Casting Souls

by Becca Andre

  “Is it…”

  “Really yours?” he finished for her. “Yes. I scoured that room until I found every last piece. Fortunately, it had broken into three main sections in addition to the neck, but there were several smaller pieces. It made for quite a challenge to puzzle out how it all fit together.”

  She stared up at him. “You fixed this? How? It’s made of wood.”

  “Iron is the most plentiful metal on the planet, and it ends up in everything. Even trees. They take their nourishment from the soil, after all. I realigned those nearly invisible particles and welded soul iron to them, forming a bond along the seams. If this violin is ever smashed again, it won’t break where it broke before.”

  Stunned that he could do such a thing, she plucked the strings—normal catgut strings—then ran her fingers along the polished body of the instrument.

  “I took it to a local shop to have it strung and the bow re-haired,” Grayson added. “I don’t know the first thing about stringing a violin.”

  Without a word, she turned and threw her arms around his neck. Not trusting herself to speak, she shared her joy at having her most-cherished possession returned to her.

  My pleasure. He hugged her back. “Will you play it? Let me know if I got it right?” he asked a moment later.

  “Of course.” She rosined the bow, then tested the strings to check the tuning. Once satisfied, she drew the bow across the strings and played the opening to “Cluck Old Hen.” Her old fiddle felt and sounded as it always had.

  She hadn’t intended to play more than the opening, which worked well since she didn’t think she could play more if she wanted to. “It’s perfect,” she whispered, taking the fiddle from her chin. She could barely get the words past the lump in her throat. “I can’t tell the difference.” Biting back the tears that threatened, she busied herself returning the instrument to its case.

  Grayson moved closer but didn’t get to speak as movement drew their attention to the door. Liam and Agatha stepped into the cabin.

  Grayson’s hand settled on the small of her back, but he said nothing.

  “I’m saddened that you didn’t invite us to your wedding,” Agatha said.

  Briar studied her godparents—or should she call them grandparents? “I wasn’t certain that you’d want to see me.”

  “Shouldn’t you have left that for us to decide?” Agatha asked. Was that another accusation on the choice Briar had denied her?

  “I, I guess.”

  Agatha and Liam walked over, clearing Briar’s line of sight to the door where Perseus stood. Had he escorted them to her, or was he standing guard? That hardly seemed necessary now.

  “I figured you’d be angry with me,” Briar said.

  “For making us human?” Liam asked. “Aggie’s a little out of sorts, but I think I’m going to enjoy retirement.” A wry smile twisted his lips. His reaction surprised Briar, but maybe it shouldn’t. After all, he’d complained about being unable to escape his role in ferromancer society.

  “Why did you do it?” Agatha asked her, ignoring Liam’s comment. “The ferromancers, I understand. They were devolving. But the ferra?”

  “Were just as devolved in their own way. I know you don’t agree with me because you can’t see it, but they were just as cold and depraved as their male counterparts.”

  Liam and Agatha exchanged a look.

  Agatha sighed. “Actually, I did see it.”

  “It was one of the reasons Aggie left,” Liam explained.

  “But that didn’t give you the right to alter us,” Agatha said. “To kill off nearly the last of us.”

  “I killed no one. If you ever were a perfect race—and I highly doubt that—those days are long gone. Nothing would have returned you to the way things were. But now, you have a chance to truly live and feel.”

  “Liam is over six hundred, and I’m older still. How long do you think we have?”

  “Who can say? You might be closer to human, but you’re not exactly. Maybe now, you actually are the perfect race,” she said, using Felipe’s logic. “Only time will tell.”

  Liam and Agatha exchanged another look. She looked uncertain, but a slow smile was spreading across his face.

  Agatha shook her head and faced Briar once more. “So what now? Do the two of you live out your days on this boat? I wouldn’t think Drake would find that comfortable.”

  Grayson shifted a little closer to her, but remained silent.

  “His name is Grayson, and I’d appreciate it if you learned to address him that way.”

  Agatha gave a rather noncommittal nod.

  Briar continued, “I transferred ownership of the boat to Eli,” Briar explained. “Grayson and I are going to try to find other ferromancers and help them.”

  “Help them,” Agatha repeated. There was no anger in her tone, but she sounded doubtful. “And where will you find them?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Agatha studied her a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. She pulled a worn leather journal from her pocket and handed it to Briar.

  “What’s this?” Briar asked.

  “My address book. I updated it and lined out those who have passed and those that you have already altered—since I doubt you knew their names.”

  “This is a list of ferra?” Briar asked.

  “Yes.”

  Briar looked up. “If you brought this to give to me, then why pretend you have a problem with what I did?”

  “Because I don’t like it. Personally.” Agatha sighed. “As Liam keeps reminding me, the legends tell that a drake and a soul singer will lead us back to what we once were. So, you might be right. Who’s to say this isn’t it? God knows, nothing we tried before worked.”

  “One of the ferromancers I helped came to me the next day and thanked me. He was happy with what I’d done for him. Maybe in time, you will appreciate it, too.”

