I flew at him. He saw me coming, and the frown of concentration dropped from his face. But by the time he could see the fury in my eyes, I had my hands around his collar.
“Traitor!” I screamed. “Murderer!”
“Hey!” He pried my hands from his neck and pulled me away from him. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“How could you betray your own people?” I shouted, my face hot as a red coal. “When you know they haven’t done a thing!”
Tom’s face paled, but he kept a scowl. “You calm yourself down right now.”
But I couldn’t. My rage surged on, fueled by the sorrow I’d been trying so hard not to face, the sorrow of losing Landon and Bobby and Adelaide, and the dream of living together as a family in some new place. Sorrow at the unspeakable injustice of Yahn hanging to cover up an evil man’s lies. The tempest inside engulfed me. I was swept away in the sudden, furious current of it.
“I won’t calm down!”
The men around us stared. They cast looks at Tom, wondering if he was going to do something about the crazed female raising such a ruckus. Scowling, Tom dragged me behind the bar.
“Take your dirty hands off me,” I shouted, punching him with my free arm. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”
“Then don’t be,” he barked. He flung me into the back room. “You stay in here and cool the hell off. I don’t want to see you out there until you’re calm.”
“Innocent people will die because of you, Tom. Your people.”
His face was stone. “They ain’t my people anymore.”
“They are! And you’ve sentenced them to death for something they didn’t do.”
Tom’s eyes blazed. “You don’t understand. It’s easy for you to get all high and mighty. You never had to…” He choked back his words. “You’d be different if you knew.”
“If I knew what?”
He said nothing, and his cryptic behavior only made me more furious.
I glared at him. “I don’t know how you can stand here with not even the decency to care.”
“Caring won’t stop it, Maggie. People are mad as hellfire, and this war is gonna come one way or another. Innocent people will die no matter how you slice it. If you were smart, you’d know what side to be standing on when it all starts. On the side that’s gonna win.”
With that, he stomped out of the back room, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving me alone in the darkness. I was fit to explode. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to chase after Tom and pound him with my fists. I wanted to sob and shout and let the whole world shatter at the sound of my rage.
Fierce tears burned down my cheeks. I knew it wasn’t really Tom I was angry at. It was the sheer, unavoidable failure my life had become in spite of everything I’d done. Lord knows how hard I’d tried to make something out of the ashes the Haydenville fire had left me in. And yet somehow, there I sat with nothing. Landon dead. Adelaide broken. Ella trapped in the gilded grip of Álvar Castilla, possibly in real danger. And now Yahn, the one person who gave me hope, set to hang at sunset. I gripped my face in my hands, sobbing into the dust and sand. Why? Why didn’t I let the fire burn me that night? Wouldn’t it have been better?
Feeling dizzy, I sat up and leaned my head against the wall. Wiping my eyes, I held my hand in front of my face. Tears glistened on my fingertips. So many tears. I stared at my hand, and a strange feeling started to flicker inside me. A flame in the center of my heart.
No more tears. I was sick to death of tears. I knew right then and there that I was done being sad and angry. I was through mourning. My troubles hadn’t gone anywhere—they were still as bad as ever—but in that moment I knew I was going to do something about it. That was my mistake from the beginning—I’d been trying to avoid problems at every turn. I’d been too busy trying to keep my head down and survive and hope the troubles wouldn’t find me.
But they had. And now it was time to turn and face them head on.
I rose to my feet, a strong, fierce pulse beating through my body. Landon might be dead, but Ella was still very much alive. And Yahn hadn’t hung yet. He wouldn’t hang. He couldn’t. I wouldn’t let it happen.
My breath came fast and hard. I needed a plan. Something miraculous. Something magical. I thought of the powerful red relic and cursed myself for allowing Connelly to steal it. It was the only magic I could get my hands on.
But then, like a shot of lightning, I realized that wasn’t true. Landon’s goblin belt: I’d left it in Adelaide’s room. It should still be there under her bed. Unless Connelly had gotten to that, too.
