Ling’s jaw worked. “Are you intending to use this weapon?”
“Only if I have to.” She held the revolver grip out to him, but he didn’t take it. “Can you tell me anything else about it?”
“I’m not certain. Magic generally can’t enchant metal, but I’m sensing energies coming off all parts of it, the barrel included. That leads me to think it’s a Kukulos mage gun. They’re the only ones who’ve had any success at crossing magic and machine. You understand the price of blood magic, don’t you?”
Hettie nodded, yet she couldn’t find any disgust for the weapon in her hands. It was beautiful—hardly something she would have thought had been forged using the blood of innocents. “So if this is a mage gun…”
“It uses energy from its wielder as its ammunition. Its conduit is blood.”
That explained the thorn. She grazed the tip gently—it left a light scratch on the pad of her index finger. “You said there are other weapons like this?”
“I’ve never seen one before, but yes, there are others. Since blood magic is outlawed just about everywhere, they’re not readily available. Besides, it takes a powerful sorcerer to infuse a man-made metal weapon with any amount of magic.” He hesitated. “Maybe you should put it away.”
She hadn’t realized how tightly she was holding the thing. She couldn’t deny that she wanted to test it out. But if anyone were looking for them, firing off a gun in the middle of the night was the surest way to be found. She stuffed the revolver into her coat pocket. “We should get some rest.” She propped herself up against Jezebel’s saddle. “Come morning, I’ll drop you off at the nearest friendly farm. Maybe you can find work there until you can earn carriage fare back to Newhaven. No one’s looking for you as far as I know.”
“And what are your plans?”
“I need to speak with Teddy. Then I’ll have to find someone who can help me track Abby down.”
Ling rubbed his chin. “The way I see it, you’ve already found someone.” He smiled briefly. “You’ve saved my life twice now. It’s only fair I repay you for at least one of those lives.”
She suppressed a frown. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t take you with me.”
“My honor requires it. The wilds are no place for a young woman to be traveling alone. If your father knew I let you go on this quest by yourself, he would haunt me to the end of my days.”
“My father’s dead, and he won’t be coming back.” Her snapped-out words startled them both. Hettie rubbed the tip of her nose. Ling probably thought she was grieving, but all Hettie felt was anger at that hole in her emotions.
Ling suddenly dropped to one knee and clasped his hands above his bowed head. “Please let me help find Abby, Miss Hettie,” he said fervently. “Your father was a decent man who treated me, a lowly Chinaman, with dignity and respect. Please give me the honor of avenging him.”
“Don’t be bowing and scraping before me like that.” Hettie yanked him to his feet. “Pa hated that coming from anybody.”
“I take my debts seriously. I owe you and your family. I will help you find Abby. I’ll follow you on foot if I have to.”
She glanced down at his bootless feet. He must have left his footwear back at Boss Smythe’s place, too. And while she appreciated his sentiment, a shoeless Eastern healer wasn’t exactly the bounty hunter she was hoping for. Besides, she couldn’t waltz back into Hawksville dragging him along.
She knew she’d have a hard time convincing him of that, though. Maybe he’d be useful—he’d knocked out Walker Woodroffe, after all. And he was a healer. Abby might need him.
“All right. At least for now. Until I have other plans…”
He bowed very slightly. “I will serve you loyally.”
“Stop with the lowly coolie act. I know just as well as Pa did that you only did that to mock people.”
“I wouldn’t think to mock you, Miss Hettie.” He nodded at her arm. “Let me start by healing that wound. I’d rather do it now and sleep off the night. Now that the bleeding has stopped, it won’t take as much out of me.”
Hettie hesitated but then slipped her arm out of the shirt sleeve so Ling could look at it. Standing in the open air half naked in front of a man was not how she’d pictured her day going, but nothing about the past few weeks had been particularly normal.
Ling’s fingers were cool on her skin as he removed the bandage and delicately probed the cut. He grasped her a little tighter, and she looked away as he began muttering a spell in soft, throaty syllables.
