Tin Swift

by Devon Monk

  The stone passage took a turn and suddenly they were on a wooden floor with wooden walls. After all the natural round and unevenness of the caverns, and before that, the curved edges of the interior of the Swift, seeing square wooden corners was suddenly strange and refreshing.

  Mae took her hand away from the captain’s arm and he gave her a sideways look. “Don’t know if I’ve said it to you, Mrs. Lindson, but the tunnels in these mountains can confuse a bloodhound. I think it’s in your best interest not to wander off alone, or at all, for that matter. As you saw back there, we have us company of another crew.”

  “Thank you for worrying about my welfare, Captain,” she said. “But I can take care of myself.”

  “If you’re on my ship, you’re mine to look after, Mrs. Lindson. That wasn’t a request. It was an order.” He gave her a smile. “Hate to have that man of yours blaming me for misplacing you.”

  “Man of mine?” she asked.

  “Mr. Hunt.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain, but you’re mistaken. Mr. Hunt is simply our trail guide.”

  “I see. Is that how you think it is?”

  Mae set her shoulders. She was used to people thinking she was prone to impropriety. But she didn’t want the captain to make assumptions that were not true.

  “What I think,” Mae said, “rather, what I know, is Mr. Hunt helped both Rose and myself through a rough patch a short while ago when my husband was killed. He and I have an agreement and vested interests in reaching Kansas before winter. And that is all.”

  “Doesn’t look like that is all when he sets eyes on you, Mrs. Lindson.”

  “You are misreading our relationship, Captain, and I’d be obliged if you let the matter rest.”

  He pressed his lips together. “You’ll forgive my manners, I hope,” he said. “Living on the edge of the sky doesn’t do much to keep a man sharp on his niceties. But if I had a word left to say on the matter—”

  “I most certainly hope you do not,” Mae said.

  “I’d just say you ought to give him another look.” Captain Hink’s smile was wide and friendly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen an agreement and vested interests be the beginnings of something else altogether.”

  “Are you always this irascible, Captain Hink?”

  “No, I’m usually much worse.”

  Mae smiled despite herself. “You certainly are sure of your charms, Captain. I’m not so sure I’m convinced of them.”

  He stopped and Mae paused, waiting for him to refute her claims.

  “If, for some reason, things between you and Mr. Hunt are no longer in agreement, I want you to know I’ll see to it that you and Miss Rose reach whatever destination you choose.”

  “And I’m to take your word at your honor?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t suppose you would,” he said. “But that’s the truth of it. And if you’d rather take Molly Gregor’s word, she’ll vouch that when I promise such a thing I don’t turn away from it until I see it done.”

  Mae could see he meant what he said. She just didn’t understand why he would be so willing to go out of his way to help them. Men who harvested glim were not the sort who went about tending to the troubles of others.

  “It’s a kind offer,” Mae said slowly. “And I will keep that in mind. But you don’t have to worry yourself. If Mr. Hunt decides not to fulfill his promise, then I am sure Rose and I will find our way just fine.”

  They started walking again, the sound of boot against the wood echoing off the bare walls.

  She couldn’t hear the sisters’ voices here, not since the buggy had brought them deep inside the mountain. Mae didn’t know if it was because the mountain blocked their song, or if she dared hope that they were done singing, calling, pulling, dragging her home.

  She’d never once been so close to insanity as the last month on the trail. It frightened her. When the sisters were calling her, it was all she could hear, and their faces were all she could see. The longer she denied her return, the louder and more constant their voices became. She couldn’t escape them, waking nor asleep.

  It was only when Cedar Hunt spoke to her that she could navigate her way through the overwhelming noise and visions. Or when he touched her that she could feel the world solid around her.

  And here, where by the grace of the Goddess, she was free of the voices for however a long or short time, she realized how very far gone she had been. If not for Cedar, if not for Rose, she wouldn’t have even made it this far on the path the sisters forced her feet to follow.

