City of Steam (Blackburn Chronicles)

by Dominic K Alexander

  "You didn't seem to have a problem killing Devin, so why not just kill me at the same time?"

  "Because you have persuasive friends."

  "Around here? I think you must be mistaken."

  "Oh, don't think so little of yourself." Wiley said coming up the stairs behind her. Mac could not have been happier to see a familiar face. "My friend here and I were able to come to an accord for the price of a cask of stout." For the first-time Mac saw Jonas smile.

  "I'm not sure it was worth the price." Jonas said giving Mac a wink. Mac shot a dirty look back.

  "As much as I would love to sit here and renegotiate the price, we are wasting away much needed time. Shall we." Wiley gave a slight bow while motioning down the stairs. Before Mac could disappear, Jonas stopped her.

  "You may think of me as a mean old man, girl, but I love my city and will protect her no matter what the cost. You have my word that I will find you a way home, but know it will cost you your life if you ever decide to come back here. Do we understand each other?"

  "This city has done nothing but tear everything I know apart. You can have it. You have done nothing but kill the one person I could love. I assure you I will not be back to visit."

  "People like you will never understand the life that runs through this city. I welcome your leave."

  Mac turned without another word and left the building.

  19.

  Mac sat in the back of Wiley's cask transport cart. The smell of spilled wine made her nose burn, but she ignored it still thinking about Devin and everything she had just been told about her family. No matter who she talked to, all the bad things seemed to lead back to the Blackburn name. As much as she wanted to blame the people for bringing on many of the problems themselves, everything began with her family. Their mistakes would ripple through history as the route of everything else.

  The thought of the millions of lives lost, her mother, her father, the struggles her sister was forced to endure, and the mental anguish she lived with was something that had no end. Could she never have a family of her own fearing the family curse would also fall on her children? Would her husband be forced to live with the same struggles she was damned with? There needed to be an end to the vicious cycle.

  As Wiley pulled the cart around the corner to the side alley next to his bar, Mac continued to sit and think. There needed to be a way for her to make right of her family’s wrongs. There needed to be a way to stop the suffering of the people inside and outside of the walls. There was only one way to save everyone. The idea of it dripped like venom through her thoughts.

  "Mac, we need to get inside before someone sees you." Wiley said.

  "I need you to take me to the duke's mansion." Mac said through wide eyes.

  "I... wait...what?" Wiley looked indignant at the idea. "I certainly will not do any such thing."

  "Please take me to the duke. I must speak with him."

  "That is not going to happen." Wiley spat, rolling his eyes. "I insist we go inside, now." He motioned for her to go through the back entrance. Mac stepped from the back of the cart and started for the road heading for the duke's mansion paying no attention to Wiley who was practically coming unglued with her actions.

  "Mac, STOP!" Wiley yelled. Mac stopped and turned to look at him. His face was red with anger. "The guards will kill you the moment they see you, which will be a quick moment if you step out onto the street."

  "I must talk to the duke. You can take me there or I will try to get there on my own, but the meeting will happen." Wiley stared for a second, slammed the back door of his cart, and opened the side door to let her in. With a smile Mac sat in the cart and Wiley grabbed her wrists tying them together. Mac tried to pull away, but Wiley was much stronger than she had previously given him credit for. "What did you think, I was just going to drive to the mansion like we were best friends?” He let out a chuckle. "Mac Blackburn, I herby detain you under the order of duke Weir III. If you do not comply, I will be forced to take lethal action."

  "In that case, I surrender." Mac shook with laughter as Wiley tightened the rope and threw a burlap sack over her head.

  “I wouldn't want a guard to recognize you and try to claim the reward for himself, now would we. And so, we are clear, you owe me since your sister may very well kill me for doing this. That is if the duke doesn't kill me first for not believing my story.”

