by Devon Monk
Cedar caught her hand and her elbow.
“Oh,” she said, a breath of relief shuddering out of her. “Mr. Hunt. There you are. Could you show me to the door, please?”
“Right this way.” Cedar gave Molly a look and she nodded.
“I’ll wait until you’re back to help with Miss Small.”
Cedar took two steps and Mae followed like a woman suddenly gone blind, her steps hesitant even though there was nothing in her path.
“There now, you’re doing fine,” Cedar said softly.
“That helps,” Mae said, keeping her chin up.
“What helps?”
“Your voice. I can hear you. As if you’re right here next to me.”
Cedar winced at that, but kept his tone calm. “I am next to you, Mrs. Lindson. Right here. And we’re near across the floor of the airship on our way to a wagon and a dry bed. Heard there might be a hot bath at the end of it all, if that pleases you.”
“A hot bath.” Mae actually smiled. “I can’t think of anything more lovely at the moment. Thank you, Mr. Hunt.”
“Haven’t drawn the bath yet,” Cedar said. “Might want to hold off on your gratitude until we see if the tub leaks.”
“I wasn’t thanking you for the bath.” With what seemed to be a great effort, she tipped her head up and met his gaze. “I was thanking you for not losing me.”
“Losing you?”
“To the…all the chaos. I would have understood if you simply left me. I haven’t been much benefit, haven’t been…well.”
He nodded. “We all have times when we aren’t…ourselves. No need to worry, Mrs. Lindson.”
“Mae,” she said.
“Pardon?”
“Please. Call me Mae.”
It might be the slide from sanity, or that she was having a rare clear moment. But Mae reached up and brushed her fingers gently down the side of his face. “Always so grim, Mr. Hunt. I’d like to see the day there’s joy in your eyes again.”
They were at the door now, and the wind caught at the tendrils of hair around her delicate face. Cedar swallowed hard against the rise of need in his chest. Swallowed again so he could speak.
“And in yours, Mrs.—Mae,” he said. “Now, let’s see to that wagon.”
“Who?” she asked, searching his face. “I said I’m coming,” she added in a whisper.
Her eyes were unfocused again, the voices of the sisters taking her mind away.
It was like watching the clouds smother the light out of the sky.
He hated it. Hated what the sisters were doing to her. Chipping her away and hollowing her out. If they didn’t get to the coven so those witches could break this spell on her soon, there’d be nothing of her left.
“This way,” he said, not knowing if she could hear him.
They stepped out of the ship to the muler. It was a much more modern matic than Cedar had expected. Even in the poor bit of light splashing over it from the lanterns, he could see it was a sleek buggy in the front, with a wagon bed attached at the back. The wagon bed was canopied by oilskin buttoned down on three of the four sides, leaving only the back open.
If he had to put a guess to it, he’d say it hauled heavy but delicate materials, though for the life of him, he didn’t know what those might be out this far from any civilized place. Maybe nitroglycerin for Old Jack’s blasting habit.
Guffin and Captain Hink waited near the front buggy, Hink’s eyes on the door to the Swift.
Guffin slipped into the buggy’s seat and Captain Hink came around the back of the wagon to help Cedar get Mae settled under the canopy. A lantern hung from the ceiling inside the wagon, the light revealing a bench along one side, and a cot along the other. The floor was smooth, and covered in a clean canvas that smelled surprisingly of herbs, as if it had been boiled in chamomile.
“I’ll stay with her,” Captain Hink said, “if you want to help Molly with Miss Small.”
Mae sat on the bench, her eyes closed, her hands folded in her lap. She was in no state to look out for herself. Cedar hesitated.
“Go on ahead,” he said to the captain. Wil would be there beside Rose. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Captain Hink studied his face for a moment, then nodded. Cedar didn’t know if the captain thought he didn’t trust him with Mae or did trust him with Rose.
“Miss Small,” Captain Hink started. “She’s…well, I want you to know you can trust—”
The rumble of engines rolled over the thrashing of the wind.
An airship. Close enough it must be landing.
