The golem marched toward Tiberius with its fast but intermittent strides. He held his ground. “Leave. I won’t stop you, even if that betrays everything I stand for. Let my people be. They deserve a glimpse of happiness. So do you.”
Miss Gray shut her eyes. “Quiet.” The golem trembled in place, inches away from his face.
“You have no right to make others’ suffering worse just because you’re unable to carry your own.”
“I said quiet!” she screamed. Her shriek thundered across Main Street like a war cry. The golem hammered Tiberius shoulders until his legs bent and he fell on his knees. It gripped his neck, tight.
“You forget I lost three of my new children because of you, Sheriff. No matter, with time I’ll make a hundred more. Right here. Souls Well is our home now, not yours. Tell me where Bennett Rowland is.”
Tiberius kept quiet. She whipped the side of his face with her cane. “I won’t ask you twice.”
“Leave the kid alone,” he wheezed. Warm blood poured from his ringing ear.
“There aren’t that many houses left. I can knock on every single door until I find him. Or you can direct me to the correct one. Your choice.”
The choice she offered was no choice at all. But to remain silent and welcome a quick death would be an act of cowardice. Only a handful of people can carry the rippling consequences of an impossible decision. Tiberius wasn’t sure he could ever be one of them. But he would have to be. Souls Well balanced on the tip of Miss Gray’s cane. He coughed, pointing at the frosted hand constricting his windpipe.
“Unhand him,” Miss Gray ordered. The golem obeyed. “So, what will it be, Sheriff?”
Tiberius coughed and spat. Between the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed a man approaching from the opposite side of the street. “Bennett’s gone,” Doc Tucker exclaimed. He pointed a blackened derringer at her. Against all odds, his hand was steady. “I sent him away.”
She dismissed the explanation with a dry snicker. “My children blocked the roads. Wherever away means, it can’t be all that far. Tell me, my good doctor, where he is.”
Doc Tucker cocked his weapon. “Leave us alone.”
The golem turned his attention to the doctor. Tiberius sprang to his feet, but everything around him spun out of control. His feeble neck was incapable of holding his buzzing head straight. His legs caved in as if made of wet paper, and he soon kissed the ground. A hoarse warning hardly made it out of his injured throat. “Run away, Doc.”
Doc Tucker shot point blank. No bullet would stop the ice man as it glided toward him with the speed of a sleigh running downhill. The creature reached the astonished doctor, slapped the pistol out of his hand, and punched him so hard he crashed against the balustrade of the saloon.
“Bring him closer,” Miss Gray directed.
The golem dragged Doc Tucker by his left leg. It raised him by his cravat and forced him to look up. Its cold fingers moving slithered around and inside his shirt’s collar.
Miss Gray swiped the doctor’s broken spectacles. She held them against the sunlight. “I apologize for my child’s roughness. He’s so protective of his poor, old mother.” She placed them back over his dripping nose. “I respect you and your profession, doctor. I’ll give you another chance. Where is Bennett Rowland?”
“Far.”
Miss Gray sighed and clicked her tongue in disappointment. “So be it.” She raised her palm. The golem placed his fingers right below his prominent Adam’s apple.
“I’m right here,” a young voice shouted. Bennett Rowland stood in the middle of the white road.
Miss Gray smiled. “Come along, my dear. I won’t hurt you.”
“Don’t listen to her. Get out of here!” Doc Tucker yelled.
The golem muffled his mouth with his hand. She widened her grin.
Bennett crossed his arms over his chest and straightened his back. “Promise to leave my father and the rest of Souls Well alone. No more killing.”
She bowed her head. “I promise. Now, come.”
He shook his head. “Let Doctor Tucker go.”
“As you wish.” She swayed her arm with disinterest. The golem upped Doc Tucker by his shirt and threw him against Tiberius. Both men rolled on the ground.
Bennett walked to Miss Gray. Not one of his steps faltered. Not once did he lower his head or look away from her hateful and maddened gaze. Tiberius could hardly recognize the sullen boy who’d entered his office two days ago, carrying a shovel as if he carried the weight of the world. The West had finally caught up to him. The West always cut childhood short. For Bennett, as for many more before and after him, adulthood would come and childhood would end as the ultimate sacrifice.
