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Authors: Jordan Elizabeth

Cogling (31 page)

BOOK: Cogling
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You must listen, I do bid.

imey woke the group at dawn.

Edna’s arms ached to pull him back when Harrison crawled off the bunk and rubbed crusts from the corners of his eyes. Rachel straightened her clothes and Ike ran his fingers through his hair. They ate a breakfast of sliced beets in vinegar, with glasses of tea, which consisted of boiled water with parsley flakes. Edna shoveled the food into her mouth, gulping without chewing. The vinegar left a sharp tang on her tongue, but the tea calmed her belly. Real beets and parsley, grown in a garden instead of a factory.

“Eat up, Harry,” she whispered when her brother poked at his beets. “We need the energy.”

“This is commoner food,” Rachel muttered, but she finished her bowl and gulped the weak tea. “May I have more?”

Nimey brought basins of clean water so they could wash their hands and faces. Filth discolored the liquid within seconds. Despite her matted hair and grimy clothes, Edna actually felt clean. She gripped Harrison’s hand as the group left the village, accompanied by Nimey and Carthy as far as the tomtar boundaries allowed.

Tall trees shaded the path. Each snap in the distance made Edna jump. She watched the shadows shifting through the underbrush, expecting a mechanical wolf, but a only black squirrel scampered up a maple tree.

They walked for an hour before Edna called a rest. They didn’t have time to waste, but Harrison looked pale and his legs wobbled. “My brother needs to take a break before he collapses.”

Sunlight splashed through the canopy above, between branches woven together and trees grown close. They’d reentered the forest, and the temperature had dropped ten degrees. The sweat on Edna’s skin cooled, making her shiver.

Rachel ceased complaining about the aches in her legs as she collapsed in the roadside’s shallow ditch. Edna sat beside her. Weeds stabbed through her threadbare clothes to prick her skin, but she hadn’t the energy to move. A sweet scent tickled her nose; a wild flower she’d never smelled before.

“You think we’ll find water soon?” Harrison asked.

“There’s bound to be some streams through here.” Ike plucked a green plant from the base of a maple and ate the leaf.

“It looks like the mint in the Waxman garden,” Edna said.

Rachel wrinkled her nose. “I don’t drink from streams.”

“You will if you want water,” Edna snapped. “What’s it matter if the stream’s polluted when we’re this thirsty? Water’s water.”

Ike ate another leaf. “Want one?”

“If it’s safe.” Edna held out her hand. When he plucked a new plant and gave it to her, she bit into the leaf. The supple vegetation melted against her tongue with a stringy residue. She smiled. “No metal flavor.”

“Listen,” Harrison said when Ike handed him one of the plants. “You hear that?”

They froze. Edna peered along the trail. Something clattered against dirt. Mechanical wolves? Attacking villagers?

“Let’s go.” Edna staggered up. Ike grabbed her skirt. “We’ll wait to see who comes. This is a main road from that village. We might hitch a ride.”

Edna licked her lips. Although her instincts screamed to run, she sat again, tucking her legs against her chest. “A ride would save us time.”

They waited in silence before a steam-powered wagon rolled into view. Edna nibbled her fingernail. Ike might’ve been right after all. He stood in the road with his hand raised.

The driver slowed his vehicle to a stop. “Can I help?”

“We’re headin’ t’ Moser City,” Ike drawled in a country twang.

“On foot to Moser?” The man tipped his pink top hat to Edna and Rachel.

Edna tugged Harrison up. “Remember, Mum says manners help life along.” When she curtsied, he bowed.

“Aye. We ran across some trouble. Can we hitch a ride with ya?” Ike asked.

The man looked them over. Edna stared back. He wore gray pants with leather patches in the knees and a black tweed coat. His top hat had a lantern attached to the front, with a wire leading down to his leather collar.

“I’m heading that way,” he drawled. “Off to sell my wares. Get in the back.”

“Thanks,” Edna began, but the driver held up two fingers.

