Cold Copper: The Age of Steam (27 page)

C
edar knew that whistle. He guided the horses down a side street and up another.

There, in the middle of the road, stood Alun Madder. He had his pipe in one hand, blood drying on his knuckles. One eye looked like it was swelling shut. He also had a huge grin on his face.

“Ho there, Mr. Hunt. Have you found the Holder yet?”

Cedar set the brake on the wagon. “We came to break you out of jail.”

“Kind of you, but as you can see, unnecessary. As we told you, we Madders come and go as we please. The Holder?”

“I know where it is.”

“Is it at hand?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then by all means, be exact, Mr. Hunt.”

“There’s no time. We need to get you…” He glanced up, saw Captain Hink, Rose Small, a man who he didn’t know, and the other Madders.

“Rose,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Currently, I’m running for my life. Mind if we put this man in the back of the wagon? He’s hurt terribly.”

And that’s when Cedar realized it was Father Kyne over Hink’s shoulder.

“Yes, of course,” Mae said, hopping down from the wagon and rushing to the back, where she helped Hink and Rose get Father Kyne settled.

“Did you bring your ship?” Cedar asked as Hink strode by.

“Nope. Flew a train.”

Cedar wasn’t sure he’d heard that correctly.

“We won’t be needing a ship, Mr. Hunt,” Alun said. “We need an answer.” He rested his hand on the side of the wagon. “Where is the Holder?”

“Nearby, but beyond my reach.”

Alun grinned. “You’re beginning to sound like my youngest brother, Mr. Hunt. Can’t have that, he’ll get jealous. Tell me.”

“I’ll tell you when we’re out of town.”

“Perhaps you haven’t been listening to me,” Alun said. “We can’t leave this town.
Can’t
. Not won’t, not might. Can’t. That man?” He tipped his head toward the back of the wagon where Father Kyne was being laid out. “We’re bound by our promise to his words and his exact words were…” He looked over at Cadoc.

“‘You will find every child lost by this city and return them to their family and homes, and will not leave this city until you have done so,’” Cadoc intoned.

Alun nodded. “Those words, Mr. Hunt, those exact words bind us. We must find every last child and bring each home. Our feet won’t cross the boundaries of the city until we do just that.”

“Maybe it’s time you consider breaking a promise.”

“Thought about it,” Alun admitted. “If we let Father Kyne die, then we’d be released from the promise. Should we let the man die, Mr. Hunt?”

“Some might.”

“Maybe we should. But then, that’s the problem with promises. Each side offers up a little something of their soul for them and has a vested stake in the outcome. I don’t see any reason to leave, or to break
our promise to the father back there, if you’re not doing your part to fulfill your promise to bring us the Holder. You say it’s here; I see no reason to leave.”

“I said it’s beyond my reach.”

“Where?”

“Beneath the ice, beneath the river,” Cedar said. “Out of my reach and any other man’s. Now, are you going to get in the wagon or wait for the lawmen to find you standing in the middle of the street?”

“Depends on where this wagon is going.”

“Father Kyne needs medicines,” Mae said. “We go back to the church and tend him.”

“Mae,” Cedar said, “We don’t have time.”

“He’s dying,” she said with a blank sort of matter-of-factness that did little to hide the anger in her eyes. “He’d want to do that in the heart of his church. That much we can give to him for what he’s given us.”

“Doesn’t much matter where a man exhales his last breath,” Alun said.

“I disagree with you, Mr. Madder,” Mae said, and her words were made of iron. “He’ll have the house of God around him.”

Then she climbed up into the seat next to Cedar. “As quickly as you can, Mr. Hunt.”

Alun caught the running board as the wagon started rolling. “Don’t suppose you know what injured him so?” Alun asked.

“He carried the curse while I hunted,” Cedar said. “While Wil and I hunted.”

Alun was silent, then finally shook his head. “The Kyne men are some of the toughest I’ve even known.” It was the first time Cedar had heard respect in Alun’s tone for the father.

