by A R DeClerck
“As well as it can,” the engineer said. “You’re off to the back forty with the others?”
“Yes, we’re looking into Dooley and Del. There are other reasons for their sudden interest in Summer Ridge.”
“Strange happenings, I’ll admit.” Atraxas ran a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed. “I grew up with Del. He was never the kind to search for revenge.”
“On his own father, no less,” Corrigan agreed. “From what I heard the man doted on his son.”
“The only thing he ever loved, I’d bet.” Atraxas looked up as Machiavelli called his name. “I must return to work, that blasted bird is a slave driver.”
“Until tea, then.”
When the man was gone Corrigan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. What the devil was wrong with him? Trimble had proven himself a reliable ally against the demon horde, but now the very sight of him set Corrigan’s teeth on edge. If he were possessed by dark aether, surely Machiavelli would sense it. Corrigan shut down the Bo and tucked it away in his coat. He pulled on his hat and felt better with the familiar flaps over his ears. He heard the rattle of the horses on the cobbles and knew the carriage was coming ‘round. As he hurried downstairs the ache at the back of his neck was still thumping along to the beat of his heart.
“Do you think he’s all right?”
Archie looked down at Lucia and could not help but smile. “Look at you, worried for others when you’re weak as a kitten yourself.”
She glared at him and pulled the lap fur up to her waist. “Watch what you say, Sir Merriweather, or I’ll be forced to turn you into a toad.”
“Will you kiss me and turn me back into a prince?” He leaned forward to press a light kiss to her lips, and a blush rose over her cheeks. She didn’t look away, though, and a small smile curled over her lips.
“You were never a prince in the first place.”
“True.” He sat back as the captain hurried from the house. Lucia’s perceptions about the man were right, he thought as the captain climbed into the carriage. The man was pale, a certain stark panic hiding in his eyes. Archie knew the man well enough to know that he was rarely afraid, and even less inclined to the kind of terror that was swimming just beneath his surface. They did not speak again as the carriage took off, the horses throwing up snow from their hooves. He slid his hand under the throw and took Lucia’s, his thumb rubbing over hers.
She turned her troubled eyes to his and he knew that she worried for the captain as much as he did. Lucan and Icarus has warned them to keep close watch on everyone in their company, including their oldest friends. Something had happened to the captain, though he seemed to be as baffled by it as they. Perhaps, Archie thought as the carriage turned toward the back of the estate, he wasn’t even aware that it had happened; only that he now felt its sobering effects. He opened his mouth to question the man when the carriage suddenly careened hard to the right, throwing them all against the door.
“Blast it, man! What’s going on up there?” Archie called as the carriage righted itself. “Did we nearly hit a tree?”
The carriage had increased its speed, and Archie listened intently for the Romani man’s reply, but none came.
“I’ll climb up and see what’s happened,” Corrigan said, and Archie nodded. The lithe man clambered out the door and over the top of the carriage, and his curse carried down to them a moment later. “He’s been hit with some sort of dart. It appears he’s been knocked unconscious.”
“Are we under control?”
“I’ve got it. If I can drive a three hundred ton dirigible I can manage a carriage.”
“Slow us down, Captain,” Archie warned. “We’re liable to tip if we keep up this pace.”
Lucia leaned forward to look out the window, and she gasped. “We’d best slow quickly, there’s a ravine just ahead!”
“Captain! Full stop!” Archie called, pushing open the door and leaning out of the quickly moving carriage. He looked over the top toward the driver’s seat and saw the captain pulling back on the reigns as hard as he could. It did not seem to faze the horses, however, as they continued at a breakneck pace, headed directly for the tree-lined gorge less than five hundred meters ahead. The snow bit at his cheeks as they charged, full speed, toward the cliff’s edge.
“If you have any ideas, now would be the time!” the Captain called over the pounding of the horse’s hooves. “These beasts don’t seem to understand my language.”
