Part V
The cold afternoon sun offered little warmth, but Kali did not care. They had reached the top of the ridge first. Three sleds trundled up the switchbacks below, dogs huffing and straining. For her steam engine, the incline had been no trouble.
She patted the side of the boiler. “Good girl.”
“Does it perform better if you speak to it?” Cedar lowered a spyglass, a spyglass that had been turned not toward the mushers behind them but toward the sky ahead.
“You’re not teasing me, are you?” Kali arched an eyebrow. “Because I found you cuddled up with your rifle this morning.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t speaking to it.”
“Just snuggling?”
“Precisely so.”
“Uh huh.” Kali eased a lever forward, and the sled chugged into motion.
They followed a broken-in trail leading down a slope toward a long, narrow lake. The path weaved through evergreens and around hills, terrain that could hide an army. Cedar checked the spyglass often, though they had not glimpsed the airship, or anyone except other mushers, since the night before.
“See anything?” Kali asked for the third or fourth time.
Considering how often Cedar had the spyglass to his eye, she wondered how he kept from tripping over a low branch or stumbling into a snow drift. More than the average share of dexterity, she supposed. He would be a good man to have around, especially if her life continued along this new path, which included far too many people attacking her for her tastes. But what reason did he have to stick around? Hell, she still did not know why he was in the race with her.
“Nothing yet.” Cedar lowered the spyglass.
“It’d be convenient if anyone else who wants to harass me would wait until after the race.” The smokestack brushed the bottom of a branch, knocking snow onto Kali. She brushed it off and glowered at her surroundings. Even nature was conspiring against her.
“It would be smarter for your foes to kidnap you out here rather than in town, where you’ve a measure of protection from the security you’ve built into your workshop.”
Kali considered him out of the corner of her eye. “Should I be alarmed that you’ve been thinking that over?”
Cedar’s gaze had turned skyward. “Just be ready for more trouble.”
They neared the shoreline of the long lake. Snow and ice, glinting like a thousand candles beneath the sun, coated every inch of the surface. Kali stopped the sled, so she could pull tinted goggles out of her gear.
“We’re not going across the ice, are we?” Cedar asked.
The lake stretched a couple miles to the north and south, but the trail led straight across, where less than a mile separated the shorelines.
“Fastest route,” Kali said. “It’ll be thick enough to support us.” She hoped.
The river had been no problem, but the ice might not be as dense in the center of the lake. Numerous scrapes in the snow from sled runners proved many dog teams had traveled this way, but her steam sled had more mass.
“That’s not my concern.” Cedar stretched a hand toward the bare, open expanse. “There’s no cover. If we are attacked, we’ll be vulnerable.”
Kali checked behind them. The first dog sled team had reached the top of the ridge. “This is the race-approved route. If we go around, we’ll be breaking our own trail and dodging trees and shrubs all the way. It’ll add at least an hour, probably more.”
“The race money will do you no good if you’re captured. Or killed.”
“An odd attitude from someone whose payday hinges on our victory.”
Cedar sighed. “Fine. Go.”
They proceeded onto the ice. Kali almost wished he had not brought the threat up, for she spent the first couple of minutes with her nose to the sky, trying to watch the cloudless expanse in every direction. A jolt and an angry grind brought her attention back to the trail. She had run over the end of a log hidden in the snow and ice.
She decided to leave the sky-watching to Cedar. If she tipped the sled on the slick surface, righting it would prove a tremendous chore, and the fire in the furnace would probably go out.
Ice cracked and groaned as they neared the center of the lake. Nothing out of the ordinary, Kali told herself. It would be a month or more before anything thawed around these parts. In her mind, she knew that, but she could not keep from feeling nervous. They were now an equal distance from both shorelines, so there was no quick route to escape if something happened.
Kali nudged the lever forward a little more, increasing speed. Black smoke billowed from the stack.
“There they are,” Cedar said.
He spoke so calmly, she thought he meant something innocuous, but, when he pointed with his rifle, she spotted the “they” of which he spoke. Her stomach sank.
The airship glided over the trees at the southern end of the long lake, and its oblong shadow spilled onto the ice. By daylight, the massive balloon holding it aloft was just as dark as it had been by night. Only a great white cougar skull painted on one side interrupted the blackness of the material. The wooden hull, too, bore black paint, giving the ship a nefarious bent.
Despite the threat the craft represented, Kali found herself longing for the chance to inspect it from the inside. She had read about airships, and pored over schematics, but she had never been on one. Oh, to see its engines....
She shook her head and told herself to concentrate.
There was no question about the ship’s course: it veered toward them, a route that would allow it to cut them off.
Kali made a guess as to its speed and hers. “It’ll intercept us two hundred meters before we reach the trees.”
“While I appreciate the math that must have gone into that estimate,” Cedar said, “it’ll be in firing range well before then.”
“Oh. Right.”
She nudged the lever again, pushing the sled to full speed. It would not be fast enough.
As the airship closed, the crew scurrying about on the deck—readying the weapons for battle—came into view. Cannons and harpoon launchers glinted, reflecting the sun’s rays.
