Lincoln's Wizard by Tracy Hickman, Dan Willis Read Free Book Online Page A

there to conduct Braxton out.
    “Good luck, Captain,” President Lincoln said. “I find the beds here in New York a bit short for my frame and I left such a fine one in Washington, not to mention a capitol building half-built. With your help, we may yet walk down Pennsylvania Avenue after a good night’s rest and get that building built.”
    Braxton saluted. “Thank you, Mister President,” he said, then turned and followed the steward back into the hall.
    O O O
    “This way, sir,” the steward said, turning down the left hallway to a small, unadorned door. He opened it, revealing a stairway made of black iron, spiraling upward in the small space. Without pausing, he mounted the tightly turning staircase and climbed, leading Braxton upward to the roof.
    At the top of the stair a sturdy door, bound in iron, blocked their way. The steward slid aside a heavy bolt and pushed it open. Light flooded in on the narrow landing and Braxton had to shield his eyes.
    “I had your gear sent aboard,” the steward said, moving aside so Braxton could step out onto the roof. “You’d better hurry; Sherman isn’t known for his patience.”
    With that the steward stepped back inside and Braxton heard him shut the door and bolt it. A squad of armed soldiers in flawless blues were scattered around the roof, walking patrol with their rifles strapped over their shoulders. A wooden walkway ran out, away from the stair entrance to the center of the roof where a raised platform had been erected.
    The top of the platform held Braxton’s attention. A small boat sat there, with black smoke billowing form a short stack at its back. The smoke rose up and wafted over an enormous bag, easily twice the size of the boat, staining it black along the rear quarter. The bag was attached to the boat by ropes and cables, with brass pipes running up from the boat and disappearing inside.
    He’d seen airships before, but only as tiny man-made clouds soaring overhead. He had never actually been this close to one.
    He stopped and stared, taking it in.
    “Don’t just stand there, boy,” a man in an embroidered coat yelled down from the platform. “I’ve got a schedule to keep.”
    Startled out of his reverie, Braxton broke into a trot and mounted the steps up to the platform. The boat had a panel in its side that had been let down, with steps attached to its inside. He followed the man in the embroidered coat aboard.
    “You’re supposed to ask permission to come aboard,” the man growled, running an appraising eye over Braxton. He was about Braxton’s height with a craggy, weathered face and blue eyes. His hair was short and unkempt and he wore a chin beard without any mustache.
    “I’m sorry, uh, sir,” Braxton said, saluting. “Permission to come aboard, sir?”
    The man returned the salute along with a hard stare.
    “Not worth much since you’re already here. Never mind, son; damn foolish navy tradition anyway.” he said, motioning for Braxton to take a seat on the bench. He turned to the man at the stern working the steam engine. “Bring the bag up to pressure. As soon as we’re clear of the building, make speed.”
    The man saluted and began turning a large brass wheel. Braxton heard a rushing sound in one of the brass pipes and the ropes holding the boat began to creak. He felt a sensation as if his stomach dropped down into his gut and the boat lifted off the roof.
    “You are Captain Wright, aren’t you?” the man in the fancy coat asked, sitting down on the bench opposite.
    “Yes, sir,” Braxton said.
    “I’m Sherman,” the man said, crossing his legs and pulling a pipe from his jacket. “Air Marshal of the Union Flotilla.”
    Braxton reached out to shake the man’s hand but Sherman ignored him, focusing instead on lighting his pipe.
    “That was fine work you did at Parkersburg,” Sherman said, puffing his pipe to life. “Too bad that dragon got you. Damned flying lizards. We’re lucky Napoleon’s grand-brat won’t