Brimstone and Lily (Legacy Stone Adventures)

by Terry Kroenung

  I sighed. “I was just out there, you know. Didn’t see nothin’, didn’t hear nothin’.”

  Jasper’s blade spread out into a big shiny eye, then a silvery ear. “And that logically means…what, Miss Stone-Warden-for-a-Day?”

  After scrunching up my face and thinking, I said, “They were waitin’ outta range. Somebody in the house called ‘em in when me and you came in here.”

  The sword clapped its adorable little hands. “Clever girl!”

  I smacked my palm to my forehead. “I knew we couldn’t trust that Reb!”

  “What now?” asked Jasper. He acted like he was my tutor or something.

  “We sneak out and see what’s up. Romulus is still snoozin’ in the house. Don’t want to let him get caught nappin’.” I felt the Stone, but it lay quiet. “No magick or monsters so far. Are they just ordinary men? Not Bullies?”

  Jasper jumped into my hand, his hands and feet disappearing in mid-air. “Let’s go find out.”

  After a couple of long deep breaths I opened the door and my ears. Grass rustled outside, to the north and east of the house. Since the shed sat to the southwest, that meant that we were covered by the house for the moment. No sound or movement came from inside except Tyrell’s snoring. Is he fakin’ that after sendin’ these guys to us? Or is there somebody else out here helpin’ ‘em? Since I hadn’t spotted anyone yet it made sense to be cautious, so with a thought I made the sword into a black shield and held it in front of me. Whoever advanced on the house had discipline. No one spoke, laughed, coughed, or otherwise betrayed themselves. If they carried weapons, and times being what they were I had to believe they were armed to the teeth, they were all careful not to let any metal noises give their positions away. If it weren’t for my magicked ears I’d never have known they were there.

  Easing behind the shed and sidling to my left, I crept behind the square stone well and peeked around the corner to get my first look at the attackers. Three of them were in view now, tiptoeing through the apple orchard just north of the house, about thirty yards away. They wore pieces of Federal blue and Rebel gray uniforms, mixed with civilian shirts and hats. Not a single one of them looked liked he’d bathed or shaved in weeks. All carried muskets with fixed bayonets and all had the hard look of professional soldiers on a do-or-die assault.

  “Renegades,” I said in my mind to Jasper. “Deserters from both armies. They mean to cut our throats and take whatever they think we have.”

  No time to warn Romulus. I could see another three following twenty yards behind the first bunch. Beyond them, a bit further from the house and on the side we’d first come from that afternoon, six more were coming on. This was all up to me. No help would come from Marshals or seagulls or anyone else. And I had to do it quick and quiet or they’d all rush me at once. I had my doubts that even Morphageus could beat those odds.

  “Jasper, listen real careful to what I want to do.” I laid things out for him in the few seconds we had while sneaking around behind the first six attackers. He agreed that it was not only possible, but would be fun. Easy for him to say, he won’t end up dead if things go wrong. I swallowed hard, broke into a run, and did it.

  The only warning the three in the rear had was the boing of a giant spring as Morphageus bounced me into the air like he’d done against Venoma. By the time they’d turn to see what went on behind them, the spring had flowed up my body to my arms and shaped itself into honest-to-goodness bat wings. My belly lurched. Jiminy! This is crazy! I’m flyin’! We’re higher than our hayloft back in Maryland.Maybe this is a really stupid idea. With Jasper’s aid I shakily glided down onto the Renegades from twenty feet up while they were still peering into the darkness where the sound had come from. As I landed without a sound, every muscle tensed for a crash, one wing thumped into a head, another into a neck. As the third turned to see what had dropped his comrades, the hilt of Morphageus laid him low with a one-two to the belly and skull. Whipping around to crouch behind a tree, I tried to stop my terrified panting and my stomach churning. This wasn’t like Bully-fighting. I’d just hurt real people. I’d felt their bones crunch. The other three had turned around at the sound of my assault. As they came toward me I reminded myself that they couldn’t see me in the dark, but I could see them. Okay, then. No time to whimper. Let’s go.