  Wiley disappeared back into his pub for a moment before returning. The cart lurched forward and they were off. Sweat rolled off Mac's forehead as they came closer to the mansion. She knew the likelihood of her being killed was high, but if her plan worked it would save her sister and the citizens also.

  The cart slowed to a stop at, what Mac assumed, the mansion gate. Wiley informed the guard he had a prisoner the duke would want to see immediately. Creaking from the opening gate made Mac jump slightly before the cart rolled forward and came to a final stop on the other side and as the gate slammed shut Mac knew there was no going back.

  Wiley pulled the hood from Mac's head and looked her square in the eyes. "You're sure this is something you want to do?"

  "It's the only way. And besides, at this point I am not sure we have much of a choice." A guard let out a shocked breath noticing who Wiley had brought in. Several other guards began to surround them.

  "Nope, it would seem you are correct." Wiley turned and motioned for one of the guards to come over. The man approached without looking away from Mac. "I was forced to bind her with rope. I hope that is sufficient."

  The guard examined Mac's wrists before removing a set of metal shackles from his uniform and tightening them to her. The cold steel was bulky and lose and Mac couldn't help but think the rope the guard cut off her was much more of a restraint than the shackles. As Mac looked up to Wiley, the side of his mouth twitched upward for a split second.

  Mac couldn't help but feel important as they moved into the Mansion. She was surrounded by guards like some high priority prisoner. She wasn't sure if she could take one guard in a fight, and here were seven.

  A gummy sensation began to overtake her legs as they approached the duke's office. What she had once thought to be a good idea, now didn't seem like much of one. Regardless, she knew she had to do something. It was her fault her father was gone. It was her fault her sister was now in danger. It was her families fault the citizens were suffering. There had to be a way to stop it all, and whether it meant her life, or her help, something must be done.

  Stopping in front of the office door, one of the guards knocked before entering, leaving them waiting in the hall. After a moment, the doors opened and Mac and Wiley were let in.

  "Wiley, so good to see you my dear friend." The duke stood and came around his desk to properly greet Wiley. After shaking hands the duke turned to look at Mac. "I see you come bearing gifts."

  "Yes, duke." Wiley said with a slight bow. He unwrapped a bottle of wine from a parcel he had been carrying under his arm, he held the bottle out to the duke, and smiled. The duke let out a throaty laugh and accepted the bottle.

  "Your wine is always greatly appreciated, but today I have a taste for something much more valuable. And this gift shall fetch you quite the reward."

  "No reward is necessary, duke." Wiley bowed again. "In all honesty, she wandered into my pub looking for a way to talk with you. I simply obliged."

  The duke continued to look at Mac, his slightly scrunched face staring and contemplating what he was just told. "The reward was for Miss Blackburn to be brought before me. As far as I am concerned, you have fulfilled set contract." The duke stepped back behind his desk and pulled a large wooden box out and sliding it to Wiley. Wiley took the box and before he could thank him the duke focused back on Mac.

  "I must ask, Miss Blackburn. Why is it that such a little lamb would wander so willingly into the lion’s den? Does this little lamb think that she might be able to kill me?" Mac noticed Walter step from the corner, red faced and hand on his sidearm.

  "I'm looking for
answers." Mac said flatly. The duke once again started laughing.

  "So you come wandering in here hoping to find answers, do you?" The Duke continued to laugh, but Mac could see the curiosity wash over him. "You are a silly girl, but I will admit, you have my attention."

  "You want my father and insist he is still alive. I want to know why he tried to kill you and your sister. As of now you have been unable to find him. I want to help. I give you my father and you stop holding my family and your people responsible for what happened. That's my offer." Mac stared into the dukes cold eyes a shiver running up her spine. He sat in his chair leaning back slightly eyes locked on her.

  "But the citizens of this city ARE responsible for what happened to my sister." The duke said in a low cold tone.

  "The people here didn't pull the roof down in this place. They were doing nothing more than responding to the hate brought forth as a political tool used for your monetary gain." The duke came across the table like a mountain lion on its prey. His cane slashed the air meeting Mac's face and sending her to the floor.

