Claimed

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Cedar?” came Kali’s whisper.

  He sighed. So much for her staying outside where it was less grisly. “Back here,” he said, heading for her. He kept himself from saying that she should have waited outside or that this place wasn’t fitting for a woman. She never took kindly to such judgments.

  She had a lantern of her own lit when Cedar reached her. Her face seemed a tad paler than usual as she stood amongst the chewed bones, but all she said was, “Not your work this time?”

  “I don’t usually eat the criminals before I turn them over to the Mounties.”

  “A comforting policy.” Kali pointed toward the cave exit. “I got restless waiting for you, so I dug out a spyglass and shimmied up a tree.”

  “Restless? Have I been gone more than five minutes?”

  “At least seven, I should think. My mind doesn’t take well to idleness. Anyway, I spotted our guide racing out of the trees and running down the creek to a claim with a little cabin on it. She was inside for a minute or two, then two men jogged out, grabbed kayaks, and took off down the creek.”

  “That seems a might suspicious,” Cedar said.

  “If they were these brothers she spoke of, they were a lot older than her. One had gray hair.”

  “So maybe she’s a spy after all, and those two are off to warn someone that strangers have been snooping around.”

  “That’s what I was figuring,” Kali said. “We might want to save the spelunking for another time.”

  Cedar gazed toward the back of the cave. “If those men were heading back to town to warn someone, they’ll have miles to go. We should have a few hours before they get back.”

  “Good, then we can be long gone by then. Or was there something back there calling to you?” Kali jerked a thumb toward the darkness. “If it’s that stench, I’m going to be concerned for your sanity.”

  “I think there are bodies back here somewhere. Recently slain ones. Killing folks is a more heinous crime than scaring them into selling their land.”

  “I suppose you wouldn’t appreciate a suggestion that we could simply tell the Mounties how to find this cave and let them explore it themselves while we do equally noble but less corpse-related activities, such as finishing our airship.”

  Cedar wasn’t surprised that she would prioritize that—or that she wanted to get out of this cave—but it was something else that made him smile. “Our airship?”

  Kali shrugged. “You’ve been helping me with it, and it’s the partnership you offered me that’s allowed me to order all the parts for it. I reckon you’ve a right to a share if you want it.”

  “Does that mean I’ll get to drive it?”

  “Land sakes, no. And the proper term is pilot.”

  Cedar snorted. “So, I’ll own a part of it, but I won’t have any actual rights to use it?”

  “You can ride in it, sleep in it, and chase off any pirates that try to board it.”

  “Are you sure you’re not confusing the duties of owners with the duties of hired hands?”

  “We’ll figure out the details once we’re ready to get it in the air. Sometime after we get out of this cave.” Kali pointed at the exit.

  “Just give me five minutes to see if I can find where the rest of the bodies are hiding.”

  Kali grumbled but didn’t object when he headed back to the rubble pile. Indeed, she followed him and held up her lantern for him. He thought of asking her to wait outside—if he did find those bodies, they might be in a gorier condition than the bones—but maybe she would have an idea as to where a secret chamber might be.

  “What’s this?” Kali murmured from a few feet behind him.

  She was kneeling on the ground, running a finger along the rock.

  “Find something?” he asked, taking a step in her direction.

  “A crack.”

  Something gave beneath his foot, and his heel descended an inch.

  Kali stood. “It occurs to me that—”

  The ground tilted so sharply, Cedar was flung against the rubble wall. The angle grew steeper, and he dropped to the cave floor, scrabbling with his hands, trying to find a grip. The smooth stone offered nothing. It tilted to vertical and he plunged into darkness, air whistling past his ears.

  He landed on his feet, but the fall had been too far and too fast, and he wasn’t prepared for the jolt. Pain shot up his legs, even as his heels slipped out from beneath him, and he tumbled to his butt. Only his backpack helped break the landing. His lantern had escaped his hands on the way down, and it struck the ground a few feet away and went out. He still had his rifle, but he couldn’t see a damned thing. Maybe it was just as well. He had found the source of the stench, of the urine and sweat and rotting meat. His hand squished in something cold and damp when he pushed himself to his feet.

