Devon Monk - Tin Swift

Cedar walked over to her.

“Mr. Hunt?” It was Mae.

Cedar glanced at Rose, who didn’t appear to have heard Mae’s soft whisper. She blinked, though, and was breathing steady, if a little shallow.

Maybe Mae could ease her pain with herbs.

He walked around the hammock to where Mae sat on the blankets on the floor. She had one hand on the tatting shuttle around her neck, the other clenched in a fist as if she were trying to hold on to the fabric of this waking world, worried that if she let go, she might slip back into dreams.

“Morning, Mrs. Lindson,” Cedar said, kneeling in front of her.

It took her some time to respond. Some time to actually move her eyes away from staring at things he could not see in the middle distance between them to seeing him only an arm’s reach in front of her.

“We’re not in the sky,” she said.

“We landed. Safe. You helped the captain with it. Do you remember?”

Her eyes flicked across his face as if trying to see him through so many other images. “We were falling.”

“Yes. But we didn’t fall. You cast a spell, Mrs. Lindson. You touched the captain.”

“No,” she said.

Cedar paused. She sounded afraid. He wasn’t sure if she was telling him no, or saying it to the voices of the sisters in her head.

“I didn’t touch him,” she said. “Tell me I didn’t touch him. Please.”

He could lie. She would find comfort in it. But he didn’t know what kind of spell she had cast.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But you did touch the captain. You were singing. Some sort of prayer. Then he brought the ship down for a safe landing here in the mountains.”

She shook her head. “Is he alive? Is he breathing?”

“He’s fine.” Cedar clamped his teeth down before he said more. Why was she suddenly so concerned about the captain? He was a stranger, a rogue. For all they knew, he could be their enemy. And yet she showed more compassion to him than she had to Cedar in the last few weeks on the trail.

The killing need of the beast rose in him. The need to destroy the captain, to tear him to bloody shreds and leave him for the vultures to pick over. Just the thought of Mae caring for the captain set off a deep fury and jealousy, which he fought back.

No good would come of killing the only man who could repair the ship and fly them out of here.

No good would come of him being angry over Mae’s interest in a man other than him.

The beast squirmed under his logic and, finally, relented, leaving his head filled with reasonable thoughts again.

“I…” Mae seemed to be trying very hard to pull herself into a calmer state. She relaxed her fist, but did not let go of the shuttle.

“I may have harmed him,” she said quietly. “May have bound him to his ship in ways a man’s mind cannot endure. I have done worse with magic. Such terrible things.” Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was almost on the verge of tears, even though her voice was calm.

“He’s clearheaded,” Cedar said, still working to push his anger down. “I was just speaking with him outside. He’s decided to repair the ship, then go for supplies. He’s promised to take us to Kansas. To the sisterhood.”

“Are you certain?” she asked.

Cedar gently placed his hand over her fist. “Of his promise? Not at all.”

“No,” she said. “That he’s well. That he’s sane.”

“Yes. He shows no ill effects of what you did. If you hadn’t used magic, I’m not sure we would have landed in one piece. You made the right choice, Mrs. Lindson.”

Mae took some comfort in that, and even managed a small smile. “Good,” she said. “Good, then. And Rose? Has she shown any signs of waking?”

“Last night, and she’s awake now. Can you tend her?”

Mae nodded. Cedar helped her to her feet. She swayed just a little, her hands clutching his tighter. Then she bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes for a moment, setting herself. “What do I have to work with, Mr. Hunt? My satchel at least?”

Cedar bent and picked it up off the floor for her. “What else do you need?”

“I’m not sure. Let me see to her first.” She brushed the stray locks of hair off her face and squared her shoulders.

Cedar glanced around the ship. The men were all gone, and so was Wil. He’d heard them head out the door. From the clatter and stomping coming from the roof area, he figured they were already working on repairs.

Captain Hink was in a hurry to leave this hidey-hole, for which Cedar was glad. Too easy to be trapped in such a tight squeeze. If the captain of the Saginaw decided to throw dynamite down just to cover his bets, there was every chance he’d bring down the walls and they’d be sealed in here.

And if the snows came, they’d be dead for sure.

Molly Gregor came out of the door at the far end of the ship. She had a teakettle in one hand. “Thought we could all use hot tea this morning. Take the bite out of the cold in this hole.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but instead poured a cup for Cedar and Mae, and one for Rose too.

Cedar took it gratefully, and swallowed down the fragrant brew. “Mint?” he said.

“Picked some up when we were last out Chicago way.” Molly pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle out of the leather bag at her hip. “I don’t suppose you folks have much on you in the way of food and supplies,” she said, offering a share of jerked meat and dried plums.

Cedar took some of the jerky and was happy to see Mae take both meat and fruit.

“We left all that we had behind,” Cedar said. “Do you know where the captain will be taking the ship for repairs?”

“Probably Old Jack’s,” she said. “He makes a profit keeping his landing field open and his mouth shut. He’ll have food, supplies. Medicines too,” she said with a nod to Rose.

“Sounds like a good choice, then,” Mae said softly.

Molly smiled, and it softened her blunt features. “It is. The captain might be a blowhard, but he’s got a head full of clever.”

“How long have you known him?” Cedar asked.

“Too long, Mr. Hunt,” Molly said with a grin. “Now about Robert Gregor. How was he when you saw him?”

“He was well,” Cedar said. “He and his wife have a son.”

“Oh, that’s good news! Another addition to the Gregor clan. What’s his name?”

“Elbert,” Rose said.

That got them all turning back to the hammock. Rose’s eyes were closed, and her skin still looked an awful shade of gray.

“Elbert’s a fine name,” Molly said, glancing a question at Cedar.

“Miss Small had a fondness for Mr. Gregor,” Cedar said. “He holds her in high esteem also. Showed her the way around his smithy.”

“Did he now?” she asked. “Well, if you’ve been taught the secrets of metal by a Gregor, you’re practically one of the family. Think of going into the smithing trade, Miss Small?”

Rose opened her eyes. Glossy with fever, they still carried a hint of her spunk. “Maybe. Although a boilerman on an airship seems a real fine life too.”

“It is,” Molly said. “Would you like to help me check over the boiler today?”

“Yes,” she said, “I’d love to. Though I’m not sure how much help I can be, with this shoulder.”

“Let me tend to it,” Mae said. “I have some herbs. Black salve that might give you some ease.”

“And while Mrs. Lindson sees to your shoulder, I certainly would like to hear more about little Elbert,” Molly said.

The cabin door opened, letting in a gust of wind. Captain Hink leaned his head in, his hand gripping the top of the jamb. “Mr. Hunt. Do you know your way around a hammer?”

“I can do my share,” he said.

“Good. We could use an extra set of hands. Molly, when will she be up to steam?”