“Cut them loose!” Lucia’s head appeared directly beneath Archie’s arm, her hair flying in the wind. “We can’t save the horses but the carriage should stop before the edge.”
“Blast!” Corrigan took his knife from his boot and sawed at the rigging that held the horses to the carriage. “This may take too long,” he yelled over the stomp of the horse’s hooves, “just jump!”
“We’re moving too fast. At best we’ll break our legs, and at worst our necks.” Archie pushed Lucia back toward the inside of the carriage. “Get in and huddle on the floor. Pull the lap rug around you as best you can to protect you from the jostle.”
“Jostle,” she scoffed, but she did as he said. He climbed over the top of the carriage to plop down next to Corrigan.
“Let me have a go,” he said, and he took hold of the reigns and began sawing on the rigging with his copper hand. “I don’t have much in the way of cutting tools, but this is better than nothing.”
Corrigan eyed the ravine as they approached it far too quickly. “I’m not sure it will matter at this point. You should have jumped.”
“Nonsense.” Archie grabbed hold of the weakened rigging and grunted as he pulled with mechanical hand in one direction and his human hand in the other. He could feel the tendons in his neck standing out but the leather began to snap between his hands. “Hold tight,” he told Corrigan, and the captain grabbed the unconscious Romani man and braced his feet on the rails of the carriage seat.
When the leather snapped the horses ran on but the front of the carriage dropped to the ground with a harsh snap. It slid over the snow-slicked grass and shook as if it might come apart at any moment. Archie felt his arse-end leave the seat and he grabbed hold of the frame of the carriage to keep from flying off.
“We’re headed directly for that tree!” Corrigan yelled, and Archie flinched as the side of the carriage smashed into the birch. It flung them about and Archie cursed as his hands slipped and he lost his perch on the top of the carriage.
He hit the ground hard, the breath leaving his lungs in a grand whoosh. He heard the frantic neighing of the horses as they plunged over the cliff, and the scream of their pain died away as they landed at the bottom of the gorge. He groaned and lifted his head as the world whirled around him, snow sticking to his eyelashes and obscuring his already blurry vision. He breathed out a breath of relief as he saw the carriage wedged tight against the tree, and Corrigan climbing down unharmed.
The door of the carriage burst open and Lucia jumped to the ground and ran toward him. He tried to wave her off as she knelt beside him, but she pushed his hands down and pulled his head into her lap.
“You fool,” she scolded angrily even as tears gathered in her eyes. She smoothed her hands over his face, and the cool press of her palms felt soft against the pain in his head. “You cannot fly, metal man.”
“Too heavy,” he mumbled in agreement. “Came right back down. Hard.”
“Yes,” her hands probed his skull as Corrigan knelt at his other side. “Very hard, it seems.”
“Will he be all right?” the Captain asked, his eyes wide with fear. “He flew at least ninety feet.”
“I’ll make him all right.”
“Driver?” Archie muttered.
“Dead before we hit the ground, I’m afraid.” The Captain cursed. “Fast acting poison on the dart.”
To Archie the world had become a kaleidoscope. Everything whirled and danced in colors, and sound was harder and harder to distinguish. “I think I have de
nted my brain pan,” he managed weakly, and Lucia laughed even as a tear splashed against his cheek.
“A skull fracture and a concussion.”
“Can you heal it?” Corrigan tugged on the flaps of his skullcap in an unconsciously nervous gesture.
“I can.” She pressed a kiss against Archie’s forehead and he smelled oranges in the seconds before he lost consciousness.
PLEASE, GOD, LET HIM live.
The words ran through Lucia’s mind repeatedly as she knelt in the snow next to Archimedes. The carriage had thrown him clear but he’d landed on his head. With precise touch she determined that his neck was not broken, but there was a breach in the bones of his skull that could kill him as quickly.
“What can I do?” Corrigan’s panic threatened to overwhelm her. The man was never more than unflappable, but now his eyes were wide and his face pale. His hands were shaking as he took hold of her arm. “Please. Tell me what to do.”
