Lex Trent: Fighting With Fire

by Alex Bell

  Jeremiah glared at him. ‘I think there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for the sake of a scam! You’re a blaggard and a rogue! You don’t care about anyone but yourself and you’re quite happy to lie shamelessly in people’s faces to get what you want! I saw how you did it at the Majestic when you had everyone believing Jesse was really dead. Even I thought you were grieving! So forgive me if I don’t fall for the same trick twice, but I know what an excellent actor you are and I’d bet money on the fact that the state you’re in now is due to nothing more than careful planning, good make-up and fine acting.’

  And with that, Jeremiah lunged out his hand and knocked the dried blood from Lex’s temple, clearly expecting it to flake away to reveal ordinary skin beneath. Instead, he simply re-opened the gash and it started bleeding again.

  Lex did not need to act this time. Jeremiah’s clumsy fingers had made contact with the most sensitive part of his already-sore head. If his headache had been bad before, that touch almost seemed to split his head in two. He pushed Jeremiah away with one hand whilst jerking the other up to clamp over his temple, warm blood trickling through his fingers as he groaned in pain.

  When he was able to see something other than stars again, he glared up at Jeremiah and said, ‘Are you completely deranged? Did your mother drop you on your head one too many times as a baby? What the heck’s the matter with you?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jeremiah replied. ‘I honestly thought you were putting on an act.’

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘Well, obviously, I can see that now!’ Jeremiah said, looking quite peeved. ‘But you only have yourself to blame! When you walk around fibbing all the time about everything, you can’t be surprised when people don’t believe you on the odd occasion when you are telling the truth!’

  ‘Whatever!’ Lex replied sourly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and try to save Jesse from the mess you’ve landed him in. No doubt it’ll be futile and we’ll both end up dead, but I’m sure that’ll please you no end.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous!’ Jeremiah said. ‘Naturally, I’ll help you rescue Jesse.’

  ‘You’ll what?’ Lex frowned. He knew the nobleman felt guilty, but he hadn’t realised he felt that guilty.

  ‘This is your fault,’ Jeremiah said firmly. ‘Not mine. If you hadn’t lied and cheated your way into Dry Gulch House then Jesse wouldn’t be in the predicament he’s in now. So don’t think you’ve managed to guilt me into anything. But he did do Tess a great service back on the Scurleyshoo Death and I owe him for that. So I’ll help you.’

  Well, two rescuers were better than one. And, if anyone shot at them, Lex could always use Jeremiah as a human shield.

  ‘What’s your plan?’ the nobleman asked.

  ‘First we need to steal that hearse,’ Lex said, pointing across the street to the undertaker’s. ‘Do you think you can distract them long enough for me to get Sally hitched to the wagon?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE HANGING

  Jeremiah was not overly happy about stealing the hearse, but he went along with it, anyway. Lex had had a lot of practice at hitching horses to wagons back at the farm he’d grown up on, and even knew how to adapt an ordinary saddle to the task. He was therefore able to do it extremely fast and the undertaker didn’t suspect a thing until it was too late, distracted as he was by Jeremiah’s posh voice and shiny buttons − for wealthy clients meant expensive coffins and thus a larger-than-usual ham to take home to the dinner table. Once Jeremiah saw that Lex was ready, he made his excuses, left the shop and leapt up on to the cart alongside the thief, who flicked the reins to get Sally moving forwards. She soon picked up quite a pace and − aside from a bit of shouting and name-calling from the undertaker − they made a clean getaway.

  ‘You stink of fish,’ Jeremiah said, once they were clear of the town. ‘Why the heck are you carrying those trout around like that, anyway?’

  ‘Er . . .’ Lex looked down at the battered trout still in his hand. He could hardly tell Jeremiah that he had them because a giant, talking fox had told him to get them. He’d sound nuts. He found it difficult to believe, now, that he had actually gone to the kitchens and demanded a pair of smoked trout. Clearly he hadn’t been thinking straight. Really, it was a wonder he’d got out of that house alive.

