Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

“You still look human to me.”

  He gave her a frown.

  “Minus a few metal bits,” she added.

  He huffed and turned his attention back to the canal. “The metal bits are not the concern. As time passes, as I use more of my abilities, I will gradually lose my humanity. I’m talking about what makes us human: empathy, compassion, the innate drive to be part of the social order.”

  “I don’t do so well with the social thing, either. Ask anyone who knows me.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” he said with heat, though his gaze was cold when it met hers. “I’m going to become a monster.”

  “Because you’re a ferromancer.”

  “Yes.” His voice softened, and she got the sense that he still didn’t like confessing that.

  “So, that’s it?” she asked, growing annoyed with his pessimism. “You’re just going to give up and accept it?”

  “After a ferromancer’s final casting, there’s nothing to be done.”

  “Always? No exceptions? No one’s ever tried to beat this thing?”

  He hesitated. “Not in the last fifty years. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories out of Europe.”

  “Stories, yes. You hesitated. What happened before these recent problems?”

  “It’s just a myth. A tale of hope whispered among the damned.”

  “That’s borderline poetic.”

  He gave her another frown before looking away. “The ferra keep us in the dark.”

  “The ferra. Solon said they’re the female half of your race. Can they do…the things you can do?” She had yet to develop a full of understanding of just what a ferromancer could do, so she kept it vague.

  “The active power only manifests in the male.”

  “Curious.” She thought back over her conversation with Solon. “Why did Solon think I was one of them?”

  “You can command a construct and—” he stopped.

  “And?”

  “And it’s not a common ability.”

  She lifted a brow. “So I can do some things other people can’t. I’m pretty good on the fiddle, too.”

  His forehead wrinkled.

  “And what’s up with that? Why does my playing seem to help you?”

  “I speculate it’s your connection to my construct.” He took a breath. “To Lock.”

  Lock sat up and made something like a little roar.

  Grayson slumped. “And so it begins.”

  “So what begins?”

  He shook his head and got to his feet.

  She caught his wrist. “Would you please stop being so cryptic?”

  “Were you able to get the plans? You’ll give them back to me and we’re done?”

  It surprised her how much it hurt to hear him say that. After everything they’d been through…

  She could only see one reason. “You think I’m ferra, too.”

  He held her gaze, saying nothing.

  “I’ve lived on this boat since I was three years old. I don’t know anything about any of this—except what you and Solon have told me.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not in your ancestry,” he replied, his tone soft.

  She was stunned. “You think I have some kind of ability to control you? You think that I would?”

  A bitter smile curled his mouth. “You already command a crew of men.”

  She shoved herself to her feet. “Not against their will!” She made herself continue in a softer voice. “I realize that you hardly know me, but that goes against every fiber of my being. I’ve worked too hard to hang on to my freedom. I would never take it from another—even a self-described monster.”

  He studied her. “Then you’ll give me the plans?”

  She reached down and picked up the tube, then offered it to him. “Uncle Liam said that the technology is influenced by ferromancy, but that the plans contain none. He said the designer was a mechanical genius.”

  “He did?” Grayson looked surprised, and perhaps, pleased.

  “That was before he knew what you are, of course. What I don’t understand is why you would design something like that.”

  “The challenge. To make what is impossible to the mundane, possible.” For the first time, his tone warmed and a glint of enthusiasm lit his eyes.

  “But didn’t you make Lock?”

  He glanced at the little dragon on his shoulder. “Yes, but he’s one hundred percent ferromantic.”

  She marveled at the way he went on and on about the locomotive, yet he shrugged off something as miraculous as Lock. “They’re both beautiful.”

  “But it’s the locomotive’s function that is the marvel.” The enthusiasm in Grayson’s tone grew more pronounced. “I hope to get a patent. That’s why I wanted the plans back. I’m surprised you returned them. If I sell them to the railroad, the need for the canals will decrease even more.”

  “Those plans are the creative children of your soul. I would never take that from you.”

  He studied her for a moment. “Technically, so is Lock, and you see how that turned out.”

  Lock lifted his head to look at her with soulful eyes.

  “Lock is a hell of a lot cuter than those plans.” She braced a hand against Grayson’s chest and reached up to tickle Lock under his chin. When she leaned back, Grayson was watching her.

  Without comment, he took Lock from his shoulder and transferred him to hers.

  “He’s yours,” he whispered.

  “I can’t—”

  He pressed his thumb to her lips, silencing her. “I can’t become a full-fledged monster without all of my soul.” A sad smile, and he turned away. “The ferra taught me that.”

  She watched him walk away, not sure what to make of any of this.

  20

  They docked in Lockbourne a little over an hour later. The gangplank was already down when Grayson emerged from her cabin, carrying his trunk. Briar stood on the aft deck above him. Perhaps she could just stand here and wave farewell.

  The silver watch shifted in her pocket as if Lock had heard her thoughts. Who knew? Maybe he picked up on her emotions or something.

  She slipped a finger in her pocket, brushing the warm metal surface. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’m being a coward.”

