by TJ Reynolds
As night came, Alysand said he was going to head out and ask around, and when we made to follow, he just shook his head. A couple hours later, he showed up and told us the scant news he had scrounged up. Apparently, several other notable members of Gilsby had gone missing or left to seek safer prospects, and all since the new sheriff had come into town.
Alysand grumbled, almost to himself, “Calls himself Embers, I hear. What sort of man goes by such an odd name? Anyway, tomorrow, we will seek this person out. It may come to violence, but I’ll gladly do so if it means finding some real answers.” As Alysand spoke, it seemed his attention was divided, as if he was speaking but if asked, couldn’t tell you to whom.
We agreed and let him know we would be there to back his move. He just nodded and then told us he would be sitting for first watch.
I woke for third guard and spoke with Pachi for a time. It was amazing how perceptive she was of human behavior. Who knew so much of what we were thinking and feeling could be smelled with the right nose?
I am afraid for him, Pachi said. A creature without fear is a dangerous thing, Hana. Fear keeps us all sensible. The gunsinger has never felt dangerous to me before, she complained as she chewed on a leftover bone. A butchered deer was brought that afternoon, and though our animals had finished it happily enough, they were nonetheless still hungry.
I responded, grateful to be able to speak without making a sound, That makes sense to me. I’m just so sad for him. He is the sweetest man, for a mysterious killer at least. And this woman, Delilah, meant a lot to him. The look on his face when he heard the news was enough to break anyone’s heart.
There is a saying the Bardeen have. Every beast is born with two hearts. When your first heart breaks, you change entirely. Suddenly nothing makes sense, or everything makes a new kind of sense. But one can recover from this. But when your second heart is broken, too, the very soul is in danger. I am afraid that Alysand might have had his second heart broken. A man his age has no doubt already felt the sting of loss too many times. Only great strength and love can pull him from his misery.
I thought about her words as the time slipped past us. The house moaned its own lamentations, and I took solace that at least the man had fallen asleep.
As I was about to wake Madi, Pachi suddenly lifted her head, her golden eyes taking me in. Hana, I smell smoke! Wake the others. She stood up and nipped at Tejón’s leg.
I kicked Madi and crossed over to gently shake Alysand. His hand darted out like a viper and gripped my hand. “What is it? It isn’t time for my watch yet.”
I started at my wrist until he noticed and dropped it. Then I explained, “Pachi smelled smoke. Something is wrong.”
No sooner had I finished than the breathy sigh of flames could be heard. Out the side window of the barn, an orange glow blossomed.
Alysand hissed, “Fire! Everyone outside and prepare for an ambush.” He pulled his pistols free and pushed at the back door of the barn. It wouldn’t budge.
The man raced to open the door leading into the house but winced as he touched the doorknob. The fire had already taken the house, it seemed.
We all had weapons in our hands at this point, and Madi was about to hack into the barn door with her axe when Alysand held up a hand. “Wait—strike here instead,” he said, pointing to a support beam on the wall. “Someone has bolstered the doors, but this is old lumber. It shouldn’t take much.”
Madi lifted her axe, and sure enough, in a single strike, she cut through the beam. She followed it with a kick, and the side wall buckled outward, a gust of cold night air filling the room.
Alysand ducked out quickly, and as we were grabbing our gear to follow, three shots rang out.
It took another few kicks to make a hole wide enough for Tejón to follow, but in under a minute, we were standing in the street watching Alysand’s home burn to the ground. Three bodies lay crumpled, one still holding the torch he must have used to light the fire.
Remembering the driftwood roof, I realized how easily the house must have caught fire.
We checked for any other enemies but found none. The men had all been carrying crude rifles. Alysand retrieved and stowed them in his satchel of holding, and we mounted up.
He stood up and ordered, “Follow me and follow closely. Hana, keep your bow ready. If we meet any resistance, fire away, but do not stop.” Then the man wheeled on his horse and galloped away. Pachi and Tejón took off after him.
