Kali could certainly understand going to any lengths in pursuit of one’s passions. “Don’t get discouraged. You do real fine work.”
She caught a strange expression on Cedar’s face.
“What?” she asked.
“Just wondering if I should be jealous of a ten-year-old boy,” he said.
“Why?” Tadzi stared up at him—he only came up to Kali’s shoulder, so he had to tilt his head way back to look Cedar in the eyes.
“Because she’s more impressed by your carving than by my skirmishing skills, even though I navigated heaps of pirates fighting harder than Kilkenny Cats, retrieved that surly fellow’s gold, cut the belt that held up the captain’s pants, and escaped the mob by leaping over the railing from forty feet in the air.”
Tadzi turned his incredulous stare onto Kali. “You are?”
Kali shrugged. “I get to see him do stuff like that all the time. Though—” she nodded at Cedar, “—you didn’t mention the part about the captain’s pants.”
“They fell clear to his ankles and hobbled him like a horse,” Cedar said.
“Nice. Tadzi, are you from Moosehide?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How did you learn such good English?” When Kali had been a girl, it hadn’t been spoken at all amongst the tribe, and only a couple of men who negotiated with traders and trappers knew any at all.
“I’ve been working at it real hard,” Tadzi said. “I talk to any white people I can. Someday, I want to…” He chomped down on his lip and eyed the ground. “I shouldn’t say.”
Maybe he was someone like Kali had been, someone who always knew he would leave someday. “Can you take us there? Introduce us to the medicine man?”
Tadzi brightened. “Can we ride there on that?” He nearly threw his shoulder out of joint in his eagerness to point at the SAB. “I saw its smoke, and that’s what made me come down here. I bet riding it is a hog-killin’ time.”
“There’s not room for three,” Cedar said.
Kali gave him a frank look.
“Oh.”
“You’re tough,” she said. “You ran through that whole dog-sled course beside me.”
Cedar patted the boy on the shoulder. “Looks like I’ve another reason to be jealous of you.”
Part V
Moosehide lay on a flat stretch of land next to the river, with a tall, craggy ridge guarding it from behind. The fog had finally cleared, and a dozen canoes and fishing boats floated in front of the camp, several with nets stretched between them. Square moss houses squatted alongside the shoreline, and those people who weren’t fishing worked out in front of them, drying and cleaning the catch.
A few ornery nerves tangled in Kali’s belly as her little group approached the camp. Would anyone remember her? Would anyone care that she had returned? She sniffed. Not that she cared if they cared.
“Are they likely to be a problem?” Cedar pointed at a trio of men lurking in the trees to the side of the trail. He was running alongside the SAB while Kali drove and Tadzi hung on.
“No,” Tadzi said, shouting to be heard over the rumbling of the engine. “That’s my cousin and his friends. They’re supposed to be hunting, but they’re likely hiding from the chief and drinking again. When he finds out, he’ll rustle up some punishment for them.”
“I’d be more concerned about that fellow watching us with a shotgun in hand.” Kali nodded toward the trail ahead of them. It was a foregone conclusion that nobody here had seen anything like her steam-powered bicycle before. She didn’t think anyone would mistake it for some attack vehicle and shoot, but one never knew.
“He’s out in the open,” Cedar said. “Likely a guard for the camp.”
“Guards aren’t usual for the camps. At least they weren’t when I was a girl.” Kali twisted her head around to ask Tadzi, “Is there usually a guard out while people are fishing?”
“It’s on account of the murders.”
Now Cedar’s head whipped about, and he pinned the boy with a stare. “Murders? Have women been killed here too?”
“Not here,” Tadzi said, “but we heard about our people being killed in your town.”
“It’s not our town,” Cedar said. “We’re just visitors.”
Tadzi’s brow wrinkled.
“From the Hän point of view, all the white people here are just visitors,” Kali pointed out.
“Lots of visitors,” Tadzi said. “I don’t mind. I like your people. And your shiny contraptions!” He patted the seat.
As the SAB drew near, the man with the shotgun stepped onto the trail to block their way. Kali did not recognize him, though he was young enough that they should have been children at the same time. Maybe he had come from another tribe through marriage.
He wore the same sort of wool britches as the folks in Dawson, a derby hat, and a beaded caribou shirt. Though Kali had seen Hän in town wearing a mixture of traditional clothing with white man’s garb, it was strange seeing it here, in a true Hän setting. She remembered a few men in the tribe having prize coats or dusters they had traded furs for, but everyone had worn predominantly caribou or buckskin clothing when she’d been a girl. But the men, women, and children working and playing throughout Moosehide wore a mix.
“Who are these people, Tadzi?” the man asked in the Hän tongue.
“Friends,” Tadzi said. “They stopped the sky bandits.”
Kali thought she might get a curious look, since she had Hän hair and skin coloring and wore her tool-stuffed overalls instead of a dress, but the SAB itself captured more of the man’s attention. He walked about it, studying it from all angles, his shotgun drooping.
Cedar noted the lowered weapon and shook his head with a soft, “Tsk, tsk” on his lips. No, not exactly a military-trained guard.
