by Becca Andre
Liam stood as well. “You’re not doing this for me. You’re doing it for the world—starting with your hometown.”
“Don’t make it sound so noble. I’m going to save them, not kill them.”
“What happens when it turns out that you can’t? When all this nonsense about the drake turns out to be just that—nonsense? I bet he would even agree with me.”
“Leave him out of this.”
Liam sighed. “I’m aware of your fondness for him, lass, and I’m not asking you to put him down—though I fear that day will come sooner rather than later—but you must listen to those who know, who have seen, and who can show you how to end this nightmare.”
“You can argue with me until you’re blue in the face. I won’t do it.”
Liam shook his head. “You always were a stubborn one.”
Briar crossed her arms.
“How about this…” Perseus stepped into the dim light from the lantern, and Briar jumped. She hadn’t even seen him climb up from the cargo hold.
“What if we try it your way, my lady,” Perseus continued, “and if that fails, then you will have some training to fall back on.”
“I don’t think this argument is helpful,” Liam cut in. “I need you to help me convince her of exactly what we’re up against. You more than anyone can explain just what that is.”
“I can also appreciate what she is trying to do.”
Liam turned to stare at him. “Stopping a ferromancer’s devolvement will not stop him from becoming a monster. He will still be able to create the soulless.”
“Are you calling Grayson a monster?” Briar demanded. “He has never—and would never create the soulless.”
Liam faced her. “If the myth is true, then pursuing this will damn him that much more quickly. Is that what you really want?”
“Of course not.” She struggled to keep her emotions in check, even as her despair tried to swallow her. “But killing them without even giving them a chance is wrong, too.”
“Let’s say for the sake of argument that you are successful. The most powerful outside the drake is the leon.” Liam referred to Grayson and Solon by their ferromancer names. “Do you want those who survive to follow this Solon fellow?”
Briar lifted her chin. “I won’t kill.”
Liam rubbed a hand over his face before he turned to Perseus. “I’m sending word to everyone I can reach. I would advise you to do the same.”
“I began doing so as soon as I learned of this gathering of ferromancers.”
Briar faced him. “I thought you were on my side.”
“I am, but as your uncle pointed out, I do understand what’s at stake. I prefer to be prepared.”
He was preparing by gathering a Scourge army that would converge on the place where she was taking Grayson. Perhaps she should take him west and let him build locomotives as Esme had intended. Maybe they should leave the country entirely. But could she sacrifice her hometown?
She had no answers.
Without a word, she picked up the plate, now devoid of blackberries, and walked away.
“Briar?” Liam called after her.
She ignored him and climbed down the ladder, escaping to her cabin. This conversation was over. She let the hatch slam behind her.
They arrived in Canal Fulton by midmorning the next day. Briar had managed to keep busy, avoiding Liam and any new attempts to sway her to his way of thinking, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he renewed his efforts.
Without a toll office, they didn’t need to stop, but Briar decided to dock long enough to switch out the mule team—and send Zach over to the general store and post office to check for wanted posters. Her cousin Andrew still claimed she’d stolen the Briar Rose, so they’d not taken the canvas off the transom, now sporting the name Beaumont. But disguised or not, it was her own picture that was on the wanted posters. To her relief, Zach didn’t find any.
Zach moved off to take his turn driving the mules, and she headed back to the boat. To her surprise, Liam was crossing the gangplank, his suitcase in hand.
“Are you leaving us?” Briar asked, walking over to join him as he stepped onto the dock. He hadn’t said anything about departing, but she had been avoiding him. Was that why he was leaving? She felt a bit guilty about that.
“I told Agatha I’d be back yesterday,” he answered. “I’ll rejoin you in a few days. Perseus is going to telegraph.”
She frowned. Was he really leaving to keep a promise to Agatha, or was there more to it?
“You look unhappy,” Liam said.
She wanted to ask about his plans, but didn’t want to get into it again, especially if he was leaving. “I hope Agatha isn’t too worried.”
“I sent her a telegraph before we left Cleveland, but you know how she frets.”
“I do.” Especially about Liam. She wondered now if Agatha had had too many close calls over the years. After all, Liam had probably been sent on a lot of dangerous jobs when he served the ferra.
Liam gripped Briar’s shoulder, bringing her attention back to the moment. “Think about what I said. Perseus can—”
“Let’s not belabor the topic, or part on bad terms.”
Liam sighed. “Very well.” He set down his suitcase and pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you, Briar Rose.”
She hugged him just as fiercely. “Love you, too.”
He kissed her forehead, then held her at arm’s length, studying her.
“Yes?” she prompted.
He just smiled and released her, then bent to pick up his suitcase. “I’ll try to rejoin you in Newark. Check the telegraph office if I’m not there.”
“All right.”
“Keep Perseus close.”
She wanted to ask if that was a precaution against Grayson, but again, she didn’t want to part on bad terms. “I will,” she said instead.
Liam nodded, and with a fond smile, walked away. She watched him for a moment before returning to the boat.