The streets of Gilsby blurred past us, haunted in the dark.
As we turned a corner, our party startled a group of men holding torches and more rifles.
Alysand’s pistols barked out in challenge and the men in the front slumped to the street, dead on the spot.
Three men remained, one already lifting the long barrel of his gun to fire at Alysand’s back. I launched an arrow at him, piercing his neck from the side. He dropped next to his unwieldy weapon and it discharged, sending sparks across the cobbled street.
I drew and fired another at the man next to him, taking him in the chest. The final man had just enough time to scream as Madi fed him the blade of her axe.
There were no other interruptions, and soon enough, I realized we were headed back to the lighthouse.
I dismounted from Pachi’s back as we stopped at last and watched as Alysand entered the base of the tower and started the walk up the steps. Madi looked at me with a grim expression, and I just shook my head. It was embarrassing and terrible to have been there to witness the gunsinger as he lost every lovely thing in his life.
As we made a pile of our gear and found a place to rest, all that I could hope for was that we would be there when he gained just a little bit of it back.
4: “Madness, as you know, is like gravity, all it takes is a little push.”
— Matilda, the Clown
ALYSAND
The weaponsmith was the first place I planned on stopping by that morning, but when I got there, I saw that the door was locked, and a small closed sign hung up. Yet another of my contacts had been ruined, then. How many of my old friends had died or run away recently?
I walked to the chapel, which was nearby. I wanted at least one more account of this Sheriff Embers before I confronted the man. Information was the sharpest weapon, Corbrae used to say.
As I walked, I passed a little girl walking with her mother. Both had the deep brown eyes that were unique to this part of the world. Not any brown, but one filled with copper threads that went from a sullen dark hue to majestic with a single mote of sunlight. Eyes like Delilah’s.
My chest began to constrict again, so I pushed the thought away. I pressed it back like the guilt that coiled there, a snake that was stronger than I was. It writhed in a mass of questions. What if I hadn’t left to take my last commission? Had she thought of my actions as betrayal? And of course, what had they done to her before ending her life?
Hana and Madi walked behind me. They knew I was a broken thing now and seemed to walk around me like they were halfway across a frozen lake when the ice began to buckle. I couldn’t blame them.
The church’s doors were open. That at least hadn’t changed. Inside the muted harmony of an organ filled the main room. How sound could be so tangible had always been outside my reckoning.
A familiar voice called out, and I turned to see the face of Pastor Hendrick. “Mr. Deschaney, is that you?”
“In the flesh,” I replied and shook his hand. The man was astute as ever. Without asking, he knew that I had heard of Delilah’s end, and had the good taste not to point it out. He simply gripped my hand in his a moment before pressing on.
“We haven’t seen you in town for over a year now. What is it I can do for you?”
I sighed and glanced around. Only Hana and Madi were there besides the organist, a woman as old and faded as the walls. By the look of it, she hadn’t realized anyone was here at all.
Trusting the man, I let my thoughts tumble out. “I have noticed several upsetting changes. All
of my friends seem to have died or gone away. All I’ve gotten to explain this is a torch in the night, a handful of dead men, all holding rifles no less, and the word of a thirteen-year-old girl. Nora from the lighthouse told me that the sheriff is not a good man. Can you tell me anything more about his character or actions since coming to town?”
The man’s eyes searched my own. Sorrow and even a touch of fear hid there. He came to a silent decision and spoke in a low voice. “Name is Embers. No, he is not a good man. Nora has the right of it. Brought a band of of men with him, all with shadowed faces. They all came from the south, at least that’s what they’re telling us. Shortly after, people began to disappear. I am not sure why this man came or who he works for, but if no one stops him, Gilsby will be a faded memory.”
I nodded, taking in his words as they came. “Seems to me it already is, Hendrick. I’ll leave you with this, though. Either I’ll be one more to fall, or else the man will come to terms with his sins. I’m headed to the sheriff’s station right now. Thank you for your time.”
