Devon Monk - Tin Swift

It was only when Cedar Hunt spoke to her that she could navigate her way through the overwhelming noise and visions. Or when he touched her that she could feel the world solid around her.

And here, where by the grace of the Goddess, she was free of the voices for however a long or short time, she realized how very far gone she had been. If not for Cedar, if not for Rose, she wouldn’t have even made it this far on the path the sisters forced her feet to follow.

It was a chilling horror to know that her mind was slipping away. Even more frightening to realize these might be her last lucid moments.

But if this was all the time she had left, she’d tend to Rose. With herbs and with magic. Bind health to her bones, curse the infection. She had enough herbs in her satchel to work the spells and blessings needed. She didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to her before.

It wouldn’t remove the piece of the Holder, but it would help her stay strong.

“Didn’t mean to set you silent,” Captain Hink said.

“Not at all,” Mae replied. “I was just going through the things I’ll need to tend Rose.”

“Well, I hope your list is done and checked. This here is his office.”

The hall branched off to the left, heading back into the mountain, she assumed. Right in front of them was a metal door that looked like it belonged on a bank vault.

“Old Jack likes his privacy.” Hink stepped up and pulled on a chain beside the door. Mae thought she heard the clatter of a bell on the other side.

Soon bolts slid aside and gears clicked as a chain tightened.

And then a young, dark-skinned man opened the door and stepped aside so they could walk into the room.

Hink nodded for Mae to cross the threshold first, and she did so, the captain right on her heels.

The room was a stockpile of bags, crates, and shelves. It looked more like a general store, though it was the largest general store she’d ever seen, reaching two stories high.

She paused, unsure of where his office might be in the mess.

“Straight on,” Hink said. “There’s a door down that way. His office is beyond it.”

“Perhaps you could lead?” she asked.

Captain Hink stepped up and around her, avoiding knocking over a precarious stack of clay jugs.

He dusted his hands as if he’d found spiders there. “Place knows how to put a chill up a man’s spine,” he said. “Never know if something bumped is just the sort of thing that explodes.”

The door shut behind them with the snick of latches, bolt, and locks.

“And I hate that damn door,” he muttered.

Mae glanced over her shoulder. The servant stood next to the door, giving her a cool, disinterested gaze. If they wanted to get out of this room in a hurry, there would be no way to get through that much metal.

She suddenly realized she didn’t have a gun on her.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t take care of herself. Whereas magic was usually the last thing she would turn to in time of trouble, it seemed easy to think on it now, to want to use it, like an itch beneath her fingertip.

In her hands even good spells went wrong.

Like what she had done to the captain.

“Captain,” she said quietly as they wove their way between a pile of burlap and a row of barrels that smelled like lime, the servant following at a polite, but easy firing range behind them.

“Mm?”

“I’d like to apologize for…for what happened on the ship. What I did to you.”

That got him to stop full up and turn toward her. He was wide enough that doing so completely blocked her path. “What are you talking about, Mrs. Lindson?”

“I…I worked magic on you, Captain.”

A slow smile slid up his mouth and she caught a sparkle in his eyes. “Did you now?”

She’d seen this before. For all that folk always seemed to want to burn any woman who might be accused of being a witch, they’d just as soon not believe that magic was real.

“Yes, I did. And I am sorry. I haven’t been in my right mind lately. I never would have done that if I’d been clearheaded. Or if we hadn’t been about to crash.”

“Hold on now,” he said, camping back a bit on one foot. “You mean to tell me you think you cornered that landing?”

“No. You did that, Captain. You and the ship. Tied together as close as heart and vein by the spell I cast on you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “There some reason why you’re going to apologize for us hitting the earth with our bones unbroke?”

“Not for that, no. Of course not. But you are bound, Captain. Tied to the ship. And I’m not sure how I would go about unbinding you, though I’d be happy to—”

“Why don’t we just let it be as it is,” he interrupted. “We’re on the ground, we’ll be repairing the ship come daylight and flying her out dawn after next. I’m sure whatever it is you think you’ve done will have passed by then.”

Mae opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong, but another man was walking from the far end of the room toward them.

“Come to speak to Old Jack, Captain?” the man asked.

He had a wild head of dark hair and a neatly trimmed and greased handlebar mustache that stretched from ear to ear.

“Captain Beaumont,” Hink said, “I don’t believe you’ve been introduced to Mrs. Lindson. Mrs. Lindson, Captain Beaumont and his crew landed to pass the night here.”

“How do you do?” Mae said, nodding to the gentleman.

“My pleasure, Mrs. Lindson,” he said. “Captain Hink, I had no idea you were traveling with such captivating passengers. I do a bit of passenger service myself, Mrs. Lindson. Where is it you’re headed?”

“Toward family, Captain.”

“Southwest,” Hink added, though that was not the truth. “Could have sworn I already mentioned that.”

The captain smiled, the mustache shrugging over his lip. “Ah, and perhaps you did. It’s been a very long day. The details fly from me like leaves on a breeze. Good evening to you, Captain Hink, Mrs. Lindson.”

“Good evening, Captain,” Mae said.

Hink started off again. “And to you, Beaumont.”

The man squeezed past crates of walnuts toward the door. “Come, boy,” he said to the servant who had been following them. “See me to the door.”

Mae watched as he walked away. Captain Hink obviously didn’t trust the man, since he’d told them they were headed southwest, when Kansas was really southeast of here.

Captain Beaumont obviously didn’t trust Captain Hink either, since he’d asked Mae where they were traveling. Likely, he had been trying to catch Captain Hink in a lie.

As far as Mae knew, there was no reason for Captain Hink to think their destinations were worth hiding. Which meant that Captain Hink might want to hide his own doings from the man.

Were all airship captains so distrustful?

Not for the first time, she wished they hadn’t stopped in Vicinity. Wished they’d just ridden straight through and on down to Kansas. It’d still be many miles left to go on horseback. A month at least, but they wouldn’t be tangled up with glim pirates, reclusive miners, and the sorts of men that other men felt warranted lying to.

“Coming, Mrs. Lindson?” Hink asked.

“Yes.” She caught up to his long-legged stride. He knocked on the polished rosewood door carved with an image of elephants and tropical trees.

More bolts and locks snicked and clicked, and the door opened again.

But instead of letting them in, Old Jack stepped out. “Why is it a man has to be bothered every damn second? What do you want, Captain Hink?”

He shut the door behind him, but not before Mae caught a glimpse of another servant in the room. The room seemed relatively sparse, but the servant was leaning out the window and lighting a wick that burned a strange green-yellow color.