Seleste deLaney - [Badlands 02] (12 page)

He nodded at Noah. “Call me Carson. I try to keep the ‘Marshal’ nonsense for official business, and then only when necessary.”

The boy popped the top of the crate with a crowbar. “Glad to hear it. We don’t stand much for formality on this ship, it’s how Henri became Henri.” When Carson raised a brow—more interested than he should have been, considering the way she’d left things...again—Noah laughed. “She came aboard all high and mighty and full of herself. First time the cap’n called her Henrietta, she let it pass, but then Mahala did it one night at dinner and her face just ’bout turned purple she was so angry. Announced then and there that the crew was not to call her Henrietta. We all knew she expected us to use Dr. Mason or Miss Mason or some such nonsense, but Zeke just stood up and said, ‘Whatever you say, Henri.’ Been her name ever since.”

Carson’s lips twitched, imagining Henrietta, fresh out of school and society, dealing with this motley crew early on. No wonder she’d been so quick to verbal sparring. She’d honed her words with a group who likely gave her no quarter at all. He needed to dive into what was left of the research stored in the crates and boxes but, with thoughts of the cheeky doctor in mind, he couldn’t resist the lure of finding out more. “What’s she like?”

“Henri?” At his nod, Noah let out a low whistle and hopped up on a crate. “How long you got? I mean there’s Henri the Brilliant who knows medicine like I know every seam on the
Dark
Hawk
and can make machines out of nothing but a pile of scrap. Then there’s the uptight bitch she used to be before Ever came around and the world went to shit. I think more than anyone else, Ever was the one that changed her.”

“The warrior woman?”

“Yeah. She makes you look like a right gentleman. She’s a danged princess, but she leads the border guards and is tough as they come. Killed more men in her time than anyone I ever knew. Story is she even had to kill one man twice if you can believe that.”

Carson couldn’t look the boy in the eyes. He could well believe it since he’d seen more than one of Lupo’s men fall just to come back and fight again. Gambini wasn’t the only one who had a hard time dying. He was simply the most resilient of the lot.

“When Ever first came on board, bloodier than you were and still fighting, I didn’t think anyone could tame her, but the cap’n has. Well, least as much as a wildcat can be tamed. That’s a match that makes ’em both better people. Hell, between you and me, if Queen Laurette ever wanted to step down, the two of them could do a fine job ruling the Badlands.”

Carson didn’t care who sat on the throne. As far as he was concerned, the monarchy had done a better job than anyone could’ve expected when the Union started sending prisoners across the Mississippi. But the information on Henrietta was another matter entirely, and he only wanted to know more.

They talked a while longer, but the kid didn’t provide any more insight into the good doctor. Eventually, Captain Pierce called Noah to the bridge and Carson dove into the crates. At first, he unloaded mech after mech with care and replaced them in a similar fashion. Soon enough, frustration ate at him and he began tearing through the remnants of Senator Mason’s life with a vengeance, desperate to find what they needed to protect Henrietta and put Lupo behind bars. A couple hours later, he slid down the wall near the ladder, landing with a thump amid a mess of straw and clockworks.

Tremors rang through the ladder and a tin cup appeared at his shoulder. He took it without looking up. “Thanks.”

“Did you find what you sought?” The accent and gruff tone identified the speaker before he even looked up: one of the warrior women, Catherine.

“No. Nothing that the mafia would be after. There are still the papers, but I’m not sure I’ll recognize what I’m looking for within the scientific jargon. It’s why I’d hoped to have an actual scientist here with me for the hunt.” He looked in the cup then drained it without a thought. Water. He’d really wanted something stronger.

Catherine took the cup, twirling it around her finger like a gunslinger showing off with a pistol. “Noah mentioned you asked about Henrietta.” When Carson started muttering, she laughed. “He is a talkative one. Secrets are not his strong suit—especially if he does not know they are secrets. However, if you have exhausted yourself here and still wish to learn more about her, might I suggest searching her quarters?”

“What makes you think I want to learn more about her?”

Her lips twitched up into what might have become a smile on someone else. “I am the security officer on this ship. I see and hear everything, Marshal.” She let out a snort of laughter. “Especially when people leave the door open during moments they mean to keep private.”

