Kali swallowed. She had best do this quickly, for both of their sakes.
The windows allowed her to see inside the cabin. Though flames roared on the outside, they did not seem to have damaged the interior irrevocably yet. Kali tugged her kerchief over her mouth and nose again and edged closer to the door. Certain the metal lever would be hotter than Hades, she pulled her sleeve over her hand.
Heat railed at her, and the wind shifted, driving smoke into her eyes. The men exchanged another round of fire, and Kali forced herself to hurry. She grabbed the lever, twisting it and yanking it open. The sleeve did nothing for protection, and heat scorched her palm, as if she had grabbed an iron from the forge. The hatch swung open. She shook her hand and made a point not to look at the welts that had to be rising there.
Staying low, Kali darted into the cabin. With windows on all sides, she knew she’d be a target in there. Though she didn’t think Lockhart would aim at her, she couldn’t be sure. He might decide hurting her would distract Cedar, providing the opportunity the agent needed to take his prey down. Or he might think she was trying to damage the city instead of saving it.
Kali dashed sweat out of her eyes as she considered the large wooden wheel and the control panel sprawling across the front of the cabin. Waves of heat battered her from all sides, and she knew she couldn’t stay long. Even with the kerchief over her mouth, hot fumes scorched her nostrils, seeming to burn all the way to her lungs. She’d never been inside a volcano, but she imagined it would feel like this.
Though she didn’t expect it to have any result, Kali grabbed the wheel and spun it as far to one side as it would go. The ship’s engines were still working—vibrations thrummed beneath her feet—but they could do nothing, not with the vessel grounded atop the mill. Indeed, Kali could see the large smokestack pressed against the bow. For all she knew, the fans that propelled the ship were busted, smashed into pieces when the craft crashed onto the mill roof. Only achieving lift would help them.
More screams of, “Fire, fire!” came from the city below, and Kali had a feeling the flames were already spreading.
She searched the bank of levers, hunting for something that might help. As far as she knew, the balloon wasn’t yet compromised, so there had to be hydrogen remaining up there. What if she now vented some of the air? That would partially deflate the balloon, but it’d also change the hydrogen-to-air ratio. If the ship wasn’t too heavy, maybe there’d be enough of the lighter gas left to lift the hull a few feet. That ought to be all they needed to limp through town and reach the river.
Unlike with the controls in the machine room below, these had tape pasted below them with English translations scrawled across the surface. There was hydrogen with its lever already thrust to maximum. Someone had tried to get them back into the air, but there were no reserves to call upon. Kali could have smacked herself on the forehead for her shortsighted sabotage. Bringing the ship down had been her goal, of course, but that had been before she’d known about the fire. She’d envisioned a soft landing in the middle of the Main Street mud. If they caught the city on fire…it’d be her fault.
The smoke invading her throat spurred a series of coughs, and Kali dropped low for a moment, gathering herself. Black dots danced at the edges of her vision. The heat was making her dizzy.
A bullet shattered one of the rear windows. It cut straight through and slammed into a charred support beam in the corner. Broken glass pelted Kali. Already on her knees, she buried her head and raised her arms to protect her neck. Shards tinkled to the deck all around, the soft noises oddly audible above the snapping wood and roaring fire. More than one piece of glass found bare skin, and Kali winced. Warm blood trickled down her jawline.
“So much for Lockhart not shooting at me,” she muttered, her voice hoarse.
Talking only brought on another round of coughing. More noxious fumes invaded her lungs.
Kali squinted up at the control panel, renewing her search. There was a lever for adding air, but where—ah, there it was. Two wheels for emergency venting purposes, both fortunately labeled. Kali fought against the heat and her own dizziness to rise enough to grab the closest wheel. She had to simultaneously push and twist to vent the air.
Out on the deck, the fire had spread, charring everything in its path as flames leapt into the night. Under the reddish glow, Kali glimpsed Lockhart inching closer to the bow of the ship. He darted from one piece of cover to the next, drawing near her station.
