Gaslit Armageddon (Clockworks of War Book 2) Read online

  “Pull the nose up,” Kane said to Farnsworth, not taking his eyes off the scope. “Give her everything you’ve got.”

  Farnsworth grabbed the horn and barked into it. “Benson! Full fire! Make those boilers glow!”

  The Middleton tilted as Farnsworth leaned back on the helm. Kane watched as they rose up, leaving the cruiser below bit by bit. The big cruisers weren’t nearly as maneuverable. It could work.

  It had to work.

  “Steady,” Kane said, holding up his hand. “Wait for my signal. Keep pushing, captain. Wilson, at the ready.”

  “Ready, sir!” Wilson called.

  “She can’t take much more, Shepherd!” Farnsworth’s voice was strained. Kane felt the force of the speed. The air thinned. Shit. Breathing gear. Dammit.

  He heard Anderson cough as she shouted at him.

  “You break my ship, and I’ll take it out of your hide, Shepherd!”

  “I know what he’s thinking,” Farnsworth said. “Trust him, General!”

  Kane heard Tabitha call his name. He pushed it back, let his own heartbeat fill his ears as he focused on the battle cruiser. He heard scrambling, heard commands. Man your stations. Prepare to launch drillers.

  Just a little more. Just a little more.

  “Now, Wilson! Let her go!”

  Kane heard Wilson pull the release lever. There was a loud clacking sound as the tow cable detached from the assembly in the rear of the ship. The Jezebel fell free, gravity taking over as she lumbered out of the sky toward the battle cruiser. Kane reached out again, could hear the men on the cruiser scream, scrambling about as they shouted in panicked voices. Turn away. Turn away. Kill the boilers! Mayday! Mayday!

  FIRE!

  He let his hearing come back to the deck of the Middleton, but kept his eyes on the chaos behind him, letting the grin form on his lips.

  The Jezebel crashed into the bow of the other ship, breaking in half as she collapsed the framework on the cruiser. Fire erupted from the dying battle cruiser, the explosion deafening as she began her descent, the flames engulfing her quickly as the two ladies of the sky fell to the earth miles below. Gunpowder in the artillery decks on both boats ignited, and both ships exploded in the sky in a tangled, fiery mass that sped toward the ground. They hit hard, the mess scattering outwards. Trees and brush burned, sent a column of thick, black smoke into the sky as Farnsworth cheered and called for all hands to prep for descent to normal altitude. Kane’s chest hurt from the lack of oxygen. His knees weakened a little, and he held onto the periscope as he gulped in fresh air.

  Kane called to Wilson to take over navigation, then went to Tabitha and helped her to her feet. She shook her head, still breathing heavily as if trying to take in as much air as possible.

  The horn squawked next to Farnsworth.

  “Cap’n! Mayday! Mayday!”

  Every nerve in Kane’s body froze as Farnsworth dragged the horn down and barked into it.

  “What is it, Mr. Benson?”

  “Sir! We took a goddamned cannon ball right to the left turbine boiler! Situation critical! We need to—”

  An explosion rocked the Middleton, sent her leaning to the left. Tabitha screamed as she slid away, arms flailing for something to grab onto. Kane had his hand on her wrist instantly, the muscles in his arm pulling as she was yanked down, then was airborne. The map table cleared off, charts and compasses scattering toward the far window. Farnsworth continued to bark orders.

  “All hands brace! All hands brace! Mr. Benson! Take down the right boiler! Stop that turbine! Mr. Derricks! Loose the cannons!”

  Anderson called out over the sound of the ship groaning under the strain of leaning too far to the left.

  “Farnsworth! Reroute steam to the left boiler! Get us level!”

  “Too late for that, General! We take her down and crash her gentle-like!”

  “Belay those orders, Captain! Level this fucking ship! Keep us in the air!”

  “I’ll not risk my crew to save your boat! With respect, General: shove it!”

  “Sir!” Wilson shouted. “Right boiler is down! Left smoking! We’re on fire, Captain! Hard right! Hard right!”

  Kane glanced over his shoulder, saw Farnsworth straining, his muscles bulging under the load as he fought to pull the wheel to the right.

