Lincoln's Wizard (19 page)

“The guards aren’t likely to open the gates if there’s fighting outside,” Braxton said. “You won’t be able to get back in.”

“It’s worth the risk,” Hattie said, stepping up to the window.

As she stuck her head through, a tremendous explosion shook the tower and dirt rained down from the ceiling. Braxton grabbed Hattie and pulled her down beside the wall.

“What in the name of Heaven was that?” she asked, glaring at him.

“I didn’t do this,” Braxton repeated. “I don’t know. Maybe Pinkerton sent Sherman to bust you out.”

“Can’t be,” she said. “The anti-airship gun would be firing.”

From the hall outside the cell door, they could hear the sounds of running feet, punctuated by gunfire. Someone screamed just outside the door, not a scream of terror, but of mortal agony. The scream cut short and something heavy fell to the floor.

Braxton stood, hauling Hattie with him as if she had no weight at all.

“Go,” he said, propelling her toward the window. “Get away from here. I’ll follow you if I can.”

Hattie looked like she would to argue but seemed to think better of it. She turned and began squeezing through the opening.

“You, too,” Braxton told Laurie.

The air seemed to shatter, and Laurie’s response vanished in a sound so loud Braxton thought the room had been hit by cannon fire. Something slammed into his back, throwing him against the far wall. He tried to stand, but his legs slid on debris.

Where the cell door had been, stood a gaping hole. The entire door had shattered inward and some of the surrounding wall had been torn away. Through the hole came a nightmare straight out of Dante’s Inferno. It had glowing orange eyes and burnished brass limbs. A ruddy light shone out from its belly where a fire burned behind a blackened grill, and Braxton could feel the heat rolling off it as it stepped into the room. Its hands were covered in splinters from the door, sticking to a layer of bright blood beneath. Braxton didn’t have to guess why the scream had stopped so abruptly.

“It’s a Steam Tok,” Braxton yelled.

“What does it want?” Laurie said. “Isn’t it supposed to be on our side?”

Braxton managed to gain his footing as the monster took another step inside. Hattie had been slammed against the hole in the window when the door exploded and gasped, trying to recover her breath. Braxton seized her around the middle and pulled her back into the room and to the side.

“What are you doing?” Laurie screamed as the Tok took another step.

“It can’t see,” Braxton said. “It’s reacting to the whistle.”

Even as he said it, the whistle sounded again.

The massive Tok belched smoke from a black stack on its back and its lower jaw dropped open.

“Cover your ears!” Braxton shouted.

Hattie had recovered enough to move and covered her ears. Braxton only just managed to get his hands over his ears when the monster emitted a steam-powered roar. It shook the cell and echoed off the walls, then, with no further warning, the Steam Tok raised its fists and battered down the outside wall. It charged, still roaring like the very armies of Hell, lumbering out into the yard.

Hattie yelled something. Braxton knew this by the animated expressions on her face, but his head still rang with the sound of the Steam Tok’s roar. Hattie’s face turned to an exasperated look and she pointed out though the gaping hole.

Braxton got the message and pushed himself to his feet. Hattie darted forward ahead of him and they ran for the fence. As he ran, Braxton looked back and forth since he wouldn’t be able to hear any challenge from a guard. He needn’t have worried. The thick smoke of rifle fire along with the black belching of the Steam Tok obscured them fairly well. To his left he saw someone trying to organize the guards against the axe-wielding Toks. The Toks, despite only being able to walk and flail, had managed to take down about a dozen guards, and Braxton could taste the metallic tang of blood in the air.

Someone grabbed his arm, and he swung around in surprise to find Laurie grinning at him. Braxton clapped him on the shoulder and they ran.

When they reached the fence Hattie had the pliers out, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t grab the wire. Laurie took the pliers from her and deftly snipped the three lowest levels of wire.

Hattie gave him a dirty look when he handed the pliers back, then she ducked down and scrambled through. Braxton motioned for Laurie to follow, then went through himself, darting after Hattie as she disappeared into the darkness beyond the fence.