  ‘Never mind,’ Lex said, stuffing the fish into his bag. ‘It’s not important.’

  ‘So, what’s the plan, exactly?’ Jeremiah asked.

  ‘Well, we’ll ride in, pretending to be there for the body, obviously,’ Lex replied.

  ‘But the coffin’s got the name Clint Davis written on it on a little brass plaque,’ Jeremiah pointed out.

  ‘Oh well; I’m sure they won’t notice,’ Lex said carelessly. ‘And even if they do, I bet most of them can’t read. Once we’re there, maybe you can cause a diversion whilst I get Jesse.’

  ‘Me? What am I supposed to do?’

  ‘I don’t know; use your imagination. Do a cartwheel or something.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Let’s just concentrate on getting there, all right?’ Lex said. ‘We’ll worry about the rest later.’

  Time had got away from Lex in the town. There was only an hour to go until noon. If Jesse was going to switch them, then he’d probably do it when the noose was actually around his neck and he was on the very verge of being hanged. He wouldn’t want Lex to have time to talk his way out of it, after all.

  Lex urged Sally to go faster along the dusty track, past the cactuses and tumbleweed, praying that the directions he’d been given were accurate. He could see the huge rock formations the farmers had mentioned and, after about twenty minutes, he slowed the cart down to go around one and was profoundly relieved, on turning the corner, to see a little gaggle of cowboys grouped around a tree, right where the farmers had said they would be.

  They turned to glance at the advancing cart, which Lex forced himself to keep slow, so as not to arouse suspicion. The cowboys watched its approach warily. Lex counted six of them. And a mean looking bunch they were, too − big, brutish and clearly unfamiliar with the concept of regular bathing. Their horses were standing nearby, and Lex instantly spotted Rusty a little to one side.

  And there − balancing with some difficulty on a wooden stake − was Jesse with a noose around his neck. The rope was just short enough and the noose was just tight enough to make the cowboy extremely uncomfortable. It was cutting into his neck and causing red welts to rise up on his skin. Really, Jesse was being half-hanged already. The area he had to stand on was extremely small − it was only because he had such a good sense of balance that he hadn’t fallen off yet, especially seeing as his hands were tied behind his back. But he couldn’t keep it up all day. And as soon as he fell off that stake, the rope would go taut and that would be that. He looked positively astonished at the sight of the approaching wagon but Lex couldn’t work out whether that was because he was pleased to see them or dismayed.

  ‘What is this?’ one of the cowboys demanded as soon as the wagon ground to a halt. ‘Why have you come here?’

  ‘We’ve come for the body,’ Lex replied blithely. ‘Can’t have it lying around stinking up the place. Not in this heat.’

  The sun beat down upon them quite relentlessly. Lex wished he had his hat, but it had come off when the chandelier had fallen on him. Flies, drawn out by the heat, buzzed around his face and he had to keep swatting them away.

  ‘Never bothered anyone before. Besides, you don’t look like undertakers. Especially that one—’ one of the cowboys began, gesturing towards Jeremiah and his expensive coat and posh haircut.

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Lex replied in an impatient voice. ‘Obviously we’re not undertakers! Don’t be so daft! We stole this hearse. I have a personal vendetta against that man,’ Lex said, pointing an emphatic finger at Jesse. ‘He stole from me and then left me for dead.’

  ‘Aw, come on, kid, it was only a little knock on the head, after all—’ Jesse began in rather a strang
led voice − the noose clearly making it painful for him to speak.

  ‘Shut up!’ Lex snapped. Turning back to the cowboys he said, ‘I want the satisfaction of seeing that bastard hanged and then − if you don’t object − I’d like the body. I’d be happy to pay you for it, of course.’

  That caused a pleased smile to spread across their faces. ‘Sure,’ one said, ‘we’ll sell him to you. He’d only be wasted on the vultures, otherwise.’

  Jeremiah leaned closer and hissed in Lex’s ear, ‘Just what sort of rescue is this?’

  Lex nudged him hard in the ribs to shut him up.