  “Kane!”

  Tabitha’s scream jerked his attention back to her. He looked into her eyes, wide with manic fear. His arm was weakening, the pain too much under the weight of her being pulled against him.

  The ship shuddered as trees scraped the hull, shredding the steel and tearing off the left turbine. Windows broke as the trees hit harder and harder. Kane’s grip slipped away, and he and Tabitha both went flying through the air.

  Out through the window. Falling. A tree coming at them.

  Tabitha smacked against him, grabbed him, split seconds now an eternity as she gave a final scream.

  “Draugalega Ferðast!”

  Cold wind swept through, yanked them away. Kane’s bones ached from the chill as they shot through the trees. He wrapped his arms around Tabitha, held her close as they bolted, then came to a hard stop, the world black and silent.

  Chapter Two

  Kane tried to roll over. The world blurred around him, his head pounding, his body aching in places he never thought he could feel pain. He blinked a few times, his hand out and searching the dirt. Nothing. His other hand. Soil, leaves, roots. Wet from dew and smells of mildew and foliage heavy in the air.

  His hand brushed something. Soft, covered in fabric. Human.

  Breathing.

  Tabitha groaned next to him. He sighed in relief. They were alive.

  “I’m never getting on an airship again,” Tabitha moaned as she rolled over and reached out for Kane, resting her hand on his chest. “Kane? Are you okay?”

  He rolled his head to the side, blinked again to clear the haze.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Okay,” Tabitha said, smiling. “Just wanted to make sure. You had me worried.”

  Kane rolled over onto his side, then pushed himself up. He got to his feet, his knees arguing back at the movement with shots of pain up his thighs. He reached down and helped Tabitha stand.

  “Where are we?” he asked, looking around. “Where did you take us?”

  “Away,” Tabitha said. “I have no idea where we are. I just thought about a clearing I’d seen in a picture once, and this is it.” She gasped. Kane turned and followed her gaze to the running water in the creek next to them. “Oh, this is the place!”

  “Where is this ‘place?’ Do you remember where the picture was taken?”

  “No,” Tabitha said, turning back to him. “But it’s prettier in color. Why do pictures all have to be in black and white? So boring. Hey, birds! Oh, you could make a campfire tonight and we could roast marshmallows! If we had any. But we don’t. Poo.”

  Kane sighed and shook his head.

  Still, in a way, it was settling. Kane rubbed his face. Here he was finding comfort in the ramblings of Mad Tabitha. Jones had been right when he’d made a comment to Kane months before all of this started.

  “Girls make men stupid, Kane. And a girl wouldn’t have too much work on her hands with you.”

  Kane looked around the area. Where the hell were the broken trees? Debris?

  Their Grimoires. Shit. They had to find them. A Magician’s Grimoire, their spell book, was their lifeline and source of power. They had to make sure the books survived the crash. Otherwise they were dead in the water.

  “Tabitha, how hard did you push it?”

  She shrugged.

  “Not hard. I think we maybe went a few miles.”

  “We need to get to the others.” Kane said, moving past her and looking into the woods. “Christ, we need to make sure our Grimoires survived the crash.” The sun was up now, the air muggy and humid. Kane rolled the sleeves up on his shirt and unbuttoned the top few buttons to give himself some relief. He turned to Tabitha, who
stood there staring at him with a grin on her face and a hungry look in her eye.

  “What?” he said.

  She kept staring at him. “Keep going.”

  Kane rolled his eyes at her, gave a smirk. “Now is not the time. I’m hot.”

  She nodded. “I know!”

  Kane started to speak again when a sound came through the trees, a voice carried on the wind along with the chirping birds and hum of insect wings. A woman’s voice whispered, soft as the breeze that carried it. Its tone was inviting, but the words sent the hair on Kane’s neck straight up and tensed every muscle under his skin in alarm.

  “Run away, Magician. Them Hunters comin’.”

  Hunters. Shit. Wondering who the voice was could wait.

  Kane reached for Tabitha’s hand, pulled her along as he made for the trees opposite the direction the voice had come from. “Let’s go!” he shouted, dropping her hand so she could run on her own without risk of him tripping her up. He stepped over fallen branches and pushed through the foliage, leading Tabitha away as other voices followed behind them.

