Kane looked at Gentry, then back to Richard as it all came together in his mind.
“You…”
“This attack was orchestrated long before you became a true nuisance, Mr. Shepherd,” Gentry said. “Your delving into the Mors Rebrum murders was the beginning of your end. Sarah Broussard was a mistake. One I’m not willing to repeat.” He looked back at Anderson. “It became clear that the Revolution intended to recruit you, Miss Drake, and Dr. Jones into their ranks. Use Magicians to fight.” He looked back at Kane and smiled. “I just needed to stand by and let the Wendigo do it’s intended job.”
Kane looked at Anderson, the General still struggling against the wind that held her in the air.
“Put the General down,” he said. “She has nothing to do with this.”
Gentry looked at Anderson.
“Oh. That.”
He swung his arm and send Anderson flying. Kane shouted as she went sailing by like a cannonball.
“No!”
She smashed through a doorway into an old shop. Kane listened for any sign of her being alive. Nothing.
“I’ll not underestimate you again,” Gentry said. “Richard, do meet me on the Battle Cruiser when you have dispatched Mr. Shepherd. I must send word to President Frostmeyer that the Revolution is no more.”
“As you wish,” Richard said. He rushed Kane, his knife glinted in the moonlight. Kane blocked the swipe and fired a blast at Richard, sending the Wraith backward.
Kane spun to attack Gentry.
Gone, the breeze settling where he’d been standing.
Richard came at him again. Kane fired more fireballs at him, cast his Ethereal Shield just as Richard was going for his throat. The blade glanced off the shield, knocking Richard of balance. Kane killed it, landed a solid punch to Richard’s face, and kicked his kneecap out from under him. Richard went down.
Kane reactivated his amulet in a flash.
“Ethereal Infernus!”
The fire spout erupted from the ground underneath Richard. He rolled, but the spout caught his arm full-force. The man screamed in agony as his arm burned. He waved it around, slapped at it frantically.
“Ethereal Incindio!”
A spout of fire shot from Kane’s hand in a steady stream, aimed at Richard’s face. The man glared at Kane, his mouth spreading into a wicked grin as he vanished from sight. The fire hit the ground and spread like burning water. Kane stopped, wiped his amulet clean.
“Damn,” he muttered.
Something caught his attention, a low sound carried on the air. Anderson groaning. Kane turned and took off toward the small shop in a sprint. He rushed through the open doorway, finding Anderson quickly in what was apparently once a fishing tack supply. She sat against a pile of rubble, slumped over with a harpoon sticking out of her chest from behind.
Kane went to her, looked her over. The harpoon had likely fallen off the shelf at some point, sticking straight out when she’d hit it.
He could hear her heartbeat slowing, her breathing ragged. She’d punctured a lung.
She looked up at him, laughed weakly.
“She said you’d be along,” she said. “Figured…I’d stick around for a little longer.”
“She?”
“The…Marsh Witch.”
Wilhelmina. Kane looked around the shop. Nothing.
“She’s gone,” Anderson said, her voice thick. Blood ran from her mouth, her eyes unfocused. “She told me…Shepherd.”
Kane looked down.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said. “It…that moment. So much went through my mind. I couldn’t stop it.”
She nodded.
“I know that, Shepherd. The Revolution is done. Get out of here. She said…said you have to go back North. Said you…it’s on you now.”
“She was dying,” Kane said, a tear running down his face.
Anderson nodded weakly.
“You made the right…decision.” Her head lolled to the side, her chest collapsing with a last breath as her heart stopped beating in Kane’s ears.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kane ran toward Anderson’s house, the sounds of combat growing louder as he turned the corner and made his way along the Battery. The acrid stench of smoke and ash mixed with the saline in the air, harsh and nauseating.
Troops fired at civilians, the civilians that could fought back while shouting to their families to make for the airships. Get to safety. Don’t look back. No, pa. Come with us.
Kane focused his hearing ahead to the house, a knot in his throat. He couldn’t help. Couldn’t shift, like Tabitha. Couldn’t rush in to save them. It wasn’t one or two families close by.
The nightmare was all over the city.
