Typical Tabitha.
“I’m not going to win this, am I?”
Tabitha grinned again. “Nope.”
* * *
* * *
Kane figured they’d only been walking an hour or so before the humidity grew so dense that it could almost be cut with a knife. The forest floor was going to white sand, the palmetto trees becoming more and more frequent. By the afternoon, they were surrounded by palms and pines, and the sun bore down on them through the canopy of branches and palm fronds. The shade was cooler than being out under the direct sun, but Kane was still drenched in sweat. He’d removed his shirt and tied it around his waist, opting to forge on in his undershirt. Tabitha did the same, and Kane had to keep himself from looking her over. Her undershirt was sleeveless, like his, though he found it much more appealing on her.
He shook his head. Not the time or place.
Wildlife teemed around them, scurrying through the brush and chittering or squawking noisily in the trees. Kane glanced at a large snake sunning on a log several yards from them, it’s long body a light brown with a dark brown diamond pattern from head to the tip of its tail. He remembered stories of the venomous snakes of South Carolina, and kept an eye to the ground as they walked after that. He wouldn’t know how to take care of a cottonmouth bite, and he didn’t want to have to figure it out, either.
“Odin’s beard, it’s hot!” Tabitha used her shirt to wipe the sweat off her face before tying it back around her waist. She cursed again in Icelandic, mentioning something about Loki.
Kane nodded in agreement, wiping the sweat away before it could get in his eyes. He looked up and saw the Blue Herons resting in the trees above him. One had his beak under his wing and was scratching intently. Another grabbed a pine cone and tossed it to the side.
“I think they have the right idea,” Kane said as he leaned against a tree. He was thirsty, and imagined that Tabitha was likely just as much in need of water.
“I hope we find a creek or something soon,” she said. “Gods, I could use some water.”
Kane laughed. Tabitha was Viking, and often referred to the Norse Gods. It was different from his Catholic upbringing, and Kane often wondered what his Nun school teachers would’ve thought about him dating a Viking girl.
“Well, conjuring water isn’t really my thing.”
Tabitha’s face lit up.
“Draugalega Frosti!” Ghostly Frost! Tabitha’s hands glowed blue. She slung a blast at a nearby tree, the shot turning into a spear that embedded itself in the trunk.
Kane looked around in alarm. If the Hunters were out, that spell would set off their Seeker. He stretched out with his hearing. The breeze flowed through the pines and palm fronds. Insects buzzed. Birds honking and chirping.
Nothing.
Kane reached up, broke off the end of the short spear sticking out, broke it in half, and handed Tabitha a piece. He put his piece in his mouth and began to suck the water off, the cold soothing as the liquid went down his dry throat.
“Mmm,” Tabitha groaned as she pulled the ice shard from her mouth. “Gods, it’s like the best ice cream ever, only better.”
Kane grunted in agreement. He’d never been as thirsty in his life as he was wandering the low country of the South. As beautiful as it was, he preferred his drier Northern climate.
The sound in the brush was soft, almost as light as the breeze, but startling in its sudden impact and halt. Kane spun, dropping the ice as he looked toward the noise. Tabitha spoke, asking him what was wrong. He shushed her, waved his hand at her to keep quiet. Movement in the trees. Whispers. Boots. Blunderbusses armed. One. Two. Three? No. More of them.
Armor. Special Forces. Shit.
Shit.
Kane rounded on Tabitha.
“Drop the ice,” he said in a harsh whisper, pointing at the brush behind her. “Go! Go!”
Tabitha dropped it without a word, turned in the direction he’d indicated. He focused his hearing. Nothing ahead of them. No, wait. Off to the right. Footfalls. He guided Tabitha to the left, stepping over a fallen log and ducking under a low palm frond.
The voice was loud in his enhanced hearing, canned, the man speaking through breathing gear.
“Ice? What the hell?”
“Damn Seeker never lies. Heh!”
The Hunters. But with Special Forces troops? Who did they work for?
And how had they snuck up on them so fast without Kane hearing them coming a mile away?
Zig-zag, his mind screamed at him. Make yourself harder to track!
