“There is a village of sail makers north of here,” Rowena said. “They are incredibly skilled. They could make this balloon. I’m certain of it.”
“How would we pay them?” said Kale.
“Leave that to me,” said Rowena.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said River. “Your offer is very generous, but why would you go to such great expense for us?”
Rowena leaned forward, staring into River’s eyes. “A ship that can haul cargo over the sea is good. Very valuable. However, a ship that can fly over mountains and land… that ship would be priceless. If you can make my ship do that, I would be eternally indebted to you.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Kale, rising from his seat. “Alert the crew. Make ready for sail!”
River and Rowena glanced at Kale, and then each other. Kale started to walk away and then realized they were still sitting there. “Well?” he said.
“He already seems to have forgotten who is captain of my ship,” Rowena said with a mischievous grin.
“Or commander of this train,” said River. Kale watched this interplay with growing frustration.
“Oh, knock it off! Yes, yes, you’re both captains and commanders and rulers of the world. Can we please go now?”
They broke out laughing. “As long as you have that straight,” Rowena said.
As they rose from the table, River turned to see Shayla standing on the platform between two cars a few yards away. The woman stood there a moment, quietly staring back at River. Then her glance strayed to Kale and Rowena, who were walking down the beach arm in arm. With a flip of her skirts, Shayla disappeared inside the train.
River’s smiled faded as she realized Kale still didn’t know about Thane and Shayla. She shook it off. It didn’t matter. She would explain the whole situation later, when she had more time. For the moment, Kale seemed to have plenty on his mind with Rowena, and River had too much to do. She found Loren, and asked him to gather the crew. She climbed up onto the locomotive platform as they assembled in front of her. When they were ready, she outlined her plan:
“I want ten strong fighters to go with me,” she said. “Kale, Loren, and so on. The rest of you will remain here to gather firewood. Vann, you will be in charge of the Horse until I return. I will give you the keys to the armory in case you need to defend her. If we don’t return in twenty-four hours, leave without us and go on ahead to New Boston. The rest of you who are with me, get your weapons ready and meet at the boat.”
River left the platform and stepped inside the first passenger car. She found Shayla waiting for her there.
“What did you tell him?” Shayla said.
“What?”
“Kale. Did you tell him about us?”
River crossed her arms. “Which part? The part about you being spies and lying to us every since we met you? Or the part about you not being a whore?”
“I won’t let you goad me into a fight,” Shayla said quietly. “I know you love him, just as I do.”
River pursed her lips. “I have to go,” she said.
Shayla touched her on the arm.
“Wait,” she said. “Who is that woman with Kale? The dark-skinned one?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” River said, pulling away. She yanked open the door and went stomping through the next car.
“I’m coming with you,” Shayla called out behind her.
“Of course you are,” River said between clenched teeth.
Chapter 13
River briefly met with Rowena to develop a plan, and then the two crews worked together to transfer a large steam engine from the Horse’s supply of mechanical parts to Rowena’s ship, the Lady Fair. River instructed the crew to lower the engine into the cargo hold, and then went back to the Horse to gather the rest of the tools she would need. When she returned to Rowena’s ship, River purposefully left Shayla behind. It was for the best. Shayla hadn’t developed her sea legs yet, and she wasn’t feeling well. Not at all surprising, in River’s view. Back on the Lady Fair, River found the captain below deck with Micah.
“There you are!” Micah said as she came down the stairs. “Can you believe all this?”
River blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Micah and Rowena were in a small room at the stern of the ship. A lantern hung down from a timber in the ceiling, casting wavering shadows as it rocked gently with the movement of the sea. Micah sat at a desk that stood in the middle of the room, and Rowena stood just behind him. The walls of the room contained shelves loaded down with books, maps, and scrolls. Micah had several maps spread out across the desk, and River could see that he’d brought his satchel along so he could make copies.
“I think your friend approves of my library,” Rowena said as River joined them. She turned her head, taking stock of it all.
“You shouldn’t have let him in,” River said. “Now he may never leave.”
Micah looked askance at her. He snorted, shook his head, and went back to work.
“I have to discuss our plan with you,” River said. “If we’re going to attach balloons to your ship, it will require a few modifications.”
“Will she still float?”
“Of course.”
“Then do what you have to.”
“There is one other thing,” River said. “We need propellers.” Seeing Rowena’s perplexed look, she explained further: “The propellers will drive the ship when the wind is down, and they will help us to maneuver. They can be made of wood or metal, but they must be rather large.”
“There is a smithy in the village,” said Rowena. “Will that work?”
“We’ll need metal: thin, tempered steel would be best.”
“Then you shall have it.”
From that point on, things were a blur. Rowena returned to her duties, overseeing the crew as they set sail. River asked Kale and the others to help her move the engine to the stern end of the ship. By the time they had the engine bolted into place and the propeller shafts mounted, two hours had passed and they had arrived at their destination.
