by Becca Andre
Briar frowned. That was a canal town they had just passed through.
“He also dropped this.” The other fellow offered Eddie a piece of paper. “It has a name on it.”
“A name?” Eddie asked.
“I assume it’s a name. It says Beaumont.”
Briar stilled and Kali grunted.
Eddie studied the scrap of paper a moment, then wadded it and let it fall to the ground. “Who can say? It’s probably some guy he owes money.” Eddie bent and picked up the strong box. “Reckon I ought to lock this up a little better.” He gave Briar a nod. “Thanks for your help, ma’am. Sorry about the trouble.”
“Like I said, not your fault. Now I’d best go check my boat.”
“If you have any damage, let me know. I could probably find you some lumber to make the repairs.”
Briar thanked him for the offer, then watched Eddie and his buddy return to the building via a back door.
Once they were inside, she bent and picked up the crumpled paper. It looked like it had been torn from the back flap of an envelope. She smoothed it out and discovered that Beaumont had indeed been written on the paper. She didn’t recognize the crude handwriting.
“My lady?” Perseus prompted.
She showed him the scrap of paper. “It seems we were the target, though I’ve never heard of this Richard guy.”
“Perhaps our stalker found him, drunk and disgruntled in a tavern, and put him up to this. Sabotage his old employer and perhaps earn something on the side for going after you.”
Briar had to agree that that sounded like a plausible scenario. “Come on. I want to remove the canvas on the transom.” She tucked the slip of paper into her pocket and started walking, gesturing for them to follow. “If there’s any kind of investigation, I don’t want to be part of it. We don’t have time to be delayed here.”
“Of course, my lady,” Perseus said. “I’ll run ahead and get started on that.”
She barely got out a thank you before he turned and jogged away.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Kali demanded as soon as Perseus was out of earshot. “It’s like he’s your soulless or something.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You gave him your blood and took his oath.”
“That was his idea, and the only part I played was to nick my finger. Anything else was his doing, just as it was his idea to hurry back to the boat and cut down the canvas. You heard him suggest it.”
“It was your idea to cut it down.”
Briar threw her hands in the air. “So what? I have ideas from time to time. I can’t help it if someone volunteers to make them a reality.”
“But maybe he can’t help himself. Maybe the blood oath compels him to act.”
“Does it? I have no clue. Besides, I’m not ferra. Who’s to say it does anything at all. Maybe Perseus offered to help because he’s good with knives and can make short work of it. Or he understands that the sooner we take down the canvas, the less chance we have of getting mired in this mess.”
Kali spared her a glare, but walked on. “Where’s Grayson?”
“I assume he returned to the boat. There may be repairs that need to be made.” It was a plausible excuse. She couldn’t tell Kali that she had no idea where Grayson had gone.
“I don’t sense him.” Kali eyed the boat which was now secured on the other side of the canal.
“Are you close enough to be sure?” Briar asked.
“For him, yes.”
“Huh.” Briar tried to appear indifferent, but her pulse raced. Grayson? she reached out to him. Where are you?
“Shouldn’t you be worried?” Kali asked. “He’s your responsibility, and he’s not where he’s supposed to be.”
Briar ignored her, reaching up to grip the medallion. Grayson? Please answer me.
“Briar?” Kali prompted.
Before Briar could reply, an image rose in her mind. She saw a grove of trees and a small stream nearby, but no other defining features.
I don’t know where that is.
Another sensation followed, the meaning translating to words in her mind. He wanted to be alone.
“You’re communicating with him, aren’t you?” Kali asked.
“Yes. He’s fine, just taking a quiet moment alone. He had to call on the ferromancer during our confrontation with that thief.”
“He is a ferromancer, and what does a moment gain him?”
Briar huffed. “Would you give it a rest? I know you’re longing for a reason to take him down, but—”
“That’s not true. I told the truth when I said I liked him, but the fact remains that he is a fully cast drake who is not bound to a ferra. He can’t wander off and take a moment.”
“All right, fine. I’ll go collect him. Will that make you happy?”
“I’ll sleep easier.”
Briar turned to head back the way she’d come. “Please let the others know where I’ve gone, and that I’ll be back soon.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Kali’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
Briar ignored her and hurried away.
She returned to the forest behind the sawmill. Night was falling, and it was getting dark among the trees.
“Lock?” she whispered. “Can you take me to Grayson? There’s no one here to see you.”
An instant later, the little dragon was perched on her shoulder. He rubbed his cheek to hers, emitting a mournful coo.
“You’re worried about him,” Briar whispered.
A sad whirr answered her.
She reached up and rubbed him beneath the chin. “Me, too. Help me find him?”
With a hopeful whirr, Lock sprang into the air. He was a flash of silver in the darkening forest. He flew a short distance, then landed on a sapling a few yards ahead of her.
