“You’re not, Taisia,” Nona consoled her. “Pierce loves you too much to risk losing you.”
Her words would have given Taisia comfort if they hadn’t filled her with guilt instead.
Gog.
Although she suspected the man was in some way manipulating her in order to woo her, the kiss had happened. She’d wanted it to happen, and before she spoke to Pierce, she first needed to clear her conscious and tell her family about her own actions.
Just as she opened her mouth, Jasper said, “Good morning, Sees Beyond.”
“Good morning to you.”
Taisia turned to both Sees Beyond and Tarak as they approached. They halted and Sees Beyond said, “Tarak and I just had a serious conversation, one we need to share with everyone—especially you, Taisia.”
Taisia arched an eyebrow. “Oh? I’m listening.”
Sees Beyond turned to her son. “Go ahead, Tarak.”
The boy took a deep breath before saying, “Everything I told you yesterday a-about Mr. Landcross and Emma. It . . . um, none of it was true.”
Taisia didn’t move an inch, yet her thoughts raced. Did she dare believe him?
“You lied?” Nona gasped. “Why would you say such things?”
“I . . . I’m not sure why. It’s hard to explain, but, at the time, my thoughts were tangled. It was as though someone else had been inside my mind.”
What Tarak said struck a chord with Taisia.
“Like someone else was inside your mind?” Nona repeated.
“Yes,” answered Sees Beyond. “Yesterday morning, I sensed a strange presence had been inside my home. Tarak complained about his head hurting just before he spoke to you, Taisia. I spoke to my spirits about it, and later that day, they informed me that some kind of being had manipulated Tarak’s memories as he slept.”
“Eh?” Jasper chimed in, confused. “If that’s so, then why wait to tell us? Pierce returned and he and Taisia had it out.”
“My spirits advised me to let it rest and wait for the truth after Tarak had enough time to regain his own memories. If I had drawn any attention to it beforehand, the one who caused this may very well have found out and kept the lie alive inside Tarak instead of letting it pass through after the damage was done.”
Taisia never had any interest in the supernatural. Despite the things she’d seen and experienced, she preferred to keep her feet well planted on the ground. Perhaps that was because there was nothing supernatural about her or any of her known relatives. She was simply an ordinary person, living an extraordinary life with the people she had met. Yet Sees Beyond and her son’s news astounded her so much it caused her to drop her plate.
“Taisia?” Nona said. “Are you all right?”
Taisia looked to her with eyes widening. “Gog.”
“Come again?” Jasper joined in. “Did you say Gog?”
“Who is he?” Sees Beyond inquired.
“We met at the Majestuoso Dance,” Taisia explained. “He has come to me since. He . . . he came to me this morning when I went for a walk.”
“He knows how to find you?” Nona asked, worried.
“I think he’s always known,” Taisia stated with a dash of dread in her tone.
“What the bloody hell does he want?” Jasper demanded.
She looked at him. “He wants me to be his bride.”
“Oh, bloody hell.” Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose.
Taisia rushed away. “I have to look for Pierce.”
“Wait!” Nona called. “We’re coming with you.”
Taisia, Nona, and Jasper mounted three horses and rode toward Guaymas. They took it slow, for Taisia hadn’t forgotten about the dangers she could inflict on her baby if she rode too fast. Steadily, they made their way toward the city in hopes of locating Pierce before he left to search for the last outlaw.
Jasper’s voice broke the silence. “What is that?”
Taisia raised her chin and spotted a group of people blocking the road. They weren’t dressed as locals. They wore tattered, layered rags that fluttered in the wind that was blowing in from off the nearby ocean. Their fairer skin and soulless eyes told them they didn’t belong on this earth. Not anymore, at least.
Standing in the middle of this odd line of people was Gog.
“Hello, Taisia,” he said.
They halted their mounts, and dread came over Taisia.
“What are you doing here, Gog?” she demanded with forced bravado. “I told you to leave me alone.”
