Strange Omens

by Jim Stein

  “Horses! Now I get it,” Piper exclaimed.

  Two gray draft animals pulled a buckboard wagon with a dapper driver perched high on the front bench. The third animal stood tall with an arched neck and tightly-braided mane matching its ivory hide. The regal woman bouncing atop the animal wore tall English boots and a short cut riding jacket. Her ebony hair was braided to match her steed’s mane. It would be disingenuous to say her long face was horse-like, because she was handsome in a dark—somewhat severe—way. They stopped just short of our ogling group.

  “Mayor Baldwin, I presume.” Manfred pushed his way forward and extended a hand as the woman dismounted.

  “Mr. Slack.” She stood five and a half feet tall, her friendly drawl not too different from the Eastons’.

  “Call me Manny. This is my assistant, Rhonda Fleming, and these are the A-Chords.” He swept his arms to encompass the group. “Plus a couple hangers-on.”

  Another car crunched to a stop back by the vehicles, and two more dust plumes rose from the direction of the highway. The woman arched an eyebrow at the incoming cars, then turned briskly to the buckboard driver.

  “Seems we have early arrivals, Brandon. Have the parking signs put out immediately. And let Craig know the hotel may get overrun.”

  “Sure thing, Karen.”

  “We’ll move your vehicles closer to the stables,” she told Manfred. “The stage isn’t fancy, but I expect the whole town will be there tonight.”

  Ms. Baldwin led Pioneer and the other cars around the backside of Main Street. Fields and rolling hills stretched away from town toward distant mesas standing dark against the deep-blue sky. Pristine white-rail fencing cordoned off the various pastures and homesteads surrounding downtown.

  We parked alongside a community riding ring. The massive wood structure had a shallow roofline and open sides atop a half-wall that enclosed the perimeter.

  “We’ve held plenty of shows here,” Mayor Baldwin said. “But never a concert.”

  “How did you hear about the A-Chords?” I asked and got a glare from Manfred.

  “My daughter heard them on late night radio. She got so excited about the tour that I had to look into hosting a performance.”

  She opened the double gate, and we stepped onto the firmly packed sand. I frowned at her answer. Main Line Studios put out impressive signal strength, but I couldn’t think of any atmospheric phenomena that would have carried our programming clear across the country.

  “Double-M has been promoting the tour for months.” Rhonda hugged her clipboard close, making brisk notes as she glowered. “The first album has been playing nationwide since January. These things don’t just happen on their own. Is there power and a warm-up area?”

  Manfred’s assistant was tall, her voice a rich alto. Her square face and wide-set eyes would have been attractive if her demeanor wasn’t as dark as her complexion. Rhonda’s skin was a rich cocoa to Billy’s ebony, but her eyes glinted like angry coal.

  “Plenty of power drops and two hundred amp service.” The mayor spread her arms wide. “But what you see is what you get. Use the far end for the stage. You’ll need your RV for anything private.”

  Showtime approached with dusk, but we had plenty of lighting under the roofline and out into the pastures. The band fired up their opening number, and I set up for recording. With the poor acoustics, I doubted we’d get any usable material. Even Manfred couldn’t expect me to pull decent mix levels out of the squared off structure with its sound-absorbing floor.

  As the mayor predicted, the locals came in force. Most walked from town, but others rode in. The band played to a crowd of two hundred people and perhaps fifty horses. The animals didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the performance. Some were tethered along an adjacent corral, while others had free range of the small pasture.

  Our groupies put in a strong appearance. Better than a dozen vehicles dotted the dirt lot. Our brighter patrons tended to arrive shoved into vans, while the Grims rolled in alone or in pairs. All told, I counted fifty hardcore fans.

  “I love her!”

  I jumped at the shout and turned to find Anna swaying to Quinn’s solo. “She certainly rocks.”

  “Are you addicted too?”

  Rather than yell back, I nodded and pointed to my equipment. Anna gave me a brilliant smile and a thumbs up. We watched the show while she grooved and occasionally sent me off balance with a hip bump. She screamed and clapped between numbers, gave me a hug, and headed down front.