Chapter Fifteen
The Slaughter House

The Castle Thunder Prison had once been a tobacco barn situated on the outskirts of Richmond. It made an ideal prison, being both outside of town, while still close enough to bring prisoners and supplies in by rail. A small wood separated it from the city, which Braxton cursed as he ran headlong through the dark. Unseen branches lashed his face and roots grabbed at his boots, threatening to send him sprawling. Behind him, the sounds of battle faded as the forest closed in around them.

“Stop,” Laurie called out, and Braxton slowed, trotting, gratefully, to a stop.

“What … what is it?” Hattie gasped, leaning down with her hands on her knees. “We can’t stop here.”

“Let me catch my breath,” Laurie said. “I haven’t run like that since I tried to cross old man Harris’ pasture and got the bull after me.”

“Just a minute,” Braxton said, leaning against a convenient tree. “It sounds like they’re still busy with the Toks, but as soon as they get that under control, they’re going to notice the hole in our cell.”

“How … how did you do that?” Laurie demanded, gasping for air.

Hattie had been hanging her head down as she regained her breath, but at Laurie’s accusation, it snapped up.

“Why does he think you did this?” she asked.

Braxton opened his mouth to protest but Laurie cut him off.

“That storeroom you found us in was filled with broken Toks when they first put Braxton in there,” Laurie said. “He admitted he was working on them. In fact, he seemed a bit upset when they were removed to make room for me.”

Braxton felt a pang of guilt at that. He thought he’d covered his distress at Stan’s loss better than that.

Stan.

He looked back to where the light of a fire could be seen glowing through the trees. There might be time to slip back and find Stan. Stan must have set the Toks loose on the prison, and used the Steam Tok to smash down the wall of his cell.

He had to find a way to get him out.

As soon as the Rebels got control of the prison again, they’d smash every remaining Tok up for scrap. If he remained there, Stan didn’t have a chance.

“Are you even listening to me?” Hattie’s voice cut through his thoughts with the sharp edge of the anger it carried.

“Sorry,” Braxton said. “I was just catching my breath.”

Hattie glared at him. Even in the semidarkness he could see the hard look in her eyes.

“I said, did you, or did you not, have anything to do with those rampaging Toks?”

Anything was a pretty broad term. He thought about revealing Stan and his guesses about who really had set the Toks loose, but even in his own head it sounded crazy.

“No,” he replied. “I played around a bit with the Toks in the storeroom before they moved them, but none of them were in working order.”

Laurie gave him an inexplicably stern look.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, brother?” he asked.

“No,” Braxton said, a bit louder than he intended. “It’s true, I understand a bit about how Toks work, but I’m no expert, and I don’t have magic powers to make them do what I want.”

“All right,” Hattie said, straightening up. “If Braxton says it wasn’t him, then we’ll just thank our anonymous benefactor and go on.” She turned and began making her way through the forest again, this time at a quick trot.

“Where are we going?” Braxton asked, grateful for the change of subject. He didn’t understand why Hattie and Laurie were so intent that he be the one who’d set the Toks loose. Hattie didn’t seem to trust anyone, the by-product of being a spy no doubt, but that didn’t explain Laurie. He acted as if Braxton had done something and was hiding it from him. Laurie had been the best man at his wedding. He’d been there when Sarah died. How could he think Braxton would lie to him? He hadn’t told him the whole truth, of course, but he had been completely honest that he did not set the Toks lose.

Stan needs a chance. I hope he escaped.

“I have a contact in town,” Hattie said, answering Braxton’s question. “She’s part of the Underground Railroad, helping escaped slaves reach the North. She’ll provide us with food and a change of clothing.”

“What then?” Laurie asked.

“Hush,” Hattie said. “We’re coming to the city. No more talking. Follow my lead and stay out of sight. If anyone stops us, let me handle them.”

Braxton shivered as he remembered the ease with which Hattie had brandished her slim dagger. He wondered just how she planned to “handle” anyone who stopped them.

They broke through the trees into the back yard of a little brick home. A well-manicured garden ran inside a neat fence of pickets while a goat chewed absently on the grass just beyond its pen. The windows were dark and no smoke came from the chimney. Likely the inhabitants were still abed.

“Follow me,” Hattie whispered, then moved off along the line of the fence.