Something exploded in the distance, the force sending a tremor in the ground under Kane’s feet. He stopped, looking around for the source of the sound. Nothing nearby. He redirected his hearing. Shouts. Gunfire. Move out. Make for the ships. Fall back, this city is done.
Turbines. Big turbines.
The Battle Cruiser.
“Aspectu aethereo.”
Kane’s vision changed over, the world shimmering around him as it went to black and white. He concentrated, remembered what he’d done on the Jezebel what seemed like years ago. He opened his eyes, his sight rushing forward, past buildings and structure fires. Up. Look up.
The behemoth loomed over the city, the Battle Cruiser low as a large church tower fell under a hail of cannon fire. A bay opened on the bottom of the cruiser, something large dropping from below. The bomb hit the ground, the explosion shaking the ground again. Streams of orange and red blew from two ports in the front like geysers, bathing the city below in liquid fire. The new Napalm cannons Kane had only heard rumors about a year before. Had pushed it away. No one could be that evil.
Wrong again, Shepherd.
He went to wipe the amulet, then thought better of it. Richard could be anywhere. There could be a situation at the house.
“Visus Mortalis.” Mortal Sight.
His sight rushed back in, the world going to normal. He picked up a jog as he made for the house. He let his hearing move ahead. Heard Farnsworth shouting almost immediately.
“Move, lass!”
Tabitha’s voice rang clear.
“I don’t remember inviting you guys in.”
A blast. Men shouting. Ice breaking.
Kane broke into a full sprint, took the front steps two at a time as he hurled a large fireball. The doors blew inwards, knocking down two soldiers. The others spun to open fire, but Kane already had fireballs flying at them. The balls hit the men in the chest, knocked them backward. One ducked and rushed Kane, a baton out and raised to strike. Kane sidestepped him, knocked his arm away, shoved him into the wall. The man regained his footing quickly, rushed Kane again, and was met with a foot to the stomach. He bent over double, heaving. Kane grabbed him and yanked him head-first into the wall. The trooper went down, and Kane kicked him square in his masked face, making his attacker go limp instantly.
He looked around, listened for more fighting inside the house. Smoke. Close by.
Inside the house.
Shit!
“Tabitha! Farnsworth!”
Tabitha’s voice called back to him from the study.
“In here!”
“We could use a hand, Mr. Shepherd!”
Kane made for the study, conjuring two more fireballs as he went. A hole blasted through the doors, and he ducked as a cluster of bullets buried themselves in the wall near his head. He threw the fireballs at the doors, blasting them out of the way. Two Special Forces troopers turned and looked at him, aimed their blunderbusses.
“Hold it, freak,” one said.
Kane held his hands up.
“You guys don’t have to worry about me.”
Farnsworth roared as he charged the two men from behind. The massive black man grabbed each one by the head, smashed their helmets together in one motion, the sound like two large eggs b
eing cracked open. He brought them apart, then smashed them together again before picking one up and slamming him down on Anderson’s desk hard enough to collapsed it. Farnsworth spun, grabbed the other by legs, and slammed him down on his comrade twice before letting the limp soldier lay still.
Kane looked at the two dead soldiers and shook his head.
“My friend, not so much.”
“Kane!” Tabitha ran to Kane, the two Grimoires tucked in her arms. She wrapped her other arm around him in a quick hug, stepped back looking him up and down. “You look like hell.”
“I feel like hell,” Kane said. He looked at Farnsworth. “Anderson is dead. Gentry killed her.”
Farnsworth looked back at him, still breathing heavily from his attack. His chest heaved, his jaw set as he squared his shoulders. Kane saw the man’s lower lip tremble slightly, a tear escape his eye. Now wasn’t the time.
Farnsworth nodded solemnly.
“What say you, Mr. Shepherd?”
“Where’s Wilson?”
“The airfield. Miss Drake was able to save him and Benson. Maybe two or three others. He’s prepping our airship, aiding with the other transports.”
“The house is on fire,” Tabitha said. “Upstairs. They were burning it when I got her. It hasn’t gotten down here yet.”
Kane looked up, saw a large patch of brown forming on the ceiling. It was a matter of time.
