Chronicles of Steele: Raven 3: Episode 3 (5 page)

“Madam,
how is the child?” He asked, offering to pull the chair from the table for her
when she approached.

Her
silver eyebrows knit together in confusion. The knuckles on the hand holding
the vial grew white as she gripped it to her chest. “Oh. I’m not sure. The
doctor and the Wood Witch are attending her presently.”

The
butler rushed over with a tea cup ready for her, and the young kitchen maid
brought toast with butter. With a swat of her hand, she dismissed them. They
backed up into the shadows of the kitchen once more, the flames playing on
their oddly pale faces. Jack blinked hard and stuttered, “They’re automatons.”

Monroe
and Rupert set down their cups and stared. The grandmother shook her head as
though to shake a thought from them, not to disagree. “Oh yes—the best
companions for me. They rarely make an error, and they learn quickly.”

Jack
furrowed his brows. “How is it that the most life-like automatons I’ve ever
seen are here in the southern province?”

The
grandmother poured a drop of the clear liquid from the vial over her tea cup.
“They are prototypes. My son and daughter-in-law designed and build them in
their Ipswich factory. I’m sure that zeppelin-living New Haven will be the
first to know when the mechanical creatures are complete and approved by the
Bureau.”

Jack
watched the automatons move smoothly and deftly. “Do they speak like humans?
That is…can you have a conversation with them?”

The
grandmother took a dainty sip of her tea. “The butler does, but the kitchen
maid has no voice box. She is an older model. Besides, what need of talking has
a kitchen maid?” She half laughed and took another sip of her tea.

Jack
couldn’t get past how much the butler looked like a real person. He did not
appear to have any stiffness in his gait or mannerisms. Except for the fact
that he stared blankly ahead, he seemed for all intents and purposes, human.
Even on closer inspection, he appeared to have pores in the skin of his face,
and slight wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Jack decided to test it. “What
is your name?”

The
butler turned his head toward Jack and made eye contact, his eyelids blinked in
regular intervals. “My name is Gerald, sir. How may I serve you?”

“Do
you know who I am?”

“No,
sir. You are a stranger to this house and the lady has not said your name.”

“How
long have you been at this house, in the lady’s service?”

“It
will be a year next month, sir.”

Jack
turned toward the woman who slumped in her chair, looking a bit too relaxed.
“Madam, this is a prototype? And you’ve had him nearly a year?”

She
sat up straighter, but her eyes looked distant as she answered. “Yes, I suppose
it has been that long. I’ve had the kitchen maid for nearly two.”

It
hardly made sense that a factory could remain in existence with only prototypes
available. Wouldn’t they try to get them out in the public as soon as possible?
Why the secrecy? Even though it would be out of their way, he’d need to check
this. “Madam, where did you say the factory was again?”

Without tears, weakness cannot
leave the body.
Don’t be afraid to let them go—the weakness and the tears.

R
AVEN STOOD BEHIND Colton and the
witch as they attended to the child. Nurse Raven? How ridiculous a proposition
that would be? However, the witch asked her to get a few things for her out of
the carpet bag.

“Doctor,
this is a pure and simple case of walking pneumonia in my opinion, would you
agree?” the woman asked.

Colton
nodded his head, his face grave. “Yes. With rest and herbs she should be rid of
the cough and congestion in another week or two.”

“I
have the antibiotic herbs and some fever reducing spices for them to put into
broth.” The witch wiped her hands on her apron and held out her hand for the
carpet bag. Raven handed it to her directly.

“You
are an excellent herbalist, madam. And with your skills at diagnostics, it’s a
wonder that you didn’t go to the university and get a medical degree.”

The
old woman blushed and pushed on his shoulder like a school girl. She batted her
eyelashes at him. “Go on, young man. You certainly know how to flatter a
woman.”

Between
the two of them, they finished administering the medications and started a
boiler in the room with some menthol herbs. Afterward, they all stepped out
into the hallway. Raven could remain silent no longer. “Madam, do you happen to
know the whereabouts of the official Wood Witch? She has kidnapped a child that
was in my care, and I am desperate for his return.”