  The nearest one went down with a surprised gasp as the boomerang bounced off his noggin and returned to me. When the man beside him crouched down to check on his condition, a silvery fist flew out of my hand and boxed him to sleep. By this time the last renegade had realized that he was under attack and had raised his musket. But I was beside him in the gloom now, and Morphageus snapped his gun in two like a dry twig. When he tried to run, the magick blade snaked around his throat to choke him into dreamland.

  All of it had happened in thirty frantic seconds. I dropped down into the tall grass at the edge of the orchard. Six down, six to go. I knew that later I’d upchuck from the terror of it all, but right now the Stone seemed to protect me from the worst of normal feelings. Good thing, too, because now the other deserters knew that something had gone wrong with their careful plan. Their leader, a bulky fellow with a heavy cavalry saber in one hand and a Colt revolver in the other, looked straight at me and froze. So much for hidin’ in the grass. With a hiss he snapped the sword in my direction. All of his men turned as one unit and rushed me, silent as death. Pretty good simile, considering the circumstances.

  I should’ve been in a total panic, me a little girl and them hard desperate killers. But it felt like the Stone put out a calming energy that slowed things down and gave me time to think. What I thought of was to run into the thickest part of the orchard, a new long shield hanging off my shoulder. It covered every inch of me from head to toe while weighing less than my coat did. Up till now the renegades had valued silence over anything else, but there was no telling when they might abandon that in favor of shooting.

  No bullets came my way. I was lighter than they were, and in better physical condition, since I hadn’t been living rough like them. Scampering into woods like a bunny, I put a little distance between us, zigzagging between the trees. I need the perfect tree, preferably one that don’t talk. Hey, this’ll do. It had a dense coat of leaves, but also had a strong horizontal branch about eight feet off the ground. Heavy footsteps pounded behind me, sounding closer than they really were because of my wonder-hearing. I’d already let Jasper know about the new plan and he was ready. My arm tugged the shield from my back. By the time my hand flashed forward and up Morphageus had become a thin steel cable with a grappling hook on its far end. It snaked around the branch and bit hard. My momentum and lots of pulling jerked me up onto the limb in a flash. Good thing me and Eddie climb trees all the time. Wiggling against the trunk to hide in the foliage, I waited for my pursuers.

  They came at a trot, in a skirmish line, several yards apart, two to my left right below me and three farther to my right. The one who’d sent them after me stayed about thirty feet back, weapons ready. In a normal battle that arrangement made sense, since a cannon shell would likely cause a single casualty, instead of wrecking the whole formation. But in this situation all it did was put them too far apart to gang up on me. Before they could become aware of that, I took a deep breath and struck.

  My silvery metal bullwhip snapped down, wrapping around the closest soldier’s arm. I yanked with all my might. His musket stayed where it was, but the rest of him crashed hard into the trunk of my tree. Shaking the whip loose, I boomeranged his companion and then looked to my right. Things had happened so fast that all they knew was that two of their men had vanished. They threw themselves onto the ground. Now I heard the unsettling sound of muskets being ratcheted to full-cock. Guess the silent treatment’s about to end, then. Now what?

  Still choosing to make no sound, their leader pointed up at my tree. He crouched back far enough that he could see everything that had happened. Good night vision, too, it seemed. I couldn’t let his men react and start
shooting. Three bullets at once might be more than I could defend against. Jasper-springing up and out of the apple tree, I bat-winged again, soaring over the tree closest to the trio. The instant I landed Morphageus flashed in both hands, angry scarlet runes glowing along its blade. With every bit of strength my body could muster I swung the magick sword. It bit into the lower trunk of the twenty-foot tree. I felt no more resistance than from cutting a cattail. With a snapping creak the apple fell over like a lady fainting from a too-tight corset.

  Right onto the three alarmed renegades.

  Lots of panicked yelling commenced. Silence was no longer golden. From the sound I guessed that one of the attackers wouldn’t be talking for a while but that the other two more than made up for him. They clawed at the branches that pinned them to the ground. One caterwauled that his shoulder had been broken and the other screeched for help from his sergeant. Sergeant? Oh, their leader. Where’s he? I whipped around to where the sword-wielder had been a moment before, my shield up and ready to take a pistol ball.

  Nothing. He was gone.

