“That’s a lot of mercury,” Doc said. “You’re happy, right?”
“Happy?” The hatter looked up morosely. “No. We’ll die soon. Hats are the only thing keeping us going.”
Doc let his hand shine with healing hands, “Shake?”
The hatter blinked at him before hesitantly taking Doc’s offered hand. Doc was right; mercury poisoning was killing the milliner and making him crazy. He tried to heal the poison, but when nothing seemed to happen, he realized his magic couldn’t touch it. The poison had seeped too far into the hatter. He’d need to be able to cure heavy afflictions to help the gnome.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you right now,” Doc said as his hand stopped glowing. “I don’t have enough faith behind me. If I can help you later, would you want that?”
The hatter sniffled, tears trickling down his cheeks. “Please... hats... we want to make more.”
“Okay, I’ll come back as soon as I can help. I hope you and your hats are safe and happy until then.”
“Thank you,” the milliner sniffled again. He went into the back and left them, shutting the door behind him, the money still on the counter.
“Come on,” Doc said softly. “I’m sure he’ll come back to lock up once we leave.” Doc put his new hat in the box and carried it as they headed for the door.
Chapter Thirty
The Lily was in full swing when they returned. Fiala took his hatbox and went upstairs to put it away for him. Doc smiled after her, happy until he heard the unkind words from the men nearby.
“As if she’s ever going to be respectable... Stupid bitch. Whoever talked her into it is going to use her and toss her aside.”
Doc’s hand twitched, and he was glad he wasn’t wearing the pistol.
“I’m sure the guy will take her to another town and whore her out there. New for them, but used for us. I wonder how long until Lia gets a new one in. Stupid elf takes forever to bring in fresh meat.”
Deciding the table was full of idiots, Doc turned away from them. The piano sat empty, the normal player not there. Doc frowned and made his way over to Westin behind the bar. “Where’s the music?”
“Couldn’t come in tonight,” Westin sighed. “Lia tried to arrange for another person, but there aren’t that many skilled musicians in this town.”
“What’s the job normally pay?”
“A dollar plus tips,” Westin said. “Why?”
“I’ll take it,” Doc chuckled as he headed for the piano.
“What?” Westin asked incredulously. “Hey, don’t go touching that! It’s expensive.”
Doc ignored him as he took a seat on the bench and raised the cover. There were only two pieces of sheet music on the stand, but Doc ignored them. Been a while, but I’m sure I can still at least do well enough. Feeling the hostile and curious gazes on his back, Doc took a deep breath and began with a simple song for him. The opening notes of Imagine by John Lennon started to spill out from the piano.
The noise in the building dimmed as people all turned to listen to him play. Doc closed his eyes as he pictured the words to the song flowing past him, Lennon’s iconic voice filling his head.
When the last note died away, Lia spoke up from beside him, “A little simple, but I felt there should be words to go with it.”
“The words are what make that song special,” Doc said with a grin. “Is it okay if I fill in?”
“Do you know anything a bit more upbeat?”
Doc let his fingers trail over the keys for a minute as he considered her request. “I know a few... how about this one?” Without warning, he launched into Green Onions by Booker T.
Lia’s eyebrows went up and her fan slowed as the song played. The crowd listened in and some of them started to pick up the beat, light stomping coming in with the hard beats. Lotus had paused by the stairs, but as the song continued, she jumped onto the stage and began to improvise a dance to the music, giving him a smile as she went past. Doc chuckled and let the song repeat so she could get a full dance in.
The tavern applauded loudly when he finished playing. Lotus, breathing hard, came over to the stairs and waved off the men who called out to her. She stepped away from the stairs since Lia was still standing there.
“I see you can play, and a few songs I’ve never heard,” Lia said. “Feel free to continue. We’ll pay you at the end of the night.”
“Sounds good,” Doc smiled, playing a light and easy song as they talked. “Not sure I can play any of the standards. I only know the music from my home. If you have set music you want me to do, I’d need the sheets.”
“Play what you wish, but upbeat and happy is best,” Lia told him. “Thank you for assisting me once again.”
“You’re welcome, Madam,” Doc said, taking his hat off and setting it on the top of the piano. “Will you be gracing the stage tonight?”
“No. I have things to get done before tomorrow.”
“A pity, but understandable. I was moved by your last song and was hoping to hear something similar.”
“Maybe after the tournament,” Lia said before gliding away from him.
“Doc?” Fiala asked a moment later. She had come down the stairs and found him playing at the piano. “You can play?”
“I had a hand in a number of things in my life,” Doc smiled as he continued playing. “Are you going to take over one of the tables?”
“Madam said she was going to have a fourth table brought in tonight. I’m going to run it.”
“Two penny games?” Doc asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think so. She wanted a fourth table for tomorrow.”
“Makes sense. Earn some money and see you later.”