  ‘Look, fellas,’ Jesse said hoarsely, starting to sound rather desperate. ‘Ain’t there some way we can work this out?’

  ‘No, there ain’t, you good-for-nothin’ double-crosser! If you’ve got any final prayers, say ’em now, because your time in this world is done.’

  ‘Lex—’ Jeremiah tried once again.

  ‘Sshh!’

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ one of the cowboys asked, staring at the nobleman.

  ‘Him? Oh, he just . . . he just heard this rumour, that’s all.’

  ‘What rumour?’

  Lex rolled his eyes and said, ‘Some nonsense about that half-wit -’ he pointed at Jesse − ‘learning some sort of dark magic on a library tree during the Game that we’ve been playing.’

  ‘Say, I heard he was in a Game,’ one of the cowboys said. ‘How about it, Jesse? Are you gonna curse us all a hundred times over before we hang ya?’

  ‘I was with him the whole time on that tree,’ Lex said firmly. ‘Almost the whole time, anyway. He didn’t see any magical secrets. And even if he did, he wouldn’t have the sense to know how to use them. Hang him. Go on. Do it now. What are you waiting for? I want him dead!’

  ‘Lex,’ Jesse croaked. Lex turned his head to meet his eye. There was a beseeching look in the cowboy’s face that was almost painful. ‘Please . . .’

  With his face set like stone, Lex looked at Jesse and said coldly, ‘I told you − more than once − that there would be consequences if you crossed me. Well, you crossed me. And now you’re going to pay for it.’

  ‘This is outrageous!’ Jeremiah exclaimed standing up. ‘I won’t stand by and watch a man being killed in cold blood—’

  He broke off as Lex gripped his wrist and yanked him back down. ‘Close your eyes, then!’ he snapped.

  ‘Any last words, Jesse?’ one of the cowboys grinned.

  ‘When I say “go”,’ Lex whispered urgently in Jeremiah’s ear, pressing the reins into his hand, ‘whip the horse up as fast as you can. Doesn’t matter which direction. Just get the cart out of here.’

  Then he hopped down on to the ground, as if he wanted to get a closer view of the imminent hanging. As casually as he could, he moved a little closer towards Rusty.

  ‘Yeah, I got some last words,’ Jesse said, glaring ferociously at Lex. ‘You just better hope this rope don’t break, you little brat, because if it does then I’ll be coming straight for you, soon as I’ve finished with these guys.’

  ‘Brave words for a man what’s strung up by his neck,’ one of the cowboys laughed. ‘Shame you ain’t gettin’ outta this in one piece. Not this time. This is for double-crossin’ us. I sure hope it was worth it.’

  And − with that − the cowboy kicked the stake out from beneath Jesse’s feet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THE GREAT ESCAPE

  The red Swann was already in Lex’s hand and he started to mutter the wish under his breath as fast as he could the moment the cowboy’s leg moved towards the wooden stake, praying to the Gods all the while that the name on the coffin was correct.

  ‘I wish that Jesse Layton and Clint Davis would change places!’

  To those watching, it seemed that, at the very moment the noose tightened around Jesse’s neck, the cowboy disappeared and some fat bloke appeared in his place, dangling lifelessly at the end of the rope. Everyone stared. Some yelled in fright. Others reached for their pistols. After all, nothing protects you from a swinging fat man like a few rounds of bullets.

  Lex shouted, ‘Go!’ and positively vaulted on to Rusty’s back. Jeremiah whipped up the horse with such zeal that the wagon shot straight towards the open desert. Lex paused just long enough to shout, ‘It’s all true! Jesse Layton has become a sorcerer! He’ll see us all dead for this!’

  Then he dug in his heels and raced after the wagon. As he did so, he could just see, out of the corner of his eye, many of the other cowboys scattering towards their own horses, setting off in random directions in their haste to be away from the most unnatural hanging any of them had ever had the misfortune to witness.