  Her foursome staked out an area in the aisle between seats, but Patty, the woman who came looking for Anna after the last show, had been replaced by a middle-aged man with stringy dark hair. He danced mechanically, the hem of his leather jacket jerking with his rigid movements—another Grim.

  I scanned the audience and spotted Patty’s curly mass of strawberry-blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses. Tight black pants with torn legs and a lace-sleeved top replaced her wild tie-dyed outfit. She danced with slow gyrations. An occasional flash of pink showed along her neckline, a hidden camisole and the last trace of color on the woman.

  The after-show gathering took place onstage, which was really just a roped off area of the inside arena. The mayor brought her daughter and a few other notable citizens to meet the band in the first wave. Cindy was the spitting image of her mother, with a long elegant face. But where the Mayor exuded friendly severity, Cindy bubbled and gushed. Her adoration of the band was palpable. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen. But judging by her exuberance and painfully colorful outfit, I figured another Bright had been born.

  I excused myself after the preliminary introductions to give Max a break from the car. We walked the perimeter, watching the milling crowd and VIP lineup. The locals took the opportunity to socialize. Food and drink magically appeared to fuel the party. No one seemed in a hurry to retrieve their mount, and I was shocked to find the horses loved my dog.

  The free-range animals trotted over to the fence line and went nose to nose with Max. He crouched in puppy play mode, which had the horses snorting, throwing their heads, and skittering away only to return and poke their noses back through the fence. I laughed and unhooked the leash to let them play as I lounged against the rough wood. The sweet clean dust they kicked up matched the fresh country air.

  The second VIP wave resembled Idaho Falls and prior stops Billy described, with separate groups and splashes of color versus dark outfits. The mixing phenomena was easier to see in this open venue. Anna’s wasn’t the only Bright group that went into the function with a Grim. As before, the stream of people leaving was well integrated.

  It would be an exaggeration to say I knew every groupie, but I picked out Grims like the pair that had been after Anna. And the Brights…well, they certainly stood out. Both ranks swelled with additions I swore were newcomers, like the Mayor’s daughter, who circled back for a second round and chatted with Anna’s friends. I was happy to see her nod and turn away from the group’s resident Grim and took a mental note to ask Anna about the man.

  The party continued for another hour. Max had no intention of leaving the horses and vice versa. He lounged on the thick foam bed from the car, accepting occasional homage from the giant beasts and surveying his domain. Anna and Cindy danced over to my post heedless of the fact the music had stopped.

  “Did your mom have fun?” I asked the younger girl.

  “Who knows?” Cindy shrugged. “She acts all proper, but she’s a rocker at heart. I died when Quinn closed the show.”

  Clearly she didn’t, but I let the comment go. “Quite the finale. I’m surprised the horses didn’t spook.”

  “Aw, they’re used to worse during hunting season. Believe it or not, we throw some wild parties around here.” She knelt to rub Max’s head while two horses snuffled his back.

  “Good mixer?” I asked Anna.

  “A little uncomfortable. The guys went off to regale a girl they just met with our adventures since SoCal. Cindy rescued me from our newes
t…friend, downer Dan.”

  “The scraggly dude? What’s his deal?”

  “No idea. Patty got all tight with him last night. Now, she’s off riding in their car, and Dan is suddenly riding with us and wanting to be our best friend.” The cloud crossing her face only lasted a moment before her smile returned. “Not gonna talk about stupid stuff. You are so lucky to be with the band. I’d give anything.”

  “Me too!” Cindy chimed in.

  “It is an adventure. Sounds like you started in California. How far will you go?”

  “Worked our way up from Bakersfield. Not much left down there nowadays so a road trip is perfect. I wanna…” Anna stopped dancing and leaned in close. “See it all? Does that make sense, Ed? I have this void.”

  She took my hand and put it on her stomach just below the ribs. My first instinct was to jerk away, but it was a friendly, familiar gesture, not sexual. I had my sights on Quinn, but that didn’t stop me from getting notions about other girls. There were zero stirrings for Anna, which was strange and a bit of a relief. We’d developed an oddly comfortable relationship in what—twenty-four hours?