“Yes,” Fiala went over to kiss his cheek. “Later.”
“Him?” one man scoffed. “She chose a musician over a man with a real job?”
“I thought he was useless for real labor,” another joined in.
Fiala stiffened and stood up, her tail lashing in agitation. Doc caught her eyes and shook his head minutely. “Ignore the ignorant slobs— they are just jealous,” he said, softly enough that he was sure she heard but that it didn’t carry to the table.
“Look, I think the cat is mad. Probably just needs some real meat, am I right?” the man laughed as he leered at her. “Come here, kitty... I’ll show you what a real man can do for you.”
Doc stopped playing and people looked over. Sighing, he looked at the offending table. “She has one. You see, real men can be civil, polite, and know what decorum means. Ah, that explains why the word makes you frown in confusion.” Fingers moving rapidly, he rattled off a quick ditty that put a punctuation on his words.
“Fucking dudes always coming out west and thinking they know better,” the first man snarled, getting to his feet and touching the gun at his side.
“Gentlemen,” Lia called from near the bar, “violence isn’t allowed inside this establishment, and threatening my employees will get you permanently banned. Leave. You can apologize next time you come.”
“Leave?” He let out a booming laugh as he turned to face Lia, his pistol free of its holster but still at his side. “No one here is going to make us go before we want to.”
The other three men at the table stood up, all of them pulling pistols free and glaring at the rest of the patrons. Doc started playing ominous music as the men did so. “Have to set the mood. There you go, gentlemen! Now you have the right tone for ‘evil men intent on breaking the law.’”
“You mocking us?” the leader growled.
“Mocking? No,” Doc said with all sincerity as he watched a few people near the door slip out. “Helping you? Yes. Every fool needs an audience, after all, and every audience needs the stage to be set.”
The four men looked confused, but a few people in the room had to stifle laughter when they caught his meaning. Lia’s expression behind her fan was hard to read, but her eyes were hard, flat, and devoid of emotion as she stared at them.
“That’s enou
gh. Gilden, grab him!” the leader spat. “Take him outside and have some fun with him.”
One of the men started walking toward him. Doc played an exciting and ominous riff on the piano before he stood up slowly and turned to face the men, his hands well away from his body. “Well, it looks like these four aren’t a fan of music. I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but my performance is being cut short tonight.”
The room stared at him, wondering how he could be so calm when he was unarmed and clearly about to be beaten or killed. Fiala was horrified, completely frozen in place near the piano, knowing she couldn’t do anything.
Doc didn’t react when the man slapped him or grabbed him roughly, shoving him toward the door. He did use that stagger to let his hand dip into his vest pocket and pull his derringer.
“Now, the rest of you, we’re going to be having some fun,” the leader of the gang laughed. “Kitty, come here! You can start by showing me that you understand your place.”
Doc was shoved out the door by Gilden, his nasally laugh punctuating the leader’s words. “After he’s done with her, we’re all going to get a piece, too.”
Doc had let the push guide him to the side away from the swing doors. He went a couple of steps further than he should have, letting the man follow him. Fire in his gut, he focused on missed me.
“Now, you should dance for me,” Gilden snickered as he pulled back the hammer on the pistol.
Doc turned partially around, using his body to shield the small gun from his attacker. “Dance? No need for that. After all, dead men don’t appreciate a good waltz.” As Gilden’s brow furrowed, trying to understand the sentence, Doc pulled his right arm up sharply and fired in quick succession.
His quick movement caused Gilden to fire, but the bullet whizzed through Doc’s body, not harming him. Doc’s two shots hit the man in the chest and, staggering back, Gilden fell to the ground. His pistol dropped from his nerveless hand as blood gushed from his lips.
Fiala’s scream from inside made Doc’s blood go cold. Throwing his gun down, he rushed forward and snatched Gilden’s pistol, bursting in through the doors. “Everyone down, now!” Doc yelled with all the force that stand down could muster.
Everyone in the Lily hit the floor, including the remaining three men. Doc was across the room in a flash, his foot slamming into the leader’s hand. Pulling the hammer back on the pistol, Doc glared down at them. “I’m sure the sheriff will be along shortly. If you move, I’ll shoot you in preemptive self-defense of me, Fiala, and everyone else here. Understood?”
Both lackeys glared at him, but nodded and let go of their guns. The leader hissed, his eyes daggers as he stared up at Doc, “I’m gonna gut you!”
“Hard to do from jail,” Doc replied evenly. “Can I get someone to help wrangle these two? Fiala, are you okay?”
Fiala was crying and staring at him with wide eyes. “Yes… I thought…”
“Sorry for making you worry,” Doc said gently.
A couple of men from nearby came over and used the men’s belts to tie their hands. They didn’t have to wait long before Grange and his two deputies burst through the doors, leveling their guns at Doc.