She led them between that house and the next one of similar construction. Beyond the houses, a cobbled street seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. It reminded Braxton of a running river. Green, woody shrubs that had been trimmed tolerably well lined the far side beyond the fence and the cobbles. Oil-burning street lamps stood silent and dark, their light long ago put out to conserve precious fuel. A row of industrial buildings occupied the land beyond the hedge and ran off to the right ending in what must have been a blacksmith by the smell of it. To the left, the neat houses continued away into the dark. Somewhere beyond the limit of vision, a cart rattled along the cobblestones, bound to some unknown purpose.

Hattie cursed something that Braxton was glad he couldn’t hear and stopped until the sound died away. Ever since this whole mess started, Braxton had taken to swearing much more than he used to. His mother would surely object. Hattie, it seemed, swore as well as any man, and better than some. Braxton’s mother definitely would not approve of such behavior. He resolved to watch his language. It wasn’t much as resolutions went, but it made him feel a bit more in control of events instead of being dragged from place to place.

Hattie reached out and grabbed his arm. “Pay attention,” she said, then released him and darted across the street.

Struggling not to break his newly born resolution, Braxton followed.

Over the next hour, Hattie led them through darkened streets, pastoral yards, and garbage-strewn alleys. Finally, after Braxton was so thoroughly turned around he wouldn’t have known north without the pole star, Hattie stopped. A large house with a plantation porch and Doric columns rose majestically over trimmed shrubs and rose bushes that gave way to manicured grounds. A low stone wall ran along the walk facing the street and an iron gate stood to one side. The latticework gates were open and so choked with flowering vines that they must never have been closed

Hattie slipped through the opening with all the sound and poise of a cat, leaving Braxton and Laurie to tromp after her. She left the walk that led to the porch and slunk around the side of the house. A servant’s door stood there with a darkened lantern hanging over it and a round, brass knocker in its center. Hattie ignored it. Selecting a rock from a nearby planter, she tapped, rhythmically, on the drainpipe that hung down next to the door. After a moment, she repeated the signal, then stood back, returning her rock to the planter.

Braxton doubted anyone in the house had heard the tiny noise of the tapping but he decided not to risk more of Hattie’s displeasure by pointing that out. After a long moment, a small hatch in the door opened on a dark room beyond and a pair of eyes peered out.

“Who comes calling at this hour?” a hoarse voice demanded.

“A seeker of solace looking for a friend,” Hattie responded.

The hatch closed and the sound of a bolt being pulled back reached them from beyond the heavy door. A moment later it creaked open.

Without any hesitation, Hattie stepped in. Laurie cast Braxton a quizzical look, but Braxton had followed Hattie this far, so he shrugged and stepped inside. As soon as Laurie followed, the door shut, and the room fell into complete darkness. Braxton heard a heavy bolt slide into place, then the room was silent. A moment later a match struck and a lantern flared to life. Braxton had to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness and, when he could see again, he found himself in a small, stone-walled room, not unlike the cell he’d just left. A hallway ran off one side of the room, further into the house, and there was a trap door in the floor, no doubt going down to a root cellar. In the center of the room, just behind where the lantern hung from the ceiling, stood an old Negro with white hair and a shotgun.

“And just who have we here?” he asked. He held the gun slightly down but Braxton had no doubt that he could raise and fire it at a moment’s notice. In a room this small, he wouldn’t have much chance to miss.

“It’s me, Jeremiah,” Hattie said, stepping in front of Braxton.

“Miss Hattie,” he said, his brown face splitting into a smile full of white teeth. “I said you’d be back one day. Who are your friends?”

“This is Colonel Braxton Wright and Doctor Lawrence Hancock of the Union Army,” Hattie said, introducing them in turn. “Is Annie up?”

“At this hour?” Jeremiah scoffed. “Everyone’s in bed.”

“Not quite,” a woman’s voice came from the hall. A moment later a blonde woman of middle years entered accompanied by a young Negro woman. Both wore dressing gowns and nightcaps.

“Annie,” Hattie said, throwing her arms around the blonde woman.

“It’s good to have you back,” Annie said. “I’d heard you’d been captured.”

Hattie nodded.