“I’ll clamber back,” Alun said. “The church is as good as any place to hole up while you go get us the Holder, Mr. Hunt.”

“I’m not doing that for you, Mr. Madder.”

“If you want this man’s death to be worth anything, if you want the
world to be safe from plague and famine and destruction, you will change your mind, Mr. Hunt. You and I can have a difference of opinion, but in the end, all that matters is the Holder. If we don’t bring it to rest, then the living won’t be living for long. And there will be no hope to save a single soul from the devastation that will befall us all.”

Alun worked his way back along the wagon, nimble and quick, then swung in beneath the cover.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Mae asked.

Cedar nodded. He knew the danger of the Holder being loose, knew the poison it could spread in the land, and in the people. And he knew that if it fell into a man’s hands, a man like Mayor Vosbrough, that the warning Alun Madder had just given them wouldn’t be nearly dire enough.

“First we tend Father Kyne,” Cedar said. “Then we decide what to do about the Holder.”

Mae reached over and slipped her hand up beneath his arm and tucked herself more tightly against his side. He could sense her worry. He could sense her fear. And more than that, he could sense the magic that leaped to her hands, eager to be used.

“Were you able to heal him?” Cedar asked.

“I…I bound his soul to his bones with magic, and that is all I could do with my supplies here. But I will need to release his soul before…before he passes. Otherwise he’ll be trapped there. Dead, but knowing.”

Cedar didn’t say anything. He could feel the shiver of revulsion that ran through her body. Once again he cursed the sisters of the coven who had gone to great lengths to convince Mae the power of binding and vows turned to nothing but evil in her hands. Many times her skill with spells had done just the opposite and seen that a merciful outcome was assured.

“You made a good choice,” Cedar said. “A kind choice. It will give him time—give us time to get him home.”

They rode the rest of the distance at as leisurely a pace as they could afford so as not to attract attention. Though Cedar saw lawmen on foot and on horseback obviously looking for the escaped prisoners, he did what he could to look all the while as if he were just going about his business and nothing more.

It helped that the Madders’ wagon wasn’t much to look at. It blended in well with all the other street traffic.

“Can you feel him?” Mae asked once they had made the far end of town and were turning down the lane that led to the church.

“Who?”

“Father Kyne. I can sense a bind still between you. It’s thin, faint, but there is still something of him that clings to you. To your curse.”

Cedar hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he could feel him. “Some,” he said. “An occasional drifting pain, or warmth or cold. No thoughts, no images.”

She nodded. “His body won’t hold against those wounds for long.” She took a breath, then shook her head slightly and let it out.

“What?” he asked. “What were you going to say?”

“I could—I
think
I could bind health to him, strength to him.”

“Would he heal from it?”

“Yes. I believe he might, if it’s done soon enough.”

“Why do you hesitate?”

“The strength would need to come from somewhere. The health I bind to him would have to come from somewhere. His body is too injured and lacking in resources to heal on its own. He would need another living person to offer their strength to him. And the wounds and pain he bears would slowly drain that person, giving the healing time to take.”

“And if the healing didn’t take?” Cedar asked.

“I think I could break the binding.” Then, she said, stronger: “Yes, I could break it.”

“I’ll do it.”

She thought on that a moment. “We already know you can be bound to him. That he can carry your burden.”

“And I’ll carry his. For a short time. Long enough to know if he can survive.”

Mae squeezed his arm a little. “You are a good soul, Cedar Hunt. A very good soul in this world.”

Though Mae’s words made his heart swell, he wasn’t sure he could agree with her. He had done bad things, many bad things. And one kind gesture didn’t erase his past. Still, he was glad she, at least, found comfort in his decision.

He pulled the wagon up to the back door of the church. No use hiding it. If the sheriff and his men were looking for Father Kyne, they’d come out this way. If they were looking for the Madders, they might be on their way now to see if Cedar and Mae and Miss Dupuis were involved.

They might have only an hour or two or even just minutes before they were found.

