Ellie turned to the periscope and depressed a button for an outside speaker. “Mr. Silas Skink, cretin extraordinaire. I’ve no idea how you tracked me here, but you may want to be moving along before you find some lead in you to go along with that metal leg.”
Silas cleared his throat, dipped his hat, and pounded the hard ground with his cherrywood walking stick. He pulled at the lapels on his coat. “Ms. Cole, I believe I have something you’ll find of great interest.” He glanced up at the sky, holding his hat, and then spoke again. “It would be so much easier to talk face to face.”
“There is very little you could have to say to me. Now, take yourself and those bandits you brought with you back to Chicago!”
Ellie touched the two flash globes she’d grabbed from the cabinet. In a fluid moment and one that felt extremely exhilarating, Ellie threw open the front door and tossed one flash globe after another into the wind at Silas Skink, the bane of her existence. Two powerfully bright flashes went off and sufficiently confused the older man, his left arm covering his eyes.
“Now, now, Ellie! Stay calm!” he backed away, stumbling slightly on the loose gravel. He pointed his cane at her as if it could somehow ward her off like an evil spirit. He looked past her at the locomotive looming like a black panther in the desert.
“Stay calm? Oh, my dear man, I think we are far past that. You burned my home and my dreams. What do you want from me?” Her hand shook with anger as she pointed her pistol at the thin man in black. Zedock raced out from behind Ellie, and went right for Skink’s mechanical limb.
“Get this blasted beast off of me!” Silas yelled as he beat at the metal dog with his cane. Zedock was undeterred. “If you call him off, I’ll tell you why I’m here!” Silas yelled into the wind.
Ellie thought about this, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes. “Why are you here, Skink?” She started to lower her pistol when the sound of flash globes going off reached her ears. Gus!
Silas had the look of a snake ready to slither off. “Stay right where you are, Skink!” She shot the pistol near his good foot. Rock and dirt exploded, and the crack of the gunshot was absorbed, it seemed, by the storm itself.
“Good lord, girl, be careful with that thing!”
“I was being careful. Zedock, heel!” Zedock growled and moved to stand his ground by his master.
The sky was black and bubbling. Out over the prairie it extended, ominous and threatening. She was sure she could see a funnel cloud forming out over the plain.
“You may want to invite me in, Ellie. I promise you won’t regret it. Besides, I fear my…associates…may keep your friend busy for a while.”
She pondered what he offered, wanting to help Gus, but deep down knowing that somehow, this old, maniacal inventor had answers she needed. His actions had changed the course of her life and she wanted to know why. Gus could take care of himself and, hopefully, the locomotive.
Silas examined every part of the room as Ellie led him in. His cane tapped the ground and his mechanical leg whirred as he strode across the wooden floor.
“I do terribly regret having to burn down your dreams back in Chicago.” He pursed his lips. “Just thought I would get that out of the way now.”
Ellie narrowed her eyes. “I can hear the regret in your voice.”
Silas shrugged. “So, this is where the ol’ boy lived, eh?” He eyed the photos posted around the bookshelf. His left eyebrow raised in interest as he spotted the old war photo of Henning and his regiment.
“Get on with it, Silas. I’ve not invited you in for tea and crumpets.”
Setting his satchel on the floor, he pulled at his wool coat and removed it, as if he were settling in at an old friend’s home. “Pray tell, would you be averse to me taking a seat? After all, I am an old man with an artificial leg.” He smiled crookedly.
“Didn’t seem to slow you down as you ran away from my burning home. You escaped quite handily, actually.” Ellie could hear the wind and the rain beating against the walls, but hadn’t heard any more rifle shots. She hoped that was a good thing.
“Well, even so.” Silas sat down awkwardly into the overstuffed, worn leather chair that Gus had occupied only an hour earlier. “Nice piece of furniture for so far out here in the wilds.”
“It’s not mine. Tell me why you’re here before I make use of my newest rifle and take your leg as my trophy.”
