Cold Copper aos-3

by Devon Monk

  “Just wait. For once, think first, shoot second.” She put her hand on the puppet’s shoulder, careful to be beside it and not in front of it just in case she was mistaken about what it could do.

  The puppet soldier did nothing.

  “It has no head,” she said again to Hink, who had walked up behind it, gun still drawn. “No trigger, no driver. A power source, yes. But that’s all it has. Put your gun down.”

  Hink scowled at her, and she gave him a wide-eyed look. “You aren’t afraid of a puppet, are you?” she asked.

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” he snarled. He slammed the gun into the holster and hissed, likely at the pain from jostling his wounded side so hard.

  “But you,” he said, “are too trusting.”

  “I just know what goes into the things I make. And this thing—soldier maybe?—this soldier isn’t complete enough to do harm. Like I said, something’s missing.”

  Hink walked around to stand in front of it, and Rose backed up too. They stood there a while, tipping their heads and staring at it, like two patrons in an art gallery trying to see the craftsmanship in a painting.

  “Gimbals well with the shift of the car,” Hink noted.

  “Has a sort of ball and rocker system set up in the ankles and torso. Keeps it standing.”

  “So you think it’s made for ships? Sea or air?” he asked.

  “I think watching it keep balance proves it can at least stand a deck,” Rose said.

  “What else do you think it can do?”

  Rose shook her head. “If I had to make a guess? It walks like a man, or does the kind of work a man does, but doesn’t tire until the…the battery there runs down. It could be a worker. For a factory or a mine of some sort?”

  “I’d think it would cost too much to make a thing like that, metal and rubber and wires. Men are cheap. Maybe it’s something for the rich. A toy?” he said. “A servant?”

  She shrugged.

  “How long do you think the power in it lasts?” he asked.

  “I don’t have the foggiest idea.”

  Silence as they stared at it some more.

  Finally, Hink said, “Well, I’m done being baffled by it. Let’s turn it off.”

  “I agree. No need for it to just stand there doing nothing. Also, it’s giving me the goose chills.”

  Hink grinned. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of it.”

  “I’m not afraid. Just unnerved, I think. It has no head.”

  “There is that,” he agreed. “Do you suppose I just turn that orb the other way to unscrew it?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  Hink walked up to it and did so. The entire thing stiffened, then slumped, falling forward. Hink caught it, grunted a bit. “Heavier than it looks,” he said as he lowered it to the ground. That he did gently, as if it contained nitroglycerine.

  He stood back up, the copper and glass device balancing on his palm. That had come loose a lot easier than Rose expected.

  “Did you break the wires?” she asked.

  “Which wires?”

  “The copper ones.”

  He gave her a look. “Rose, all the wires are copper.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. The copper wires attached to the battery.”

  He lifted the thing, held it so the lamplight caught it and studied the edges. “Nope. Doesn’t appear I did. Four wires, just like before. Do you have any complaints if I keep it in my pocket?”

  “Other than it’s not yours? No complaint from me.”

  “Come on now, Rose. Tell me you don’t like a man who isn’t afraid to just reach out and grab what he wants out of life.”

  “Oh, sure. Confidence in a man is one thing. Thievery—”

  The train car tilted so hard she was thrown off her feet and landed on her back end and elbows, then slid down the sloping floor and slammed into the door.

  Hink was upended right behind her but somehow managed to land by locking his arms on either side of her, so he didn’t completely crush her when they collided.

  The puppet came sliding toward them next, and Rose had a moment to be grateful the door she had fallen against was locked tight on the outside.

  Then the dead body started speeding their way.

  “Move!” Rose yelled. “Dead body, dead body!”

  Hink pushed to one side, rolling, and grabbed ahold of her coat lapels as he did so, yanking her aside with him.

  The puppet soldier thunked into the door where they had been only moments before. Then the dead body smacked into it with a meaty thump.

  Rose suddenly realized she was sitting, well, mostly lying, across Hink’s body, their legs tangled in a most improper manner.