“Right,” Kane said to Tabitha, keeping his voice low. “Right! Right!” She turned, and he stepped ahead of her, clamoring over a large cluster of rocks as he went. He turned and helped her over, then pointed to the left. Kane heard more men shouting.
“They’re running!”
“Fan out! Flank ‘em!” Cliff. Damn it. Which meant–
“Come on out and play with us, piggies! Fear makes you sweeter!”
Richard’s voice was loud, syrupy and mocking. Were they toying with them? No, they couldn’t be that smart. Kane’s mind flashed back to the night before. Wil’s words rolled through his head.
“Don’ misunderstand, they dangerous. Stupid, which makes ‘em even more so. But they Hunters, ain’t no bones about that.”
Water. Waves crashing. Seagulls. A beach? He’d never seen one before, never heard the ocean. It was foreign, strange to him. He’d read about them, read about the wildlife, but had never seen it first-hand.
Now he’d get to see it while dodging people who wanted to kill him.
Way to bring work with you, Kane. You’re supposed to be on vacation.
He would have laughed at the joke if a bullet hadn’t whizzed by his head.
The ground went wet, the sand covered in what looked like large brown straws. The trees grew sparse, the grass getting taller, almost as tall as Kane, himself. The sky was open now, the trees behind them. They were out in the open. Damn it.
Kane ducked down, pulled Tabitha down with him. Little black bug-looking crabs scurried out of their way. The things clicked as they went, raising and lowering their one over-sized pincer as they scuttled away. Tabitha shrunk back against Kane, her eyes locked on the creatures as they scurried.
“Ew, gross,” she said under her breath. “I hate bugs.”
Kane shushed her, reached out again with his hearing.
The troops thundered through the brush. He heard the lever-action of a hunting rifle. A snort. Someone sneezed. Another spat, the shot spattering against a tree.
He motioned for Tabitha to stay down, then slowly peered up over the grass.
A large man emerged from the trees, a long reed of grass hanging out of his mouth. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, a white shirt with brown burlap overalls, and carried a lever-action rifle with a scope on it. A second man followed him, shorter, his face looking as if he was permanently angry. He carried a blunderbuss that made him look like a small child that had found his dad’s gun. The gun wasn’t meant for precision. It was meant for damage. He aimed to make a mess of whoever got in his way.
“Garrett,” the short man said. “Go that way. See if we can draw ‘em out.”
Cliff.
Garrett nodded, stepped in the opposite direction. He trained the rifle over the grass, looking through the scope. Kane stayed low. They were at least a hundred yards out. Even with a scope, it would be hard to spot the two Magicians hiding in the swamp.
His eyes fell on a pier a good quarter mile down from them, the water shallow and low enough that a person could fit underneath. He looked at Tabitha, nudged her, then nodded toward the pier.
“I’ll distract them,” he said. “You make for the pier.”
“I have a better idea,” she replied. She closed her eyes. “Draugur aðdáandi.” Ghostly Haunting.
Tabitha blurred for a split second, so fast that Kane would’ve missed it had he turned away. He heard something walk through the brush, tuned his hearing
to the woods behind the troops and Hunters.
A voice floated on the breeze.
“Hello, boys.”
Kane peered above the grass and saw Tabitha walk out of the trees. The men turned, blunderbusses were aimed.
“Stop right there, sugar,” said Garrett. “I hear one spell or you flinch in a way I don’t like, and I’ll have these men fill yer tits with powder and lead.”
Tabitha’s ghost stood there, staring off into space, not looking at the men. Her expression was calm, peaceful.
Kane felt a nudge and looked back at the real Tabitha, pulling his hearing back in. He nodded toward the pier, and they made their way through the grass. Another voice came through on the wind, harsh and serpentine. The hair on Kane’s neck stood up as the passed the shadow under a low-hanging tree.
Or did the shadow pass them?
“Keep running, little piggies. Cast another spell. Can smell you, piggies. Can taste your sweat.”
