Tin Swift

“Have you been around so many to test this theory of yours?” Rose asked sweetly. “Would you say dozens? Hundreds of women?”

Hink chuckled. “Oh, this is a conversation we are not about to undertake. So, never you mind, Rose Small. Go back to sleep. I’m sorry—”

“I’d love to see it,” Rose said. “The sunrise. The ship. Help me up?”

“Be happy to.” Hink stood, grunting a little from his own aches, then helped her up.

She wrapped the blankets tight around her and Hink wrapped his good arm firmly around her waist.

Walking was a little easier. No, everything was easier, including breathing. Being rid of the Holder made Rose feel like she was really well again.

They stepped outside into the still and silent pre-morning light.

There was something about the quiet of the day that she wanted to savor, the held breath of something new about to begin.

Captain Hink must have felt it too. He didn’t say anything as they followed the trail out to the field where the airships had been towed and anchored. The strange blocky shape of the Madders’ top-like ship took up more room than the Swift, and it at least appeared whole.

The Swift was a mess. Her envelope had been deflated, and now lay on the field like a blanket of tin that had been gently wrapped into a roll. The living space of the ship was missing part of the back end, and the glim trawling arms were both broken down to nubs.

She looked like a ship that had been torn apart by the seas and wrecked upon rocky shores.

A golden dragonfly buzzed down to land above the door to the ship, its wings like chips of crystal. The dragonfly looked almost like it was clockwork, but Rose was too far away to see it properly. And just before she got close enough, the dragonfly flew off, its wings ticking through the sky.

“The Swift served us well,” Captain Hink said, drawing Rose from her thoughts.

“She did, poor thing,” Rose said as they came up close enough to touch her. “She’s been through a lot.”

“She’ll fly again,” Captain Hink said. “Can’t keep a girl like her out of the sky.” He opened the door, and helped Rose step up into the ship.

Captain Hink stepped in behind her, blocking her escape, not that she wanted to escape. He took a deep breath and when he exhaled, his broad shoulders relaxed.

“What are you smiling about, Captain?” Rose asked.

He gestured for her to walk with him to the front of the ship, where there were two chairs, and a wide expanse of windows facing east.

“Pretty morning, pretty ship, pretty woman—why wouldn’t I be smiling, Miss Small?”

“Look who’s recovered his charm.” Rose sat and Hink dropped down in the other chair.

“Just needed to get out under the sky,” he said, “to clear my head.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rose said as the brush of lavender light washed the sky, framed by the brass and tin and wood of the Swift’s controls near the windows.

“It is. And out here, on the ship, it’s like I can breathe again.”

“You don’t like being tied to the ground, do you, Captain?”

“It’s never done me much good. And I thought you were going to call me Lee.”

“Paisley.”

He sighed. “You really going to keep at that?”

“Is it really your first name?”

“I could lie to you.”

“I’d find out.”

He paused, then, “She didn’t know the name of one of her suitors. My mother. One of the men who might have been my father. But she was sweet on him. See, he’d bought her the prettiest thing she’d ever owned. A paisley dress.” He stared out at the sky, as if he could still see his mother and her dress. “She thought it fine enough to remember him by. To name me by. It is my first name.”

Rose turned and looked at him. He had a good profile, strong, wide features, and a mouth that couldn’t seem to stay away from a smile for long. Even the bandage and scar beneath his yellow bangs gave him a little something, an aura of danger and adventure.

Just the look of him made her heart pound faster, and when he rankled under her teasing, she thought she’d melt away from the pleasure of it.

“You know she bound me to the ship, don’t you?” he asked. “Your friend Mae?”

“Yes,” Rose said. “I’m sure she can break that now. Here, with the…others helping her.”

“I’m sure she can,” he said. “But I’ve asked her not to.”

“What? When? Why?”

“Yesterday before she took care of you and the Holder. And as for why”—he turned to look at her—“I can see when I’m on the Swift. Like I still have two eyes. Better than that. Being a part of the Swift, tied to her like this, means I can still fly her. Means I still have wings.”

“But I thought when the ship is damaged, it harms you too.”

“Contrary to the last few weeks you’ve known me,” Hink said, “I do not make it a habit to crash my ship at every chance.”

“You want to stay this way? All tied up and such?”

“For as long as it lasts. Mae isn’t sure how long that will be. Said it could be years, or days. I’ll take what I can get, as long as I can get it with the Swift.”

“So I suppose you’ll be leaving, then?” Rose asked.

“As soon as I can patch her up and catch a fair wind, which isn’t looking likely until spring, but yes. I’ll be burning sky the first chance I get.”

“And your crew?”

“They’re happy enough to stay here or in town so long as the wine and food hold out. Lazy nits. Figure they’ll fly with me when I leave.”

“Well,” Rose said, her throat tight with a sadness she had not expected. “I wish you all the best with that, Captain.”

Hink frowned. “You’re going with me, Rose.”

“What? Is that what you’ve decided?” Okay, now she was getting angry. Sure, she liked him, maybe was more than a little infatuated with him. But he couldn’t just assume she was going to do anything he told her to do.

“No, it’s what I’m asking you. I did ask you, didn’t I?” His eye went wide, then he closed it. “No. I didn’t. I practiced it so many times in my head, I meant to, it’s just…” He opened his eye and spread his hand.

“Let me try this again. Proper. Rose Small, would you fly with me?”

Rose had always thought a marriage proposal would be the sweetest words she ever heard from a man. She was wrong. Every inch of her wanted to say yes. But she was a practical woman. She wasn’t going to jump on a ship because some handsome pirate lawman airship captain sweet-talked her into it.

“And do what, Captain? Be your concubine?”

“Well, I was going to offer you to be my boilerman,” he drawled, “but I could go with concubine if that’s the job you’d rather take on.”

“Boilerman?” Rose sat up straight and didn’t even care that her blanket slid down off her shoulder, baring an awful lot of her skin.

Hink, however, seemed quite appreciative of the view.

“Since Molly is…gone,” he said, trying his best not to stare at her chest, “I need someone who knows how to devise and keep the Swift running. The Madder brothers bragged you up as some kind of natural with wood and steam and gear, and Molly herself told me you were of fine Gregor teaching. I figured I’d give you a run at the sky. If you want it.”

“Oh, I do,” she said. “I do!” She reached over and before she had the sense to think it through, she kissed him.

Full on the mouth.

She froze, uncertain as to whether to go forward, or try to back out of this situation gracefully.