Something moved in the room. Breathing.
Kane looked at Tabitha. “Get him to the airfield. Come back for me.”
“I think I can take both of you,” Tabitha said, pulling her amulet out. “It’s a little warm, but it can take it.”
“Not worth the risk,” Kane said. “He can fly the airship, I can’t. Get him there. I’ll be okay.”
Tabitha nodded, grabbed Farnsworth by the arm.
“Draugalega Ferðast!”
The two of them blinked out of sight, the chill in the air welcome against the heat as the ceiling began to smoke above Kane. He looked around the room, the light from the fireplace and gas lights around the room flickering.
The shadows came to life and rushed Kane, forming into Richard just as the maniac slashed at Kane with his knife, his eyes wide with crazed fury. Kane ducked the attack, jabbed Richard in his burned arm. The man howled in pain, staggered backward, the shadows moving away from him and the room going back to normal.
“Did I break your concentration?” Kane asked.
Creaking from above. Plaster dropping down. Kane and Richard both looked up as the ceiling cracked, broke open, fire and burning debris raining down from the second floor. Kane tucked and rolled out of the way, conjured a fireball in his hand as he got to his feet. The rug caught fire where they’d been standing only a second ago. Ash and ember hit the curtains, the fabric going up in flames. Kane heard a shout as Richard came out of the fire, his knife high. Kane launched the fireball, but Richard went to shadow and dodged it easily. The shadow rushed Kane, another swipe from the knife, the blade cutting into Kane’s arm as he tried to duck out of the way. Richard formed up again, took another slash at Kane. Kane blocked it, tried to bat the knife out of Richard’s hand. Missed. A swirl of shadow. An arm around Kane’s neck from behind. Pain in his side, white hot. A twist. Ribs moving, chest sore. Kane’s breaths went shallow, the pain in his left side and the left side of his chest staggering. His knees went weak as Richard yanked the knife free of Kane’s lung and ribcage and shoved him to the floor. The fire in the room was up the walls, the books on the shelves swallowed in flames, the heat making the pain worse.
Kane rolled onto his back, tried to catch his breath, his chest tight. Richard stood over him, grinning.
“Little piggy can’t breathe,” he chided. “Broke its wind bag. Oh, dear.”
Kane tried to form words, coughed on the blood filling his throat and mouth. Richard looked around the burning room.
“I could finish you now,” he said. “Or let the fire take you. I can’t decide.”
Kane tried to sit up, struggled against the pain. It was too much. Needed to much air to move. More than he could muster. He felt sleepy, the smoke hot in his nose and working lung, the air growing thinner as Richard looked back down at him, knelt next to him and leaned in close.
“All you had to do was kill your friends. End the Revolution for us.”
“Ha…happy to dis…appoint…” Kane managed, his voice a rasp.
Richard grinned at him.
“You won’t make it, piggy. You won’t see me kill the President. See my father take over New Chicago Steel. The Northern Union. The country.” Richard leaned in closer, his voice a whisper. “I’m going to have fun with your woman when I find her, piggy.”
Kane grit his teeth, tried to reach for the bastard’s neck. Too much. His arm weighed too much. He was bleeding out. This was it. His prayers began to circle in his mind. Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hail Mary, full of Grace. Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Richard shouted as a blast of cold drove away the heat, the chill biting Kane’s skin. The Shadow Wraith jumped backward as an ice spear hit the floor where he’d once stood. Kane felt a groan escape him as Tabitha lay across him, held onto him tightly as she shouted her spell.
Everything seemed to draw in, the room, the fire, even sound before a deafening blast of arctic cold blew out around Kane and Tabitha. The house shook, debris falling everywhere, the cold and ice doing nothing to stop the fire. Tabitha cast again, and Kane felt the cold rush of wind as he was yanked from the floor. His head lolled to the side, and he saw the house collapsing in fire, the wreckage getting smaller by the split second. City. Grass. Trees. Airfield. People screaming and running. Gunships.
Kane felt the cold steel beneath him, the metal made colder from Tabitha’s shift. She shouted something to Farnsworth, put her hands over Kane’s chest.