He raised his hands. “My, such anger from such a pretty young lady. But then, you’re not like most. No, I knew you weren’t when I found you in Chicago.”
“Found me?” Ellie shook her head and leaned up against the worktable. “Were you following me?”
“Nothing so trite as that, my dear. Rather, I—” he paused for special effect, “—located you.” He strummed his fingers on his knee and smiled from one corner of his mouth.
Ellie snorted in disbelief. “So, I’m to believe some inventor past his prime wanted to track me down. For what, my brilliant concepts? And then you were so overwhelmed that you decided to burn them all?”
Silas looked at the ceiling, making a steeple of his fingers under his chin. “I can see you really have no idea.” He looked past her. “Have you ever really looked at the photo of your grandfather from the war?”
“Why?” Ellie questioned him as she walked to where the old photo hung, pulling it off the wall. Something from the yard hit the side of the house—thrown by the wind, no doubt—and made her jump. She was tougher than this. She couldn’t let the old man get inside her head.
“You come from a long line of warriors, Ellie Cole. Savage fighters, but also brilliant inventors. Look at that picture again. Who do you see?”
Ellie studied the photo, found her grandfather and smiled. Then her eye caught one of the men that she’d never paid any attention to before. It was Skink. Younger, with shaggy hair, but it was him—same cold, envious eyes. “You served with Grandpa?”
“Yes. He, of course, finished as captain of our regiment. I followed that man like a damned puppy dog, hoping to catch some of what he had.”
“Pfft. I’m pretty sure I know how that ended,” Ellie spit out. She slowly put her right hand by the pistol nestled at her hip, and could sense Zedock, lying on the floor at her feet, awaiting her command.
“You are just like him. Unflinching in your beliefs. Everything so black and white. Right and wrong. No room for gray with Henning. No room for weakness on the battlefield.” He paused, his eyes giving the room a once-over. “Henning always had to outshine me! Not only was he given more medals than I at the end, but he was never seriously injured. Look at me! Three-quarters the man I used to be! If it hadn’t been for my keen inventive skills, I’d be walking around on a wooden peg.” He tapped the lower part of his mechanical self with the tip of his cane.
“My grandfather was twice the man you are! It only takes two minutes of dealing with you to know that. He wouldn’t have wasted his time on you—a low-down cheat.” Ellie spat at him.
“Well, Ellie, as you know, sins of the father and all that. The Henning Flyer should be mine! We spoke of it during the long hot nights when sleep evaded us. Planning a future together. How we would become rich by carrying weapons, artillery, why, any commodity across the states at lightning speed! Even perhaps selling it and the specifications of the engine to the government. No more worrying where the next meal would come from, if there would be a roof overhead. But no, he took it once the war was done and we were let loose. He disappeared from sight for two decades. Blasted!” Silas pounded his cane onto the wood floor, causing Ellie to jump and Zedock to growl.
“Don’t lie to me, Skink! Grandfather worked on the Flyer my entire childhood. I won’t believe you had anything to do with the plans that created that magnificent beast.”
“Really? What if I told you I have the missing piece to make that beast, as you call it, run?” Silas reached for the black satchel.
Ellie began to worry. She didn’t want to believe this man, this charlatan. He stole wha
tever he could and then called it his own. As she thought more about that night in Chicago, she wondered now if he had been there searching for something about the locomotive. Perhaps the piece she herself was missing?
“Think of this, my dear—you and I finishing the locomotive and airship together. Debuting them at the World’s Fair! We would be the talk of the country, perhaps even the world! You would be an apprentice to the most sought-after inventor in the north!” His voice rose and cracked with the excitement of his own delusion.
“Skink, you’re a legend in your own mind. I would rather blow the Flyer up than let you lay one grubby hand on it and take any credit for it.” Her fingers wrapped around the pistol’s grip as she brought it around to face him.
At that moment, the back door slid open. Gus’s coat was askew and his hair wild. “You!” he growled in Silas’s direction. He started for the rifle that hung from a strap against his back.
