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Authors: Meljean Brook

Tags: #steampunk, #Historical paranormal romance, #Fiction

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BOOK: Tethered
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Children played, many of them laughing and running through the terrace paths. A few approached the bars, curiously peering at
Lady Nergüi
’s crew, their faces fresh and clean, their clothes well-worn and well-scrubbed. Now and again a shout from the adults warned them not to play too near the rubbish holes—an order which they seemed to gleefully disregard.

Two men arrived not long after the sun had risen—the civilian guards, Archimedes guessed. One of them was a familiar face.

Bilson leapt toward the doors. “Joseph!”

There was no mistaking the genuine joy on Bilson’s face, or the shock on his brother’s. Laughing, the two men embraced, arms awkward through the bars. Joseph’s companion watched the reunion, grinning, and near enough that Archimedes could have reached through, grabbed his shirt, and smashed him unconscious against the iron bars.

Obviously, these guards were just for show. Their only weapons were light clubs attached to a woven belt. Bushke apparently had no real fear that anyone might escape—or prove to be a threat if they did.

Joseph’s gaze lit on Archimedes then. His jaw dropped. “Gunther-Baptiste?” He laughed again. “I’m astonished I didn’t recognize you first! That waistcoat outshines the sun.”

“It’s my handsome face that blinds you, not the clothes.”
He clasped the man’s hand, told him quietly, “Your brother has mounted a rescue. Do you see how well it has gone?”

“A rescue?” Joseph’s grin faded a bit. His gaze darted to Bilson’s. “Why?”


Why?
” Bilson frowned. “You have to ask?”

“No, but…You shouldn’t have.” He stepped back from the doors. “I’m not going to leave.”

“If you’re afraid, Joseph, then know that we can—”

“Stop.” The younger man interrupted whatever assurances Bilson was about to make. “Stop talking, Miles. Listen. I understand that you think I’ve been abducted, forced to work, desirous of nothing but escape. And when those flyers came, I was terrified. But this is the truth, brother: Now that I’m here,
I don’t want to leave.

Beside Archimedes, Yasmeen began quietly laughing. “Oh, fuck me,” she said.

Joseph glanced at her, paused, then stared. Fear slipped into his eyes. Slowly, his gaze lifted to Archimedes’. “You two hired
her
? She killed your father.”

A controlling man, who never hesitated to kill someone who didn’t fall into line with his plans. “That made her the obvious choice,” he said dryly.

“Well, I appreciate it, I do. But, Miles, you shouldn’t have come. I’m married. I’m
content
, as I never have been before. This is my home.”

His face reddening, Bilson shook his head. “You’re only saying this because you feel that you have to. Bushke has persuaded you—”

“Bushke is the only reason I would
ever
consider going,” Joseph stopped him again. “Because you’re wrong. You’re
wrong.
And you shouldn’t have come. God knows if you’ll be able to get away. I’ll help you, but I won’t go with you.”

Apparently family could fluster Bilson, when nothing Archimedes had seen before ever had. He stalked away from the bars, sitting down hard on his bunk, and leveling a stare at his brother, as if a flounce and a pout might convince him when words couldn’t.

Joseph sighed and looked to Archimedes. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I understand why you came—if I’d heard that Miles
had been taken, I’d have tried to rescue him, too. But this place is…” He turned to look out over the gardens, seeming to struggle with the words. “I’ve never been a part of anything like this. No one lacks for anything. We share all that we sow. I feel at home here, and I never want to go. And I know it’s difficult to believe, but there are many of us who don’t want to leave.”

This might not be a wasted trip, then. “But there are those who do?”

“Of course. It doesn’t suit everyone.” A shadow crept over his face. He glanced to his companion, who was nodding. “Some of them, like Doyle here, they quietly ask and they wait. I’ve been with them when they’ve spoken with Bushke. But he’s determined. This is a war for him—a battle against the corruption of the outside world.”

Considering the manner in which he waged his war, that made no sense. “They why bring outsiders in?”

“So he can save them. He’s a bit of the Good Works sort, but without the hellfire and damnation. He doesn’t need that; he has the guards.”

Yasmeen’s green eyes narrowed dangerously. “And those who don’t ask quietly?”