“Draugalega Heilun!”
The cold was brutal, the pain unbearable. Kane screamed, the vision of blood and meat freezing crossing his mind as Tabitha’s hand glowed cold blue.
“I’m sorry,” she said, openly weeping. “Oh Gods, please work! Please!”
Bone shifted back into place, muscle tightened again. Kane breathed in, both of his lungs expanding, filling with air. He had strength again.
Her amulet.
“Stop,” he said, swatting at her. “Stop! Your amulet!”
“You’re still bleeding!”
“I’ll be okay! Stop!” He sat up, pushed her away, breaking the spell. She landed on her rump and yelped as she pulled the hot amulet out of her pants pocket and dropped it on the deck. Kane moved over to it, picked it up as it began to cool instantly. He looked it over.
No cracks, but the gears were glowing.
He wiped the amulet on the back of her hand. She looked up at him, her face tear-stroked, her eyes lowering down to his chest. Kane looked down, saw the blood stain on his shirt, his skin still broken from the stab wound. It was bad, bleeding but not what it had been. He’d make it.
“You just got this back,” he said, holding the amulet out to her. “Take care of it. Are you okay?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck in a fierce hug, weeping loudly, her body tense and trembling.
“I almost lost you,” she said through the tears. “Again. Worse this time.”
A blast rocked the ship. Kane looked around the room. They were in a storage area. Farnsworth’s voice squawked over the speaker com.
“All hands make ready! Enemy forces are here! Mr. Benson, the boilers, sir! Mr. Wilson, have four souls man the cannons!”
“Four?” Kane shook his head. “Let’s get to the bridge. This isn’t over.”
* * *
Kane was on the bridge quicker than he expected. The ship was small, maybe small enough to fit inside the Jezebel.
“Mr. Shepherd!” Farnsworth nodded. “Good to see you made it in time! Ghastly wound you have there.”
“I’ll live,” Kane said.
Farnsworth shook his head.
“That’s still questionable for all of us.” He pulled back on the captain’s wheel, the ship lurching into the air as the turbines howled outside. Kane and Tabitha braced themselves, holding onto the guardrail as the ship moved into the sky. Kane looked down at the airfield, saw people scattering as troops mowed down Revolutionaries while other transports began to lift off.
Wilson entered through a hatch in the floor opposite the room from Kane and Tabitha. He nodded to Kane, looked at Farnsworth. The kid looked panicked.
“All four cannons at the ready, Captain!”
“Four cannons aren’t going to shoot down a Battle Cruiser or a battalion of gunships,” Kane said. “You’re crazy, Farnsworth!”
Farnsworth fetched Kane a solemn glance. He spoke quietly, his voice dark.
“Four will be enough to help us escape, Mr. Shepherd.”
“Escape?”
“We’re lost, Mr. Shepherd,” Farnsworth said, gesturing at the observation window at the front. “The Revolution is over.”
Kane moved to the front as the ship picked up speed. A Special Forces gunship fired on a grounded transport as people were filing on. The transport collapsed under the attack, catching fire, people scattering and screaming as more troops flooded the airfield, blunderbusses blazing. A platoon of soldiers marched on the airfield, their flamethrowers bathing shelters, airships, and civilians in napalm fire as they marched. One caught a round in the head, but the others turned their fire to the gunman, his screams caught short as his body was burned to ash instantly. Kane looked ahead as Farnsworth steered the ship hard starboard and toward the city.
“Farnsworth, there’s a Battle Cruiser over the city,” Kane shouted.
“We don’t have a choice, sir,” Wilson said, manning the periscope next to the captain. “We’re cut off everywhere else! Their fire is concentrated on the city.”
“It’s the only window we have to save our skins, Mr. Shepherd,” Farnsworth said. “I’ve taken on more civilians than I should have! We have to get them to safety!”
Kane turned back to the window, saw the Battle Cruiser in front of them. Cannons barked, buildings collapsed as the fires roared from the city below, the flames almost reaching the airship as spouts of napalm continued to pour from her ports.
Gaslit Armageddon (Clockworks of War Book 2) Page 25