by White, Gwynn
She expected Grayson to be weak, but he seemed steady on his feet.
He looked down, then ran a hand over his chest as if noticing for the first time that he was shirtless.
Zach pulled off his own shirt and offered it to him.
Briar stood rooted to the spot, feeling like a voyeur in this incredibly private moment, but unable to look away. She’d never seen Zach without a shirt—which was unusual on a cramped boat in the middle of summer. But seeing him now, she understood why.
She’d noticed the scars on his neck, but she now saw that they covered his right shoulder, chest, and stomach before disappearing beneath his waistband. How he had survived burns like that was a wonder.
Grayson studied Zach and his offered shirt, then, without a word, reached out and gripped his scarred shoulder.
A shimmer of light danced across Zach’s skin as if he’d been dusted with a fine layer of glittering sand.
Briar’s mouth dropped open as Zach’s scars gradually faded, though his skin retained that faintly glittery property.
Grayson’s hand slid over from Zach’s shoulder. With his palm resting against the side of Zach’s neck, he pressed his thumb to the front of Zach’s throat.
Briar frowned, watching the silent exchange. She could tell by the way the rest of the crew had begun to shift their weight that they were also growing uncomfortable, wondering what Grayson was doing to Zach.
Grayson finally took his hand from Zach’s neck. But with the support gone, Grayson swayed on his feet.
Zach caught his shoulder steadying him. Zach’s Adam’s apple bobbed with an exaggerated swallow. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have done that,” Zach whispered.
Briar pressed a hand to her mouth, shocked to hear Zach speak for the first time.
“Perhaps,” Grayson agreed with him, his tone cool and devoid of emotion. “You will find that your new voice will give you a new ability, but I believe you possess the temperament to use it wisely.” Grayson gripped Zach’s shoulder, and without another word to anyone, walked off toward the bow of the ship, Lock still perched on his shoulder. The metal in Grayson’s back glinted in the sun.
With a sob, Benji came forward and wrapped his brother in hug.
“It’s all right, Ben,” Zach whispered, hugging Benji in turn and rubbing a hand over his blond hair.
“Dear Lord,” Jimmy found his own voice. “He healed you?” he asked Zach, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t know ferromancers could heal.”
“Was it healing?” Eli asked. “His skin glitters.”
Benji pulled back, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. “Eli’s right. It’s like that board Grayson touched.” He gestured at the board on the edge of the boat. The metal in it glinted in the sun.
“I don’t think Zach is complaining,” Jimmy said.
“It’s like he infused metal in his skin,” Eli said, eyeing Zach’s scarless skin. “Did he do the same for his throat?”
“That’s what ferromancers do,” Jimmy said. “They work with metal, right?”
“They can also make a man soulless,” Eli said.
Briar sighed. “He wouldn’t do that, and besides, this is between him and Zach.” She returned the fiddle to its case. “Zach can give him a good cussing later.”
Zach smiled. “I’ll refrain.” His voice was still little more than a whisper, but perhaps it would get stronger with use. Even if it didn’t, it was still amazing.
She smiled in turn, and patting Zach on his faintly glittering shoulder, turned and carried her fiddle back to her cabin.
Setting the instrument on the table, she eyed the rumpled cook’s bunk with its bloodstained and ripped blankets. She knelt and pulled out Martel’s trunk—no, Grayson’s trunk. The clothes inside were his. But she only glanced at them. Her eyes were drawn to the leather tube. Someone had returned the plans to Grayson’s trunk. Zach?
Picking up the tube and a white shirt, she took a deep breath and left the cabin.
Grayson still sat on the rail at the bow, not paying much attention to them. Fortunately, there were no other boats nearby at the moment.
She walked to the bow and stopped beside him. “We’re not the only boat out here.” She offered him his shirt.
He eyed it a moment, then took it from her. “Thank you.” Lock hopped down while Grayson pulled the shirt over his head and let it drop into place, then he turned his attention back to the canal. Lock returned to his shoulder and rubbed his cheek against Grayson’s.
She sat down beside them, setting the leather tube at her feet. “Are you all right?”
“I am well.” He fell silent once more.
“I’m going to take that to mean that you are physically past the point of danger. How are you otherwise?”
He turned his face away. “You shouldn’t have come for me.”
“You were just going to let him kill you? That seems cowardly.”
He finally faced her, a frown shadowing his eyes. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”
“And I never will if you don’t explain.”
He took a deep breath and slowly released it.
When he didn’t speak, she ventured on. “Solon was trying to force a change on you that you didn’t want. Why didn’t you want it?”
“Why?” he demanded. “Can’t you guess? I wanted to remain human—or something like.”
“You still look human to me.”
He gave her a frown.
“Minus a few metal bits,” she added.
He huffed and turned his attention back to the canal. “The metal bits are not the concern. As time passes, as I use more of my abilities, I will gradually lose my humanity. I’m talking about what makes us human: empathy, compassion, the innate drive to be part of the social order.”
“I don’t do so well with the social thing, either. Ask anyone who knows me.”