Miss Gray guided Bennett into the snow tunnel between the Silver Moon and the boarding house—the same place where the carpenter died. The same place where Tiberius feared winter might never pass for the first time. The golem followed them close behind. It punched the frozen archway until the entrance to the passageway collapsed and they all disappeared behind a veil of ice dust.
Doc Tucker staggered to the closed tunnel. He dug with his own two hands, wetting his raggedy mittens. His fingertips reddened. Blood appeared under his nails. Tiberius wobbled to his side, ears still ringing, throat burning, breathing in fitful, gravelly huffs and puffs. He tapped the doctor’s shoulder. “That’ll do no good, Doc.”
“We have to stop her, Tiberius.”
“We will. But we need help. Don’t worry, we still have time.”
Tiberius wanted to believe his own words. He did.
But he felt he might be, once again, lying to the face of a desperate friend.
30
Oscar Landon and his men devoted themselves to breaking down the ice wall. They used picks, shovels, and steaming teapots filled with water the girls from the saloon kept heating for them to soften the stubbornest spots. The former miners had responded diligently to Tiberius’ request for help. A kid was trapped inside a snow passage. That’s all they needed to hear to jump out of bed, if they were still sleeping, or sober up if they’d started their breakfast early or still carried the haze of the night before.
No one asked any further questions, and Tiberius gave no further details, even if Doc Tucker’s disappointed eyes drilled the back of his neck when he, once again, stayed within the safety of another half-truth. But in Souls Well, half-truths had always proved useful, necessary even. Shadowed facts helped the sheriff keep the peace. Or had the whole tactic become an excuse for Tiberius to keep his role as the town’s sole protector? He’d rather not wonder. If he dug deeper, he might find he amounted to nothing without the tin star pinned on his vest. Especially after Landon declined his offer to help crack the blockage with a cryptic excuse: we should all stick to what we know how to do.
Luke Masterson worked as hard as anybody else but kept glancing over his shoulder to the corpse of his late cousin, now resting at the curb under a clean sheet—a white lump almost indistinguishable from any other pile of snow, if you skipped the pair of old boots showing under its bottom. Tiberius and Doc Tucker watched the working men from the opposite side of the road, leaning on a hitching rail covered in frost.
“Souls Well honors its name, claiming yet more souls,” the doctor said. “Either the town ends, or we all will.”
“A town is a town. Good and bad things happen everywhere.”
“You don’t believe that.”
Tiberius evaded an answer. He looked at his reflection on the closest window, tapping the purple finger marks around his neck. “I hope these go away.”
Doc Tucker shrugged. “What’s but one more scar? Wouldn’t be the first nor the last.”
“True enough.”
They both kept quiet, watching the frightened faces of their neighbors peeking out from windows and doors set ajar.
“What if she’s already killed him, Tiberius?”
“She hasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“She
plans to turn Bennett into one of her ice statues, but she needs to build one from scratch. And she only has one golem left to help her. That will take some time.”
“Enough time for us to get to Bennett first?”
“I hope so. Miss Gray’s too far gone to talk her out of hurting the kid. We could kill her, but I’m too wary of her creatures going berserk. She’s also losing control. That’s good. The golems respond to her emotions. They become sluggish when she’s rattled. I’ve seen it happen. If we can daunt her enough to break her focus, we might have a chance. The miners will clear the tunnel soon.”
Doc Tucker rubbed his arms together to gain some heat. “Magic potions, dead coming back to life, now golems made of ice… I always tried to see the world through a scientific lens. Now I don’t know what to think. I feel the world is crashing down around me or has left me behind.”
“Alchemy is a science. At least that’s what they all tell me.”
“Not one I’m interested in studying. And neither should you.”
Tiberius turned in his heels. He stood in front of the doctor with his arms crossed. “I have no interest in alchemy or any of its followers.”