  I spun in all directions, using my magicked sight to see if he was trying to flank me. Nope. He rushed back north as fast as his legs could get the job done. In a second I lost him as he crested a low ridge and disappeared, probably heading for the nearest tavern. I imagined him drinking half a bottle of whiskey and telling some barkeep about the tiny monster that had bested eleven grown men with guns.

  “Whoo!” Jasper hollered. Lucky that only I could hear him. “Verity the Valiant! You are the Stone-Warden Extraordinaire, girl!”

  I sagged down into the grass like a soggy rag, all my battle-born strength sapped. Shivering, I curled up into a ball, hands over my ears to block out the yells of the men under the tree. Other voices joined them, as most of the renegades I’d clobbered struggled into wakefulness. They groaned about their injuries and started moving north. Some crawled, some stumbled to their feet. None paid me any mind or even looked like they knew where I was. They just wanted to get away from the awful nightmare that had laid them low. Me, too.

  “I don’t wanna do this,” I moaned to Jasper and to anyone else who might be able to read my thoughts. “Monsters, magicians, runnin’, fightin’, flyin’—flyin’!--hurtin’ people…I wanna go home.” I blubbered into my dirty coat sleeve, Morphageus on the ground in front of me, a tin cup again.

  Jasper’s voice managed to sound young and ancient at the same time. “That’s why it has to be you. No one who wants the Stone, who wants the power, can be allowed to have it. No one who craves the Sword and glories in its destructiveness can be trusted to touch it. That’s why all such mortals who try will be killed in trying to wield it.”

  “I might’ve killed somebody here. That ain’t me. I just play-act with swords. It’s make-believe. Give this to some war hero, some strong man who wants to charge the enemy and save civilization. Give it to Mr. Lincoln and let him find a real Stone-Warden.”

  The cup melted into a silvery hand. It felt as warm and giving as a real human hand. Running along my cheek in an almost paternal gesture, Jasper said, “It doesn’t work that way. The Stone finds its own master, and it’s never wrong.” Standing on two fingers like a tiny person, the hand jabbed its thumb at me and added, “If it makes you feel any better, all Stone-Wardens have felt this way. It’s a sign that you’re the right one for the quest.”

  I sat up. The pained voices had all but faded away. All three deserters pinned by the tree had been freed. A light breeze cooled my cheeks where tears had wet them. “All Stone-Wardens? I’m not the first?” Somehow that made me feel better. Misery really does love company. And my enemy, an evil company, really does love misery. Oh, ain’t I clever in adversity?

  “A few, like Jeanne D’Arc. The Merchantry’s not the first bunch of lunkheads to try to run the world, you know. They’re just the nastiest, and the best at it.”

  “And the lunkheads always lose?”

  “So far. Don’t ruin our record, okay?”

  That got a smile out of me. I held out a hand and he hopped onto it. Clasping that shimmery hand hard, I felt better. Almost like holding Eddie’s, or Ma’s, when I’d been down. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.” He jerked my around to the north, turning into a telescope for an instant. A cartoony eye bulged out of it, then I held Morphageus again, runes all fiery. “Oh-oh!”

  I leapt up, heart pounding. “Oh-oh? Oh-oh’s usually bad. What’s with the oh-oh?”

  A finger flowed out of the sword tip, pointing to where all of the renegades had gone. I made a pained face. Partly because I ached from fighting, partly from seeing that they were coming back, most of them. In front jogged the guy with the saber. He didn’t have a happy look on his face. Neither did I, I felt sure of that. Because the ten or so reinforcements he’d hidden behind the hill had now joined the rest. Close to twenty angry armed men were running at us, guns raised to fire.

  “Time to go, I think,” I muttered.

  “Wise decision, Venerable Savior of Mankind,” Jasper snickered. “They don’t look like they’re about to export any love in your direction.”

  I didn’t bother answering. I was already sprinting for the house. Raising the sword to my lips, it became a large bugle just as I started blowing. A raggedy but fierce-loud cavalry call blared through the still Virginia night. That made me glad I’d watched so many army drills around Washington City. After doing it a second time, I chanced a look over my shoulder. My pursuers had stopped, expecting horsemen to charge them. When that didn’t happen, they commenced their advance again. Oh, well. It’d bought me a few extra steps. And maybe Tyrell and Romulus were awake now.

