s face. The other woman tried to duck her chin to protect herself, but Kali’s skull met her nose with a satisfying crunch. For a second, Amelia seemed dazed. Though they were still spinning, and she could hear shouting as the commotion drew men out onto the deck, Kali took the moment to dig into Amelia’s pockets, hoping to find whatever the gangster had given her.
A folded piece of paper rested inside the first one she checked. She yanked it out just as the tail slammed into the wooden cabin in the center of the deck. A painful crunch assailed her ears, and the machine jolted. Expecting it to crash, Kali leaped free. She had the directions. Now if she could just escape...
But when she landed, she toppled to her butt immediately, too dizzy to stand after all of that spinning. It wouldn’t have mattered. No less than ten men had heard the noise and come running, revolvers and rifles in their hands, the weapons now pointed at Kali. A couple of other men had weapons trained on the flying machine, as if it was some independent monster that might attack the crew. After its crash, it had skidded several meters and run into the railing, breaking it before slumping to the deck, its wings still flapping feebly. Smoke came out of the cockpit, and steam hissed from the pipe Kali had damaged.
Her stomach heaved as two big men strode toward her. She staggered to her feet, tempted to run and try to reach the railing. Even if she was nowhere near the hook and rope, if the river lay below, she might survive a fall. But she was too slow, too dizzy and nauseated. The men would be lucky if she didn’t throw up on their boots. They loomed to either side of her, denying escape. The last thing she managed to do before they had both of her arms was stuff her stolen piece of paper into her smallclothes.
• • • • •
The last time Kali had been imprisoned on an airship, her captors had been thoughtful enough to deposit her in the boiler room with access to a workstation full of tools. Alas, she was not so lucky this time. They stuffed her into a dark closet with nothing but a mop bucket, a mop, and a broom. How odd that gangsters would keep tools for tidying their airship. She imagined such people preferring grime and sloth to cleaning duties. But she supposed Cudgel himself had been well manicured. Maybe he’d insisted on tidiness. Or maybe this had been a military airship before the gangsters had purchased it—or stolen it. Or blackmailed people for it.
All that mattered now was that the door was sturdy and so was the lock. She had already tested both, as her sore shoulder attested. Her captors had patted her down and taken what few tools she’d had, so her shoulder had been all she’d had to use. When the men had searched her, they had also found Amelia’s journal and taken it. Kali wished she had thought to copy it before bringing it up here. There just hadn’t been time. None of the men had probed into her smallclothes and found the paper Kali had taken from Amelia, but she wasn’t sure how much of a victory that was. As soon as Amelia recovered, she would demand to see Kali and have her searched again for her missing note. The gangsters might very well shoot her too. She’d caused trouble, and she couldn’t imagine why they would flinch from casting her over the side or simply sinking a bullet into her skull.
“Foolish, Kali. Foolish.” Why hadn’t she waited for Cedar? Yes, it might have been too late to stop Amelia if she had, but what had she gained by that ill-thought-out attack? Nothing.
Kali touched her clothing, feeling the outline of the paper. Too bad there wasn’t a lantern in the broom closet so she could read what she had fought so hard to steal.
Voices sounded outside of the door. Had the gangsters come for her already? Or was it Amelia? She had only been in the closet for a few minutes. She’d thought she would have longer to come up with a means of escape or at least some clever story she might use to get out of unpleasantries.
“...have fun with her first?” one man said, his voice growing distinct as he came closer to the closet.
Kali grimaced at the idea of being one of these thug’s fun, but she grimaced even more when the second man spoke.
“Nah, Sawtooth said to shoot her. She’s nobody important, and she wrecked up the ship real bad.”
Nobody important? That statement, and the talk of shooting, made Kali long for the days when people had wanted to wrench the secrets of flash gold from her. Was it possible she could talk to these men now and promise them such secrets? Did they know anything about it? Maybe Sawtooth or whoever was in charge had already seen the notes in the journal and thought he had enough information to figure out its secrets.