  “Kali?” he called, peering upward, hoping she hadn’t fallen in as well. But the light was gone up there.

  A groan of pain answered him, and his shoulders slumped. She had fallen into the pit too.

  He took a step in her direction—something squished beneath his boot.

  “Kali?”

  She wasn’t the one to respond. The faint sound that reached his ears was familiar, though he hadn’t expected to hear it up here in the Yukon. He had last heard it when he passed through the New Mexico Territory three years ago—the buzz of a rattlesnake.

  More buzzes started up—so many that it almost sounded like there were angry bees in the walls.

  “Not a positive development,” Cedar muttered.

  Even though he wanted to check on Kali, he had a feeling he needed a light, and he needed it fast. He found the lantern, but the flame had gone out. Something slithered past his leg. His instincts were to pound at it with his rifle, but that would only irritate a critter. Besides, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face; there might be twenty of the infernal snakes down here. The last thing he wanted was to make them angry. More angry.

  The rattles were picking up in intensity. Something plopped to the ground near him—it sounded like the snakes had been holed up in the walls and were coming out to feed.

  Cedar started to yank off his backpack, intending to grab his flint again, but a memory popped into his head. Instead of digging for the flint, he grabbed the bottle of kerosene for the lanterns. He ripped off the lid and spattered the liquid on the ground around him. He groped his way to Kali, dumping more kerosene on the way. He found her and pulled her to her feet—the groan that escaped her lips reassured him; she might have taken a hard fall, but she was alive. He doused her boots and trousers with the liquid and did the same to himself. Given the other stenches in the pit, the alcohol scent was an improvement.

  “Cedar?” Kali asked, a wince in her voice. “Is it my imagination, or did you just douse me in kerosene?”

  “Yes.”

  “Uhm, why?”

  “There are rattlesnakes everywhere. If I hadn’t been certain Cudgel was involved in this scheme before, I am now. The man’s got a fascination with reptiles. He hunts crocs and gators, and he even did an expedition to South America at one point, looking for evidence that dinosaurs still live in remote jungles.” Cedar was intimately aware of that expedition since he had followed Cudgel down there. That had been the closest he had come to killing the man, but the criminal was even slipperier than the snakes and lizards he kept for pets. “He didn’t find any, but he did bring back some deadly snakes for his personal zoo in California. Nobody else would send someone out to capture rattlesnakes and go through the trouble of bringing them up here to harass people.” Kill people, Cedar corrected to himself. Falling on a pile of rattlers was a sure way to get a lethal dose of venom.

  “That’s... an interesting side note,” Kali said, “but I don’t see how it answers my question. I’m powerful curious to know why we’re wearing kerosene, seeing as how it would be nice to light a lantern and look around about now, but I wouldn’t care to go up in a flaming bonfire if I did so.”

  “Snak
es don’t like kerosene. I thought standing in the dark would be preferable to being bit by a dozen venomous rattlers.”

  “Huh. They’re also afraid they would go up in a bonfire?” Kali asked.

  From her lack of terror at the rattling sounds that continued to buzz from the periphery of the pit, Cedar judged she hadn’t encountered venomous snakes before. He couldn’t think of any that were native to the area. Just as well. He had been bitten once while chasing a criminal through rocky desert country and couldn’t recommend the experience.

  “I think it’s the natural oils on their skin,” Cedar said. “The alcohol sucks it up, and they don’t like the feel of it. I’d still be careful where you step.”

  “Something that would be easier with light. Although...” Kali sniffed, then coughed—or maybe that was a gag. “Judging by the smell of this place, I may not want to see what else is on the floor besides snakes.”

  “I had that thought as well. This must have been a sump for the original miners, but I doubt they were the ones to put a trapdoor on it.” He was surprised they weren’t standing in water. Maybe the water table was lower this late in the summer.