Just as she reached him, he sprang forward once more, leading her deeper into the trees.
This scene continued until Briar walked into that small clearing beside the nameless stream. Lock alighted on Grayson’s shoulder where he sat on a mossy log.
“Hey,” Briar said, walking over to join him. “I’m sorry, but we need to get back.”
“You mean, I need to return to where I can be watched.” His voice was flat, though not ferromancer cool. Had he picked up on her conversation with Kali?
“It makes our Scourge passengers more comfortable.”
“And you?”
She sat down beside him. “I like being near you, yes.” She reached over and took his hand.
“I don’t think you should touch me—or be here alone.”
“Why not?”
“I think Perseus might be right,” he whispered. “I’m not as stable as I think I am.”
“Grayson.” She squeezed his hand. “It was a moment of high emotion, and the guy had a gun. You overreacted.”
“I really, really wanted to absorb that man’s soul.”
“He seemed a bit seedy. Certainly, that wouldn’t have been very… refreshing.”
“I’m serious. I wanted him.”
“I thought you wanted me.”
“Briar,” he whispered, the misery heavy in his voice.
God, this was tearing her apart. She leaned over to lay her head on his shoulder, and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Did I call you off him?” she asked, needing to know if anything she did had an effect, but dreading his answer. If she hadn’t called him off would he have made the man soulless?
“Yes,” he whispered. “Maybe yes to both questions.”
She closed her eyes, struggling not to share the despair. “Was it the same as when I called you off Eli?”
“As best I can tell.”
“Can you describe it to me? Give me some idea what I’m doing.”
He was silent for a moment, and she wondered if he hesitated because he didn’t want her to know. Or because he didn’t want to be controlled.
He took a breath. “It’s difficult because I find it nearly impossible to describe something when there’s no emotion attached to it.”
“What do you mean?”
He paused and looked around the clearing. “Look at our surroundings right now, and think about how you would describe them.”
“A quiet forest glade at twilight.”
“You don’t realize it, but each of those words has an emotional resonance with you. Otherwise, you would have chosen different words.”
“Go on,” she said, not yet understanding.
“You didn’t describe it as a silent copse of trees at dusk because that doesn’t describe how this moment makes you feel.”
“All right. I’m beginning to understand. Words have an emotional resonance.”
“Life has emotional resonance. We use words to share that with each other.”
She sat up. “And when you are the ferromancer, you don’t… feel.” He told her as much before. “That makes it difficult for you to describe how it feels when I bring you back.”
“Exactly.”
“But you still remember.”
“I just don’t have the words. Nothing has meaning. Color loses its vibrancy. Taste and smell vanish entirely. Sound is just a stimulus.” He stopped again as if considering how to translate his experience.
“I think I get it,” she said, then continued, bringing him back to what she really wanted to know. “You’re in this emotionless place and then I tell you to be human. What happens?”
“I’m back.”
“Just like that?”
“Instantaneously. Sensation returns. I can feel again, and…”
“And,” she prompted.
“And you’re there, everywhere.”
“Me?”
“Your soul. You wrap me in it.”
“Like when Lock became armor for me?”
He seemed to consider that. “Sounds right. You do the same thing when you play for me, but this is more forceful.”
“Huh.” She didn’t know what else to say. So, she really was doing something to bring him back. But how did she control it and wield this… power at will?
“This isn’t helping, is it?” he asked.
“I react instinctively,” she admitted. “I keep hoping that if I could understand what I was doing, I could control it better, and truly help you.”
“Then why are you so obsessed with Esme’s journals?”
“Because there are no journals on how my magic works.”
“Then write your own.”
She wanted to laugh at the foolish statement but hesitated. “You’re serious.”
“Do you think Esme understood everything she wrote about? It was her way of exploring ideas. She would note what worked and what didn’t, and speculate on why. Eventually, she saw patterns.”
Briar sat up straighter. “That’s actually a good idea.” She looked over. “But I don’t want to reduce you to a lab experiment.”
“I would love to be your experiment—and not just because I hope to avoid devolving.” A hint of his usual humor had slipped into his tone.
She poked him with her elbow. “You’re a bad man, Mr. Martel.”
“I’m not exactly a man, Miss Rose.”
“Close enough.” She got to her feet. “Are you ready to return to the boat? I’d like to get started on that journal.”
He rose to his feet, chuckling softly. “Very well. I have some tarts I need to ice.”
“They have icing?” She slipped her hand in his.
“Well, it’s more of a glaze, but I know you’ll love them.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.
“Over-confident bastard.”
He laughed and the sound warmed her after all the coldness.
“Just wait until you taste one,” he said. “Then you can decide if my confidence is warranted.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Deal.”
Chapter 9
Once out of the trees, the light of the setting sun was considerably brighter. It made it easy to see the now-exposed transom of her boat as they approached. The Briar Rose was out of hiding.