A cannon boomed. The black, round projectile lofted from the bow of the ship and smashed into the frozen lake a dozen yards away. It crashed through, hurling water and ice into the air. Shards pelted the sled, and Kali lifted a hand to protect her face.
“Range-finding shot,” Cedar said, voice calm, as he continued to jog alongside the sled.
“The commentary is great, but a plan would be better,” Kali said. “Do you want to come up with something brilliant or should I?”
“We can’t do anything to harm it from down here. We can just hope to dodge fire long enough to reach shore and maybe find protection from the aerial assault. Though those branches don’t offer much cover this time of year. And there are dozens of people up there, so they could just come down and hunt us on foot.”
“I see,” she said. “Your vote is for me to come up with something brilliant.”
The firing of another cannon drowned out his snort, but she read his expression easily enough. She tweaked her controls to vent more smoke from the stack, hoping it would obscure the sled’s exact position from above.
“Maybe we can tear up the balloon somehow,” Kali said. “That would steal their gas and force them to land.”
“With what? We could fire a thousand bullets into a balloon that size before it made a difference.”
Kali grumbled, knowing he was right. “Letting out the air would be too slow. You’re right. Well, not air. Gas. Hydrogen. That’s what they usually use to achieve lift, right? Because it’s lighter than air?”
Cedar gave her a blank stare.
“Never mind. I’m getting an idea. Come drive. Let me see if I can rustle up something.”
Despite his pessimism thus far, Cedar took the steering controls without comment. Kali climbed past the steam engine and clambered onto the cargo area up front. She dug into their supplies. Her knuckles brushed a lumpy
bag. The sugar. Yes, that would help. She nodded to herself as her idea solidified.
More cannons boomed. The sled lurched, nearly flinging Kali from her perch. She caught a strap in time to keep from falling off.
“What’re you doing?” she yelled.
A cannonball slammed into the ice a yard to the right.
“Zigzagging our path so we’ll be harder to target,” Cedar said.
“Warn a girl next time, will you?” She’d make a damned easy target if she fell off and got herself run over.
The sled lurched again.
More prepared, Kali clung to the packs and wedged her boot into the gap between the smokestack and the engine casing. She dug into the supplies again, this time pulling out her jar of kerosene.
“If my idea works, we won’t have fuel for a lamp tonight,” she announced as she poured sugar into the jar to thicken the liquid. The wobbling and veering sled made it hard to keep her hand steady, and kerosene sloshed over the edge more than once. Wind whipped hair into her eyes, adding to the challenge.
“What idea?” Cedar called. “What’re you making?”
The sled swerved left, and she almost lost the jar. A cannonball slammed into the ice where they would have been if Cedar had not turned in time. She gulped and decided not to yell at him.
“I can’t dodge these indefinitely,” he added.
Kali tore the empty sugar sack into strips and dampened one with kerosene. She stoppered the jar, leaving her impromptu fuse dangling. The roar of cannons was much closer now, and the booms came more frequently. A ball pounded down ahead of them. A jagged fracture formed in the ice, quickly turning into a fissure dozens of meters long. Maybe longer.
“Stop!” Kali cried.
Cedar cursed, but figured out how to throw on the brakes. “We’re sitting ducks now. Unless we can go back.”
The airship blotted out the sun as it drew closer. For the moment, nobody was firing. Why bother? They could surely see the fissure blocking the path.
“No,” Kali said. “We’re surrendering.”
“What?”
“They want me alive, I’m told.” She scrambled off the sled, skidding when she hit the ice, and thrust the jar into his hands. “Can you throw as accurately as you shoot?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll try to get them to come lower. When you think it’s time, light that and hurl it against the balloon. Uhm, you might need to shoot the jar right before it lands too. I’m not sure it’ll break on impact against a balloon.”
Cedar stared at the jar. “You want a lot from me.”
“You’re very good, remember?”
Kali left her weapons and walked away from the sled, away from the black smoke she hoped would hide Cedar’s movements. She spread her arms to show her hands were empty.
The airship hovered, the rumble of the engine audible even dozens of feet below. Numerous faces peered over the black rail at her. A dark-haired woman wearing a British admiral’s bicorne hat strolled into view, her hands clasped behind her back.
A female captain? That had to be rare, but, from the stolen hat and the way others watched her for cues, she must be in charge.
Behind Kali, Cedar muttered something to himself. She wondered if he recognized the woman.
The captain leaned against the side of a harpoon launcher, and Kali looked closely at the person manning the weapon for the first time. It was the female bandit who had ambushed the sled the day before, the one Kali had dismissed as unlikely to trouble them again. She snorted. That woman now had a harpoon aimed at her chest.
Kali resisted the urge to skitter back and take cover behind the sled. The female bandit would not do anything without an order from the captain. Probably.
“You folks looking for me?” Kali called.
“Reckon so,” the captain yelled over the thrum of the engines. “You’re Ezekiel McAlister’s kid, right?”
“What if I’m not? Would you feel bad for shooting at some innocent sled racer?”
“Nah. As you can see, the boys need target practice.”
