Tin Swift(71)

Cedar sat on a bed next to Rose. “Yes, he did. Had her at his side since she was a young girl, I’m given to understand. She’s got a bit of the wild sciences in her, and Mr. Gregor had a way of making her see that as a good thing.”

Molly smiled. “She was whispering in her sleep. Something about matics and cogs and gears. Thought she might lean toward devising.”

“She’s handy with those sorts of things.” He wondered if he should put something in Rose’s hand, a device, a whimsy, so her busy fingers would be comforted, but he had nothing to give her. They’d lost everything they owned in that damn town.

Cedar ground his teeth until his anger became nothing more than frustration.

No trail was easy, but trying to get Mrs. Lindson to her coven had proved to be more than difficult. It was quite possibly going to cost Rose her life. Most likely had cost the stubborn Madder brothers theirs.

That wound Rose carried should be his. He’d had some time to think about the windup dead girl, and who might have such a terrible mind to set such a trap. Most of the Strange he’d killed over the years didn’t do much more thinking than an angry animal. They certainly weren’t the sort to pull together complicated traps.

But there was one Strange man who was more than up to this sort of trickery: Mr. Shunt. Shunt had done terrible things back in Hallelujah. Pieced together walking, killing bodies for the Strange to inhabit. Pieced together other horrifying killing contraptions.

And since he’d felt Mr. Shunt’s presence and known he’d been there in Vicinity for more than a day or two, he was of the mind that Mr. Shunt had meant for that girl to kill him.

Cedar should be the one suffering right now, not Rose.

Molly stood and stretched. “Anger won’t fix her, Mr. Hunt,” Molly said. “And it won’t do you a lot of good either, I’d wager.”

Cedar glanced up.

Molly shook her head. “Don’t know why you’re so riled, but I’d like to suggest you take that temper and stow it. This isn’t any kind of place to lose your head.”

“So the captain has told me. How many men does Old Jack have out here?” he asked.

“Just a handful. But it ain’t men you need to worry about. Old Jack is fond of explosives and doesn’t mind rearranging his living quarters, if you get my drift. Course there’s always people coming and going. Suspicion is something of a hobby among glimmers.”

“The passengers out there?” Cedar said.

“I heard. French ship. Coin of Paradise or some such?” At his look she grinned. “Got to keep your ear to the ground in this business. I’ve heard of Captain Beaumont. Doesn’t run glim, but likes to think he’s better than us that do.”

“Do you know his passengers?” he asked.

“Nope.” She strode toward the door. “But I’m going to make my meet over a plate of food before Guffin and Seldom clean the pot.”

She paused at the door. “You should do the same, Mr. Hunt. Full belly makes a clear mind.”

“Thank you for your concern, Miss Gregor,” he said. “I’ll wait a bit.”

She nodded. “Suit yourself.”

She left the room and Cedar took off his hat. He ran his hand over his head, then scrubbed his face. He was suddenly bone-tired. The smell of bacon fat sizzling in the pan and the low murmur of voices conspired with the darkness and warmth to make him want to just lie back and sleep for a week.

Instead, he leaned his head against the wall, and kept watch over Rose.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


Mae Lindson walked with the captain. She thought it gallant that he offered her his arm, although it could simply be that he had noticed she’d been out of her senses the last couple days and didn’t want her wandering off.

“What sort of medicines do you hope to wrangle tonight, Mrs. Lindson?” Captain Hink asked.

“Almost anything,” Mae said truthfully. “I still have my satchel, and my black salve, but I have nothing to ease her pain except a small bottle of laudanum. She’ll be out of pain, but deep asleep. And if she’s asleep, it will be much harder for us to travel quickly if we need to.”

“I know just the thing. There’s leaves from South Africa Jack likes to bring in and bargain off. Coca. Good for pain, good for energy,” Hink said. “Will you need bandages or sutures?”

“Clean bandages would be wonderful. There’s no need of sewing anything up yet. We haven’t removed the fragment. Maybe yarrow if he has it. That should help with fever and infection.”

The stone passage took a turn and suddenly they were on a wooden floor with wooden walls. After all the natural round and unevenness of the caverns, and before that, the curved edges of the interior of the Swift, seeing square wooden corners was suddenly strange and refreshing.