  Mac balled up on the floor tears running from pure habit. Her body shook as she held her magic in. She smiled slightly knowing she had touched a nerve. Odds had always been in favor of him killing Mac, but after getting that last dig in, she didn't particularly care much.

  The cane ceased to attack Mac a second time, but Mac could hear the duke breathing hard from above her. She waited several long seconds and nothing happened.

  "So do we have a deal?" Mac said peeking up at him. His squinted eyes looked upon her and she knew he wanted to kill her where she lay. She also knew if that happened he would likely never get revenge on her father. At this point she just wanted him to flip a coin and make up his mind. He exhaled slowly and stepped back to his desk sitting back into his chair.

  "And what is to stop you from running off and never coming back?" The duke asked. Mac rose back to her feet. The pain in her jaw had already disappeared.

  "I think we both know you will be sending some of your assassins with me. Plus, if I had any interest in running away, why come to see you in the first place. I would have just left." The duke stared at her, fingers crossed, lost in his own thoughts. After a minute, he stood and looked at Walter who had been standing quietly in the back of the room; eyes locked on Mac.

  "I want you to take two men and aid Miss Blackburn in finding her father. I will give you three days. And, I will add, if you fail me I will take your failures out on your daughter. Maybe she can help us find a new doctor." Mac watched Walter grip the handle of his pistol tight turning his attention to the duke. Without a word, he left the room grabbing Mac and pulling her out with him.

  "Wiley, shall we partake in some of your fine spirits?" The duke said as Mac was dragged from the room.

  Once out of earshot of the other guards, Walter started yelling at her.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing? I told you not to come back to this place. I risked everything to get you free. You don't think he recognized the armor you're wearing. You think you're clever coming in and trying to make a deal with him. I'll let you know he is already ten steps ahead of you. Your family just can't help killing everyone around them, can they?" His hand squeezed the butt of his gun over and over and Mac was sure he wanted to pull it and end this whole fiasco. She couldn't look him in the eyes. Putting her own life on the line was one thing, but she had no idea Walter was being held hostage by the duke and his daughter was the price for failure.

  Walter gripped Mac's arms tight and shook her. "Answer me!" He yelled. "Do you know what you've done?" He threw her back turning and walking several steps away. His voice calmed sounding more sad than angry. "Do you understand there is no way I can save you now."

  "Walter!” Mac snapped. "I have been saved over and over since I came to this place. My body shakes every time I turn a corner because I'm always expecting something or someone to attack me. I am a broken girl from a different world who, until a few days ago, had a dead mother and father. Now I find out I have a sister and my family may still be alive, but they are responsible for millions of people’s pain, suffering, and death. How can you expect someone to live with that knowledge? Isn't it time for someone to step in and right the wrongs that have been done?"

  "And what makes you think you are the least bit capable of saving anyone here? Have you even figured out your powers yet?" Mac was about to answer, but Walter cut her off. "It doesn't matter if you do because no one has seen your father in years. He hightailed it out of here the moment things fell apart. He was a smart man. It's too bad he didn't pass that on to you."

  "Actually, I do have an idea where I can find him. I don't think he left this place at all." Mac looked at Walter head held high. Walter shook his head and started back down the hallway.

  "We may as well just go order a set of coffins right now."

  "Or, you could have just a bit of faith in me and grab some supplies and whatever goons we are supposed to bring and let's get moving. If you've forgotten already, the duke placed us on a timeline and every wasted breath here is one step closer to our death."

  "What makes you think your father is even alive?" Walter spit the venomous words at Mac and she looked at him, pain in her eyes. She simply started walking away from him, hurt that he would come after her like that. Walter stepped back to her side quickly. His face contorted seeing the tears start to run down her face. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a bandana, and handed it to her. They called truce without even saying a word. Mac took the bandana, wiped her face, then silently followed Walter to the supply room where they each packed a bag and started heading for the outside garage.

