Volume Six
Tempest in
a Teapot
Chapter
One
Trouble
Brewing
In which Dodger demands answers
Feng said
nothing more on the short return trip, either saving his breath for the effort
it took to pedal the three of them back to the line or, most likely, avoiding
the elephant in the Rhino. There was no more talk about Boon, or the looming
storm clouds, or what was on its way. Lelanea was also suspiciously quiet on
the subject of Boon. Dodger reckoned that if he had gotten such news about his
presumably deceased lover, he would’ve been spilling over with questions. But
the young woman kept her lips sealed and her eyes on the approaching
thunderstorm. Dodger was busting with questions of his own, yet in light of the
others’ silence, he thought it best to keep his mouth shut.
Speaking
of wayward spirits, Boon certainly had gone ahead of them and warned Ched,
because when they returned to the campsite, everything was already packed down.
The Sleipnir roared to life as Feng brought the Rhino to a screeching halt. The
Celestial sprang from the cart and took off in a brisk jog for the meeting cab.
“Wait up!”
Dodger called as he clambered out of the cart.
“No time!”
Feng yelled over his shoulder.
Lelanea
climbed behind the steering wheel of the Rhino without a word to either man,
and set to helping Mr. Torque return the cart to the caboose.
Dodger
caught up with Feng, grabbing the man by the elbow before he could reach the
cab, bringing them both to a halt. “What is going on?”
“Please,
Dodger,” Feng said. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Who is
coming?”
“You don’t
want to know.” He pulled away and climbed into the cab.
Dodger
followed him aboard. “Feng. Who is coming?”
Feng
paused, drawing a deep breath and considering his words a moment. “Enemies.
Very old and very angry.”
“All
right, then. You need to tell me who they are so we can fight them.”
“No. I
know how to deal with them. You don’t need to get involved.”
Dodger
recognized the tone of that explanation, because had heard it before. “You’re
just gonna run off?”
“I have to
go.”
“You can’t
leave now.” Dodger moved in closer and lowered his voice as he added, “Not
after all that stuff about you-know-who not being you-know-what.”
“Right,
right. I do need to talk to you about that. Briefly. There are things you need
to know. Important things about Boon. About you.” Feng sat at the professor’s
desk, took up a pen and began scribbling notes.
“Where is
he, anyway?”
“Boon? I
sent him ahead to scout for-” Feng caught himself mid-confession and
reconsidered his words. “He’ll be back later. Right now, we need to talk.”
“We can
talk after we deal with whatever problem you’ve conjured up.”
Feng let
out a nervous giggle as he returned to his scribbling. “Conjured up. Oh, that’s
good.”
“I
appreciate your sense of humor, but I’m being serious. If you have enemies
coming, then stay here, and we can fight them together.”
The man
looked up from his notes. “The longer I stay, the more danger I put you in.
Can’t you see that?”
“I see a
friend in need,” the doc said.
Dodger and
Feng both turned to find the doc standing in the doorway at the far end of the
cab.
“And a
friend in need is a friend indeed,” the doc said. “Or some such nonsense. I
never understood that adage. Do you? Why would a friend in need be more of a
friend than one who doesn’t need anything at all? It seems to me that a friend
who isn’t begging for assistance is better equipped-”
“Hieronymus,”
Feng said over the professor’s chatter. “Please don’t. Not now. You know how
grave this is.”
The doc
nodded. “I know that you’ve been running a long, long time. And I know you’ve
put yourself in harm’s way to help us, to help me, more than a few times. And
for that, we owe you our help and protection.”
The breeze
shifted to a gusty wind, rocking the cab just a bit as lightning flashed and
thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Thanks,
but no thanks,” Feng said. “I won’t put you in the line of fire. You’re too
important. All of you.”
“And
you’re too stubborn,” the doc said as he stepped into the meeting cab. “But it
doesn’t matter, because you can’t leave.”
“I have to
go.”
“You
can’t.”
“I don’t
have a choice this time. I have to.”
“No, you
don’t understand. I’m not saying I won’t let you. I’m saying you can’t. I’ve
already stopped you.” The doc patted his vest pocket, that mischievous grin
spreading wide.
All at
once, Feng looked his age. His face fell into a mask of despair as he eyed the
doc’s pocket, then looked out of the window, into the rolling blackness. “You
don’t know what danger you’re putting yourselves in. None of you.”
“Then tell
us,” Dodger said. “Help us prepare.”
Feng
leaped to his feet and grabbed Dodger by the shoulders, staring into his eyes
with a look of wild abandon. “You have to let me go. You’re all going to die if
I stay here.”
Dodger did
his best to hold Feng’s gaze—not an easy task. It wasn’t that he was opposed to
looking a man in the eye when speaking to him. No. It was this particular man’s
eyes that made the task so difficult. Dodger always thought of himself as a
fellow who had seen too much. Now he knew better. The madness that shone from
the old man’s eyes at that unguarded moment screamed and howled with an
immeasurable amount of fear.
Feng
wasn’t just scared.
He was
downright terrified.
Dodger
didn’t know what Feng had seen, but he was glad he hadn’t seen it himself.
Yet.
“I was
hired to protect this line and her crew,” Dodger said. “That means I was hired
to protect you too, Mr. Feng. Now, I don’t know what trouble you’ve gotten
yourself into, and quite frankly, I don’t think I really want to know. I only
know one thing. I am here to do a job, and I intend to do it. Whether you like
it or not.”