  With Jasper now covering my back as a shield again, I swerved to the back of the house. If Tyrell started shooting, I didn’t want to be in his line of fire. I knew he had the one pistol and his sword. He might have more weapons on his saddle that I hadn’t seen, but that still didn’t change the fact that the odds, with Romulus, were still seven-to-one. And though I might’ve been able to take down quite a few if left to myself, I didn’t dare risk showing Morphageus to Tyrell until I knew for certain whose side he was on. No good winning a battle just to have a horde of Bullies show up at his call, if he turned out to be a Merchantry agent.

  My change of direction proved a good decision. No sooner had I darted to my right than a swarm of leaden bees slammed into the side of the house. It sounded like someone with an enormous arm had thrown a handful of rocks against the hardwood panels. Glass flew everywhere from a shattered window. Whoa! Close! Run, run, run! I skidded around the corner of the house, noticing that Alcibiades had disappeared. Did Tyrell run off and leave us? Or did the musket volley spook his mount? Not likely, since he was a war horse. But in my experience, the bravest horses could still shy at their own shadows for no earthly reason.

  A kick opened the back door for me while I used both hands to pull the shield from my back and make a cup out of it. You’re innocent cowardly little Mary Williams, remember. No magick, no fightin’ unless there’s no choice left. I shrieked like the dainty girls at school would do whenever they saw a bug. Just because I was a tomboy didn’t mean I couldn’t be girlie when it suited me.

  “Cap’n! Cap’n! Help!” I screeched, the door not yet closed behind me. As if he were a genie I’d just called by rubbing the lamp, the Reb officer appeared at the other end of the kitchen. Unlike a genie, he didn’t seem ready to do my bidding.

  He pointed his giant pistol right at my face.

  It was like staring into a railroad tunnel. Any second I’d see the bright light of the locomotive. Then I wouldn’t see anything else. Oh, you’re stupid, Verity Sauveur. Dumb, dumb, dumb! Delivered yourself right to ‘em you did. Figuring secrecy didn’t matter much now, I started to bring up the cup to make a shield of it, but it was too late. My eardrums split with the pistol’s crack before my hand got halfway up. Teeth gritted and shoulders hunched, I waited for the end.

  The end came, but not for me. Tyrell
had fired over my shoulder at a target behind me. Thick white smoke wrapped around my head as I felt the bullet zizz past my left ear. Somebody gurgled near the back door and fell heavily against the jamb. The captain dashed past me, blazed away at someone else, then slammed the door. After throwing the bolt he ran back toward the parlor, grabbing me by my coat collar. Half-dragging me with him, he growled, “Are you mad, girl? What did you do to bring them down on us?”

  I shook myself loose and crouched in a corner. “Nothin’, sir. I was only makin’ my sentry rounds like you told me to. They commenced to rushin’ the house just as soon as I turned the corner.”

  “Well, we’re in for it now. Must be almost a whole platoon out there. They won’t try the back door for a bit, not with two men down on their first try. They’ll go for the other door, or more likely a window. We can’t watch them all. If they assault several places at once then we’re done for. Have to hope we guess right and make them pay dear for whatever choice they make.”

  Romulus kept watch at the front door, which stood open a tiny crack. He lay on his belly, peering out across the front lawn. “Nothin’ this way yet, sir.”

  Tyrell reloaded his gun, which I now recognized as a LeMat revolver, using the ramrod built onto it. I’d seen one displayed by a Union sergeant once. He’d taken it off a dead grayback, or so he claimed. They were the only ones who tended to use them. It held nine .44 caliber bullets, bad news for any renegades who got close. If Tyrell stayed patient and picked his shots with care he could cut our attackers down to half-strength in a hurry. But I doubted that these seasoned fighters would be foolish enough to rush through a doorway and let him mow them down. My ears told me that they were coming from at least three different directions now.

  Pulling a small blued pistol out of his boot, he handed it to me butt-first. A four-shot pepperbox, it was scarcely larger than my palm. It amounted to a revolver with no barrel. After every shot you had to turn the thing to line up the next chamber. No accuracy at all, I’d heard, unless you jammed it right up against somebody, but better than nothing, especially since I couldn’t use Morphageus.