Once upon a time, Jules would have laughed in his face. But none of this was funny anymore.
“It seems they wanted me for a particular purpose,” Pete said. “They had heard tales that an ancient Greek vase had found its way out West. Given my background in study, I was asked—more like ordered—to investigate. I researched it far enough to find a map in an obscure book, but it had no names on it other than ‘Dakota’ scribbled across the bottom and some landmarks. I came out here looking for it.”
“How did the Kid find you?” Jules asked.
“In a saloon in Stanton,” Pete said. “I’d been traveling through the entire territory trying to find someone who would recognize the landmarks. He—sorry, she—must have heard about me, because she sought me out and started asking questions. When I showed her the map, she knew right where it was.”
“We’d been through the Badlands a few times,” Trent said, “hiding out, before it was the Maelstrom. She likely recognized some of the landmarks.”
“She say who first told her about the vase?” Jules asked.
Pete shook his head. “Not a word. And I was naïve. I was so excited to get a lead on the vase, I never asked myself why the Kid was so interested. Oh, I promised her money if she helped, thinking that was what she wanted. I should have known better.”
“Why did your Sanctum want the vase?” Jules asked.
“They believe a war is coming,” Pete said softly. “They thought it was a weapon—“
“That they could use,” Jules finished.
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “They wanted to keep it away from others. Or at least that’s what I thought then. This world is so different than we’re led to believe. The earth was once covered in darkness. All kinds of evil things roamed the land. Humans were chattel and little more. But one day we rose up. There was a leader, one who helped beat back the darkness—and contained a portion of it within a vase.”
“If that were true, I’d think we would have heard about this before now,” Jules said.
“Oh, you’ve heard about it,” Pete said quietly. “Everyone has. It’s a famous myth.”
“About a giant storm and a vase of evil? Think I’d remember that,” Jules said.
“It was mistranslated,” Pete said. “The story has been changed many times over the centuries. And the hero’s name has been twisted into something it wasn’t.”
“What is the story? Who’s the hero?”
“In the version most people know, Zeus bottles up all the evil of the world and gives it to a woman to unleash upon the earth. It’s a punishment for all mankind.”
Jules looked at him in surprise. “Pandora’s Box,” she said.
“It was never a box,” Pete replied. “As I said, it was mistranslated. In the real legend, it was a vase, a large urn, not a box. That was what the Kid opened. A vase where an ancient punishment had been sealed away.”
“So Pandora wasn’t the bad guy?” Jules asked.
“Not from my research,” Pete replied. “She was a leader. Somehow her role changed in the retelling. She became the tool of destruction, not deliverance.”
Just like men to change a story like that, Jules thought. She shook her head. It was almost too crazy to believe.
“How did you escape the Kid when she turned?” Jules asked.
“I was lucky. When the Kid opened the vase and the cloud attacked her, I didn’t know what was going on. When I saw what was happening, I ran. She caught up to me before I left the tunnel. She intended to bite me, but when she tried, something I was wearing turned her away.”
Jules looked at him in surprise. “A cross?”
He nodded. “It was a gift from a friend from a long time before I headed out this way. It was the cross around my neck that stopped her.”
That explained why Pete was so obsessed with the objects. But in her travels, she’d never heard from others that crosses worked to protect people against Vipers. Pete had been holding on to one in the Maelstrom, but none of the Vipers had reacted to it. She had trouble believing a simple cross would help. Unless—
“The cross you wore. What was it made of?”
“Silver,” he replied.
Jules nodded her head. That explained it.
“I lost that cross not long after,” he continued. “Even in my state of mind, I spent every waking moment trying to find it—or a replacement.”
Jules nodded. She could think of no way to ask her next question delicately. “When did you go crazy, Pete? You knew enough to hide the keys.”
He sighed. “After I escaped, the dreams started.”
“Dreams?” Trent asked.
“Of her, of them,” Pete said. “I think something in that initial cloud infected me. I never turned into a Viper, but she was like a knife in my mind. Eventually I couldn’t stand it anymore. I managed to hide the keys, but by then my sanity was crumbling. I had hoped to take them back east with me. But I lost my way.”
He’d gone mad. Jules shuddered to think what that was like. Even that brief moment of having the Vipers in her mind made her feel nauseated.
“How would a Greek item end up this far west? It was no accident,” Trent said.
“I don’t know,” Pete said. “I’m not sure how the Sanctum even knew to look for it.”
“And your secret society never came looking for you?” Jules asked. “They didn’t wonder what happened?”
Pete looked away. He idly patted the horse nearest him.
“I think it took time—more than a decade—but eventually they did come looking,” Pete said.
Suddenly it clicked into place. “Graves.”
Pete nodded. “I don’t remember much of the past twenty years. Mostly I remember scorn from everyone except your sister. But I remember he visited me on a few occasions, asking questions. He knew who I really was. He wanted to find out where I’d hidden the keys.”
And eventually he had. Graves had never been there to find and sell the vase. He’d been working on behalf of a secret society. If that were true, she wondered just how good this society really was. What kind of people left one of their own after finding him descended into madness?
Jules nodded her head. “You know what you’re doing next?”
He looked away from the horse and back at her. “I was hoping I could come with you, actually.”
Jules was surprised. “Why?”
Pete shrugged. “Nowhere else to go. And I have questions about what happened to me. Somehow I think being with you is liable to answer a few.”