I bolted into the saloon. The men around me, the chaos, all blended into nothing. I could only see the stairs, the hallway, and then Adelaide’s room. Panting, I flung open the doors. She was nowhere to be seen, but there wasn’t time to look for her. Diving for the bed, I ran my hands over the cool wood floor beneath it. There it was, the thick leather belt with the gleaming gray-green relic on the buckle. Emotion choked my throat as I pressed it to my heart.
Thank you, Landon.
Sunset.
The streets of Burning Mesa stood eerily empty in the golden light. A low wind whistled over the open spaces, tossing a brittle tumbleweed across the road. If I listened hard enough, I could hear the distant murmur of the mob. They rallied around the gallows, waiting, hungry for their first taste of revenge.
I moved unseen along the walkways, keeping one hand on the goblin relic, just in case. My chest clamped up with tension, making it hard to breathe. At least my legs felt strong, thanks to the earth magic of the goblin piece. I headed to the sheriff’s office with a determined step, the road spreading before me in a sure path.
The door to the office stood open, and I had exactly what I needed for my plan to work. I had to try. I had to.
Drawing in a trembling breath, I slipped the shoes from my feet to move more quietly and stepped forward. The rangers were planning the transportation of the prisoners to the gallows.
The bald ranger who had been so rude to me led the group. “Mitch and Avery, you two watch this north ridge here. We don’t want any chance of an ambush. Cobbs, Delgado, you’re gonna be on East Street.”
“Who’s driving the prisoners?”
“Jake and me.”
“That’s not many rangers.”
“It’ll be enough, if you men do your jobs. We got six men with the sheriff at the gallows right now, keepin’ a handle on the crowd.”
I stepped closer. Sweat beaded on my temples, on my upper lip, and my legs shook so hard I was afraid I’d fall down. But as I silently edged past the men, no one looked up. I eyed the open door, knowing the hardest part was yet to come.
The rangers started talking about crowd control during the hanging. I stood right by the door, my back to the wood face of the building, my pulse racing. The cluster of men was so close, I could feel their body heat. If one of them had stretched, he would have touched me. I closed my eyes as sweat streaked down my face, tickling my skin. But I was so close. If they would stay out on the deck for a few more minutes, my crazy plan might actually work.
Holding my breath, I slipped into the office. A tense glance around revealed a bit of luck: the office was empty. Trembling, I rushed to Sheriff Leander’s desk—I knew he kept important items there. Sure enough, three dark iron keys lay in the top drawer. I grabbed all of them and held them tightly in my fist. Then, shooting a look to the men out front, I steeled my courage and tiptoed down the hallway to the holding cell.
Yahn and the other Apaches sat stone still on the benches in the cell, eyes closed. At first I thought they might be sleeping, but then I heard the low murmur of their voices. They were praying to the Sacred Ones. Preparing for death.
My heart aching, I pulled the goblin belt from my waist. “Yahn.”
He looked up with a start. Seeing me, his eyes widened with confusion and shock. “Maggie?”
The other two Apaches eyed me with mistrust.
�
��We don’t have much time,” I whispered, rushing forward. I pressed the keys into Yahn’s hand. “Take these. But don’t use them right now. Wait until they’re transporting you in the prisoners’ wagon. I can buy you one, maybe two minutes to get out.”
Yahn blinked, looking even more confused than before. I squeezed his hand in mine. The act filled me with a pulsing, fierce surge of emotion. He had to live. I needed him to live.
“Please trust me. I’ll have horses waiting for you by the river. Near the stables. They should take you right past them on the way to the gallows.”
“Maggie—”
“There’s no time. Keep those keys hidden. Your life depends on it.”
Yahn’s eyes burned with intensity. “Thank you.”
“Thank me when the plan actually works.” I shot a look down the hall, sure one of the rangers would appear any second. “I have to go. Remember, don’t try to get out of the carriage until you hear me. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”
I pulled the belt back around my waist. My throat swelled, and I could barely speak. “Be careful, Yahn.”
