The Destiny (Blood and Destiny Book 4) (12 page)

The glass window pane hadn’t seemed like a
comfortable place to lean against when Cid returned to the dining car, but his
head rested on it regardless. At first, he’d been tempted to wake Saunders,
then thought better of it; if he was going to ask the Lieutenant to trudge all
the way across a field in the hope of rescuing an engine that was in all
likelihood destroyed beyond use, letting the guy get a good rest seemed like
the best plan.

Soft snores came from one
end of the car, and the occasional moan or muttered word came from Sandy
sleeping at the other end. Cid settled right in the middle, far enough away
from both of them in order to not seem creepy. The last thing anyone would have
wanted would be to wake up to his face. He rubbed a hand across his chin and
grimaced when he found it covered in a patchy layer of hair. He leaned back
slightly and looked at the face reflecting in the window pane. He looked ten
years older than he had when they first set out from Sallarium. He
felt
ten years older. The Professor entered his thoughts, and an unpleasant wave of
sadness and anger washed over his heart. He’d been so grateful to the man he
considered a genius, for the opportunities he received. Building the Machine had
been such an achievement, yet they had both been utterly naïve to the outside
world, the threats they faced. It seemed so unfair to have lost it all for no
good reason.

“Is it morning?”
Sandy’s voice, slurred and slow, came from nearby.

Cid sat up and looked
in her direction. He could still only see a pair of boots sticking out from the
end of the seat. “Sort of. Your cousin is still asleep,” he replied in a
half-whisper.

“Not anymore,” Saunders
said from the other end of the carriage.

“What’s for breakfast?”
Sandy sat up now, her hair tumbling about her shoulders, a great clump of it
sticking up sideways.

“I think there’s still
some of the stew thing the Friar made last night,” Cid said. “Probably cold as
a witch’s nipple, though.”

“Ugh. It was unappealing
enough as it is, never mind the metaphor.”

“How’s the engine?”
Saunders approached and sat on the seat opposite, lacing his fingers together
as he leaned forward, forearms on his knees.

“Fucked,” Cid said.

“Oh. Explain.”

“There’s some busted bits
I would fix if I had any tools or materials to fix…but none of it really
matters without the coal.”

“No coal?”

“A few chunks. Barely
enough to get a fire going. Certainly not enough to pull this hunk of machinery
a few hundred miles down the track to the Capital.”

“Damn… This station is
near the manufacturing area, isn’t it? Maybe we can find some coal in a
warehouse.”

“In a city filled with
scavengers who picked this train clean, you think we’re going to find a nice
big stash of coal nearby for the taking?” Cid asked, having already expected such
a response. His heart sped up a bit as he neared the moment to make his
impossible and impractical suggestion.

“Good point. You have
any other ideas?”

“Besides a bloody long
walk?”

“Yes, besides that.”

“How about a shorter
walk?”

“I’m listening,”
Saunders said as he scooted to the edge of the seat.

“I may be able to
modify the engine which was attached to our airship…” He paused, not really
wanting to explain the details. Saunders seemed like a smart enough man to put
it all together. The man sat perfectly still for a moment, staring up at Cid,
his eyes glazing over a little as he inwardly processed the thought.

“The airship that
crashed?”

“Somewhere behind the
Eagle
.”
Cid nodded and waved his arm vaguely in the direction of the wreckages.

“The airship that is
likely smashed to a million tiny pieces, and all the pieces worth salvaging
have probably already been taken by the scavengers we saw heading over there?”

Cid sucked in a breath
through his nose and made no effort to hide the huge sigh which emerged. “Yes.
I know it’s a long shot, but if there is a chance it survived, it may be
untouched.”

“Why?”

“Because I doubt the
fucking idiot scavengers would know the value of a piece of machinery like that
even if I stuck a label on the side of it saying what it is. Besides, they
probably focused their attention on the
Eagle
and some of the bigger
ships. Our pathetic little tub wouldn’t have looked very enticing. Plus, I
think it’s the farthest away. So, there is a chance it’s not been touched at
all.”

