Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  Grayson’s eyes met hers, his tone soft when he answered. “He’s Scourge.”

  19

  Briar turned to stare at the man she’d known pretty much her entire life. “Is that true?” she asked Liam.

  “Briar, please, step over here by me.” Liam didn’t take his gun off Grayson. “I won’t let him hold you captive any longer.”

  “No, he’s telling the truth. I kidnapped him, stole his plans, and sent them to you for inspection.”

  “He’s Martel?” Liam asked.

  “Yes.” She had been unaware of that fact when she retrieved the plans earlier today, or was that now yesterday. God, what a long day—and night.

  “As unlikely as it sounds, that’s the truth of it.” Grayson’s knuckles were white where he clung to the door. Briar wondered why Liam continued to hold a gun on a man who looked ready to collapse. “I have no design on you or yours, sir,” Grayson added.

  “He’s telling the truth, Uncle Liam,” Briar added.

  “Liam… Adams?” Grayson must have remembered Briar mentioning his name.

  “McAdams,” Liam clarified.

  “What—” Briar didn’t get to finish.

  “Bloody hell,” Grayson muttered. “Fitting.” His eyes rolled back, and he released the doorframe. He slumped to the deck with a soft thump.

  “What did you do?” Briar demanded of Liam.

  “Nothing.” He lowered the gun.

  She gave him a frown, then hurried to Grayson. He lay on his side, half in and half out of her cabin doorway. She gripped his cold shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. “Grayson?”

  It seemed he had passed out again.

  “Dear God,” Liam said from above her. He was staring at Grayson’s back. “The missing drake.”

  Briar glanced up. “Drake?” She remembered Solon calling him that.

  “It means dragon,” Liam answered. “Ferromancers are named for the form their construct takes.”

  Grayson had called Solon Leon. She had a strong suspicion that meant lion.

  “He must have used the name Martel to hide what he is,” Liam added.

  Did he? Or was Grayson honoring the old watchmaker he had admired?

  Liam shifted a little closer, his gun still trained on Grayson.

  Briar glared up at him. “Would you please put that gun away? He’s not even conscious.” She turned back to Grayson. “Eli, could you help me get him back into the cook’s bunk?”

  Eli spared Liam a worried glance, but came forward to do as she asked.

  “No, Briar,” Liam spoke up. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

  She looked up and was shocked to see that he still held his gun. “Uncle Liam?” Was he really going to shoot Grayson?

  Someone was crossing the gangplank. Briar glanced over, expecting Benji or Zach, and was shocked to see Agatha step onto her boat. It wasn’t so shocking that she was here, but what she was wearing. Agatha was dressed much like Briar in trousers and man’s style coat—though both fit as if they had been made for her.

  “Put away the gun, Liam,” she said. “The young man is hardly a threat.”

  “He’s a drake, Aggie,” Liam argued, though he did slip the gun beneath his coat.

  “A drake who doesn’t look like his final casting is going to take.” Agatha’s gaze met Briar’s, her expression sad.

  Briar rose to her feet, seeing an ally in Agatha. “Another ferromancer forced this on him by throwing him in a vat of molten iron. Is there anything we can do for him?”

  Agatha gripped her shoulder, her expression still sad. “No, Briar, there’s not. He’ll either pull through on his own or he won’t.” She took a breath and released it. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it will be better if he doesn’t survive this.”

  Briar couldn’t believe kind-hearted Agatha—who would catch and release a spider rather than smash it—would say such a thing. “Well, I’m not giving up on him.” She turned away. “Eli?”

  Eli still looked worried, but he gave her a nod and carefully picked Grayson up.

  Briar looked up to find Jimmy standing on the deck above her. She hated that he’d had to learn that Grayson was a ferromancer this way. By his wide eyes, she could see that he was stunned.

  “Jimmy, are you still with me?”

  “Of course, Captain,” he responded immediately.

  “Would you please dump my cousin on the dock, then prepare to cast off?”

