Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  “He can’t…sense Lock from there, can he?” she whispered to Grayson.

  “No.” Grayson never took his eyes off the man.

  “Then what caught his attention?” she demanded. “Or do ferromancers routinely stop in the middle of the street to stare around?”

  The corner of Grayson’s mouth curled upward, hinting at amusement, though he didn’t take his eyes from the bank—or answer her question.

  With a lurch, the boat started forward. Benji’s shouts of encouragement to the team echoed back across the water.

  “Hope this rudder holds,” Eli said.

  “Insulting,” Grayson muttered.

  “You can take your arm from around the captain,” Eli added.

  Briar’s attention had been so focused on Solon that she hadn’t noticed that Grayson still held her against the tiller deck.

  “Eli’s right,” she said when Grayson didn’t immediately move.

  “My apologies. Captain.” Grayson still looked amused, though he did take his arm from her shoulders.

  “Why do I feel like everything you say with that snooty accent is a joke at my expense?” she demanded.

  “You kidnapped me. You’ve given me no cause to address you with anything except derision, snooty accent notwithstanding.”

  “If you would take the tiller, Captain,” Eli spoke up, “I can tie the dog in the bunkhouse once more.”

  “I fixed your ship.” The coldness was back in Grayson’s tone.

  “Boat,” she corrected. “Because it benefited you.”

  “And you.”

  She started to get up, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. “A few minutes more. That red hair is distinctive. It might catch his attention.”

  Solon was still looking around, though to her relief, he seemed most interested in the street around him.

  “Can’t this heap of waterlogged timber go any faster?” Grayson demanded.

  They were already up to speed. “Four miles an hour is as fast as any boat is allowed to go,” she said.

  “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Any faster, and the wake would erode the bank.”

  Grayson just stared at her, clearly appalled.

  “What’s going on, Captain?” Eli asked.

  “See that man standing beside the hired coach?” she asked. When Eli agreed, she continued. “He’s a ferromancer. The real thing. He even has a hand made out of metal.”

  Eli paled. “And he’s meeting with Andrew?”

  “Yes, I don’t know why. It gets worse.”

  “How can this get worse?”

  “I kneed him.”

  “You do have a gift for trouble,” Eli muttered before turning his attention to the streets around them. “Stay down, Captain. We’ll be out of the city shortly.”

  “I just don’t understand what got his attention, “ she said to herself as she watched Solon.

  Abruptly, the ferromancer turned and climbed back into his carriage. A pause, and it rolled off, back into the small tangle of streets around the canal.

  Briar released a breath and was surprised to hear Grayson do the same. Carefully, she climbed to her feet and he rose beside her.

  “Captain? You want to take the tiller?” Eli asked.

  Wordlessly, Grayson offered his wrists.

  Briar frowned, feeling guilty about holding a man against his will. But if she could prove that the railroad was using ferromancer technology to further its empire, she had to do it. Even if Mr. Martel proved to not be a ferromancer, Solon certainly was. And with her cousin’s clandestine meeting with him, there had to be a connection.

  She took the tiller and glanced back at the town they were leaving. She didn’t watch Eli lead Grayson away.

  * * *

  Briar propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hand. The lantern swayed with the gentle rocking of the boat, casting its light across the ledger she was supposed to be updating. They had tied up for the night, not wanting to chance a sandbar or submerged log in the darkness. Eli feared the rudder repair wouldn’t survive a collision. They would reach Chillicothe by morning and have it repaired properly.

  With a sigh, Briar leaned back in her seat. “What do you think, Lock?”

  The little dragon looked up from where he sat on one corner of the table, his gem-like eyes seeming to question her.

  “I feel bad about tying him up, but what am I to do?”

  Lock hopped across the ledger, then climbed her arm to reach her shoulder. With a soulful moan, he rubbed his cheek against hers.

  She smiled at the gesture of comfort, then rubbed him beneath his chin. “Mr. Martel must be a gentle soul if you’re part of him.”

  Lock cooed.

  “Of course, that also means Grayson lied. He didn’t buy you in London. Perhaps he stole you from Solon there?”

  Lock just rubbed her cheek with his.

  “What a shame you can’t talk. I would love to know more—about both men.” She remembered the beauty of the locomotive she’d seen in Portsmouth. Mr. Martel was an artist. What a shame he was a ferromancer.

  She got to her feet and after pausing to rub out the stiffness in her lower back, she closed the ledger and returned it to the shelf above the table.

  Changing into her nightgown, she extinguished the lantern and climbed into her bunk.

  Lock crawled up the blanket and curled up on her pillow. She fell asleep stroking his glossy scales.

  * * *

  Briar woke at dawn—which was later than her customary time to rise—not feeling very well rested. Her sleep had been fitful and she had woken often. Each time she did, Lock would snuggle closer, ultimately making a bed in her hair. How his fine claws and intricate scales and joints didn’t become entangled in it, she had no idea.

  Leaving her cabin, she headed for the bow to rouse the crew—if they weren’t already up. Crossing the catwalk, she glanced down into the cargo hold. Last night, Eli had returned Mr. Grayson to the bales of hay where he’d been originally tied, but at the moment, they were empty.