Hells, he hadn’t thought about someone watching them kiss. Raking a hand through his hair, he wanted nothing more than to rush from the hold and find everything he could about his golden butterfly. Instead, he stared at the mess. Nothing to show for the damned effort other than more confirmation that William Mason was a brilliant, sadistic madman who created monstrosities for fun and profit. “I don’t think the captain would approve of me going through her things.”

Catherine stepped away from the wall and reached a hand toward him. “The Masons have brought nothing but trouble to the Badlands. My position aboard the
Dark
Hawk
at the moment gives me the authority to allow you wherever you need to investigate. If Captain Pierce dislikes it, he can set me down on the plains or the mountains. I wanted off this flying contraption at camp.”

With one last glance at the disarray in the loading bay, Carson gripped her fingers and pushed to his feet. “Lead on.”

As they climbed the ladder and made their way down the corridor, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d find in Henrietta’s quarters. What sort of things did the daughter of an evil scientist keep close?

Catherine pushed open a door and waved him in. “Though I do not mind the idea of being grounded, I will attempt to keep the captain occupied long enough for you to have a thorough look around.”

“Thank you for this.”

“Just keep the idiocy of the Union from invading our borders any further than it already has and protect our queen. Do so, and I will consider the debt for any favors I provide paid in full.” With that, the door closed heavily behind her.

Carson breathed deeply. A light note of jasmine hung in the air under the scent of wood and gear oils. His lips twitched to the side. A lady amidst the weight of the machines around her. Like the gala only different. If he closed his eyes, he could see her in the room. But he needed more than that.

Nothing under her neatly made bed. Her desk provided a trove of papers and a box of clockworks that he left to peruse after examining the remainder of the room.

He opened her closet, feeling a bit vulgar about the invasion but desperate to know everything about her. Skirts and corsets hung in an array of color. Some were brand new. Others must have once been vibrant, but the dyes had faded and the material frayed in places—many patched or mended with more care given to durability than appearance. A box on the floor held the sewing supplies and a thin book.

At her desk, he spread out the papers. Notes on projects and more diagrams than he wanted to count. He couldn’t help but compare them to the designs he’d seen in the crates below. Where the senator’s machines were coarse with hard edges, these drawings had softer, more graceful lines. Where his were machines that distorted life, hers imitated it in every turn of a wire and placement of a gear.

Carson freed a half-destroyed clockwork from the box in her desk. At its core, he could see the influence of her father’s work. The guts of the thing were harsh and utilitarian, built for purpose with little thought to anything else. A mangled needle poked from one end, and as he twisted the device, he saw both its form and function—an insect for stitching. Considering her position aboard the ship, likely medical stitching. Why it was crushed so badly, he didn’t know, but the care put into designing it still shone clear in the delicate wings, the wires shimmering in the glow of the gaslamps.

Not the work of someone who hated life, rather someone who revered it.

It brought to mind other mechanicals he’d seen, and not those on the few of Lupo’s men whose bodies had been recovered by the authorities. No, these were older...

“
And
you’re
certain
this
machine
can
cut
away
all
of
the
tumor
?”
He
frowned
at
the
contraption
on
the
table
,
so
delicate
,
so
small
.

“
Absolutely
,
young
man
.
As
I
told
Lily’s
parents
,
this
surgical
procedure
is
groundbreaking
,
the
equipment
even
more
so
.
I
promise
you
,
lad
,
if
anything
can
save
the
lady’s
life
,
it
is
this
glorious
invention
.”
Senator
Mason
clapped
him
on
the
shoulder
.

Would Mason and his machines be constantly on his mind when he looked at Henrietta? Would she forever be a reminder of Lily? He couldn’t think about it now, not after he’d made it clear he wanted to pursue her.

Spying the thin tome on the bed, he discarded the clockworks and drawings and opened the book, hoping for something to make him see her as more than the daughter of the man who’d saved Lily’s life then helped the mafia take it. Page upon page of tight, neat script lined the paper. He turned to one headed April 20 and settled in to read, his brow furrowed at the personal nature of the entry.

