“Then why pick us up?”
Cedar watched the man shift his stance a bit. The wolf in his blood gave him better than average eyesight, so even here in the dark he could see how the captain paused. Likely he was working out a story to answer that question.
“Truth of it? It was an accident,” he said. “I’d heard there might be something or someone I was looking for in Vicinity. When I saw the tipped wagon and angry mob, I got curious. You came pounding out of that jail with two women, one of whom was injured.” He was still looking at the sky, but he shrugged his big shoulders. “Seemed the decent thing to do.”
“What were you looking for?”
“Mostly same as you, I reckon,” he said. “Looking for the Holder. Heard tales of it. Heard it’s valuable. I’m a man who recognizes valuable opportunities when they present themselves.”
“It’s a weapon,” Cedar said.
Captain Hink glanced down at him. “You know that for sure, or you seen it with your own eyes?”
“Both.”
“A man who’s seen the legendary Holder? That’s what I call a valuable opportunity.”
“Depends on whose hands it falls into.”
“True. You suppose you’re the sort of man who should be responsible for that kind of a weapon, Mr. Hunt?”
“No. And neither are you.”
Captain Hink chuckled. “True. Wait.” He held very still, his body as taut as a plucked string. “Do you hear her?”
Cedar Hunt did indeed hear the ship. Coming in from the south. He pulled his goggles over his eyes and peered at the sky. “How many ships know about this bolt-hole?” he asked.
“Too many. And they know the Swift can pocket it.”
“Do they have charges?” Cedar asked.
“They shouldn’t. Glim harvest isn’t like shoveling for gold. No need for dropping dynamite when you’re digging the skies.”
“There she is,” Cedar said. The airship skimmed the edge of the chasm, lights flashing from the windows in her sides like stars stuck on a wedge of night.
“Doesn’t look like the Bickern, too small,” Cedar said.
“The Saginaw?”
“I didn’t get much of a look at her. Distinctions?”
“Narrow hull, three steamer, so you should be able to see three stacks if she shows her rump. She’s an open deck, so you’ll see sunlight between the hull and the airbags.”
“What type of propellers on her?” Cedar asked.
“Quad. Two front, two rear.”
“I see fans, front and rear, but I only see one stack…no, two.” The ship tipped out of sight, but for a bare second he caught the flash of sunlight between the deck and bags. “Open hull.”
“It’s the Saginaw,” Captain Hink said. “Hear the cough in her throttle?”
Cedar listened. The ship gave off the strange chugging and hum that all airships emitted. “No.”
“Well, I do. It’s Captain Smith. Don’t know what I did to cook his cockles.”
“Maybe he’s looking for what you were looking for,” Cedar said.
“The Holder?” Captain Hink started down the tumble of rocks, kicking pebbles free. “Don’t think so. Most men think that’s just a bluff. A contraption to keep men spooked and under the president’s thumb.”
“The president?” Cedar asked. “What’s his part with the Holder?”
“He owns it, Mr. Hunt. Or so much as. This is his country, and to keep the peace, he has the right to control the weapons.”
“And what makes you think the Holder’s not a bluff?” Cedar asked.
“Besides you saying you’ve seen it? Records. Drawings sketched out by men learned in the wild sciences. I came across a man once who swore he’d seen it. Said it was headed out west in the possession of a peculiar aristocratic sort of man. A railroad tycoon.”
He stopped next to Cedar. “The power a man would carry in the palm of his hand if he had the Holder is enough to take all the states, and the world beyond for the spoils.”
“So how well do you know the president?” Cedar asked.
Captain Hink paused. He considered his answer just long enough for Cedar to know he’d hit a nerve. Regardless of what Captain Hink might say, he knew the president. Possibly had served under him. Maybe still did.
“Not well at all,” the captain lied cheerily. “But if I get my hands on the Holder, I’m going to march right up the hill and sit down to tea with the gentleman himself.
“We’ll need to patch the Swift enough to get her to a repair site,” he continued. “Old Jack’s isn’t too far off. We’ll have to do it quiet and slow. Crawl the cliffs and stay out of the clears, but we might make it by nightfall.”
“Then what?” Cedar asked.
“Then I drop you and yours off at the nearest town, we shake hands and let our paths take us where they may.”
Cedar didn’t think there were towns in these parts big enough to offer up the mounts and supplies they’d need to make it to Kansas. There might be a doctor for Rose, but if what Alun had said was true, they’d need the Holder to get that piece of tin out of her.
He’d promised the Madders he’d find the Holder for them. And he planned on doing just that. But he’d also promised he’d do anything necessary to get Rose the medical attention she needed. This was his last bargaining chip for her life.
“I can find it,” Cedar said.
Hink had taken three strides back toward the Swift, but he stopped dead.
“Find what?”
“The Holder.” He’d promised to find it for the Madders, but he had promised no man he’d give it into their possession. Wasn’t much promising he’d give it to Captain Hink either. Only that he’d look and find. After that, there’d be bargains to be made.
“I’ve seen it. I’ve smelled it. I know what it is. I can find it.”
Hink turned around, his head tipped just a little, as if he wasn’t clear that he was hearing correctly.
“I’m to take your word on this, Mr. Hunt?”
“If you think it’s a valuable opportunity.”
“Huh.” Captain Hink tucked his thumbs in the rigging gear at his hips. “What would it cost me to hire your services?”
“I find the Holder, and you take us to Kansas as fast as your ship can fly.”
“To Mrs. Lindson’s family?”
“That’s right.”
“Are you sure you have your bargain in order?” Captain Hink asked.
“I’m sure.”
The captain started off toward the ship again. “Most men would ask for the payment first, and service second.”
“I’m not most men.”
“So there’s a reason you want to find the Holder before taking Mrs. Lindson to her home?”
“Yes.”
“And what reason is that, Mr. Hunt?”
“Rose Small will die if I don’t.”
Cedar was watching Hink in profile as he said those words. The captain had placed his hand on the ship’s door. But his shoulders pulled back and his chin jerked up.
“Are you a doctor, Mr. Hunt?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then why should I believe your prognosis?”
“Because she has a piece of the Holder in that wound.”
“Impossible.” He turned. “The Holder can’t be broken. Each piece has been constructed so that nothing short of the fires of hell can melt it, no hammer can break it, and no vise can bend it. It’s made of Strange elements, Mr. Hunt. It isn’t just a tinker’s toy.”
For a man who had only seen sketches of it, he seemed to know an awful lot about it.
“It’s broken into seven pieces,” Cedar said, watching his eyes, the pace of his breathing. The Holder meant more to the captain than just a fancy bauble he could bargain with the president for over tea. The Holder was important enough to him that even implying it had been broken, tampered with, possibly destroyed, made him angry.
Not, not just angry. It made him fearful.
He had something on the line in finding the Holder, or in keeping it whole.
“Someone broke it into smaller bits,” Cedar said. “This one piece of it, at least. Someone who found this section of it tinkered with it. And I don’t think it’s an accident. That piece inside Miss Small was meant to kill. I think it was meant to kill me.”