by Becca Andre
Thinking about Perseus reminded her that she’d yet to hear why he had tried to drown Grayson. She’d hoped that Grayson would give her the reason on his own, but he had yet to mention it.
“So what happened with Perseus? Why was he holding you underwater?”
Grayson didn’t answer immediately, watching the mules for a few moments instead. “He didn’t tell me in so many words,” Grayson began. “But I think he was trying to call me back by threatening my human side.”
“So, he was attempting to save you by trying to kill you?”
“It was the only alternative available. He couldn’t kiss me and bring me back.”
“Grayson.”
He flashed her a grin, but grew serious as he continued. “He knew I wouldn’t come back on my own. Darby nearly killed you with his snubbing post vandalism.”
The notion was flattering—in a somewhat twisted way. “I don’t need you to consume souls in my defense. Besides, isn’t that what Darby wants? To be made immortal?”
“He doesn’t want to be my soulless.” Grayson’s tone had turned cool.
She took his hand. “I appreciate the sentiment, but let it go. All right?”
“Fine,” he muttered, the word begrudging.
She laughed at him. “And don’t pout.”
“You take the fun out of everything.”
“Maybe I can make it up to you.”
He glanced over, his brows lifting. “Those mules know what they’re doing. How about you tie the reins to the towline and make it up to me now? Plenty of forest through here.”
She laughed, though her cheeks heated as she imagined taking his suggestion. “The mules aren’t that independent, and Eli would certainly notice.” He was steering the boat, after all.
“He’s probably not too thrilled about me holding your hand.”
“I took your hand,” Briar reminded him.
Grayson shrugged. “I doubt that makes any difference to him.”
She sighed, knowing he was right.
A jingle of tack made her look up, and she saw another mule team coming along the towpath toward them. She waved to Eli who immediately steered toward the opposite side of the canal, the heel path, to make room for the other boat. Canal etiquette gave the right of way to upstream boats over downstream boats, and loaded boats over empty boats. Since they were empty and headed downstream, they were the ones who had to pull to the heel side, sink their towline, and let the other boat pass over it.
Grayson assisted her with the mules, and they were out of the way when the other team and its ten-year-old driver drew even with them.
“Good day,” Grayson greeted the boy.
“Good afternoon,” the boy dipped his head, eyeing them with curiosity, perhaps catching Grayson’s accent.
“Might you have passed another downstream boat recently?” Briar asked. “The River Shark?”
“The steam-powered boat?” the boy asked, his eyes widening a little.
“That’s the one.” Briar fell in beside him as he continued along the towpath. “Remember where you saw it?”
“I don’t recall exactly, but it was after the locks at Adams Mills. Maybe near Conesville?”
“All right. Thanks.”
“You know ’em?” the boy asked, pausing as his team plodded on.
“Aye. They were testing steam power, and I was curious how they were getting on.”
“Pa said they were going way too fast. He said steam engines shouldn’t be allowed. It’ll erode the bank and cover the towpath in soot.”
“Can’t say as I’m fond of the idea, either,” she admitted. “I was rather hoping he’d break down.”
The boy offered a parting grin and, with a wave, hurried after his team.
She walked back to Grayson. “Darby’s still ahead of us, though he’s going faster and pulling away.” She kicked at a stone and sent it rolling into the canal. “He’s probably scheming to lay some new trap for us.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
She glanced over as he got the mules moving. “Certainly, he plans to sabotage us again.”
“He now knows what I am.”
“I figured he’d already puzzled that out. You did bind him to that chair in Massillon.”
“Judging by his reaction earlier, I suspect he thought that just some magic a ferromancer gave me.”
“Why would he think that?” she asked.
“He has not had the honest education you’ve had. I don’t believe Farran told him anything.”
She shook her head. “Andrew isn’t much better. He refuses to believe that my talent is the product of my ancestry and insists that my ability comes from you. Crazy, huh?”
“Not as crazy as it sounds. We can give humans some magic. Look at Zach.”
She hadn’t considered that. “You’re right. Why did it work that way for him?”
“It would work that way for any human—which is why most ferromancers cast the heart first.”
“Why does that make a difference?”
“No one knows for certain, but once the blood circulates through soul iron, any human magic they might have possessed vanishes.”
“Human magic?”
“It’s not ferromancy. Take Zach’s voice for example. No ferromancer has that ability. Not even the fully devolved.”
She thought of Farran and shivered. How much worse would it have been if he could do what Zach could? After all, his entire body had been made of soul iron.
“So humans are the only ones who get this magic? What of the Scourge?”
“The Scourge cannot be made soulless, remember? I speculate that their unique magic prevents it. They can dissolve soul iron and, it seems, resist its creation.”