“God blast it,” Hink muttered.
“More trouble?” Cedar asked.
“Maybe not. But the way my luck’s been running?” He plowed off to the Swift and it wasn’t but a moment later that he and Molly appeared in the door, Wil a shadow skulking behind them.
Cedar had expected the captain and Molly would be helping Rose walk. But instead, Captain Hink had picked her up in his arms and was carrying her, wrapped in her blanket, his own coat draped over that to keep the worst of the rain off her.
Molly walked next to him, a duffel slung over her shoulder, her tool belt bulky beneath her long coat.
Cedar helped Hink ease Rose into the wagon and up onto the cot. Molly slipped in next and tucked a rolled-up blanket under Rose’s shoulder.
The captain knelt at the back of the wagon, frowning at the women. Cedar knew he was listening to the fans of the airship, to try to get a read on which bird it was.
“Let’s go,” Cedar said.
Captain Hink nodded. “I’ll sit the controls with Guffin.” He swung out of the wagon, and a moment later, the muler’s engine puffed up and started rolling.
The buggy shook a bit at first, then it seemed to glide. Cedar hadn’t seen a smooth trail in the rocky outcropping. And he hadn’t seen rails. But the way the buggy was rigged up made for much easier travel than he’d expected.
Mae didn’t say a thing throughout the ride, and Rose only whimpered now and again when a particularly hard bump jostled her.
The sound of the wind died down and then even the clattering of raindrops on the oilskin stopped. There were no windows in the buggy, but they’d gone under cover.
“Where are we now?” Cedar asked.
“In the muler shed next to our accommodations,” Molly said.
“Do we all stay in one room?” he said.
“Of course. There’s privacy and there’s privacy, Mr. Hunt,” Molly said. “But in these catacombs, we’ll want to stay in eyeshot of each other. Person can get lost in Old Jack’s place. Get killed too. By taking the wrong turn in the tunnels, or forgetting to add an extra copper to whatever it is Jack’s selling.”
“Are there other guests here?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t see any ships except for the one coming in.”
“Can you tell which ship it is?”
Molly rubbed at the short crop of hair above her ears, smoothing back the stubble there, her eyes tight at the corner as if she were squinting to read a distant sign. “Might be the Constant, or the Dawn Breaker.” She listened for a moment more. “But I don’t think so.”
The buggy rolled to a stop and the hiss of steam being vented filled the air.
“This is our stop,” Molly said.
Cedar opened the buggy door and helped lead Mae out.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Good,” Cedar said. “We’re headed to our room for the night.” He held her hand as they walked out into the unremarkable and dimly lit cavern that housed two more mulers, both silent and cold.
Mr. Seldom was across the way a bit. He leaned in a doorway. Bright yellow light spilled past him to orange up his hair and paint his shadow on the rough floor.
Cedar and Mae headed that way, walking through the door past Seldom, who gave them a nod before they stepped into the room beyond.
Bigger than a barn, it really was a hollowed-out hole in the stones. Stone ceiling, walls, floor al
l worked smooth and painted in whitewash, with lights set up and about in such a way as to make the place look comfortable. A fire crackled away in a carved hearth, so well vented he didn’t even smell the ash or smoke. A stack of supplies, hooks with pots, and a hand pump with a bucket and a large washtub all took up that side of the room.
The main of the room was set with tables and chairs and, surprisingly, a shelf with a few books and map tubes piled on it.
He didn’t know if there were sleeping rooms, but there was plenty of floor space to put out a bedroll.
“Just a little farther and we’ll have that dry bed,” he told Mae.
“Cedar,” Mae said. “Mr. Hunt?” She squeezed his hand.
Cedar looked down at her.
Mae’s eyes were bright. Clear. Her cheeks were flushed as if she’d just woken too quickly from a deep dream.
“I’m fine. Truly. It’s much…quieter here.” She looked around, taking in her surroundings, then took in a good deep breath.
“Maybe it’s the stone,” she said. “I’m feeling much more myself. Let me help. Where’s Rose?”
