Chronicles of Steele: Raven 2: Episode 2 (5 page)

The woman held up a finger and pulled out a few drawers. The brakes on the train squealed behind them as it pulled to a complete stop. Raven stiffened further. The saleslady returned with a woven silk burgundy and camel striped scarf. Raven nodded and leaned toward Darius. “Pick out a hat.”

Darius looked up at her with questioning eyes and whispered, “But I’ve never worn one before. I’m not cold.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes we must try something for the first time.”

He nodded and looked back at the cart. He chose a blue and red striped knit beanie and held it up to the lady to show her. The sales lady smiled wider, almost jumping up and down in giddiness as she took the coins.

In a smooth motion, Raven yanked the beanie out of Darius hands and shoved it on his head. She leaned toward him. “You’ll need to wear it now, understand?”

He nodded and adjusted it so that it sat over his head appropriately. Raven put on her own hat and wrapped the scarf around her chin. She glanced back toward the train cars. Grant and his team of guards spilled into the station and spread out. Among them was a large, bald, bear-like man with a brass ocular. She blinked hard. There had been only one man she remembered from her childhood who had one.
Jasper Hollow.

Behind her, a man coughed. She stiffened and turned slightly toward the anomaly in rags. “Excuse me, miss, but would you mind taking care of this for me?” He leaned on his cane and held out the black metal chronometer. A glass circle on the back of the timepiece exposed its gears and springs. Darius reached a hand toward the watch.

With a quick motion, she snatched his arm back and stepped in front of the boy. “I don’t believe we will, sir. We do not want to be held responsible for such an item.”

He scratched his stubble and held the watch to his ear. “I’m afraid I have some business to attend to. An old friend of mine just arrived unexpectedly, and I’m going to need to meet with him.” He tilted his head toward the guards and their rotund associate. “I’d hate for anything to happen to this heirloom. And I’d trust a lady who cares so much for her…son to keep care of it on the train while I attend to my old acquaintance?”

The man’s smile made his eyes into half moons. Their icy blue color didn’t seem to hold any animosity. Their distinct color reminded her of her father’s, but was missing the slightly violet vein. His smile seemed genuine, but it surprised Raven when she found her hand outstretched, and the black pocket watch placed in it. The man nodded and snapped his heels together before turning and striding onto the platform, directly into the thick of brown coats and Jasper Hollow.

The navy blue-clad conductor popped out from the nearest car and shouted down the platform. “Have your tickets ready as you board please.”

Raven shook her head to clear it and shoved the watch into her carpet bag as she dug for the tickets. All the while her eyes never left the ragged man for more than a moment.

“Did you know him?” Darius asked.

She shook her head as she pulled the tickets out.

“He acted like he knew you.”

She nodded and stepped up to the conductor, tearing her eyes away from the situation brewing down the platform. When she handed the conductor her papers, he used a paper punch to stamp them and offered Raven a hand as she mounted the step. When the conductor gripped her hand, the commotion intensified. She stiffened but did her best not to look.

Darius gaped at the upheaval as the conductor started toward the tumult. Raven reached back and snapped one of his suspenders. “Let’s go.”

“But he moves as fast as you.” His eyes were wide with both wonder and horror. “I saw him. He had weapons hidden under the rags, and he’s attacking the brown coats.”

Raven nodded and pushed him into the train car, afraid to look. The last thing she wanted was to see the killing ways of another reaper. A pang of remorse struck her heart at the thought of seeing Captain Grant die.

Jack stepped off the train before the rest of his guard, but stood on the platform to survey the crowd standing in the station. Not one person dressed in all black. Either Raven wore a disguise, or she wasn’t there. A man in leather and rags approached, waving an arm to get their attention. His eyes were fixed on Jasper. The bald bear of a reaper noticed the ragged man at nearly the same moment. The sinews on Jasper’s neck stood out as he tensed. Jack’s eyes darted between the pair in momentary shock

“Monroe Striker,” Jasper said through clenched teeth. “It’s been a long time.”

“Still the sharp shooter, Jasper?” The ragged man smiled wide and tipped his head.

Jasper’s nostrils flared, and he lifted his chin.

“The only reaper to choose a gun as his weapon of choice,” Monroe continued, “and loved the weapon so much, he had a doctor of alchemy replace his eye with an ocular to help with long range aim.”

“There’re not many reapers anymore, Monroe.”

“I heard tell you were training new recruits.”

Jasper harrumphed. “No true believers—no real reapers.”

Jack drew hold of himself and peered over the shoulder of the two older men. He found a woman in a burgundy hat, her face hidden, boarding the train. The wide-eyed boy with her reminded him of Darius. But why would he be getting on the train? Still, it wouldn't hurt to check it out. He took a step forward, but a wooden cane snapped in front of him and blocked his way. “Sir, might I request a word with you?”

Before Jack could respond, Jasper’s short sword, with a barely noticeable flick of the wrist, pointed at Monroe’s chin. Monroe pulled a sword from beneath his rags and pointed it at Jasper’s chest faster than Jack's eyes could register.

Jasper snarled. “This conversation is over.” He knocked the sword away from his chest and lunged toward the rag-covered man.