  She hurried toward the front of the boat, noticing for the first time the absence of her crew. Though with the night run the night before last, they had likely been as exhausted as she was.

  Reaching the bunkhouse in the bow, she rapped on the hatch. Had Mr. Grayson escaped while the crew slept?

  When no one answered her summons, she began to fear something more sinister. Had Grayson escaped and killed the crew? Why hadn’t he come for the trunk—or her?

  In the quiet, she heard the low rumble of male voices. She backtracked to the stable at midship. Dropping to the lower level, she stepped up to the door and found Zach and Benji inside, tending the mules.

  “Hey, boys,” she greeted them. “Where’s the rest of the crew—and our guest?”

  Zach elbowed his brother. Unable to speak, Zach had to rely on Benji for communication—which made it hard since fifteen-year-old Benji tended to turn bright red and go mute around her as well.

  “They took the prisoner into the woods,” Benji answered.

  “Why?”

  “I, um, think they went looking for an outhouse, Captain.” Benji’s cheeks turned pink.

  “Oh.” She hadn’t stopped to consider that. “I guess our passenger amenities leave something to be desired.”

  Zach nodded, a faint frown on his features, giving Briar the distinct impression that he wasn’t pleased with the way she had handled this.

  She sighed. He was right.

  “In the absence of Jimmy, I guess I’d better go start breakfast.”

  Zach gave her an alarmed look.

  “I know. But I didn’t get a chance to advertise for a new cook.” Mrs. Jenkins, the elderly woman who had been cooking for Briar and her crew since before her uncle passed away, had decided to retire and move in with her daughter in Millport. They’d had a rough time since then.

  By the time Jimmy returned, she had burned the bacon, and her attempt at eggs had yielded
a runny goo dotted with bits of shells.

  The crew ate in polite silence, but Briar knew they were as disgusted as she was.

  “We’ll dock in Chillicothe to fix the rudder,” she said as Jimmy gathered the dirty dishes, most with food still on them. “Let’s ask around and see if we can’t find a cook.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Jimmy said, taking her plate last. She’d left just as much food as the others. “We’ll—” He didn’t get to finish his statement as a thump followed by the sound of breaking dishes came from below decks.

  “Damnation!” Grayson’s angry shout carried to them.

  Eli immediately came to his feet.

  Briar stepped into his path. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “Captain,” Eli began.

  “I think you’ve tormented the poor man enough.”

  Eli frowned. “He’s a dangerous man, Captain.”

  She studied him. “Is there more to this? You seem to have taken a particular dislike to him. He’s just an engineer’s valet.”

  Eli crossed his large arms. “He doesn’t fight like a valet.”

  Briar lifted a brow. “I assume you refer to your initial confrontation? He may not be a valet at all. He might be a bodyguard.” He was very protective of his employer’s belongings, though she wasn’t so certain that bodyguards packed trunks.

  She moved past Eli, but his large hand came to rest on her shoulder.

  “I wish you would listen to me,” he said softly.

  “Why start now?” She gave him a smile to let him know she was teasing. “I’ll be fine. He’s not going to molest me on my own boat.”

  Eli sighed and took his hand from her shoulder. “Call if you need assistance.”

  “Ever the big brother.” She smiled and shook her head, then left him standing there. Much like Andrew, Eli hadn’t yet noticed that she had grown up.

  * * *

  Briar found Mr. Grayson on his feet, pacing at the end of the rope that secured his hands and bound him to the side of the cargo hold. At least, Eli had bound his hands in front of him today.

  The remains of his breakfast plate were on the other side of the cargo hold, a trail of runny eggs and charred bacon marking its flight across the hold.

  She bent to retrieve the pieces of broken plate, and when she straightened, Grayson had stopped his pacing to glare at her.

  “Have you come to torment your caged beast?” he demanded.

  “You are acting like one.”

  “I have done you no ill. As a matter of fact, I helped you. Yet you treat me like an animal. No, I’ve seen your mules. You treat me worse than an animal.”

  She sighed. “Look, I know the conditions aren’t the best—”

  “I’m sleeping on a bale of hay. I’ve worn the same clothes for two days, and I can’t take a piss unless someone holds my—” He stopped, seeming to remember who he was speaking to.

  There was some truth to what he said, and she certainly wasn’t proud of how things had transpired. “I’m really only interested in those plans.” She studied him. “I don’t have to take you, but if I release you, you’ll run back to your master and—”

  “No man is my master.” He regarded her with those cold eyes as if debating whether to do her some harm. With that look in his eye, she wondered if Eli might be right about him.

  “We’ll be docking in Chillicothe. I aim to get the rudder repaired, so it could be a lengthy stop.” She studied him. “I could have the boys take you into town.”

  “And what? Pummel me in a back alley so they don’t get blood on your precious boat.”

  “Take you to the Valley House Hotel. They have hot baths—and a laundry service. My treat.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch.” She let her anger out a notch. “I never wanted any of this, but I’m not going to stand by and let some damn ferromancer and the railroad he works for destroy my way of life. If you have ever fought for something that was important to you, then you might understand. And if you’re just an innocent caught in the middle of this, then I’m truly sorry, but I’ve never backed down from a fight, and I’m not going to start now.”

