Devon Monk - Cold Copper

“Then we’ll leave you to it.” Alun handed his tea to Cadoc, who had finished off a chunk of bread, and swigged the tea to chase it.

“Mr. Hunt,” Alun said as Cedar walked into the room. “It’s time you bring us the Holder. We are done waiting.”

“Under ice,” Cedar said.

Rose glanced up at the hoarseness of his voice. He looked like he’d gained a year in just the few moments since she’d last seen him. She’d seen pain age a man like that, but not so quickly.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he held his shoulders back and to the side as if any other position just set off more pain.

Wil, beside him, walked carefully. He too looked to be in pain, but not nearly as bad as Cedar.

“Aye, Mr. Hunt. So you’ve said,” Alun agreed. “You’ll find a way to draw it up from that river and quickly, before the life you’re giving to Father Kyne gets in the way of your promise to us.”

“Unless you have a device that can do that for me, Mr. Madder,” Cedar said, his voice little more than a low rumble in the room, “then the Holder stays right where it is until spring melt.”

“I’ll do it,” Mae said.

Alun’s eyes went wide, and he leaned so he could see around Cedar to Mae standing in the doorway.

“I can…there are spells that might bind it. Cedar, I’ll go with you and Wil. We will find a way to retrieve the Holder.”

“Good,” Alun said. “It’s all settled then.”

“Settled? How?” Cedar moved across the room—slowly, Rose noted—and poured himself a cup of hot water.

“You, Wil, and Mae will retrieve the Holder,” Alun said. “Brothers Bryn and Cadoc and I will search for the children, which is what we’ve promised, and the others will do”—he waved his hand dismissively—“whatever it is they choose to do.”

“We know where the children are,” Cedar said after he took a long drink.

“What’s that you say?” Bryn Madder asked.

“The children,” Cadoc echoed. “Where have you found them?”

“There’s a stand of woods just east a ways. The road past the tinker’s shop leads to it after a fact. About a half mile in, there’s a tumble of stones with a small opening. A Strange pocket. Wil went into that tumble and saw the children sleeping—he thought they were sleeping—in a chamber beneath those stones.”

“Outside of town?” Alun asked.

“That’s what I said.”

Alun and the other two Madders all nodded once at the same time. “Done,” they said. Then they buckled coats and pressed hats tighter over bushy hair.

“Farewell to you, one and all,” Cadoc Madder said.

He stepped out the door and Bryn simply gave a half salute, half wave and was out on the heels of his brother.

Alun was last to leave. He paused at the door. “Rose,” he said. “Hurry up now; there isn’t time to waste.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“We’ll need a spare pair of hands. And you’re just the person for it. Grab your coat. We’ll be waiting in the wagon.”

Rose looked over at Cedar, who gave her a shrug, then at Hink, who was still slouching in the chair.

“I should stay with you. Mae told me children were missing,” she said, “and it’s part of a promise between the Madders and Father Kyne, but I don’t know how I’m going to be any good in finding them.”

“If the Madders find the children,” Hink said, “and they’re alive, do you think they’re going to follow those old coots back to town? I’d say the children might take comfort in a woman being there.”

“But if I leave, leave you…”

He raised his eyebrow. “Rose Small. Go find that horizon and stop worrying about me. I’m in the middle of a church with plenty of people and plenty of guns. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Father Kyne and fellow fugitives,” a voice bellowed from the front of the church. “This is Sheriff Burchell. I’ve got all my lawmen and half the town out here. We know you’re in there. We have the church surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will burn this place down.”

“Well,” Wicks said, putting on his bowler hat and pulling a gun out of the satchel he carried, “that could possibly go wrong.”

Cedar knew the sheriff wasn’t intending to negotiate with them. Half the people in the room, including the Madder brothers, had fought their way out from behind his city’s bars. He was most likely hoping they’d walk out, hands up, so he could shoot them in cold blood and not have to worry about stringing the gallows.

Alun held the back door open for Rose. “Now’s the time to decide. Wagon’s rolling.”

Rose grabbed her coat and rushed across the room. She must want to say good-bye to Mae and Mr. Hunt. She must want to say good-bye to Hink. But the entire kitchen was in a jumble of people hurrying up to either run for the back door or take a stand.

“What about Father Kyne?” Mae asked as she snatched up a cloth tied around a bundle of herbs for her spell casting.

“We’ll stay with him.” Miss Dupuis walked into the kitchen with her rifle and sidearm. “We’ll protect him.”

“I’ll stay with you, Miss Dupuis,” Mr. Wicks said. “See if I can talk some sense into the men out there. Either with words or bullets. Whichever seems to get more results.”

“Go,” Hink said as he stood. He wavered a bit and planted his palm on the table to keep himself steady. “Get the children. Get the Holder. Get whatever it is we need so we can get the hell out of here. We’ll be fine.” Then he added a little more gently, “I’ll be fine, Rose. Go.”

Cedar wondered if she heard the good-bye in his tone.

Cedar strode to the door and put his hand on Rose’s shoulder. She pressed her lips together, then let out a breath. And with that look of determination she often wore, she turned and ran after Alun Madder, who was already on the slowly rolling wagon, his hand held down for her to catch. As soon as Rose was safely up in the wagon, Bryn Madder snapped the reins and set the horses to galloping. Straight at three mounted lawmen who stepped out from behind the barn to stop them.

Cedar knew what the Madders were doing. They were causing a distraction so he, Mae, and Wil could reach the barn, the horses, and hurry out to the river.

Mae had her gun drawn and so did Cedar as they made a run for the barn. The sheriff had been stretching the truth a bit. The church wasn’t completely surrounded, and there were no other men around the barn.

The horses inside the barn were saddled. He didn’t know who had taken the time to see to it, other than maybe Miss Dupuis and Mr. Wicks. Whoever it was, he silently thanked them. There was an ax hanging on the wall, and he took that before swinging up into the saddle. Mae was already astride her horse.

Then they rode as quickly and quietly as they could out of the barn and across the field through spindly trees and shadows, Wil leading a winding path to the river.

Cedar was breathing hard. Everything was more difficult with the tie between him and Father Kyne. He felt Father Kyne’s pain, felt the draining weariness of his wounds as if they were his own. And the aches and pains he’d been enduring since he came to town felt even worse. Wil felt Kyne’s pain too, but seemed to tolerate it much better than he did.

Cedar could bear this pain for a few hours, maybe for a day or two if he could spend them in a sickbed, but if Kyne didn’t begin to mend or heal in that time, Mae would have to break the spell. Cedar felt a need to repay the debt of Kyne carrying their curse, but both of them, or all three of them, dying wouldn’t do the world a bit of good.

They urged the horses into a slow lope, following Wil as he carved a path through trees and brush toward the river.