“Huh.” She thought about that. “Then why was Perseus afraid of you taking me?”
“Because you don’t feel like Scourge. You feel human.”
“I guess I mostly am.” But her abilities were another flavor. “What of the ferra? When Farran thought I was one, he gave me this creepy speech about how my heart would be prized.”
Grayson got that uncomfortable look he always got when she asked something about his race he didn’t want to discuss. “The ferra have kept us contained for centuries, but there are stories.”
She glanced over. “Go on.”
“It’s supposed to be possible to cast the ferra, but it’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
He frowned.
“Why do I need to keep prompting you?”
“Because I don’t know if any of this is true,” he said with heat. “And I don’t want you to think less of me.”
“Why would I think less of you because of some ability you may or may not possess? I know the real you, and that’s the man I love, the man I’m fighting to save. And I don’t think I can do that unless you tell me all the facts.”
This time, he took her hand and a swell of affection washed over her. “Thank you,” he whispered. “But I don’t see how such darkness can help.”
“They say knowledge is power, and forewarned is forearmed.”
“Are you saying you consider all the facts before throwing a punch?”
“Depending how much whiskey is involved, usually.”
He laughed, and the genuine emotion warmed her. “You are something else, my Briar Rose.”
It was surprising how much that simple my pleased her, but she kept that to herself.
“So, back to the matter at hand,” she said. “How is it dangerous to make the ferra soulless?”
“As I understand it, the ferromancer gains her power.”
“Soul fire?”
He nodded. “But I’ve also heard stories that she gains his.”
“The ability to create the soulless,” Briar clarified.
“If they can’t?”
“Death or enslavement.”
Briar took a breath. “You’re right. That’s dark stuff.”
“Yes.” He didn’t comment further, and for several moments, they walked in silence.
She sighed. “I think you’re right. I don’t see how that knowledge is helpful.” She expected an I told you so, but he just shrugged.
“Shall we talk about something else?” he asked.
“Certainly. Like what?”
“What’s your earliest memory?”
That wasn’t a question she had anticipated and had to stop to think about it. “I’m not certain it’s the earliest, but I have this mental image of Uncle Charlie tucking me into bed. I think aboard the Briar Rose—he never lived anywhere else in my lifetime. I was upset and crying, and he was trying to cheer me by playing his banjo.”
“You don’t remember your parents?”
“My father looked a great deal like my uncle, so I could have some things mixed up, but I was only months old when my mother died.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Do you—” She stopped. “I don’t guess you knew your parents.”
“No. My father is long gone, of course.” He hesitated. “And I know nothing of my mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“The birth of a ferromancer is a day of mourning. Once the baby is old enough to survive the trip, he’s sent to a different ferra stronghold.”
“Why?”
“So his mother doesn’t have to watch him devolve and die.”
“Oh.” She had never stopped to think about that. “How… awful.”
“So, by ancestry, I’m probably not British.”
“Huh.” She glanced over at him. “Do you think your mother is still alive?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose.”
“If she were, would you want to see her?”
He didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Really? I’d want to meet my mother, if I had the opportunity.”
“My mother is ferra. I doubt she’d support the decisions I’ve made.”
“You think she’d have you locked up,” Briar concluded.
“Esme was very atypical for a ferra. The rest seem set on maintaining the old order of the way things are done.”
“Ah.” Briar was gradually coming to see how different Esme had been.
“What are you thinking?” Grayson asked.
“I’m thinking that your race is just so… sad. It breaks my heart.”
“A broken heart is of no significance in the ferromancer world. After all, hearts can be recast.”
She glanced over and caught his smile in profile. “And some ferromancers have a twisted sense of humor.”
His small smile became a full-blown grin.
The mood lightened, and they walked on, chatting about less personal things. Afternoon moved toward evening, and the miles passed as they walked along the towpath. They heard no more news of Darby, or met anyone who had passed him. There were no feeders or basins he could have used to escape notice, so perhaps he had switched to mule power to avoid drawing attention.
They made good time, though it helped that they didn’t encounter any locks until they reached Adams Mills. The small town had grown up around the flour mill and the three closely spaced locks.
While locking through the second lock, Grayson pointed out a familiar couple walking along the towpath toward them. Kali and Perseus had made good time as well.
“Oh good. They’re back,” Briar muttered, coiling up the towline. She would toss it back to the boat once the lock chamber had emptied.
“That was enthusiastic,” Grayson commented.
“It’s just what I need: more conflict.”
“Rather than letting her draw you into an argument, perhaps you should have an open conversation with her.”
“Or I could punch her.”
He took a breath and released it. “I know this will make you angry, but I’ve watched her spar. I don’t think you’d win that fight. Not without some training.”
Briar opened her mouth, but he continued before she could speak.
