Bulletproof Witch

by F J Blair

  So much for the monster staying near the canyons, she mused. Outside the thicket, the creature shuffled about, as if looking for something. It let out another keening cry. Next to her, William stiffened, mouth snapping shut before he could get another question out.

  Temperance watched as the creature moved to one side of the thicket, then the other, a confused furrow growing on her brow. What was the horse-beast doing? It almost looked as if it were hunting for something.

  For that matter, what was it doing here in the first place? The last time she saw it, the monster had been making hard tracks in the opposite direction, after it failed to sniff them out in those native ruins. Now here it was, several days of hard travel away from there, in perhaps the last place she would have expected to stumble upon it.

  Another flare of heat shot up her spine, nearly doubling her over with the pain. With it came a sudden realization, the answer to both her questions, and a hundred new ones taking their place.

  The horse-beast was following her through their bond, just like with a tracking brand. It didn’t know her specific location, but had a general direction to follow. But how—

  Temperance gritted her teeth and pushed all other thoughts aside. Right now, she had to deal with getting both her and William out of here alive. She could worry about the rest later.

  “When I say run, you head that way, alright?” She pointed in the opposite direction from the creature. “Find somewhere to hide and wait for me to come get you. Understand?”

  William nodded and glanced at the horse-beast again. The monster had stopped, and appeared to be sniffing the air.

  Without taking her eyes from it, Temperance reached into her pouch and withdrew the fire hex sphere. She checked the runes to be certain, nodded, and gripped it tight. “Ready . . . run!”

  The horse-beast spun about at her shout. It gave a screech of triumph as William burst from the thicket, pelting over the hard-packed ground like a rabbit flushed from its warren. Temperance leapt from the log pile.

  “Hey, over here!” She waved an arm for emphasis.

  Through the blood-red stalks, she saw the horse-beast pause and turn in her direction. A low growl emerged from its throat. Then it turned away and started moving towards William again.

  “Dammit, I said over here! Where you going?” The creature was pushing through the red stalks like a jack-cat parting the prairie grass, and it gained a dozen feet before she managed to fight her own way through.

  Somewhere ahead, William screamed. The horse-beast answered with its own trumpeting cry before leaping past a pile of rocks and scree. Beyond that, the land sloped downward, forming a small culvert. Lone stalks of redgrass sprouted along the lip, giving the appearance of enormous bloody fingers grasping at the landscape.

  Temperance spotted the boy sliding down the side. The horse-beast ran alongside the culvert’s edge, eating up the distance in seconds.

  “Slow down already, you mangy excuse for crowbait!” She pelted through the strands of redgrass broken in the monster’s path. Below her, William was trying to squeeze himself into a shallow alcove, little more than a small lip of shelf overhanging the culvert’s bottom.

  If that monster gets down there, he’ll shred the poor boy in minutes! Temperance wound her arm back to throw the hex sphere. The horse-beast hovered at the edge of the lip, peering down at its prey with a hungry expression. Its leg muscles tensed as they readied to pounce.

  Words of power were on Temperance’s lips, but still the hex sphere remained in her clenched fist. Her whole arm shook from being held aloft. She tried to force herself to throw it, strained every muscle to no avail.

  Do it, do it now! The beast turned and looked at her. Glowing black eyes blinked, and it gave a trumpeting cry. One of its claws dug into the side, sending scree and dirt tumbling towards the bottom. Temperance fought for control of herself, but it was as if someone had encased her limbs in ice. That’s not Astor in there anymore! If you don’t kill it, the boy is dead!

  Still, she hesitated, and a moment later her opportunity was lost forever. The horse-beast slashed through the redgrass along the lip and pitched forward into the culvert. Its long spider-like legs dug deep into the hill’s soil, leaving great rents in its wake. From his alcove William gave another shout.

  Temperance rushed to the edge and peered downward. The creature had reached the bottom, tumbling into an undignified heap of legs and rocks. It pulled itself free and skittered towards William’s hiding place.