“I was,” she said. “Till quite recently I was your neighbor in Castle Thunder. Just got out.”

“With two Federal officers no less,” Annie said. “I admire your taste.”

“Braxton, Laurie, this is Annie Slaughter,” Hattie said, then presented them to Annie.

“It’s been some time since I’ve had members of the Federal Army under my roof,” Annie said. “I’m sure Hattie has told you that my home is a sanctuary. I would ask that you respect that. I don’t care what your political opinions are, so long as you keep them to yourselves and be polite.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Braxton and Laurie said, together.

“Such nice boys,” Annie said with a smile. “Are you sure you can’t spare one?”

Hattie chuckled in a manner Braxton found most unladylike, and Laurie actually blushed.

“Am I to assume that your presence here means that Castle Thunder is missing a few of its residents?” Annie asked.

Hattie nodded.

“Well, let’s get you lot bedded down then,” Annie said. “It’ll be a week or two before they stop searching.”

“No time for that,” Hattie said. “We need a change of clothes and train fare.”

“They’ll be watching the train station,” Jeremiah said. “Every passenger will be scrutinized.”

Braxton shifted his gaze to Jeremiah. He looked like a house slave, but he spoke like an educated man. Braxton didn’t quite know what to make of him.

“Only the ones going north,” Hattie said. “We’re bound for Raleigh.”

“I thought we were going to Morehead City,” Braxton said.

Hattie fixed him with a steady look.

“We are,” she said in a voice one might use when explaining something to a child or an idiot. “I have to pick up something in Raleigh first. I told Annie that because we need enough money to get us there. In the future, please refrain from mentioning our destination to anyone. Just knowing that could put Annie and her entire household at risk.”

Braxton flushed.

“My apologies to you and your house, Miss Slaughter,” he said. “I’m new to all these games of intrigue.”

The young woman with Annie stifled a giggle.

“You’re quite forgiven, Captain Wright,” Annie said. “These are trying times. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll see about that change of clothes. Hattie, you come with me. Jeremiah, would you get twenty dollars from the strongbox?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Hattie, Annie, and her young attendant left, and Jeremiah hung the shotgun up on some pegs on the wall. That done, he withdrew a heavy ring of keys from his trouser pocket and turned to a secretary desk that stood against the wall. Opening the lid, revealed a heavy iron box with a keyhole in its top.

As Jeremiah fished through the keys on his ring, Braxton wondered at what he saw. Hattie had said that this house was part of the Underground Railroad, yet Jeremiah seemed part of the household. On top of that, he seemed to have total control of the cash box, which would make it easy for him to run any time he wanted.

“If it wouldn’t offend you,” Braxton said as Jeremiah inserted a key into the box, “would you mind if I asked you a question?”

“Why am I here?” Jeremiah guessed.

“Well … yes,” Braxton admitted.

“I am no slave,” he said in a hard voice. “I am a free man. Eliza, my daughter, and I work here for Miss Annie, and she pays me us a wage, just like anyone.”

“If you’re free, why don’t you go north?” Laurie asked. “It can’t be easy for you or your daughter here.”

“That’s true,” he said, as he counted out twenty dollars in Confederate scrip. “But then Miss Annie would be here alone. Her husband was a good man, he taught me my letters and educated me. I learned history, philosophy, and mathematics. He was the one who set me at liberty.”

“What happened to him?” Braxton asked.

“Smallpox,” Jeremiah said. “Now I help Miss Annie. When the war ends, she’s promised to take us all north, but for now, there’s a great deal of work to be done here.”

Jeremiah passed the money over to Laurie, who tucked it in his pocket.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, it will be dawn in an hour or so. I’ll see about something for you to eat on your journey.”

As he started to turn, Braxton held out his hand. He’d never met a Negro before, much less shaken hands with one, but he reckoned it would be just like anyone else. After a moment’s hesitation, Jeremiah took the offered hand.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Jeremiah,” he said.

Laurie shook his hand as well. A moment later, Eliza returned bearing some neatly folded clothing.

“These ought to fit you,” she said, putting them down on the still-open secretary. Go ahead and get changed, then come down to the kitchen. It’s just along the hall.”