“You’d fare no better than I would against Perseus. In this case, you need to rely on your other strength.”
“And that is?” she demanded.
“Your ability to lead. Treat her as you would a member of your crew.”
“My crew are also my friends.”
“Exactly. She really needs a friend. From what I’ve gathered, she has been thrust into the ferromancer world rather abruptly, and she has absolutely no one except Perseus.”
“Who won’t connect with her because he can’t handle losing another person he cares about.”
Grayson nodded. “You need to take the high road, Captain.”
“In a boat?” She threw his line back at him and he smiled, but they could discuss the topic no further as Perseus and Kali joined them.
Briar steeled her resolve and faced them. “Welcome back. I wondered if you would be rejoining us.”
“Perseus doesn’t have the luxury to leave,” Kali snapped, “and I’m not going to abandon him to your whims. Besides, neither of us would go off and leave a drake on the loose.” She waved a hand at Grayson who merely smiled.
Briar pressed her lips together to hold in a sharp response. Taking a deep breath, she continued in a calmer voice. “I commend you for your sense of duty.”
Kali eyed her. “I figured you’d try to punch me after I revealed your dishonesty to your loyal crew.”
“I did not lie to them. I protected them. Solon’s threat might be an empty one, and even if it’s not, what could a human crew possibly do to stop a group of ferromancers?”
“Who said they had to stop them? Maybe they could just get their loved ones out of harm’s way.”
“Maybe,” Briar allowed. “But my crew wouldn’t abandon their community. Every one of them is a fighter. I know their temperaments. I was trying to protect them.”
“It wasn’t your decision to make.”
“Yes, it was. I’m their leader.”
“That is such bullshit,” Kali growled.
“I suppose I should be more like you,” Briar shot back. “Let me see how miserable I can make those around me. Perseus must be a damned saint to put up with you as long as he has.”
“My lady,” Perseus spoke up. “You are angry. You are both angry. All of us would fare better if this discussion were left for a calmer moment.”
Briar glanced over at Grayson, but he just lifted his brows, silently encouraging her to give it another try.
“You’re probably right,” Briar answered Perseus. “But I’d like to settle this now.” She turned to Kali. “Grayson needs to go assist Molly with the evening meal. Would you help me finish here and lock through the next?”
Kali frowned, but Perseus spoke before she could. “I’ll take our things aboard and help with the gates.”
They didn’t need any help, but Briar realized he was trying to leave them alone.
“I’m sure Jimmy would welcome the assistance,” Briar told him.
Kali’s expression moved from anger to suspicion, but she surprised Briar by remaining silent.
The men left them and for the next few minutes, they worked in silence.
Once the lock chamber was empty and the gates open, Briar tossed the towline to Jimmy who hooked it to the deadeye on the bow. Briar urged the mules forward and they were underway, heading toward the third and final lock twelve hundred feet ahead of them.
“Well?” Kali spoke up as they walked along. “Is there a reason you got me alone out here? I’ve ridden on this boat long enoug
h to know that driving the mules is a one woman job.”
“I don’t like being at odds with you,” Briar answered. “I thought we were getting on fairly well, until I was forced to take Perseus’s oath.”
“Forced?”
“Yes, forced.” Briar struggled to keep her temper. “It was nothing I wanted to do, but I needed Perseus’s help against Lucrezia, and he insisted the oath was the only way to keep him safe.”
Kali frowned, but directed it at the path ahead of them rather than Briar.
“Are you mad at me, or him?” Briar asked.
“Why would I be mad at him?”
“It was his idea.” Briar hurried on when Kali started to speak. “Come on, I know even less about the ferromancer world than you do. It seems Perseus has become a guide to both of us.”
“What about your ferromancer?”
“Grayson isn’t much more knowledgeable. He hasn’t truly been part of that world since he was eight. In a sense, Perseus is something of a mentor to him as well.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why is it stupid? Perseus’s half brother was a drake. If anyone could give Grayson some guidance, I think Perseus would be the one.”
Kali dropped into a moody silence once more.
Briar took a breath and decided to cut to the heart of the matter. “I know it upsets you that Perseus is so withdrawn.”
“What? Why would I care about that?”
“I asked him about it,” Briar continued, ignoring her statement. “He told me that he avoids close friendship because he can’t bear to lose another friend to death. I didn’t want to pry and ask how old he is, but judging by some of things he’s told me, I think it could be several centuries.”
“I think it’s longer than that,” Kali answered, the words soft.
Briar looked up, surprised the other woman had said something that wasn’t snide or caustic. “How old do you think he is?”
Kali glanced over before turning her gaze back to the towpath. “Just, older.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is how he’s changed since you took his oath.”
“What do you mean?”