Hettie knew it was stupid to be afraid of Ling’s abilities. But the stories she’d heard from the other kids at school came back as heat flooded her. She squeezed her eyes shut when a soft white light flashed up from her shoulder. Don’t look, or you’ll lose your soul…
The throbbing of the wound dulled to an ache. He hissed through his teeth and let go abruptly. “It’s done.” His face was pale and dotted with sweat. “But there’s … something missing. I tried to knit some of the wounds closed, but it’s almost as if a piece is missing. Something that can’t heal.” He inspected her arm, which sported only a faint reddish bruise now. “As far as I can tell, this is fine. You must be a fast healer.” He touched her chin and turned her head to look at the scar peeking out from beneath the bandage. With her permission, he unwound it and inspected her temple. She couldn’t tell from his expression how bad it was. “You’re very lucky infection didn’t set in.”
“Can you fix it?” she asked hopefully. “I’ve got this awful headache I haven’t been able to shake.”
He nodded. “There will still be a scar, though. It’s too far along in the natural healing process for it to go away entirely.”
She closed her eyes as he murmured the spell. The ache at her temple eased, and she almost felt the flesh knitting together where the itching scabs had been worst. When he let go, sighing, she touched her face, finding smooth, tight skin. The hair hadn’t grown back over the scar, though. Nothing she could do about that.
“How do you feel?” Ling asked.
“Clearheaded. Do you think you have any more in you to fix my leg?”
He nodded and healed the bullet wound in her thigh. When he was done, she felt almost normal except for that strange emptiness inside her. Ling curled onto his side then, head on his arm. “I need to rest now.”
“Of course. Thank you.” She hesitated as she settled in. “I have to go back to Hawksville tomorrow. I have to find Teddy. He’s my only lead on Abby.”
“It’ll be dangerous.” Ling’s eyes remained closed, his words slurred. “You could be recognized.”
Her hand settled over the gun in her pocket. “I may have a plan.”
Hettie smoothed out the wrinkles in the one dress she’d packed as best as she could, but decided a little dishevelment wouldn’t hurt her cause. Late in the morning, Ling dropped her about half a mile outside of Hawksville. The healer didn’t like her plan one bit, but he couldn’t go with her—he’d be recognized for sure. She promised she would rejoin him before nightfall—at least, that was the hope.
She walked into town, gathering plenty of dust on her boots and the hem of her skirt. She’d smeared some of the red mud from the creek bed along her front, as well. It looked like dried blood.
As the buildings came into sight, she focused on her weariness, staggering, trying to bring tears into her eyes. It wasn’t hard to look pitiful. She was thirsty and hungry, and her various injuries still ached, though Ling had done a fair job healing the worst of it. As she shuffled into town, she immediately caught the attention of some rough-looking sorts hanging around outside a low building.
“Help me, please,” she blubbered, rushing toward them. “My pa’s hurt—we were jumped on the road by a savage!”
The men glanced at each other, then pushed off the wall and came toward her. She probably should have had some considerat
ion for her personal safety—she was taking a risk by playing the damsel in distress—but then reminded herself she had a gun. “Here, now, miss, what’s the trouble?” one man asked.
“We were headed to Newhaven,” she sniffled, “and this wild man jumped from the bushes and bashed my poor pa over the head! He took our horses, our cart—he took everything! Please, help me!”
More men had gathered, anger and shock filling their faces.
“Child, what happened to your hair?” a wizened old man asked.
She’d run Jezebel’s spit through it to make sure it stuck up in all directions and matted it over the scar. “The wild man sliced it off. He was using it for some evil spell. I got away when he … he vanished into a puff of smoke!”
“A demon!”
“Maybe a shaman from the territories.”
“No, it must be a Kukulos warlock,” someone else said. “Sounds like we have a rogue sorcerer on the loose.”