From somewhere in front of the navigation cabin, Cedar fired. Lockhart ducked behind one of the weapons turrets. Kali shook her head. Didn’t he know that Cedar didn’t have to miss? And would Cedar continue to miss if Lockhart became a threat to her? Being framed for murdering innocent citizens was bad enough; killing a Pinkerton detective would bring the wrath of the entire agency down upon him.
After Kali left the vent controls, she crouched behind the wooden navigation wheel and turned it all the way to starboard. Nothing happened. She held it there, hoping the balloon would eventually rise, lifting the ship free of its perch. Of course, if the ship was too heavy and the balloon simply deflated, it might droop down onto the deck, and smother them all in a fiery cocoon of death.
“Probably shouldn’t think things like that,” she muttered to herself.
A loud crack erupted behind her. Kali drew her arm in front of her face as a portion of the roof caved in. Burning wood fell everywhere, and ash clogged the air. A gaping hole in the ceiling revealed flames leaping from the cabin’s roof, their fingers licking the bottom of the balloon. If the hydrogen blew…with her this close to it….
Kali gulped and rose to her feet, tempted to sprint outside and forget the ship and the city. She didn’t want to die over this. Maybe if she could find some rope, she could tie the wheel in place, so the ship would turn away from the smokestack on its own if the hull lifted.
Wood scraped and groaned beneath Kali. The hull scraping against the mill’s roof.
“Yes,” she whispered. “We’re moving.”
With the hot wheel gripped in both hands, she fastened her gaze to the front window. Ash stung her eyes, and tears streamed down her face, but it didn’t matter. They were rising. Slowly but surely, with much scraping and bumping, they climbed away from the mill roof.
Kali adjusted the wheel, trying to veer in the direction of the river. The ship responded sluggishly, but it inched forward.
More than one bullet had assaulted the windows, and she had to peer through a spider web of cracked glass. Despite the fire raging on the ship, the blanket of night still cloaked Dawson. She struggled to get her bearings, and it was more memory of the city’s layout that guided her, rather than what she saw, though dozens of lanterns swirled about below, people running to and fro, coming to help, or perhaps simply gawk.
Nausea churned in Kali’s stomach, and lightheadedness continued to assail her. She gripped the wheel tightly, fearing she might otherwise wither under the heat and collapse to the deck. She’d stopped sweating and was simply baking now, like salmon bundled in leaves and cooked beneath the embers of a fire.
Movement stirred at the corner of her vision. Lockhart. He’d drawn even with the cabin, and gripped his Colt, his jaw set with determination, but he didn’t aim it at her. He met her eyes briefly before standing on tiptoes to peer out past the bow. Did he know what she was trying to accomplish? Kali hoped so. She was too hot to dodge bullets. All she wanted was—
A snap split the air, hammering Kali’s ears with its power. The ceiling collapsed.
Burning wood plummeted, and something heavy—a beam?—smashed into her and flattened her to the deck.
Strangely, Kali didn’t feel any pain, but a great weight pinned her. It felt like a mountain had landed on her back, and it wasn’t moving. She tried to push and pull herself free, but one of her arms was also pinned. With the other she reached, trying to find something to grab, some way to obtain leverage to pull herself free, but her fingernails only scrabbled uselessl
y against the hot deck boards. She couldn’t feel her legs.
Kali tried to suck in a deep breath so she could call out for help, but too much weight pressed against her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Tears of frustration and fear sprang to her eyes. She was going to die here, all because she’d been greedy and tried to find a shortcut to getting an airship. She’d never escape the Yukon, never see the world, never know a winter that wasn’t icy and dark.
“Kali!”
Hope stirred. It was Cedar. But his voice sounded far away, and flames leapt all about Kali. Could he reach her in time?
She tried to lift her head, to use the last of her air to cry out, but she couldn’t budge her cheek from the deck.
Boots came into view, not one set but two. Cedar and…Lockhart?
