Legends of Havenwood Falls Volume One

by Tish Thawer

  I reached in with a short pair of tongs and grasped the first of the vessels. I held up a small cylinder and frowned at the coloration. The webwork of copper we’d used to frame everything out had held up fairly well, but as it melted, it created something that almost looked more like Damascus steel than the uniform coloration of the vessels we’d crafted by hand.

  “It looks good,” I said. “It should be functional. But give it a few more minutes to cool down, and we can try it in one of the wards.”

  “So soon?” Theodore asked.

  “Yes. I doubt that aether would be affected very much by letting it cool down more. If it wasn’t destroyed in the mold, it should be working.”

  “Let me see it,” Betsy said.

  I held the tongs out to her, but instead of taking them from me, she plucked the vessel off the end before I could so much as shout a warning about the heat.

  I blinked at her.

  She rubbed at the gray and copper cylinder.

  “Wow,” I said, watching as she cleared the soot and remnants away. Beneath was a brilliantly polished core.

  “I can still sense the aether,” she said. “But it is odd. I sense it as if it is a blankness. As if it has dulled my senses. I don’t know if I will ever grow accustomed to that sensation.”

  I frowned. “I don’t want these wards to affect you. I want them to affect the Unseelie. Are you sure you’ll be okay when we activate this web of wards?”

  Betsy nodded. “The aether in this vessel has no purpose. The wards give it purpose. My family has used wards similar to those for many years. We will be safe.”

  “One day you’re going to tell us how many years,” Charlotte said, crossing her arms.

  Betsy gave her a small smile before holding the vessel back out to me.

  “Is it safe to touch?”

  “What he means,” Charlotte said, “is it safe for him to touch?”

  Betsy released a small laugh and nodded.

  I took the vessel from her outstretched hand and felt the warmth rising in my palm. It was not too hot, and the temperature evened out just before it reached uncomfortable levels.

  Charlotte stepped closer and studied the vessel in my hand. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I didn’t expect that,” I said.

  “Get the gun,” she said, looking into my eyes.

  I nodded. “Theodore, it’s time for us to test this.”

  “Finally!” Theodore said, hurrying into the shop.

  “I only hope we won’t need to use it,” I said.

  Betsy took a deep breath. “That is a noble thought. But Driscoll is fond of threes. He will not come alone.”

  Chapter 13

  The heavy clank from inside the workshop told me Theodore had opened one of the safes. It was an odd thing to work on something for so long without testing it.

  “We came here to escape this life,” Charlotte said.

  I grimaced and took the oak case from Theodore. “No rest for the wicked.”

  I set the case on the workbench near the forge and threw the latch to open it. The hinges were whisper quiet, and they gave up their contents without protest. Inside was a nest of leather and velvet and steel.

  An oddly shaped gun waited in the beautiful case Charlotte had made for it. Of all the things I’d thought to do with the aether, I must confess, I didn’t expect it to be crafted into a weapon.

  “Pirate stories again?” Theodore asked.

  “I don’t believe that was a story,” Betsy said. “There is much truth in Gregory’s words, and Charlotte’s.”

  I ran my finger down the bronze inlays on the side of the pistol. At first glance, one might think it was just a contemporary revolver, but it was far more than that. I slid the polished cylinder out and frowned at the single hole drilled inside it.

  “Pass me the vessel,” I said. I knew I’d been lucky to only lose one still since we discovered the aether. Theodore’s mistake was one that I’d made myself, unaware of the power hidden in those waters. I hadn’t told him just how lucky he was. And now we were casting the stuff in fire and metal.

  Theodore sanded off the last vestige of the mold we used to cast the new vessel. I took it from him gently and slid it into the cylinder before closing the gun.

  Betsy cursed when the small glass window on the top of the barrel began to glow, dim at first, but increasing until it became as bright as one of the lanterns the townsfolk would carry at night.

  “Not particularly stealthy,” Charlotte said.

