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.”
“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.”