“It wouldn’t take long. Been a while since we got to call on some girls. Don’t see why we got to blow up this town without pulling out the women first. Who threatens women? Sawtooth ain’t right in the head. Cudgel was piles smarter.”
“You see this one? She ain’t worth visiting in any sense of the word. All man-clothes and plainness.”
Even though insults to her looks were the last thing Kali should have been worrying about, she couldn’t keep from scowling. She wasn’t plain, damn it. She just didn’t see the point of wearing face paint and impractical clothing. Cedar appreciated her just like she was. She wished she hadn’t run off and left him below. She also wished she’d kissed him a few more times and teased him less about courting.
A hand tried the doorknob. Kali patted around, searching for some chemicals or detergents she might fling as weapons. But she had already searched and not found any such things. She grabbed the broom handle and stepped on the bottom portion, breaking it off. What was that weapon Robin Hood’s friar friend had used in the old stories? A quarterstaff?
A key turned in the lock. Kali waited, wishing there was room in the closet for her to bring the broomstick up so she could smack it down on the first head that appeared.
A boom sounded. A cannon firing?
Whoever had been opening the door paused. Someone shouted an order in the distance. Kali thought she made out the word “attack” in the midst of it.
Since the door had already been unlocked, Kali tried the knob. It had already been turned—someone was holding it but not opening the door. She didn’t know why the man had paused, but she kicked at the door as hard as she could. It flew back a foot, then smacked into someone. Kali squirmed out through the opening foot, hearing the person stumble backward. She drove the broken tip of the broomstick into the first target she spotted—a man’s vest. He jumped back, and she ended up catching him in the crotch instead of the stomach. Her weapon lacked the admirable heft of an axe or sledgehammer, but the man gasped and doubled over as he grabbed his block-and-tackle with one hand and reached for the makeshift quarterstaff with the other.
Kali didn’t give him time to grip it. She drew back just enough to give herself space to jerk it upward. She caught the tip of his chin. As his head flew back, she jabbed him again and again, trying to drive him backward so she couldn’t easily be shoved into the closet again. She also knew that a second man was back there, and she hoped she might get them tangled up and in each other’s way before he figured out how to help.
A thud sounded, something striking the back of her foe’s head. The man dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Confused, Kali crouched, her broomstick in both hands, ready to attack again.
Cedar stood in the middle of the passageway, arching his eyebrows a
t her. He wore two rifles strapped behind his back, a weapons belt heavy with revolvers around his waist, and he carried a cutlass in one hand and a hatchet in the other. His hair was plastered to his head, and he was wetter than a cat that had fallen in the bathwater.
“You came.” Kali wasn’t surprised—hadn’t he come to rescue her from her impetuousness before?—but the flood of appreciation that washed over her surprised her, or at least the intensity of it. She dropped her broomstick and flung her arms around him, glancing down the passageway just long enough to make sure enemies weren’t storming in their direction before planting a kiss firmly on his lips.
Cedar blinked a few times before managing to awkwardly return the hug—he still held the sword and hatchet, so that made it a might hard. He also returned the kiss, making pleased noises, though he was the first one to break it.
“I appreciate that, Kali, especially since you haven’t always been so demonstrative when I’ve stormed onto airships looking for you, but we’re not safe here.” He rested his forehead against hers before pulling away fully, then gave her another quick kiss and lowered his arms.
“I know, and I reckon that’s a mistake.” She reached down for the broomstick since she lacked a better weapon, realizing that Cedar had taken care of the second man before she had ever rushed out of the closet.
“Us not being safe?” Cedar asked as more cannons fired from somewhere nearby and the airship shuddered beneath their feet.
“Me not being more demonstrative. Cedar, I’m reasonably sure I love you. I’m not real good at expressing such feelings—you might have noticed that—but they’re there.”
This time he blinked even more times before finding his tongue. “I love you, too, Kali.”
“Enough to share your weapons with me?”
“I don’t know. You were poking that fellow rather effectively with that—is that a broomstick?”
“I was thinking of it as a quarterstaff and myself like Friar Tuck.”
“I don’t think Friar Tuck ever jabbed a man in his bear cubs.”
Liberty Page 10