“In the buggy,” Cedar said, a little stunned by her complete turnaround. “Are you sure?”
Mae smiled, an aching hint of happiness before sadness, or perhaps fear, took it away again. “I think we should embrace our luck as it comes, Mr. Hunt. And right now I am…feeling much better. Are there medical supplies at our disposal?”
“We’ll have to ask the captain about that.”
“Ask the captain about what?” Hink asked as he strode into the room, his hat in one hand so he could shake the rain off it.
Molly and Seldom had found a litter from someplace and gotten Rose upon it. They were carrying her across the room, Wil walking at her side, his ears up, nose working the scents in the room. He stared at Cedar, and then followed Rose as Molly and Seldom took her through a doorway on the far side of the room.
“Where are they taking her?” Cedar asked.
The captain put his hat under his arm and opened his satchel. He dug out his flask, took a swig from it, then walked it over to Cedar. “Beds back that way. Enough bunks for us all.” He handed Cedar the flask, and Cedar took a long swallow.
It was good bourbon.
“Do we have medical supplies, Captain?” Mae asked.
Hink’s eyebrows shot up and he looked from Cedar to Mae, then took another pull on the flask.
“We will,” he said. “As soon as I pry them out of Old Jack’s greedy fingers. What exactly do you think you’ll need, Mrs. Lindson?”
Mae glanced off the way Rose had been taken. “I’ll need to see her first. But something to take the pain. It’d be best if it didn’t knock her completely out. Am I to assume we have only a modicum of safety here, and that we will be leaving as soon as possible?”
“That’s about the gist of it,” Hink said. “I’m pleased to see you’re feeling better, Mrs. Lindson.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she said. “Let me check on Miss Small. Then perhaps I could accompany you to speak with Mr. Jack about medicine?”
Hink shot Cedar a quick look and Cedar nodded. “Of course,” the captain said. “Rather not pay for something we’d throw away.”
“Very well. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Mae headed across the room, steady on her feet, and as near as Cedar could tell, clearheaded.
“Isn’t that something?” Hink said. “Or maybe it’s not. She come and go like that a lot?”
The captain pulled out a chair and folded down into it with a grateful grunt.
“She’s usually very clear,” Cedar said. “Days have been hard lately.”
“Ain’t they always?” Hink took one last drink from the flask, then tucked it back into his coat.
“Molly didn’t recognize the ship,” Cedar said.
“Seldom’s putting his eyes on it. We’ll know soon.”
“Bad kind of hole to die in,” Cedar noted.
“Haven’t yet met a hole I wanted to die in,” Hink agreed. “Ansell’s putting fuel on board before he beds down. Coal. And he has the barrels out to catch the rain. If we need to crack the sky, we’ll have power.”
“Will the ship hold together for flight?”
“Not far. And this is the last friendly, well, relatively so, resupply station that has what we’d need for repairs. If you want to get those women to Kansas, we’ll need the day, maybe two.”
“I don’t know that Rose has that long.”
Hink looked up at Cedar. The captain’s eyes were sober, tired. None of them had snatched more than a handful of sleep. And the captain looked like he’d been riding too hard for too long well before they’d fallen in together.
Cedar lowered his voice. “There is some chance the Holder would heal her, set her to rights.”
“I’ll get her medicines,” Captain Hink said, “which you’ll pay me for. We’ll patch the Swift. If you have some clue as to where the…device…,” he said, avoiding using the word “Holder,” “is, then I’ll take you to it. But there just isn’t any more I can do at this point, Mr. Hunt. Picking up you and yours has put me behind, shot holes in my ship, and made a general mess of the life and dealings of both myself and my crew.”
“Our paths could part here,” Cedar said. “We’re grateful for your help out of Vicinity, and for putting us down to earth again. But there isn’t any reason we must continue on together.”
“Other than you owe me for those things.” Captain Hink leaned forward. “We had a deal, Mr. Hunt. And I’d be sorry to see what would happen if you stepped back on it.”
Mr. Seldom strolled into the room, his hard-soled boots somehow silent on the stone floor.