  “Perhaps.” She didn’t look convinced. “It’s ironic. When I realized that you’d taken a drake’s construct by accident, I encouraged Liam to let you keep him. And when Liam later told me you were a soul singer, I thought the prophecy was about to come true.”

  “Of course,” Liam picked up the story, “I thought it nonsense, and did my damnedest to encourage you to use your power another way.” He offered her a sardonic smile. “You proved me wrong—whether the prophecy is true or not.”

  “In the end, perhaps that doesn’t even matter,” Agatha said. A bitter smile creased her face, and she reached out to touch Briar’s cheek. “I still love you, my girl, and wish you the best.”

  Relief surged through Briar, and she stepped forward to exchange a tight hug with her.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you, child,” Liam said when Briar released Agatha. “Like Aggie, I was just too stuck in my ways to see the alternative you offered. I hope you can forgive me.”

  Briar sighed, then hugged him as well. It seemed something in her chest loosened, a tension she hadn’t acknowledged. She kissed his cheek, then stepped back.

  “Good luck to you,” Liam said, blinking his damp eyes. “To both of you.” His gaze moved to Grayson. “You take care of her, Dra— Grayson. She’s a treasure.”

  “I’m well aware of that, sir,” Grayson answered.

  Agatha gave them both a teary smile. “I hope you’ll come see us if you’re ever up our way.”

  “Of course,” Briar quickly agreed.

  Another exchange of well-wishes, then Liam led Agatha from the room.

  Perseus watched them pass before he turned to Briar and Grayson. “You altered Liam as well?”

  “I did,” Briar admitted, scrubbing a tear from her cheek.

  Grayson wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her against him.

  Perseus walked over to them. “And what if you altered me?” His voice softened as he co
ntinued. “Would it make me…mortal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If I asked, would you try?”

  Briar glanced up at Grayson, but he said nothing.

  “My lady?” Perseus prompted.

  “Our task is not finished.” She lifted the address book Agatha had given her. “I was hoping you would accompany us. Kali, too, if she wants to come.” She hadn’t discussed this with Grayson, but it just made sense. “You know so much about this world that I, and even Grayson, do not. I need your help. Besides, didn’t you tell me that it was your duty to keep your race contained?”

  Perseus’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t speak.

  “I think it would be most beneficial if you remained as you are, and after our task is complete, I will play for you.”

  “If something should happen to you before then?”

  “You are her oath-sworn,” Grayson spoke up. “Do not let that happen.”

  Perseus held his gaze for a moment, then turned back to Briar, but she spoke before he did.

  “I’m not forcing you to do this,” she said. “Say the word and I will play for you right now—or any time in the future. I don’t command you, Perseus, and I never will.”

  He sighed. “Very well. I will remain as I am. For now.” Without another word, he turned and left the room.

  Briar looked up at Grayson. “Was that all right? Did I do the right thing?”

  “I think so. Who can say what sort of troubles we might encounter. It would be good to have him along.”

  She nodded, pleased that she hadn’t overstepped herself—barely an hour into their marriage.

  Setting the address book on the table beside her fiddle, she took his hand. “Shall we return to the reception? I’m sure Eli and Molly are waiting to make their announcement, then there’s the cake, and the band Jimmy hired. I never get to dance. I always have to play.”

  “It saddens me that you won’t be playing, but dancing with you will help make up for it.” He offered his arm.

  Gripping his biceps, she allowed him to lead her back to their guests. There was cake, music, and then celebratory whiskey once Eli and Molly made their announcement.

  Later, Briar took a break from the dancing and her playing—her crew could never let a celebration pass without her playing—and took a seat beside Molly on one of the crates lining the hold.

  “You know,” Molly said, eyeing the bourbon in her mug, “most folks serve wine at their weddings.”

  “Perhaps,” Briar allowed, taking a drink from her own mug. “But this is a canal wedding. You might need to develop a taste for the stuff.”

  Molly laughed. “I prefer it as a splash added to my tea.”

  “That might explain why I enjoy your tea.”

  Molly winked, and for a time, they each nursed their drinks and watched the dancers try to maneuver in the narrow confines of the hold.

  “How are you doing?” Molly whispered.

  “I love Grayson with all my soul, but I still feel like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind on the canal.”

  “I suspected as much.” Molly took her hand. “There’ll always be a bunk for you on the Briar Rose—and a slightly weedy spot by the gangplank for Mr. Martel.”

  Briar laughed. “Thank you, Molly. You’re the sister I never had.”

  “And you’re the sister I wish I’d had.” Molly kissed her cheek. The response warmed Briar’s heart. Unlike Briar, Molly actually had sisters, though Briar had never met them.

  A throat cleared, and they looked up to see Grayson standing over them.

  “How brazen, Miss Molly,” Grayson chided her. “Kissing my wife in front of me.”

  “You left her unattended, sir,” Molly replied with a straight face.

  “I fear this means I should never leave her side.”

  “That’s fine with me.” Briar placed her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered.

  Now for the hard part. They walked around the deck, bidding farewell to each member of her crew.