“They’re sent down to the furnace to stoke. I haven’t been here long enough, but others tell me that no one who goes down comes back up.”

“Not since I’ve been,” Doyle spoke up. “And going on seven years now.”

“It’s Bushke, I know. When we talk to him about releasing those who want to leave, there’s
no
argument that he doesn’t seem to turn about. Not even shooting down those airships who won’t come. He justifies it every time, that if he let them go, they’d be a threat. That it just takes one balloon exploding here to kill two thousand of us, so the flyers are the city’s greatest defenders, not murderers. Within a few days, he’ll justify ripping that man’s guns off of him.”

He gestured toward Longcock, sitting on a nearby bunk. The first mate looked up, his expression bemused.

“I’m tempted to wait and see them try.”

“Resist temptation, my friend,” Archimedes said. “Especially in Eden.”

“Especially here,” Joseph said more seriously, and met Archimedes’ eyes again. “I thought of you often since coming here. You and the brotherhood, and those handbills we used to write. The way you could always point to a book that would help us find the right thing to say. I wish now that I’d paid more attention, and maybe I could find the words that made a difference.”

Flattering, but it probably wouldn’t have helped. “Some men, the words aren’t there, because they aren’t interested in the argument. They’re only interested in being right—
their
interpretation of right—and no argument will shake them from that.” Archimedes had learned this lesson well; he’d spent a good portion of his life trying to prove his father wrong. “In the end, you realize that the only thing to do is to get away from them, if you can. And if you can’t, to kill them.”

With a slight smile, Yasmeen looked up at him. “Or just be thankful when someone does it for you.”

And then fall madly in love with her.

“That won’t make
me
right,” Joseph said.

“It wouldn’t,” Archimedes said. “But when he decides that even the ones who quietly ask are a threat, you aren’t as likely to be sent down to the stoker’s quarters.”

With a sigh, he nodded. He looked over at his companion when Doyle gestured beyond their quarters, then glanced that way. His expression tightened. “Well, they’ve come already.”

A pair of gloved guards, their aviator goggles down around their necks. Had they been the ones to shoot down the
Canary
? Archimedes couldn’t be certain. And by tonight it wouldn’t matter.

“Captain,” the one on the right said. Though slightly bulkier than his companion, taller and darker, they shared the same lack of expression. “We’ve begun our inventory. Please accompany us to Father Bushke’s quarters. He will have questions regarding your crew and ledgers.”

“I will.” Yasmeen nodded coolly. “I suppose it’s to the city’s advantage if I tell him exactly which task each of my men and women are best suited for, and how much coal I’ll be adding to your bunkers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And this was exactly what they’d hoped for. Yasmeen
could scout the route to Bushke’s quarters and their layout. Still, Archimedes couldn’t stop the dread that filled his chest. He wouldn’t be at her side.

While the guards unlocked the door, she slanted a look at him from beneath her lashes. “I’ll be all right.”

Of course she would. He still worried. “I’d be less concerned if you had a weapon,” he said softly.

“I do.” Lightly, she traced a claw down his forearm. “And if I need another one, I’ll just take the guards’.”

Grinning, he watched her go. The door clanged closed again. A path led across the garden terraces, branching off here and there, leading to different stairs that apparently each descended into the living quarters of an airship. He’d never seen her amid such greenery. Her long easy stride was beautiful to behold anywhere, but here the feline grace seemed especially pronounced, almost a prowl. Perhaps because she walked past so many people who had no idea the sort of woman who’d been caged in their presence. Perhaps because the scouting mission brought her hunting instincts to the fore. Perhaps because he simply preferred to see her free.

Not that she hadn’t been already free, in a manner of speaking. She’d only remained caged because she’d chosen to stay there.

Whatever the reason, he could easily have spent all day, simply watching her walk—except that after a few minutes passed, he happened to glance at Joseph and Doyle. They watched her, too, but without the same awe. Frustration, pity, and helplessness marked their faces, instead.

Archimedes gripped the iron bars, his heart suddenly racing. “Joseph?”

Fists clenched, the man shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do for her.”

“What? What are you saying?”

Doyle answered. “A decade ago, perhaps a bit more…rumor is, a couple of men managed to escape. Since then, others have tried. Most failed, but they
tried
, leading the others who’d come with them.”