As much as I wanted to stay longer, I knew I had to hightail it out of there. The rangers would be coming for their prisoners any minute. As I rushed back down the hall, my heart pounded, but this time from exhilaration.
I spun around the corner, into the office. Two men stood by Sheriff Leander’s desk—Jake and the bald ranger. They were both staring at the open drawer. The drawer I had left open after taking the keys.
I stifled a gasp, and the bald ranger’s face shot up. His eyes went right to me.
Chapter Thirty-two
“You hear that?”
I pressed my hand over my mouth, shaking like a leaf. They can’t see me, I told myself. They can’t see me. But the bald ranger looked awfully suspicious.
“Probably them Apaches,” Jake said, shrugging. “They’ve been prayin’ to their gods all day.”
The bald ranger narrowed his eyes but then slammed the desk drawer shut. “Anyway, guess Leander took the keys,” he said. “We’ll have to use the other set.”
“Want me to bring the wagon around?”
The bald ranger nodded. When Jake left, he opened the drawer again, frowning. I pressed my back to the wall, sidestepping to the door slowly as possible. I wanted to get out of there quickly as I could. But I knew I had to move silent, slow and still. Everything depended on it.
I could hardly believe it as my bare feet came down on the hot sand of the open street. Somehow I’d made it. Air rushed back in my lungs, and I clutched my chest as I ran down the road. The first part of my plan had worked. Now for the next phase. I ran to Mr. Connelly’s personal stables fast as my feet could carry me.
Connelly had assigned me the task of grooming his horses many times when I worked at The Desert Rose. I’d resented the extra jobs, but now I was grateful as I pulled the key to the stables from under the hidden rock. I nearly scared the horses half to death while approaching, but once I’d stashed the goblin relic belt in my apron pocket, saddling and stealing three of Connelly’s stallions went off without a hitch.
After tying them to a mesquite tree by the river, I rushed to my hiding spot back in town. The wagon would drive by any moment. If the plan was going to work, I’d need to have perfect timing. And the perfect distraction.
I looked down at my dress, wrinkled and damp with sweat. My hair was a wild tangle of a braid. I grimaced and smoothed my skirt best as I could, then I pulled my hair free and long. And since this was no time to be prim, I unfastened the top two buttons of my blouse. If Adelaide had taught me anything, it was that a man didn’t think too clearly when he had the sight of a woman’s bosom. Biting my lip, I undid one more button.
The tromp of horse hooves shot me to attention. After a moment, I could hear the creak of a wood wagon. Trembling, I closed my eyes and forced myself to think about Landon, about Ella and Bobby and Adelaide. I had to succeed.
The prison wagon rolled into sight. Jake and the bald ranger sat on the front bench, scanning the landscape. I drew in a breath and jumped to my feet.
“Help!” I ran out into the road, waving my arms like a crazed woman and screaming. “Someone help!”
The horses reared up on their hind legs, whinnying as I stumbled right into their path.
“Help me! Please!”
Jake jerked on the reins. “Whoa! Easy there!”
The horses stamped their feet to a stop. Gasping for breath, I threw myself at the rangers’ feet. “Help me.”
Jake frowned. “Maggie? What’s wrong?”
“It’s too horrible,” I said, covering my face and trying to catch my breath. “It’s just too horrible.”
Through the sliver of space between my fingers, I glanced at the ground beneath the wagon. I saw the feet of Yahn and the other warriors creeping away from the carriage, and a dual jolt of terror and triumph cut through me. Luckily, the crazed look on my face played well into my plan.
I grabbed Jake’s hands. “Some men at The Desert Rose, they’re planning to kill the sheriff!”
The bald ranger tensed. “What?”
“I heard them talking. They’re gonna kill him so he doesn’t get in the way of their attack on the Apache camp. I didn’t know what to do!”
Jake and the bald ranger exchanged a serious look.
“Who was it?” Jake said. “Did you know them, Maggie?”
Acting like I was trying to remember, I cast a swift glance beneath the wagon again. Yahn and the others were running, getting farther and farther away. A cry of relief threatened to escape, but I swallowed it down.