  Zach shook their hands and promised to write—now that he was getting on so well with his letters—while Benji presented Grayson with the first lure he’d made entirely on his own. He blushed furiously as Grayson praised the slightly lopsided lure.

  Jimmy, with Mildred on his arm, made them promise to come to dinner next time they were in town, claiming that Mildred’s apple pie was a treat not to be missed. Mildred shyly beamed at the praise and gripped Jimmy’s arm tighter.

  Then it was Eli’s turn.

  Briar didn’t bother to speak. She stepped forward and hugged him, and received a tight hug in return.

  “I’m going to sorely miss you, Miss Briar,” Eli muttered, his voice thick.

  “And I you, Eli.” She released him and rubbed a hand across her cheek. “You take care of the Briar Rose.”

  “Aye, Captain,” he said softly, then turned a scowl on Grayson. “And you take care of our Briar Rose.”

  “Always.” Grayson offered a hand, and Eli took it.

  “I’m just glad you didn’t ask me to keep her out of trouble,” Grayson added, once the handshake was over.

  “You might not be… like us,” Eli said softly, “but no need to expect you to do the impossible.”

  “Eli.” Briar protested while everyone laughed.

  It seemed only moments, then she and Grayson were crossing the gangplank for the last time.

  Say the word, and I’ll buy her back. You don’t have to leave all that you love behind.

  I’m not. She squeezed his arm. You’re going with me.

  His affection washed over her.

  Besides, you gave up your locomotive for me.

  It was just a pile of metal—though a masterfully arranged pile of metal.

  She laughed at the hint of pride in his tone.

  But it was nothing compared to what I gained, he added.

  She slipped her arm through his as they walked to the carriage where Perseus and Kali waited. Grayson handed her inside, then followed, taking his place beside her.

  The carriage lurched into motion, and Briar looked out the window at the canal glinting in the moonlight. A lantern had been hung off the tiller deck, and in its warm glow, she could see the red roses and curling vines that encircled the letters that spelled out Briar Rose.

  Grayson’s hand took hers, and she pulled her attention from her former life to study her new one.

  He held her gaze with his. What are you thinking?

  It just occurred to me that I did all this to save my way of life. I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my days on the canal, and now I’m walking away from it.

  Perhaps you just recognized a good thing when you saw him. He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

  “Well, this should be fun,” Kali muttered. “Longing stares and silent communication. Kill me now, Perce.”

  Perseus gave her a small smile before turning his attention back to the window.

  “Sorry,” Briar said. “I’ll try to remember to speak out loud.”

  “Never mind.” Kali shook her head, though a touch of amusement shone in her dark eyes. “At the moment, it’s probably best that you two keep it to yourselves.”

  She has a point, Grayson agreed.

  Behave.

  Must I?

  At least until we get to the steamboat. The steamboat that would carry them off on their next adventure.

  Thank goodness it’s a short carriage ride, came his moody answer.

  She smiled. Perhaps she had lost what she set out to save, but in the end, she’d gained far more than she ever imagined.

  A familiar tingle encircled her throat as her necklace became the little metal dragon. Lock settled on her shoulder, then leaned over to rub
his cheek to hers. With a metallic purr, he shared his love and his joy. He would never have to leave her.

  I love you, too, Lock. She reached up and rubbed him beneath the chin. You’re right. We’ll be together, always. She met Grayson’s gaze as she shared that, and he smiled in turn, no doubt privy to what she’d told Lock. But that made sense. After all, Lock was his heart.

  THE END

  The journey has ended, but there’s more to the story.

  Visit the link below for details.

  http://beccaandre.com/more-iron-souls/

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading Casting Souls. I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it well enough to leave a review; that would be great! For release news, giveaways, and other goodies, use the following link to sign up for my newsletter. As an added bonus, you’ll receive an alternate POV scene from Ferromancer.

  http://beccaandre.com/newsletter/

  Looking for more to read? Check out my Final Formula Series. Filled with action, magic, humor, and romance, this unique urban fantasy tells the story of amnestic alchemist and her quest to recover her lost past. The first book, The Final Formula, is free everywhere my books are sold.

  Discover the Final Formula

  http://beccaandre.com/excerpt-the-final-formula/

  Glossary

  For those who did not grow up with the remnants of an abandoned canal in their neighborhood (the old timers still called the road into town the towpath when I was little), the concept of mule-pulled boats may be something completely foreign. To help clarify this world, I wanted to include a glossary of common canal terms.

  The terminology used aboard a canal boat can be confusing, especially for those with some maritime knowledge. Since most canal boatmen did not come from a nautical background, their word choice was often quite different from their seafaring counterparts. Sometimes a boatman might use a nautical term, but apply it to something completely different. For example, a deadeye on a canal boat was not the same as a deadeye on a sailing vessel.

  Another interesting feature was how the terminology changed whether inside or outside the boat’s cabin. For example, the upper level of the boat (the roof of each cabin) was called a deck while inside the cabin it was simply the floor. A wall was a wall, not a bulkhead, yet a boatman would often call the little corner containing his bunk, his stateroom. It was this delightful mix that gave the canal system a language of its own.