“You want us to walk
miles over muddy fields, abandon our post, or leave someone behind to tell the
others where we’ve gone on the off-chance that the engine has survived and you
can fix it to this train? I can’t agree to that, Cid. I’m sorry. The Colonel
gave me orders,”

“To stay here and guard
us,” Cid interrupted, having expected to hear this exact argument. “I can’t
haul the engine all the way back here by myself, and I wouldn’t ask Narry to
come. His health is questionable as it is.”

“I’ll come,” Sandy
said. Saunders and Cid turned to face her. She perched on the train seat on her
knees, looking over the back of the seat at them. Her arms were folded across
the seatback and her chin rested on her hands.

“No,” Saunders said.
The word was drawn out and spoken with care, as if he knew that barking it at
her would result in instant defiance.

Cid didn’t know how to
react. He was used to Larissa’s special brand of determination mixed with
outright disregard for safety or sanity. He had not really expected the same of
their new female companion. Though he had to remind himself that he was far
from an expert on women, perhaps they were all the same and he’d just never had
the time or inclination to notice.

“I’m going. As soon as
I’ve had some of the witch’s tit stew to give me strength. You can stay here
and wait for the others to come back.” She stood and headed to the other end of
the carriage, grabbing a spoon on the way.

Saunders sank his head
into his hands. He had the look of a man who already knew the battle was lost
but felt compelled to fight on regardless. “I’m not letting you walk all the
way over there on a fool’s errand.”

“It’s not a fool’s
errand if it gets us what we need,” Sandy replied. “Besides, there’s something
else out there which might be of use, and if it’s not of use, then I at least
want it back. It too would appear pointless to scavengers but has immeasurable
value.”

“What?” Cid and
Saunders asked in unison.

“My orb.” She scooped a
spoonful of sloppy stew from the pot and grimaced as she swallowed it.

“I was never going to
win that argument, was I?” Saunders groaned to Cid, his head still in his
hands.

“Not a bloody chance,”
Cid said.

A slight sensation brought Larissa from a
deep and satisfying slumber back to the harsh realities of the real world. It
felt as though someone tapped on her shoulder, the softness of the touch seemingly
at odds with the two men who should have been the only other people in the
room. She lay still, not moving from her side, letting her mind catch up to
being completely awake to see if any other pieces of information filled in the
blank puzzle piece. When the tap came again, accompanied by someone whispering,
“Hey,” in her ear, her body stiffened. It was a female voice. The only other
female in their group was Sandy, and Larissa knew that Sandy had been left
behind with Cid.

The person tapping and
whispering sat behind Larissa where she lay stretched out on the floor. She
subtly felt around with her fingertips, hoping to find a knife on the floor for
defense. Instead, her fingers bumped into something large and solid, something
that hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep. She curled her hands into
fists as the tap and whisper repeated and opened her eyes.

She saw Holt’s face
first. He lay on his back beside her. A twinge of terror struck her heart when
she considered he might be dead. After all, it was unlike Holt to let someone
else slip into the room unnoticed, but as the soft rise and fall of his chest
gave her comfort that his fate was not yet sealed, she refocused her attention.
Kerrigan was still sprawled out beside the fireplace, his body a mess of dried
blood layered over sickly looking pale skin, and her heart hurt again at the
thought that perhaps
he
was dead.

“Hey.” The tap came
again.

Larissa sighed and
slowly rolled over, keeping her fists ready to defend herself if required.

“Good, you’re awake.”
The face greeting her was not one she recognized, but the pale ginger hair did
seem familiar. The woman sat up, resting her back against the stand which had once
held the cash register.

“Who are you?” Larissa
whispered, not wanting to wake Holt.

“I was about to ask you
the same thing. I saw you three come in here this morning. You look down on
your luck. You looking for work? Hoping to make some money? I can get you into
Cosby’s. You can bring your two clients with you. Madame Cosby will be pleased
about the new business, I’m sure.”

“What?” Larissa sat up,
her head feeling woozy. Despite having rested, it didn’t feel sufficient. She
focused on the woman, her face somewhat familiar. As the stranger flicked her
curtain of fiery orange hair out of her face, Larissa placed her—the drunken
prostitute they’d seen the night before.

“I’m not sure how much
use that one will be, though.” The woman pointed at Kerrigan. “I wouldn’t mind
playing nurse for him, but I don’t want to have to clean up all the blood. It’s
pretty disgusting.”

“I have no idea what
you’re talking about,” Larissa said as she stood. “What time is it?”

