by Becca Andre
The door began to open, and Briar immediately realized her error. She had selected the hinge side of the door. To slip through the opening, they would have to circle the door. Of course, it did provide them with extra cover. If whoever this was walked deeper into the room, it would give them more time to circle the door and get out of here.
Fortunately, the person didn’t throw the door open so that it slammed into them. He—and it turned out to be a man—only opened it wide enough to walk into the room.
Briar’s heart pounded in her ears as she watched the dark-haired fellow walk deeper into the room. He was indeed interested in the open wardrobe.
When she felt he had moved far enough away, she gripped Tristan’s wrist once more and pulled him after her as she circled the open door.
The man came to a stop, contemplating the wardrobe.
Walking on her toes, Briar moved quickly. She stepped around the end of the door, pulling Tristan after her. They might have made it if the skirt of her gown hadn’t brushed the door, causing it to move. A hinge squeaked softly, but not softly enough.
The man whirled to face them, his hand coming up to reveal a revolver. Briar met his hazel eyes and instantly recognized him as Lucrezia’s guardsman. The one who had shot her before.
Chapter 15
The guardsman leveled the gun on them, but didn’t immediately fire.
Briar lifted her empty hand. “You have us. There’s no need to shoot.”
To her surprise, he lowered the weapon. “I do not wish to harm you. I never have,” his words were heavily accented, but understandable.
Briar wanted to point out that he had shot her, but she knew that had been Lucrezia’s doing. As one of her guardsmen, perhaps her head guardsman, he’d had no choice.
“Are you going to stop me?” She lifted the pillowcase. “This construct is rightfully mine.”
“You should battle Lady Lucrezia for it.”
“Look, I’m not part of this ferra hierarchy. I don’t care about their squabbles and foolish traditions.”
“But you beat her once before, yes?” Oddly, he sounded hopeful. “You could do it again, but finish it properly.”
It took a moment for that to sink in, then Briar blinked. “You want me to kill her.”
He took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “I fear Lady Lucrezia has gone mad.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “She has begun sacrificing her guardsmen.”
“The chimera. The unholy constructs,” she added, remembering the phrase the other Italian guardsman had used.
“Yes.” He took a step toward her, but stopped when she took a step back. “The only thing that has stopped her from making more is the lack of a ferromancer to properly mold them. At first, I thought that was why she had taken this one.” His gaze flickered to Tristan and back. “But it sounds like the others have plans for him.”
Briar studied him. Didn’t Tristan feel human to him? Or was he still too far away to notice the difference? According to Perseus, every half-blood was different with regard to sensitivity.
“Yes,” she answered him. “They plan to cut off pieces of him and send them to his father.”
“That’s what I hear.” Neither his expression or tone gave away what he truly thought about that. But the job of putting down ferromancers fell to guys like him, so he probably thought little of it.
“Look, uh.” She hesitated when she realized she didn’t know how to address him. “I don’t guess I know your name.”
“Durante,” he supplied.
She inwardly cringed. Wasn’t he the one the other guardsman claimed had been forced to kill one of their fellows?
“Nice to meet you, Durante. I’m Briar.” She paused, trying to find a way to express herself. “It’s not my place to kill Lucrezia—even if she deserves it. I won’t be the one who decides who lives and who dies. I have a different goal.”
His dark eyebrows rose, but he didn’t voice his question.
“I’m working with Grayson…Drake,” she added his ferromancer name to make it clear who she meant. “We’re trying to find a way to stop a ferromancer’s devolvement, and we’ve made progress.”
“You have?” That seemed to surprise him.
“Yes. If we’re successful, the ferromancers will no longer need to be locked up, the Scourge won’t be needed, and maybe this race can live some kind of normal life.”
“That’s possible?” He sounded more doubtful than sarcastic.
“That’s my hope.” She held his gaze, willing him to see her sincerity. “Are you going to let us go?”
“I was sent here to capture Solon’s son.” He nodded at Tristan. “But was told to let you go.”
“Who sent you?”
“Lady Agatha.”
Briar rubbed a hand over her face. When was this going to end?
“Tristan is coming with me. I’m not going to leave him behind to be used as they intend. If you insist on taking him, then I’m calling all your talk about Lucrezia bullshit. You’re no better than she is.”
Durante eyed her for a moment, his expression giving nothing away. It reminded her a lot of what Perseus had been like when she first met him.
He sighed, then tucked away his gun.
“You’re going to help us?” Briar asked.
“I agree with your words and do not wish to be privy to such actions, even if I don’t believe such a thing possible. But I will give you a chance.”
Briar was stunned. Here was a man she barely knew who was willing to give her a chance—unlike her own godmother. Or should that be grandmother?
“But I would make two requests,” Durante added.
“Name them.”
His gaze shifted to Tristan. “Bind me in such a way that it appears that you overtook me.”
“All right,” Tristan answered, a worried look on his face as he studied the room.
Durante’s gaze returned to Briar. “I wish to break my oath to Lucrezia.”