Silas stood quickly, both hands on his cane. “Well, if it isn’t old Henning’s recruit.”
Ellie looked to Gus. “What’s going on? Do you know this man?”
Gus moved toward Silas like a lion on the attack, hands on the stock of his Winchester. “This poacher was here a year ago. Two weeks before your grandfather died, to be exact. Henning told me to watch out for you,” he snarled at Skink.
Ellie heard part of the loosened steel roof thwack against the house’s wooden beams. Gus moved nearly chest-to-chest with Silas. The thief’s eyes widened just a bit.
“Gus, what are you saying?”
Backing up just a step, he pointed at Silas. “He showed up here a year ago, looking for Henning and saying he was a relative. Told me they’d been separated years ago after the war and weaseled his way into the workshop. By the time I’d found Henning, Skink had ransacked the place.”
“Now, now,” Silas leaned with both hands on his cane. “I was only looking for what was rightfully mine.”
Gus’s head snapped back. “Wrong! You were in Henning’s regiment but you never shared any moments, as you’d like others to believe. He never meant for you to hear any of his plans for the future after the war. You eavesdropped and rifled through his journal. You’re a thief, Skink. You never had enough imagination for your own creations, so you had to steal what other people made.” The wind shrieked from outside, and it felt as if the house were shifting on its foundation.
“Gus, the storm.” Ellie moved to the periscope, observing the black sky streaked with pockets of green. She quickly turned back to the men.
“That train design is half-mine and I’ve come to take it!” Silas growled.
Ellie’s anger bubbled up from within. “Did you have anything to do with his death?”
Silas stared at her for a brief moment. “No. However, I can’t say that I was saddened to hear of it. I knew he’d have left something to you. I just happened to your place a tad too early to find anything.”
Ellie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Could her grandfather have been killed for the legacy he’d worked the last twenty years on? Was she next?
“That’s it. Out! I can’t listen to this incessant blather anymore!” Ellie yelled. She pulled the pistol from its holster, cocked the hammer, and aimed at Silas. “Go peacefully on your terms, or leave on mine.” Her words dripped with venom.
Skink walked toward Ellie. “Afraid I can’t leave until I get that train. You see, if you don’t want to accept my offer, I’ll have to take it by force. It seems my associates failed at the job I gave them, but if you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself!” He raised his cane and swung at Ellie’s hands.
Ellie stumbled back, narrowly avoiding the blow and just grabbing her pistol. She raised the pistol and fired. The bullet whizzed past Silas’s right ear. He dodged to the left and knocked a surprised Gus off-balance. He ran toward the front door.
Gus regained his balance and swung the rifle around his body from the back, bringing it up in front of him. Even Zedock realized it was now okay to run after the man in black. It was a flurry of excitement. Ellie and Gus raised their firearms and aimed at Silas as he bolted out the front door. Wind whipped through the room, making papers fly, windowpanes rattle, and items in the cupboards shake; flash globes exploded behind the cabinet doors. An incredible suction seemed to pull at them all.
Ellie fired another shot that hit its mark on Skink’s shoulder, and then he disappeared.
“Ellie! Get down!” She could barely hear Gus. He was frantically gesturing for her to hunker down. She needed to get away from the door. Grabbing Zedock as he started to race after Silas, she threw herself under the workbench.
It all happened so fast. The house creaked and moaned against the force outside. The howling wind made a sound worse than several locomotives bearing down on her, and the electrified ozone made the hair on her arms stand on end. When it was over, the quiet was deafening. Ellie wiped her eyes and looked around for Gus. He lay feet from her, coughing but seemingly unhurt. Ellie smiled, bent low, and hugged Zedock, who grunted with joy. As she stood, she saw, by the overturned leather chair, the black bag of Silas Skink.
Even after a week of searching, Silas Skink’s body was never found. His motorcar was demolished, and parts of it littered the yard. In the wake of cleaning up after the tornado, Ellie had forgotten to open the satchel he had left behind. Slowly she unbuckled the latches and pulled it open, unsure of what she’d find.
