Devon Monk - Cold Copper

Right then he pulled away. The sharp whip of winter wind poured in through the window, cold enough to hurt, as he let her go.

Hink bent, shouldered through the window, then dropped down outside.

A handful of heartbeats ticked off the seconds. And then the whole of the world came back.

Rose glanced up and down the car. Passengers pushed and shoved, some yelling for people to calm down, some just yelling. Several men surrounded both bandits. Someone had hold of the robber’s sack and was beginning the process of convincing the crowd that this could all be sorted out amicably.

She could stay here. It would be wise. Hink said they weren’t far off from Kansas City, and once there she could put this kind of nonsense behind her and keep her hands busy building a brighter horizon.

Or she could jump out that window, find out what he meant about “the real robbery,” and get her eyes on that massive airship.

That would be foolish.

And a chance she’d never get again.

Rose stood on the bench and hoisted herself up into the window, kicking the wet, heavy ruffle of her skirts out of the way and pulling her satchel close to her.

The wind was brutal, slashing from above and all around. She sat in the window and squinted skyward.

Only there was no sky. Swallowing the heaven, from end to end, was a monstrous airship as black as coal. Smoke shrouded and parted in random, ragged patterns as at least a dozen fans roared along its side like the oars of a great vessel, each fan set so it could swivel independently.

Genius, she thought.

The roar of the ship made her want to cover her ears, but she needed both hands to slip her feet up under her and then drop down onto the narrow edge of the train car. She might be able to hold on to the outside of the windows and make her way along the train car, but not for long. She looked around for Hink.

And saw him on the ground running full-out down the line.

What was he running from?

Jumping down off the train would mean no going back. But then, there was a robbery in progress on the train, likely in every car, so going back might just get her killed.

But if she let go of the train, she’d be stranded out here, in the middle of nowhere, chasing a man she wasn’t sure she loved.

Only she did know. She’d known all along.

It was why him leaving her for those other women had hurt so much. It was why she was so angry. Not because she disliked him. Quite the opposite. Because she had never stopped loving the man.

“Blast it all,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’re bound to be the death of me, Lee Hink.”

Rose let go of the window edge and jumped down. It was a longer fall than she expected, but she knew how to manage it without hurting herself and didn’t do more than kick up some snow as she hit ground.

Hink was still running alongside the tracks. He wouldn’t hear her if she shouted.

The airship’s boilers belched out smoke and the fans shifted, delicately adjusting the big blower’s position above the train.

And then she saw why.

A massive rope, large enough to tow a frigate, extended down from the airship to one of the train cars.

The rope had a huge hook on the end that attached to the top of the freight car.

The same freight car where she and Hink had saved Thomas. The same freight car filled with coffins full of body parts and boxes full of strange copper devices.

What could that huge ship do to the train car? Tip it over? Pull the top of it off like a knife prying at a can of beans?

She couldn’t tell from here. So Rose ran. Toward Hink. Toward the freight car.

It was almost impossible to see anything through the coal smoke. She caught a glimpse of Hink as he reached for the ladder rungs on the outside of the freight car and climbed up.

Rose ran the remaining yards between them, then stopped.

The airship boilers changed tempo again. This time a low, rolling growl boomed out in repeating echoes and all the fans shifted position at once.

Then the airship began lifting the entire freight car off the tracks.

Rose didn’t wait. She didn’t think. She leaped at the freight car, grabbed hold of the ladder rungs, and held on for dear life as the earth dropped out below.

Cedar had given up trying to track the herbal combinations, strengths, and conversation of prayer and spells Mae and Father Kyne had been poring over at the kitchen table for the last hour.

It was quickly apparent that Father Kyne had spent some time learning about the herbs and spells witches used. He had told Mae that his father’s stories about the mysterious Madder brothers had fueled his curiosity as a child. A curiosity that had led him to study the ways of witches, Strange, and even glim. He was convinced each of these things was a part of God’s will and world, and therefore it was his responsibility, in some small way, to understand them.

A native-born man taking up the Word of God didn’t surprise Cedar much. But a man of God willingly combining his knowledge of those things beyond a man’s understanding with a witch’s spells was something he’d never thought to imagine.

But then, this land was changing quickly, from frontier to civilization. A man unwilling to adapt could soon be left behind.

“Will this do more for me than the Madders’ chain?” Cedar asked Mae while Father Kyne was retrieving another book from the other room.

“I think so, yes. The chain helps you keep some of your logic and human thoughts. This should keep you from taking beast form at all. You will remain yourself, just yourself, during the full moon. With no compulsion to hunt the Strange.”

Father Kyne came back into the room. “This volume speaks of the herb I think might help us.”

Mae gave him a quick smile, then went back to studying the text.

Cedar pushed up away from the table and paced the pain out of his legs. While they puzzled over whether or not they could really hold off his and Wil’s curse enough to give them both a man’s mind and body during the full moon, he puzzled over why the Madders hadn’t put up even a small fight back at breakfast. It wasn’t like them to just stroll off in shackles to jail because some old enemy said so.

No, they were more the blowing-up and breaking-out kind of men.

If they were in jail it must be because they wanted to be.

But why?

So he’d stay and hunt the Holder? He’d given his promise to do just that. They knew he was a man of his word.

Staying in jail certainly wouldn’t fulfill their promise to Father Kyne to track down the children. Cadoc and Bryn Madder had been adamant about holding to the vows they’d made, even if Alun was not.

There was something the Madders weren’t telling him. Something they felt they could gain by going along with the mayor’s wishes.

The crunch of hooves in the snow brought him to the window. The rider wore a heavy coat, gloves, and black Stetson against the softly falling afternoon snow. The only color on him was his scarf, thickly woven in deep green and gold stripes. One of Vosbrough’s people.

Built light and short, he was not one of the men who had escorted them to the manor this morning. He hitched the horse and retrieved a leather satchel from one of the saddlebags.

“Who is it?” Father Kyne asked.

“Vosbrough’s man. With papers, I’d guess,” Cedar said.

Mae was already headed out of the room. “I’ll get Miss Dupuis,” she said.

Father Kyne closed the books he and Mae had been consulting, then opened the door.

“Welcome here, Mr. Peters,” he said.

The man took the stairs and drew his hat off upon entering the building, but other than a brief nod toward the priest, he treated him as if he wasn’t standing in the room.