  “They went this way!”

  “Look at them footprints. Two of them! Just like he said!”

  Christ, how many?

  Kane stopped for a second, the dense trees opening up a little as a new sound came from ahead. Water. Running water.

  A river.

  Tabitha stopped in front of him, breathing heavy, her eyes wide in panic as she looked back over her shoulder.

  “Where are they?” she said. “The Hunters, did you see them?”

  Kane looked at her.

  “You heard it, too?”

  “Of course, I did,” she said. “I thought the Hunters weren’t around anymore.”

  “We were wrong,” Kane said, motioning ahead. “I hear a river. We can lose them there.”

  A bullet whipped by them, missing Kane’s face by inches as it sailed through the air and buried itself into a tree nearby. Kane heard the bolt mechanism on a rifle slide back, turn, and shove forward, another round in the chamber.

  He grabbed Tabitha’s hand and squeezed as he spoke.

  “Ethereal vestimentum.” Ethereal cloak.

  His body warmed, the magic moving under his skin as a translucent veil washed over them. He pulled at Tabitha’s hand slightly, then put a finger to his lips when she looked at him.

  Quiet.

  He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. Let’s move.

  They went slower, trying to keep quiet as they stepped carefully on dried leaves and avoided sticks when they could. Kane stepped carefully over the root of a large tree, motioned Tabitha to do the same, then led her around to the other side and pulled her with him as he crouched down and listened.

  How many stepped through the brush where they had been? There had been two voices. Two? No. Three, at least. Kane heard two of them speaking, then the sound of a third set of footfalls on the forest floor.

  “I heard ‘em over here, I swear to God,” one said, his Southern drawl thick. “Two of ‘em.”

  “Dadgum, Cliff,” said a second, his accent just as thick. “Yer a piss-poor shot. I’s at least hopin’ to see some blood to track ‘em by.”

  “Well I am so sorry I did not live up to yer expectations, Garrett.” Cliff said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “I do try to make it my life’s work to make you fuckin’ happy.”

  The third spoke up, his accent nondescript, his voice snake-like and graveled as if he chain-smoked more than Jones had. Kane bristled as the man walked around the area. His breathing was steady, accompanied by the sound of a knife being pulled from a sheath. He spoke again, his voice low and greasy as he called the way one would call for an animal.

  “Here, little piggies. Come on out and play with us.”

  Tabitha wrapped her arms around Kane, pulled in close as she began to shiver. The man stepped around from behind the tree. He was tall and gaunt, his long hair black and stringy around his shoulders. He was clean-shaven, his eyes sunken in his skeletal face. His long, boney fingers were wrapped around the handle of a wicked-looking hunting knife, the back side of it brutally serrated. The shine on it was dull, the steel stained with blood. The nostrils on his large nose flared as he sniffed the air.

  “I can smell you,” he said. “I can smell your sweat. You’re close, aren’t you? What…I can smell…” He grinned, his searching eyes narrowing. “One of them is a girl.”

  The other two whooped and yelled as the gaunt man chuckled.

  “We gonna have some fun with you, honey!” Cliff called out.

  “Come on out and play with us, precious,” said Scarecrow. “We won’t hurt you.”

  “Can it, Richard,” Garrett said. “You too, Cliff. The Master wants them alive and unharmed.”

  “You told me to shoot at them,” Cliff argued.

  “A warning shot,” Garrett said. “Wasn’t meant to kill nobody. People can run with a grazed shoulder or somethin’. Richard, now dadgummit, I’m serious. Don’t you be cuttin’ up nobody.”

  “Quiet,” Richard growled, still sniffing the air. “I think I can smell them.” He pulled something from his pocket and held it out, letting it drop to the end of its chain and dangle in the air. A compass of some sort. Nothing like Kane ever saw before. It was gold, the hand on the inside in the shape of a sword. It spun, pointing in different directions as if it couldn’t make up its mind as to which way was North.

  “It’ll pick up a spell,” Richard said. “Track them. All they got to do is cast. The Master called it a ‘Seeker’.”