  It was a chilling horror to know that her mind was slipping away. Even more frightening to realize these might be her last lucid moments.

  But if this was all the time she had left, she’d tend to Rose. With herbs and with magic. Bind health to her bones, curse the infection. She had enough herbs in her satchel to work the spells and blessings needed. She didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to her before.

  It wouldn’t remove the piece of the Holder, but it would help her stay strong.

  “Didn’t mean to set you silent,” Captain Hink said.

  “Not at all,” Mae replied. “I was just going through the things I’ll need to tend Rose.”

  “Well, I hope your list is done and checked. This here is his office.”

  The hall branched off to the left, heading back into the mountain, she assumed. Right in front of them was a metal door that looked like it belonged on a bank vault.

  “Old Jack likes his privacy.” Hink stepped up and pulled on a chain beside the door. Mae thought she heard the clatter of a bell on the other side.

  Soon bolts slid aside and gears clicked as a chain tightened.

  And then a young, dark-skinned man opened the door and stepped aside so they could walk into the room.

  Hink nodded for Mae to cross the threshold first, and she did so, the captain right on her heels.

  The room was a stockpile of bags, crates, and shelves. It looked more like a general store, though it was the largest general store she’d ever seen, reaching two stories high.

  She paused, unsure of where his office might be in the mess.

  “Straight on,” Hink said. “There’s a door down that way. His office is beyond it.”

  “Perhaps you could lead?” she asked.

  Captain Hink stepped up and around her, avoiding knocking over a precarious stack of clay jugs.

  He dusted his hands as if he’d found spiders there. “Place knows how to put a chill up a man’s spine,” he said. “Never know if something bumped is just the sort of thing that explodes.”

  The door shut behind them with the snick of latches, bolt, and locks.

  “And I hate that damn door,” he muttered.

  Mae glanced over her shoulder. The servant stood next to the door, giving her a cool, disinterested gaze. If they wanted to get out of this room in a hurry, there would be no way to get through that much metal.

  She suddenly realized she didn’t have a gun on her.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t take care of herself. Whereas magic was usually the last thing she would turn to in time of trouble, it seemed easy to think on it now, to want to use it, like an itch beneath her fingertip.

  In her hands even good spells went wrong.

  Like what she had done to the captain.

  “Captain,” she said quietly as they wove their way between a pile of burlap and a row of barrels that smelled like lime, the servant following at a polite, but easy firing range behind them.

  “Mm?”

  “I’d like to apologize for…for what happened on the ship. What I did to you.”

  That got him to stop full up and turn toward her. He was wide enough that doing so completely blocked her path. “What are you talking about, Mrs. Lindson?”

  “I…I worked magic on you, Captain.”

  A slow smile slid up his mouth and she caught a sparkle in his eyes. “Did you now?”

  She’d seen this before. For all that folk
always seemed to want to burn any woman who might be accused of being a witch, they’d just as soon not believe that magic was real.

  “Yes, I did. And I am sorry. I haven’t been in my right mind lately. I never would have done that if I’d been clearheaded. Or if we hadn’t been about to crash.”

  “Hold on now,” he said, camping back a bit on one foot. “You mean to tell me you think you cornered that landing?”

  “No. You did that, Captain. You and the ship. Tied together as close as heart and vein by the spell I cast on you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “There some reason why you’re going to apologize for us hitting the earth with our bones unbroke?”

  “Not for that, no. Of course not. But you are bound, Captain. Tied to the ship. And I’m not sure how I would go about unbinding you, though I’d be happy to—”

  “Why don’t we just let it be as it is,” he interrupted. “We’re on the ground, we’ll be repairing the ship come daylight and flying her out dawn after next. I’m sure whatever it is you think you’ve done will have passed by then.”

  Mae opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong, but another man was walking from the far end of the room toward them.

  “Come to speak to Old Jack, Captain?” the man asked.

  He had a wild head of dark hair and a neatly trimmed and greased handlebar mustache that stretched from ear to ear.