  “Hey,” she breathed.

  “Ma’am,” he said with a suggestive grin. “I do believe we have gotten ourselves into a bit of a jumble.”

  “You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “I’m confident I am.” He did just that, and Rose was not shy about kissing him back. This was it, the last straw. She could feel it in every inch of her bones. Her heart was well and truly set on this man. He might infuriate her, test her patience, but she loved him. Not just because he was the first wild-minded fellow she’d met outside her little town.

  She loved him for challenging her, for caring for her, for the wild, adventurous troubles he seemed to constantly land himself in.

  Plus, he had a sweet airship. She couldn’t deny that added just a bit to her feelings for him. The Tin Swift was a place she could belong. A job she would love, running the boilers across every sky in the world. And Captain Hink was a man she could happily spend her life with.

  All these thoughts flickered through her mind in a rush, then were replaced with this: his mouth pressing gently against her lips, catching at the curves of her with delightful attention to detail.

  Just to see what he’d do, she opened her mouth a bit and gently bit his bottom lip.

  What he did was groan, but not in painful sort of way. Then his mouth was over hers with a bit more intention and he did something with his tongue that made her lose all breath and all thought, and go wobbly at the knees.

  She liked the feel of him, the taste and scent of him. She savored his body, strong beneath her, arms possessive around her.

  And then the entire world crashed around them.

  They were untangled and unkissed in a most startling way. One second the freight car and everything inside it went weightless and stirred up; the next second everything was thrown to the ground with a bang.

  “Rose,” Hink called out. “Are you okay?”

  She took in several hard breaths before she could push words out of her lungs. “I am. I am fine.”

  She had landed against a wooden crate and scratched up her back a bit, and lost the belt on her coat, which might have been Hink’s doing, but other than straw in her hair and stuck to her dress, she seemed to have all her limbs in the right places.

  Hink pushed himself up off the dead body, and straightened his coat, checking for the copper device in his pocket.

  “You have a gun on you?” he asked quietly.

  Rose checked to see if her gun was still tucked in her pocket. “Yes,” she said. “I have it.”

  “Good girl. Now come stand here with me, back to mine, facing that door.” He pointed.

  She walked toward him, the tone of his voice telling her this was not the time to ask questions. She did it anyway. “Why?”

  “Because we just landed. Any minute now someone’s going to open one of these doors to see if their freight is intact. And they aren’t going to like finding us inside.”

  She said no more, but stood, back-to-back with her airship captain, U.S. Marshal, and love. Rose Small raised her gun, cocked back the hammer, and waited for the door to bust open.

  19

  Out of the blackness came moonlight. And from that moonlight, came Mae. Cedar felt very, very relaxed, more rested than he had felt in at least a decade. The
re was no pain. It was a wonderful sensation, and he knew it would end soon.

  All good dreams must bow to the morning light.

  “It is done,” Mae said. She frowned slightly and pressed a cool cloth against his forehead. “The spell is complete. Are you awake? Cedar, can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he said, from both far away and near. Something, something wasn’t right with his body. He felt, strangely, as if he were in two separate places at once. It was…disconcerting.

  “Good,” Mae said. “Very good. Let me help you sit.”

  She did more than help, as Cedar lost track of where up and down were located while the room seemed to swing into place around him.

  There was something at his back—a pillow. And he was sitting on a blanket spread out on the floor. Next to him lay Wil. Only Wil was not in wolf form as he should be. He was once again his brother, needing a shave and a haircut, asleep and covered by a heavy blanket. Around his neck was a thin thread, and on that thread was a cross.

  “What?” Cedar cleared his throat and then looked back at Mae. The room didn’t spin this time. Even though it had only been moments, he felt less split in two. “Did you break it? Mae,” he said, unable to hide the relief in his tone, “did you break the curse for both of us?”

  “Temporarily,” she said offering him a cup of water, which he drained. “The spell will last a few hours. Perhaps six or seven. That means you’ll need to return to the church before dawn.”