“All of them had been the masters of their ships, someone who was already in a position to lead them,” Joseph said. “So
Bushke began to eliminate the problem within the first few days.”

Eliminating it? Christ. Archimedes swung around, saw that Longcock had already risen to his feet and was heading for Maria Barriga de Lata.

Hurry.
But Archimedes slowed, forced himself to learn more. He couldn’t run into this situation blindly. “How?”

“On the main deck of his quarters. He meets with her, as they said. He’ll discover what he needs—strongbox combinations and the like. Then…they make it quick.”

Yasmeen was quick, too. But though she would be wary, he knew she wasn’t expecting this. “
How?

Doyle exchanged a glance with Joseph, then sighed. “From what I’ve seen, it’s a shot to the back of the head.”

God. Even Yasmeen couldn’t outrun that. “Open the doors.”

“You can’t do anything—”

“She’s my
wife
!”

Joseph stilled. With wide eyes, he looked to the others inside the cage. Whatever confirmation he was seeking, he must have found it.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We don’t have the key.”

No
. Archimedes didn’t waste time with the denial. It would slow him down, but he could pick the lock—if only he had a goddamn pick. Mrs. Fortescue rushed up, yanking a long pin from her hair.

With a saucy wink, she said, “We don’t need a key, sir.”

She went to work. Crouching beside him, Longcock opened a leather pouch streaked with drying offal. “Gun?”

“A revolver, my grappling, and the red-handled daggers.” He tore off his jacket, shrugged the grappling apparatus over his shoulders like a harness. He tucked the pistol beneath the leather band around his back, then pulled off his boots. “Joseph, take off your tunic.”

“What?”


Now.

The man drew off his top, shoved it through the bars. Archimedes pulled it on. Without needing to be asked, Joseph shucked his trousers, then looked doubtfully at the orange
breeches Archimedes tossed him in return. A moment later, Mrs. Fortescue opened the door with a flourish.

Archimedes hauled up the homespun. “I will kiss you later, you wonderful woman.”

“I’ll settle for another look at your backside.”

“I’ll give you both. Mademoiselle Vashon, I expect that there will soon be a commotion coming from Bushke’s quarters. Wait until most of the guards have run in that direction, then please free
Lady Nergüi
from her tether.”

“She told me that we would carry that exercise out tonight, sir.”

“We’re doing it now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did she point out the rapid-fire guns to you?”

“Yes. We’ve got those covered, sir.”

He looked to Longcock, who was sliding bullets into the ammunition chambers in his arms. A blissful smile carved the first mate’s face as he thrust each cartridge home. “You’ll take the hangar shed?”

“I will.”

Then Doyle, last. “You know others who want to escape?”

“Yes.”

“Then spread the word and tell them to get ready. I expect hell to break loose in about ten minutes.” He held the other man’s eyes. “You’ll have to fight with us. Use your hoes, if you have to. We need to take out the guards and flyers. Everyone else, we’re happy to leave alone as long as they don’t step into our way.”

With a glance at Joseph, who nodded, Doyle took off at a run. Archimedes stepped through the door, closed it behind him. If any guards happened to come this way, there was no reason to give them advance notice of their impending escape.

He tore off a sprig of jasmine and tucked it near his heart, then started off across the gardens.

*   *   *

Bushke had brought too many good people to New
Eden. By the time Yasmeen was halfway across the gardens, she’d seen her impending death in the slump of their shoulders
as she passed, in the angry stares they directed toward the guards leading her to Bushke’s quarters, in the closed eyes and prayers whispered on behalf of her soul.

Would they shoot her while she walked out here in the open?
No
, she thought. Fear could keep people complaisant, but terror often pushed them to action. Bushke could have made examples of any of the dissenters he’d sent below the city, but instead they’d quietly disappeared.

Once they reached his quarters, she’d probably be taken below, too, using his access through the hangar—or her throat slit while they spoke, and her body disposed of over the side.

A flash of reflected light caught her eye. Across the gardens, a guard stood on the bow of an old cloud trawler with a spyglass in one hand; he used a mirror to signal the two in front of her. Her escorts stopped, facing the direction from which they’d just come, their gazes focused beyond her.

BOOK: Tethered
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