  “Captain Beaumont,” Hink said, “I don’t believe you’ve been introduced to Mrs. Lindson. Mrs. Lindson, Captain Beaumont and his crew landed to pass the night here.”

  “How do you do?” Mae said, nodding to the gentleman.

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Lindson,” he said. “Captain Hink, I had no idea you were traveling with such captivating passengers. I do a bit of passenger service myself, Mrs. Lindson. Where is it you’re headed?”

  “Toward family, Captain.”

  “Southwest,” Hink added, though that was not the truth. “Could have sworn I already mentioned that.”

  The captain smiled, the mustache shrugging over his lip. “Ah, and perhaps you did. It’s been a very long day. The details fly from me like leaves on a breeze. Good evening to you, Captain Hink, Mrs. Lindson.”

  “Good evening, Captain,” Mae said.

  Hink started off again. “And to you, Beaumont.”

  The man squeezed past crates of walnuts toward the door. “Come, boy,” he said to the servant who had been following them. “See me to the door.”

  Mae watched as he walked away. Captain Hink obviously didn’t trust the man, since he’d told them they were headed southwest, when Kansas was really southeast of here.

  Captain Beaumont obviously didn’t trust Captain Hink either, since he’d asked Mae where they were traveling. Likely, he had been trying to catch Captain Hink in a lie.

  As far as Mae knew, there was no reason for Captain Hink to think their destinations were worth hiding. Which meant that Captain Hink might want to hide his own doings from the man.

  Were all airship captains so distrustful?

  Not for the first time, she wished they hadn’t stopped in Vicinity. Wished they’d just ridden straight through and on down to Kansas. It’d still be many miles left to go on horseback. A month at least, but they wouldn’t be tangled up with glim pirates, reclusive miners, and the sorts of men that other men felt warranted lying to.

  “Coming, Mrs. Lindson?” Hink asked.

  “Yes.” She caught up to his long-legged stride. He knocked on the polished rosewood door carved with an image of elephants and tropical trees.

  More bolts and locks snicked and clicked, and the door opened again.

  But instead of letting them in, Old Jack stepped out. “Why is it a man has to be bothered every damn second? What do you want, Captain Hink?”

  He shut the door behind him, but not before Mae caught a glimpse of another servant in the room. The room seemed relatively sparse, but the servant was leaning out the window and lighting a wick that burned a strange green-yellow color.

  That was all she saw before the door shut firmly behind the hunchbacked old man.

  “This is one of my passengers, Jack,” Captain Hink said. “And she’s in need of a few medicines to tend the woman who’s injured in our company.”

  “Medicines? Yes, yes.” He shuffled past them both toward one wall covered in wooden shelves and drawers and filled with bottles, jars, boxes, and parcels. The sweet, dusty scent of dried herbs was stronger here, as was the smell of beeswax and oils.

  “Tell me what ails the girl,” he said, stopping short in front of the first of the shelves, “and I’ll tell you what I have to soothe it.”

  “I just have a short list to fill,” Mae said.

  Jack craned his head up so he could see out from under his bushy eyebrows. “Then get on with telling me the list.”

  “I’ll need yarrow and clean cotton for bandages. And I’ll need something for the pain that won’t put her to sleep.”

  “I’ve got the first two.” Jack tottered along the line of shelves and reached down for a packet of clean cotton cloth. “Bandages.” He set them on the top of a hutch filled with small perfume bottles.

  “Yarrow, yarrow…that’s right over here. Haven’t had a bundle for a while.” He pulled a thin metal stick out of his pocket, no bigger around than a cigar. Then he tugged it straight. The brass stick stretched out three feet long. He pointed the clamp on the end toward a jar on one of the higher shelves. He hooked the jar down and set it next to the bandages.

  “As for keeping someone awake and out of pain, I’m not sure there’s much for that. You can have your pick of whiskey, laudanum, or Bateman’s Drops.” He opened a small door on his apothecary hutch.

  “No coca leaves?” Captain Hink asked.