Briar smiled, surprised by how much better the sight made her feel. Logically, it made no sense, but that was the nature of emotion.
The thought brought her and Grayson’s recent discussion to mind, and excitement tingled through her. She felt as if she was on the brink of a discovery, but she couldn’t quite grasp it.
“What is it?” Grayson asked. He’d either noted her expression, or picked up on some of her frustration.
“I feel like I’m on the verge of understanding, but then it slips away.”
He chuckled. “You’re the sort who picks at a knot until you manage to unravel it.”
“Or until I get the scissors out. I’m not the most patient person.”
“Considering that I’m your knot, that’s a bit disturbing.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “I’ll try to refrain from any drastic measures—for now.”
“Thank you.”
They crossed the gangplank and stepped down into the aft cargo hold.
“I was beginning to think I needed to come looking for you.” Kali sat along the edge of the boat, watching them.
“There was never any problem.” Briar turned to Perseus who sat a short distance away, sharpening one of his knives. “Thanks for taking care of the transom,” Briar said to him.
“It was no trouble, my lady.” He rose to his feet and walked over to Grayson, then offered him a small pouch. “Your tacks.”
Grayson accepted the pouch and thanked him.
Briar had a moment’s confusion until she remembered that Grayson had used soul iron tacks to hold the canvas in place. Unlike mundane iron, soul iron didn’t rust.
Eli ducked through the aft cabin door, catching sight of her as he straightened. “Captain, you’re back.”
“How’s the boat?” She walked over to him. “Any damage?”
“So far, it only seems to be superficial.” He watched Grayson step into the aft cabin, his expression between concern and disapproval. “How’s the ferromancer? Kali said he wandered off and you had to go fetch him.”
“You saw his back,” she whispered. “It troubles him, and he was taking a quiet moment of reflection. Nothing sinister, or even needing interference from me. I only went to collect him because Kali was upset that I didn’t have him on a tighter leash.”
Eli sighed. “I know you like him and don’t want to face what he can become—”
“I am facing it. Hourly. Don’t suggest I’m not.” She let some of her anger out.
“Don’t be mad, Miss Briar. I’m worried, too.”
She wanted to ask if he was worried for Grayson or about him. Instead, she nodded and changed the subject. Pulling the slip of paper from her pocket, she passed it to him. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”
“Perseus told me that the one responsible had the name of our boat on him.” He turned the scrap of paper in his hands before studying the single word. “Whoever wrote this isn’t very skilled with a pen.”
“Definitely not Andrew.” When they were children, Andrew had spent hours practicing his letters. He didn’t want anyone to know that he’d been educated on a canal boat.
“You still think your cousin has some connection to our troubles?” Eli asked. “How did Andrew know this man?”
Briar accepted the scrap of paper and returned it to her pocket. “I don’t know. The sawmill foreman said this Richard fellow had been cooling his heels in a Port Washington tavern. Maybe Andrew met him there.” An idea immediately followed. “I could ask around. See if a
nyone noticed a couple of finely dressed men talking to this guy.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“It might make us late for supper.”
“I’m sure Miss Molly will save us some.”
Briar studied him a moment, then nodded. “Let’s tell Jimmy where we’re going.”
Eli nodded. “Aye, Captain.” He tried to keep his expression serious, but a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. Like her, he was tired of sitting around and waiting for the next attack. It was time to take action.
Briar gripped the edge of the bar, trying—and failing—to hide her excitement. “You know Richard Haskins?” she repeated, though the bartender had already admitted as much.
“I wouldn’t call him a friend, but yeah, I know Rich. I know all the locals who spend their evenings in my tavern.” The bartender eyed her. “Who’s asking?”
“I am,” Eli said before she could answer.
“He owe you money, too?” the bartender asked.
“He owes me.” Eli leaned on the bar. “Have you seen him?”
The man straightened and took a step back. “Not this evening, and he cleared out early yesterday—which was odd.”
“How so?”
“He normally drinks himself into a stupor and has to be tossed out when we close.”
“Did you notice anything different yesterday?” Briar cut in. “Maybe he said something?”
“Not to me. He sat at the far table talking to a couple of strangers.” The bartender waved a hand toward the back of the room. Only a few of the tables were occupied, but it was still early.
“You’d never seen these men before?” Eli asked.
“We’re a small town, but a canal town. It’s not unusual to get folks in here I don’t know.”
“These strangers,” Briar spoke up, her heart beating faster with excitement. “Were they finely dressed? One with red hair and the other dark?”
The man behind the bar chuckled. “I don’t get finely dressed customers. Rather wish I did. They might pay their bill.”
Briar frowned. Andrew would never wear anything but the finest he could afford.
“What’d these guys look like?” Eli asked.