  Cliff cleared his throat before he spoke up.

  “That’s a nice toy you got there, Richard.”

  Kane heard Tabitha begin to mutter something just before Richard spoke. He covered her mouth and shook his head before putting his finger to his mouth. No magic.

  Shit. His spell was still active. Why wasn’t the Seeker finding him?

  “Come, piggies,” Richard called. “Cast another little spell just for me.”

  “What’s the matter?” Cliff asked. “Damn thing ain’t workin?”

  “They have to cast to be detected,” Richard said, his tone irritated. “It picks up the initial, not the continuous. Not the passive.”

  “They’re gone,” Cliff said. “Hell with it, let’s head back.”

  Kane stared hard at Richard. The man looked around a bit longer, then lowered the Seeker.

  “It’s not over, piggies,” he said, licking his lips, his tongue long and forked. “You can’t hide forever.”

  “Let’s go, Richard,” Cliff barked. “I don’t wanna be out here after dark. We don’t need that witchy-woman on us.”

  Witchy-woman? Kane logged it in his memory, pressed his back hard against the tree as Richard took a step forward, giving a long, drawn-out sniff before he grunted and turned away. Kane heard the three hiking back through the woods in the opposite direction, cursing and grumbling as they went. He kept his hearing reined in, focused on keeping the cloak up as it shimmered around them. His body began to grow tired, his muscles aching and his head starting to feel fuzzy.

  The voices faded away into the distance, and Kane let his breath out as the cloak dissolved around them. He felt as if he’d just run a marathon in his plain clothes, his body drenched in sweat.

  “Who were they?” Tabitha’s voice still shook. She sat up suddenly, her face twisted in disgust. “Ew, Kane! You’re sweating on me! Gross!”

  Kane rested back against the tree, tried to relax and catch his breath. The spell had taken it out of him, all right. Kept it up too long. He noticed shortly after they left New Chicago that casting took a toll on his body now that he didn’t have an amulet. It was still supposed to be an impossibility. A Magician casting without an amulet wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet, he and Tabitha could do so, but it made them tired when they did.

  “We need to move,” he said, finally. “Get as far in the opposite direction of those three as possible. They tracked us, somehow. I think that thing he had
, that Seeker, has something to do with it.”

  “We could’ve fought them,” Tabitha said, looking at Kane, her eyebrow raised.

  Kane shook his head.

  “Hunters are specifically trained to kill Magicians,” he said. “We don’t have amulets. After what we just went through, I didn’t want to risk us not being able to cast.”

  Tabitha nodded, gripped his arm. “Draug—”

  “No!” Kane snapped, sitting up quickly and jerking his arm away. “No magic! I think that’s what did it.”

  “Did what?” Tabitha blinked. “You think they tracked us from my traveling spell? You’re saying it’s my fault?” Her eyes began to water.

  “Yes, I think they used your spell,” Kane said. “And no, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Neither did I.” Kane got to his feet, helped Tabitha to hers, and surveyed the land. It was quiet, the air moving through the trees joined by the sound of birds calling every now and again.

  Witchy-woman. Kane wondered if the voice that’d warned them to hide was the same person the three Hunters talked about.

  * * *

  * * *

  They walked for what Kane guessed to be hours. His pocket watch had been destroyed in the crash. Tabitha, for once, kept relatively quiet, only speaking up every now and again when she needed a hand climbing over a large felled tree or down a slope lined with clusters of large rocks. Kane kept to himself, lost in thought.

  He wasn’t worried about the Special Forces finding them. The Middleton crash would likely lead them to believe that everyone had died. Kane considered it lucky that he and Tabitha had made it, and he doubted in all sincerity that Farnsworth had perished, or that the madman had let anyone else die for that matter. Farnsworth was a walking tank, and had shared stories with Kane about times he’d been shot down in flames and survived.

  “Damned ship went down in fire,” he’d said during the flight from Illinois to Tennessee. “She hit the ground and burned. Got my crew to safety, I did! Landed her as gently as one can land a ship with her ass shot out from beneath her.”

  “What then?” Kane asked.

  Farnsworth gave a hearty laugh.