The Georgia Alchemist (Dragons of the Confederacy Book 2)

CONTENTS 1. The First Step 2. The Pursuit 3. Broken Legs 4. At the Colonel’s Pleasure 5. Hendersonville 6. The Belle of the Ball 7. Gambling 8. The Cumberland 9. War 10. The Deserter 11. Doctoring 12. Stone Mountain Rider 13. June 14. Gray Matters 15. Downriver 16. Blackstone Crossing 17. The Virginia 18. The Assault 19. Surrender 20. The Turncoat 21. Execution Dock 22. Pinkerton’s Game About the Authors Digital Edition – 2016 This version copyright © 2023 by Tracy Hickman & Dan Willis. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. Initial Edits by Bryan Thomas Schmidt Edited by Stephanie Osborn Cover by Mihaela Voicu Published by Runeblade Entertainment Spanish Fork, Utah. THE FIRST STEP Hattie wished she had a fan, as the muggy air of the train car made her borrowed clothes stick to her body. The clothes were serviceable enough, but made from thick fabric that simply refused to breathe. When the train finally lurched to a stop, she fled the confines of the passenger coach for the comparatively cool open air of the station platform. It was absolutely rejuvenating. Or it would have been if she hadn’t felt like the Grand Marshal leading a parade of fools. One by one her troupe exited behind her, with the Yankee doctor bringing up the rear. He didn’t seem a bad sort, if a little timid, but Hattie didn’t want any of them. She worked best alone. Unfortunately a woman traveling alone would be suspicious, so she loitered around the train until most of the other passengers had gone, then grit her teeth and led the way to the railroad station house. "All right," she said once they were in the shade of the station’s eaves. "Braxton and I will go get my trunk. You two," she pointed to the doctor and the abomination, "wait here until we get back... and try to stay out of trouble." "I don’t think we’ll have much trouble," the doctor said. He reached past Hattie and tore a bill from the wall of the station. "You and Braxton, however . . ." He handed the paper to her and she turned it over. On its face, a well-done likeness of Braxton stared up at her under the words, Yankee Spy and Wanted Alive, $500 Reward. She opened her mouth to swear, but thought better of it. This wasn’t the prison yard and a woman uttering what she had been about to say would be ill regarded by anyone overhearing. "All the more reason to take him with me," Hattie said. "If he’s loitering around here, someone may recognize him." "That’s not all," the abomination said. It tore another posted handbill from the wall and passed it over. This one had a somewhat unflattering likeness of her under the words Wanted, Dead or Alive. "They really don’t like you," Braxton said. "They don’t have any real use for me except to trade for some captured Confederate spy," Hattie said. "But it seems they have plans for you." Braxton looked uncomfortable at that thought but rallied quickly. "How did these get here before we did?" Braxton asked. "They didn’t," the doctor said, taking the likeness of Hattie and turning it over. He ran his finger along the back of the paper then held it up. "The paste is still wet," he said. "Someone just put these up. They probably came here on the same train we did." "Good," Hattie said. "That means the only person in town who’s seen these is the station agent." "And whoever is putting them up," the abomination said. "Do you think they’re putting them up all over town?" Braxton asked. "Even if they didn’t, one’s bound to be delivered to the local sheriff," Hattie said. "We need to get my trunk and be on our way." She pulled the small, silk purse that contained the remaining money Annie had given them out of her handbag. "Go buy us tickets on the next train to Morehead City," she said, passing the purse to the doctor. "We’ll meet you back here when we’re done." The doctor accepted the bag and Hattie turned to go, but Braxton stuck out his hand. "Take care, Laurie," he said, shaking the doctor’s hand. "And keep Stan out of trouble." "I will not be any trouble," the abomination said. If Hattie hadn’t known better, she would have sworn she detected a note of offense in Stan’s artificial voice. "Come on," Hattie chided. "We’ll be back in an hour or two." Braxton smiled and rolled his eyes at Laurie, thinking Hattie couldn’t see. She was about to chide him again, but stopped herself. She couldn’t let her anger at the situation influence her actions. A chill ran down her back as she realized the enormity of that error. She was a spy, deep behind enemy lines, where a single mistake could get her and her little troupe of misfits shot. She took a breath and reordered her thoughts, suppressing a second shudder. Those two years in prison must have affected her more than she thought. She’d gotten sloppy. Time to adapt. Adapting was the first great lesson that life had taught Hattie. She hadn’t been born to wealth or position. She was the daughter of a poor farmer. Her father had wanted to be an inventor, like his idol, Ben Franklin. He had the mind for it, he knew mathematics and could tinker with the best of them, but he lacked the imagination to truly see things, not for what they were, but for what they could be. Hattie had benefitted from