The gathering gasped and whispered. Hettie figured that was the perfect moment to swoon. She went limp and dropped.
“Catch her!”
“Someone find some smelling salts!”
“Call Missy Parsons!”
They carried her into the shade of a wood porch. Someone placed a cool cloth across her forehead. She fluttered her eyes open and found herself peering into the face of the bawdy girl from the Dove.
The woman’s blue eyes focused on her, but her expression didn’t change. She was wearing a simple cotton dress, her hair put up in a loose bun, her face scrubbed clean. “Drink this.” She pushed a glass of whiskey at her. Hettie sipped the drink cautiously, coughing as it burned its way down.
“Okay, now, everyone, back off,” she snapped. “Give the girl some air.”
“My pa,” Hettie croaked. “He’s still out there…”
“Where at, miss?”
“There was a tree. And a boulder.” She made up landmarks as she continued. “And a stream. I think it was north of here. But I got turned around…” She summoned tears and let her hands quake.
The men hesitated at her vague directions. She put in eagerly, “Pa’s a rich man. He’ll be sure to reward whoever saves him.” If you can’t rely on the kindness of strangers, then rely on their greed. Pa had taught her that.
“We’ll bring him back to you, miss, don’t you worry. Missy’ll take care of you until we do.” Several of them tipped their hats and hurried away to search for a man who didn’t exist. It would be something of a race, she imagined, as the tale of the lost girl and her rich pa spread through town and people scrambled to find him for an imaginary reward.
If only people were as willing to help find Abby.
“Let’s go inside,” Missy said. “There’s a room you can use to rest.”
“Thank you.” She made a show of getting up. “I appreciate your hospitality, Miss…?”
“It’s just Missy ’round here.” The woman’s lips curved. “Let it never be said Hawksville is completely full of louts and thugs. The people here are decent enough … for a price. What’s your name?”
“Deborah. Debbie. Ashton. My father’s George Ashton, the third,” she called after the men.
“I doubt they’ll need to know his name, Miss Debbie. Ain’t many men take the north road to Newhaven. Where you from?”
“Cranston Springs,” she replied after a beat. Missy sure did ask a lot of questions.
Hettie followed her into the saloon. As they walked up the stairs, the harried cook popped her head out from behind the bar and peered at Hettie. “Not your usual fare. Who is that?”
“This is Debbie Ashton. She had some trouble on the road. A posse’s gone out looking for her pa. She just needs a place to rest awhile.”
“She got cash up front?”
“Be a Good Samaritan, Mae. At least till her pa arrives.”
The woman muttered something about bills, then disappeared back into her kitchen.
“Don’t mind Mae. She just grumbles for the sake of grumbling. Anyhow, your pa’ll have some way to pay for a room, right?” Missy unlocked a door and led her in. It was the same room Hettie had paid for yesterday. “Why don’t you lie down awhile? If your pa is out there, them boys’ll bring him back soon enough.”
The last thing Hettie wanted was to get trapped in the inn. “I am awful tired, but I’m not sure I could rest … knowing Pa’s still out there with that madman on the loose, I mean.”
“You sure about that? You look like you’ve been … well, running all night.” Her eyes gleamed.
Hettie forced herself to remain calm, averting her gaze. “It’s been a hard road.”
Missy shut the door gently and faced her fully. “All right, it’s just us girls now. What kind of scam are you pulling?”
Hettie kept her face somber. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Just because I’ve been making a living on my back doesn’t make me stupid. You’re the boy from last night. I’m good with faces, you know. Besides, if your pa was a real merchant, he wouldn’t move supplies from Cranston Springs to Newhaven by cart. Not on these roads. It’d been cheaper and faster to go by train, and a man doesn’t make his fortune by taking stupid risks.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Who’re you trying to con? ’Cuz there ain’t much in this town worth risking neck or nether over.”
Hettie darted a look behind her. Should she try to jump out the window? But if Missy knew who she was, she didn’t seem too eager to tell anyone else.