  Grayson turned and looked up at her, though she knew there was no way he could have heard her. She flashed back to him and Lock playing chess, or any of their other interactions. Could the two of them communicate at a distance? She found the notion disturbing.

  Walking to the hatch, she descended the ladder into her cabin, then stepped out through the door into the cargo hold. Grayson glanced over as she joined him.

  “You and Lock can communicate,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  “Not in words.”

  “Because you don’t need words when he’s part of your soul.”

  Grayson grunted, but didn’t argue.

  She frowned. “I don’t think you should leave him behind.”

  “He’ll be more sad if I take him. He loves you.”

  Lock stirred in her pocket once more, and she had the sense that he wasn’t happy with Grayson’s revelation.

  She slipped her fingers into her pocket again. “Yes, he over-shared,” she said to Lock. “But it’s all right. I love you, too, Lock.”

  She glanced up at Grayson, expecting amusement, but he wasn’t smiling. He looked intrigued, as if he hadn’t expected her to understand Lock so well. But she didn’t get to question him about it as Eli and Jimmy joined them.

  “So long, ferromancer,” Eli said.

  “Don’t you mean good riddance?” Grayson asked.

  “I was being polite.”

  Grayson smiled, then turned to Jimmy.

  To Briar’s surprise, Jimmy offered him a hand. “Thanks again for fixing my father’s watch.”

  “Thank you for letting me,” Grayson answered. “I was about to go mad isolated on a wooden vessel on the water.”

  Jimmy looked puzzled by the comment
, but Briar remembered Grayson telling her that a ferromancer wouldn’t be comfortable on her boat. Maybe that was another reason he was leaving.

  A carriage rattled past on the street that bordered the docks. “Have you the funds for your journey?” she asked Grayson. He would be traveling by carriage to Newark where he would catch a train to who knew where.

  “I do.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out an envelope. “I also need to settle my bill for my passage.”

  “I kidnapped you.”

  “Semantics.” He offered her the envelope. “Take the envelope, Miss Rose. Most of that came from your cousin.”

  “Well, in that case…” She took the envelope from him, then glanced up in surprise when she felt how thick it was. With some trepidation, she looked inside. Stunned by what she found, she began to count the bills. “I can’t take this,” she said when she finished. “Even if it did belong to Andrew.”

  “Why not?” Grayson asked. “I personally find it amusing that you’ll be using his money to buy this boat from him.”

  “There’s two thousand dollars here.” She got straight to the point.

  Jimmy’s mouth dropped open.

  “Which I understand is what a boat like this costs,” Grayson said. Had he been asking around?

  “The boat might already be mine.”

  Grayson lifted a brow.

  “Andrew is soulless.”

  “What?” Grayson must not have noticed Andrew lying on the deck when he confronted Liam last night.

  “Although he still wants to sell the boat. He intends to use the money to throw some big international gala for Solon. Any idea what that’s all about?”

  “No.” Grayson turned his head, frowning. She realized he was looking north, back toward Columbus. “I don’t guess it matters.” He picked up his trunk and started across the gangplank.

  “Grayson, wait.” She hurried after him. “I can’t take this money.”

  “Then toss it in the canal,” he said over his shoulder.

  She huffed and continued after him. They rounded the end of an empty wagon and Grayson finally stopped. She took a breath for another argument, then she noticed Zach and Benji standing a few feet away. They were talking with a man in a blue coat. A policeman.

  Briar gripped Grayson’s arm, and he quietly set down the trunk.

  “Ah, I see now,” the policeman said, his head turned toward the boat. The Briny Rose. Odd name.”

  “I believe the previous owner was once a sailor at sea,” Zach answered. His voice was stronger now, but it had an odd metallic resonance Briar hadn’t noticed before.

  “Makes sense,” the policeman agreed. “Sorry to trouble you.”

  “No trouble,” Zach agreed with an easy smile.

  With a tip of his hat, the policeman turned and walked off.

  “That was amazing,” Benji said as soon as he and Zach were alone.

  Zach turned away and seeing her and Grayson, his cheeks turned pink.

  “What just happened?” she asked. “Was that policeman looking for me?”

  “Yes,” Zach answered.

  “But Zach told a fib and he believed it,” Benji said. “He thought the boat was called the Briny Rose.”

  “Zach?” she prompted.

  “It’s on account of what Mr. Martel did for me.” Zach waved a hand at Grayson.

  “He can magic people into believing what he says,” Benji clarified.

  Grayson looked amused by the comment, but remained silent.

  “I would never use it for ill,” Zach said quickly. “And never on you, Captain.”

  “I believe you, Zach.” She patted his shoulder, and hoped her smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. “I’m going to walk Mr. Martel to the carriage station.” And try to give him his money back.

  “Have a safe trip,” Benji said. He still stared at Grayson with something close to wonder.

  “I will, Ben.” Grayson laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take care of your brother?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Grayson turned to Zach who watched the exchange with a small smile. “Don’t get any ideas. It won’t work on me.”

  Zach smiled, but as was his habit, remained silent.

  Grayson offered his hand and Zach took it.