“So who’s our company, Mr. Seldom?” Hink asked.
“Coin de Paradis,” he said.
“Heard of them?” Hink asked.
He shook his head. “Northern from the look of her. French, from the sound.”
“How northern?” Cedar asked.
Seldom shrugged. “Pacific-rigged. Sleds for ice.”
“So she can ride the sea and the mountains,” Hink said. “Must be a regular delivery barge to Old Jack.”
“You don’t think she’s a glim ship?” Cedar asked.
“Not in a specific way,” Hink said. “Glim ship’s not going to be rigged to take the storms over the ocean, and won’t much care about landing in snow since pulling harvest in the brace of winter is just a quick way to catch a bad case of dead.”
He continued. “There ain’t a ship out there that would take the cold upper with the weight of extra equipment. So if she’s rigged Pacific and ice, she’s bringing supplies over and through on those conditions. I’d wager she’s come down from Fort Vancouver at least. Maybe up the Alaska territory. Old Jack has a hunger for things only got from exotic shores.”
“How many in the crew?” Cedar asked.
“Ten or less,” Seldom said.
“They tied down yet?” Hink asked.
Seldom shook his head. “Lashing on the south pad.”
“In that case, find us all some food, won’t you, Seldom? Something hot with meat in it.”
Seldom walked off out another door that must have been a larder and came back with a pot, which he set on a hook over the fire, and a pan he set to the side. Then he was gone again and back with supplies wrapped in brown paper and canvas.
He pulled his knife and got busy working up some food.
“Been here a time or two,” Cedar noted with a nod toward Seldom, who was moving around the kitchen like he grew up here.
“Sat out the tail end of winter a season or two back,” the captain said. “Us and four other crews. Got to know our way around the living quarters, but not much more. The tunnels Jack blasts in these mountains don’t have a map, except for whatever he keeps in his noggin. And every blast does as much to close down a tunnel as open another.
“Don’t go wandering off, Mr. Hunt. And for glim’s sake, don’t let Mae or Rose or that wolf
of yours get out of eyesight.”
The scuff of approaching footsteps and low murmur of voices put a change in Captain Hink.
He gave Cedar one last nod, then leaned back, shifting his wide shoulders so one arm slung over the back of the chair, flask open in his hand. He smiled, and looked just a little drunk.
Which he most certainly was not.
Cedar eased back, but made no attempt to hide his manner. Friend or foe, he’d deal with it squarely.
Eight people walked into the room. Two women, one slender and tall as the men around her, wearing a proper skirt and corset, an umbrella clasped in her kid-gloved hand, the other shorter by at least a foot, uncovered hair hanging in two yellow braids, skirt split for riding. A lady and her maid? What were they doing all this way out in the hills? On an airship?
He scanned the men, looking to see if there was a husband or a father in the mix.
They were scanning him back. Four of the men had on gear that resembled the coats, vests, and harnesses Hink and his crew wore around as easy as tuckers and suspenders.
Cedar would count them as crew to the ship.
The man with the wild brown curls and impressive handlebar mustache might be the captain, and the other man, a quiet-looking fellow wearing a wool check suit, a bowler hat and sporting a carpetbag in one hand, didn’t quite fit in with Cedar’s notion of a crew. Maybe a passenger. Maybe a salesman.
“You must be Captain Hink.” The mustachioed man strolled across the room toward Hink with an easy roll to his gait and surveyed the place like he was inspecting a crop ripe for the picking.
“Oh, I’d say ‘must’ is a rather strong word, Captain.… Have we made acquaintance?” Hink didn’t stand. He just peered up at the man, who stopped next to their table.
“I’ve seen your ship,” the man said. “The Swift. Not a faster ship in the sky, nor a sharper man behind the wheel, they say. I am Captain Beaumont of the Coin de Paradis.”
“Pleased to make your meet,” Hink said, offering a hand but not budging from his chair. “Supply run?”
“Just so. I’m afraid I miscalculated the storm. And you?”
“Repairs mostly. Headed southwest to sit out the winter.”