“Drop it,” Grange ordered.
Doc sighed and started to comply when Lia spoke up, “No. Do not drop that gun, Doc. Grange, he is stopping the man pinned below him from firing.”
Grange paused and took in the scene. “Fine. Deputies, handle the man on the ground.”
The twins rushed forward and secured the leader with manacles. Doc stepped away and lowered the hammer on the gun, setting it on a table. The moment he did, his hands started to shake and Fiala hit him like a truck, staggering him sideways.
“Okay, what happened here?”
“I can explain, Sheriff,” Lia said, coming out from behind the bar. “Doc, why don’t you retire for the night? You’ve done enough by stopping those four men. I’ll have some drinks sent up shortly.”
Fiala was clutching him tightly and silently crying into his chest, but Doc nodded. “Yeah, thank you. Sheriff, if you need to talk to me, I’ll be here all week.”
Grange looked putout, but nodded. “Make sure you’re available.”
“As available as I can be,” Doc said as he led Fiala toward the stairs.
“What did you do to Gilden, you bastard!?” the leader snarled as the deputies hauled him and the other two to their feet.
Doc paused on the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, right... my gun is outside.”
“I’ll have it retrieved,” Lia said. “Go now.”
“Thanks, again,” Doc nodded.
~*~*~
Making it upstairs took some time. Doc’s legs felt like jelly and Fiala was clinging to him tightly. Cassia and a couple of the other women stood on the second-floor landing, looking pale.
“Is everyone okay?” Cassia asked with trepidation.
“No one but the assholes were hurt,” Doc said, stopping and pulling Fiala gently away from him. After looking her over, he exhaled deeply and nodded. “Fiala screamed, but she doesn’t look hurt.”
“I thought you’d been shot...” Fiala sniffled. “They hadn’t laid a hand on me before you came back in.”
“I thought they’d hurt you when you screamed,” Doc replied softly, pulling her back to him. “Seems we were both wrong, thankfully.”
“What happened?” another of the women asked.
“Four men were making comments about the music, and then about Fiala and me,” Doc replied, his voice shaking a bit. “I made fun of them and the leader took it badly. Guns were drawn and they hauled me outside. Lia knows the story... She’s explaining it to Grange. If you’ll pardon me, I need to go lay down for a bit.”
“Oh, right,” the woman nodded, her scaled tail lashing back and forth.
Doc recalled her name as Jasmine and gave her a strained smile. “Thank you, Jasmine.”
“Lia could probably use our help calming the guests,” another said.
Cassia frowned, “She could. I can serve drinks, at least.”
Doc left them to figure it out and went up toward the third floor, Fiala beside him. When they made it to his room, Doc gingerly set Fiala into the chair before dropping onto his bed. “Fuck, that’s five times so far,” he exhaled and shivered. He knew that, once again, he had come close to dying.
“Huh?” Fiala looked at him with tears dripping from her eyes.
“Fifth time I could have died since coming here,” Doc said, breathing deeply and trying to calm his jingling nerves.
“Fifth?” Fiala’s eyes widened.
“Skippy, shootout, dryad, bear, and tonight... though the shootout had multiple points when I could have been killed, honestly.”
“But…”
“This seems to be my life, Fiala,” Doc said softly. “I’m going to be facing problems for the rest of my life. Sure you still want to be near me?”
Fiala pushed herself to her feet and staggered the two steps to the bed, flinging herself on top of him. “Yes. You won’t scare me off.”
Doc shook his head, holding her as she clung to him. “Not my intention. I just want you to be aware of what the future is going to look like.”
A soft knock on the door announced someone waiting for them. Doc rolled Fiala over so she was on the bed before he got to his feet. “I’ll get it.”
Fiala nodded, brushing at her cheeks. “Okay.”
Posy stood there, looking up at him with wide wet eyes and trembling lips. “Your drinks.”
Doc went down to one knee so he was at the same height as her. “You okay, Posy?”
“I was scared... I saw it from the hallway...” Tears began to fall and she hiccupped.
Doc took the drinks from her, set them aside, and gave her a gentle hug. “Shh, it’s okay... The bad guys are gone now, right?”
“They were going to kill you and hurt Fiala,” Posy hiccup cried, clutching at him and burying her face in his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Doc whispered,
stroking her head gently. “I’ll try to be better about it next time.”
Sniffling, Posy nodded. “Okay... No dying, please.”
“I’ll do my best not to die,” Doc reassured her, “nor to let Fiala get hurt, okay?”
“Good. You’re a good guy. Momma will speak with you at breakfast.”
The memory of what he had talked with Posy about earlier came back to him. “Okay. Thank you, Posy. You should go back to work now, okay?”
Nodding, she stepped back and rubbed at her cheeks. “Goodnight, sir, Fiala.”
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