Riveted

by Brook, Meljean

  She shook her head, the color in her cheeks high.

  “So we head back to Vik,” Dooley continued, “and there’s Källa, flying in, though her balloon has next to nothing left and ash in its engine, too. We figure out that you’re somewhere north on that glacier. Källa insists that you’ll hole up and wait, that you know we’d come. They’re cleaning out the engines as fast as they can, the old chief bellowing a full day and night, and that gray snow is falling. We’re all set to leave the next morning when a monster walks into town.”

  “This troll?” David guessed, remembering his own reaction.

  “The very same. It gave everyone a terrible scare. If not for Källa, Vashon would have likely put a rail cannon on it.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Annika said softly.

  “And that’s a feeling we all share. So we work it out that Vashon will take the airship up over the glacier, look for the spot you went down, search for where you holed up. Frida here says, ‘No, they’ve got it all wrong. Annika will hole up until she needs to go—and then she’ll go despite her fear.’ So we decided to run up through the pass, looking for you, as we all agreed that’s the route you’d take. And it took us two days, but, there we were.”

  And thank God for it. “Is the airship still in Vik?”

  Dooley shook his head. “Vashon ran into us the next morning, saw that we had you. She’d have flown us in to Vik, where your aunt Lucia still is, but we saw that there was nothing going to pry Annika away from Frida, and I didn’t want to fly you into Vik and be murdered when you woke and found I’d taken you away from her. So Vashon’s gone on to Smoke Cove, to spread the word about Heimaey and to see if there’re any men at the station who want to fly with them back to Castile—and at this moment, I wouldn’t want to be where Komlan is standing. I suppose they’ll be there a few days, to sort out who is going and who is staying. There’re more men at the station camp than that ferry cruiser can carry at once, so they’ll be making several trips. Vashon says she’ll look to see us in Smoke Cove on her second trip, if we’ll be taking a ride back to Johannesland.”

  “And if I want a job again,” Annika said.

  David’s heart gave a heavy thud. “Do you?”

  “No.” Her fingers threaded through his. “I don’t know where I’ll be. I hope it’s close to you.”

  His throat was tight. “I’ll find some way to make sure it is.”

  “I’ll not be going far, either,” Dooley said. “After my heart stopped palpitating upon seeing this troll, I realized I might stay a while, record a few folk tales.”

  “Mr. Dooley asks many questions,” Frida said dryly.

  “And she doesn’t answer a one.”

  She smiled slightly. “Perhaps that will come.”

  “I think it should,” Annika said in Norse. “Sooner than later.”

  Her mother arched auburn brows, answered in the same language. “No more hiding, little rabbit?”

  “For a while. But not in the same way. These stories, these trolls—they worked to keep people afraid, but now that people are coming anyway, I worry that they’ll do us more harm than good. They almost put a rail cannon on you, Mother.”

  “I’m not all that pleased by the thought of it, either.”

  “And if we continue on like this—if people believe we are witches and ride in trolls—it’s easier to hurt us when the time comes when we can’t hide any longer. It’s easier to think of us as monsters who must be killed. But if they know the trolls are only machines, and there is no magic or secrets, then we are just women. Then we aren’t any different from the people in the New World. And you know we aren’t—you told me so before I left, and it was true. Not for everyone. But it’s true for most of us.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “It won’t be easy, rabbit.”

  “No. It will take a long time, I think. But we can start small, here. And never back down.”

  Dooley puffed on his pipe, his gaze following the exchange between the two women. He glanced at David.

  David shook his head. Yes, he understood some of it. No, he wouldn’t translate.

  But he would stay and help them…whatever form that took.

  Annika had to admit relief that the airship wasn’t in Vik. She wasn’t feeling strong enough to fend off the looks and questions from the crew. For now, she just wanted to be alone with David.

