The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) (5 page)

              With a nod, she dropped the metal into my palm. There was a pin placed on the back of it, and at once, I recognized it as a piece of jewelry, a brooch, which people used to fasten scarves and traveling jackets around their necks. My mother used to have some of the same thing. Where they were now, I had no idea. Just after she died, we had to sell most of her things to make ends meet.
          “That’s a mighty interesting piece, isn’t it?” Alice said, her grey eyes twinkling with her smile.
              I grinned and turned over the brooch in my hand, using my thumb to wipe off a streak of thick, caked-on dirt and soot. The thing seemed to be partially blackened, as if it had been in a fire at some point. It was a decorative logo, a symbol for one of the cities in the Dominion, but I didn’t recognize it. It had the same inverted triangle, the same three vertical lines above it and the two diagonal lines on each side, but underneath it was a name that I didn’t know. It was hard to see through all the filth on it, but I could still make it out.
              “Helios?” I read slowly, looking up at Alice. “Is this what you wanted me to see?”
              She smiled at me and nodded, leaning on her wooden countertop. “I thought of you when I saw it. You like it?”
              I rested the brooch on my fingertips, bouncing it slightly. It was heavy, and it was clearly very old. It was intriguing, but I didn’t know why she would have sent for me to stop by just for this piece of jewelry. “Where did you get this?” I asked her, knowing full well what she would say.
              She shrugged and smiled. “The same way I get everything, darling. The winds brought it to me.”
              I nodded and chuckled. Sure enough, Alice gave that same, mysterious answer whenever anyone asked where she’d received something. She dealt discreetly, kept no records, and never revealed a source. I used to think it was just to make sure that no one else could poach her customers, but these days, I knew she was just trying to protect people. Anyone is more open to dealing dangerous or rare items when there’s no risk of being outed. Usually, I saw this as good thing. As I looked down at the brooch in my hands, though, I couldn’t fight the curiosity I felt about it. What city was it from? And from when? Where was Helios? I’d never heard of it. It looked pretty beat up. Could it have been from a crashed ship? That didn’t make any sense. If it was from a ship, it wouldn’t have had the Dominion crest attached to it.
              “Helios,” I whispered again, seeing if it would jog my memory somehow. No joy.
              “You should keep it,” Alice told me, giving me a telling smile.
              I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why?”
              “You don’t like it?”
              I felt my face soften. “No, of course I like it,” I said, staring down at the oversized brooch. “It’s really…interesting.”
              “Then, it’s yours,” Alice said firmly, her smile still wrinkling her cheeks.
              I closed my fist around the strange piece of jewelry. I couldn’t deny that it fascinated me. If nothing else, the novelty of it was enough to make me want it. I decided that I would show it to Nichols, if I remembered, to see if he knew anything about it. He had a thing for history. If anyone would have an idea, it would be him.
              “Thank you,” I said to Alice. “Are you sure I can’t give you anything for it?”
              She waved her hand and stood up. “Don’t worry yourself. There’s another customer right there,” she said, pointing to the door. I turned around just in time to hear the old bell ring loudly as a man walked into the shop. I had expected someone familiar, someone I knew from around town. Instead, this particular man was unlike any I had ever seen.
              The first thing I noticed was his hat. He wore a brown wool fedora. I only knew the name of it because Nichols would sometimes wear a similar one when he traveled. Strapped to the sides of this man’s hat, there was a set of tiny screwdrivers, probably used for minor repairs of some kind. Beneath the hat, his hair was long and dark, and was pulled back into a ponytail that was tucked into the collar of his brown leather coat. The coat hung down to his knees, and matched his leather boots, which came up to the middle of his calves. His beard looked similar to Nichols’, only a bit less controlled and much, much darker. My eyes were also drawn to his right hip.
              He wore a belt with a holster that hung off the side, which would usually be reserved for a gun of some kind. This guy, though, had stuffed his holster with a harmonica and some type of a two-pronged metal tool that I didn’t recognize. The strange man sauntered up towards the counter and stopped just before it, giving Alice a smile that showed off his perfectly straight teeth. Honestly, I’d expected him to be missing a few, judging by the way he looked.
              “Hello, madam shopkeeper!” he said merrily, his head swiveling around to take in all the sights of the shop.
              “Hi there, stranger,” Alice replied warmly. “What can I do for you today?”
              The man drew in a deep breath past his teeth and whipped his coat back so he could place his hands on his hips. “I am wondering,” he began, still looking around, “if you have any pipe tobacco. I have a feeling I can get it cheaper here instead of Rainier.”
              Alice chuckled. “You guessed right. Any particular flavor?”
              The stranger tilted his head back and brought his hand up to scratch his beard. “Hmm…I like a good Cavendish,” he said. “Any chance you have it?”
              Alice winked at him. “I have everything, sugar.”
              The man smiled widely as Alice shuffled off to the back corner of her shop and began rifling through an old wooden box. While he waited, the stranger went back to gazing around the shop. After a while, his eyes drifted down to meet mine, and he gave me a smile.
              I blinked and looked away, but I couldn’t pretend that I hadn’t been staring at him. It had been way too obvious for that. Instead I just met his gaze again and gave him a return smile, which must have come across as awkward, because he laughed.
              “Good morning, miss,” he said to me, giving me a tip of his hat.
              Feeling my cheeks redden from embarrassment, I nodded back. “To you, too.”
              Still grinning happily, he turned around and leaned his back against the counter, staring out at all the odds and ends of Alice’s store. “I’ve never seen a shop quite like this,” he said, glancing over at me. “Very fascinating, indeed.”
              I took a moment and looked around the shop. I was used to seeing most of the things on the shelves and in the bins, but, from an outsider’s perspective, this place must have seemed like a madman’s playhouse. “Yeah, it’s…kind of a…one stop shop,” I said, wondering how insulted he’d feel if I just walked out the door right then.
