The same thought had been rattling around Temperance’s own head all morning. Hearing Astor put it so bluntly forced her to look at the last few hours again.
In particular, her striking the mayor was feeling more and more like a bad plan. It had worked at the moment to shock him over to her side of things, but later, when he had time to think back, the man might view it less favorably. It had been a blow to his respect and power in the town in every sense of the word. She needed to make this right, keep the man on her side.
Temperance looked up and saw Astor was still staring at her. She shrugged. “I expect I’ll find a way to bring them around. After all, in another two days at least one family in Shady Hollow will be glad I’m still here.”
She swung herself back up into the saddle, and they set off towards the town. At the edge of the clearing, Astor paused and flicked his ears. Two days, you say. I’ll see about turning up Belial’s trail, wherever the daemon has got to. Just make sure you stay alive until then.
Chapter Ten
“Stop right there, stranger! I’ll shoot, I swear I—oh, it’s you.” The ruddy-faced man with a black beard lowered his gun and stood aside as Temperance rode into the clearing. Tables had been moved out to form a rough circle, the half-dozen men and boys ringing it making a paltry attempt at a defensive line. Inside, several women surrounded by rowdy, screaming children looked on with varying mixtures of frustration and amusement.
“What’s this, now?” The mayor appeared from the other side of the crowd, taking in Temperance and her horse in a single, sweeping glance. “You’re back. Tell me you caught the daemon. The town can’t stand to lose another harvest day waiting ‘round here twiddling their fingers.”
“Not yet,” Temperance said, and her words rippled through the crowd, sowing a mixture of fear and anger in equal measure. “But I have a better mind what the beast is about, now, and I have prepared something to catch it by surprise. When the daemon returns, I’ll see it finished.”
“That’s what you said before, and look what happened.” The speaker was the same woman with the pinched face who had spoken against her yesterday with Cyrus. More than a few people in the crowd nodded their agreement. Temperance noted the mayor’s wife was among them, her expression hollow. When their eyes met, Temperance found the pain on the woman’s face too much to bear. She cleared her throat and looked away.
“I know I’m asking a good deal from all of you, but capturing a daemon takes time. Now that I know its weakness, I won’t fail again.”
“All well and good,” the woman said, casting a hand out to encompass the crowd. “But you got to sleep sometime. What’re we to do if the daemon returns and you ain’t here?”
Nods rippled through the crowd, and more than a few grumbles. The mayor held up his hands for silence. “I know you’re worried Salina, but if we form nightly patrols, we can keep the town safe.”
“I have a plan for that too.” Temperance paused, waiting until the crowd ceased its grumbling.
“And what is that? Don’t just keep us standing here, I got dinner to be fixing.” Salina glared at her.
Temperance swallowed, trying to decide how much truth to tell these folks. She noticed Reverend Reynolds standing near a far table, shotgun in hand. Their eyes caught before he returned to watching the fields.
I’ve got to tread careful here. These folk are on edge enough, no sense giving them more ammunition against me.
She went with a half-truth. “I call myself a Pistol Witch, not a Warlock. That’s not just about what’s between my legs. I have access to certain skills that others do not. One of these is a spell of protection, something that can keep you safe even when I’m not nearby.”
The reverend’s head snapped in her direction. He took a step towards the crowd, but before he could do anything else the mayor spoke up. “Why didn’t you use that last night?”
Temperance could hear the question underneath: Why didn’t you save my boy?
“I lost my horse, remember? All my supplies were with Astor here. Now that he’s been recovered, I can help your people proper-like.”
“What exactly are we talking here?” the mayor asked.
“She’s talking about sorcery.” Everyone turned and looked at the reverend. Several people in the crowd gasped, and Jonas Mason turned red enough in the face he looked like he might melt, but Reynolds had eyes only for Temperance. “The girl is talking about eternal damnation for us all.”
“It’s not sorcery. It’s . . . .” Temperance struggled for the right word, then hit on a moment of inspiration. “It’s witchcraft. No different from the powers inside my hexbullets.” That at least was true enough.
The crowd settled down at this. Reynolds opened his mouth to speak, but the mayor overrode him once again. Temperance could almost have sworn the man was doing it on purpose. Not that she would complain.
“What are you gonna do?”
“I’ll inscribe a circle around any house that wishes my protection. Until someone from within walks through it, nothing outside can cross. A mudslide wouldn’t break the spell; even something as powerful as this daemon beast won’t be able to so much as scratch any of you.”
“You ain’t using your filthy powers on my house.” Jonas piped up. He looked at the gathered crowd and raised a fist. “C’mon, we’re better than this! We can stand against this creature on our own, just like always!”
No one in the crowd joined Jonas in his cry. Even Salina Felts looked thoughtful, Temperance was pleased to see. It seemed she had the town’s support, at least for the moment. That would make the next few days a bit simpler.
After that? Well, she doubted anyone here could match Astor’s speed if the two of them decided to get while the getting was good.
John nodded, appearing satisfied with this turn of events. “If that’s all settled, let’s get back to work. Still plenty of fields to clear and hours of daylight left to do it. Marie! Any chance of some dinner before I get working?”