  He was the strongest person she’d ever known—not because of nanoagents, but his sheer will. He’d carried her for a full day and most of the night through the snow. The fever must have started that day, as it hadn’t yet become a full-blown bug fever with pustules and a rash, which almost always ended in death. That morning, when she’d finally struggled up out of sleep, her mother had described how they’d found him, cradling her against his chest, burning with fever. She’d been devastated, imagining his terror—and then his naked vulnerability when they’d had to put him in the snow.

  But they’d arrived in time, and he was already recovering more quickly than she was.

  He was also apparently determined to be absolutely proper—though by whose standards, Annika couldn’t guess.

  Aside from a light peck, she shouldn’t kiss him in front of Frida or anyone older than she was—it was disrespectful to ignore them, and when David kissed her, Annika couldn’t think of anyone else. But although her mother might be concerned for Annika’s heart, there was nothing improper about taking someone to her bed or sleeping in the same bedchamber.

  As soon as they arrived in Vik, however, he moved into a small house with Dooley and Goltzius. Annika didn’t want to share Rutger Fatbottom’s hearth chamber with Hildegard and her mother, even though it would only be a temporary arrangement. It remained unspoken, but Annika knew that they were all waiting for her to regain her strength before they traveled to Smoke Cove. Though Källa asked her to stay in the house she shared with Olaf and Paolo, Annika felt too awkward to accept, knowing that Paolo still celebrated his son’s trip to the moon. In the end, she decided instead to join Lucia, who shared a house with Maria Madalena and her nurse, with the added benefit of pleasing her mother with the assurance that she was so near to a physician, and that David visited often.

  Courting, Lucia said. Annika didn’t know how that could be true when he never came alone, always with Goltzius or Dooley, and she never had a second of privacy with him.

  After two days, Annika was so frustrated that she felt always on the verge of a scream. She filled the hours with sewing. The next day, Källa, her mother, and Hildegard drove Rutger Fatbottom to the rail camp, where they would see if the trolls could be salvaged. David joined them, as did Dooley. Annika was forbidden. She stitched a seam and plotted about how to find a private moment and a bed. Or the floor. It didn’t matter.

  But though her heart lifted when she saw Austra Longears and a second troll follow Rutger Fatbottom back into Vik, by David’s expression she knew not all had gone well. No one told her to return to the warm house when she ventured out. David came to her, gathered her against him.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  “The dogs found the camp,” he said, and that was enough, Annika was glad she hadn’t seen what they must have. “We chased them off, built a pyre—but there wasn’t much left. And there’s more.”

  Something that had made Källa angry. Annika could see it in her sister now, the long strides, her face set in stone. She passed them without a word. Annika glanced up at David.

  “On the opposite side of the cove, we found the remains of the ships the whale had taken. Freya’s Cloak was one.”

  Ursula Ylvasdottor’s ship. Throat tight, Annika’s gaze found her mother, emerging from Austra Longears. Frida had known the woman better than Annika did—but she appeared less grieved than worried as she opened Rutger Fatbottom’s chest hatch.

  David took a deep breath. “And then Källa said that Paolo had already offered her an airship, so she would continue doing what Ylvasdottor had done for Hannasvik, bringing in
cargo and supplies from Norway. Hildegard…disagreed.”

  Ah. Anger on top of grief. A dangerous combination for them both. “They fought?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did they finish?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  So they’d only been interrupted while driving separate trolls. Annika gripped his hand as Hildegard dropped through the chest hatch. Frida looked through after her, met Annika’s eyes, shook her head.

  “We need to hide now,” she said.

  He laughed a little. “That bad?”

  “Yes. Warn Dooley. He doesn’t want to be dragged into it.” She pulled him toward the house, where Lucia stood in the door. “We’ll wait inside, where it’s safe. David is about to learn a bit more about his new family.”

  Frida soon joined them, and they waited at the table, listening to the storm of shouts outside. Annika still hadn’t had a moment alone with David, but she sat next to him, which was almost as good, and was relieved when the conversation turned to leaving for Smoke Cove.

  “We’ll return for the last troll tomorrow,” Frida said. “If we can repair his legs.”