  “It doesn’t need to be,” I said. “It only needs to kill a fae.”

  “You’re telling me you were pirates?” Theodore asked.

  I placed my thumb in an indentation beneath the barrel and drew it back slowly. About the time the movement reached the cylinder, a satisfying click sounded.

  “There aren’t real pirates anymore,” I said. “They’re dead or imprisoned.”

  “We’re just shopkeepers and moonshiners now,” Charlotte said.

  Theodore narrowed his eyes.

  “They’ve killed fae before,” Betsy said.

  “And we’ll kill them again,” I said, leveling the pistol at a thick area of scrub brush. I moved my finger to the trigger and let the hammer drop. A narrow beam of light rocketed out of the end of the gun, leaving no recoil in my hand but a strange feeling in my heart as I stared at the smoking ruin of the bush.

  “Shit,” I muttered, frowning at the weapon in my hand. I crouched and studied the bush. The damage that beam had done to the wood was terrifying. It had cut a hole clean through it. The aether gun wasn’t something I’d want in an enemy’s hands.

  Charlotte rubbed at her ear. “Not as loud as a pistol, but that whine was one strange sound.”

  “I think the more important fact,” I said, “is that we’re not all dead.”

  Betsy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Humans. It’s a wonder you live as long as you do.”

  “Do you have any weapons?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “Half human, so only half an idiot.”

  Charlotte grinned at Betsy while Theodore awkwardly shuffled his feet.

  “Still coming to terms with this whole thing?” Charlotte asked.

  “It’s fine,” Theodore said. “She’s just never been this open about it with other people. It’s . . . odd.”

  “I get it,” I said. “It’s a big secret that only the two of you have known as long as you’ve been together. And now we know. It changes things.”

  “It changes nothing,” Betsy said. “I will be with Theodore as long as he needs me, or until he dies. It is as simple as that.”

  “I felt much the same way about a cat I once had,” I said.

  Theodore’s anxiousness fractured into a smile. “Shut up, old man.”

  “Get your armor, your shotgun, and whatever iron-rich blades you have laying around.”

  “Here we go,” Charlotte said. “Now he’s going to say we’re going to stop Driscoll here or die trying.”

  I blinked. “That’s absolutely not what I was going to say.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Dammit, woman,” I grumbled.

  “Told you,” Charlotte said, turning to Theodore. “Get your supplies. We have to hurry.”

  “We must seal the last two wards before Driscoll can destroy the mounts,” Betsy said. “If he saw what you’ve done at the conservatory, he may now know what he’s looking for.”

  “Then like Charlotte said,” I said, “hurry.”

  I studied the holster that Charlotte had strapped to her waist. The aether gun fit neatly into the old cracked leather. I smiled at her.

  Charlotte pulled a thin shawl over her shoulders. It hung low enough to conceal the guns, but it still left her vambrace exposed. Normally I’d consider that an issue, but today it could mean the difference between life and death.

  The thought of the sleeve or some other piece of clothing getting caught on that vambrace and slowing down one of the iron
bolts that weapon could throw was sobering at best. It was always good to think positive before battle, but I’d never been able to convince my brain to do that. I always thought of what could go wrong, what we could plan for, and what we could fall back on.

  That paranoia may have been why we were still around. We’d spent time at sea, as what some would call pirates, and Charlotte and I had survived more than one battle. Engagements at sea were different. You were less likely to be surrounded, and it was easier to tell where your enemies were headed. Chances were, they were either trying to sink your ship, or board it and take it.

  But now we were in a town. Surrounded by wilderness on all sides. Many different people had come here for various reasons. But that wasn’t my real concern. On land, it was harder to find your enemies’ target, unless you yourself were that target. We suspected Driscoll was trying to stop our placement of the wards. But we didn’t know for sure.

  But if we were right, that could mean one of Betsy’s friends, or even her fae family, could have let slip the nature of our work. But what if it wasn’t someone from her family? What if it was someone who was already seated in the Court of the Sun and the Moon?