Today
we
laid
Ezekial
to
rest
.
Against
Ever’s
judgment
,
Spencer
returned
him
to
Texas
.
The
moment
we
crossed
the
border
,
it
was
as
if
I
could
feel
him
around
us
,
urging
us
toward
his
home
.
It
gave
me
a
brief
moment
of
peace
to
think
that
,
if
he
came
to
say
goodbye
,
he
hadn’t
excluded
me
from
the
farewell
.
Like
he
didn’t
hate
me
for
the
end
I’d
brought
him
...

Chapter Twelve

Tobias came to lying on the ground. The sun barely touched this corner of the mountain, yet its glare lent a haze to the air, making it waver. He must have fallen from the transport while he slept. His entire body was weak and aching. How was he supposed to make it the rest of the way like this? When had he eaten last? Exhaustion, hunger, thirst all played havoc with his senses.

And now hallucinations preyed on his mind.

What other explanation existed for the slight woman with windswept chestnut hair and wide brown eyes who stared down at him. She reminded him of the princess...Ever, only without the tattoos or the cloud of hostility.

“I would ask if you are injured, but that seems clear enough. What is your name?”

When the vision spoke, the sun cast a halo around her and a spike of fear punched through his chest. He hadn’t been hurt in the escape. He couldn’t be dead, not from one day without food and water. But nothing other than an angel or demon would present itself to him in the guise of a softer Princess Everette.

“Are you mute? That will prove troublesome until we can obtain paper for you to write. I trust by your attire you are a learned man at the very least.” She tipped her head to the side and raised her gaze, looking beyond him and into the shadows of the mountain. “As I said, he seems harmless enough, but this is my sister’s transport which means he has much to tell us.”

Now a different woman stepped forward, her arms lined with marks as Ever’s had been, her face just as hard. “Do you wish for us to interrogate him here, Your Majesty?”

Majesty
?
The
other
sister
.
The
queen
. Then the warrior woman’s other words hit him and fear flared again, holding him mute.
Interrogation
?

The queen glanced at Tobias once more, the expression he’d mistaken as softness revealed for what it really was: calm certainty. “No. If he has friends—or enemies—they may not be far behind. Collect him, hydrate him and take him to the fortress. I will participate in the questioning as it clearly concerns Everette’s welfare. In the meantime, I want the advance guard doubled.” Her eyes got a faraway look as she shifted her gaze to the horizon. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Half a dozen warriors slipped from the shadows and surrounded Tobias, blocking out the sun, and he couldn’t help but share the queen’s attitude. This didn’t seem promising at all.

He didn’t know how long it took for them to reach the fortress—time passed oddly as the warriors jostled him on the makeshift stretcher. An hour, perhaps two or more, but he lost track of the minutes so long ago he couldn’t even guess at how many. The sun was sinking to the west when sounds of other people met his ears at last. He lifted his head, gaping at the sight before him. They crossed through a fence that was less man-made than manipulated nature. Branches and bushes wove together until one couldn’t be discerned from another.

His neck too weak to support the weight of his head, he let it fall to the side, watching as people darted past, no one taking any note of the man on the stretcher, as if such things were normal here. Then he realized they all thought he was a common criminal, someone sent across the border to rot in their prisons.

They’d given him water at intervals on the trek and, now, his voice worked fine. “I’m not a crim—”

“Shut your yap. The queen has gone ahead and none of us needs to hear your stories.” The woman leaned so close, her short dark hair tickled his cheek. “But if you did anything to Ever, not even Queen Laurette will be able to protect you from us.”

The choice of silence seemed wisest, so he snapped his mouth shut and took in as much of their surroundings as he could. He counted as the women walked. The yard between the forest barricade and the inner gate measured roughly five hundred paces. Approximately three hundred yards of open ground with only the occasional tree to break things up and provide minimal coverage from anyone searching by air. Short enough to run, but wide enough to be caught if any guards were watching. Not exactly the easiest path out once he had what he needed. A smart man would try a different tack to gain his freedom—perhaps by winning the support of the queen.