  “Thank you,” Zach said.

  “No problem,” Grayson answered. “As I told Jimmy, I enjoy fixing things.”

  Zach just smiled.

  Briar cleared her throat. “If you two would get the fresh team hitched, we can get underway when I get back.”

  “Where are we headed?” Benji asked.

  “North.” She didn’t elaborate.

  She’d never captained a boat on the northern stretch of the Ohio & Erie, though she had traveled it a few times with her uncle. She’d often considered a northern run, just for a change of scenery, but for some reason had never left her home stretch. Now it seemed she may not be going back.

  Perhaps it was her penance for the wrong she had done. That seemed ironic since that wrong had been done in an effort to save the canal. In her attempt to preserve what she loved, she had lost it—or would soon. Were wanted posters up in the canal office yet?

  Leaving Benji and Zach to their tasks, she fell in beside Grayson as they walked into Lockbourne. When she glanced up, she found him smiling.

  “When you healed Zach, you told him he would have an ability. Is that what you meant?”

  “It’s the nature of soul iron,” Grayson answered with a shrug—or the best he could manage while carrying his trunk.

  “What’s soul iron?”

  “The alloy I told you about. We make it.”

  She realized he spoke of the shiny silver metal that all ferromancer devices seemed to be made from. “That’s how you fixed the rudder,” she remembered.

  He grinned. “I cheated.”

  “And that’s what Solon noticed.” When he’d stopped in the middle of the street and climbed from his carriage to look around. “Good thing we didn’t meet any other ferromancers while my boat was sporting soul iron.”

  “Solon felt me adapting it. That’s what drew his attention. Most ferromancers are territorial. My use of soul iron would have kept them away—unlike the Scourge. Although, it’s the constructs they go after.”

  She looked up. “What?” She laid a hand over the pocket where Lock hid. “Why go after the constructs?”

  “I’ve told you. A ferromancer’s construct holds a piece of his soul.”

  “You said Lock was Mr. Martel’s heart. Your…heart.”

  He glanced over, his eyes once again cool.

  “Oh Jesus, your scar. You were being literal.”

  “Cut something out of a ferromancer, and he’ll instinctively replace it with soul iron. It’s how the ferra keep us in line.”

  Briar stared at Grayson in horror, unable to believe what he was telling her. “I think I’m going to vomit.”

  “Literally or figuratively?”

  She frowned at his levity. “So if the Scourge get Lock…” If Liam got Lock.

  “There’ll be one less evil ferromancer in the world.”

  “You’re not funny. How will I know them?”

  “You won’t. Only a ferromancer can sense the Scourge—as they would recognize the ferromancer. But it should please you to know that constructs are otherwise indestructible.”

  At least there was that. They turned down Main Street, and Briar could see the carriage station at the far end.

  “But how would the Scourge recognize…” She thought about all that he’d told her. “What exactly are the Scourge? You make them sound magical. I thought they were just vigilantes who hunted ferromancers?”

  “Technically, they’re the ferra’s police force and executioners.”

  “But are they magical?”

  “They are the antithesis of ferromancy. They don’t have an active magic, but they can dissolve soul iron.”

  She swallowed, remembering how Liam had held the med
allion that was Lock in his palm. “So how do the Scourge fit into the family tree? I assume there’s some connection.”

  “There is, and it was how it was determined that ferromancers—be they male, or the female ferra—and humans were different races. If we stay within our own races, our offspring are like their parents. Cross the two races, and you get the variant that make up the Scourge. Think of them as mules—just don’t call them that to their faces. They get pissed.”

  “Mules are sterile.”

  “Yes, and they carry a huge chip on their shoulders about it.”

  She stared at him.

  Grayson lifted a brow in question. “What?”

  “It’s a lot to take in,” she admitted. “It’s like there’s a whole other world I knew nothing about.”

  “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before kidnapping a ferromancer.”

  “Ha ha.” She thought back to that first night. “How did I manage that?”

  “You isolated me in a world without modern technology and bound me in something other than iron.”

  “Dumb luck,” she admitted, letting his slight dig at the canal’s lack of technology go. “What about Lock? You could have used him to get free.”

  “You had already taken him from me.”

  She frowned. “You still think I’m ferra.”

  “You’re not Scourge. I’d feel it.”

  “I don’t actually remember my father, but he wasn’t a ferromancer.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Died when I was a few months old.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what if you weren’t your father’s natural daughter?”

  “I guess it’s possible, but you’ve seen my cousin. People often mistake us for brother and sister.”

  Grayson shrugged. “I’m just telling you how things work according to what I’ve been taught.”

  They had arrived at the carriage station. They walked inside, but found the small room empty. There must not be any carriages departing soon.

  Grayson set his trunk beside an empty bench. “I’ll go purchase my ticket.” He headed for the ticket window.

  Briar watched him walk away, her mind awash with all he had told her. It was odd, but she had never sought out any details about her parents. Between Uncle Charlie, and Agatha and Liam, she had a wonderful childhood. She’d always felt a bit like she was betraying them by asking about her parents.