Kali couldn’t tell. Everything was so bright, so hot. Pain stabbed her head and her eyes.
Scrapes sounded, and she sensed the men pulling wood off of her. The great weight shifted on her back, lessening, and she finally gulped in a breath of hot, smoky air. She’d lost her kerchief. Dumb thing to notice.
Hands gripped her beneath the armpits, and more rubble fell away from her as someone pulled her free. Cedar. She could barely make him out through her bleary eyes, but he swept her up in both arms, carrying her against his chest.
“Take her somewhere safe.” That was Lockhart. He stood amongst the burning debris, both hands on the wheel.
Confusion swarmed over Kali. Had they made peace? Or perhaps declared a truce until the city was safe?
Before she could ask, Cedar rushed out the door. In long running strides, he carried her to the railing where his rope was tied, the end dangling into the darkness below.
On her back in his arms, Kali had a view of the balloon, of the way the flames flickered all about it, burning into the material, compromising its integrity. She stiffened.
“The balloon!” she tried to shout. Her voice came out raspy and weak. “Get out of there!” she yelled as loudly as she could.
Cedar leaped over the railing without slowing. Wind whistled past her face, and she thought they’d fall all the way to the ground, but he twisted in the air and caught the rope. He shimmied down it and landed lightly on—a dock? Had they made it to the river? Kali twisted her neck, trying to see.
Before she got her bearings, a massive boom shook the earth, and the sky exploded in flames. The power of the shock wave knocked Cedar down, and Kali fell to the dock on top of him. He rolled over her to protect her, but she still saw the airship, a great fiery ball, plunging into the Yukon River.
It was the last thing Kali saw before her world disappeared in blackness.
Epilogue
Kali woke in a bed in a log room with daylight streaming in the window. It was a real glass window, and a black doctor’s bag sat on a nearby stool. Doc Morgan’s place, she guessed. Conversations drifted through the open window, and voices of teamsters managing horses came from farther away, so she gathered the city hadn’t burned down.
Taking a deep breath evoked pain on the backside of her ribs, and she decided shallow breaths had more appeal. She turned her head to find Cedar slumped in a chair near her bed. His eyes were closed, his head was thrown back, and his mouth hung open. Kali smiled, tickled by the idea of the deadly bounty hunter in repose. She was reluctant to wake him, but she wanted to know what had happened in the end.
“I hope—” Kali’s voice came out hoarse and scratchy, and speaking hurt. She lowered it to a whisper to finish. “I hope Cudgel doesn’t stroll by when you’re such an easy target.”
A single eye opened. “My back is to the wall, and I can see the door and the window from here.”
“Is it hard to see with your eyes closed?”
“Not if you’re good.”
As hard as talking was, Kali couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Someone been filling your head with notions that you’re good?”
“Not often enough.” Cedar’s other eye opened, and the pair swiveled to regard her.
“Not my fault you haven’t been around much.” Kali eyed the hand-hewn rafters in the ceiling. “I suppose that’ll continue now that you’re certain Cudgel’s here.”
“Well, I was staying away so he wouldn’t learn that I had feelings for you, but it sounds like he already figured out that we’re…something—” Cedar lifted his eyebrows, and Kali nodded, “—so I expect that’s a good reason for us to stick together. Then he’d have to go through me to hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself,” Kali said, more out of habit than any objection to spending time with him.
“Oh, I know that, but, strange as it seems, I like to be around you.” Cedar leaned toward her, and Kali turned her face, expecting a kiss, but he hesitated, a question in his eyes.
He must wonder if she forgave him, if she still accepted him now that she knew about his not entirely honorable past. Kali twitched a shoulder. It wasn’t like she was perfect either. Tarnation, she’d slept with that weasel, Sebastian. For all she knew, he had a wife or three down south somewhere.
Kali lifted her hand and brushed her fingers along his jaw. “I see you’re stubbly again. Didn’t we talk about you adopting shaving on a more regular basis?”