  Temperance slid the hex sphere back in her pocket and hurriedly considered her options. Rushing down there to the boy’s defense without a plan would just see her killed as well. Neither could she just leave him to die at the hands of that horse-beast, either. Trading death by one monster for another was too cruel a twist of fate, even for the Divines.

  I could try bees. Would bees even register for a creature such as that? Perhaps, but she didn’t like the odds. No. I need something else that will give us time to get away.

  Pulling out a piece of sorcerer’s chalk, she drew a rough set of runes on the rocky hillside. They were similar to ones she had once found stitched into a bag among her grandfather’s possessions. The bag was gone, well spent on a similar escape, but her memory of the runes remained.

  Work complete, she turned back to study the scene below. The horse-beast was stabbing its long claws down into the alcove, but appeared to have encountered some difficulty reaching William. It let loose a howl and began tearing away at the ground with a mad fury, flinging clumps of dirt into the air.

  Temperance tucked away the chalk and drew her hunting knife. Vaulting over the culvert’s edge, she slid down the side, dodging the larger rocks if she could and cursing when she couldn’t. A stone as big as a house sat half-buried near the bottom, and she aimed herself towards it, using her momentum to scramble on top.

  The horse-beast continued digging some fifteen feet below, oblivious to her presence. Temperance gritted her teeth and launched off the rock, the air whistling past until she crashed onto the creature’s back, the hard chitin growing over its spine doing little to soften the impact.

  The horse-beast reared back as she landed, giving a cry that echoed through the culvert. Temperance dug her hands into the coarse hair sprouting between plates of chitin. She swung first one direction and then another as the monster’s claws struck around her, doing their best to dislodge the interloper.

  There was a wide space between two patches of chitin where Astor’s saddle would have been, and she drew closer to it, inch by slow inch. The horse-beast spun in an erratic circle, nearly pitching over as scree slipped between its legs.

  Another claw struck just inches from Temperance’s face, pulling up a plate of chitin. Underneath she could see corded muscles that pulsed with each attempt to remove her. Without thinking, she sank the hunting knife into the gap, plunging it in twice before the beast managed to shake her loose.

  She flew through the air, landing hard amid the stones, air pushed out of her like a brick wall had tried to pat her on the back. The horse-beast let out an agonized scream and dropped to the ground, writhing about in pain.

  Temperance had stars in her vision. She sat up and saw William peeking out of his hiding place, eyes wide with terror. “Hurry, to the top of the hill!”

  Together they scrambled up the scree, sliding back down a step for every three they took. Below them, the screaming had stopped. Temperance risked a glance over her shoulder.

  The horse-beast was picking itself up, coal-black blood running down one of its sides. Temperance felt her guts twist at the sight, despite knowing it had been necessary. She hoped that wherever Astor was, he would understand.

  Ahead of her William stumbled, and would have slid back down if she hadn’t grabbed at his belt. “I do not think I can make it.”

  “Then don’t think, just keep climbing. The top isn’t much farther.” The boy nodded, digging into the rocks for purchase. Blood oozed from a dozen places on his han
ds. Temperance wasn’t much better off herself.

  The top of the culvert appeared, and Temperance pulled herself up before casting a hand down to help William climb the last few feet. Every muscle in her legs screamed to sit down and rest, but she forced herself to stumble over to where her runes lay etched into the dirt. She pulled a handful of redgrass seeds from her pocket.

  Below her, the horse-beast clambered at the cliffside, sinking its legs in deep to find purchase. It was having even more trouble than William, and continued sliding even as it tried to drag itself further towards the top. Temperance almost left it, but the thought of it catching them again just an hour or two later spurred her on. She laid the seeds atop the runes and, pressing her hand into the soil, muttered an incantation.

  “Rendeso Qui Palovar Un!”