              “Holy foxtrot,” the stranger said, his voice suddenly quiet and full of awe. “Is that what I think it is?”
              I looked over at him in confusion, but he was already walking in my direction, his eyes fixed on something just behind me. I set my brooch down on the counter and spun around just in time to see him pick up the same clay, flute-like instrument that Rigel and I had played with ages ago.
              “Oh,” I said, struggling to remember the name of the thing. Alice had told me when I’d looked at it. “It’s a…I think it’s called…an oc-oc..”
              “An ocarina,” he finished for me, still gazing down at it in wonderment.
              My eyebrows raised up. “You know it?”
              The man nodded, picking up the polished instrument from the shelf. “I used to have one. It was so fragile. Made of glass, you see. I broke it years ago. Haven’t seen one since.”
              Before I could respond, he brought the ocarina to his lips, placing his fingers deftly on the keyholes, and began to play.
              The music was entrancing. The notes were crisp and clear, and sounded so very pure as they curled up from the instrument like an unseen, hypnotic smoke. It sounded so serene and peaceful, as if the song was something meant to be played while alone. The stranger may as well have been alone. His eyes were closed, and his fingers moved surely and swiftly across the curved shell of the ocarina. I watched his hands closely, admiring the skill that he possessed, the discipline that it must have taken to learn such an odd instrument. After a moment, I realized that my mouth was hanging open, and I shut it.
              As his melancholic song came to a haunting end, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, looking up at me. “My apologies. Haven’t played one in so long.”
              “Where did you learn that song?” I asked, feeling almost drowsy from the effects of the music.
              The man smiled and then looked back down at the ocarina. “I wrote it,” he said simply. “How much would you take for such an exquisite artifact?”
              Alice, who I hadn’t seen return, was standing just behind me. She had heard the song, too. “With the tobacco, we can just call it five tokens.”
              The stranger grinned, surprised plastered on his face. “Such a bargain! You are too kind, madam!” he exclaimed, digging into the pocket of his long leather coat. From within it, he withdrew a single, paper bill. He held it out to Alice, but she – and I – could only stare at it. We never got actual hemp money in Adams. Here, the brass tokens were as good as money. They were only meant to
represent
actual, paper currency, but no one ever got around to exchanging them. Even the people from Rainier just used the tokens when visiting. Didn’t like to sully their real money on the likes of the Gap, I guess.
              After a moment, Alice accepted the bill and placed it in the tin box under the counter. “Thank you,” she said, just as warmly as before. “Where are you from, stranger?”
              The man tucked the ocarina and the bag of tobacco into his coat and smiled. “I come from the Cog, madam!” he replied enthusiastically. “Ravencog, that is. Killian Hardwick, is the name.” He stuck out his hand and Alice shook it.
                         “Alice Butterfield,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Killian.”
              Killian raised her hand to his lips and pecked a small kiss on the top of it. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Butterfield.”
              Alice laughed, her cheeks wrinkling deeply with her wide smile. “Well, how about that?” she joked. “Have you met Elana?”
              Being the only other person in the shop, it was clear that she was talking about me. Killian released Alice’s hand and took a step toward me. “Not formally,” he said, holding out his hand. “Killian Hardwick.”
              I shook his hand, despite the fact that his fingers were almost too wide for me to grip. I had never met anyone from Ravencog, unless I were to count Sparks. But he was always traveling. He was in Adams just as long as he was in any other place. He could just as easily have been from anywhere else. He had told me several stories about Ravencog, but he could never really give me a clear mental picture of it. It was almost as though he didn’t like talking about it. All I knew was that it was a massive atoll airship that constantly roamed the skies, and several hundred people lived on it.
           “Elana Silver,” I replied to Killian, hoping he wouldn’t kiss my hand like he had with Alice.
              Killian’s eyebrows nudged together slightly. “Silver,” he repeated, letting go of my fingers. “I feel as if I’ve heard that name before.”
              I nodded with a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, you probably have. You must be here for the race.”
              He gave me a nod and grinned excitedly. “Indeed, I am! Three years, I’ve been waiting. I came in sixth place last time, but I intend to be first this year.”
              I nodded, and couldn’t help but grin at him. Most people, I would just make an angry remark and walk away, but this man was different. Maybe it was my curiosity about his home city, or the way I liked his music, or maybe he was just interesting enough to capture my attention. In any case, I found myself wanting to talk more with him rather than just walking away.
              “Are you staying in town?” I asked him.
              He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I am not,” he said, looking genuinely sorry. “My traveling companion, Darby, is waiting for me at the docks. She and I have made arrangements at one of the inns on Rainier. We’re on our way there now.”
              “What cradle?” I asked, joining him as we began to walk toward the door.
              “Number eight,” he replied, still sounding chipper. “My ship is called the
Allegro.
”
              From behind me, Alice’s high voice rang out sweetly, catching me before I exited her shop. “Elana,” she called. “Don’t forget your jewelry.” She pointed to the scorched brooch that I had absentmindedly left on her counter.
              Jogging back in, I plucked the trinket from the counter and stuffed in the pocket of my slacks. “Thank, Alice.”
              “Take care, dear,” she said warmly.
              In another second, I had joined Killian once more, and we exited the shop, heading toward the docks. “So,” I started. “Did you stop in Adams for the cheap fuel?”
              Killian grinned. He was in the process of stuffing a small pinch of his new tobacco into a dark, wooden pipe. “An astute assumption,” he replied, pulling a lighter from his coat. “Making hydro fuel is a simple process. It doesn’t even require any complicated equipment. Yet most other places charge for it as though there’s some kind of shortage. Your town is widely hailed for being far less costly than Rainier. Far more cordial, as well.”