His captors stepped into the fortress proper and the doors clanged shut behind them, encasing them all in darkness. The women moved as if nothing had changed, and he realized the stone walls were cast with a dim glow. As they moved farther in, he could discern colors: red, green and gold. These were no gaslamps. The walls themselves were awash in light.

Tobias managed to keep his mouth shut until the women left him alone and untied in a small room. The glowing walls beckoned and, though dizziness still rocked him, he stood and approached the nearest light. Not the wall itself. Instead something grew on the stone in fuzzy, glowing patches. Tobias reached out to touch one.

“I wouldn’t recommend that. They can react badly to unfamiliar touch.” Tobias jerked his hand back at the quiet, throaty voice. “I’d hate to have the guards rush in because you plunged us into darkness. Come. Sit.”

Turning, he gazed on the queen as she stood before the table in the middle of the room. “The guards allowed you in here alone? Does that mean you’ve realized I’m not dangerous?”

She leaned against the wall behind her and laughed, trailing her fingers in one of the patches of light. It glowed brighter at her touch. “While they are always watching me, being queen does have its perks. Such as reminding everyone that I have other means of protection.”

For a long moment, he stared at her, waiting for her to draw a weapon or show some other sign of wariness. When none came, he moved to the table and pulled out a chair. Only when he sat and felt the brush of fur through the rips in his trousers did he understand that she hadn’t come alone after all. Tobias cleared his throat, resisting the urge to find out what precisely hid beneath the table. “I didn’t realize we had company, Your Majesty.”

The queen’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Cy is my most faithful companion and never leaves my side when she is in the fortress. And I grow more tired of majesty every day. For now, call me Laurette.”

“Your people won’t appreciate the familiarity of that.”

“My people aren’t here. Only myself, you and Cy.”

Tobias watched her for a moment, searching for a change in her stance or expression, anything that would indicate deceit. The entire time, she just gazed at the animal under the table, making soft noises that meant nothing to him. Perhaps getting in her good graces would be a simple matter after all. He just had to be confident...and not show fear or weakness by looking at the creature. “Thank you, Laurette. If I may ask, what is the source of your light? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You may ask whatever you like, but I see no point in answering when you may well be dead by sunrise.” Bracing her arms on the table, Laurette leaned toward him, the friendly regality replaced by a savageness that hovered as if preparing to disembowel him. “Who are you and what the hell did you do to my sister?”

Her change in demeanor shocked the words from his throat.

“It isn’t what you think...” As he prattled on, weaving a pattern of truth, half-truths and outright lies designed to fool even the most discerning jury, he watched her, waiting for some sign to judge his success or failure. Laurette returned to her place against the wall, crossed her arms and gave away nothing.

Words poured from Tobias’s mouth in a rush and, despite the coolness inside the mountain fortress, sweat beaded on the back of his neck and dampened his filthy shirt. “The princess was alive and well when I left her. I swear.”

The queen stared at him for a long while, and his breath came in short gasps. He’d plowed through his explanation like a man with a gun held to his head, yet there she stood, calm, impassive even. He felt like an idiot. This trip was making him act all out of sorts. This kind of display in court would have him laughed out of the building. At least he’d stuck to the story he’d scripted while he waited for the interrogation.

Her chin jerked as if she’d just woken from a dream, and Laurette began pacing across the room with long strides. The animal under the table moved, standing so one heavy paw pressed against Tobias’s foot. “If what you say is true, you’ve come in advance to aid us against this enemy. Refusing to abandon a fight does seem very like my sister.”

A shuddering breath left him as his heart started to return to its normal rhythm. “Precisely. She said her presence was more necessary there—”

“But it is very unusual that she would send you alone. You—a man. More than that, a man with at best the barest knowledge of our location.” Though her face remained impassive, Tobias felt the leverage he’d gained slipping away. “Still. If you spoke any truth, it would not behoove me to keep you from your search. You will be under guard at all times and, as a precautionary measure until I receive confirmation of your story, you will spend all time beyond your search in the prison here.”

She turned toward the door and motioned with her hand. As Tobias stood, the animal under the table padded to her side.

“What in the name of God?” He stepped backward and fell into the chair again, his eyes wide.