Once the gangplank was taken in, she collected one of Esme’s journals and climbed up to the aft deck.
Eli waited at the tiller, a worried wrinkle on his brow. “Is everything all right, Miss Briar? Is your uncle—”
“He needed to get home sooner than we could deliver him.” She stepped down to join Eli. “Will you get us moving?”
He studied her a moment longer, but to her relief, decided to let the topic drop. Lifting his gaze to the waiting mules, he shouted to Zach to move out.
Zach got the team moving, silently, as he had for years. The mules started down the towpath, the towline stretching behind them until the slack had run out and the boat surged forward. To Briar’s surprise, Grayson hadn’t joined Zach. This was Grayson’s usual time of day to get off the boat and walk the towpath.
She was about to go look for him when he and Benji climbed up onto the bow deck from the forward cargo hold. They each had a fishing pole.
“Bet I can guess what we’re having for supper,” Eli said.
She chuckled and took a seat on the rail beside him. “Are you going psychic on me, Eli? Can I expect séances and such in the near future?”
“There’s that wit. I was beginning to wonder where it went.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind.” She glanced down at Esme’s journal, now resting in her lap.
Eli sighed, gazing at the canal ahead of them.
“No lecture?” she asked.
“I think we’re well past that.”
“Eli—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, Miss Briar. I know you’re in love with that man. The things you’ve done to save him…”
“Almost like he’s crew, huh?” She nudged him with her shoulder. “I’d do the same for any of you.”
A slight smile touched Eli’s face bu
t didn’t last.
“What?” she asked when he remained silent. “Are you still hung up on that boast he made the first day after we kidnapped him?” When Grayson had taunted Eli with the suggestion that he intended to seduce her in order to win his freedom.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Eli frowned, watching Grayson help Benji with his pole. It looked like he was working on the hook. Perhaps it had bent or something.
“I’m afraid he’ll break your heart,” Eli admitted at last.
“Because of a defect of character, or because he’ll devolve and need to be put down?”
“Either possibility would hurt you.”
She started to come to Grayson’s defense on the character aspect, but stopped herself. If Eli didn’t see the good in him, she couldn’t prove it no matter how hard she argued. As for the other… There was no argument—unless she could figure out a way to save him.
Her fingers tightened on the journal.
“You’re not going to argue with me?” Eli sounded surprised.
“No, I’m not. Life is full of risks, and I chose to take this one. You need to let me.”
He once again turned his attention to the bow of the boat where Grayson was already pulling in a fish.
“It ain’t easy,” Eli admitted.
She smiled and gave him another nudge with her shoulder. “You need to find a woman. You’d make an amazing father.”
“What?” He looked so shocked that she laughed. She was still laughing when Molly emerged from the cabin below them.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, shaking out her skirts after the climb up the ladder. “And why does Mr. Waller look so stricken?”
Briar got control of her mirth. “I was just commenting that Eli would make a great dad—after all these years looking out for me.”
“If you are the end result of his parenting skills, I now understand his expression,” Molly said.
Eli chuckled.
“Come on now,” Briar protested.
“Of course, the same could be said for me,” Molly continued. “You’ve spent several winters under my roof.”
“True,” Briar agreed as Molly stepped down onto the tiller deck to join them. Beneath the awning, but still open to the breeze, the tiller deck was the coolest location on the boat. Judging by Molly’s rosy cheeks, she was ready to get out of that hot cabin and get some air.
A shout drew their attention to the bow of the boat. Benji was on his feet, his fishing pole bent double as he tried to land whatever he had caught.
Grayson stood to help him, but had to turn his attention to his own pole as it suddenly bent over.
“That’s the third fish those two have caught in as many minutes,” Eli said. “I think your ferromancer is cheating.”
“How?” Briar asked.
Eli lifted the hand that wasn’t holding the tiller and wiggled his fingers. “Some black magic, I’m sure.” He said it in jest, but Briar suspected there was a bit of true feeling beneath the glib words.
“Guess I’d better go rein him in before he conjures a demon or something.” Briar got to her feet.
“Don’t exorcise him until after he catches enough fish for dinner,” Molly said. “I’ve already started the preparations.”
Eli chuckled, and Molly took Briar’s seat on the rail beside him.
“All right.” Briar stepped up onto the aft deck and headed for the catwalk.
“So how long have you known Briar?” Molly asked Eli.
“Reckon it’s been about ten years now. Her uncle hired me on when I was nineteen. Hard to believe it’s been that long.”
Smiling to herself, Briar headed for the bow. She was tempted to stay and tell Molly the story of that day—and how Eli had almost come to blows with Andrew, but she’d been trying not to speak of Andrew too much around Molly. She realized now that Molly had never loved him, and somehow that made Andrew’s treatment of her even more hurtful. It saddened her that Molly had endured it all those years.
Benji was already hauling in another fish by the time Briar arrived on the bow deck.