  She held my hand over one of the spot where I tied off my hiding spell, right around the solar plexus. It was where my music boiled up strongest and much of the magic melded to form spells. Piper’s diagrams labeled it the lower or mental body chakra. Perhaps it was where passions arose and the things that fulfill a person originated.

  “I’m glad you’re following your dreams.” I pulled my hand away and gave her shoulder a squeeze just as the stage lights came back on. The opening notes of “MR”, the politically correct rename of “Manic Regurgitation,” exploded from the speakers.

  “Oh, an encore!” Anna exclaimed as Cindy jumped to her feet. “I need to—”

  The horses nuzzling Max shrieked high and bright, their eyes wild and necks arched. The big buckskin jumped straight up in the air, all four feet leaving the ground. She landed and skittered away from the fence while her companion pawed the grass. Other horses whinnied and screamed. Max growled deep in his throat, hackles raised from neck to tail.

  A stray hoof slapped the fence, sending Anna tumbling. I grabbed for her as the roar of splintering wood and groaning metal filled the air. The horses stampeded away from the riding ring, three of them dragging the broken section of fence to which they had been tethered. The buckskin mare got tangled in the fence, staggered, and crashed to the ground. The crowd erupted into chaos. Owners called to their fleeing horses and ran for the corral. Guns sprouted from nowhere, even faster than the food had materialized.

  “What’s going on?” I pulled Anna to her feet.

  “I don’t know.” Cindy whipped her head from pasture to crowd. “Dad’s horse went wild once when a mountain lion got into the barn, but this is crazy.”

  In moments, handheld floodlights played across the fields while ranchers with long guns searched the dark landscape and took up positions facing outward. The horses huddled in a tight group at the end of the pasture. Two big stallions stood at the front, forelegs splayed and taking turns charging a few paces forward before dropping back to the herd.

  The band faltered to a stop and buzzing from the speaker stacks replaced the music before cutting out. We waited in tense silence. I expected to hear a gunshot or yell. The minutes stretched on. People moved among the horses, culling individual animals from the group and calming others with quiet words.

  “It’s an abrupt ending to a wonderful evening, but I’m afraid the show’s over.” The mayor’s voice spilled from the speakers. “Brandon, get the deputy to set up watches. Something’s skulking about, and we can’t afford to lose more animals. You all know the drill, it’s the buddy system until I say otherwise. No one so much as goes to the pot alone until you hear the all clear.” Heads nodded around the arena, and Brandon scurried off. “Let’s give the A-Chords and Double-M Records a big round of applause. Then everyone get your asses inside!”

  The townspeople flew into motion, gathering their belongings, forming into groups, and working to get the remaining horses under control. Owners walked calmed animals back toward town or their respective homesteads. Max disappeared during the commotion. If there was something out there nasty enough to scare horses pushing a ton, I needed to get my big mutt inside too.

  “Crap, I gotta go find my dog. Catch you at the next stop?”

  “I look forward to it.” Anna stood on tiptoe to kiss me quick and light on the cheek. “Be careful.”

  Cindy gave me a friendly wave, and the two girls headed off to the parking lot. I took about three steps toward the stage when it struck me the Mayor’s directive was good advice for us all. Discounting magical creatures, I’d never seen a big cat .But magnifying the damage a housecat could do by several factors made my skin crawl. I really needed to figure out protective shielding instead of just hiding behind my Tokpela.

  “Quinn!” I called, disrupting her cable sorting at the edge of the stage. “Can you help me find Max?”

  ***

  Terror from the muscular animals the humans called horses gave Uktena a healthy measure of satisfaction, but it was soured by annoyance. His dragon form tended to radiate fear more than his other aspects. The powerful creatures were attuned to their environs and fleet of foot, truly worthy prey. Of course he could not hunt here and did not want the notice of the animals and humans.