“Get the lap blanket from the carriage and cover him.” She breathed deeply when the man ran off. She needed to concentrate on healing and her mind was already on edge with the call of dark aether. “Don’t worry, love,” she whispered to Archie as she pressed the tips of her thumbs against his temples, “I’ll fix this.”
She did not look up when Corrigan returned to cover Archie with the fur.
“Creu ynof pwer I wella. Rhoi y gallu I atgyweirio yr hyn wedi cael ei thorri I mi.”
Create in me the power to heal. Grant me the ability to repair what has been broken.
Lucia could feel the aether resisting her call. She had not felt a push in a decade and a half.
“No!” she cried, holding back the tears as Archie’s breathing became more labored, his brain trying to hold on to the ability to make his lungs work as it swelled inside his skull. “No! You must listen. You must help me. He cannot die!” She cranked iron will down over fear, shuttering it behind steely determination to save his life. She closed her eyes, her thumbs pressed deep into the soft flesh of his temples.
You must help me save him, she demanded of the aether. She had never tried to speak to it this way, but Icarus and Cora had promised her that the aether was always listening, and could speak to those willing to listen. At this point, she was ready to do anything it said.
Why must we?
Because he is worth saving! He cannot die this way. I have to save him. Please.
He is of your heart?
I love him, yes.
You have been infected by dark aether.
Not by my own choice. Not this time.
Once you destroyed us for power, and you redeemed yourself. Can you redeem yourself now?
I’ll do anything, she promised. Help me save him.
When the time is right we will call upon you to remember this moment. Remember what we have done to aid you when you called. Remember our forgiveness.
Anything.
Very well. We will aid you as we once did. Do not forget this, Apothecary. You and your metal one will be asked to sacrifice much in the fight that is to come. But where there is sacrifice there is also reward.
Lucia felt the aether begin to gather beneath her palms as it once had. It hummed against her skin and built warmth. She channeled with her thoughts, sending it through her fingertips and into Archie’s body, bidding it to repair all that had been broken and bruised.
There were curious paths in life. Some that twisted and turned and others that disappeared into fog shrouded darkness when you caught them from the corner of your eye. As the aether worked through Lucia she saw a path stretched out before her that she had never before anticipated. It was opened wide, winding and long but it ended where this man began. He was the destination.
“Is it done?” Corrigan asked in a whisper when she sat back on her heels. She was exhausted, but it was a good feeling. Not the drain of the need for dark aether that twisted her gut and buzzed under her skin. The kind of tired that meant long days doing good work. She nodded.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” the Captain told her with awe in his voice. “Even when Icarus used his rune to open the way for the aether it never swarmed and swelled to him like that.”
“It will exact a heavy price for its help, I’m sure.” She smoothed the dark hair back from Archie’s face. “But it will be worth it.”
“I thought wizards could use aether without restriction? At least, to the best of their abilities to contact it.”
She smiled. “Aether is a living being, Captain. Something we did not understand and most still do not care to contemplate. As ancient as the world, or older, and created by some race of people long gone from the universe. They were treated cruelly by their creators, and when that race died out they vowed they would never be used like that again.”
“They built the barrier between their world and ours, and can only act on our world through a wizard or wizardess.”
“Yes.” She took Archie’s hand in hers, too tired to try to move him. “They choose what they do, and when, though we never realized it before. Why some could do great things with magic and others could not warm their tea. And when it suits them they make us pay for their help.”
“And dark aether? Blood magic? I know it forces the aether to do terrible things....”
“The aether has three rules. They do not kill. They do not interfere with our knowledge in ways that will impact our evolution. They do not alter the future or change the past. However, a blood spell enacted by a powerful mage can force the aether to break those rules. It corrupts the aether, and the others destroy the corrupted ones before the corruption can spread. That is why a blood spell does not last, and requires constant attention of the mage.”