The pier wasn’t as large as Kane liked. They would have to stay low to fit under. But the grass was thick and tall enough to scrape the boards above. The tide was out, which meant they wouldn’t be heard wading through water. He helped Tabitha under, then followed as one of the men gave a shout and fired a blunderbuss. Kane looked back and saw Tabitha’s projection shimmer, then recompose.
“It’s a damn spell!” Garrett turned away, training his lever-action over the grass, scanning the area. “Christ, who the hell knows where they are, now?”
Cliff turned to the troops.
“Richard has the Seeker. Fan out. Find them. Now.”
The grass under the pier was thick, the air cool. Kane knelt down next to Tabitha. She grabbed his arm, her body trembling.
Richard’s voice seemed to surround them.
“I’m close, piggies. My little gadget can see you.”
His own body tensed in alarm. The spell. It was still active. Shit!
“Tabitha,” he whispered. “Kill the spell. Kill the spell!”
“I…I don’t know how,” she whispered, her tone panicked. “I usually just clean my amulet! I don’t know a counter-spell!”
“Make one up!”
Richard’s voice was in his ear. Kane’s blood went cold.
“I know how.”
An arm reached from the shadows, boney fingers wrapping around Tabitha’s neck. Richard emerged, the shadows pulling toward him, composing his form. Kane went for him, swung, connected. Richard gave a shout as the blow seemed to rip him the rest of the way out of the dark, breaking his grip on Tabitha. Kane moved from under the pier, pulling Tabitha with him as Richard regained his composure and sprung for them, snarling like a wild dog.
“Go!” Kane shouted. He pulled Tabitha along as they ran, his hand tight around hers. The shadows grew darker as they ducked back into the woods.
Tendrils rose around them, dark and translucent. Kane dodged one as another made for Tabitha. She yelped and ducked as it sailed over her head. More rose from the grass, high and arching.
Kane halted, Tabitha stopping by his side as the shadows came together and formed a man in front of them, tall and gaunt.
Richard.
Another formed, and another. All of them in Richard’s form, each of them born of the darkness that swirled from the flora and fauna like black fire. They encircled Kane and Tabitha, grinning at them, each holding a Seeker in one hand and a long, serrated knife in the other.
“Can’t run, piggies,” one of the Richards said.
“Got you, now,” said another.
“Gonna play in your blood,” one of them said from behind.
Kane heard the telltale sound of blunderbusses being readied and aimed. He turned and saw Cliff and Garrett approaching, the troops with them taking aim. The Richards parted and let them through, melting away into thin air as they went. By the time Garrett stopped in front of Kane, his rifle aimed at Kane’s forehead, only one Richard remained.
“Well, I’ll be,” Cliff said as he stepped forward. He fingered the goggles hanging around Kane’s neck. “You two ain’t from ‘round here.”
“Let us go, and no one gets hurt,” Kane said, bristling as he stared down the rifle barrel into Garrett’s eyes. “Got bad news for you, jackass: you aren’t the first person to put a gun in my face.”
The man grunted, a smile forming on his lips, blackened and rotted teeth exposed.
“You so much as think something in whatever fucked up language you use, and I’ll cover your pretty little girlfriend here with your brains.”
“Back off, Garrett,” Cliff said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “They ain’t gonna do anything stupid.” He looked at Kane. “Might have to tell the Master there was an accident, otherwise.” He stepped up to Kane, looking him up and down. He was a head shorter than Kane, but heavier. “You’re a big fella.”
“Yeah, I work out,” Kane said, not holding back on the sarcasm. His eyes locked on Cliff’s. “Let us go.”
“No can-do,” Cliff said. “The Master’s got plans for your kind.”
“Kane!”
Kane turned at the sound of Tabitha’s voice. Richard towered over her, his hands on her shoulders as he sniffed at her hair like a feral animal.
Kane was in action before his mind could register what was happening. His fist connected with Richard’s face. The man went backward, his nose bleeding as he laughed maniacally.
“I want the female,” he hissed, staggering. His nose gushed blood that ran down his chin, bloodied his teeth as it got into his mouth when he spoke.