“What sort of spell have you two cast on the fish?” Briar asked. “I’ve never seen so many caught in such a short time.”
“It’s Mr. Martel’s lures,” Benji answered, then glanced at Grayson. “That’s what you’re calling them, right?”
“Yes.” Grayson’s eyes met hers, a mischievous twinkle already alight. “And it’s not a spell, it’s something of a mechanical design.”
“Look here.” Benji already had the fish off the line and held out the hook for her inspection.
It wasn’t a simple hook. A shiny, oblong silver disk had been mounted on a shaft that attached it to the string. On the other end was a multi-barbed hook.
“The silver piece swirls as it trails in the water,” Benji continued, his excitement overcoming his usual shyness. “And it looks like the flash of a minnow to the big fish. Mr. Martel says they’re not bright enough to know the difference.”
She glanced at Grayson who was smiling at Benji’s enthusiastic explanation. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert on fish intellect,” she said to him.
“As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve had a varied education.”
Benji tossed the line back in the water, allowing it to trail alongside the boat.
“Soul-iron fish bait,” she said. “That is varied.”
“Mr. Martel said they could also be made from regular steel, all polished up,” Benji added.
“So you don’t need to be a ferromancer to make these fish foolers?”
“Lures,” Grayson corrected.
“Anyone can make them,” Benji answered her. “The metal could be molded, and you could bend the wire with pliers.”
“Are you thinking of going into business, Ben Beaumont?” she teased.
“Oh, I’m not leaving the boat, but I thought I’d make up a mess during the winter months. I could sell them along the canal—if you don’t mind, Captain.”
“Of course not. That sounds like an enterprising thing to do.” She chewed her lip, trying not to smile. She’d never seen Benji so animated about something. It reminded her a bit of Grayson when he got excited about one of his inventions.
“I don’t reckon I’ll be driving your mules forever, and seeing as I’m getting older, I ought to start looking to my future.”
She smiled at his earnest tone. “Seems like a good thing to be thinking on.”
“Mr. Martel said he could teach me about forging and such. Real metal,” he quickly added. “Not soul iron.”
“Of course.” She glanced over at Grayson who had turned his attention to his fishing pole. Was he wondering—as she was—if he would be able to make good on that promise? Or would the outcome of Solon’s gala prevent it?
Grayson abruptly seized his pole. He had another fish on his line.
“If your lures are half as good as these, Benji, they’re going to sell like hotcakes.”
Benji didn’t get to answer as he was fighting another fish.
“We’re going to be eating fish morning, noon, and night,” she added.
“I thought we might trade our excess for some apples,” Grayson said as he hauled in the fish. “As I recall, there was an orchard north of Massillon.”
Briar’s cheeks warmed as she remembered that particular stretch of towpath. She and Grayson had walked along it in the moonlight—hand and hand.
“And what do you plan to do with these apples?” she asked to hide her reaction.
“Molly and I were planning some pies.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’m certainly glad I kidnapped you.”
Grayson looked up, meeting her gaze. “Me, too.”
Briar blushed again—especially when Benji cast t
hem a sidelong glance. He’d been present when she’d admitted to kissing Grayson, and no doubt knew what Grayson meant.
“Well, I’ll leave you boys to your fishing. I’ve got some reading to do.” She gestured with the journal she held.
Grayson eyed the book, his expression sobering.
“All right, Captain,” Benji agreed.
She offered another smile, amused by Benji’s outspokenness. He was certainly excited about his new business prospect, enough to converse openly with her without blushing and going silent. Or perhaps he was growing up.
Walking toward the aft deck, she mused on how quickly time seemed to pass, especially when one looked back. Benji had been a skinny thirteen-year-old when he first joined her crew. Now, he was on the cusp of manhood and considering the future course of his life. His prospects were so different from what Grayson’s had been, or those of any other ferromancer youth.
She gripped the journal more tightly. That’s why she must get back to her studies. Maybe she could find a way to give those ferromancer boys a future.
Grayson’s memory of the apple orchard had been accurate, and they were able to trade a couple stringers of fish for a basket of apples. With it being well into the afternoon, Briar would have expected him to save the pie making for the following day, but Grayson had created a hand-cranked apple peeler along with a wickedly sharp apple corer before they were even underway.
Grayson’s new kitchen implements were all made from soul iron, but that hadn’t stopped Benji from sitting at his elbow and asking question after question about their construction.
Zach, smiling at his brother’s enthusiasm, had left him to watch Grayson while he finished Benji’s turn on the towpath, driving the mules on into Massillon.
Once docked, Briar went out to help Zach with the team, though she would have liked to stay and hear the rest of Grayson’s lecture on gear ratios.
“Is Ben slacking in his duties?” Zach asked when she stepped up to take Bramble’s bridle. The good-natured mule nuzzled her shoulder—unlike Big Red who would have taken a bite.
“I’ve never seen Benji so animated,” she answered. “We had an entire conversation, and he didn’t trip over his tongue or blush once.”