Everyone, including the new man, Wicks, got busy taking the supplies—guns, dynamite, blankets—into the church. They moved the wounded Father Kyne as gently as they could on a makeshift sling and took him off to his bedroom, where he was to be laid out upon his bed.

As soon as everything and everyone was inside and the kitchen door had been closed behind them, Rose flew into Mae’s arms and gave her a fierce hug.

“I was so worried about you,” Rose said.

Mae hugged her back, gently rubbing her back. “I thought you were going to stay with the sisters,” she said. “And help Captain Hink repair the
Tin Swift
.”

Mr. Wicks moved around to stand at the opposite side of the table, keeping it between him and Wil, who paced the kitchen hungrily. Cedar knew his brother hadn’t had enough to eat, so he walked off to the kitchen’s larder to see if Kyne had any meats hanging.

A pork hock was wrapped and set on a shelf, and Cedar took it, unwrapped the cloth, and brought it out for Wil.

Wil sniffed it, then took the bone in his jaws and walked—purposely—past Mr. Wicks, eyeing him the whole time, then settled in a corner where he could watch the door and all the people in the room.

“And then I thought I’d be better off on my own,” Rose was saying to Mae. The two women were busy at the stove now, stoking the fire and heating water.

“Can I help?” Cedar asked.

“Not yet,” Mae said. “You should eat, if you have the stomach for it.”

Cedar glanced over at the man standing, not exactly nervously, more like with heightened awareness, behind the table.

“Mr. Wicks, is it?” Cedar asked.

“Thomas,” he said. “Thomas Wicks.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

Cedar gestured toward the larder and Wicks accompanied him there.

“What part of this brings your involvement, Mr. Wicks?” Cedar asked.

“I found myself aboard a train with Miss Small and Captain Hink. I’m afraid I’m just a bit caught up in their wake.”

Cedar found a round of cheese and a loaf of flat bread. He pulled both out, and a handful of dried apples.

“Let’s not lean on falsehoods,” Cedar said. “You have a stake in this, or you’d have run down your own road and let us go our way.”

“You’re a perceptive man, Mr. Hunt,” he said. “Perceptive enough to know a man doesn’t reveal his secrets indiscriminately.”

“Then I’ll set my stake in this straight for you, Mr. Wicks. I am bound to the Madder brothers by a promise given. I will lay my life down for most the people in this church.” He turned so he could glare
down at the slight stranger. “And if you cross me, or otherwise cause harm to these people, I will break you in two and feed you to my wolf.”

Mr. Wicks swallowed, his color going a shade paler than just a moment before. “Do I look like a man you need to threaten, Mr. Hunt?”

“You said I was a perceptive man. Has your opinion changed?”

Mr. Wicks smiled, and there was cunning, maybe even delight, in his eyes. He was impressed Cedar had seen through his bumbling greenhorn act.

“No, Mr. Hunt. It hasn’t changed a bit. Where did you school?”

Here it was Cedar’s turn to be impressed. “East.”

Wicks nodded. “Strange how our roads lead us onward, isn’t it?”

“I’ve no complaints.”

“Other than fraternizing with escaped criminals?”

“Is that what you are?”

The corner of his mouth twitched again. “No. Not exactly.”

“Then this isn’t fraternizing. Exactly.” Cedar handed him the dried apples and pushed past him out of the larder.

Cedar drew his pocketknife and shaved off a thick wedge of cheese while he walked back to the kitchen, then placed the cheese and bread on the table. The cheese was a bit sharp but surprisingly rich. To better fill his stomach, he tore off a chunk of the bread and ate that too. Then Mae was pressing a small cup of tea into his hands.

“You won’t need to drink much of this, just a swallow or two. It’s very bitter.”

Cedar sniffed it and pulled his eyebrows up. “What’s it for?”

“The binding.”

“Binding?” Mr. Wicks said. “What do you mean by that?”

Mae glanced over at the man. “I mean that I’m a witch, Mr. Wicks. And I intend to cast a spell to bind health to Father Kyne. Mr. Hunt has offered to be a part of that spell.”