The
woman’s face fell into a frown. She scratched a mole on her chin while her cold
blue eyes assessed Raven again. “If the Wood Witch has your child, it is a
grave matter, indeed. As I said, the witch uses the darkest of alchemy and will
be performing the process of taking the child’s power. Was he a special child?”

Raven’s
imagination drew outlandish conclusions, and she couldn’t speak for a moment
with her heart in her throat.

Colton
answered for her. “Yes, he has been diagnosed by a priest as having a demon.
The demon causes the child to have seizures and electrical items around him go
quite haywire.”

The
witch cackled. “Oh my. A demon?” She laughed harder.

Raven
frowned at the woman who laughed so hard she literally slapped her knee.
Shaking her head and wiping a tear from her eye, the witch finally got hold of
herself. “That child has no demon. He has a rare gift. Electromagnetic
manipulation. The child just has no control over it.”

Raven
blinked hard.

Colton
stammered. “Electromagnetic manipulation? You believe he has control over
machines with his mind?”

The
old woman tapped Colton on the nose with the tip of her finger and batted her
eyelashes again. “Exactly. You’re a smart one, too.”

Raven
shook her head at the flirting old woman. “So if we don’t find Darius soon, you
are saying the witch will eat his heart to gain the power of electro…whatever
you call it?”

The
woman rolled her eyes and nodded. “Exactly.”

Adrenaline
coursed through Raven’s muscles and her head began to throb with the need to
hurt someone. “Have you heard of where I might find this witch?”

“That’s
not very tricky. I know exactly where the woman will be.”

Suddenly,
Raven’s vision became clear, and her hopes hinged on the woman’s next words.

The
woman trailed her fingers along the buttons of Colton’s waistcoat while she
spoke. “She must wait for the new moon before she can do it, and there is only
one location the Wood Witch can go and perform the ceremony necessary to
transfer the boy’s heart to hers. The top of Cirrus Mountain.”

Raven
pushed past them in a flurry and dashed down the stairs. The questions flitted
about her head like a caged, wild bird. What day was it? Which phase of the
moon were they in? How much time did she have?

At
the bottom of the stairs, she nearly ran into the grandmother as the woman
turned up the curving staircase. On the tips of her toes, Raven changed course
around her, focused on the goal of the door. She barreled out and crunched
through the snow, her eyes searching the sky, but finding no moon. The wind
chilled her, and howled through the tops of the trees. The house was at the top
of the hill so she could see over the expanse of neighbor’s homes. A zeppelin
tethered in the back yard blotted out half the sky behind it.

Grant
and Monroe dashed up behind her, simultaneously asking the same question. “What
is the matter?”

“What
phase is the moon in? Do either of you know?”

They
shook their heads in unison. Of course they didn’t know–only farmers and
fishermen paid attention to that sort of thing. The drifts around the side of
the house made the snow half way to her knee as she jogged through it to the
backyard. Finally she saw it. The sliver in the sky showed a waning moon of
less than a quarter. They only had a few days to find him.

“What
does it mean?” Jack asked over Raven’s shoulder as she shuddered in the cold.
He removed his jacket and put it around her. She sank into it and let him put
his arms around her.

“We
have only three days to find Darius before the witch eats his heart.”

Confusion
and horror slipped down Jack’s spine. “What are you talking about?”

Colton
and Rupert slid up behind Monroe. The old reaper shook his head, eyes wide. His
voice sounded suddenly hoarse. “What do you mean the witch is going to eat his
heart?”

Raven
shook her arms free of Jack’s coat and pulled away. The look on her face was
stern and sad. Her watery eyes met his for a moment, and then she darted off
again toward the woods. He took two steps to follow, but Colton grabbed him by
the arm. “Captain. Marietta has told us about the Wood Witch’s plans. She has
also diagnosed the condition that afflicts the younger baron with a greater
degree of accuracy than I believe anyone else ever has.”