  He didn’t respond, but he looked a little less angry.

  “As for the breakfast,” she continued, “my cook retired last week, and I’ve yet to hire on a new one. Your breakfast was no different from what the rest of us ate—or tried to.”

  “There’s no one on this boat who can fry an egg?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  “That is sad.”

  “And I suppose you could?” she demanded.

  “Unless you prefer your egg poached, perhaps with a hollandaise sauce?”

  She had no idea what he was talking about, but wasn’t about to admit it. She arched a brow instead.

  “I’d be happy to demonstrate.” He held out his bound hands.

  She sighed. “I can’t release you.”

  He dropped his hands. “I won’t leave without the construct.”

  She placed a hand over the pocket where Lock hid. “You mean this piece of Mr. Martel? Why are you so set on protecting him?”

  “Why are you so set on destroying him?”

  “I’ve given you my reason, but I’ve yet to hear yours. Why would you serve a man who can lock your soul in iron?”

  “You know nothing about any of this.”

  “Then educate me.”

  He pressed his lips together, studying her. For a moment, she thought he might speak, but his shoulders dropped a moment later and he remained silent.

  “That’s what I thought.” She turned away. “I’ll send someone down for you when we arrive,” she said over her shoulder.

  He didn’t respond.

  She left him standing there and went to get the crew moving. The sooner this errand was finished, the sooner she could get back to her life.

  6

  Chillicothe was larger, and much busier than Waverly had been. It also supported a more varied market and offered more services, especially to the canal industry. Fortunately, the parts for the rudder were readily available, and there wasn’t much of a wait for the repair. Aside from the expense, it would be a relatively painless process.

  She had expected Grayson to take her up on her offer immediately, but he stayed around to watch the rudder repairs. She wondered at that until he stepped forward to collect the metal pieces he’d used for the temporary fix. Were they valuable? Or would he get in trouble if Mr. Martel found something missing?

  Once the small pieces were tucked in his pocket, he was happy to depart with Zach and Benji for his promised bath.

  “Are you certain about this?” Eli frowned after Grayson.

  “He’s my problem,” she snapped, tired of the constant nagging. “Stay with the boat. I’m going to find us some cargo—and maybe a cook.”

  “Miss Briar,” Eli tried to stop her.

  “Let it be.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond before walking off.

  * * *

  The stop proved to be a profitable one when Jimmy was able to secure a load of bricks and some lumber for the trip north. They would no longer be running light, but the time frame for the delivery was reasonable and Briar expected no problems.

  By mid-afternoon, the boat repairs were finished and they were able to begin loading the cargo. With both holds filled with lumber and brick, Briar realized she’d have to find a new place for Mr. Grayson. The crew’s cabin only held four bunks, and those were occupied. The stables were out, and Briar hoped the cook’s bunk in her cabin would soon be occupied. It looked like Mr. Grayson would have to make do with the deck, which should suit him fine. The crew often slept on the deck on warm summer nights—provided it didn’t rain.

  Briar glanced up at the blue sky overhead. It certainly didn’t promise rain anytime soon.

  A jingle of tack made her glance over, and she was surprised to see Benji leading one of the mules ashore.

  “Did Mr. Grayson finally
finish his bath?” she asked him. “That took long enough.”

  “I believe he was waiting for his clothes to be laundered.”

  She grunted. “Is Zach still with him?”

  “Yes, waiting at his door.”

  She sighed. “I guess I need to go get his dandy butt moving.” They were ready to shove off. “Go ahead and hitch up the team. We’ll head out as soon as I return.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  She left him to field any questions the crew might have as to her whereabouts, and went to round up her squeaky clean passenger.

  The baths were located at the back of the Valley House Hotel. Briar had visited more than once when docked for the night and not in the mood to haul her own hot water.

  She found the attendant folding a stack of freshly laundered towels. “Bath, ma’am?”

  “No. I’ve come to collect a crewman. The name’s Grayson.”

  “The handsome gentleman in the fine clothes?” The attendant’s eyebrows lifted. “He didn’t look like a boatman.”

  He certainly dressed like a gentleman, but she wasn’t so sure about the rest of it. “He’s more passenger than crewman. Which room?”

  “Room two.” The girl handed her a stack of towels. “He’ll be wanting these.”

  Briar started to point out that she wasn’t here to bring him a towel, but figured it was easier than sending the attendant in a dozen times to get him moving.

  Tucking the towels under her arm, she thanked the girl and went in search of room two. She found it at the end of the hall, but to her surprise, Zach wasn’t waiting outside the door.

  A bit of unease tightened her stomach as she remembered Eli’s warnings. If Grayson had taken advantage of Zach…

  She knocked on the door.

  “Yes, come in.” Grayson called out, his accent making it clear she had the right room.

  She opened the door and stepped inside. The small room was steamy and uncomfortably warm, the stone floor slick with moisture. A curtained partition blocked half the small room from view, including the large brass tub she knew rested on the other side.

  The door closed behind her with a soft click.