Kali supposed she should introduce herself and let the man know she understood the language, but she couldn’t decide whether to use her Hän name or the one she had chosen for herself when her father hadn’t been able to pronounce the other.
“I’m Kali,” she said, deciding she wanted the name she had chosen, “and this is Cedar. We’d like to talk to…is Kesuk still the medicine man?”
The guard’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his hat. “Yes,” he finally said. “Wait here.”
“I’ll go with him,” Tadzi said, still speaking in English. “I’ll tell the anatkok you help people. He doesn’t care much for…” He looked up at Cedar.
“Understood,” Cedar said.
When they were alone, he came to stand beside Kali and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.”
“You seem tense. And grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy,” Kali said. “This is my usual state. It’s probably caused by living here in a climate without enough sun. I really want to see that Florida place you mentioned.”
“There’s plenty of sun there, but alligators and crocodiles too.”
“I’m still waiting for you to show me that scar,” she said.
Cedar kneaded the back of her neck, thumb teasing out the knots in her muscles. It felt good, and she had to keep herself from making contented sighs or displaying other obvious signs of pleasure. She had a notion a respectable girl shouldn’t lean up against a man like a hound getting a scratch.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I appreciate you coming along with me. I know it didn’t work out well for you the last time I talked you into coming on one of my adventures, and I can tell you’re not comfortable here.”
“It’s not that bad. It’s just…” Under his continuing massage, Kali’s chin drooped of its own accord, and millimeter by millimeter her shoulders relaxed. He really ought to spend less time in the woods, chasing criminals, and more time with her. “I never fit in. I don’t fit in in Dawson either, but everyone’s a stranger there, and people speak all different languages and look all different ways. You feel less odd.”
“That’s all there was to it? Not fitting
in? Or did they treat you poorly?” Cedar’s eyes narrowed as if he wondered if he should smack someone around on her behalf.
“They treated my mother poorly, because of her powers. If she’d been male, she would have been a medicine man, but they called her a…you would say a witch. They blamed anything bad on her. She was young, too, when she had me, and I heard…. I don’t know if it’s true, but some people said they’d seen her do things out of spite. Hurt people. She never hurt me. She was kind, and I hate that I doubt her, but somehow she got a reputation that spread amongst the different tribes. My father heard of her and sought her out because of her power. He wanted—well, you heard what that Amelia woman said. I think he was hoping for some powerful heir to carry on his alchemy legacy, to further refine flash gold.”
Cedar lowered his hand, and Kali tamped down a noise of protest. Tadzi was returning with an older man, one she recognized. Kesuk.
Though she had asked for him by name, she had hoped he would be out of the camp and someone else would have come to answer Cedar’s questions. Kesuk had always been quick to malign her mother. As he approached, tension seeped back into Kali’s shoulders. He did not look in her direction. Twin gray braids of hair hung down his chest, and he carried a pair of fishing spears over his shoulder. Annoyance flattened his lips, and Kali could already tell they’d be unlikely to get much from him.
When the medicine man stopped before them, Tadzi stood a couple of steps back, though he watched with curious eyes. Kesuk faced Cedar and ignored Kali. She couldn’t tell if it was because he remembered her or because he figured women should stay silently decorative while the men talked.
“Afternoon, Shaman Kesuk,” Kali said with a smile. Either way, she would not be ignored.
He briefly curled a lip at her but remained facing Cedar. “What business do you have here, White Man?” he asked in Hän.
“Show him the bead things,” Kali told Cedar.
Cedar withdrew the pair of decorated patches and laid them out on his open palm. He seemed content to let Kali take charge of their half of the conversation.
“One of these was found near the body of a Hän woman murdered yesterday morning in Dawson,” Kali told the shaman. “The other on a ship of…” There was no word for airship or pirates in the language, and such things had never floated the skies of the Yukon when she was a girl. What had Tadzi called those people? “Sky bandits,” Kali finished. “Do you know anything about them? Is it possible one of our—one of your people made them? Do they have any power?”
“You speak too much for a woman,” Kesuk said, glaring at her without seeming to notice the patches. Kali opened her mouth, an angry retort on her lips, but Kesuk added, “That’s what happens when girls don’t grow up with proper mothers. At least you’re not a witch.” He took the patches and scrutinized them.
Kali clenched her fists, still tempted to make the retort, but it was better to simply finish and leave as soon as possible.
She caught Cedar watching her, a concerned expression on his face. She loosened her fingers and mouthed, “I’m fine.”
“These are trash,” Kesuk said. “They mean nothing, and if one of our people made them, it would be an embarrassment.”
He handed them back to Cedar, and Kali translated. Cedar’s face darkened, and he slid them back into his pocket. It was disappointing news, so Kali could understand a frown, but Cedar seemed more upset than the dead end warranted. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply standing there with jaw clenched, but he finally tipped his hat toward the medicine man and said, “Please thank him for his time.”
Before Kali could relay the message, Kesuk said, “Leave now. We must keep our people safe from the crime these white men have brought. Take that monstrous beast with you.” He stabbed a finger at the bicycle, though it idled quietly, not bothering anyone as it puffed soft clouds of smoke into the area.