Rowena took River and Kale ashore to meet with the sail makers. Though the price was steep, the sail makers agreed to the project, and immediately set to work. They gathered up hundreds of yards of material from their various stores and workshops, and they all met in a large field outside the village. They argued and collaborated for some time, until the design was settled, and then no less than forty villagers went to work with their needles and thread.
As the work got underway, Rowena took River and Kale to the smithy. When they arrived, the forge was cold and no one was there.
“If you’re looking for Jeb, he died,” a voice said behind them. They turned to see an elderly woman leaning on a cane in the street.
“Is Jeb the blacksmith?” said River.
“Was, until he got sick last winter.”
“Who does your blacksmith work now?”
“I do,” the woman said with a cackling laugh. “Can’t you tell by my huge muscles?” She continued on her way, laughing and shaking her head as she disappeared down the street.
“Perfect,” said Rowena. “What shall we do now?”
“This changes things,” said River. “Kale, fire up the forge.”
He glanced at her. “I’m not a blacksmith.”
“You are today.”
Kale looked like he was ready to argue with her, but she silenced him with a glare. Kale sighed as he opened up the coal bin and began loading fuel into the forge. River immediately started rummaging through the smithy, looking for the metal they would need to build two large propellers.
“How much time do you need?” Rowena said.
“A few hours, if we can find good steel,” said River.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be on the ship if you need anything.”
As Rowena left, Kale was already busy working the bellows.
“Perfect!” River said triumphantly a few minutes later. She dragged an old barrel bin out of
the corner, and Kale saw several broadsword blades sticking out, and various other sizes and lengths of metal.
“Is that enough?” he said.
“Easily.”
“But the shapes are all wrong. Those blades are too thick.”
“That doesn’t matter. Once the steel is properly stretched and formed, the metal will be very thin.”
“And sword steel is good for this? Why not iron?”
“Iron is too soft. It can be bent easily. Steel can be tempered. It knows how to hold its shape.”
“Knows?” Kale said skeptically. “You talk about it as if it could think.”
“Perhaps not,” said River with a grin, “but it can remember.”
Kale shook his head. He went back to work pumping the bellows, forcing a whoosh of air into the burning coals. The embers glowed bright red for a moment and a gust of thick black smoke raced up the chimney. He flipped the coals over, encouraging them to burn off the impurities as River had instructed. He allowed them to cool a few minutes, and then hit them with another blast.
River gathered up three large hammers of different sizes and shapes, and lined them up next to the anvil. She took several sword blades from the bin, pushed them into the glowing coals, and located a set of long-handled tongs. Forty minutes after lighting the forge, the fire was ready. Finally, they went to work.
River instructed Kale on what she was doing as she began flattening one of the blades. It cooled, so she replaced it in the fire and drew another. Working in this fashion, River extended the metal out to nearly twice its original length. By the time she was done, the first blade was the width of a large man’s hand and nearly six feet long.
“Where did you learn that?” Kale said, clearly impressed by her smithing abilities.
“Tinker taught me,” River said quietly. “When I was young, before the Vangars killed him, we used to run the forge behind our shanty at night. We only worked at night, so the smoke wouldn’t attract the attention of the Vangar patrols.”
“You still miss him.”
“Every day. Tinker was a father to me. He taught me everything I know.”
“Everything?” Kale said, clearing his throat.
River snorted. “I see what you’re getting at. Yes, you taught me to use a sword, but Tinker did the rest. I wish he could see us now… all that we have learned and discovered.”
“He would have loved the Horse,” said Kale.
“Yes, and Sanctuary as well.”
In Kale’s eyes, River saw a reflection of her own nostalgia. Tinker had been a father to him, too, in a way. Kale had been much older at the time, but no less a victim of the Vangars’ reign. Sometimes, when she looked at him, she saw an older brother who had always been there, looking out for her, protecting her. Other times… other times, she didn’t know if she wanted to pull Kale close and kiss him, or hit him in the face.
“All right,” she said, quenching the propeller in a barrel of brine. “Now it’s your turn.”
Kale took up the hammer, and it was River’s turn to work the bellows. It only took a minute for the length of steel to turn bright red. It progressed into an orange-yellow color, and finally grew so bright that it was almost white. At last, it was ready to work. Following River’s instructions, Kale touched the blade to the anvil and dealt several heavy blows across the surface. The steel instantly began to curve upwards in a half-circle.
“Flip it,” River said. “Alternate from side to side. Count your blows. Keep it even.”
The warrior followed her advice, and the steel quickly returned to its proper shape. He pressed on, drawing out the steel, forging it into a long, thin bar. River had to remind him several times to reduce the power of his blows as the steel became thinner. With his massive biceps, Kale could easily have punched a hole right through the hot steel, forcing them to start the entire process over.
Two hours later, after they had forged the propeller blades to their initial shape, River taught Kale to weld two sections of steel together by striking the orange-hot pieces together with just the right amount of force. When he did, the impact of the hammer sent a shower of sparks out in the darkened smithy. Kale heard a distinctive change to the ringing sound of the steel. He almost heard the two pieces of metal become one. Kale smiled and held the piece up, proudly displaying his first solid weld.