“Mid-afternoon. We
don’t usually open till a bit later, but Madame Cosby will probably want to
meet you first before she lets you take clients. She usually likes to watch you
with the first one, like a trial run.”

“A trial run of what?”

“You…you know.” The
woman stuck her tongue out and wriggled it up and down and then started making
entirely inappropriate hand gestures. Larissa would have laughed if she weren’t
so busy being completely horrified by the suggestion that she was a prostitute
and Holt and Kerrigan were her clients.

“I’m not a—”

“How much?” Holt’s
voice cut off Larissa’s sentence. He didn’t move, didn’t even bother to roll
over.

“Depends on how good
she is,” the woman said with a wink and a smile.

Holt sat up abruptly
and stood tall, grabbing Larissa’s arm. “She is very good,” he said.

Larissa opened her
mouth to ask what the hell he was doing. Was he extolling her skills in the
bedroom with some random harlot? A slight squeeze of her arm made her snap her
mouth closed.

“Ah, you’re her
boyfriend, are you? I’ll let her take a bath in my tub before she goes to see
Cosby. She’s filthy and she stinks. You all bloody stink.”

“And new clothes,” Holt
said.

“She can borrow some of
my clothes, but once she makes some money, you can go buy her something nice.”

“Deal. We have
questions,” he said.

“Madame Cosby can
answer those.”

“You will answer them.”
Holt squeezed Larissa’s arm again, then let go as he gave her a slight nod. Was
he handing the questioning over to her? She was so confused by the whole
situation, she wasn’t sure where to begin.

“What’s your name?”
Larissa asked, immediately knowing it was utterly irrelevant to the situation.
She was buying time to try to figure out some more pertinent questions.

“Naomi.”

“What happened to
Greyfort’s?”

“What? I don’t know
what that is.”

Larissa chewed on her
tongue. It wasn’t the best start. “Sallarium City never used to have a
brothel,” she said, not quite managing to form the statement into a question.

“No, but Cosby’s has
done quite well in the short time she’s been open. Ever since the Hub thing exploded,
the whole place went to the dogs. The rich folks moved out and the pirates
moved in. Those guys have a load of money and only one thing besides booze they
want to spend it on.” Naomi stuck her tongue out again and flicked it up and
down at Holt, her eyes widening with unashamed meaning.

Larissa didn’t quite
know what to do with herself. She wasn’t sure what information Holt thought she
could get from Naomi but doubted it would be anything useful—nothing that would
aid them in their mission to get to the Capital, at any rate. She hoped Holt
wasn’t planning on going along with the suggestion that she enter the brothel
under the pretence of getting a job. As much as she wanted a clean bath and
some fresh clothing, it didn’t seem like a worthwhile risk to take.

“Why have the trains
stopped?” Holt asked when Larissa had fallen quiet.

“There was some big
battle between a bunch of pirates who have been showing up over here in the
last month or so. They’ve all been coming in by airship, loads of them. The
enforcers tried to fight them, but when they realized it was a losing battle,
they tried to run away with the last of the residents. That’s when the trains
were stopped. Airship or feet, that’s the only way in or out now. How did you
people get here?”

“You wouldn’t believe
me if I told you,” Larissa said as she finally got the gist of what Holt was
expecting. “Who was in charge?”

“Madame Cosby, I told
you.”

“No…who was in charge
of the pirates? Someone must have organized them all to convene here.” She
sighed, already knowing the answer and yet wanting to hear it anyway. Poor
Naomi hadn’t yet worked out that they clearly weren’t people to be trusted, but
then again, in a city overrun by criminals, brothel owners, pirates, and
murderers, perhaps it was just another day for someone who got paid to have sex
with whoever could afford it.

“Oh. A man named Solomon.
He turned up a couple days ago and then left the other night during the big
battle with the Sky Force ship. Did any of those military boys survive, do you
think? They’re usually rich and good for a nice hard hump.”

Larissa saw Holt’s back
straighten from the corner of her eye. No doubt he felt affronted, on behalf of
all Sky Force men, by being thought of in such terms, even if he couldn’t count
himself as one of them any longer. Naomi looked between him and Kerrigan, who
still lay prone beside the fireplace. From the expression on her face, she
seemed to finally question the three of them.