  Jimmy nodded, then hopped down from the deck above them. He eyed Andrew. “Is he dead or not?”

  “He’s soulless,” she answered. “I’m guessing dead is better.”

  Jimmy swallowed, then reached down to pull him upright. Zach hurried across the gangplank, then bent to give Jimmy a hand.

  “Thank you, Zach,” she said to him.

  Zach just nodded and continued with the task.

  Briar turned back to Liam and Agatha. “I’m leaving. Are you going to try to stop me?”

  “No,” Agatha said.

  “We’re going with you,” Liam added.

  Briar frowned. Did he intend to stick around in case Grayson did survive? “You’re really part of the Scourge?” she asked.

  “In a past life,” Liam answered. “One I thought I had left behind.”

  This was so surreal. He had always seemed so harmless. Her kindly godfather who spent rainy afternoons making crazy contraptions with her in his workshop.

  Briar took a breath. “If you’re staying, give me the pistol. Otherwise, I must ask you to leave.” She held out her hand.

  Liam glanced at Agatha, and at her nod, pulled the pistol from beneath his coat. But he didn’t immediately hand it to her. Instead, he turned the small gun on its side. “See this switch?” He pointed to the tiny lever just above the trigger.

  “Yes?”

  “When it’s pushed forward, as it is now, the gun cannot fire.”

  “All right.”

  “Always keep it in this position when it’s in your pocket.”

  It was almost funny that he was instructing her about the weapon he intended to use to shoot her friend. God, she was so tired. “I understand.” She accepted the weapon from him.

  Flicking the switch he’d shown her, she turned and held the weapon on him.

  “Briar?” Liam’s eyes widened.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you’re just sticking around to see if Grayson survives, but I’m not going to let you kill him. He deserves a chance at life, just like any man.”

  “He’s not a man.”

  “Please. Just go.”

  “You don’t understand,” Liam continued.

  “Probably not, but is that my fault or yours?”

  Liam sighed. “If you’re doing this because you’re angry at me—”

  “I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen, Briar. You have no idea what a fully cast ferromancer is capable of doing.”

  She shrugged. “Guess I’ll find out.”

  “Briar—”

  “Let her be, Liam.” Agatha laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll go, Briar, but know that we’re only trying to protect you. This never ends well, my child.”

  “I have to try,” she whispered.

  “I know.” Agatha slipped her arm in Liam’s.

  “Use the gun if you have to,” Liam said. With those chilling words, they left the boat.

  * * *

  They made it out of Columbus without incident. Just another boat among many, making their way along the canal.

  Briar trusted her crew to get them out of town and traverse the dark waterway. She remained in her over-warm cabin, trying to help Grayson.

  Retrieving a bowl of water and a cloth, she sat down on the edge of the bed and began to carefully clean the wounds around the metal fins protruding from his upper back. One finger brushed the inner curve of one, and she gasped as it sliced her knuckle with ease. Grayson groaned.


  “Grayson?” She gripped his cold shoulder.

  “Scourge,” he breathed, a note of alarm in his soft voice.

  “He’s gone,” she said. “I didn’t know. He never told me.”

  Grayson didn’t respond.

  “Hey, you still with me?” She gave his shoulder a small shake, but it seemed he’d slipped into unconsciousness once more.

  She took a moment to dab her bleeding knuckle with her rag, then went back to trying to help him. He was going to survive this; there wasn’t any other option.

  * * *

  Exhausted, Briar collapsed on her own bunk some time in the early morning hours, but remained dressed with her curtain open should he wake and call out during the night.

  The light was just brightening the curtains on the cabin windows when she woke. A brief moment of confusion, and she remembered the events of the day before with painful clarity.

  Hurrying back into the main part of the cabin, she stumbled to a stop. Zach sat on the side of Grayson’s bed, blotting his forehead with a cloth. But Zach sprang to his feet when he saw her.

  “You’re fine.” She walked to the bunk. “How is he? Did he wake any?”

  Zach shook his head.