  Annika winced. “It was only one hinge bolt.”

  “And I imagine you had reason.”

  “I didn’t want to die.”

  “I suppose that is reason enough.” With a smile, her mother looked through the window, where the second new troll stood. She sighed. “It pains me to see them so naked.”

  Naked, but more clearly a machine. “Mine will stay that way.”

  Frida nodded. “And what of that whale? We could salvage a century’s worth of equipment from him.”

  David shook his head. “As soon as everyone outside of Iceland discovers what happened, you won’t want them to associate that whale with your people in any way.”

  “I suppose that’s true. It’s a pity, though.” She glanced at Annika. “Will you be taking your naked troll home?”

  “Only to visit. And perhaps in the spring, when I can take David up to bury Inga’s beads.”

  She felt his sharp gaze on her, but didn’t look away from her mother. Frida nodded, then regarded him thoughtfully.

  “You are much different from your cousin. And your aunt.” Who were still shouting outside. “More like your mother, in many respects.”

  “And my father, too,” he said, and smiled a bit when Frida shrugged.

  Oh. Annika remembered doing the same once. But when she opened her mouth, David shook his head and looked to her mother again. “Did you know Inga?”

  Frida’s eyes softened. “Yes. I spent the first part of my life with her.”

  Beneath the table, David took Annika’s hand. “Will you tell me about her? I don’t know anything of her life before she left.”

  “I will be happy to, David Ingasson.”

  Their last day in Vik dawned late, and not very bright, but since Annika knew that David would be on the ladder behind her as she drove, it was an absolutely perfect morning. A week in Vik, and not a minute alone.

  Yet she was more in love with him than ever. Just as during the first night in Phatéon’s wardroom when she’d discovered how well she liked him, long conversations over the corner of Lucia’s dining table only deepened her fascination, her appreciation for everything David said and did.

  And those hours only deepened the ache of wanting him, needing him. Her guts were well and truly riveted. She loved and savored every small touch between them—and was desperate for more, desperate to have David to herself.

  Soon, she would. She all but danced, tightening bolts and checking the coal level, stoking the furnace and waiting for her to steam. Finally, she emerged onto the street again, where the others had gathered while the trolls heated. Her gaze quickly found David, who was helping Lucia into Källa’s troll. His aunt had volunteered to watch over Olaf while she drove—Källa breaking ahead of them to reach Smoke Cove as quickly as possible, where she intended to help Paolo smooth over the chaos that must be left in Lorenzo’s wake. Frida, Hildegard, and Annika would follow at a slower pace.

  Frida pulled her close, kissed her cheeks. “We will stop at Thor’s Spring tonight.”

  An eight-hour trek. “All right. But don’t be concerned if I fall behind.”

  Her mother’s wry gaze flicked to David. “I won’t be too concerned,” she said. “But do rest often.”

  “Do not promise anything, Annika,” Källa said from behind her. “Just say that you will be in bed.”

  “Källa!”

  Her sister grinned, slipped her arms around Frida. “Do take care of my mother.”

  “I will try.” Frida rubbed her shoulder. “She will come ’round. She is only afraid to lose you again.”

  “I know. It will be a while before I can find a proper airship, anyway. Until then, Paolo would like you both to come to the station house. He should be there for some time while he begins work on the southern peninsula. I believe he has invited everyone in Vik to stay there, in fact. But we would be especially pleased by your visit.”

  “We will come.”

  Källa drew a deep breath. “Perhaps ask Lisbet if she’d like to visit. Tell her of Olaf. And if she can’t…I’ll understand.”

  Frida nodded, watching after her as she left them, climbed into her troll. Hildegard approached, her eyes narrowed.

  “Did I hear her worry that Lisbet would not come?”

  Frida smiled slightly. “You did.”

  “Ridiculous. Lisbet is not even a hair as stubborn as you.”

  “And hurt more easily.”