  “Bishop,” I said, turning to Betsy as she came back down the stairs with Theodore. “Did you tell Bishop?”

  “About Driscoll?” Betsy asked. “No.”

  I frowned and looked away. “How else could Bishop know? Who else would’ve told him?”

  “That’s neither here nor there,” Charlotte said. “Stop your worrying and straighten your back.”

  I pulled my vest closed and double checked the clasps on my vambrace. As I had the harmonica pistol, I kept the shield cartridge loaded on my wrist. Charlotte opted for the bolt thrower, but she was always more mindful of offense than defense.

  Once I was satisfied I had everything locked down, and had dropped the remaining vessels into the pouch at my waist, I made for the back door. “Let’s get this done.”

  We walked out of the back of the shop, the entire time Betsy’s warning about Driscoll preferring threes echoing in my mind. I led the group south to Main Street. It had been a long day, and I doubted we would have sunlight for more than a couple more hours.

  The streets were busier now, both with workers hammering away in some of the newer buildings and those local residents who had been here since the town was founded not so long ago. We headed east, along the same road that would take us to the inn, only that wasn’t our destination that evening.

  Or at least not our first destination.

  One thing every town needed was a saloon, and our small town hidden in the wilderness of the Colorado territory was no different. People liked to joke that the saloon was the first building to go up when the settlement first started, but it wasn’t really a joke. It literally had been one of the first buildings to be erected.

  It was also where we met the first of our opposition.

  Chapter 14

  “Tinker,” the slender face said as its owner stepped off the wooden deck and onto the gravel street. “We have business.”

  “He’s my business,” Betsy said. “If you take issue with that, you can speak with the Court.”

  The newcomer bared his teeth, contorting his face into a rictus grin that looked anything but human.

  “Gregory and Charlotte Trent,” the faerie said. “You carry with you a power that does not belong to humans.”

  “It’s distilled from the power of witches,” Charlotte said. “It is the very power of humans.”

  The fae curled his lip and looked down at Charlotte. He stood close to a foot taller than my wife, and nearly that much taller than me, but Charlotte didn’t back down. She stared the fae down as her fingers traced the outline of her vambrace.

  “Your reputation precedes you,” he said with a small inclination of his head. “I am Cathal, brother to Driscoll and seeker of stolen magicks.”

  “It’s my right to protect my home,” I said. “It’s every one of our rights. Now step aside.”

  “You are a fool,” Cathal said with a humorless laugh. “You do not sail upon a galleon in the seas to the south. You are not armed with mighty iron cannons, loaded and prepared to do battle with the morgens. What hope have you?”

  “Theodore, take him,” I said.

  “No!” Betsy said. Whether she’d meant to issue a warning, or something else, it came too late.

  The weapon Theodore wielded looked like a crossbow to those not familiar with it. It worked much the same, but it had the ability to fire three bolts at once. Hit a man in the chest with that, and he’d rarely get back up. Hit a fae in the chest with three iron bolts, and he’d die screaming.

  Cathal barely raised his right arm, causing the fabric of his sleeve to billow out and catch the iron bolts. In one violent motion, he snapped his arm downward, and the bolts clanged against the gravel.

  “Fool,” Cathal muttered. “You think every fae in this town hasn’t heard of your inventions? You think the fae of the Caribbean would not tell of your slaughter of the morgens? We will have your blood for theirs.”

  I almost growled. Cathal knew more of our history than I would’ve suspected. He knew more of it than Theodore knew, which meant at least some of his knowledge hadn’t come from Betsy, and I let that small sliver of trust I had in her grow just a little more.

  Cathal stepped toward Theodore, continuing his diatribe as he drew a slender blade sheathed at his waist. I hesitated to call it a dagger, but it wasn’t quite long enough to be a short sword. The weight of the harmonica pistol felt good in my grasp. I’d been in enough firefights to learn how to control my movements, even when our lives were on the line.