She frowned. From what Perseus had told her, that only happened when the ferra or her guardsman died. It was otherwise permanent. Durante still wanted her to kill Lucrezia.
“But I am willing to take that on faith,” he added to her. “For now.”
She nodded. “I will do my best with that.” After all, she could break it temporarily. She’d learned that during her first encounter with Lucrezia.
“Then I will hold you to it.” He eyed Tristan who had walked to the bed. “What are you doing?”
“We could use the sheet to bind him,” Tristan suggested.
“You’re good at finding solutions where it seems there are none.” He really was a lot like Grayson, and not just because of his interest in tinkering.
Tristan grinned at the praise, then hurried to the bed to strip off the sheet.
Durante stared at Tristan as he walked past him. “I was told he was a ferromancer.” He glanced over at Briar for confirmation.
“He was.” She tried for a confident smile. “I told you we’ve made progress on stopping a ferromancer’s devolvement.”
“Briar made me human,” Tristan answered, twisting the sheet so that it resembled a thick rope. “Shall I bind you to the bed?” He gestured at the polished brass rails that made up the footboard.
Durante blinked, seeming to consciously pull his attention back to the matter at hand. “Yes.”
Tristan nodded, then moved over to do just that.
“Perhaps you could punch me as well,” Durante suggested when Tristan finished. “A bleeding lip would make me look less disgraced.”
Tristan chewed his lower lip. “That seems unsporting.”
Durante studied the young man, but he didn’t comment.
“I’ve, um, never punched a man.”
Briar smiled, though it was a sad smile. How much innocence was
Tristan losing being exposed to all this.
“I’ll do it,” Briar said. She crossed the room to stop before Durante. “I’ve punched men, and women. I’m a canaller, and a good brawl is a great way to top off an evening.” She gave Tristan a wink before turning to Durante. “Besides, I owe you for the time you shot me.”
“He shot you?” Tristan asked, his eyes wide.
“He was commanded to.” Briar didn’t give him a chance to comment before landing a punch to Durante’s mouth. His head snapped back, and he fell against the footboard, the blow taking him by surprise.
Tristan stepped back, casting the two of them a worried look.
Durante straightened. Oddly, he was smiling. “Well done.”
“I can hold my own.” She turned to Tristan. “Let’s go. The next person that comes along may not be so easy to work with.”
Tristan nodded.
She led him to the door and checked outside. Their luck was holding. There was still no one around. She glanced back at Durante, who was somberly watching them. “Take care,” she told him.
“Good luck, my lady.”
She dipped her head, acknowledging his well wishes, then led Tristan out onto the balcony, pulling the door closed behind them.
“Where to?” he whispered.
The stern stairs were the obvious choice, plus it should put them out near the engine room. She assumed that was directly forward of the paddlewheel.
Stepping up to the rail, she glanced over the side, but she couldn’t see much of the deck below them. “Perseus and Kali should be on the lower deck,” she told Tristan. “They were going to seek out the chimera while I confronted its maker.”
“The chimera?” Tristan paled. “It’s on the boat.”
“Kali thought so. Here.” Briar handed him her fiddle case. “Let me get out my fiddle. I might have to do the pied-piper thing to get us off this vessel.”
Tristan smiled faintly, though he still looked a bit disconcerted by the mention of the chimera. She’d have to ask him why when they had more time.
She took out her fiddle and bow, then placed the pillowcase containing Lock’s soul box inside and latched the case. “Don’t let anything happen to that.”
“Right.” He nodded.
Leading the way, Briar continued aft to the stairs they’d come up and started down. As she had before, she kept to the inner rail so she could see the deck below them. It appeared the walkway wasn’t very wide around the stern of the boat.
Briar continued down, gripping her fiddle and bow so that she could bring it to her chin the moment a threat appeared. Cautiously, she left the stairs and started toward the port side of the boat—the side closest to shore. Reaching the side walkway, she pressed against the wall before peeking around the corner. To her surprise and relief there was no one in sight.
“Come on,” she whispered to Tristan, then stepped around the corner.
There was an open doorway on their right, only ten feet ahead of them. Briar eyed the opening, debating whether to step into the room if someone were to come into view, but no one did.
She reached the opening and checked inside. The room was filled with large pipes that connected to a huge boiler. There were various levers and wheels, and assorted moving parts she couldn’t name. They had found the engine room. Wouldn’t Grayson love to see this?
“Oh.” Tristan had stopped beside her and stared into the room.
Briar stepped inside and he followed. With nothing running, the only sound was the soft echo of their footsteps.
“Perseus?” she called in a loud whisper.
“Here.” His answer came from a dark corner of the room behind a jumble of pipes.
Surprised that he was still here, Briar hurried to the corner. “We need to—”
She fell silent as soon as she caught sight of them. Kali sat on the floor with Perseus kneeling before her. He was snugging a makeshift bandage—torn from his shirt—around her thigh.
“What happened?” Briar stopped beside them.
“We found the chimera,” Kali answered through clenched teeth. “Or rather, it found us.”