Pastor Hendrick lifted one hand feebly, as if wanting to slow my progress or give me some warning. I turned, though, and left the man muttering a prayer.
“Are we going there now?” Madi asked as I walked toward the first place I should have visited since coming into town.
My response sounded distant as I trudged away. “Yes, ma’am.”
Hana jogged to catch up and called out, “Wait. Pachi and Tejón haven’t come back yet. They should be done hunting in a couple of hours. Let’s just wait.”
I shook my head. “Can’t do that. I believe I’ve heard quite enough.” I stopped then in the middle of the road and turned to my companions. “You do not need to come with me, but know that I am going to meet with this man at once. Do not try to stop me.”
I hadn’t meant to sound so cold, but both of the girls winced. Well and good, then. At least they knew my mind. As I stepped onward again, the sound of two pairs of boots followed me.
A few men littered the front of the sheriff’s station, one nursing a bottle of liquor, two others playing cards at a small table.
Another, a young woman with circles under her eyes, held up a hand to stop me, “Hold there. What’s your name?”
Since she wore a pistol on her hips, I did not mind twisting her hand from where it had clutched at my coat sleeve.
She winced and backed away. I stepped inside and saw an empty jailhouse collecting dust.
“Where is Sheriff Embers!?” I shouted, making the few people who had been in the street scatter like leaves in the wind.
Someone behind me said, “I’m right here. Just needed to ask. No need to bully my deputies.” I spun to find a young man with a haggard face, his blonde hair coming out of a wide-brimmed leather hat.
Madi and Hana had spread out. Their weapons were in their hands, and the few “deputies” had taken positions as well.
The young man continued, “And you are the valiant and ever-so-famous Alysand Deschaney. Am I right?”
“I am. We need to talk. What do you know of Delilah’s murder? And what, for that matter, do you know of the arson and attempted ambush that occurred last night at my home? Speak quickly or die.”
Laughter was the first response I received. “The woman from the lighthouse, eh? I admit, the job was sloppy. Not by my hands, though. If it had been me, the fisherman would have pulled her body from the bay after it had been chewed on for a week.”
“Who then? Who ended her life?” I asked, a note of desperation leaking into my voice despite my efforts.
“Allies of mine. The one I work for is very powerful and has much influence in this part of the world.”
I spat on the ground between us. “The Rat King, you mean. A vile creature that will not survive the year.”
Embers held my gaze easily. Despite an obvious lack of character, the young man certainly had spine. “He goes by many names. I even got to meet him, and though he was once a ratkin, he has been transformed. His name is Dintheel, and to be frank, he has better manners than you.”
So the rat had taken a name for himself. Its meaning tugged at the back of my mind, but I was too distracted to remember what Dintheel meant. And it didn’t matter.
“And what of the burning of my house, or the disappearance of so many in town?” I demanded. “If you had nothing to do with Delilah, what about the rest?”
Embers examined his fingernails for a moment before answering. “We burned your house down. Would have been convenient if you’d stayed put. Now I’ll need to carry out my orders in public. The people of Gilsby have suffered enough.”
My face flushed with rage, and again I had to check myself. I could not explode here. Too much was at stake. “So, what is stopping you now? What other than cowardice stalls your hand?”
“Well, we are having a nice chat, aren’t we? I hear they had a long discussion with the lighthouse wench too.”
“You son of cabrón! Don’t mention her again or I’ll make your end long and painful.” Again, my vision swam with repressed rage.
“Lovely threats. The old bastard had a mouth on him, too. What was his name? Corbrae Cadogan, wasn’t it? Don’t take the time to remember dead men’s names, so not really sure.”
I winced. How did this man know about my master? “Corbrae has been dead for two years now. Why bring him into this?”
The smile on Ember’s face was almost enough to push me over the edge. Why was he so smug?