His eyes crinkled, and he kissed her. It was a might more chaste and gentle than she would have preferred, but she supposed a woman with broken ribs ought not to have too much excitement in her day.
When Cedar drew back, Kali settled against the pillow again and said, “That was nice, but don’t think I’ll let you loiter around me if kissing is all you’ve got in mind. As I recall, you promised to put blade to board and help me build my airship.”
Cedar smiled. “You’re still a hard woman to impress, I see.”
“Indeed, I am, sir. What happened to Lockhart?” Kali wondered if the detective would continue to be a problem, though she couldn’t imagine someone surviving that explosion.
Cedar’s smile faded. “He’s dead.” He drew a Colt from a holster in a belt hanging over the chair, and she gathered that he had gone to check for himself. He turned the weapon over in his hand, studying it, or perhaps not seeing it at all. “I ran into the cabin when I saw the ceiling fall. I wasn’t paying attention to anything but—” His voice grew tight, as if he was working around a lump in his throat, and he had to clear it before he could continue. “I would have been an easy target. I guess he figured that at that moment saving you and the city was more important than shooting me.” His voice grew soft. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to get you out of that cabin if not for his help.”
Kali closed her eyes. It was strange and uncomfortable to be beholden to a dead man. How did one repay a debt like that? “He seemed like a decent fellow,” she said. “Just too stubborn to listen to the truth, but I reckon that’s a lot of men.”
“Most.”
If Cedar was relieved that the detective wouldn’t be following him any more, he did not show it. But then, the Pinkertons would probably send someone else when they learned of Lockhart’s death. Perhaps he had only traded a known enemy for a new, unknown one.
“It’s wrong, isn’t it?” Kali asked. “Decent people trying to kill each other, not even knowing they are more alike than not, not realizing they got no rightful reason to be enemies.”
Cedar offered a neutral grunt. Maybe he still felt a measure of guilt for the role he’d played in that woman’s death. He returned the revolver to its holster.
Kali watched it. “He told me he wanted to bring peace with that.”
“I know.”
“They say the Pinkertons are supposed to be the righteous hand of the law, but it’s foolish to think you can make peace if the only tool you have is a gun.”
“Is that comment supposed to apply to me too?” Cedar asked. “Because I also have a sword.”
Kali snorted. “The tool I’m really looking forward to seeing you handle is a saw.”
“Ah, yes, about that—”
Footsteps sounded
on the wooden sidewalk outside the window, and a knock came at the door. Cedar did not tense or reach for a weapon.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened, and Kéitlyudee strolled in with young Tadzi limping after. Kéitlyudee had cleaned up and wore a beaded caribou dress and sandals. The bruises on her face had started to fade, which made Kali toss a surprised glance at Cedar.
“How long have I been out?”
“Couple days,” he said. “You’ve been in and out. You were beat soundly up there, broken ribs and burns. Doc gave you a draught to make you sleep and heal up.”
Kali couldn’t fault that, she supposed, but it made her uneasy to think of days passing without her knowing it.
Tadzi bounced to a stop in front of Cedar. “My cousins are working the crane with those two smiths, and they’ll have the engine out soon. The deck’s all busted and burned, but lots of the hull is still serviceable.”
Kali stared at him. “What’s this?”
“I told Chief Isaac what you did for me,” Kéitlyudee said, “and how what you did will give peace to the spirits of all the girls that were killed by that monster. Now you’re…” She shrugged.
“You’re a hero!” Tadzi blurted. “Cedar said you’re building an airship too.” His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
“The Hän were thinking of a feast in your honor,” Cedar told Kali with a sly look, “but I said if they really wanted to honor you, they could send some people to help you salvage that ship and build the hull to your new one.”
“How many people?” Kali whispered, visions of a legion of workers dancing in her head. Maybe she could finish before winter came after all.
“About a dozen. And some of the townsfolk are helping get the airship out of the water. The mayor said you were welcome to what’s left, and he’s appreciative that you kept the city from burning. So if you’ve ever wanted a favor, now might be the time to ask.”
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