“Will you play for her, my lady?” Perseus asked.
Briar frowned. “How serious is it? I’d rather not attract attention.”
“Help me up,” Kali said. “I can manage.”
“No,” Perseus snapped the word. “That would only increase the blood loss.”
“Where is the chimera?” Tristan was glancing around the room, a worried frown on his face.
“Gone,” Kali answered.
“It ran off before…” Perseus fell silent, his gaze on Tristan. “What happened to you?”
“Miss Rose healed me.”
Perseus just stared at him.
“What do you mean—” Kali started to ask, then her mouth dropped open. “Holy hell. You don’t even feel like a ferromancer anymore.”
“The ferra think I made him human,” Briar explained.
“That’s possible?” Kali stared at her with wide eyes.
“I cannot feel the iron around me,” Tristan admitted.
Perseus muttered something in what Briar assumed was Greek.
“The ferra weren’t too happy about it,” Briar said. “So it would be best if we could get off this boat without drawing attention.”
“I’ll deal with any attention, you draw,” Perseus said. “Heal her.”
The wound must be serious if he was giving her commands.
“All right,” Briar agreed, “but there’s one other thing. I can’t touch Grayson’s mind, so I doubt I can channel his magic. Lock is trapped in a soul box.”
“A what?” Kali asked at the same time Perseus muttered a curse.
“It’s a soul-iron box that’s been charged with soul fire,” Briar explained. “It’s in my fiddle case, but—”
Perseus turned to Tristan. “I need you to carry Kali, just until we get off the boat.”
“Come on, Percy, I can walk,” Kali complained.
“Stop it,” Perseus snapped the words.
Briar jumped at his sharp tone. He wasn’t a demonstrative guy, so when he let the emotion out, it always took her by surprise.
“Do not argue with me. I have seen such injuries before, and I’ve seen those who have received them bleed out.” He turned to Tristan. “Give me the case. I can drop it if I need to fight.”
“There will be no need for that.” Briar lifted her fiddle for emphasis. “I still have my magic.”
Perseus studied her a moment, then held out his hand to Tristan. “I prefer to err on the side of caution.”
Kali rolled her eyes as Tristan handed Perseus the case.
Tristan considered Kali and swallowed. Though leaner, he was as tall as Perseus, and Kali wasn’t a big woman. Briar figured Tristan could manage carrying her off the boat, but Briar suspected that his ability to carry her wasn’t what made him nervous.
Wordlessly, he walked over and dropped to a knee beside her. “I um, I’ll try not to hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Kali answered moodily.
Tristan nodded, then carefully slid his arms beneath her and rose to his feet. It reminded Briar that ferromancers were not only faster, but stronger than human men of similar size. Had Tristan retained some of that, just like he’d sensed the soul box in that closed cabinet? Perhaps she hadn’t made him completely human.
“Let’s move.” Perseus headed for the door.
Briar followed without comment, glad to have him back.
The walkway outside the door was still deserted, but led to an open area a few yards down, where the gangplank connected and the wide staircase Briar had taken earlier led to the upper decks.
They stepped into the open area, and Briar immediately spied four men standing near the base of the stairs. But the
y weren’t the only ones. The blonde ferra, Esme’s sister, stood with them.
“There they are!” she shouted, pulling her stylus from her elegantly coiffed hair. The movement reminded Briar so much of Esme that it gave her chills.
The men around her pulled out an assortment of knives, one even drawing a revolver. But it was the woman who started toward them, the tip of her stylus starting to glow.
“Stop right there.” She pointed the stylus at Tristan and Kali, though her eyes were on Briar. “Drop the fiddle.”
“You would shoot him?” Briar demanded. Her own nephew?
“In a heartbeat,” she answered, coolly. “Though we prefer to keep him alive.”
“If you wish to remain alive,” Perseus spoke up, “you will all drop your weapons.”
“By the time she gets that fiddle to her chin, they will be dead,” Esme’s sister said.
Perseus stepped forward, putting himself between her and Tristan and Kali. “It’s not her fiddle you need to fear.”
“Easy there, Perseus,” Briar said, intentionally using his name.
The reaction was immediate. The guardsmen exchanged worried glances, and the one with the revolver immediately returned his weapon to its holster. The exception was the blonde woman who only narrowed her eyes.
“I am not so gullible,” the woman said. “Perseus is a myth, and even if you were he, you would not be serving as a guard for humans.”
Perseus didn’t say a word. Instead, he lifted the knife that Briar hadn’t even seen him draw and ran it along his own cheek. The muscle along the base of his jaw twitched as a line of blood followed the track of his knife.
The blonde frowned, but didn’t demand to know what he was doing. And when, an instant later, the golden glow sealed the minor wound, no one gasped in surprise, though several eyes widened.
“I am he,” Perseus said softly, “and I am oath-sworn to Miss Rose. Now, let us pass, or I will personally slit each of your throats. Yours included, my lady. Soul fire has no more effect on me than this knife.” He lifted his bloodied blade.