“This isn’t a joke,” he said with heat, though his gaze was cold when it met hers. “I’m going to become a monster.”
“Because you’re a ferromancer.”
“Yes.” His voice softened, and she got the sense that he still didn’t like confessing that.
“So, that’s it?” she asked, growing annoyed with his pessimism. “You’re just going to give up and accept it?”
“After a ferromancer’s final casting, there’s nothing to be done.”
“Always? No exceptions? No one’s ever tried to beat this thing?”
He hesitated. “Not in the last fifty years. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories out of Europe.”
“Stories, yes. You hesitated. What happened before these recent problems?”
“It’s just a myth. A tale of hope whispered among the damned.”
“That’s borderline poetic.”
He gave her another frown before looking away. “The ferra keep us in the dark.”
“The ferra. Solon said they’re the female half of your race. Can they do…the things you can do?” She had yet to develop a full of understanding of just what a ferromancer could do, so she kept it vague.
“The active power only manifests in the male.”
“Curious.” She thought back over her conversation with Solon. “Why did Solon think I was one of them?”
“You can command a construct and—” he stopped.
“And?”
“And it’s not a common ability.”
She lifted a brow. “So I can do some things other people can’t. I’m pretty good on the fiddle, too.”
His forehead wrinkled.
“And what’s up with that? Why does my playing seem to help you?”
“I speculate it’s your connection to my construct.” He took a breath. “To Lock.”
Lock sat up and made something like a little roar.
Grayson slumped. “And so it begins.”
“So what begins?”
He shook his head and got to his feet.
She caught his wrist. “Would you please stop being so cryptic?”
It surprised her how much it hurt to hear him say that. After everything they’d been through…
She could only see one reason. “You think I’m ferra, too.”
He held her gaze, saying nothing.
“I’ve lived on this boat since I was three years old. I don’t know anything about any of this—except what you and Solon have told me.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not in your ancestry,” he replied, his tone soft.
She was stunned. “You think I have some kind of ability to control you? You think that I would?”
A bitter smile curled his mouth. “You already command a crew of men.”
She shoved herself to her feet. “Not against their will!” She made herself continue in a softer voice. “I realize that you hardly know me, but that goes against every fiber of my being. I’ve worked too hard to hang on to my freedom. I would never take it from another—even a self-described monster.”
He studied her. “Then you’ll give me the plans?”
She reached down and picked up the tube, then offered it to him. “Uncle Liam said that the technology is influenced by ferromancy, but that the plans contain none. He said the designer was a mechanical genius.”
“He did?” Grayson looked surprised, and perhaps, pleased.
“That was before he knew what you are, of course. What I don’t understand is why you would design something like that.”
“The challenge. To make what is impossible to the mundane, possible.” For the first time, his tone warmed and a glint of enthusiasm lit his eyes.
“But didn’t you make Lock?”
He glanced at the little dragon on his shoulder. “Yes, but he’s one hundred percent ferromantic.”
She marveled at the way he went on and on about the locomotive, yet he shrugged off something as miraculous as Lock. “They’re both beautiful.”
“But it’s the locomotive’s function that is the marvel.” The enthusiasm in Grayson’s tone grew more pronounced. “I hope to get a patent. That’s why I wanted the plans back. I’m surprised you returned them. If I sell them to the railroad, the need for the canals will decrease even more.”
“Those plans are the creative children of your soul. I would never take that from you.”
He studied her for a moment. “Technically, so is Lock, and you see how that turned out.”
Lock lifted his head to look at her with soulful eyes.
“Lock is a hell of a lot cuter than those plans.” She braced a hand against Grayson’s chest and reached up to tickle Lock under his chin. When she leaned back, Grayson was watching her.
Without comment, he took Lock from his shoulder and transferred him to hers.
“He’s yours,” he whispered.
“I can’t—”
He pressed his thumb to her lips, silencing her. “I can’t become a full-fledged monster without all of my soul.” A sad smile, and he turned away. “The ferra taught me that.”
She watched him walk away, not sure what to make of any of this.
20
They docked in Lockbourne a little over an hour later. The gangplank was already down when Grayson emerged from her cabin, carrying his trunk. Briar stood on the aft deck above him. Perhaps she could just stand here and wave farewell.
The silver watch shifted in her pocket as if Lock had heard her thoughts. Who knew? Maybe he picked up on her emotions or something.
She slipped a finger in her pocket, brushing the warm metal surface. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’m being a coward.”
Grayson turned and looked up at her, though she knew there was no way he could have heard her. She flashed back to him and Lock playing chess, or any of their other interactions. Could the two of them communicate at a distance? She found the notion disturbing.
Walking to the hatch, she descended the ladder into her cabin, then stepped out through the door into the cargo hold. Grayson glanced over as she joined him.
“You and Lock can communicate,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“Not in words.”
“Because you don’t need words when he’s part of your soul.”
Grayson grunted, but didn’t argue.
She frowned. “I don’t think you should leave him behind.”