The crowd dispersed. Before Temperance could even relax her shoulders, however, she felt a hand clamp on her leg. Astor let out a low whinny of warning.
Reverend Reynolds stood next to her, looking angry enough to chew nails and spit out corkscrews.
“You may have fooled the rest of these country bumpkins, but do not mistake me for such. Those are dark powers you’re meddling with, girl, no matter what name you give them. We both know exactly what the good book says in that regard. Forget you not the words of Second Johan, verse twelve—suffer not a sorcerer to live!”
With that the reverend turned and stalked off. Temperance watched him go, unsure if she had come out ahead with this plan of hers. Not like she hadn’t expected resistance from the holy man, and it could have been a Hell of a lot more, truth told.
She noticed the mayor was still in the clearing along with a few others. Swinging down from Astor, she waved to him. “Mister Cullings! A moment?”
“Yes?”
“Might I inquire about accommodations? I’m not too particular, perhaps you would permit me the use of your barn loft?”
“Barn?” The man blinked at her, then crossed arms over his enormous chest. A smile crept onto his face that Temperance didn’t like one bit. “No, that won’t do! Can’t have our resident Pistol Warlock—er, Witch, sleeping on a bed of hay!”
Temperance doubted that there was a mattress in town stuffed with anything else, but kept the thought to herself. “There’s no need to go to any trouble. Don’t want folks thinking I’m trying to take advantage of you.”
“Horse feathers! I have just the idea. Hey, Jonas!”
The pocked man was also still in the clearing, speaking in a hushed voice with Cyrus Hander. He looked up at the sound of his name, eyes half squinted in suspicion, as if he could already sense what was afoot. The mayor grinned even wider, if that were possible.
“Ain’t you got a spare bedroom in that house of yours? I know you do, your Flora is sleeping in one of mine now. Ho
w ‘bout we have Miss Temperance here stay with you awhile? Who knows, maybe that godsliness of yours will rub off on her.”
“This a request, or an order?” Jonas asked. There was an edge to the question that made Temperance itch for her weapon. She glanced between the two men. How much of this conversation was about her, and how much was simply the latest in a long line of clashes and petty feuds?
The mayor never lost his smile, but Temperance could hear the chill in his voice. “Either is fine by me, so long as you keep her under your roof. We good here?”
Jonas stared at him a moment before spitting off to one side, and the fire went out of him. “Yeah, we good.” He looked at Temperance. “Just don’t be expecting no dinner, we ain’t fancy like some folk in this town.” His gaze flicked towards the mayor, then back. “You be at our house at sundown for supper or you don’t eat, you hear?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem, I reckon.”
“You reckon?” Jonas spat again. “If you were my daughter I’d take my belt to you for that kind of lazy talk.”
He turned away, then glanced over his shoulder. “And get yourself cleaned up. No self-respecting woman is sitting at my table smelling like that.” He wrinkled his nose and trudged off between the tables.
Temperance scowled after the man, then gave herself a cursory sniff once he was out of sight. Jonas Mason might be a piece of scrum, but he wasn’t wrong, neither. It had been too many days since any part of her had seen a bar of soap.
Astor cantered up and nuzzled her shoulder. Want me to set my teeth in him? Nobody ever blames a horse for biting them.
She rubbed Astor’s head in reply. “Let’s see about finding a river.”
Fine, just don’t expect me to clamber in there after you if something happens. Rivers can be mighty nasty this time of year.
“Excuse me.” Temperance turned and found herself staring at the slim girl from earlier that morning. What was her name again? Ruth? “I overheard you and Papa. If you like, I can show you to the local swimming hole. It ain’t what you call warm, but shouldn’t be froze over yet, neither.”
“That would be right nice of you.” Temperance nodded, and the girl beamed. She swung up onto Astor and held up a hand. Ruth hesitated a moment before clambering up behind her.
“Just follow that path there,” Ruth said, pointing towards several distant trees.
As they set out, Temperance felt a shiver run across her skin. A chill breeze spun around them, the first harbinger of snowy days soon to come.
Chapter Eleven
They spent the first fifteen minutes in silence. Temperance couldn’t tell if Astor was setting a leisurely pace to keep up the appearance of a more normal horse, or if he was just enjoying being outside.
Not that she blamed him. It was a beautiful day, for all that it was cold. The sky was an endless blue canvas stretching away towards the horizon, the sun overhead serving as the centerpiece. Every plant in the forest tilted skyward, trying to grasp what last bit of warmth they could before winter came upon them.
Whenever she glanced back at Ruth, the girl appeared focused on the path, eyes not even flickering to see what was around. It occurred to Temperance that there were few horses in Shady Hollow, and those that she had seen were mostly being used to pull a plow. Perhaps this was Ruth’s first time on horseback? It would not have surprised Temperance to learn the girl’s father denied her even the simplest of pleasures. The man seemed like the sort.
“So what’s life like in Shady Hollow?” she said at last, more wanting to break the silence than for any need of information.
She felt Ruth shrug and tighten her grip on Temperance’s waist. The girl must be new to horses if she was that worried about falling off. “Not much to tell. Seems like you met everyone already.”