A very dirty man with a long beard standing next to Gog turned his head to him with a puzzled look. “Is this true?”
“Not now, Magog,” Gog snarled. He returned his focus to Taisia and began to approach her. “I’ve come for you, my love. I have waited long enough.”
“No!” Taisia exclaimed, shaking her head. “I don’t want to go with you!”
But, Gog kept approaching.
“It’s all right.” He held out his hand. “In time, you will see how we’re meant to be together. You, me, and the children. We’ll be a family.”
“Stay back!” Jasper yelled, aiming the flintlock rifle he’d borrowed from Mohin. “Get away from her. I’m bloody warning you!”
The gun blew up in his hands in a quick burst of sparks. The explosion burnt his hand, causing him to drop the weapon. His horse went into a sudden panic and started bucking wildly.
“Stop it!” Taisia hollered to Gog.
Her words fell on deaf ears. The horse jumped and bucked until it had thrown its rider off. Jasper landed with a cry.
“Jasper!” Nona cried, dismounting. She ran to his aid and helped him to sit up.
She turned to Taisia and yelled, “Run! Go back to the village!”
Taisia wanted to stay and defend her loved ones, but she had a child inside of her to protect. When she tried to steer the horse around, however, it refused to move.
“Go!” she ordered the animal while kicking its sides.
It did not. Instead, it began lowering itself to the ground, tucking its legs underneath its belly. Another one of Gog’s tricks. When her feet touched the ground, Taisia stood and got off the animal. Gog soon stood before her.
“I know you want to be with me.”
“No. I love Pierce.”
He smirked. “You won’t for long.”
The world dimmed. There was no warning.
Before everything went black, she heard Nona calling out, “Leave her alone! She isn’t yours!”
Her words mattered little to Gog, who had come to claim his prize.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Arrow
Pierce rode to deliver the troll to the sheriff. He didn’t give a toss about what he’d say about him bringing in another dead outlaw. The troll wasn’t exactly human, anyway. It could have easily escaped, so, in hindsight, Pierce had done the lawman a bloody favor. If the knobhead had any quarrel about it, Pierce would simply take it up with the mayor. Yet, he found he didn’t need to fret about an altercation once he’d reached the jailhouse.
“They shot each other?” he asked in French.
“Oui,” said the only French-speaking lawman inside the jailhouse. “No one knows why, but they killed each other last night, right in here.”
Pierce looked at the bloodstains on the floor and ceiling. The undertaker had already collected the bodies. Other than shocked, he didn’t know how he felt about the sheriff and deputy’s untimely demise. He decided to wash his hands of it and pay a visit to Mayor Nicolás Belén, after all.
“Ay, ay, ay, ay!” the pudgy mayor exclaimed, aghast, when Pierce dumped the hideous creature on the floor of his office. “It is a troll! I haven’t seen one since childhood.” He pressed a handkerchief to his nose and mouth as if the thing stunk. Despite how it looked, the troll emitted no odor. “And are you certain this creature helped with the robberies?”
Pierce reached into his nearly empty rucksack. “His outfit matches the description. Including this.” He brought out th
e gasmask.
Mayor Belén took it in his free hand and studied it. He then dropped it onto the body.
“He had no money with him, I’m afraid,” Pierce reported. “Trolls usually keep their stolen goods well-hidden.”
The mayor nodded. “That they do. But, do not fret. We will recover from the losses nonetheless.”
“Does this mean the Apache tribe is safe?” Pierce inquired hopefully.
“Ah, sí, Señor Landcross. Your debts are paid.”
It had been ages, it seemed, since mere words had made him feel so relieved.
“To tell the truth,” Mayor Belén added, “I was never going to give authorization to the late Sheriff Flores to do those people any harm.”
“Really?” Pierce said, arching an eyebrow. “So, I’ve been frantically running about, chasing these sods under false pretenses?”
“Not entirely. If you had failed, the sheriff would have hanged you and your posse. Well, not that beautiful señorita, Rojas. It would be a real shame to waste such a natural beauty as she.”