  Old Jack shook his head. “Bartered them off for a case of champagne. Have a bottle of Peruvian coca tonic left.” He withdrew a slim green bottle.

  “Knew a glim runner who used it once,” Hink said to Mae. “He didn’t have complaints.”

  Mae held out her hand and Old Jack passed her the bottle. She studied the label. “There’s three dosages worth here.” She considered the long road ahead and that they had lost nearly all their supplies in Vicinity. “Better this and two bottles of laudanum, if you have them.”

  “Said I did, didn’t I?” Jack pulled down two bottles. “They ain’t cheap. We’re coming into winter and I won’t have new supplies until the winds calm in spring.”

  “You just had an entire ship of supplies dock tonight,” Hink said. “You can’t tell me Beaumont didn’t have a stash of patent medicines on board.”

  “I can and I will,” Old Jack said. “You can pay me for what I’m selling, or you can find some other trading post to do your business.”

  Hink exhaled in the sort of way that made it seem like he was counting down from ten to one. “You know I landed on nothing but fumes. If you’re expecting me to pony up a fortune, you’re hitting the wrong rock.”

  Old Jack licked his lips, his sharp eyes narrowing for the haggle. “You said you’d pay in glim or pay in gold. I want both.”

  “I think you may be misinterpreting the word ‘or,’ Jack.”

  “And you’re misinterpreting my ability to give a damn, Hink.”

  “No. I never thought you cared about anything but your own skin. That and robbing folks like me blind. I can give you glim in the morning if the Swift flies, or gold today. But I ain’t about to give you both.”

  Jack sucked on his bottom teeth, then slid a glance at Mae.

  Mae gave him an even stare, as if the act of negotiation bored her, instead of showing how frustrated she was. They needed this medicine. Rose needed it. But they had to rely on Captain Hink’s ability to haggle right now.

  He was going out of his way to see that Rose had what she needed. Mae didn’t know how she would repay him. Didn’t know if Mr. Hunt had already negotiated some kind of payment.

  And she was not about to mess it up by looking desperate.

>   The men were shaking hands. Mae realized, with a start, that she had been too lost in thought to notice that the negotiation was drawing to a close.

  “If you’ll excuse us,” Captain Hink said, the bundles and bottles in his hands, “we’ll take our leave.”

  Old Jack gave Mae one last hard stare, as if expecting her to say something or do something.

  “Good evening,” she said.

  “See them out,” he yelled to the servant waiting a respectable distance behind them.

  The servant headed toward the door, and Hink reshuffled the packages in his hands and started walking. Old Jack headed straightwise to his office.

  “I’ll expect the money on my doorstep in the morning,” Old Jack said as he lifted the latch on the carved door. “Or that ship of yours becomes my goods.”

  “Didn’t put her up as collateral,” Captain Hink said. “Don’t make me straighten your facts with my fists, Jack.”

  “Gold or the ship, either fills your debt.”

  “You touch the Swift and it will be the last thing you fondle,” Hink said. “I’m not blowing steam. You send anyone for my ship and I’ll kill him dead.”

  Captain Hink wasn’t looking at Jack as he strode across the room, but Mae glanced back at the old man.

  His office door was half open, his hand still on the latch. Through the windows on the other side of his office the odd green-yellow light flooded the room, and poured out in a wedge around his feet.

  “Do not threaten the bear in its den, Captain Hink Cage,” Old Jack said. “The bear always wins.” Then he stepped into his office and slammed the door behind him.

  Hink’s jaw was set so hard, the muscle at his temple bulged. He stopped in front of the metal door. For a moment, Mae thought he might just turn on his heel and take up a fight with Old Jack. But instead he blew out a breath and waved at the door.

  “Go ahead,” Hink said to the servant. “Open it up. Seems there’s a bear loose in these parts.”

  The servant worked the locks and chains and bolts, then pulled the door inward smooth and easy as if it didn’t weigh a thing.

  Mae and the captain walked out into the hall.