The movements of the older men astonished Jack. They moved in the same impossible speed that Raven had possessed. Jack didn’t know how long the melee lasted, but somehow he and his men ended up in the middle of the fray. His men were as bewildered as he when nothing they did could slow down the fighting of the blurred figures. Instead, the brown coats were kicked and punched whenever they neared them. Like a tornado, the clashing of swords and wooden cane moved about the station, entangling with everything in its path. An elbow jabbed Jack in the stomach, and the cane made a hard but glancing blow against his shoulder.

Around them, the crowd dispersed to the safety of the train or the inner station. Jack spied Colton and Bradley coming from the cargo car, holding the flesh horses back from the conflict. A whistle pierced the chatter and three constables trotted toward the station.

“Stop. Desist this nonsense immediately!” A bushy browed constable with straight black hair held up a white-gloved hand.

The brawl halted, each of the reapers huffing. Sweat dripped from their foreheads and their faces burned red. Two of his brown-coated guardsmen lay on the concrete platform of the station, but struggled to stand once the furious tornado was brought to a standstill. Jack rotated his shoulder, trying to alleviate the pain.

“What is the meaning of this? You guardsmen are out of your jurisdiction. This is my territory.” The loud constable brushed off the sleeve of his green jacket.

Jack spoke. “We are here by order of the duke himself. His son has been kidnapped, and we have reason to believe him aboard the Airship Grommet. We request permission to search the Airship.”

The constable’s eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. “That is no reason for this commotion you have caused here. You are in the southern territories Captain…” He waited for an answer.

“Grant. Captain Jack Grant.”

“Constable Rockley at your service.” He gave a clipped bow. “Regardless, Captain Grant, we do not take kindly to strangers trampling our southern hospitality.” He glanced in the direction of the two panting older men. “And am I to assume these men are criminals?”

Jack shook his head. “One is our tracker, the other…”

“…is just leaving,” Monroe said as he straightened. He flashed his ticket toward the constable. “I’m afraid that the guardsmen’s tracker is an old friend of mine, and there has been bad blood between us for years. I’m sure we will cause you no more trouble.” He swept back into a deep bow and turned on his heel.

The Deputy started forward but shook his head and threw his hands up in a gesture that said “forget about it.” He turned back to Jack. “I don’t want to see your guardsmen or that tracker tearing up my town to find some boy who may or may not be here.”

Jack seethed at the “some boy” comment. To disrespect the baron in such a manner within New Haven could get you a night in the prison. “It is not our intention to cause you any disruption.”

The train whistle blew, signaling the train’s departure. Colton and Bradley led the horses toward the street to keep them from spooking when the train moved. In slow succession, the train began to pass by. One of the porters had trouble pushing the door to the cargo hold closed. A large kennel sat near the opening, and the animal within let out a bark as it passed.

Jack froze.
Nikki.
“Hey!” He jogged forward with the train. “We need to stop this train.”

Deputy Rockley put his hands on his hips. “Sorry, Captain Grant. You are out of your jurisdiction. There is no reason I can see to stop it.”

Jack came to a standstill and glared at the ignorant constable. Obviously, he was a man chosen by a popularity contest instead of merit. “We have reason to believe the duke’s son is on that train.”

Deputy Rockley rolled his eyes. “First he’s on the zeppelin, now he’s on the train. Which is it, Captain?”

Jack locked his jaw and glared at the man’s iron ignorance. He watched the train pick up speed and swing around the corner. From the caboose, Monroe leaned against the railing and waved.

Raven and Darius bypassed the travelling car and made for the dining car to get another spot of tea. The reaper’s stomach growled. She promised herself that she’d keep it light but not fast entirely on this trip. There shouldn’t have been any need. And now with leaving Captain Grant back in Westmoreland, there should be less, right?

They sat at a table and the waiter stepped over. Raven removed her hat and scarf, nodding to Darius to do the same. “We’ll take some cheese finger-sandwiches and tea. Maybe a few biscuits as well?”

Darius nodded. Raven smiled. A growing boy always had room for biscuits. The afternoon sun peeked in between the branches of pine trees as they passed. The river ran beside them to the east, reflecting the few orange rays of light. Inside the car, the tables and seats were fixed to the floor in booth- type formation, across from each other, with an aisle between.

Before the waiter returned with their tea, the ragged reaper sat down at a table across from them. He didn’t wear black. His rags were earth tones, or at least covered with dirt. No blood stained them. Raven’s shoulders relaxed before she realized. Wait. If this man made it aboard the train before departure, did anyone else? Her eyes darted toward the back of the train, the direction from which the man had come.

He leaned across and smiled. “Don’t worry your pretty little head—no one but me made it on the train.” He put his feet up on the seat across from him. “I waved at them all from the caboose.”

Darius laughed, leaned his head in and whispered, “So you didn’t kill anyone?”

The man put his hands behind his head and slumped into his seat, closing his eyes. “No need to kill anyone unnecessarily. More lives to redeem is not what I need.”

“You sound just like Raven.”

Raven glared at Darius and shook her head once. She didn’t want the boy to talk to the rag man at all, much less talk about her.

The man opened one eye. “You don’t mind if I ask for that chronometer, do you?”

She shook her head. She’d forgotten about it. Her red carpet bag sat on the seat beside her in the booth. She pulled it into her lap and dug through. The black pocket watch lay next to her arrows and a sheathed knife.  Its metal felt cool to the touch. She held it out across the aisle to the man, but pulled back as he reached for it. “What is the significance of this thing, and why did you ask me to hold it?”