  “Someone must have wanted his snakes to stay put.”

  “And his prisoners.” Cedar shook his head. “I haven’t explored thoroughly yet, but from the echoes on those rattlers, I figure our pit is about ten feet by ten feet.”

  “The floor tilted away,” Kali said. “I saw it coming, but wasn’t fast enough to react and get off. That was worlds of stupid, getting caught in a trap when we knew this was a trap.”

  “Yes, I apologize. You wouldn’t have come back here if it weren’t for me. You were right. I should have left it to the Mounties to come poke around in here.” Cedar hoped Kali would say it wasn’t his fault and that it could have happened to anyone. She didn’t. This wasn’t the first time he had pulled her into trouble because of his obsession with Cudgel. He hoped that once he finally got his man, his tunnel vision would resolve into something less narrow. He didn’t mind taking risks and getting himself in trouble—that came with the job—but if something happened to Kali because of his choices...

  “At least you found the bodies,” she said dryly.

  “Yes. Any thoughts on ways to get out of here?” Cedar had a feeling they had dropped too far for him to jump and catch the ledge up there—if it were even accessible. He hadn’t heard the creak of hinges or the grinding of stone moving, but the trap might have reset itself somehow. “You did promise to rescue me if I needed it.”

  “Something that would have been easier if I hadn’t fallen into the trap along with you.” Kali sighed again. “Fooled by a ten-year-old and a cave. I’m definitely not having a bright day.”

  He was still holding her upright, so he gave her a pat on the shoulder. He decided not to admit that he had gotten himself into situations this dumb numerous times in the past. His athleticism usually saved him, along with a refusal to give up. “Let’s see how deep this pit is. Why don’t I give you a boost up, and you see if you can reach the top. I didn’t hear the trap reset, and it seems I can still feel a draft against my cheek.”

  “It would take some fancy engineering to make a self-closing trapdoor, especially with something that heavy. Did your rope fall down here with you?”

  “Yes. Did your tools?”

  “They’re out by the SAB,” Kali admitted. “I wasn’t certain of my ability to scale that cliff with extra weight swaying around on my back.”

  “They can’t all be out there. Something’s jabbing me in the ribs. And in the arm. And... if I weren’t reasonably positive you were a woman, I would be concerned about that hard shaft sticking into my thigh.”

  Kali stepped back, but not without slugging him in the stomach. He deserved that, he reckoned.

  “That’s a wrench. I always have the basics. I’m ready for that boost.”

  Cedar probed the ground with his foot, making his way to a wall. Slowly, very slowly. Soft rasps and the shifting of rocks—or maybe bones—promised the snakes were still in the area. Several scurried away as he and Kali moved. The kerosene was keeping them back, but they weren’t fleeing. He didn’t think rattlesnakes ate humans, but he could be wrong.

  When he reached the wall, he interlaced his fingers so Kali could step on them. “Here.”

  She climbed up, using the wall and his shoulders—and once a finger in the eye—for handholds. Soon her boots rested on his shoulders. Soft pats sounded as she investigated the darkness above them.

  “I can’t reach anything except more wall,” Kali said.

  A soft tink came from above, then something clacked to the ground a few feet away. An angry rattle shook the silence.

  “You’re irking the wildlife,” Cedar said.

  “Fortunately, I’m up on a sturdy platform and well away from the wildlife.” Kali tossed something else. This time, whatever it was clacked higher up and didn’t fall back to the floor. “The trapdoor—I guess you’d call it a trap floor—is open, but it’s another ten feet above my head. No wonder falling hurt.”

  Cedar grumbled to himself. The hours he had estimated that it would take someone to get to town, warn Cudgel, and return with a team of armed men no longer seemed such a huge amount of time. If he and Kali couldn’t figure out a way to escape before then, they would be easy targets to anyone standing up there with a gun. Of course, they might not have hours, anyway. Once the kerosene dried, it wouldn’t be nearly the deterrent for the snakes. He didn’t like the odds of keeping so many away with his sword, a sword he wasn’t even sure had fallen into the pit with him.