  She sighed and touched Grayson’s forehead. His skin was still ice cold, but the edges of his dark hair were wet with sweat.

  Grayson groaned, and his hand fisted against the sheets.

  “He acts like he’s in pain.” She looked up at Zach and he nodded.

  She turned back to Grayson, feeling worthless with her inability to help him.

  A knock at the door made her look up to see Jimmy standing on the threshold.

  “How’s the human pin cushion?” Jimmy asked.

  She smiled at his attempt at humor, but her smile didn’t last. “Not good.” She walked over to him. “Are you upset that I didn’t mention that he was a ferromancer? I only found out myself after Solon took him, but I wanted Grayson to be the one to tell.”

  “It’s all right, Captain. It’s good of you to keep a man’s secret like that. None of the crew blames you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jimmy cleared his throat. “I thought I’d give breakfast a go. I watched Grayson make the last couple of meals.”

  “Until he recovers, you’re the best we got,” she said, trying for an encouraging tone. If Grayson did recover, she doubted a ferromancer would want to remain cook on a canal boat.

  * * *

  Breakfast turned out better than she expected—which meant it was edible. Jimmy’s cooking talent exceeded hers, but he was still a long way from matching Grayson’s skills at the stove.

  They took breakfast on the deck as usual, calling Benji in from the towpath for the meal. Zach had remained at Grayson’s side, seeming to have appointed himself his nursemaid. And judging by the silence at the breakfast table, the rest of the crew was equally concerned. Even Eli was subdued.

  “Do you think we should seek out a doctor?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Can a doctor help him?” Jimmy asked. “His ain’t a common ailment. At least, not in these parts.”

  She returned her fork to her plate, her appetite gone. She pressed a hand to her pocket where Lock hid. With the constant company in her cabin, she hadn’t been able to comfort him.

  A thump came from below them in her cabin.

  “What was—” Jimmy didn’t get to finish as the lower door into the cargo hold banged open.

  They all sprang to their feet, hurrying to the edge to look down into the cargo hold.

  Zach emerged from the cabin, helping an apparently conscious Grayson. Zach had pulled Grayson’s arm around his shoulders, while wrapping his other arm around Grayson’s back. A bloodstain marred Zach’s sleeve where a metal fin had gotten him, but he didn’t move his arm.

  The two men stumbled to the side of the boat, and Briar’s joy of seeing Grayson up was dashed when he fell to his knees and vomited over the side. Zach gripped his shoulder, perhaps in comfort or simply to keep him from falling overboard.

  Briar jumped down into the cargo hold, aware of the rest of the crew following, and hurried to where Grayson hung over the side of the boat.

  No longer beneath a blanket in a dimly lit room, she got her first good look at him. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and the fins protruding from the vertebrae of his upper back were no longer the only metal visible. The skin had split over his shoulder blades, revealing blood streaked metal instead of bone beneath.

  The vomiting subsided to dry heaves, and Grayson collapsed against the deck, pulling up his knees as if in pain.

  She knelt beside him, noting the blood on his lips. “Grayson?” She gripped his shoulder. His skin was still ice cold.

  He didn’t respond, but the hand gripping the edge of the deck tightened. A glitter drew her eye, and she watched as the dark veins in the wood turned silver. The board was turning to metal.

  “Grayson, don’t,” she said, alarmed. She started to reach out and grip his wrist, but hesitated.

  His eye lids fluttered as if he tried to respond, then he pulled his knees tighter to his stomach, whimpering in pain.

  “Miss Briar?” Eli’s voice was soft and uncertain.

  Grayson cried out and a stream of blood ran from one nostril.

  “Whatever’s happening,” Jimmy said, softly, “I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

  With nowhere else to turn, Briar pulled the silver pocket watch from her pocket. “Lock?” She waited, but nothing happened.

  “These people are my friends, Lock. We can trust them. Please, can you help me save Grayson?”

  “Miss Briar, what are you—” Jimmy gasped as the watch transformed into the little dragon.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Benji muttered.

