“How…” Rose searched for the word. Couldn’t quite find it. “Nice,” she finally said. Her eyes were staying closed longer and longer between each blink. She didn’t think she had much more time being awake. “Thank you, Mr. Hunt,” she said softly. “For…keeping us safe.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Small.”
For a second, Rose thought she heard a man in the distance curse, and then sleep came and took her to gentler lands.
CHAPTER TEN
Cedar knew Wil would keep watch during the few hours between night and dawn, but sleep did not come easily to him.
They were in trouble. No horses, no supplies, and winter coming on. Everything they’d had, they lost when the crew of the Swift pulled them on board. Cedar had some money and his guns. But they didn’t even have a change of clothes, a scrap of food, or a spare pair of socks.
He’d been encouraged by Rose’s waking and being mostly clearheaded, though in pain.
But Mae hadn’t stirred since she’d cast that spell to bring the ship down softly. He didn’t know when she would wake, and when she did, he had no idea what kind of condition she would be in for travel.
The captain had assured him that he would take them to the nearest town after the ship was repaired. Captain Hink didn’t seem to be a man who’d likely prey upon the misfortunes of others. He’d seemed amiable enough in following Molly Gregor’s instructions that they be treated as guests and passengers. But there was something more to him than just a man skimming the western glim fields.
He asked a lot of questions. About the Madders, about the railroad in Hallelujah, and was curious as to any rumors Cedar had heard about men dealing glim in these parts. Many of his questions pointed squarely to the Strange and roundabout to the Holder.
The Madders had said most people wouldn’t recognize the Holder. Cedar bet Captain Hink would. Might even have been looking for it. Not that he’d exactly said as much.
Cedar’s ability to sense the Holder gave him an edge on those others looking for it. Whether his sensitivity to the weapon was a product of the Pawnee curse in his bones, or pure bad luck, he didn’t know and didn’t care.
Being able to track it gave him a position of power if it came down to bargaining for their lives.
All he wanted was to get Mae back to her sisters before she was driven insane, and to see if the witches had a way to break his and Wil’s curse. Along with that, he felt obliged to see that Rose Small was safe as she found her place in the world.
He hadn’t thought much about his future past those things. Maybe he’d find a place in this world where he could start a life again with Wil. Help his brother rebuild a life he’d been cheated out of all these years.
They’d need land, home, and income of some kind.
He could turn back to his scholarly pursuits, or stay outside the hub of civilization and make his living bounty hunting for farmers and ranchers. He could marry.
The image of Mae Lindson came to him. He found himself savoring the memory of her touch as she tended his wounds in Hallelujah, remembered the warmth of her leaned full against him, his arms around her as she wept for her dead husband.
Like counting precious coins, he rolled through the moments he’d caught her, gathering herbs, or gazing at the sky, her face gentle and kind, her voice bent to song. He recalled the sweet sound of her all-too-rare laughter.
He’d been married. Loved his wife well and full. Never thought another woman would pull on his heart.
Mae Lindson called to him like a thirst to water. Not in the same way as his wife. The part of his heart that had loved her had died with her.
He thought, or maybe he only flattered himself in thinking, that some days when Mae was watching him, she was seeing him with the kind of desire he saw her.
He could build a life with her. If she’d have him. If he could still be the kind of man who lived for more than just surviving the rise and fall of the full moon.
The wind outside the airship gusted, and the frame and wood of the ship rocked and creaked a bit. Cedar knew the basic principles behind the steam airships. He’d heard the captain tell his men to drain the airbags—a good precaution so that they didn’t get broadsided by a big gust that might send them tumbling in the night even if they were anchored and lashed.
And he’d heard Molly Gregor say the steam boiler was in good condition. But he knew it took more than steam to keep a ship in the air. It took glim.
Glim harvesters kept enough of their take to augment their fuel. But there were men and women who underestimated how much glim they’d need. They were not above stealing glim from other ships, even if that meant shooting the ship out of the sky.
Captain Hink had told Cedar that the two ships that had given them chase, the Bickern and the Saginaw, were likely pirates out to steal glim and pick over the bones of the crippled ship.
Cedar knew there was more he didn’t say, secrets he didn’t want Cedar to know.
Wil shifted, his claws scraping the floor. Cedar opened his eyes.
The captain’s man, Mr. Seldom, was standing near the far window of the airship, bent a bit so he could see up and out the window. Cedar didn’t know what he was looking for. It might be dawn already, but down in this crater, it was still dark as ink. He wasn’t sure full noon would send down enough sunlight to sweep the shadows off the rocks.
Wil’s ears twitched, and then Cedar heard it too. The far-off buzz and chug of an airship.
He couldn’t tell how close by it might be, nor if it was either of the ships from yesterday.
Seldom shifted, his boot scuffing a soft hush against the floor.
Captain Hink rolled over in his cot and sat up.
Hink placed his hand around the nearest metal beam, and held very still. His head was tipped down as if waiting for the slight thrum of a heartbeat under his fingers.
The two men stood that way, without a twitch, for a full minute or so. Then, at the same time, they both moved. Mr. Seldom turned around and bedded back under his covers, pulling the scarves over his nose to keep the early cold off his face.
But Captain Hink looked over at Cedar. He seemed to consider something, then stood. He buckled his coat closed and dragged his scarf over his nose and mouth. He pointed to the door, pointed at the goggles Cedar wore at his neck, then pointed up.
Cedar stood. Captain Hink wanted Cedar’s eyes on the sky. Wil took two steps to follow him, then looked back at Rose and Mae and chose to stay behind.
Cedar pushed his hat a little tighter against his head and followed Captain Hink out the door. The captain closed it as quickly as he could, keeping the cold wind out of the room.
The rocky ground was foggy with a frost that made walking a slippery process.
The ship had landed on a small level outcropping of stone that didn’t seem wide or long enough for her. Like shooting a billiard ball into the corner pocket blindfolded, the ship’s coming to a stop just a few yards from the solid stone wall of the cliffs behind it was amazing. The bluffs above them did a lot to hide the ship from the narrow window of sky.
It was a dizzying, claustrophobic feeling, like standing at the bottom of a well. The darkness of night lay all around them, while just the slightest pink light blushed the sliver of sky high above.
“Heard a ship pass over,” Captain Hink said as he marched away from the Swift, casting glances at the sky. “Think you can get an eye on it?”
“Might,” Cedar said. “Why are they following us?”
The captain clambered up a fall of stones and stood at the top. “Depends on who it is following us,” he said. “I’ve made my enemies. A man who runs glim has no friends. He takes on a crew, and puts his trust in having a ship under his feet that can outrun or outgun his foes.”