loose, destroy.

The blade struck something in the center of his chest and Cedar jimmied it loose.

It popped free and metal wings, gold and crystal, like a clockwork bee or dragonfly zipped past his face.

Mr. Shunt stilled, stiffened. His eyes were no longer filled with fear. They were filled with hatred. “Die,” he exhaled.

Cedar just kept stabbing, digging, pulling out cog, bone, and flesh.

Until Mr. Shunt suddenly lay into the wind, arms spread wide, head thrown back.

And even though Cedar was holding on to his coat, Mr. Shunt shattered, blowing apart into a thousand oily pieces that sifted like pebbles through his fingers.

Cedar yelled out his rage, wanting Shunt’s blood, wanting to snap every bone in his damn body, wanting to feel him die again and again.

A cannon blast from high above him clapped across the mountains.

Then a thousand whips, no, ropes, flew past him. He heard the fans of the ship roar, as if the vessel were turning hard and fast. Then those ropes were right below him, forming a net with bolos weighting it. A net that pulled open and created a wall between him and the ground rushing up at him.

Cedar hit that net like a man striking stone. The ropes lashed around him, closed tight, and slammed his fall to a stop so quickly he heard his nose break, felt his ribs snap, heard his neck crack. And then he blacked out.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Daylight and the drone of fans woke Cedar from a deep sleep. That, and pain.

“Morning, Mr. Hunt.” Alun Madder leaned forward in the chair, puffing on his pipe.

Cedar tried to moisten his mouth. Didn’t work. “Mae?”

“Sleeping right over there in the cot you set her in. Rose is sleeping too. So are Captain Hink and Joonie Wright. All of them getting along well enough.”

Wil, in wolf form now that it was daylight, lifted his head from where he was lying on the floor beside Cedar. His old copper eyes burned with accusation. There was no blood on him. That was the one good thing about the curse. Injuries healed quickly.

But from Wil’s gaze Cedar knew he’d be spending the night apologizing to his brother for jumping out of the ship.

“I’m thinking those native gods should have given you wings instead of fur, Mr. Hunt, the way you dove into the night. For a second there, I supposed you thought you could fly.”

Cedar pushed up, only made it halfway before his ribs sent hot licks of pain through him. His head felt heavy and his neck hurt. So did every other damn inch of him.

Wil growled.

Cedar lay back down and Wil stopped growling.

“We’re under way?” he asked.

Alun reached into his voluminous overcoat, pulled out a flask and offered it to him. “Bryn’s towing the Swift.”

“Where?” Cedar asked.

Alun nodded to the flask and Cedar took a swig. Moonshine burned like lightning down to the soles of his feet.

He exhaled as the heat spread over his muscles and out to the tip of each finger. He took a second swallow, then handed it back to Alun.

“Kansas. I hear it’s lovely this time of year,” Alun said.

“Thank you,” Cedar said.

“Oh, it is my pleasure, Mr. Hunt. My pleasure.” Alun took a swallow of the hooch, then stood up. “Sleep yourself out. We’ve a while of sky ahead of us.”

Cedar closed his eyes. He didn’t think sleep would claim him, but the constant hum of the fans and the rocking of the Swift sent him down the path soon enough.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Mae sat in the rocking chair near the hearth of the coven’s gathering hall. The familiar smells of her childhood surrounded her. She was home. And it was suddenly the last place she wanted to be.

Miss Adaline, the current matron of the coven, stood near the window with a cup of tea in her hand. “You have exposed us, Mae Rowan.”

“Lindson,” Mae said quietly. “Mrs. Lindson.”

Miss Adaline was a wide woman, with gray hair pulled back tight and up into a bun on her head. She wore a soft shawl the color of wheat over her shoulders, and her modest day dress was deep forest green, seamed to give her figure the best advantage. She was unmarried, and monied by her father’s investments in the wars.

She had been a force in Mae’s life when she was younger. And she had not lost her command in the years that had passed.

Miss Adaline turned. She had the kind of beauty men would turn their heads for, even now at her age. But there was no kindness behind that beauty. Not for Mae.

“You have told outsiders we are witches. You have put our sisterhood in danger.”

Mae waited. She didn’t know what to say. It was true. But she could not change what had happened.

“Before you left the coven, it was suggested we cast you out. We knew you would bring trouble upon us. In these most unsettled times.”

“I meant no harm,” Mae said softly.

“And yet you have caused harm.” Miss Adaline sighed. “It was my voice that raised on your behalf all those years ago. I thought your love of Mr. Lindson would keep you…far from us. And yet you return.”

She made it sound like it was Mae’s fault. Like Mae was some kind of bad penny she could not be rid of.

Mae prickled. “I was not the one who cast the spell to bind me to coven soil. I would not have come of my own volition.”

Miss Adaline took a sip of tea, her brown eyes sharp. “That was sister Virginia’s idea. She always worried you’d be alone and astray in the world. Of course, she thought that of any wild thing.”

Mae stood out of the chair. “I am not a wild thing. You have made it clear I am no longer welcome here. I will leave as soon as my companions are recovered enough to travel. And,” Mae said walking across the room to her elder, “I will break my ties to this coven. But only if the sisters assist me in breaking the curse on Mr. Hunt and his brother, and in healing Rose.”

“We will want something in return.”

Mae literally took half a step back, shocked. “Is that the way of the coven now? Bargaining for your advantage?”

“The war has changed us all, Mae Rowan. Time has changed us all. We adapt, and we survive.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to cast a spell for me.”

Mae shook her head, but just then the front door opened and one of the younger sisters she didn’t know stepped in. “Miss Adaline, the supplies from town have come and there is some mail for you. It looks official.”

Adaline smiled and it seemed that warmth filled up the hard edges of her. “Thank you, Becky. Take it to my room, please. I’ll be there shortly.”

Becky shut the door.

“We will speak later.” Adaline crossed the room to the other door, and left Mae standing with nothing but her doubts and anger.

The sisters had almost killed her trying to bring her home. Yes, she’d agreed to let them bind her blood to the

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