“I don’t remember. I was so afraid.”
The bald ranger frowned. He tossed a casual look behind him, perhaps out of habit, or maybe the man had eyes in the back of his head. He turned back to me, but then tensed like he’d been shot. He spun around again and surely spotted them.
“What in the hell?” He shot to his feet.
Horror nailed me to the ground. I glanced at the escaping prisoners, then the rangers. I must have looked like a woman caught in the act, because comprehension washed over the bald ranger’s face. “Did you—?”
I ran.
I knew I didn’t stand a chance of escaping, but I wasn’t going to throw up my hands and turn myself in, either. Besides, if I could distract their attention from Yahn and the other Apaches’ getaway, it would be worth it.
The rangers shouted behind me. I could hear them scrambling to turn the carriage around, though the horses were screaming again, spooked by the sudden commotion.
“You get the girl!” the bald ranger screamed to Jake. Jake jumped from the carriage, and his heavy footsteps pounded behind me.
Tiny rocks and burs cut my feet as I ran, but I kept going. I’d never run so hard in my entire life. It felt as if my heart would explode out of my chest.
“Maggie!” Jake shouted behind me. He was winded, but so close. So close. “Stop!” He lunged forward to tackle me, but he was a few inches too far behind, so his hands only fastened around my skirt and apron. With a shout, he went tumbling forward. The skirt tore, and the apron ripped from my waist, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet.
Still running at full speed, I dared a look behind me. Jake growled with frustration and struggled to get back up. My apron lay limp in his clenched fist. The goblin relic belt—it was still in the pocket. The sharp impulse to turn back and get it surged through me, but I shook the thought away. I had to keep running.
“Maggie!” Jake called. “What in the hell are you doing?”
The wind in my eyes blurred my vision, but I kept running. I didn’t know what I was doing. Hopefully, buying Yahn more time to escape.
“I don’t want to have to shoot you!” Jake shouted. He was running again, drawing closer and closer.
My lungs burned like a cattle brander in my chest. My head pounded, and the muscles in my legs started to lock up. I flailed down a narrow alleyway crowded with empty wood crates.
Ahead of me, a four-foot wall glared in the late sunlight. The end of the road. My heart sank. I tried, Yahn.
Jake tromped into the alley, gasping for breath.
“Dammit, Maggie.” He sighed, and I heard the dragon claw relic on his rifle click into place. “Put your hands up where I can see them.”
My head dropped, and I lifted my arms into the air.
Suddenly, the whinny of a horse sounded behind me, and a row of crates crashed in a spectacular burst of splinters. I whirled around. Yahn, on a midnight-black horse, dashed past Jake, smashing the rows of crates as he went. Before I had time to even tell myself the sight was real, Yahn swooped his arms around my waist and pulled me onto the horse behind him.
Jake, who had been knocked backward by the falling crates, shouted with rage. And then an earsplitting explosion of fire blasted behind us.
“Get down!” Yahn cried.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I clamped my arms around his strong waist. The flames from Jake’s dragon-claw rifle filled the entire alleyway with light and heat, and fire slashed over my bare feet, singeing the ends of my hair and my dress. Every crate in that alley burst into flames.
The horse screamed with terror, but Yahn jabbed his ankles into the animal’s haunches and pulled back on the reins.
In slow motion, the horse leaped at the four-foot wall ahead of us. It kicked into the air, flailing with all its might. The wall sped toward us. We were going to hit. I screamed and buried my face against Yahn’s back.
But then we were airborne.
For a single glistening moment, we soared through the air on unseen falcon wings. We flew over the wall, beyond the mass of flames, beyond Jake’s yells as he ran from the burning alleyway. The horse landed on the other side with a thud. It whinnied once and thrashed its head, but Yahn smacked the animal’s side and made a strange, fierce cry. With that, the stallion galloped forward. I clung to Yahn as we raced into the desert beyond Burning Mesa. To the Alkali Mountains. To safety.
Relic Page 26