  The ground gave a shudder. Temperance leapt to her feet and stumbled back. She grabbed William’s hand, pulling him away just as rocks erupted from the hillside, the spell turning anything smaller than a pebble into a boulder as big as her head. Hundreds spewed into the culvert, raining down on the horse-beast below like a thunderstorm out of a nightmare. The creature gave an angry cry, but Temperance didn’t risk going back to see what happened. She and William turned tail and fled.

  They set off towards the west, Temperance weaving a path through the grass, barely keeping track of where they traveled, her own thoughts turned inward once again. She had hesitated back there, and it had almost meant the end of them both. Next time they might not be so lucky.

  Still, the danger had passed. Already she could feel the heat along her spine receding until it almost wasn’t there at all. Behind them, a piercing scream echoed from the thicket. Temperance felt a twinge of emotion through her bond. There was a sense of hunger, and of longing that she couldn’t quite put into words. She pushed the feelings away.

  “C’mon,” she said to William. “Miles to go before it gets dark.”

  Chapter Eight

  Five Years Earlier

  Martin Blackfire sat on the hay bale and watched Temperance bolt down food from his pack almost faster than she could get it into her mouth. A hint of a smile played across the cragged lines of his face. At last he held up a hand. “Gently, girl, gently. No need to make yourself sick. Way you’re going at it we’ll need to buy a wagon-load of supplies in Smithton.”

  Temperance’s head shot up. “No Smithton.”

  She braced for the inevitable questions to follow. Martin just gave a slight frown, then nodded.

  Satisfied, Temperance went back to gnawing on the jerky, but slower this time. Already she felt her belly stretching in a way that it hadn’t for months now.

  Along with feeling her body returning to some semblance of normal, Temperance’s mind started churning once again. A part of her still couldn’t believe that Martin, of all people, had found her. Months ago she had considered searching for her grandfather’s old friends once the snow receded, but it had never occurred to her that one of them might seek her out instead. She glanced up, and saw that he was still watching her. His smile from earlier had returned.

  “Suppose it’s just as well, I didn’t want to strike out towards Smithton, anyway. My wagon is waiting at the other end of the range.” Martin glanced at Duchess. “Might have a tough time getting that horse through the Southern pass, but we should be able to manage it.”

  For the first time, the man’s words registered in Temperance’s skull. She swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m going with you?”

  “Of course you are. Can’t leave you here all alone, I owe James that much, at least. I’ll bring you back east with me. Town near where I’m settled has a mission that takes children in need of raising. You’ll get a bit more of the good book in your life than your grandfather would prefer, I reckon, but you’ll do alright.”

  “A mission? Why can’t I live with you?”

  Martin made a face. “Living with an old man like myself is no life for a young lady. Besides, I wouldn’t have time to look after you, I’ve got students who need tending.”

  “Students?” It had never occurred to Temperance that Martin might train Pistol Warlocks as well. Her grandfather had certainly never mentioned it.

  “That’s right, students. I may not provide the same fancy education that James insisted on, but I like to think my boys could go toe to toe with any of the ones that came out of Cold Valley. Sorcery isn’t for everyone, and there are plenty of folks out there that are just happy to know one hexbullet from another.”

  Temperance started to defend her grandfather’s reputation, then snapped her mouth shut. Another thought occurred to her. Unused to having another person around, the words boiled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  “You could train me.”

  “Huh? You care to walk that trail again?” The old gunslinger blinked at her.

  “I said, you could train me. Grandpa has already taught me all the basics. I just need someone to finish the work he started.”

  Martin opened his mouth, but Temperance talked over him, words coming out in a rush. “Please don’t say no. I’ve already got my own supply of hexbullets—” She hefted the bandoliers. “—all you’d have to do is show me how to use them. Then I’ll be out of your way forever, I promise.”