“Good,” River said with a grin. “Now do it again.”
This process went on for several more hours. As the afternoon progressed, their arms grew tired and their stomachs began to rumble. They were drenched with sweat and filthy with soot, but the couple continued to work, fearful that if they left the forge for any amount of time it would cool and lead to even more work in the long run.
At last, just after sunset, they stepped away from the forge. They had two long blades, each tapered toward the end with a slight twist and a smooth concave shape. They carried the propellers out into the street, and leaned them up against the wall of the smithy to examine their handiwork. Rowena arrived during this process, and was quite impressed with what the two of them had accomplished.
“It would be best to file and polish the blades,” River said. “But I’m afraid we don’t have time.”
“Will they work as they are?” said Rowena.
“Yes, but they won’t be perfectly balanced. We’ll have to watch them closely.”
“Then they are good enough. Let’s get them to the ship. The balloon is almost finished, and we’ll need all hands on deck within the hour.”
Rowena summoned a handful of crewmen to haul the propellers to the ship. Kale and River stepped into a nearby inn for a quick meal. Their meals had just arrived when Rowena appeared in the doorway.
“The balloon is ready,” she said breathlessly. Kale stuffed a few more bites into his mouth and then handed the innkeeper three silver coins to pay for the meal. River glanced longingly at her platter of roast beef and vegetables as they left. She’d only had two bites.
The workers had carefully folded the cloth into a long, somewhat rectangular shape. As light as the fabric was, it stilled weighed several hundred pounds, and it was rather difficult to keep off the ground because of its flimsy structure. They remedied this by stretching the cloth across two long poles, which also aided in loading the fabric onto the rowboats. The fabric was too bulky and heavy for one boat, but using the poles, they were able to suspend the balloon across both boats, and simultaneously row them out to the ship.
“Keep the fabric out of the water,” one of the sail makers called from the beach. “If you drop it, you’ll never get it back.”
This proved more difficult than at first they had expected. It was late, and with the setting sun, the cold night wind came blowing across the water, stirring up the waves, so that it was nearly impossible to keep the two boats steady. At one point, the rowboats crested a large wave separately. River was in the second boat, and as the first went over the wave, she saw the fabric begin to slide off the poles.
River lunged forward, extending her upper body out past the gunwale as she caught the cloth and shoved it back onto the pole. No sooner had she accomplished this task than another wave hit. The boat lurched, and River tumbled over the edge with a splash. Her muscles went taught as she hit the ice-cold water, and she had to fight her body’s natural instinct to gasp for air. The wave rolled over her, tumbling her away from the boat, and River lost all sense of up and down. In a panic, she began to kick her feet. River had never had the chance to swim much as a child, but Tinker had taught her the basics. She tried to remember those lessons now:
Kick your feet! Tinker’s voice said in the back of her mind. Cup your hands as if you were drinking water from a stream.
She began to move, trying to control her already shaking muscles. The icy water burned her eyes and stars floated at the edges of her vision. River saw a dark shape pass overhead, and realized it was one of the boats. She was ten feet below the surface. River kicked, and began swimming towards the surface. Her ears pop
ped painfully as she rose.
She broke through the waves with a gasp. Her entire body was shaking. Her chest felt so tight that it was hard to breathe. River pushed all of this aside and started swimming towards the nearest boat. Kale saw her, and called for the others to stop rowing.
“Can’t!” one of Rowena’s sailors said. “If we stop moving, we’ll capsize.”
“But she’ll drown!”
Pirate stood on the stern of the boat, his tiny fingers clutching the transom, staring at her with wild desperation in his eyes. River saw the faces of the crew members looking back at her as her head bobbed in and out of the water. They went silent, and she realized that they were going to let her drown. What else could they do? Diving in after her would only cost more men. Slowing the boats would almost guarantee that they would capsize. The others had no choice.
They’re going to let me die…
Rowena’s face appeared at the back of one of the boats. “Catch this!” she shouted. She heaved a coiled rope in the air, tossing one end in River’s direction. The wind caught it, and pulled the rope off to her right, just out of reach. River began paddling towards it.
The rowboats pushed ahead, the distance growing as she floundered in the dark water. The waves rose and fell, tossing her back towards the shore. Her muscles convulsed, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. The rope vanished under the surface and for a moment, River was certain that all hope was lost. Another wave rolled over her. She resurfaced gasping for air, and the rope appeared just a few feet away. River lunged for it, and it slithered across the surface like a snake, dancing out of reach.
River glanced at the boats and saw them disappearing into the darkness ahead. They were one hundred feet away now, possibly more. Her body screamed with pain; her muscles shook involuntarily and her teeth rattled inside her head. River kicked towards the rope in one last desperate attempt. It vanished as she lunged at it. River was sure she had missed her last chance, but then she felt something graze her arm. She reached down, caught it with both hands, and exhaled a triumphant cheer as her fingers closed around the serpentine shape.
Killing the Machine (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 2) Page 11