“Aye, a real bloody shame,” Pierce grumbled.
He bid the mayor goodbye and left for the hotel to meet up with Jaxton. When he arrived, he discovered him already waiting.
“Great news,” Pierce announced. “I caught the dwarf.”
“You’re joking. How did you find him?”
“Actually, the cocker found me. In fact, he wasn’t even human. It was a bloody troll.”
Jaxton snarled with disgust. “A troll? I loathe those nasty things.”
“Aye, can’t argue with you there.” He clapped once. “You’re a free man now. The mayor himself told me we’re all squared away.”
“Really?”
“Yep. S’pose you can head back to Monterey.”
“Indeed. I’ll set off in the morning.”
Pierce held out his hand. “I reckon this is it. Cheers for your help.”
“I’d say it was loads of fun knowing you,” Jaxton said, shaking his hand, “but you’ve really been a thorn in my side.”
“Aye,” Pierce agreed, pulling his hand away. “I’ve been told as much. Goodbye, lad.”
He turned to leave when Jaxton called out, “Oi! Since we’re not hunting any more bad guys, I’m going to hunt me some rattlesnakes.”
Pierce was puzzled. “Pardon? Rattlesnakes?”
“Aye. For my tonic. You wanna come?”
Pierce thought about declining, but then he gave the offer deeper thought. Why did he need to rush back to the village for? He’d eventually return, no question, and hopefully, have a reasonable conversation with his wife. That could wait, though. Taisia expected him to be off on his manhunt anyway, and another day apart might do them both some good.
Pierce shrugged. “Why the hell not?”
They mounted up and rode miles out of the city.
They came to a place of high cliffs where the sun blazed down, sizzling the top of Pierce’s head. He sorely wished he hadn’t made such a dramatic exit from the village without his top hat.
“Have you done this before?” Pierce asked, treading warily over the rocks.
“Aye, many times. Snakeskin and rattle necklaces sell fairly well. Plus, they make good décor for the wagon.”
Pierce crouched by a stone and wedged a broken piece of wood under it. “I spoke to a Chinaman about your snake oil. Turns out, it’s actually a ligament remedy. The Chinese brought it over to use for their pains while they labor away building railroads in parts of America.”
“I know,” Jaxton stated matter-of-factly. “Where do you think my dad got the idea from to sell it? Snake oil is also supposed to be sold as a solitary product, advertised as a cure-all remedy.”
Pierce looked over his shoulder at him. “You don’t say. Why sell them differently, then?”
“Instead of peddling a single cure-all bottle, I can earn more by selling them as individual products. Usually, someone has more than one thing wrong with them, so they’ll buy more bottles. I simply change the color of the tonic and advertise them as remedies for different ailments. Just add a little food coloring and voila, done!”
Pierce snorted and turned back to the stone. “Interesting. How long have you been selling this stuff?”
Jaxton looked under a rock, holding his machete ready to strike. “Since I was a kiddiwink. Me dad sold it at carnivals around the city. He used to get many wallopings when people found out it didn’t work.”
“And yet, you’ve taken up the reins?”
“I travel, mate. Up and down the coastline. I’m long gone before they make any discovery. Not to mention, if you pitch the product right, you’ll create the perfect placebo effect. People will actually believe it works.”
“Uh-huh,” Pierce said, rising to his full height after finding nothing. “By the by, cheers for telling Emma where to find me last night.”
“She went to you, eh?”
Pierce knelt beside another rock. “Aye.”
“And?” Jaxton asked with heightening interest.
“And I told her I’m spoken for.”
Jaxton’s grin dropped. “You’re telling me you two did nothing?”
“Yep.”
“Bloody hell, mate, are you sure you’re not a poofter? A woman like that . . . even I’d be all over her.”
Pierce tutted and lifted the rock with the board. A snake lashed out at him.
“Christ!” he screamed, falling backwards.
