Instead the flow of pebbles stopped, the hole allowing in a stream of sunlight so bright Henri turned her head away from its glare. Grinning with pride, she looked toward Ever. The smile dropped from her face.
Beneath the tear in Ever’s breeches, cyanosis had set in, the skin already tinged with blue. Henrietta didn’t have time to celebrate her tiny success. She had to widen the hole and get Ever out. Losing the limb had already passed from possible to likely.
She scrambled back to the stones and set to work, ignoring the pain as her fingernails tore and sharp edges of rock sliced into her skin. In a few hours, she stopped long enough for a drink of water from one of the canteens. Standing back, she surveyed her work. The hole gaped wide enough that she could crawl free, but dragging Ever out was another matter entirely. Even if Henri could lift her, the attempt would do more damage to her wound.
And she wouldn’t think about what would happen if the tourniquet came free. She could still feel Ever’s blood in her hair and see its stain sprayed across the front of her corset.
What did I hope to accomplish by opening the way? I can’t get her to the fortress and medical supplies. The only thing I managed to do was give myself a path to abandon her.
If she asked Ever, she knew the woman would tell her to go to Laurette and do what she could to save the Badlands. Queen and country above all else. But that would mean leaving her to die in the cave...alone.
That was one thing Henrietta couldn’t do. Somehow she’d figure out a way to...
A scream ripped through the air that sounded alien but somehow all too human at the same time.
“What was that?” She backed away from the hole, slipping on the pebbles beneath her feet.
Ever snorted, but the laughter turned to a cough. “That, as your people are so fond of saying, is the cavalry, and I for one never thought I would be so happy to see her sorry face.”
Her? The scream, or whatever it was, had sounded like a woman, but why would Ever seem pleased at the sound? Henri moved toward the gap in the rocks just as an animal leaped into the cave. Golden brown fur rippled over sinuous muscles, a deep scar marring the skin over one shoulder. Just below one rounded ear, metal rivets shone in the sunlight as an ocular twisted and focused on them.
Henri’s heart stopped. My father’s design, the one we found in the crate. Her gorge rose, even as the animal hissed at her. Could the thing smell her father on her? Did she stink of him?
Ever coughed again. “Cyclops, do not be difficult.”
“You know this animal?”
“I hate this animal, and she thinks little better of me. She does, however, worship my sister. I can only assume Laurette sent her after me for some reason.”
That was all well and good, but how could the creature help them? “Can we send her back to Laurette with a message to bring help? People to carry you out of here?”
Shivering even as the cave grew warmer, Ever chuckled. “Whatever else the creature can do, it cannot speak. She can lead you back to the fortress though.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you here.”
Ever fixed her glassy-eyed gaze on Henrietta, the fever shining through her eyes like fire. “Let us not pretend with each other. I am sick. I cannot walk. I can either die here with you by my side or you can follow the demon-cat, send back medicine and troops and possibly save my life as well as warn my sister since we are assuredly too late to intercept the lawyer now.”
“The Dark Hawk should be there any time. They can warn her. They’ll send help.”
“Laurette sent help. It is why the demon-cat is here.” When Henri didn’t respond, Ever reached behind her. In an instant, one of her guns wavered in her hand, pointing at Henri more often than not. “Protecting my sister is not up for negotiation. The cat will lead you back to the fortress. She is smart enough to avoid the traps. Follow her as closely as you can.”
Shaking her head, Henri stepped farther into the cave. “And how are we supposed to find you again? Follow the cat?” If she could get the gun away from Ever, perhaps...
Ever cocked the weapon. “Yes. My sister will send it back for me and you can ensure that a rescue party comes with it. You swore to protect my family. Watching me die protects no one.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Henri knew the warrior woman was right. “I’ll send help.”
“I know you will.” Ever half hissed, half growled at the cat then said, “Take her home, Cy.”
The animal chuffed and climbed over the rocks. Knowing if she waited, she risked changing her mind, not out of any sense of right but out of fear, Henri scrambled out of the cave after the puma, hoping in a twisted way that she’d have the chance to amputate Ever’s leg after all. If only because it would mean the woman had survived.
* * *
The queen hadn’t lied about sticking Tobias in with the prisoners. Fortunately, he’d been given a cell to himself. For all he knew, he’d been responsible for sending some of the other men in here across the border. Facing them alone in a locked room didn’t appeal to his sense of self-preservation. Of course, when the guard unlocked his door in the morning, instead of rushing forward to get out, he stepped back, his mouth open.
The guard peered into his cell. “Are you coming out or not? The queen said I should take you to the room where Dr. Mason was storing her things.”
“B-b-but...” Tobias tugged on the hem of his shirt in an effort to compose himself. “But you’re a man.”
Chuckling, the guard smoothed his beard. “Last I checked. Don’t let that fool you, though. Women still rule here. Quite frankly, I don’t want it to be any different.” He waved a hand toward the corridor.
Tobias picked up his jacket and dusted it off before stepping from the cell. “Why? It would seem once prisoners are released they’d band together to take power.”