Jack
continued to stare at the spot in the trees where Raven had disappeared. “Who’s
Marietta?”

Colton
cleared his throat. “She’s the herbalist and healer the grandmother mistook for
the Wood Witch.”

Jack
tore his eyes away from the shadows and met Colton’s. For some reason, Colton’s
cheeks had reddened. Monroe looked ready to start for the woods himself. Jack
nodded to him, and without a word, the elder reaper darted for the woods.

The
witch caught up to them in the backyard while Jack stood with his two
guardsmen. Her hair no longer looked wild as it was before. She’d taken a
moment to tame it. The woman sidled up alongside Colton and looked up at him,
batting her eyelashes. Colton stood tall and stiff, trying his best not to look
at the woman. He leaned toward Jack. “Perhaps Marietta could be of assistance
to us? She’s offered to allow us to stay at her house in Ipswich if we’re
interested in using it is a base?”

Jack
gripped his coat in his fists and continued staring toward the woods. He nodded
absentmindedly. It had grown too dark for travel. With the group’s loss of
sleep the night before, it would be best to get a rest. He turned back toward
Colton and the witch. “Tell me everything. Why did Raven mention the Wood Witch
eating Darius’s heart?”

Raven
stopped and leaned against the rough bark of a pine. The deeper woods had grown
pitch black, the trees shrouded shadows. She gasped, hyperventilating. Panic
had her in its grip. She couldn’t let the witch kill Darius. He was her one
chance to redeem her part in her father’s death. If the boy died now, it would
be her fault and she’d need to redeem him, too.

Leaves
rustled behind her and she whipped her head toward the sound. Moving in
otherwise specter-like silence, Monroe’s outline strode for her. He called out
when he was still but a shadow. “Raven, you must stop running. You do not even
know which way you are going. You cannot let your emotions take control of you
now, when the boy needs you most.”

Raven
swallowed hard. What he said sounded just like something her father would say.
And the thought of that sobered her but she couldn’t stop the tears. Monroe
wrapped his arms around her. She sunk into him, wiping her face on his rags. He
smelled faintly of animals and hay—the shed barn he’d slept in the night
before. It was a comforting smell and reminded her of the farm she and her
father had lived in outside of New Haven.

How
could she become so weak over this? She felt embarrassed. But the man reminded
her of her father, and her father had never seen tears as weakness. Only
because she needed to stay strong for the sake of other men did she learn to
swallow her tears. He patted her on the back after she’d been silent for a few
minutes. “Are you ready to return?”

She
nodded into his rags and pushed away from his chest. The dark sky peeked
through the pine needle canopy, almost starless. She knelt, picked up a handful
of snow, and scrubbed her face with it. The flash of ice cooled her hot cheeks
and melted, washing away the streaks made by her tears.

He
patted her on the shoulder, and they walked together, backtracking their way
toward Grandview. Monroe led her the same way her father would have. He blazed
the trail ahead of her, while she followed his shadow. It became easier to see
as they neared the edge of the forest. The gas lamps of Grandview created a
glow at end of the trees. They broke from the canopy into the open, enveloped
in amber light. Her eyes had adjusted in the slow progression.

The
three guardsmen huddled together next to the manor in deep conversation. Raven
scooped snow again and wiped at her face once more. She hoped that her eyelids
wouldn’t be lined with tell-tale red. With a set jaw, she approached the group
beside Monroe.

The
witch spoke, her hands moving vigorously. “The very idea that the duke would
kill his own son because he believed him possessed by a demon is ridiculous
religious nonsense. This just goes to show why the southern province has
continued to remain autonomous instead of coming under his rule. If the elder
baron were to usurp his father’s seat, it would be an entirely different story.
But as it is, we’d never come under the rule of a child-killing tyrant.”

Rupert
gripped his sword’s hilt, and his face held the grimace of a man trying his
best to withhold a dissatisfaction. Jack and Colton listened to the woman with
polite smiles, but neither nodded in agreement.