“Who are you kidding? It intrigues you, and it doesn’t frighten you. That’s only the beginning. What about Iris?”
“What about her?”
“You almost left to become her apprentice.”
“That’s not the reason I almost left.”
“Then why? Love?”
Tiberius pondered for a second before replying. “Duty.”
Doc Tucker shook his head with a sad chuckle. “Your duty to Souls Well is ending. Maybe it already has. Mark my words: Souls Well will be no more come spring. I hope you have something else to live for than your duty when the time comes.”
A running man appeared in the middle of the road. He weaved as if drunk, a black pistol trembling in his right hand. “Bennett! Bennett! Where are you? Has anyone seen my son?” His cries were stammering and desperate.
Tiberius intercepted his trajectory. He snagged the pistol out of the man’s hand. “Why didn’t you go to the Doc’s as I told you, Silas? You’re lucky to be alive.”
Silas covered his face with his hands. He was sobbing. “I saw the ghost in the street and got scared. I hid in one of the empty houses.”
“I already told you. There’s no ghost.”
The baker raised his face to meet his gaze, round cheeks wet with tears. “Where’s Bennett, Sheriff? Where’s my son?”
“Miss Gray has him.”
“Who?”
“The old lady who came on Wilson’s stage. Turns out she’s Wang Lei’s ma.”
Silas lost his breath as if punched in the gut. “No… It’s not possible. What does she want with Bennett? Oh Lord, she killed Henry and Owen, didn’t she? She wanted us to pay for Wally’s death. She’ll kill Bennett too, won’t she? Where did she take him?” He grabbed the lapel of Tiberius’ duster. “Answer me!”
Tiberius shook him off. “Calm down, you loon. They went through the tunnel, the one by the Silver Moon. But the entrance collapsed behind them. Landon and his men will clear it soon, and I’ll go after them. I’ll get Bennett back.”
The distressed man pushed him out of the way and ran toward the snow tunnel. He tackled Oscar Landon and tried to steal the pickaxe in his hand. Oscar held on to his tool. “Stop it, Silas. What’s got into you?”
“I need to go after my son. It’s all my fault. Give me the pick!”
“Jesus! I’ll find you an extra one if you want to help, but calm down for gossakes.”
They pulled back and forth, both gripping the handle of the pick as they spun. Silas’ face reddened. He ground his teeth like a rabid critter. “Let go. I have to break through the ice. I have to save my son.”
Tiberius sighed. He walked to the quarreling men. He tapped Silas Rowland on the shoulder. When Silas turned, he punched him across the face with a fast jab. The baker fell on his back on top of a snow mound. The sheriff signaled two of the saloon girls, and they carried the mumbling man inside. His open lip left a slight trail of blood on the steps of the porch.
“Thanks.” Oscar said.
“How much longer, Landon? Time’s ticking.”
“Almost there.” Oscar bowed his head and went back to work.
“Nice blow, Tibbetts,” Turner Spade congratulated from the balustrade of the Silver Moon. Wild Card Will elbowed him and pointed to the south of Main Street. Both of their faces beamed. They jumped over the porch’s railing and buzzed around the limping couple coming toward them. The man had his arm wrapped around her shoulder and walked with more difficulty. Both of their attires were full of charred holes. Both of their faces, stained with sweat and ashes.
“Diamond! I knew you’d make it, you loon.” Will went in for a hug.
“Keep your paws off,” she snarled. “It stings like a—”
“Sheriff Tibbetts,” the Chief called.
Tiberius came closer and cocked his chin to him. “Glad to see you. Beast’s no more?”
“It eventually melted.”
“So did the church,” Diamond added. “But the flames went no farther.”
“Father Darley’s not gonna like that.”
Doc Tucker joined the group. He examined the blisters and burns on the pair’s skin. “Not too bad, but they can easily get infected. You need to clean and dress the wounds. I have a honey and calendula ointment that might help with the scarring and inflammation.” He handed the Chief a set of keys. “You’ll find everything you need in my practice. Go ahead. I have to stay with the sheriff.”
