Captain Gravenor’s Airship Equinox (Steampunk Smugglers) by Heather Hiestand Read Free Book Online

to break a fall if someone was able to cut through the
bars.”
    “I doubt they’d be stupid enough to give us any kind of
sharpened blade.”
    “I could say I need a diamond to run the brass hand,” she
mused.
    “I think my first idea is best.” He sketched the basement
outline in the dirt, as best as he could remember, then pointed to a spot. “I
believe we’d only be a couple of feet underground here, but there are bushes.”
    “Not too much work, if I can build the shovel.”
    “Still, I’d rather you just build me a hand and be done with
it.”
    “So I can electrocute you? I believe Captain Red Kite would
let me, to try to figure out how it’s being done.”
    “We’ll have to ask for an eyewitness account. Surely the
Brass Hands don’t die the first time they receive a shock. It’s meant as a
deterrent.”
    She scrunched her forehead. “I believe you are correct. I
think I heard Ethan Everard, my cousin and first officer of the
Defender
,
sniggering about how they made the men dance.”
    “How good is your memory?” he asked, only half-joking.
    “I won’t hurt you, at least not if you plan to help me get
out of here.”
    She was a lady with self-interest in mind, no doubt about
that. Even if he was not quite decided, he’d have to ensure she thought he
would act for her in the end. He nodded calmly, as if offering agreement.
    The iron-barred wood door to the cage room slammed against
the stone wall as the twins reappeared, toting a bucket that splashed water, a
bag of plaster, and a sheath of papers. One of them opened the bars and shoved
in the materials, followed by pencils and a pewter plate.
    “I’ll need a knife to sharpen the pencils. Also a straight
edge of some sort,” Brecon said.
    “The pencils are sharp. Call for us when you break the lead.
Someone will always be outside the door.”
    “And the windows,” the other promised. As if on command,
Brecon caught sight of a guard peering through the window, his pimple-covered
snout glistening with the grease of his unwashed skin.
    “I’m so glad we’ll have aid whenever we require,” Brecon
allowed.
    The twins laughed in nasty harmony.
    “What about the plaster? I need a cutting tool to make
alternations to my cast.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m not going to make Mr. Gravenor two right hands.”
    “Just sculpt it,” suggested One, showing surprising knowledge.
“Then make a mold from your sculpture. You have all the time in the world.”
    The other twin smirked again then they both walked out,
hands on their heaters as if entering battle.
    “What a couple of limp-wristed Mary-Anns,” Brecon muttered.
    Philadelphia raised an eyebrow. “It is a good thing I
received an excellent education in art. You can lie down on the cot with your
hand facing me. I shall do my best with the limited tools.”
    He complied while she used one of their teacups and a
porridge spoon to mix the plaster into a lump that she dropped onto the pewter
plate. She began to mold a basic hand, using her fingers against his to check
measurements.
    “How are you going to make it into a mold?”
    “They’ll have to find a different kind of plaster. There is
more than one. This should set in an hour or two. We’ll let the blacksmith
figure out the rest.”
    Brecon yawned, his night of rough sleep catching up with
him. He didn’t want to waste daylight, since there were no gas lamps down here
and he doubted they’d be graced with candles. Instead, he forced himself to
think of other ways in which he could have evaded the Blockader airship with
his aircraft. He hadn’t wanted to lead them to the Red Kite stronghold. He
should have thought to touch down somewhere the free traders never used. But,
they were about ten miles from where he’d grown up, and he’d never spent time
around here. He only knew the places the free traders used. When he got out of
the cage, he’d have to learn the area better, assuming he stayed in the
captain’s employ.
    After he was done