  “What happens when the spell wears off?” he asked.

  “We don’t know.”

  “We?”

  She nodded at Father Kyne. He lay on a simple cot, breathing heavy enough Cedar could clearly hear each inhalation and exhalation. His lips were moving. Praying, Cedar realized. He was saying prayers.

  He felt something cool at the hollow of his neck and touched it with his finger. He too wore a cross.

  “How? What…part in this has Kyne taken? Is he holding the curse at bay?”

  “He is carrying your burden,” Mae said. “As is his faith to carry the burden of his fellow man. The binding of the curse hasn’t been broken; it has been…diverted to Father Kyne. I didn’t think it would work. But he insisted to have faith. Faith in God. Faith that a Pawnee curse would rest a while with him, if invited. Faith that God would help him remain strong. So you can hunt for the children. And for the Holder tonight.”

  “Wil? Why isn’t he under the curse?”

  “The curse was cast on you both. It was meant for you both to carry, each brother light and darkness. We could not lift it and bind it to Father Kyne for one without needing to do so for the other.”

  “Is the preacher carrying both curses? The…the weight of both?”

  Mae nodded. “I have eased it some, and could only bind it to him in the most shallow of manners. Nothing bone deep. Nothing blood deep. Nothing that will twist his mind. Just…” Here she cast about for words to describe what exactly she did with magic that no other witch could do as well. “It is bound to his faith, for lack of a better way of saying it. To his will. As long as he does not waver in this task, the curse and binding will hold. But it will tire him. And when he tires, the spell will unravel.”

  “Is Wil awake?”

  “Yes,” a hoarse voice said from the blankets next to him. “Wil is awake. And naked. And hungry. Again.”

  Cedar couldn’t help but smile. He had seen his brother too briefly over the last few months, only for the three days over the new moon each month. So this, nearly two weeks before he should have a chance to talk with him, was a welcome happenstance indeed.

  “I offered to put pants on you in wolf form. You didn’t seem interested,” Cedar said.

  Wil chuckled, then coughed. Mae walked over to him and handed him a cup of water.

  He drank, then handed her back the cup. “Mrs. Lindson, you’re looking lovely this evening. I am sorry to catch you in my unavailables.”

  “Thank you, Wiliam, but don’t worry about that. I thought we agreed you would call me Mae.”

  He rubbed his hand over his eyes, scrubbing at them for a good bit. “That’s right. We did, didn’t we? My apologies, Mae.”

  “None needed,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Human. As I prefer. Thank you. For that.” He smiled, and that charm he’d possessed since birth shone through. “Though I have a strong hankering for cinnamon. I don’t suppose there’s a stick of it anywhere around these parts? Or a dash of it in tea?”

  “Might have something in my coat pocket,” Cedar said.

  “Did you hear what it is we intend to do this night?” she asked as she found Cedar’s coat hanging on the chair, and rummaged in his pocket.

  “I think so. The Madders are set on us hunting the Holder, because that is what the Madders are always set upon, near as I can tell.” He pushed up and sat, resting his back against the wall without a pillow to ease him. “Father Kyne is hoping we will search for the children. We’ll be looking for the children, won’t we, brother?”

  He rolled his head to the side and gave Cedar a knowing look.

  Cedar nodded. “Children first.” He didn’t have to add of course. After he’d suffered his own daughter’s death, he’d lost his strength to brush the pain of any child aside. If he could help, he would. “We hunt the Holder at the end of the night, if we have we have time.”

  “You never disappoint,” Wil said, not unkindly.

  “Put on your pants,” Cedar said. “I’ll find your boots.”

  Cedar stood, and was glad there was no pain. He had expected to suffer for this respite of the curse he had carried for so many years. But this was Mae’s spell. She had yet to cause him pain.

  “Your things are here, Wil. I brought them from the wagon.” Mae placed a folded stack of clothes on the blanket. “Boots are by the door. Also, this.” She handed him the small cinnamon hard candy Cedar had kept in his pocket.