Feng
continued to stare down Dodger for a few more seconds, as if weighing Dodger’s
words, or formulating his own comeback.
“You can’t
leave,” Lelanea said from Dodger’s left.
How did
she always sneak up on him like that?
“Not you
too,” Feng said. “You of all people should know better.”
“You can’t
leave,” she repeated, “until you give me an explanation. You owe me that much.”
“An
explanation of what?” the doc asked.
“There’s
no time,” Feng said. “You have to get this line in motion and get the hell out
of here. You’re wasting time standing around talking like this.”
Dodger
looked out of the open cab door to the gathering storm again. “If you think
we’re gonna outrun that storm, you need to think twice.”
“You don’t
have to outrun it. Just let me go, and it will pass you buy.”
“No. We
put the Sleipnir in motion in this kind of storm, and we run the risk of
wrecking her. If there is a brawl coming, then we make our stand here and
fight.”
“There is
no time. If you don’t go now, you’re going to miss him!”
“Mish
who?” Ched asked from the cargo-cab doorway.
“What are
you going on about?” Mr. Torque asked, joining the crew in the now-full cab.
Feng ran
his hands across his tightly bound hair and stared wild eyed at the crew
gathered around him.
“Feng?”
the doc asked. “What is all of this about?”
The
Celestial looked to Dodger, furrowing his brow as if to say, What do I do
now?
Or did
Dodger imagine he heard the old man ask that without parting his lips?
“Go on,
then,” Dodger said, nodding to the doc. “Tell them what you told us.”
“Hieronymus,”
Feng said. “There is a good chance that Washington Boon is alive.”
The doc
gasped and held his pudgy fingers to his open mouth as he plopped onto one of
the couches. “Alive?”
“At the
very least, he is not completely dead.”
“How? I
don’t understand.”
“It’s sort
of hard to explain. I think someone has his body, has been keeping it barely
alive and is holding it captive.”
“Captive?”
Ched asked with a snort. “What shon of a bitch would want an almosht-dead
body-”
“Where is
he?” the doc asked over Ched’s question. The man’s face grew stern with
unplumbed depths of anger.
“Celina,”
Feng said.
At that
single word, Lelanea joined the doc in another gasp as Ched whistled along in a
melodic chorus of surprise.
“How did
you find him?” Dodger asked.
“By
scrying,” Feng said.
Dodger
shook his head. He had gleaned a little about such things from the mountain of
books he had tackled over a lifetime of reading, but wasn’t completely familiar
with the process.
“Simply
put,” Feng said, “I used magic to spy on someone. I should’ve done it ages ago,
but I knew I would open myself up to trouble if I did.”
“And that
is how your enemies found you?” Dodger asked. “You opened yourself up to be
seen by them.”
“Yes, and
they aren’t the only ones. Whoever has Boon’s body saw me too. He knew I was
watching him. Somehow, he could sense me.”
“Who did
you scry on?” Lelanea asked. “Who has Boon?”
“I think
you know him as Commander Rex.”
Which made
all sorts of sense when Dodger stopped to think about it. Who had been a thorn
in the doc’s side since Boon’s demise? Who sent the dog men after the line? Who
set up the robbery at Sunnyvale?
C.R.
Commander
Rex.
That left
about a million questions to answer, with one topping the list.
Why?
“Ched,”
the doc said in the most commanding and serious tone Dodger had ever heard the
man use. “I want inside of that town before sunrise.”
“I don’t
shee how,” Ched said. “We are almosht a full day’sh ride from Cshelina.”
“You heard
me. Just make it happen.”
Ched
sighed. “Even if we open her up, we might make it in a little under twenty
hoursh, but it’sh gonna be a push.”
“Then push
her.”
“We ain’t
got the water for a nonshtop-”
“We can
divert it from the potable tanks,” Lelanea suggested.
“Even
then, it’sh gonna be-” Ched began.
“Must you
always argue with me?” the doc asked.
“Excuse
me,” Dodger said.
The crew
stopped jabbering and looked as one to him.
“Forgive
me for asking this,” he said, “but isn’t Celina where, well, it
happened?”
No one
said anything. They just stared.
“I’m new
here and all,” he said, “but doesn’t it seem like kind of a coincidence that
his body is exactly where you all thought it wasn’t this whole time?”
“I realize
how it looks,” the doc said. “But if there is a remote chance that we can find
Boon, then we have to go.”
“Sir, I
hate to be the one to say this, but it has all the earmarks of a setup. If this
Rex knows so much about the crew, then certainly he knows all about Feng here
and his special talents. Rex must’ve been prepared.”
“We can’t
assume-”
“Dodger is
right,” Feng said. “When I located Rex and was able to see him. He was ready
for me. I don’t know how that son of a gun did it, but he knew I was planning
on scrying on him. In fact, he sent me a message.”
“Message?”
the doc asked. “What kind of message?”
“He held
up a note. It read,” Feng paused as he flicked his gaze to Dodger, then looked
back to the doc. “Bring me Dodger by sunset tomorrow, or Boon dies. Again.”
It was now
Dodger’s turn to gasp or whistle or make any number of surprised noises. Yet he
didn’t. It wasn’t that he wasn’t all sorts of surprised. He sure as heck was!
But still, there was some part of him that half anticipated this. Almost
expected Feng to say those very words. Almost wanted to be the one drawn into
the web.
To be the
fly to Rex’s spider.
The mouse
to his cat.
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