  Uktena willed himself into a stalking trance, letting his physical and magical footprints fade into the background. The great serpent excelled at stealth, becoming a shadow beyond notice and invisible until the fatal strike. No other spirit or animal matched his abilities in the hunt, in camouflage, or in the paralyzing gaze that overpowered victims with all-consuming fear. Yes, he was the ultimate predato—

  Something wet poked his side. Uktena swung left to deal with the interruption. The black mass of fur moved with him, cold nose poking him again and this time snorting a spray of snot onto his gleaming scales.

  “What”—the great serpent had little use for words, but glares and hypnotic gazes were insufficient to express his indignation—“do you want, mongrel?”

  The dog sniffed and poked that dreadfully cold snout into a crevasse where scales overlapped. Unused to being touched in such a familiar way, the contact made him cringe. It was high time he modified the tracking bond on this animal. The connection obviously worked both ways, which presented a vulnerability he would not tolerate.

  “Stop that,” Uktena snapped as the slimy nose pressed harder.

  Not just sniffing, but prodding and pushing. It was absurd; this audacious animal wanted him to move. Uktena gaped at the persistent dog. There was no way a bite-sized morsel could compel the likes of the great horned serpent, but the insistent clammy pressure had Uktena giving way with an exasperated huff. Once he was up on his feet, the hound butted him with the top of its head, herding the dragon-serpent farther back behind the human structure. Uktena gave way, letting himself be directed, curious now to see what the hound had on its tiny mind. His antagonist let out a short yip, thick black tail slapping so hard it made his hind end wiggle. Ridiculous dog.

  “Enough!” Uktena bellowed.

  There was no more space to accommodate this silly game. The structure butted up against corral fencing at a thickly timbered junction with a long, gated chute that let the humans move new animals in and out. He saw no reason to let himself be herded into the narrow opening. Besides, he was too massive in dragon form. His serpent shape could have easily fit, but again, why?

  A wave of fear had his nostrils flaring and tongue darting to taste the sweet scent. Labored breathing—a wild galloping heartbeat…there. A horse lay tight against the sturdy fence at the rear of the chute. Fear and searing pain radiated from the buckskin mare that had been nuzzling his black nemesis when Uktena arrived. Wires trailing broken slats tangled the horse’s hind quarters. Its back left leg canted out at a severe angle, clearly broken.

  Uktena had watched the natives of the Great P
lains ride their painted steeds for centuries, but had never tasted horseflesh. His mouth watered as he savored the prospect. A plaintive whine drew his attention back to the dog who gazed up hopefully, tail slapping the dirt. Uktena drew back his lips and hissed.

  “Only an idle fantasy. The council causes no harm.”

  Yet arriving to monitor the boy had indeed caused mischief. Lights still played across the fields and paddocks as the humans looked for the source of their animals’ agitation. Uktena and the hound were safe from discovery courtesy of his magic, but the horse would need attention if it was to survive. The break was bad, the bone shattered below the knee. He smelled internal bleeding, and infection already sent questing fingers deep. His council oath did not allow him to take sides in the growing conflict. But the injury was a byproduct of council action, even if getting hurt was the senseless animal’s own fault.

  “Fine!” Uktena snorted in response to another whine. “Be quiet and let me work.”

  He gazed down at the cornered animal. The horse blew and struggled, avoiding eye contact, but Uktena caught and held one wild white-rimmed eye. He weaved from side to side. The dragon was better suited to instilling fear, forcing enemies to flee or rooting prey in place, but his nature was that of the serpent. The mare followed his movements, its huge left eye dropping into a more natural then heavy lidded watchfulness.

  He slid forward and laid a claw upon the destroyed leg. Magic and talons worked to manipulate tendon and bone, to flush away the agents of infection, and to mend the leg, all while holding the animal in a calming trance. It was done in moments, earning him a half-hopeful bark. Entirely too much came through that bond.

  Uktena withdrew his influence and stepped back to give the horse room. It rose with a whinny and head shake, tested the leg, and cantered back to join the other animals. Warm pressure settled against his foreleg and atop his foot. The hound leaned on him, and the great serpent shook his head in bemusement. They watched a slender man hurry over to coo insipid words at the mare. That cold wet nose nuzzled the back of his knee. Tomorrow, he would modify the bond.