  The cartridge slid home with a satisfying click, and I raised the barrel. There was a time when I was more noble and I probably would’ve warned Cathal, but I’d grown impatient in my old age. Or perhaps I’d grown more cautious.

  I pulled the trigger smoothly, and the light from the ward on the clip shone almost as bright as the burst of fire from the end of the gun. It was a good shot, taking Cathal in the shoulder. But where the iron should have crashed into his body and sent him to the earth, instead it ricocheted off into the air.

  The fae looked back at me, his eyes wide before he dashed behind Theodore and I lost my shot. I expected the fae to take Theodore hostage, but instead he sprinted past us, dodging behind a carriage full of wary onlookers.

  “He ran,” Betsy said, the disbelief plain in her voice.

  I stared after him. He was fast and moved with a sublime grace that I only saw in the supernatural creatures I’d encountered, and extremely seasoned fighters. “He could’ve taken us.”

  The world shimmered, and Cathal vanished. It was as if a thin veil of water had run across my vision, and then it was gone.

  “What the hell was that?” Charlotte asked.

  “A misdirection,” Betsy said. “He can hide himself through magic. It’s a skill some of the older fae have. I’m surprised you didn’t encounter it when you battled the morgens in the Caribbean.”

  I frowned. “We’ve seen similar things, but nothing quite so comprehensive. I could’ve sworn his very footsteps vanished.”

  Betsy shook her head. “That’s unlikely. Too many sounds for him to mask at once. And here,” she said, gesturing to the calm crowds walking around us, “it would appear he hid our altercation from the townsfolk.”

  “Fine,” Theodore said. “Gregory and Charlotte are pirates, and crazed fae are trying to kill us. Why don’t we stop thinking about it and hurry up to get the shit done?”

  “Theodore’s right,” I said, hurrying toward the back of the saloon and rummaging through a pocket on my vest. I pulled a pair of goggles over my eyes and clipped an aether lens to the side. I glanced at Charlotte. “Why didn’t you take a shot?”

  “And tip our hand so early?” she asked. “You’re smarter than that, dear.”

  I gave a sharp nod and focused on the saloon. While the other buildings we were warding wer
e still under construction, or at least repair, the saloon had already been here. And since I didn’t really know where everyone’s loyalties lied, I didn’t dare tell the proprietors what we were doing. That meant the ward for the saloon needed to be installed outside, or we would have to break in. Certainly a possibility, but also a good way to get killed.

  Sixteen across and four down, I counted to myself as I ran my hand along the bricks. At the end, there waited a brick where the mortar had been chipped away. We’d wedged a bit of painted wood into the gap that was textured to look like mortar. It would decay faster than the actual stone, but to the casual observer, it was virtually identical.

  I cursed when I realized the new rain barrel that had been placed out back was slightly in the way. “Help me move this.”

  Theodore came around to my side of the barrel. He put his shoulder into the edge while I twisted at the top. We didn’t need to move it far, but even half a foot made quite a ruckus. Once we were done kicking up dust and grunting with the effort, I took a deep breath and looked around. I was happy to find no one had their attention on us.

  I stuck the edge of the metal bar into the groove that should’ve been mortar. I wiggled it around a bit, the metal scraping and squealing against the brick before the wood gave way. I grasped it between my fingernails and pulled. The brick behind it fell into a slant, and Charlotte pulled it out before I turned back. I grabbed the second brick from on top of it and one from beside it to reveal the mount we’d installed in the wall.

  “It’s not going to work as well as the pipes in the conservatory,” Betsy said.

  “Just watch our backs,” I said. “We’ll deal with it if it fails.”

  Theodore rummaged through the leather sack he’d had on his back. He pulled out one of the pipe-mounted wards, very much like what we had installed at the conservatory.

  “Slide it in,” I said. “Keep the narrow end to the east.”

  Theodore glanced up and frowned.

  “Pointed at me,” I said.