Laurette twisted her head toward him, her hand resting on the scarred shoulder of the puma standing by her side. “Cyclops is not the product of your God. She is what happens when fools who do not understand nature seek to control it.”

She strode to the door, but the cat stared at him, the clockwork ocular affixed to its head swiveling as it focused. Though he managed to suppress a shiver of dread, the way the animal chuffed at him sounded altogether too much like laughter, and Tobias knew it could smell his fear.

As it followed Laurette out the door, Tobias thought of all the hours he’d spent in Senator Mason’s lab. All the experiments—including the cat itself—he’d had a hand in. He could only hope the animal hadn’t recognized him as the one who had held the lamp steady while Mason cut into its skull.

* * *

On the slope in front of Henri, Ever held up a hand, calling for them to halt. Ignoring the motion, Henri trotted up next to her. “What is it?”

“Next time I tell you to stop, you should stop.”

Henri swept a hand over her forehead, wiping off sweat and clinging strands of hair. “Or what, Ever? You’ll kill me?”

Few things irritated her more than the expression Ever routinely wore in her presence that said she’d like very much to do just that. “Not today. However, one of our lines was tripped when your friend rode through here. If you had continued, the explosives set on the path would have done a fair job of it for me.” She swung from the saddle, gathered her supplies and, after turning her mount around, swatted it on the ass. The horse took off down the mountainside at a run. “The signs are too difficult to see from horseback. We walk from here.”

The mountain loomed in front of them, and Henri swallowed hard. “But the fortress is at the top.”

“Get off the horse, Henrietta. You brought this madness here. You can certainly hike part of a mountain to remedy the problem.” Ever stalked into the trees at the side of the path.

Alone with her mount, Henri couldn’t help but wonder how real the threat was. She wouldn’t put it past Ever to make her trudge up the Rockies as punishment or some warped test. Sliding from the saddle, she made sure the clockworks were safely tucked under her corset. They pinched there, but at least they remained hidden.

“I am glad we reached an understanding so quickly,” Ever said as the other horse trotted away. “Since you are not accustomed to climbing, the path is our best option. Which means we have much ground to cover. Try to keep up.”

With a mental curse that damned every man she knew—including the one she couldn’t stop thinking about—to an unknown circle of hell, Henri began numbering her steps up the side of the mountain. It didn’t take long until she not only lost count but stopped caring. Ever would halt their progress periodically to disengage sprung traps, allowing her to rest. The peaks never seemed any closer.

When Ever returned this time, Henri wanted to ask how much farther but knew it would only lose her what little respect she’d earned by not complaining on the trek thus far. They had been on the path for another ten thousand or so steps when Ever said, “We will have to make camp soon, but we should reach the fortress by tomorrow.”

“I wish we could have gone the other way.” Henri cursed her lack of mountaineering skills. Had they been able to go through the woods like Ever wanted, they probably would have reached the fortress by now.

“And I wish we did not have to go at all. I wish for a time when you cease to bring the Union and its greed to our land.”

Henri clenched her hands into fists and spun on the warrior, tired of the hostility, tired of shouldering the blame for what her father had done. If Ever wanted her to shrug off that guilt, she might as well start now. “I’m trying to help your people.”

“Yes, please aid us against the menace you led here.” The scowl on Ever’s face melted into something less angry, more pleading. “You once said you did not truly belong on the
Dark
Hawk
, that you were bred for more than that. Perhaps it is time for you to give the ship to Spencer as you promised and make a home for yourself in the Union.”

The dismissal stung, but the suggestion of doing exactly what Henri had been planning and giving up her role with Spencer and the crew hurt worse. Especially since it might be for the best. Thoughts of Carson sprang to mind, and any secret hope she’d had that a life out here might be one he could become part of evaporated with the image. She belonged nowhere, with no one. Her family, her passions, her own foolish mistakes... They’d taken everything from her and left nothing behind.

She didn’t care about resting anymore, only about reaching the fortress and being done with everything—the
Dark
Hawk
, the Badlands, the clockworks. She’d have no choice but to build a life in the Union. With thoughts of a loveless marriage to some stuffy politician suffocating her, she shoved Ever with all her might, spun on her heel and stalked up the mountain.