“For a fee.” He grinned. “I can give you a ride, but it don’t mean I will.”

Edna gulped. “We don’t have any money.” The most wealth they had was the cogling evidence. They couldn’t surrender that.

“I’ve got this.” Rachel stepped forward, pulling a simple gold band ring off her finger. She held it out to the farmer and curtsied. “Its all we’ve got, but if it’ll help, its yours.”

“Then you’re all set.” He snatched the ring and dropped it into his coat pocket.

“Where’d you get that?” Edna whispered.

“The hags left it for me.” Rachel rubbed her finger where it had been. “I have more at home. It isn’t important.”

Edna led Harrison to the back of the wagon. Ike and Rachel followed, and he unlatched the cargo hold for them. The inside contained crates of chickens, baskets of carvings, and barrels of furs.

“Disgusting,” Rachel hissed. Then she gasped as Ike seized her around the waist and swung her into the wagon. He grabbed Edna next, but when he reached for Harrison, the boy climbed up himself.

“Doncha break stuff,” the driver called.

“We won’t,” Ike promised.

He couldn’t shut the door since there wouldn’t be enough room for them amongst the supplies, so they sat on the edge with their legs dangling off. Edna leaned against Ike, Harrison on her other side, and Rachel on the opposite end.

Rachel clasped the door. “Horrible.”

“At least we don’t have to walk,” Harrison said.

“You think we can trust the driver?” Edna whispered to Ike.

He shrugged, his brows lowered. She rubbed the cameo. If she could figure out how to use the magic, she could keep them safe.

You will be safe if you believe.

he wagon arrived at the city limits in the dark of night, at the meatpacking district, where three-story brick buildings rose alongside the road. Black windows glowered, most likely hiding scenes of death and pools of blood. Edna rubbed her hands against the goose bumps on her arms.

The vehicle’s gears squealed to a halt and the occupants jerked forward, their legs swaying where they hung over the back. Rachel squawked as she jolted awake.

Edna squeezed Harrison’s hand tighter. “After everything, we can go home. We’re finally back in our city.”

“His driving leaves me in awe,” Rachel muttered.

Edna stiffened, wondering if the man would take offense at Rachel’s sarcasm. He’d been kind to them; he deserved respect.

The farmer took his brass pocket watch from his vest. “Just after eleven o’clock. I’m early.” His shoulders stiffened, as if the atmosphere bothered his nerves.

The stench of rot lingered in the thick air. Fog clung to the deserted dirt streets and wove around the few gas lamps lining the cobblestone sidewalks. Smoke curled from the chimneys of the red buildings.

“What do you do now?” Ike asked the farmer. Edna envied her companion’s even tone of voice. She’d never been in the meatpacking district before, although she knew her parents visited at the holidays for slabs of beef. Her mind conjured images of dead animals left bleeding within the tall buildings. Perhaps there were others still alive, left mewling for help in cages or closets. She pictured the foxkins trapped by the hags and shuddered, the evil taking note. Ike rested his hand on her shoulder.

“There’s a boardin’ house for people like me,” the farmer said. “Plenty of ‘em, really. I’ll stay at one o’ them.”

“Boarding houses for farmers?” Rachel scoffed. “Boarding houses are filthy to begin with—”

Edna pinched her arm.

Rachel squeaked and jumped, rubbing the spot.

“Boarding houses for travelers sellin’ their wares,” the farmer said, as if Rachel hadn’t insulted his lifestyle. “Keep my stuff safe in a locked barn ‘till I can sell it off come morning. I sell it to shops an’ the like.”

Ike bounded off the back of the wagon. “Thanks for the ride, sir.”

“We’re indebted.” Edna leapt off and tried to help Harrison, but he pushed her hand away and jumped down by himself.

In the glow of the street lamps, Rachel scanned the buildings and wrinkled her nose. Groaning, Ike grabbed her around the waist and swung her down. She glared at him, stomping her foot.

BOOK: Cogling
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