Burke shrugged. 'At least I don't need to worry about Ragnar's Mighty Men commandeering this. I don't think Stonewall could squeeze through the hatch.'
As he said this, a chill winter wind swept across the room. The sliding door to the warehouse shuddered on its tracks. Burke looked up and found Stonewall standing in the doorway, glaring at him. To his left stood Ragnar, with his twin scimitars held loosely in his hands; a half dozen armored Mighty Men lurked behind him. To Stonewall's right stood Frost, grinning like it was his birthday.
'Burke,' said Ragnar, in a voice that was oddly calm and controlled. 'We should discuss what happened at the well.'
Burke crossed his arms as he leaned back against the Angry Beetle.
'I agree,' said Burke. 'That was quite a show. I'm still trying to make up my mind as to precisely what it was that happened. How did Shanna get through the blockade? How did she get to the well if your men didn't let her in? Shanna's been a spy for years. She's a good actor. And, the more I think about it, if you faked her death, tossing her into the well was a good way of keeping anyone from seeing her get up and walk away once the performance was done. What I haven't figured out yet is, what are you up to? What are you trying to prove?'
'You have lived a life of lies so long you cannot see the truth,' said Ragnar. 'I would never deceive my followers with base theatrics.'
'If it wasn't staged, that's even worse. Shanna helped us win Dragon Forge. You killed her like she was a dog.'
'A mad dog,' said Ragnar, still calm. 'It was clear from her words that she'd been corrupted by the worship of a false god.'
'Or hallucinating from those dragonseeds, whatever they are. You should have jailed her and let her sober up. We'll never know what really happened to her now.'
'You're quick to criticize my decisions,' said Ragnar. 'Your open defiance in front of the crowd was intolerable.'
'You'll have to tolerate my criticism a bit longer,' said Burke. 'You need me if you're ever going to break the blockade and spread this rebellion further.'
'Do I?' asked Ragnar. 'The Lord has given me an army. We now have the sky-wall bows. We have shotguns and cannons. I believe your usefulness draws to an end.'
'Without gunpowder, all you have are a bunch of iron tubes,' said Burke, crossing his arms. 'I'm the only one who knows the formula.'
Ragnar smiled, an expression that made Burke's blood turn cold.
Frost said, 'I noticed that Biscuit was capable of mixing up gunpowder while you were recovering from your surgery.'
Burke's jaw tightened. 'Biscuit's a good man, but he's no chemist,' he said, carefully controlling his tone.
Frost held up a scrap of paper that Burke instantly recognized. It was the formula for gunpowder. 'I spoke to Biscuit earlier today. He found my arguments… persuasive. He has reaffirmed his loyalty to the cause.'
Burke clenched his jaw. He looked away from Ragnar and his Mighty Men, shoved his iron crutch back into his armpit, and hobbled to the stove. 'So what now?'
'Now we assemble the men at dawn,' said Frost. 'You repent your sins and swear your obedience to the Lord and his prophet. Or we behead you in front of the crowd as a reminder that no single man is greater than the cause.'
Stonewall furrowed his brow at the mention of the beheading.
Frost grinned like this was the happiest moment of his life.
Burke picked up a tin cup sitting at the edge of the stove. He poured himself a cup of goom.
Ragnar and his Mighty Men were ten feet away. The Angry Beetle was close enough to touch. He contemplated his choices. He could avoid violence just by standing in front of the crowd, saying a few words he didn't believe, and then going back to work.
He shook his head. 'If you're planning to kill me, I'd rather not wait for dawn.'
It was Stonewall, not Frost, who stepped forward. His big beefy hands reached for Burke's shoulders, as he said, 'Sir, if you'll come with us, I promise to-'
Burke flung the goom into Stonewall's face.
The tall man staggered backwards, hissing in pain. Goom in the mouth was bad enough; Goom in the eyes was crippling. Frost tried to get out of the way of the stumbling giant, but crashed into the Mighty Man behind him. Stonewall tripped over Frost, and as he fell he toppled the rest of Ragnar's thugs.
Ragnar, however, had been spared from the flailing of his henchmen. Burke was getting tired of the seemingly divine hand that spared the prophet from misfortune. Ragnar brandished his scimitars and leapt toward Burke with a growl, apparently agreeing that dawn was too long to wait for Burke's beheading.
Burke grabbed the iron handle of the chili pot and swung it with a grunt. The cast iron connected solidly with the side of the prophet's shaggy head. The force of the blow knocked the scimitars from Ragnar's grasp. Hot, thick chili splashed down Ragnar's bare body, matting his chest hair. The prophet's eyes grew large. A very unholy word formed on his lips.
Burke didn't wait to hear it. With the heavy pot still in his hands, he swung upward, catching the big man under his hairy chin, knocking him from his feet.
'Get in the Beetle!' Burke screamed.
Thorny was already two steps ahead of him. His scrawny legs disappeared into the shadowy interior of the war machine. Burke turned to grab Vance by the wrist, but Vance, too, was already moving, diving into the interior. For a third time since they'd come to the warehouse, Burke suspected the boy could see more than he let on. But, why would Vance lie about such a thing?
Burke threw his crutch in and rolled into the Beetle, hitting the catch that held the metal hatch open. He pulled his leg in as the hatch slammed shut. Seconds later, loud bangs shook the Beetle as the Mighty Men who'd regained their footing began to hack the war machine with their swords.
Burke sat up, grabbing Vance by the wrist. 'You're going to have to shovel coal,' he said. 'Let me put your hand on the-'
'I can see,' said Vance.
'What?'
'I can see! My sight's not fully back yet, but it's getting there. I only see blurry colors out past a few yards, but up close I see pretty good.'
'So… you've been faking?' Burke asked.
'No! My sight's just started coming back in the last little bit.'
Thorny scratched his scraggly beard. 'I've heard of men going blind after they drink goom. Maybe it works the other way around, too.'
'I'm pretty sure it's because of the dragonseed,' said Vance.
'What?' asked Burke.
'I swallowed it five minutes after you gave it to me. What did I have to lose?'
'Your life, if it had been poison. Your mind, if it had been a hallucinogen.' Burke frowned. 'How do you know you can really see? Maybe you're just imagining it.'
Vance reached out and put his finger on the tip of Burke's nose.
'The dragonseed worked. My sight's been getting a little better since I took it. First I could just detect light from dark, then shapes started coming back, then colors.'
Burke grimaced. He lived in a world that followed certain rules. Magic seeds were the stuff of fairy tale. They didn't belong in a world of gears and guns. Vance had lost his sight due to a head injury. Sometimes these things got better on their own. The timing must be a coincidence.
The hull shuddered violently.
'I'm guessing they found the sledgehammer,' said Burke as the ringing in his ears abated. 'Here's the ten- second guide to running this thing. This is the boiler.' He opened the iron door next to Vance. A small red flame still flickered inside. 'Shovel coal. There's a foot operated bellows. Pump as if your life depends on it. We need a lot of heat to build up steam.'
Burke checked the gauges. There was still a little pressure left over from this morning, but nothing like what they'd need to escape.