“That’s Union thinking.” The man waved at another guard—a woman this time—who led them into an open area surrounded by guardrooms. Once they entered, she moved to a door on the opposite wall and unlocked it, releasing them into the fortress proper. They twisted and turned down more corridors than Tobias could track, but perhaps that was the plan. The guard opened another door at last, reached in and swept a hand gently over the dimly glowing lichen on the walls, making them flare to life.
He leaned against the door, arms crossed over his barrel chest, and Tobias couldn’t help but feel dismissed. Inside the room, he found himself facing the impossible. It looked much like the loading bay of the Dark Hawk only fuller, with boxes and crates lining the walls. In the middle of it all stood a stone table that seemed as if it had been carved straight from the mountain rock.
Moving into the depths of the room, he picked up the first box, planning a methodical search. Henrietta had clearly taken all her father’s records, intending to sort through them later. Tobias searched a dozen boxes and everything he found was either failed or in-process experiments that had nothing to do with Mason’s work for the mafia. Nothing he could appease Lupo with.
He lifted the lid from another box and pulled the notes free, glancing at the equipment beneath. Nothing of interest there, just more parts and old clockworks. He flipped pages, eyes passing over diagrams and formulae that all began to blur together. An air of futility settled on him like a weight, making him sink lower and lower, and he nearly missed the sheet. Only after he’d turned the page did the note scrawled at the top register.
For I.L.
For Ignazio Lupo.
He casually turned the sheet back, trying not to draw the guard’s attention, and perused the chemical equations and experimental data. What he saw made him salivate. Even if he found nothing else, this would keep Gambini and the other dogs off him. Slipping the page free, Tobias folded it and slid it into his pocket. With renewed vigor, he searched the remainder of the papers i
n his hand. Nothing.
A commotion in the corridor grabbed the guard’s attention.
“What is it?” Tobias asked, hoping whatever happened would allow him the opportunity to keep looking...without the surveillance.
“Sounds like a sentry just caught sight of the Dark Hawk. Looks like you’ll have help soon. ’Course it also means unloading the rest of Dr. Mason’s things. If we’re going to get grub, we need to do it now.”
Time was up already. Henrietta Mason knew too much about the part he played in all of this. If any of her crew—or worse, that Ever woman—found him here, he’d not only be back in a cell, he’d be in chains. The formula would have to be enough. He closed his fist around a cylinder from the box—small enough to hide, solid enough to hurt.
“Certainly. I haven’t eaten since I was first brought in. I’m quite ravenous.” Tobias stepped to the door and waved his empty hand into the corridor. “I’ve no idea where we are. Lead on.”
This time he paid attention to their path, marking in his mind every turn that seemed the least familiar. When the guard rounded one last corner, he realized he needn’t have bothered. In front of them, a door stood wide, opening onto a different yard than where he’d been brought in. One large enough to allow an airship to touch down.
And on the far side stood a corral...teeming with horses. For the first time since Gambini’s men had fired on the Dark Hawk, a smile crossed Tobias’s face and he swung his metal-enforced fist at the back of the guard’s head. A strange sensation rolled through his body as he took off running.
It reminded him vaguely of hope.
Chapter Fourteen
Carson leaned against the side of the gunboat, watching over the edge as they descended. Another hundred feet and he’d see Henrietta again. His time aboard the ship had made him understand the first threads of the turmoil wrapping around her soul. As soon as he was able to shove this mess with St. Clair out of the way, he’d make her understand she didn’t have to live by anyone’s rules but her own. That building the gilded cage herself wouldn’t make it any less of a prison.
Closer now. Trees pierced the sky all around the tiny patch of cleared earth. It didn’t look big enough to land in, even without the surrounding trees threatening to puncture the airbag overhead, but he had to trust in Mahala’s ability to fly this contraption. The rest of the crew had survived her landing the ship here before. It was only a new—and terrifying—experience for him.
The trapdoor to the gondola opened, and Noah popped his tousled head through. “Cap’n really wants you up here for landing. Says staying in the boat’s even more foolhardy than anything Ever would pull and, to be fair, from him that’s really saying something.”
The boat rocked as Carson moved to stand beneath the opening. “I respect your captain, I really do. So if you’d be so kind as to—very respectfully—tell him to stuff it, I’d be in your debt.”
Noah snorted. “Yep, you even kinda sound like Ever.”
The door slammed shut above him and Carson shook his head. With all the stories he’d heard of the warrior princess, he couldn’t tell if the comparison was meant as a compliment or an insult. In the end, it didn’t matter. He made his own decisions, and something in his gut said he needed to be down here.
Their movement slowed as the treetops grew nearer. From above, the fortress seemed so small, a building barely large enough to house the queen and her troops...and not in comfort. If not for the fact that he’d been informed it was actually carved into the mountain itself, he’d never believe it was more than a small outpost. While Noah told him the fortress wasn’t new, the fact that Queen Laurette chose this as her base of operations impressed him. The odds that Gambini, or any of Lupo’s men, would find it by chance were more remote than the fortress itself.
Thinking of the mafia boss made him focus on the building again. Somewhere inside were the papers that would link Ignazio Lupo to the unkillable mafiosos and hopefully provide information on their weaknesses. And if he had any luck at all, Tobias St. Clair would be inside as well. Hopefully in chains.