  They’d been riding for quite some time before Lex finally slowed Rusty down to a halt. In the blistering heat, such a mad-dash ride was extremely unpleasant. Lex’s shirt was clinging to him and he was so thirsty that his throat burned and itched like he’d been drinking sand. Jeremiah stopped the wagon beside Lex and looked over at him with a slightly wild expression on his face as he said, ‘What in the world just happened back there? Where’s Jesse? Is he in the coffin? Is he all right?’

  ‘I dunno,’ Lex replied. ‘Let’s ask him.’ He slid off Rusty’s back, then clambered up on to the back of the wagon, thumped on the wooden lid of the coffin and said loudly, ‘Hey, Jesse! Are you in there and, if so, are you all right?’

  ‘Let me outta this thing!’ Came the muffled response. ‘I feel like I’m being cooked! And it stinks like the bejesus, too!’

  ‘For Gods’ sake, Lex, let him out!’ Jeremiah said.

  ‘First things first,’ Lex replied firmly. He rapped on the lid of the coffin again and said, ‘What did you do with my sword?’

  ‘Sword?’ Jeremiah said. ‘What sword?’

  ‘Here’s the deal, Jesse,’ Lex said calmly. ‘You’re not getting out of this coffin until I say so. And, believe me, I’ll see you buried in it before I let you out without getting my sword back first.’

  There was a long moment of silence before Jesse’s voice came out reluctantly. ‘Rusty’s got it, dammit. Didn’t have time to do anything with it. It’s in one of the saddlebags.’

  Lex hopped off the wagon and went straight over to Rusty. Inside the larger saddlebag he did, indeed, find the sword, along with his black Swann.

  ‘Lex, what the heck just happened back there?’ Jeremiah demanded. ‘How did you manage to switch them like that?’

  ‘I’m a great magician,’ Lex replied, transferring the Swann to his pocket and the sword to his bag which, being magical, easily accommodated it.

  ‘What is that black swan?’ Jeremiah asked. ‘It looks like our Dragons. And that sword, Lex − where did you get it?’

  Lex ignored the questions and went back to the coffin to undo the brass clasps and let Jesse out before he could be cooked to a crisp.

  ‘You wretched little brat! I’ll get you for this!’ were the first words out of the cowboy’s mouth.

  He sat up in the coffin, looking hot, sweaty and dishevelled. An angry red mark ran all the way around his neck. It looked extremely painful, which pleased Lex. Even though Jesse hadn’t actually been responsible for the blow Lex had taken to the head, he felt a bit of resentment towards him for it, anyway.

  ‘Get me for what?’ Lex replied carelessly. ‘Saving your life? You ought to be thanking me!’

  ‘You cut it too fine!’ Jesse snarled. ‘I almost had my neck wrung like a turkey whilst you were pratting about making your little performance!’

  ‘The performance is important, you simpleton!’ Lex replied. ‘Otherwise they might have thought I had something to do with your miraculous escape. They needed to believe I wanted you dead. Besides, don’t you think you ought to be more careful how you talk to me? Don’t forget that it’s me who’s really the sorcerer, not you!’

  ‘If you’re a sorcerer then I’m a blinkin’ ballerina!’ Jesse growled. ‘You ain’t no magician! You’re just a kid with a few magic Swanns
!’

  ‘Magic Swanns?’ Jeremiah repeated. ‘What the heck are they?’

  ‘They grant wishes, or something,’ Jesse replied. ‘That’s how he did it.’

  ‘Well, whatever! I still saved your neck, you ungrateful wretch! After you stole from me, too, and left me for dead!’

  ‘Did I heck!’ Jesse scoffed. ‘It was only a little crack on the head. I’ve had worse and lived to tell the tale. So, yeah, I took the sword. But I only did exactly what you’d have done in my place.’

  ‘That may be,’ Lex replied in a voice of ice. ‘The difference is that I wouldn’t have got caught! I heroically, selflessly, save your life and then you actually have the nerve to lecture me about the way I went about it! All right, so I let you sweat a bit first but you ought to consider yourself lucky that I saved you at all!’