Tiberius had the perfect excuse to refuse and send the doctor with the injured away from danger. Instead, he heard himself agreeing. “You heard the man.” He bobbed his head to Will and Turner. “Be good boys and give ’em a hand, would you?”
They nodded emphatically. “Sure thing.”
“So, you’re fine with us doing this together?” Doc Tucker asked, watching the group’s slow march in the distance.
“I guess I am.”
“Thank you.”
A loud crack caught their attention. They moved back to the snow tunnel, where Oscar Landon was widening a rift on the blockage with his shovel. “It’s big enough for one person at a time to crouch through.”
Tiberius clapped his back. “Good job.” He squinted into the dark crevice. “It’s awful dark in there.”
Doc Tucker waved a lit oil lamp in front of his face, smiling. “I’ll light the way.”
They exchanged a quick smile, warm and nurturing like a spoonful of soup in a chilly night. Tiberius moved away and let the doctor through. When the light of his oil lamp twinkled inside the rift, he followed.
He still hated tight spaces.
He still hated walking a tunnel, any tunnel.
But his worst memories seemed at ease under the doctor’s guiding light as they dove deeper into the darkness and the cold emanating from the frozen walls.
31
Doc Tucker waved his lantern around the dead end of the tunnel. The body of Henry Albers was no longer encrusted in the ice, but the frosted bloodstains remained like a garland of red roses. The whole place breathed with grimness and death.
“They’re not here, Tiberius.”
“They have to be.”
“We’ve walked the whole length of the tunnel twice. There are no corners or places to hide. It just goes forward till it ends.”
“We’re missing something. Let’s go back. This time walk slow and keep your light on the ground.”
The halo of the oil lamp changed the color of the snow to a rust orange. If it weren’t for the chill that caressed their faces when they walked to close to a wall, they could’ve pictured themselves exploring a fire cavern, the insides of a volcano.
“So many footprints,” the doctor grunted. “Too much coming and going.”
Tiberius pointed to a pair. “Those are different, deeper and better defined. But I cannot make out where the
y lead. Could you make a full circle with the lamp? Left to right. Don’t rush it.” He followed the yellow gleam with his eyes. “Wait. I think I see something.” He crouched and picked up a brown mitten half buried in the snow. “This is Bennett’s. Come closer, Doc. Point your light to this side.”
Doc Tucker adjusted the spectacles over his nose. “This part looks smooth. Almost like a mirror.”
“It sure does. Wait here.”
Tiberius reached the entrance to the tunnel and talked into the small crack. “Landon? You still there?”
“Sheriff?” he replied after a few seconds.
“Could I borrow a shovel?” He waited until a handle appeared in the hole. He grabbed it and pulled the shovel inside. “Much obliged.” He walked back to the doctor. “Step aside.” He hit the smooth wall until it cracked enough for him to peek inside. “Landon?”
“Yes?”
“I found another passage. I’d guess it goes northeast. What can you tell me about it?”
“I can tell you we didn’t dig it.” Oscar’s muffled voice responded from the outside.
Tiberius turned to the doctor. “Miss Gray has been busy.” He swung the shovel with a full twist of his body. The impact cracked the fake wall enough for them to pull out a section and squeeze through. He placed the shovel over his shoulder. “Well? What are you waiting for? You’ve got the light, Doc.”
They wormed through the secret passage, so narrow their shoulders grazed both sides at all times, and they had to take their hats off to allow enough headroom. It meandered without a definite direction. Tiberius stopped. He shook his head to clear the sudden daze fogging his senses.
“Are you all right?” Doc Tucker asked.
“Past’s catching up.”
“Remember, this isn’t the mine.”
“I know this isn’t the goddamned mine.”
Doc Tucker turned to face him. His lamp blinded him for a second. “Come on. It’ll be over soon.”
They pressed on. The snow tunnel twisted into the darkness. Its floor turned steeper. They soon had to press their hands against the uneven frozen walls to keep their feet from slipping. The air lost some of its crispness as they followed the downward slope, deeper into the entrails of Souls Well, but it also became denser, almost hard to breathe.
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