Kali gritted her teeth, more indignant on the machine’s behalf than for the sleights the medicine man had delivered to her.
“Tadzi, you have chores.” Kesuk turned his back on them and strode away.
“Where are you going now?” Tadzi asked. “If you wait here, I can get you some supper from my grandma. She won’t mind sharing.”
Kali suspected she would—nobody wanted to risk a medicine man’s ire, and befriending her would probably do that—but she understood Tadzi’s reluctance to let them go. She would have reacted in the same way if someone riding a steam-powered bicycle had come into the camp when she was a girl.
“Thanks, Tadzi, but we need to solve this mystery.” Kali considered Cedar. He was waiting at the bicycle, his back rigid with determination, his head down, thoughts inward. “I have a feeling that means going dangerous places and doing dangerous things. Again.”
“I could come with you. I could help!”
“No,” Cedar said without looking up.
Tadzi’s shoulders drooped.
“You can help us another time. And—” Kali checked to make sure the medicine man was out of earshot before making her next offer, “—if you ever want to see more of my steam-powered machines, you can come to my shop in Dawson.”
“Really?” Tadzi asked. “That would be right fine.”
She patted him on the back and joined Cedar.
“What’re you thinking?” Kali asked when they were alone. Mostly alone. The guard leaned against a tree nearby, his rifle cradled in his arms as he kept an eye on them.
“You should take the bicycle and go back to town,” Cedar said. “Stay in your workshop with all of your alarms and booby traps in place. Don’t let anyone in.”
Kali propped her hands on her hips. “And where will you be going?”
“I intend to find out why those pirates had one of these on their ship.” Cedar held up one of the beadwork patches.
“Somehow I don’t think the captain is going to be amenable to answering your questions after you cut his pants off.”
“Then I’ll make him.” Cedar started to walk away.
“Wait,” Kali said. “Get on the SAB. I’m going with you.”
“There’s no need to risk yourself on this. I’ve already wasted your time by bringing you out here.”
Kali patted the seat of the SAB. “Might as well stop arguing and mount up. You don’t really think I’d let you go tour an airship without me, do you?” And if Cedar decided he needed to turn in all of those pirates—or their heads—to the Mounties, maybe she could claim what remained of the airship for herself. Oh, she’d want to refurbish it, to make it truly and completely hers, but it’d take months off her timeline if she didn’t have to build everything from scratch. A broad smile curved her lips as these thoughts wandered through her head.
Cedar’s eyes closed to slits as he watched her. “Why do I have a feeling you have something more than questioning pirates in mind?”
Smile broadening, Kali patted the seat again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, are you getting on or not?”
Part VI
Kali huffed up the steep stump-filled incline behind Cedar. The airship had long since disappeared from the sky, but he seemed to know where he was going. Thanks to the steepness of the valley wall, they’d had to leave the SAB by the riverbank below. For the first fifty meters, Kali kept glancing over her shoulder, making sure nobody was sneaking up to bother it. Fortunately, the boat traffic had dwindled with evening’s approach.
After more climbing—and huffing—they reached the crest of the ridge. This time, when Kali looked back over her shoulder, the view gave her a start. A couple of years had passed since she had reason to climb up there, and the difference in the landscape was astonishing. Where verdant trees had once lined both rugged valley walls, hillsides of stumps now stretched. Oh, a few sturdy spruce and pines remained, those with trunks too thick to entice a miner searching for easy firewood, but the barrenness of the scene made Kali’s gut twist. Too many people were pouring out of the south, changing the face of the only home s
he had ever known.
She shook her head and reminded herself she wanted to leave anyway. Come winter, firewood would be scarce, and that was a good incentive to double her efforts on her airship. Or to acquire an already-built airship that only needed modifications….
“I smell a fire,” Cedar said. “We might be close.” He was not breathing hard. His longer legs must mean he took fewer steps.
Ahead of them, the land rose more gently, and evergreens still stood, stretching for the sky.
“What’s the plan?” Kali asked. “Wait until dark, sneak in, and look around the airship?”
He eyed her over his shoulder. “I was planning on dragging a guard away to question, not strolling through their craft.”
“There might be clues inside.”
Cedar raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Kali smiled innocently.
Cedar pointed through the trees to a fallen log ahead and crept toward it. He stayed low, and Kali followed, mimicking his movements. She hadn’t seen anything yet, but Cedar seemed to think they were close.
Kali crouched beside him behind the log. “What do you think we’ll find when we reach the pirates? Were they victims, too, or could they be responsible for the murders?”
“Victims?”
“There are female pirates. Maybe one of them got a throat cut and the killer left that same fake talisman.”
His eyebrows drew together, and Kali guessed he had not considered that possibility. It did seem unlikely. Those thieving bandits had tried to kidnap her, and they’d killed at least one person and probably stolen gold from countless others.
Kali shrugged. “Or maybe we’ll find they’re keeping a bear on board for mauling people.”
“If they are responsible for the murders, that’ll make things simple.” Cedar jerked a thumb over his shoulder, at the hilt of his sword.
“You seem almost as determined to find this murderer as you are to deal with Cudgel,” Kali said.
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