Cliff grinned as Kane turned, shielding Tabitha behind him. He glared at Cliff, wanting nothing more than to burn every one of them.
Cliff eyed Kane as he spoke.
“Let’s check with the Master, first.”
Chapter Four
Kane caught a glimpse of the sign as the horse-drawn wagons rattled and rolled behind the live beasts down the broken dirt road. The rope was tight around his wrists. He’d stopped trying to struggle against it, the hemp seeming to cut into his skin. The trees were tall, their branches large and sprawling overhead, the canopy of pine and palm fronds blocking most of the sun from the road. The shade was welcome, but the humidity was still unlike anything Kane had ever felt. The heat was suffocating.
Kane read the sign as they passed through the entrance to the plantation.
Welcome to Harbor Plantation. Joshua 24:15.
Kane shook his head. He’d heard that Christian religion was a much bigger affair in the South. The Southern Government had based their leadership on the teachings of the Bible and a Fundamentalist viewpoint. The original draft of the Constitution had missed the part about keeping the Church’s influence out of Federal function, and the Southern Oligarchs had jumped all over it to help lobby themselves in. Simply controlling the politicians wasn’t enough. It wasn’t much different than the Northern Oligarchs and how they’d used money and influence to take over. But, unlike the North, slaves had been a factor. The more an owner had, the more clout he would have in the ranks. The Southern Oligarchs hadn’t counted on the slaves organizing via the Underground Railroad.
Kane glanced at Tabitha. She’d gone quiet after the Hunters tied them up and put them aboard the cart. She was terrified, and he couldn’t blame her. They were completely out of their element. The South was a cesspit of mysteries that Kane had never seen before. During his stint in the cargo business, he’d never had reason to set foot off the airship when they landed to pick up supplies and materials for the North. He’d been in charge of inventory, and typically waited until the ship was loaded before he notated what was on board and reported to the Captain.
Only a few transports had carted live horses up North.
The horses pulling the cart were healthy and strong, a stark contrast to the more popular Clockwork Horses used in New Chicago and the other major cities in the North. They were large draft breeds, Brabants by Kane’s limited knowledge. Mountains of muscle that were good for pulling down tre
es and plowing fields.
Or pulling two kidnapped Magicians along in a cart.
Cliff and Garrett rode up front, Garrett driving the horses on with the reins in his hands. Richard sat quietly in the back, eyeing Tabitha hungrily as he licked his lips. Kane glared at him, but the madman just grinned at him and winked.
The gust of wind that swept through the trees startled the horses. They reared and screamed as the cart shook and tilted. Kane grabbed onto Tabitha and held fast to the railing as she wrapped her arms around him. The Hunters shouted, cursing as Cliff barked orders at them. The soldiers with them drew their blunderbusses and aimed high as a shadow loomed over them, blocking out the sun.
An airship.
“One of ours?!” Garret called over the roar of the turbines.
“No,” Cliff shouted back. “Revolution!”
The five Confederate soldiers took aim as a series of ropes dropped from the ship. Armed men in crew fatigues and breathing gear zipped down, their blunderbusses pointed and firing as the Special Forces fell to the ground bleeding from their wounds. Garett and Cliff ducked down off of the wagon bench. One of them pulled the peg and released the horses to run off. Kane pulled Tabitha to the floor of the cart, laid on top of her to shield her as a cluster of rounds went by, splintered the wood and missed their target.
Richard. Where was Richard?
A shape moved through the trees, black tendrils sweeping out and slashing at the crewmen as they landed. One of them screamed as his throat opened, clawed at the wound as blood soaked his shirt. Kane watched as another shadow passed and removed the man’s head from his neck.
“Shit,” he said. “Tabitha, we gotta move!” He tried to sit up, but a bullet whipped by his head, barely missed him. Kane ducked back down as Garrett called out to him.
“Stay down, asshole! You ain’t free!”
Kane looked up and saw more crewmen drop from the ship, their guns blazing. Something dark formed in front of him, stood at the back of the cart. The shadows molded and bent, formed into a man.
Gaslit Armageddon (Clockworks of War Book 2) Page 4