“Where’s this pa of yours? Is he waiting outside for you?”
“My pa’s dead.”
Missy blinked. Hettie stiffened her spine and went on. “I’m not trying to con anyone. I’m looking for someone. A man who may know where my missing sister is.”
“Is that so?” Missy sat on the lone chair in the room. “And who would that be?”
“Teddy. I don’t have a last name. He was at the warehouse fight last night. He works for Boss Smythe.”
“You were the one who saved that Chinaman from the hangman’s necktie.” She nodded. “I thought so. That was some show you put on. Had the whole town in a riot putting out fires that didn’t burn. You don’t look like much of a sorcerer, though.”
She decided not to confirm her suspicions.
Missy assessed her shrewdly. “You telling the truth? About your sister?”
“She was kidnapped by the Crowe gang. They killed my parents, burned my farm, and left me to die.”
“So you want revenge.”
“I want my sister back.”
She leaned forward. “I might know where to find Teddy. I could even lure him out into the open for you.”
“For a price,” Hettie surmised.
Missy smirked.
“What do you want? I don’t have any money.”
“Now that’s a lie. You had to have money to pay room and board and to stable that magicked white mare of yours. Don’t look so surprised—I didn’t chat you up just to see if you were interested in a lark. You make a good boy, by the way.” She sat back and studied her critically. “I want a new life.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look around you. Hawksville is going the way of Louisberg, Wade’s Point, Penance … all those towns the railroad bypassed and the Zoom tunnels don’t reach. I want to leave this place and start a new life.”
“I don’t have that much money.”
“You’ve got more than you let on, I reckon. If I were meaner, I’d ask you for the lot. Wouldn’t take much for me to scream and have the men up here with their guns, after all. Wherever that Celestial’s gotten to, he won’t get here fast enough to save you if folks decide to string you up.” She inspected her nails. “But I’m a charitable sort, so I’ll make you a bargain. Give me enough for the train heading to New York, and I’ll get you Teddy.”
He
ttie grasped the gun in her pocket, fingers twitching. “I don’t have nearly that much. And I need what I do have to hire a bounty hunter.”
“No money, no help.”
The gun in her pocket felt heavier. She could threaten Missy into helping her. Maybe knock her over the head, tie her up…
What was she even thinking? She was desperate, yes, but not quite enough to assault a fallen woman.
“How about this: I’ll give you carriage fare to go to Newhaven. I’ll write you a note of introduction. I’m sure someone’ll hire you. If it’s a new life you’re looking for, that’s better than fare to New York.”
“Who’d hire a whore in Newhaven?” She snorted derisively. “I don’t want to trade one bed for another. Here, at least, I don’t have to deal with a pimp.”
“I can write that you’re a … a washerwoman, or a cook. There’ll be plenty of folks who’d take you on if I asked. I’d be the only one who’d know the truth.”
“And you’re okay with lying about my references?”
“If it gets you to help me, I’ll tell them you’re the queen of England.” Hettie clenched her fists. “Missy, please. I can’t stall. It’s been nearly a month since Abby went missing, and I don’t know how much longer…” She bit her lip, stemming the desperate plea. “I need to get to Teddy today,” she said quietly.
Missy tilted her chin. “You really mean it, don’t you? You’d do anything to find your sister.”
Hettie met her gaze. “She’s all I have left.”
The woman closed her eyes and exhaled. “Dang, I’m getting soft.” She opened the door. “All right. It’s a deal. I’ll get some paper and a pen. You’re gonna write that letter first. After that, we can catch Teddy at the warehouse. But what you do with him after I bring him to you is none of my business, understand?”
On their way to the warehouse, Hettie kept her hands tucked in her coat pockets. She fingered the revolver, palms damp, mouth dust-dry. She hadn’t even tested the thing. Hopefully the sight of it would be enough to scare Teddy into talking.
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