The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

A tall man with red hair caught back in a long ponytail turned and took the swaying stairs at breakneck speed. Bill stood beside Loretta and Karl, his knuckles white from his grip on the rail.

Karl wasn't sure what to do, or what message to hope for. He touched Loretta's shoulder, gratified when she leaned against him.

Bill climbed down several steps to meet Calder. When he returned to Karl and Loretta, he held a small, white envelope with a folded note underneath.

Karl hardly ever saw plain white anymore, outside of what Joffrey Columns used for official business. It was a lot less expensive, but hopelessly old-fashioned in his mother's opinion.

"Black seal," Loretta said, touching the waxy circle on the envelope. "Mourning."

"Rullin sent it, so he's probably alive." Bill's voice shook, but he sounded determined as he unfolded the note. "That's his handwriting. Loretta, my dear, your plan worked to perfection. After some time to think about it, time Walton says Rullin did not enjoy, he begged to be allowed to send just this one letter. He also begged for it to go out on the next shaw, horse, or beggar's cart. Anything but by his own brother's hand. Come, we'll do this in my quarters."

Karl followed, not sure why Bill needed to be so secretive about opening a letter on his own ship, especially after reading that note out loud. He and Loretta hung back as the pilot unlocked his desk and rolled the top up.

It was as fine as any back in Waldron's Gate, the dark wood polished to a gloss that seemed at odds with the rest of the shaw, at least outside of Bill's quarters. Karl wondered who'd been unfortunate enough to have to drag the heavy thing down here into the bowels of the airship.

Bill laid the envelope in the center of the dark green work surface, then used another key to open one of the tiny drawers. He pulled out what Karl thought was an odd sort of corkscrew at first glance. The carved wooden handle, dark with use, extended up from the thin copper blade instead of making a T.

Karl was drawing breath to ask how copper could be strong enough to pull a cork when he noticed the blade wasn't twisted.

Loretta winked at Karl, motioning for him to step closer. The pilot held the envelope up to the light, squeezing the top down just a little. He slid the copper end inside the gap there. Karl was sure Bill used his thumb to separate the blade into two parts. He angled it down, and when it was completely inside, Bill slowly twisted the handle.

The paper moved so gradually it didn't make enough sound to carry over the background noise of the ship. A small bulge formed at the top, and Bill pulled it out carefully. He unrolled a letter written on the same inexpensive white stationary beside the still-perfect envelope.

"Now that is a neat maneuver," Karl said.

He wondered if the guards out at the Columns did exactly the same thing.

"Well, you've both seen it. No need to keep the secret." Bill unfolded the paper carefully, pushing it flat against the wood. "Loretta is one of the few to know why I post letters and such for my crew for free, part of their compensation. They've never quite figured out how I know who's happy and who's not, and most importantly, who to keep and who to leave on the ground."

He fell silent. Before Karl could move away to give him privacy, the pilot got to his feet so quickly his chair creaked.

"This concerns you as much as me," he said. "I'd say my dear brother is far more concerned with everything besides his family."

He walked to the opposite side of the cabin, the only window Karl had seen on this level of the airship. Both he and Loretta stepped forward to read.

To My Kind and Gracious Benefactor:

The corruption and ruin around me is worse than I'd feared, with loyalties everywhere but where they rightly should be. In my efforts to correct the situation, I have fallen into a most dire predicament, one that may prove to be fatal. I still have so much to share, so much that will fill you with joy.

I beg of you, please allow me to help bring your wishes into reality. As has long been the case, you are far more of a father to me than my own, far more of a brother to me than my own has ever been. I will never be able to repay your kindness and generosity, but I deeply hope for the opportunity to try.

Yours, R

Loretta crossed the small room to stand beside Bill, and after a few seconds Karl did the same. The three of them watched the village disappear with the sunset. Only a few fires remained to let them know it hadn't winked out of existence.

Bill took a deep breath.

"I'll send Calder with a return message immediately. We pick him up in the morning. Keep a hood over his head. No one speaks after Walton tells him he's being sent to Constable Law or Joffrey Columns or sold as a slave or whatever he wants to bloody well say. Drop him in the darkest cargo hold, plug his ears so he won't know where he's landed. Karl, will he have permanent damage if we keep withholding Crumble?"

Karl held his breath for a second, wondering if he could go through with this. He'd already gone against everything he believed about helping people with Rullin.

On the other hand, he'd never met anyone who deserved his help less.

"He, ah, he won't have permanent damage from what I understand," Karl said. "I've heard if you give him just a little, maybe if Walton gives him a quarter dose, he'll have the hallucinations again in a few hours. That might make him more susceptible to whatever you tell him."

"I've heard the same thing, Bill," Loretta said. "Just a little now will send him