The satchel contained the journal her grandfather had kept during his time in the war and after. Slowly, she flipped through the yellowed pages, putting it to her nose and inhaling the scent of the aged ink and paper. The leather that bound it was cracked and faded in areas, but her fingers fit right where her grandpa’s had. He’d played many roles that he’d spoken little of to her in the short time she’d had with him, from a private and then captain in the army, to a mechanic for the flying ships. During that time he’d drawn up his own plans for the Henning Flyer. Without his journal and some of the specifics needed for completion, he’d had to recreate many of his plans by memory. The Henning Flyer had been a large, expensive undertaking, slowed by the need to support a family and the hard times that were always nipping at his heels, but he never gave up the dream.
With her grandfather’s journal, Ellie completed the Henning Flyer in two months. Finding a crew to help was not hard. The thought of having a part of an invention that would make its way to Chicago and could change their lives forever was enough for most. The airship that was fitted to the flatcar was completed with just days to spare.
On her departure, Ellie wore her grandfather’s old captain’s jacket, with his two flying medals and several other ribbons he’d earned pinned to her right lapel. Her pistol sat snug in its holster on her right hip. Earlier that morning she’d visited Grandpa Henning’s grave. Who knew when she’d be back?
“I’m finishing it, Grandpa. What you started. And the world is going to know just how great you were. Thank you.” Bowing her head, she whispered to him, and her words were carried away on the wind.
Ellie set off toward Chicago with Heatherton, the tracks disappearing into the setting sun. Yes, she was taking this locomotive to the Columbian Exposition and she would find the best inventor to study under. She would become the apprentice to someone like her grandfather and rebuild her life. She did, after all, have the blood of warriors in her veins. She wouldn’t give up and she would never back down!
My Dangerous Heart
Roxanne Werner
“Roshan, wait.”
His long strides carried him up the hill, leaving Aarushi far behind. He was eager to inspect the newest batch of sun-crystals.
He turned and waved from the summit. Aarushi struggled up the last few meters, her sari catching on every twig. She wished women were allowed to wear sensible clothes.
“Must you charge your crystals at the top of the world?” She sat and removed a stone from her slipper.
Roshan laughed. “You wanted to come. An
d this is hardly the top of the world. Someday I’ll take you on an airship to the Himalayas.”
Aarushi made a face. He knew her fear of airships, but it was impossible to stay angry with him. Few people saw this side of Roshan, his face animated with excitement, the curious young boy inside the sober engineer.
“And charging a crystal has nothing to do with height. I need to place them where they can capture the most sunlight.” He bent over a rack of crystals. “The ones on this tray are charged. Would you pack them for me?”
Deep within each crystal, the fiery glow of a miniature sun pulsed. Aarushi gently placed them in the velvet-lined compartments of a wooden box.
As Roshan examined the next tray, his face darkened.
“What’s wrong?” Aarushi moved beside him. He didn’t need to answer. Even she could see. The centers of these crystals were black and dead.
He held one up to the sunlight. Tiny fractures radiated through it as though it had exploded from within.
“I tried a different pattern of facets, thinking if I created larger interior planes the crystal would trap more energy. It should have worked.”
Aarushi examined one. “Maybe it worked too well.”
“Too well?” He scowled, pointing at the rows of blasted crystals.
Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “You can only stuff so much rice in a sack before the seams burst.”
“Seams?” He stared at the fractured stones. “Shi-shi, you’re a genius! It did work, but I focused too much energy for the size of the crystals.” He lifted her and spun around, laughing.
Aarushi’s long black braid streamed out as Roshan twirled her around. She laughed.
Then he stopped and his eyes locked on hers. He set her down, but didn’t let go.
Heat rushed over her as he drew her into an embrace and kissed her. Blood pounded through her body. She was a crystal absorbing the energy of Roshan, her sun. Any moment her heart would explode, but she didn’t care if it shattered. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer.
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