And Henrietta...
A draft swept past, and his muscles tensed as he watched the trees swing closer. But it was only the gunboat that moved sideways. The ship proper rose with the current, rather than fighting it, as if one with the air. He had to give Pierce credit. The man had one hell of a crew.
Inch by torturous inch, they drifted lower. He peered over the edge. A handful of people stood against the building, waiting to tie the ship down. Another ten feet or so and they’d be landed.
Carson started to pull his head back into the gunboat, but movement—and the distant yells of “stop him”—jerked his gaze back to the ground. A man in a tattered suit rushed from the open doorway and across the landing area, ducking under the Dark Hawk. The ship itself cut off the pursuers as it landed, filling the space. Carson rushed to the other side of the gunboat and watched as the man climbed into the corral.
“Blast you to the seven hells, St. Clair!”
The man would be on a horse and away before they touched down. The warriors might manage to stop him, but Carson wasn’t willing to bet his lone witness on a maybe. With a jump, he swung his legs over the top of the gunboat and fell to the ground, landing in a crouch that twisted his ankle. Snarling past the pain, he pushed to his feet and ran-hobbled toward the corral in time to watch St. Clair and his mount leap the fence and race around the side of the building.
By the time he made it to the horses, warrior women had already been there, grabbing mounts and tearing after the damnable lawyer. Calming an animal long enough to mount it with his fresh injury proved difficult. The Dark Hawk was tethered before he cornered one and clambered onto its back. Once out of the corral and around the building, he galloped down the path.
He raced past trees and rocks, all the scenery a blur as he sought to catch up with the warriors. A loud rumbling gave him half a second’s pause, but even as his mount shied from their path, Carson urged it forward. Nothing would stop him from getting St. Clair. Certainly not anything as stupid as a bit of thunder. Soon enough the noise was more than he could ignore, and all pretense it was just a storm disappeared. It wasn’t long before he was met by the women returning, their mounts trudging back up the mountainside.
“What are you doing? Go after him.” He tried to surge past them, but one made a strange sound—half whistle, half click—and his horse dug its hooves into the dirt.
The woman trotted over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “The prisoner sprang a trap a short way down the mountain, not far past where we first found him. Either he is dead or we will have to wait until the dust settles to pick up his trail. Nothing can be done now.”
Rage built inside Carson as they rode back. Once he slid off his mount, one of the women took it, leaving him plenty of room to pace and dwell on his worries. All this time. All the stupid, careful planning had given him what? Mason...dead. St. Clair...dead. He’d already searched the cargo on the Dark Hawk. If the papers the courts needed weren’t here at the fortress, he had nothing.
And odds were, if he didn’t bring in enough to convict Lupo, he’d lose his badge for coming out here in the first place. Hell, even if he had the evidence, it was still a risk. And what of Henrietta? If Lupo found her...
No. Carson couldn’t focus on that. He’d protect her—it was the only course of action he could stomach. Hide her away from the mafia somewhere. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. He didn’t want to cage her either, so he prayed that together they could find enough to put Lupo and his army in prison.
Still, he fumed. The lawyer shouldn’t have run. He had to know nothing he did would be enough for the mafia. All his flight had done was threaten more lives. If St. Clair survived whatever idiocy happened on the mountain, he’d be lucky if Carson didn’t beat him to within an inch of his life. The fool did
n’t have to be in one piece to testify.
A short while later, Noah informed him that Henrietta and Ever hadn’t reached the fortress yet. Fear settled into place and tried to smother his rage. As much as he wanted to destroy Lupo, the idea that something had happened to Henrietta tore at his heart. He wanted to go out and search for her, but he didn’t even know where to begin. Instead he stalked by the fire outside of the fortress, hoping and praying that she was okay.
Mahala came out a brief time later to replace the stitches he’d torn when he jumped from the gunboat. Then Noah, and even Catherine, had come to the courtyard to try to lure him inside. When neither food, his injury, nor even Mason’s things tempted him in by sunset, they sent Captain Pierce. The smaller man matched the length of Carson’s hobbling stride and handed over a cup. Carson lifted it to his lips then raised a brow as the scent of whiskey met his nose.
Spencer shrugged and held up his own cup. “I figured you could use it. I know I sure as hell want a drink.” He took a swallow and tipped his head toward the gate. “Henri and Ever are still out there somewhere.”
Despite the heat of the season, the fire blazed high in the courtyard, and Carson let Spencer lead him to sit near it. He couldn’t think about Henrietta, couldn’t stomach the possibility that their one kiss might have truly been the last. Better to focus on the captain. “You really love her, don’t you? The princess. Regardless of all the quasi-insults you spout when you talk about her.”
“If you knew Ever, you’d understand that if I stopped saying those things, she’d lose respect for me. One of the reasons we fit so well together is, no matter what, we always mean what we say. She knows I think she rushes into danger. I know she thinks I talk too much and don’t fight enough.” The flicker of flames danced on Spencer’s skin as he let out a long, slow exhale. “And yes, I really love her, for those reasons and a lot more.”
Seleste deLaney - [Badlands 02] Page 14