“Towns are more than just the folk who live in them. What do you all do here when you’re not planting crops?”
“You mean like for fun? Lot of the kids go to the swimming hole in the summer months, of course. Papa says I ain’t supposed to go there no more though, not since . . . um, I guess it’s been a long while.”
Temperance couldn’t help smiling at that. Ah, the plight of girls with overprotective fathers the world over. That might be me if Da had lived. I’d be arguing with him right now over who got to take me out dancing, instead of riding from one side of Korvana to the other.
As if reading her thoughts, Ruth continued, “There’s also a few dances, like the Springmelt festival, or the Harvest Social. That one should be any day now, once we finish bringing in the last of the corn.” The girl shifted in the saddle. “Papa’s probably noticed I’m not out helping with that by now.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let him know you were showing me a place to clean up. He was the one that asked so nicely, after all.”
“Might be better if you didn’t. Mention it, that is.” Ruth looked away, and they lapsed into silence again. Astor’s hooves clopped against the wet earth, setting a steady rhythm that could almost have lulled Temperance to sleep. It hadn’t been an easy last couple of days.
Thinking over the morning’s events, Temperance realized that she had never finished her earlier conversation with Ruth. “What were you going to tell me about David?”
“Nothing, ‘sides what I told my Papa and Mister Cullings already. David and I talked a day or two before he vanished, but if he was leaving he kept quiet ‘bout it.”
“Did he have problems with anyone in town? Anything that might have been worth forming a pact over?”
Ruth was silent a moment. “Can I ask you something first?”
“Don’t see why not. What do you want to know?”
“I was wondering . . . .” The girl cleared her throat, and sounded as if she was trying to hold back tears. Maybe it would have been better to save questions about her betrothed for later, but it wasn’t like there was time for the girl to grieve proper. Temperance needed answers sooner than that.
Ruth continued. “It’s just . . . what are these pacts you all keep going on ‘bout? What’s this got to do with the daemon?”
The question caught Temperance so off guard she almost fell off her horse. “You don’t know? Didn’t your parents ever warn you about accepting offers from strangers?”
“Not many strangers come through Shady Hollow. Before you we ain’t seen nobody since the reverend and his men showed up. That was . . . two summers ago, I think?”
Temperance made a note to revisit that comment later. “Well, what do you know about daemons, then?”
“Just what they tell us in church, I guess.”
In other words, not much. Temperance tried to think where to begin.
“I guess to start off, you should know that daemons aren’t the same as us. They don’t have a body of their own somewhere. Instead they need a human like you or me to let them inside if they want to get up to mischief.”
“Why would somebody do that?” Ruth asked, sounding shocked. “Doesn’t having a daemon inside kill you?”
“Eventually. But there are also advantages. Daemons have certain rules they have to follow.”
“Rules?”
“Yep. If you tell the daemon to do something, once they control your body they have to do it. That’s why people offer themselves. Sometimes there’s something a person wants bad enough it’s worth killing themselves over.”
Temperance shrugged. “Of course, more often the daemon tricks a host so it doesn’t have to agree to anything. They aren’t creatures that like to be stuck doing a human’s dirty work.”
“But that’s what might have happened to David? You think he made a pact with this daemon?”
“Honestly? I don’t know what’s going on. Leaving messages isn’t exactly the style of the daemon I’m hunting, so a pact seems likely. Could be that it’s just trying to keep everyone on their toes, though. Or maybe this is all one big joke. Hard to say.”
Around a bend in the trail, a pond appeared, surrounded by leafless willow tre
es. A small stream fed into one end, and someone had left an old rope hanging from a willow branch at the other. Probably an idyllic place to spend a summer afternoon. Right now it just looked cold, though.
Temperance slipped from Astor’s back. “It’s no heated tub, but I suppose I’ve had worse. Bathed in more mountain runoff than I care to think about back in Cold Valley.”
“Cold Valley?” Ruth slid off Astor, looking like she was afraid he might kick her at any moment. Temperance cursed inwardly, and busied herself fetching soap from a saddlebag so she didn’t have to look Ruth in the eye.
“So you don’t know any reason David might have given himself to a daemon?” she asked, trying to draw the other girl’s attention from her own little slip.
“No. I mean, both him and me hated Shady Hollow, but we just wanted to leave it, not hurt nobody.” Ruth crossed her arms, hugging herself tight. “When they found his bed empty, I knew he’d left without me.” She looked on the verge of tears again.
Temperance hung her hat and jacket from a willow branch, trying not to look too close at the holes by the elbows. She would need to patch them tonight. Even if they didn’t keep bullets out, it wouldn't do to chafe the material on the sleeves any further.
“Why did you both want to leave so bad?” She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it near the water’s edge. Everything she was wearing would need a good scrubbing. Fortunately there was a clean outfit in her bags, otherwise she was likely to die of chill today if she had to wait for everything to dry out.
Her riding skirt went next. It was not like the soft things worn by most women along the eastern seaboard, but cut from rough canvas by her own hand. Temperance was rather proud that it had stood up so well to months on the trail, but even so it was in desperate need of stitching in a few locations. Perhaps when she had a few moments she might attend to it.
Curse of the Daemon Beast Page 8