  “You’ve got a rope,” Kali said. “What about a grappling hook?”

  “No. Also, I don’t know that there’s anything up there except that rubble wall that one could latch onto, and it would be difficult to lodge a hook between rocks from this angle. And from twenty-five feet down.”

  “I have confidence that you can do it.” Kali shifted her weight. “Let me down. I’ll see if I can make you a hook.”

  “Out of what? Are you planning to sacrifice your tools to provide the metal?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure there are some knives or belt buckles or other materials down here that I can use.”

  Cedar helped Kali off his shoulders, keeping her close as he lowered her. She seemed too casual about the idea of poking around amongst these snakes. She hadn’t seen people die out in the desert after being bitten, not the way he had. Better for someone with a powerful respect for them to do the poking about.

  “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll look.”

  He thought she might argue, but all she said was, “Bones as a last resort, please.” She was breathing audibly, through her mouth. The stench must be worse down here, or it was getting to her regardless of her position. “They’d have to be whittled down and wouldn’t be as effective as metal,” she added. “And they’re... disturbing.”

  “That they are.”

  Another rattle buzzed, this one nearby. Cedar pulled out the kerosene bottle again, grimacing at the level of liquid remaining. He wished he had been less liberal with his first application, especially with all of Kali’s gear waiting outside.

  He dampened his hands and the tip of his Winchester with the cool liquid, then lowered himself to his knees. He crawled into the darkness, using the weapon to probe the ground ahead of him. Again, scales rustled as snakes slithered away from his approach. He forced himself to angle toward the rotting carcasses of those who had fallen for the trap before, instead of veering away as he would have preferred. He patted down the mostly devoured bodies, searching for belts, knifes, guns, or other items that might be fashioned together into a hook. He had his own knife he could add to the effort, but Kali would probably need a few items to be used as prongs.

  Light appeared, startling him. His first thought was that Kali had risked a match, but he couldn’t imagine her being so foolish. The streaky nature of the light wasn’t anything like a flame, and the source dawne
d on him. He had seen it before.

  “I didn’t know you had any of that with you,” Cedar said, using the opportunity to examine their surroundings for the first time. What he had imagined proved quite accurate; they were indeed in a pit with dimensions close to the ten-by-ten feet he had estimated. Fist-sized holes dotted the first few feet of wall—snake holes. No less than twenty snakes were coiled along the edges of the pit—several had shifted away from the fluctuating brightness of the small flake of flash gold in Kali’s vial. Four dead men occupied the space as well, though they were more skeletons than corpses at this point. The Mounties wouldn’t have been able to identify them as the missing men anyway, unless one could figure out who they were by their effects.

  “I don’t know if I can think of a way to use it to help with a grappling hook,” Kali said, “though it did belatedly occur to me that it would make an effective light source, one that shouldn’t ignite the kerosene.”

  “Shouldn’t?”

  “I haven’t caught myself on fire with it yet,” Kali said. “Admittedly, I don’t make a habit of handling it when I’m wearing kerosene cologne. As long as it’s in the vial, it will be fine. Tarnation, this is a hideous hole.” Lip curled, she looked like she regretted illuminating the space.

  Cedar hurried to gather knives and weapons, then deposited them at Kali’s feet. She already had a small spool of copper wire out, along with wire cutters and pliers. He could only guess at what tools remained in her pack. She studied her “raw materials,” then set to work without hesitation. Cedar smiled, the light brightening his mood—and his confidence. Though he could now see that the tilted floor that marked the opening of the trap was high overhead, he was certain they would find a way out.

  Keeping one eye on the snakes, he crouched beside Kali and picked up the vial. As he had seen it do before, the flake of flash gold pulsed with power, occasionally sending tiny streaks of lightning up and down its glass confines.

  “Are you thinking of something crafty?” Kali asked as she pried a knife blade out of its hilt. “Or being mesmerized by the shiny sparks?”