“Two years and a month,” the man said. “I should know. I’m the one who killed him.”
“Bull! There’s no way some young fool like you could draw on Corbrae and live. Even at his age, he was the fastest gun in Mariandor.” My words were pressed through gritted teeth.
The smile fell from his lips and he said in a flat tone, “I poisoned him. He took me as his apprentice, then I killed him with a few drops of Wolf’s Bane. That man sure loved his coffee, and so bitter he couldn’t taste the difference. Then when he was weak and fevered, I used an old-fashioned knife.”
“Lies! You speak nothing but lies!”
In answer, Embers pulled back the edge of his coat and revealed the handle of a mithril revolver, one of Corbrae’s.
Another gout of anger poured through my veins, but I breathed through it. The way of the gunsinger was a calm one. I was no vigilante, and if this man really killed Corbrae, then I would honor him the right way. I took a deep breath and surprised the man with a smile. Doubt painted his expression for the first time. The fool had no idea what he had done by revealing his weapons to me.
“I call thee, Knight of Old Gil, to account for offense taken. I’ll have satisfaction or death and I’ll have it now.” As I spoke, I felt the cords of ancient magic writhe in the pistols on my own hips, binding me in a promise that could not be broken.
Sheriff Embers’ face went pale, and his hand darted to unholster his gun. It remained in place, though. He strained against the bonds placed on him, and at last, he came to the conclusion that there was no way out of my challenge. By wearing the pistol of a bullet bard, he had bound himself to their honor.
After a moment, he had the dignity to answer. “I will account for offense given. Sword, saber, or pistol?”
“Pistols at twenty paces,” I said and walked out into the middle of the street.
5: “For my handling of the situation at Tombstone, I have no regrets.”
— W.B. Stapp of Dodge City
MADI
Everyone stood around, frozen in their tracks by the dramatic scene unfolding. Since when had EO turned into a western?
I thumbed the shaft of my axe. Personally, I’d have preferred all the talk to stop, so that we could kill these cabróns and move on. Alysand had needed answers, though, that much was clear, and though it’d taken long enough, he’d gotten them.
He walked out to stand in the middle of the street, no doubt exactly twenty paces away from the other man. I looked to Hana, and she gripped her sword in one of
her kendo stances. She was ready, too.
The thugs that surrounded us didn’t bother me much, with the exception of the woman that was rubbing the wrist Alysand had twisted. Guns shouldn’t be allowed in this world at all. At least, that is what I had been thinking ever since having the prospect of one turned on me.
Clubs and crude swords were the weapons of choice for the rest of Embers’ crew, though, and we could handle that. I wished Tejón and Pachi were here, but we couldn’t be dependent on their help.
“Prepare yourself, young man,” Alysand said, and the man who faced him finally put his hand on his pistol.
Embers called out to the woman with the pistol, “Tracie, shoot this bastard.” She drew her weapon, but though she strained, she could not take aim at Alysand.
Alysand’s answer was measured. “No point in that, Embers. Our pistols won’t allow interference. You’ve invited this moment. Remember that.” All of the indecision and fatigue had fled the gunsinger. He stood again as the ironclad figure we had come to rely on.
Embers seemed intent on not accepting his lot, however, and he shouted a command that echoed through the streets. “Kill the other two, then. All of you, move now!”
The woman, Tracie, aimed her gun at Hana and fired. Thankfully, Hana had activated her bone armor just in time, and though the bullet took a chunk out of the breastplate, it did not penetrate. She fired three more times, until my thrown axe took her in the shoulder. It split through her collarbone and ribs. She fell, gasping for breath.
I’d taken to carrying both of my axes since acquiring dual-wielding. I reached to unfasten the second, but I had to activate Dodge to avoid an attack from one of the thugs. Wanting to know who we were fighting, I inspected the man, kicking myself for not doing so earlier.
Southern Thrall
Level 23
HP: 6115/6115