  “Oh…you are an angel,” Wil said as he reverently pulled on the candy’s wax wrapping and held up the disk of sugar like a man studying fine wine.

  “Thank your brother. He’s the one who remembered it last town we stopped through. I’ll leave you to dressing.”

  Wil popped the candy in his mouth. “God. Oh, God. This…” He closed his eyes, rolling the candy around in his mouth. “How did you know?” he sighed.

  “You always want cinnamon when you’re back in your own skin.”

  “True. I tried it in wolf once.” He frowned. “It was like licking a rusty pipe. Hideous. But this, this is so…so…” He just closed his eyes again, a smile across his face.

  Mae walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.

  Cedar stared at the door for a moment, wondering if casting the spell had fatigued or harmed her. She didn’t appear to be overly tired, but then, she often kept such things behind a calm exterior.

  “Have you asked her yet?” Wil asked.

  “Hmm?” Cedar said, coming out of his thoughts. “Asked her what?” He reached over for his gun belt hanging on the wall peg.

  “You know what.”

  Cedar did indeed. He had confessed last month in those scant hours when he and Wil could converse that he wanted to marry Mae. He had also said he didn’t know when to ask her.

  “It hasn’t even been a year since her husband passed,” Cedar said, plucking up his ammunition belt. “I don’t want her to feel I’m expecting anything of her.”

  “You do see the way she looks at you, don’t you?”

  “Wil. There isn’t time for that now.”

  “There is tonight. And I’ll have plenty of time to convince you that there is an honest woman who I’d love to share our family name with, in a brotherly way.”

  “I am aware. Very aware.”

  “So then, brother. Do I need to also remind you that most women won’t wait forever? Not in this quickly changing world. What if some handsome man comes along and persuades her away with his wiles?”

  “Wil. I have ne
ver taken your advice when it comes to matters of the female persuasion. I see no need to be doing so now.”

  “Life changes quickly, brother. As I reckon it, you and I change rather quickly ourselves.” He chuckled under his breath and stood up, stretching up onto his toes and reaching fingers toward the ceiling. “Love being tall. Love it. Don’t love being unfurred in this weather, though.” He shivered, then quickly dug about for his undergarments, and pulled those on, followed by breeches, shirt, and an overshirt.

  “Socks. I’ve been looking forward to these.” He sat down and bunched up a pair of thick wool socks, then dragged them over his bare toes. “So…snuggly. Ah, my loves, how I’ve missed you. Seriously and completely. I’d wear six pairs, if I had them.”

  “Your feet wouldn’t fit in your boots,” Cedar said. Wil was like this when he took man form. No, Wil had always been like this. Enthusiastic about life, with a delight for all sorts of things. His attitude was infectious.

  “Almost wouldn’t care,” Wil said. “But this. This is a boot.” He held one up and kissed the top of it, then shoved his foot into it. “Plenty of room in the toe, soft on the arch, royal of bearing. Built for a king.”

  “Hurry up, your majesty,” Cedar said. “There’s work to be done.”

  “Tell me you don’t love a good boot after tromping around barepads for days on end.” Wil stood and buckled his belt.

  “True. Although I’d go without, as long as I could have a cup of coffee.”

  “Right, of course. So would I. Speaking of which, are we in luck?”

  “We are. Kitchen’s this way.”

  “So is Mae, I believe. How are your knees?”

  “Why?” Cedar asked.

  “Just wondering if you’re capable of a bended one.”

  “Won’t be asking her tonight, Wil.”

  “If we don’t keep hold on the life we want, it’s likely to just wander away.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve heard you in a philosophical mood,” Cedar said. “Must be the full moonlight’s set you romanticizing.”

  Wil laughed. “My words are falling on deaf ears, I’m afraid.”

  “For now,” Cedar said, settling his coat over his shoulders and buttoning it up. “We have hunting to do.”