  Lock looked up at her, his gem-like eyes full of sadness.

  “He’s dying, isn’t he?” she whispered.

  Lock moaned.

  “Is there anything you can do? Anything we can do?”

  He studied her a moment, then leapt into the air. In a flurry of silver wings, he flew back to her cabin.

  “Captain, what’s going on?” Jimmy asked.

  She gripped Grayson’s shoulder as he continued to writhe in pain, oblivious to his surroundings. “Solon, the other ferromancer, forced this on him. He’s going through something called a final casting.”

  “Like when metal is poured into a mold at a foundry?” Jimmy asked.

  “I suspect it’s very much like that.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I think it’s killing him.”

  A glint of metal drew her attention. Lock was flying back, holding her fiddle case in his talons. He dropped it in her hands, then landed on her shoulder.

  “Is that an automaton?” Benji asked, his tone more awed than alarmed.

  “Yes.” She turned to see Lock. “You think I should play for him like I did before?”

  Lock cooed and rubbed his cheek against hers.

  “That’ll help?” Eli sounded skeptical.

  “It helped after Grayson stopped that soulless man in Chillicothe.” She opened the case and took out her fiddle and bow.

  “Is that where you learned he was a ferromancer?” Benji asked, he looked more intrigued than upset with her secret.

  “No, I didn’t find out until Solon did this to him.” She got to her feet.

  Grayson cried out again, drawing his legs tighter to his chest.

  She tucked the fiddle under her chin and took a deep breath. She didn’t see how this would help, but she was willing to try anything.

  A hand touched her leg, and she looked down to find Zach looking up at her. He placed his hand over his heart, then pointed at her.

  “Play from the heart,” she whispered. “Or as Grayson told me, from the soul.”

  Zach nodded.

  She wondered at this connection Zach seemed to have with Grayson. She remembered seeing them together on the towpath. Had Grayson opened up to him? Certai
nly, he wouldn’t have told Zach the truth.

  Zach gave her leg a squeeze of encouragement, then withdrew his hand.

  “Here goes,” she whispered.

  Lock snuggled closer to the side of her neck opposite the fiddle.

  She took another breath and drew the bow across the stings. She ran through a couple of scales, thinking about how badly she wanted to help Grayson, to encourage his body to accept this new form and heal. Certainly, others of his race had done it and survived. Solon had wanted this too much to lose him to death.

  Briar didn’t know when she stopped playing scales and launched into a heartfelt tune of hope and healing. She played until her fingers were raw, then played past it. A little discomfort wouldn’t distract her. She poured her determination into her music, willing Grayson to beat this thing with the same stubborn fortitude.

  “It’s working, Captain,” Jimmy said, his voice little more than a whisper.

  She opened her eyes and looked down. To her shock, Grayson’s skin was no longer pale and translucent, but regaining a healthy ruddy glow in the warm morning sun. His tight ball of pain had relaxed, and though he seemed to be looking at nothing in particular, his eyes were open.

  She continued to play, encouraging him and sending him strength. The tune grew more lively and upbeat as her hope welled.

  With Zach’s help, Grayson sat up. He fisted his hands against his thighs, and one by one, the metal fins began to retreat into his body. Oval-shaped, silver orifices remained over each vertebra like a line of oblong silver rivets down his back.

  As her song continued, the exposed metal to either side of his spine morphed and grew until a series of overlapping silver plates was molded over his shoulder blades.

  Finally, his hands relaxed against his thighs, and he bowed his head, allowing his damp hair to fall across his forehead.

  She pulled the bow from the strings, and the last note echoed across the calm waters of the canal.

  Lock gave a little squeal of delight and leapt from her shoulder to his.

  “Grayson?” she prompted in the silence.

  He got up on one knee, but hesitated before pushing himself to his feet.

  Zach offered him a hand.

  Grayson looked up, and after holding Zach’s gaze for a moment, allowed him to pull him to his feet.