Trent raised his hand to object, but Jules was already nodding. Her father might not know it yet, but this was her gang now. She would decide who was a part of it.
“Good,” Jules said. “You’re welcome to come along. Get your stuff and be ready to move out within an hour. We’ve got plans.”
To his credit, he didn’t ask what they were. Jules turned on her heel and left the stables, her father trailing behind.
“That’s it?” he asked. “You’re just going to let him tag along?”
She was, though even she wasn’t sure why. Some instinct, the same one that had told her she could trust Luke.
“There’s a lot we still don’t know, Father,” Jules said. “Pete could be useful.”
Jules emerged onto the main road and spotted Miranda and Luke walking toward her.
“Everything ready?” she asked.
Luke nodded and Miranda smiled. Trent looked at Jules quizzically. “What’s our next step?”
So he did know who was in charge. And he didn’t appear to be fighting it.
“We’re going to find the woman who gave the prophecy to the Kid,” Jules said.
She’d also given Jules her tattoo. More than ever, Jules was convinced that had turned back the Queen’s venom. Maybe it had even protected her from bullets. There was only one person who knew for sure.
“Makes sense,” Trent said.
“She won’t be easy to find,” Luke warned.
Jules nodded. That was likely true, but she was determined. Finding the Lady of Shadows might help her learn more about her own fate. Had she already made the choice that her mother was so worried about? Or was that still to come?
But she needed to take it one step at a time. First she needed money. Stanton had been generous with them, but it was hardly a wealthy town.
“That can wait for now,” Jules said. “We’ve got other priorities. We need to get out of town. I want to head to a new settlement a few dozen miles west. Word is there’s a cattle operation being set up by some wealthy men.”
Miranda gave her a bemused look.
“You’re thinking of taking up cattle ranching?” she asked. Jules met her gaze and smiled.
“It turns out they started up a new bank as well,” she said. “And I intend to rob it.”
THE END
If you want more of Jules Castle’s story, please spread the word by leaving a review on Amazon and telling your friends. Her future depends on you! Please sign up here to be notified of any future Jules Castle adventures.
Afterward
This is the most fun I’ve ever had writing a novel. Jules’ story came to me almost fully formed. I had the idea of a female outlaw armed with the skills of Annie Oakley, struggling to find her father and facing off against the most horrible monsters I could imagine.
Usually ideas are easy to come by and much harder to implement. It tends to take a while to figure out the plot and character trajectory. But pretty much from the moment I started writing this novel, Jules grabbed hold of her story and didn’t let go. The writing was sheer joy, a feeling I’ve seldom experienced in the nine times I’ve written a novel.
Perhaps as a result, I would like nothing more than to continue her story. Jules has learned one major secret of her life, but there are others. And as for what fate has in store for her—well, it’s probably best if I don’t say too much….
If you want to know more, please leave a review on Amazon and spread the word among your friends. In writing an urban fantasy/western—a subgenre that doesn’t really exist—I knew marketing this book would never be easy. It will depend on word of mouth. If you can help spread it, I’d be much obliged.
There are many people to thank. Most important is my wife, Maia, who did not think I was crazy to want to write a western/urban fantasy hybrid. She encouraged me to write what I wanted, rather than what I thought would sell. As my first reader, Maia suggested many big and little changes that improved this novel.
My editor Evelyn Duffy also did tremendous work on this book, particularly the first half. I wrote the book so quickly, I was a bit sloppy. Evelyn fixed my mistakes, made sure I didn’t cut any corners, and tightened the book overall. She also pushed me to change some of the ending, resulting in a more satisfying conclusion and an added twist. I’m grateful for her improvements and wise counsel.
My beta readers—Daniel Wolfe, Dan Gasink, Brian Gill, Jenny Rizzo, Melinda Seigler, and David Wright—were a big help in rooting out errors and improving Jules’ story.
Finally, I want to thank all of my readers. Some of you have been with me from the beginning; some are only just finding my stuff now. But I’ve heard from many of you how much you enjoy the books. Thank you so much. You’re the reason I keep writing them.
Rob Blackwell
April 2019
About the Author
Rob is an award-winning journalist with 20 years' experience and the author of The Sanheim Chronicles and The Soren Chase novels, two series that combine urban fantasy, mystery and suspense. His latest novel, Riders on the Storm, merges urban fantasy and the western genres.
His first novel, A Soul to Steal, was featured on USA Today and praised by book bloggers and readers alike for its great plot and "fantastic ending." Many of his other books have been Kindle bestsellers in the Dark Fantasy category.
As a journalist, Rob has won several significant honors. In 2017, Rob was given the Neal Award's Tim White Award, which recognizes editors "whose work displays extraordinary courage, integrity, and passion." He has helped the publication American Banker win several Neal, Azbee and SABEW awards as a reporter and editor, covering topics such as deposit insurance reform, the Wells Fargo phony-accounts scandal, and American Samoa's effort to charter its own public bank. He has appeared on NPR, BBC, CNBC, Fox Business and C-SPAN as an expert on financial regulatory policy.
You can find out more about him at his website, www.robblackwellbooks.com, his Facebook page, at www.facebook.com/asoultosteal, or on Twitter at @robblackwellAB.
Rob lives in Virginia with his wife and two children.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
All rights reserved by Rob Blackwell.
Cover by Deranged Doctor Design.
Formatting by Polgarus Studio.
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