Larissa wasn’t done
yet, especially after hearing her father’s name. “Solomon,” she said with an
encouraging smile, “Solomon Covelle?”

“Client of yours too,
is he? Interesting man. Not so great in bed, but he is rather good when it
comes to—”

“How do you know he was
in charge?” Larissa blurted. She wanted technical detail, not disgusting
information about her father’s performance in the bedroom. It was sickening
enough to think he had a habit of sleeping with prostitutes. Mother would
certainly not have been impressed.

“Because every time we
were interrupted by one of the pirate captains, he gave them orders. Who are
you people?”

“She is a prostitute
looking for work and I am her boyfriend,” Holt said. His flat tone made it
sound about as convincing as a child with cookie crumbs all over his face
trying to deny having eaten a cookie. “We will see your employer now. Meet us
in the alley behind the establishment in five minutes.”

Naomi gave them both a
long and thorough look, then shook her head and left.

“Holt, please tell me
you said that just to get rid of her?”

“I did.”

“Good. As much as I
want a bath and some new clothes, I would rather enter the Capital naked than
go through that form of humiliation in order to look nice.”

“I am not going in
there for clothes…although a change of outfit may be beneficial if the
opportunity arises.” He paused to look down at his own grubby clothing, caked
in mud and blood.

“Wait, did you just say
you’re going in there? You’re not in need of her services, are you?”

“No,” he said, glaring
down at her. “I’m going in there for money. They will have funds stored
somewhere. I will deal with the proprietors and take anything of value.”

Larissa scrunched her
nose up, knowing exactly what Holt meant when he said
deal with the
proprietors.
“You want to break in and murder people and steal their money?
Gods, Holt.”

“Infiltrate, not break
in, and I will only murder people if necessary. Don’t tell me you need to have
a lengthy discussion on the moral issues regarding stealing from those sort of
people?”

“I hadn’t exactly given
it any thought. I don’t like the idea of stealing from anyone.”

“Would you like me to
tell you what sort of things the women who work there are subjected to? Would
that lessen your anxiety?”

“No. I know what those
women are put through. If you steal from their employers, they will probably
take out their anger on the women.”

“Then I will make sure
none of those in charge live. Larissa, we’re wasting time here. Do you want me
to obtain funding to continue our mission, or do you want to make the long
journey back to the train with nothing to show for our efforts?”

Larissa thought about
it for a moment. Every quick solution which came to mind seemed accompanied by yet
more problems. As she forced herself to meet Holt’s dark and impatient stare,
she conceded to his plan—at least with a few amendments of her own.

“I’m coming with you,”
she said.

“I had a feeling you
might.”

“I don’t want you
slaughtering everyone in sight. Someone will discover a bunch of bodies and
want to know who is to blame. I don’t want a city of angry people chasing us
down. We have enough enemies as it is.”

“Agreed. What is your
plan?”

She swallowed, her
throat complaining about the lack of water, a burning sensation running from
her gut to her mouth. “We can go along with the ruse. If she thinks I’m a
prostitute looking for work and you’re my boyfriend, so be it. That should be enough
to get us inside without bloodshed. We’ll assess the situation once we’re
there.”

“As you wish,” Holt
said.

“What about Kerrigan?”

“What about him?”

“We can’t just leave
him. If he wakes up and we’re gone, he will worry that we left. I doubt very much
that his first waking thought would be to assume I’ve taken employment at the
brothel down the street, ruse or not.”

“He is a big boy,
Larissa. I’m sure he can cope.”

“He can indeed,”
Kerrigan said, his voice gravelly. His eyes opened and he turned slightly,
grimacing with the movement. “I would prefer to join you, but I fear I am
somewhat incapacitated right now. If you can manage to bring back some water,
it would be appreciated…not bathwater, though.”

Larissa nodded, not
wanting to leave him behind when he was so devoid of strength, but they had
already wasted so much time. Holt’s plan was dubious at best, the promise of returning
to the train with gold to buy the supplies they needed was enticing enough to
make her push aside the moral boundary for a while. As Holt gripped her hand, a
flutter of nervous anticipation ran through her stomach. The two of them were
hardly in the best condition to fight. As he pulled her towards the doorway,
she didn’t really have time to argue.