man of rare morals who sees these things with different eyes.”
“Not sure I follow your logic.”
“You have made a promise to return a device made of seven pieces—each piece a powerful weapon in its own right, and the pieces together even more devastating. Yet you hesitate in handing it over, not because you want to use the weapon but because you worry that others will.”
Bryn sucked on his teeth, while the clatter of another explosion roared out from beyond the walls. “That says something about you, Mr. Hunt. Honorable things.”
“Don’t know that it’s honorable,” Cedar said. “Just plain sense.”
“The kind of sense that makes for a well-thought man.”
Another gunshot roared out, and Alun’s voice could be heard over the din. “Are you near done, Mr. Hunt? Brother Bryn? Or should I find myself some bigger bombs?”
“Near on,” Bryn shouted out. “It’s a cold trail, isn’t it?”
Cedar nodded and walked out of the cell. He took a few extra steps to the stone wall at the end of the hall, a wall burned by fire. “Wonder why there’s a burn mark here? Not a convenient place to start a flame.”
He pressed his fingers against the dark smudge of soot on the wall.
A shock ran through him like lightning striking near his boots. The Holder had been here, and burned here. And over the shock of that knowledge rolled the distant song of Mr. Shunt.
Cedar glanced up. There was a fist-sized hole in the roof. He didn’t know how it was possible to propel a chunk of metal through the sky toland a state away, but he was sure a piece of the Holder had burned its way through the roof and landed where he was standing.
“It landed here,” he said. “And someone must have picked it up.”
“Time’s up, gentlemen,” Alun called out. “Load your guns.”
“It’s gone?” Bryn said.
There was a rising noise outside, something that sounded like a matic thumping with full throttle steam just on the edge of Cedar’s hearing. He’d heard that kind of noise before, but couldn’t place it. A train? A steam wagon?
“It’s gone.”
“And you’re sure?” Bryn stared at the hole in the roof.
“Yes.”
“Well, then.” Bryn pulled his rifle. “Let’s go find out where it went.”
Bryn jogged down the hall. Cedar followed.
Alun and Cadoc Madder were stationed in front of the broken windows on either side of the door, which was about to be pounded down.
Cadoc Madder shot grapeshot blasts into the faces of the unalives who were trying to clamber through the window to the left of the door.
“So nice of you gents to join us,” Alun yelled as he uncorked a bottle with his teeth and splashed it over the faces and hands of people trying to shove their way in through the window to the right of the door. The shutter was burned and busted into splinters on the floor at Alun’s feet, along with four or five unfortunate, and very dead, bodies.
“You find our Holder, Mr. Hunt?” he asked as he waved the burning kindling at the undead at the window, setting hair and skin on fire and sending them lurching back a step or two.
“Saw where it burned through the roof. It was here, landed here, likely a month ago.” Cedar strode over to Mae, who had Rose semi-awake and sitting and was trying to wrap a long strip of cloth around her chest to hold down a thick, wet-herb-smelling compress.
“See any indication of where it got off to?”
That tickling at the edge of Cedar’s hearing was still rising, growing louder, coming closer. A steam engine pushing hard. But not a train.
“No.” Cedar shot the man trying to wedge himself through the window near the stove.
“No idea at all?” Alun asked, taking aim with his shotgun and unbraining three people for his effort.
“Can it walk on its own?”
“It cannot,” Alun said.
“So someone took it,” Cedar said. “We get the women the hell away from Vicinity, then I’ll hunt it down.”
Mae finished buttoning Rose’s dress and pulled her
“Not sure I follow your logic.”
“You have made a promise to return a device made of seven pieces—each piece a powerful weapon in its own right, and the pieces together even more devastating. Yet you hesitate in handing it over, not because you want to use the weapon but because you worry that others will.”
Bryn sucked on his teeth, while the clatter of another explosion roared out from beyond the walls. “That says something about you, Mr. Hunt. Honorable things.”
“Don’t know that it’s honorable,” Cedar said. “Just plain sense.”
“The kind of sense that makes for a well-thought man.”
Another gunshot roared out, and Alun’s voice could be heard over the din. “Are you near done, Mr. Hunt? Brother Bryn? Or should I find myself some bigger bombs?”
“Near on,” Bryn shouted out. “It’s a cold trail, isn’t it?”
Cedar nodded and walked out of the cell. He took a few extra steps to the stone wall at the end of the hall, a wall burned by fire. “Wonder why there’s a burn mark here? Not a convenient place to start a flame.”
He pressed his fingers against the dark smudge of soot on the wall.
A shock ran through him like lightning striking near his boots. The Holder had been here, and burned here. And over the shock of that knowledge rolled the distant song of Mr. Shunt.
Cedar glanced up. There was a fist-sized hole in the roof. He didn’t know how it was possible to propel a chunk of metal through the sky toland a state away, but he was sure a piece of the Holder had burned its way through the roof and landed where he was standing.
“It landed here,” he said. “And someone must have picked it up.”
“Time’s up, gentlemen,” Alun called out. “Load your guns.”
“It’s gone?” Bryn said.
There was a rising noise outside, something that sounded like a matic thumping with full throttle steam just on the edge of Cedar’s hearing. He’d heard that kind of noise before, but couldn’t place it. A train? A steam wagon?
“It’s gone.”
“And you’re sure?” Bryn stared at the hole in the roof.
“Yes.”
“Well, then.” Bryn pulled his rifle. “Let’s go find out where it went.”
Bryn jogged down the hall. Cedar followed.
Alun and Cadoc Madder were stationed in front of the broken windows on either side of the door, which was about to be pounded down.
Cadoc Madder shot grapeshot blasts into the faces of the unalives who were trying to clamber through the window to the left of the door.
“So nice of you gents to join us,” Alun yelled as he uncorked a bottle with his teeth and splashed it over the faces and hands of people trying to shove their way in through the window to the right of the door. The shutter was burned and busted into splinters on the floor at Alun’s feet, along with four or five unfortunate, and very dead, bodies.
“You find our Holder, Mr. Hunt?” he asked as he waved the burning kindling at the undead at the window, setting hair and skin on fire and sending them lurching back a step or two.
“Saw where it burned through the roof. It was here, landed here, likely a month ago.” Cedar strode over to Mae, who had Rose semi-awake and sitting and was trying to wrap a long strip of cloth around her chest to hold down a thick, wet-herb-smelling compress.
“See any indication of where it got off to?”
That tickling at the edge of Cedar’s hearing was still rising, growing louder, coming closer. A steam engine pushing hard. But not a train.
“No.” Cedar shot the man trying to wedge himself through the window near the stove.
“No idea at all?” Alun asked, taking aim with his shotgun and unbraining three people for his effort.
“Can it walk on its own?”
“It cannot,” Alun said.
“So someone took it,” Cedar said. “We get the women the hell away from Vicinity, then I’ll hunt it down.”
Mae finished buttoning Rose’s dress and pulled her
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