“You...” Corrigan turned his head away, and Lucia knew his question before he asked it.
“Yes. Once, when I was a girl, I was infatuated with a man who performed blood magic. I liked the power and the freedom. I helped him do horrible things because I thought I loved him.”
She bent over Archie, counting his even breaths and the steady tick of his clockwork. “In truth, I had no idea what real love is.”
“You saved his life.”
“He saved mine first, all those years ago. Picked me up from the mud and risked his own life to save mine.”
“I admire you both.” The captain touched Archie’s chest gently. “Do you think he’ll wake soon? It’s getting colder.”
“Soon.” She shivered as Corrigan’s words reminded her that she was kneeling on the frozen ground as snow fell thickly around them. “I can call Machiavelli.”
“No need.” The Captain stood as the steady clomp of horse’s hooves met their ears. “Someone approaches.”
She moved closer to Archie, ready to protect him if she had to. The Captain’s hand patted his coat where his Bo staff sat in his pocket. He held out his hand to her in warning to stay quiet as the shadow of an old wagon came through the curtain of snow.
“Who goes there? Did ye have an accident?” The voice was gravelly and low, belonging to an older man. The wagon approached slowly, pulled by a broken down mare well past her prime.
“We’re guests of Mrs. Wicket. Our carriage had an accident and our companion was injured.” Corrigan kept his voice light, but Lucia could see the tension in his shoulders. He stepped to the left and obstructed the man’s view of both her and Archie.
“Well, then, that’s a shame. Widow Wicket will be sore to lose her favorite carriage I reckon.” The man jumped down from the wagon and tugged his ragged coat closed over his heavy belly. “Name’s Bessemer.”
“Are you one of the tenant farmers?”
“A’yup, my place is ‘bout a quarter mile in yonder direction. If you wanna load up yer injured fella I can offer a warm fire and a pot of beans.”
“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Lucia spoke up from behind Corrigan. She pushed on his legs until he moved to the right and brought the old farmer into her view. “We’ll need some help loading him into the wa
gon.”
“Blast and damnation!” the old man swore, making the sign of the cross over his chest as his eyes widened. “An adept wizardess.”
“If you please, Mr. Bessemer. My friend is in need of a warm bed in which to recover.” Lucia raised an eyebrow when the man did not move. “Is there a problem, sir?”
“I heard tell Widow Wicket called on the High Coven; I just didn’t know they would send Adepts.”
“You didn’t see the demons attacking the manor house last night, then?”
The man’s whiskered face paled. He made the sign of the cross again. “Demons, miss?”
“Let’s discuss this inside then, Mr. Bessemer.” Corrigan pointed to Archie’s feet as he bent to lift under Archie’s shoulders. The older man grunted but carried the weight with ease and they slid Archie carefully into the wagon bed. Lucia stopped to pat the old gray mare’s nose.
“That’s Cosy, miss. My oldest companion, she is.”
“A lovely horse, Mr. Bessemer.”
“Well, if’n she didn’t bite off yer hand then yer a trustworthy gel I s’pose.”
Lucia smiled and took Corrigan’s hand as he helped her climb into the wagon next to Archie. He tossed up the lap rug and she pulled it over them both. The captain climbed into the wagon seat with the old farmer and Bessemer snapped the reigns. Cosy moved slowly but smoothly, heading across the snowy field toward a thin column of smoke that must have climbed from the old man’s chimney.
Archie stirred and Lucia touched his cheek. His eyelids fluttered and he moaned.
“Shh,” she whispered, coming her fingers through his hair in the way she knew he liked. “Rest.”
“I heard you,” he said thickly.
“Heard me?”
His hand reached for hers, and she was surprised when it was his metal fingers that closed over hers. “I heard what you said to the aether.”
“I wasn’t lying. I’d do anything to save you.”
“No.” He pulled her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. He blinked hard to stay awake. “Saw it, too.”