  “Listen, girl.” Martin shook his head. “That isn’t a path you want to follow. I can appreciate what James was trying to do by training you in the first place, even if I don’t agree with it, but you have a chance for a different life now. You can put all this tragedy behind you. Learning to be a Pistol Warlock won’t do you any favors. Hell, it might just bring more trouble down on your head. I’d rather see you happy with a home and hearth than rotting in a ditch somewhere.”

  “But I don’t want a home, or a hearth!” Temperance leapt to her feet. Anger was burning hot inside her now with nowhere else to go and nothing left to direct it away. “You say I should choose a different life? That I can put all this behind me? I watched my family die, and I did nothing! Now here you are, telling me I have a chance to never be powerless again, and I shouldn’t take it? I want to be trained as a Pistol Warlock. That’s what my grandfather would want me to do, and I’d rather die knowing I did all I could than give up and forget everything it cost for me to still be here!”

  Her shouts echoed through the barn. As they faded out, Duchess looked up and blew out a huff of air, then returned to munching on his hay. Martin stood watching, eyes fixed on Temperance. He seemed to chew something over in his mind.

  “Let me ask you this,” he said at last. “Say I train you, teach you everything I know about slinging hexbullets. What are you planning to do after that?”

  “I . . . .” Temperance hesitated, her anger smothered by a sudden wash of uncertainty. What do I want? Revenge? I don’t even have an idea of where to start, much less how.

  She pushed the doubts flooding her mind back down and looked at Martin. “I don’t know yet. But I sure as heck don’t intend to live quietly in some mission. I’ll stake Grandpa’s guns on that.”

  The old man looked at Temperance as if he was seeing her for the first time. She held his gaze until a bead of sweat started working its way down her forehead.

  “Fine, you win, girl.” Martin held up a hand to forestall her cry of joy. “On one condition. You don’t get any special treatment from me. If I’m to train you, I’ll do it the same as any of my other apprentices, and you’ll abide by my rules as anyone else would. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Temperance said, unable to keep a grin from breaking out across her face. It felt like the first real one she’d had in months. She held out a hand. Martin glanced at it, but didn’t reach out and take it.

  “First things first. What have you got to offer?”

  “I—what?”

  Martin rubbed his fingers together. “Offer, girlie, offer. How are you planning to pay the apprentice fee?”

  “Um . . . .” Temperance patted her pockets, as if they were secretly l
oaded with treasure. She still had the fifteen kos from her trip to Smithton, but something told her that wouldn’t be enough to appease Martin.

  “Here.” She handed over her hunting knife. “This belonged to Grandpa. There’s something strange about it. Might have some magickal properties.”

  Martin glanced down with a dull expression. “Not interested. What else?”

  Temperance ran over to where she kept her meager possessions. There was her grandfather’s journal, a couple empty tin cans, and plenty of mostly-full whiskey bottles. She dug around and came back with her few possessions likely to be of interest to Martin.

  “This bag appears to have some spell on it, but haven’t worked out the particulars yet. And this stone seems to warn you when daemons are coming.”

  The old man inspected the items, tossed the bag of sand back to Temperance, then pocketed the stone. “What else?”

  “I . . . I don’t . . . .”

  “If you’ve got nothing else, then our business is done. Can’t be taking on an apprentice who can’t afford my fees. Oh well, looks like it’ll be the mission for you after all.”

  Temperance swallowed and forced herself to stop panicking. This is a scare tactic. He’s trying to get me to give up so he won’t have to honor his promise. Apparently he forgot that I’m a Whiteoak, if he thinks it will be that easy.

  “You can have my hexbullets.” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she was going to say them.

  “Sorry, you care to chew that a little finer?” Martin wriggled a finger in his ear.

  “I said, you can have my hexbullets. All of them, everything that Grandpa and his apprentices left me. They’re all yours.”

  For a moment, Martin sat looking at her. He had that expression again, like he had only just realized Temperance was there. Based on the set of his jaw, he didn’t like what he was seeing much.