  Hildegard’s expression softened when she glanced back at Frida. “Then let us hope they are not fools to waste as much time as we did, yes?”

  “I was not the fool.”

  Oh, Mother. Annika prepared for another storm, but Hildegard only threw her head back with a laugh—then hauled Frida up for a hard kiss. Oh. Annika averted her gaze out of respect, saw everyone else staring, wide-eyed…and none of them half as astonished as Maria Madalena. Her mouth had dropped open, her eyes rounded. She looked to her nurse, who had begun to smile.

  Hildegard set Frida back on her feet, leaving her mother laughing after her as Hildegard stalked to her troll. At the chest hatch, she paused, looked back. “You were well worth the wait, Frida Kárasdottor!”

  She climbed in. A second later, Maria Madalena raced after her, holding on to her lover with one hand, her skirts hiked high in the other. “Wait! Oh, wait! Let us ride with you, instead!”

  With a grin, Frida slanted a glance at Annika. “Tell Mr. Dooley to hurry. He’s apparently intending to keep me company as I’m driving.”

  As was Goltzius. “And what will you tell him?”

  “All but the location, most likely.”

  “Mr. Goltzius is family to Hanna’s husband, and he will report what he finds.”

  Frida’s lips pursed. “Will he?”

  “Yes.” And it might behoove them to stop telling stories of witches and trolls, but a story of some sort still needed to be told. “I think that he will like to hear that her descendants have been caretakers of this island, keeping others from staking claim on this land. His people will have more reason to defend ours if we are family—and if they are coming anyway, we ought to create as much common ground as we can.”

  “Who is clever? Perhaps I will also not mention the murder, then, and only say that Hanna liberated the Englishwomen.” Frida kissed her cheeks again. “Thor’s Spring, little fox.”

  “Safe journey, Mother.”

  Wearing a smile, Annika joined David. Both he and Dooley were regarding Goltzius with concern. Goltzius was shaking his head.

  “I am happy for her,” he said. “I truly am.”

  “Happy for her doesn’t mean you can’t be sorry for yourself.” Dooley clapped him on the back. “But love will come around again.”

  “I’ll wait before looking for it again.”

  David met her eyes. “I don’t think it waits until you’re looking.”
r />   No, it didn’t. Oh, but she was looking now. With a significant lift of her brows, she glanced toward Austra Longears just as Frida’s troll gave a huff.

  “I suggest that you don’t make her wait, Mr. Dooley,” Annika said. “She’s likes to talk as she drives.”

  “Well, then.” He offered a tip of his hat to Annika, then a nod toward David. “We’re off. We’ll see you when.”

  She felt David’s gaze on her as she walked ahead of him, as she climbed into the troll. In the next moment he had her back against the wall, his mouth opening over hers in a desperate, deep kiss. She returned it with every pent-up emotion of the past week, every bit of joy that he was there, that he touched her again.

  With a groan, he dragged his lips from hers and held her, his breath ragged. “I need you, Annika. So much. Being proper this week has been hell.”

  It had been, though a wonderful sort of hell. She pressed kisses to his jaw, his throat. “Then why were you?”

  “I wanted to put everything in order before I came to you. You said you wanted to be near to me. Are you certain, Annika? Because I can’t let you go.”

  Her throat tightened. He hadn’t let her go. He’d saved her by never letting go.

  She’d never let him go, either. “I’m certain.”

  “Then tell me where you hope to go, what you hope to do. And I will do all that I can to be with you.”

  She hoped to be with him. But, no—that was not all that she hoped. “I intend to drive this troll into Smoke Cove, to tell my aunt Valdís that she was right about me. I will walk it through the street, and come out of the chest hatch, and the people will see that I am flesh and blood.”

  “No hiding?”

  “No.”

  “And then?”

  “I thought I might accompany you on your survey.” She grinned against his mouth. “I can act as a guide—and it is much easier to get around by troll.”

  “We aren’t finishing the survey. Not the one we intended. Dooley, Goltzius, and I have all changed our goals.”