“They were good enough to mess up the race route.” Kali considered the airship, wondering how she could convince the captain to lower it. Even if Cedar had an excellent throwing arm, the balloon was a hundred feet above the lake at the moment. “What do you want?”
“You. Care to make things easy on yourself? We can lower a rope, so you can climb up. Might even spare your partner cowering behind the sled there.”
Kali did not look behind her. She did not want to draw attention to Cedar. “I could make things that easy, but only if you agree to spare him and the sled. It’s a prototype, and it’s worth a fortune.”
“Is it now?” The captain stroked her chin.
“I mean, it might be valuable to some people in the business,” Kali blurted, as if she knew she had said too much and wanted to cover her words. “No use for pirates. And it’d be a pain to tote out of here. Best to let my colleague finish up the race with it, and I’ll go peacefully with you.”
The captain had already turned her back to the rail. She waved a hand, and a coal-smeared man came into view. The engineer, Kali guessed. They had a quick conversation, which involved frequent gesturing at the sled and the airship.
The female bandit pointed Cedar’s direction, and Kali grimaced. Having someone who had seen him fight could ruin everything. But the captain merely waved for the bandit to pay attention to the harpoon launcher.
“New plan,” the captain said to Kali. “We’re taking the sled too.”
“What?” Kali yelled. “You don’t need to—it’s of no use to you. It’s—”
“Mine now.” The captain rested a hand on the harpoon launcher. “Shoot the man if he tries anything.”
“The sled is heavy,” Kali said, continuing to argue to keep their attention focused on her. “Are you sure you’ll be able to fly with so much extra weight?”
Nobody was paying attention to her. The ship drew lower and lower, then angled toward the sled. Men threw ropes with grappling hooks over the sides.
Kali crossed her fingers inside her gloves. The ship floated closer.
Just as she feared Cedar was waiting too long, the jar flew over her head, a flame dancing along its fuse.
“Look out!” someone shouted.
“Attack!”
“No, it’s a—what is that?”
A rifle cracked behind her. The jar exploded against the balloon.
Flames burst to life. They licked the balloon walls, burning the kerosene concoction, but they did not pierce the material. The fire would die quickly without access to the hydrogen inside.
“Damn, damn.” Kali spun and ran for the sled. “Cedar, you need to—”
A foot in front of her, a harpoon slammed into the ice. She lunged to the side to avoid the quivering shaft, but slipped. She flailed, trying to catch her balance. The ice thwarted her, and she landed on her back. Hard. Air whooshed from her lungs, and the blow stunned her.
“Get her!” someone cried.
A rifle fired again. Certain someone was shooting at her, Kali buried her head beneath her arms.
An explosion ripped across the frozen lake. Wind blasted Kali’s hat from her head. The ensuing jumble of shouts and screams were too tangled to decipher.
Kali peeped between her arms.
Smoke choked the air, blocking out the sun. The airship was careening across the lake, flames streaking from the balloon’s side. It crashed into the ice and skidded a half mile before ramming into the shoreline.
A gloved hand descended into her vision. “This hydrogen you speak of... It seems it’s flammable.”
She accepted his hand. “Highly.”
“Smart lady.” Cedar surprised her by pulling her into a hug.
With the immediate threat gone, Kali’s legs grew rubbery, and she was glad for his support. “I still don’t trust you,” she felt compelled to add.
Cedar chuckled. “Perhaps not, but I’m beginning
to trust you.”
The words surprised her, not only because he said them but because they made a lump form in her throat. She could not remember anyone ever saying that to her. Not trusting her voice, she decided not to respond. A hug was fine, but she certainly did not want him thinking his words affected her.
Sled runners rasped on the ice behind them.
Kali pulled away from Cedar. A team of dogs trotted past, angling their sled to skirt the fissure. The musher, an older man with a trapline above town, lifted a hand.
“Good show.” He smirked. “Hope it doesn’t delay you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Kali called. “We’ll catch up.”
A second sled team was passing farther down. “Don’t bring that trouble back to town, McAlister!”
Kali gritted her teeth. “Let’s get going, Cedar.”
But Cedar was pulling his pack off the sled. He shouldered it, checked his sword, and reloaded his rifle.
“What’re you doing?” she asked. “You’re leaving?”
He pointed the rifle at the burning wreck. “I want to make sure nobody’s left to come after us on foot.”
“It’ll be dark before you make it there and back. I can’t wait for you. I have to press on. I have to—”
Cedar gripped her arm. “I know. I’ll catch up to you when you make camp.”
Kali watched for a moment as he jogged across the ice and snow. As capable as he was, she felt guilty about letting him go off alone. There had been a lot of pirates manning that ship. Many would be injured, and some might be dead, but there would be able-bodied men and women left too.
She yanked her gaze away and returned to the sled. Cedar knew what he was doing. She had to focus on the race. The last night was coming up, and she had expected to be ahead by this point. Larger and less maneuverable, her sled would be at a disadvantage weaving amongst the tightly spaced trees that dotted the remaining terrain. She had to make sure she regained the lead before nightfall. That was the only way she would be in position to fly into town at the head of the pack in the morning.