  "Don't you need to go get some assassins to come with us?" Mac asked.

  "It would seem the duke has already taken the time to do that for me." Walter hooked a thumb at two assassins following several yards behind them. The men were already geared up with packs and weaponry for the trip.

  "The duke really is having some trust issues with you." Mac said with a smile. Walter ignored her grinding his teeth as he went. "Come on boys, we wouldn't want to be late, now would we." She gave a wave to follow.

  As they made their way outside and entered a small garage Mac stopped in her tracks and stared. The vehicles were like nothing she had seen before. Walter ignored her and started throwing his gear onto a large Metal horse which responded as if it were alive. He ran his hand down the side of the massive beast and it calmed pushing closer into him showing its approval.

  As for the other vehicles, well, they were much like a motorcycle, but instead of wheels they had, for lack of a better term, legs. Eight legs to be exact. They were spidercycles Mac thought to herself and smiled. She stepped over to one and as she was about to straddle her new ride Walter interjected.

  "No, Mac." He said. "Your ride is over here." She stopped, looked at the spidercycle one last time, ran her finger down the side, then walked away finding the ride Walter had set for her.

  "You have got to be kidding me." Mac spat as she found her new ride. It was a mix between a tank and a motorcycle. There was a thick metal wheel on the front, handlebars, and a seat, but the back was fully armored with a steam stack sticking up at the rear. As Mac stared at the run-down tank thing, Walter's horse gave a low snort and scuffed its feet a couple times. “All right, I'm going." Mac said and tossed her gear into the small cubby on the back of her ride. Walter let out a laugh then mounted his horse and started out of the garage ignoring the obscene gesture Mac made as she pushed a button and her tankcycle roared to life belching smoke as it went. The two other assassins mounted up their spiders and were lifted in the air gliding out the door. They also ignored Mac's gestures.

  As they headed for the front gate she chugged up next to Walter watching him intently. "Always the cowboy." She said.

  "I've always loved old western movies." He replied. "It's been years since any movies have come from your world. The last movie I watched was when I was a young man. It was cal
led The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Made me what I am today."

  "You shouldn't call yourself ugly." Mac said with a smile. Walter gave her a rough look before letting out a snort. They exited the city without another word.

  "So where are we headed?" Walter asked.

  "As far as I can tell, there is only one place the duke and his assassins haven't looked and that's where I am pretty sure my father will be."

  "Tell me you aren't serious." Walter said not looking at Mac.

  "I'm serious. We are going to check out the Crystal Well ruins." She looked back as one of the spidercycles jerked back and the rider almost fell off. It took him several seconds before recovering and moving ahead as if nothing had happened. This gave Walter a great deal of satisfaction and he had a larger smile than Mac had seen before.

  "You're sure." Walter said.

  "Yup." Mac replied.

  The two assassins looked at each other before turning back to Mac. Walter shook his head and with a snap of his reins the horse sped up in the direction of Crystal Well. Mac cranked her handlebars and followed, the assassins on her heels.

  20.

  The ride was long and they had to stop once for a meal. The assassins kept to themselves, but they never took an eye off Mac. Walter simply made a fire, shot a couple of rodent type of animals that were unfamiliar to Mac, and grilled them. Hesitant in trying it she realized after the first couple of bites they were good. A little BBQ sauce and it would be a permanent addition to her menu.

  After the meal, they packed up and continued to the ruins. Mac rode quietly thinking about the people with her. There had to be some way to get away from them. She knew they were capable killers since the duke sent them, but everyone made mistakes. She knew he wouldn't send someone who would be unable to handle a magic user and gunslinger if we got out of hand, so these two were likely beyond the skill level of any average assassin. An escape was looking more and more bleak as time passed. Finally, she gave up on the thought and looked up to Walter.