“He’ll be more sad if I take him. He loves you.”
Lock stirred in her pocket once more, and she had the sense that he wasn’t happy with Grayson’s revelation.
She slipped her fingers into her pocket again. “Yes, he over-shared,” she said to Lock. “But it’s all right. I love you, too, Lock.”
She glanced up at Grayson, expecting amusement, but he wasn’t smiling. He looked intrigued, as if he hadn’t expected her to understand Lock so well. But she didn’t get to question him about it as Eli and Jimmy joined them.
“So long, ferromancer,” Eli said.
“Don’t you mean good riddance?” Grayson asked.
“I was being polite.”
Grayson smiled, then turned to Jimmy.
To Briar’s surprise, Jimmy offered him a hand. “Thanks again for fixing my father’s watch.”
“Thank you for letting me,” Grayson answered. “I was about to go mad isolated on a wooden vessel on the water.”
Jimmy looked puzzled by the comment, but Briar remembered Grayson telling her that a ferromancer wouldn’t be comfortable on her boat. Maybe that was another reason he was leaving.
A carriage rattled past on the street that bordered the docks. “Have you the funds for your journey?” she asked Grayson. He would be traveling by carriage to Newark where he would catch a train to who knew where.
“I do.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out an envelope. “I also need to settle my bill for my passage.”
“I kidnapped you.”
“Semantics.” He offered her the envelope. “Take the envelope, Miss Rose. Most of that came from your cousin.”
“Well, in that case…” She took the envelope from him, then glanced up in surprise when she felt how thick it was. With some trepidation, she looked inside. Stunned by what she found, she began to count the bills. “I can’t take this,” she said when she finished. “Even if it did belong to Andrew.”
“Why not?” Grayson asked. “I personally find it amusing that you’ll be using his money to buy this boat from him.”
“There’s two thousand dollars here.” She got straight to the point.
Jimmy’s mouth dropped open.
“Which I understand is what a boat like this costs,” Grayson said. Had he been asking around?
“The boat might already be mine.”
Grayson lifted a brow.
“Andrew is soulless.”
“What?” Grayson must not have noticed Andrew lying on the deck when he confronted Liam last night.
“Although he still wants to sell the boat. He intends to use the money to throw some big international gala for Solon. Any idea what that’s all about?”
“No.” Grayson turned his head, frowning. She realized he was looking north, back toward Columbus. “I don’t guess it matters.” He picked up his trunk and started across the gangplank.
“Grayson, wait.” She hurried after him. “I can’t take this money.”
“Then toss it in the canal,” he said over his shoulder.
She huffed and continued after him. They rounded the end of an empty wagon and Grayson finally stopped. She took a breath for another argument, then she noticed Zach and Benji standing a few feet away. They were talking with a man in a blue coat. A policeman.
Briar gripped Grayson’s arm, and he quietly set down the trunk.
“Ah, I see now,” the policeman said, his head turned toward the boat. The Briny Rose. Odd name.”
“I believe the previous owner was once a sailor at sea,” Zach answered. His voice was stronger now, but it had an odd metallic resonance Briar hadn’t noticed bef
ore.
“Makes sense,” the policeman agreed. “Sorry to trouble you.”
“No trouble,” Zach agreed with an easy smile.
With a tip of his hat, the policeman turned and walked off.
“That was amazing,” Benji said as soon as he and Zach were alone.
Zach turned away and seeing her and Grayson, his cheeks turned pink.
“What just happened?” she asked. “Was that policeman looking for me?”
“Yes,” Zach answered.
“But Zach told a fib and he believed it,” Benji said. “He thought the boat was called the Briny Rose.”
“Zach?” she prompted.
“It’s on account of what Mr. Martel did for me.” Zach waved a hand at Grayson.
“He can magic people into believing what he says,” Benji clarified.
Grayson looked amused by the comment, but remained silent.
“I would never use it for ill,” Zach said quickly. “And never on you, Captain.”
“I believe you, Zach.” She patted his shoulder, and hoped her smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. “I’m going to walk Mr. Martel to the carriage station.” And try to give him his money back.
“Have a safe trip,” Benji said. He still stared at Grayson with something close to wonder.
“I will, Ben.” Grayson laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take care of your brother?”
“Of course, sir.”
Grayson turned to Zach who watched the exchange with a small smile. “Don’t get any ideas. It won’t work on me.”
Zach smiled, but as was his habit, remained silent.
Grayson offered his hand and Zach took it.
“Thank you,” Zach said.
“No problem,” Grayson answered. “As I told Jimmy, I enjoy fixing things.”
Zach just smiled.
Briar cleared her throat. “If you two would get the fresh team hitched, we can get underway when I get back.”
“Where are we headed?” Benji asked.
“North.” She didn’t elaborate.
She’d never captained a boat on the northern stretch of the Ohio & Erie, though she had traveled it a few times with her uncle. She’d often considered a northern run, just for a change of scenery, but for some reason had never left her home stretch. Now it seemed she may not be going back.