“You found one!” Jaxton shouted gleefully, hopping over the rocky ground toward him, wielding his machete. There was a warning rattle that came from the snake’s tail before Jaxton chopped its head clean off.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Pierce gasped while standing. “It nearly bit me.”
“Aye,” Jaxton agreed, sacking the dead snake. “Best watch it next time.”
“I think my snake hunting days are over.”
“Shush,” Jaxton hissed suddenly.
Pierce went on the alert. He unholstered his revolver and scanned the area. There were rocky cliffs that surrounded them in a horseshoe-like enclosure, leaving only one way out.
“What is it?” Pierce whispered.
Figures appeared from the top of the cliffs.
“Shit!” Jaxton exclaimed in a panic. “Shawnee!”
They dashed off toward their only escape route.
“You said this area was safe!” Pierce yelled, jumping from rock to rock.
“I lied!”
A blast echoed out and fragments of rocks scattered into the air. More bullets whizzed by, smacking the ground around them. Pierce had been warned to stay out of the Shawnee territory. He should have asked more questions when he set off with Jaxton. They reached their horses and mounted up.
“C’mon,” Jaxton ordered, steering his horse about-face.
“Go on ahead. I’m heading for the Apache village.”
“Don’t be a drongo. Guaymas is much closer.”
“I’ll be fine. Just go.”
The two split ways. Pierce rode steadily past tall rocks, heading for the road.
He felt a sharp pain as if a bullet had struck him in the left shoulder blade. No blast had sounded. Pierce fell right off his horse and hit the ground hard. His entire body felt broken. His mount kept running, abandoning its rider. In Pierce’s present state, he couldn’t chase after it. He looked over to see an arrow sticking out of his shoulder.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered.
The jagged arrowhead had pierced the bone and sliced into his flesh.
Despite the pain, he needed to find a hiding place. It was a struggle, but he managed to get to his feet. After stumbling between some tall boulders, he came across a small hole in the cliffside. He wasted no time crawling inside.
He expected it to be just a hole, but it kept going, and so did he. The arrow scraped against the rocky ceiling, tearing his flesh apart and eventually forcing him to crawl on his belly. The light faded behind him and the grotto opened up enough to where he could s
tand a little. He groped blindly, following the wall running alongside him.
The constant breeze indicated that the cave had more exits, yet where any of them were was anyone’s guess. The wall stopped, and Pierce’s hand dipped into a hollow space. He surmised he had walked into a cave chamber. It was small, he estimated as he groped around in the pure darkness. Finally, his knees buckled and he collapsed on the rocky floor beside a boulder. Pierce worked to sit up against it. The wound in his shoulder made it difficult to move. Darkness surrounded him. Warm blood slid down his back and arm. The throb of his wounded shoulder thumped sharply from the inside out.
Idiot, he thought to himself.
He should have gone with Jaxton. He’d feared, however, that if he hightailed it to town, the Shawnee might search for him, making the road back too dangerous. Now, he was trapped. Perhaps they wouldn’t search for long, and by nightfall, he could escape. It was his only chance. He only hoped he wouldn’t bleed to death first. He caught sight of something, and it made him shake. Thankfully, he had managed to keep his hold on his gun the entire time. He needed it more than ever, especially as the light of a fire drew closer.
Chapter Thirty
Sun Catcher
Jaxton rode on until he’d reached the city. He’d had it with Guaymas and the whole of southern Mexico. In fact, he was seriously considering never returning at all! If he did, he’d be sure not to stick his neck out for anyone ever again. Jaxton wanted to get an early start on his journey north, so he decided to collect his horse and wagon from storage located on the other side of the city where Leonardo had lodged them. When he arrived, the owner looked uneasy when Jaxton told him he was there for the snake oil wagon.
“Go on in, señor,” he said unsteadily. “The . . . the stable hands will help you hitch your horse to the wagon.”
“Um, gracias,” Jaxton said with an arched eyebrow.
He went in through the door leading into the barn area. Soon after stepping in, he stopped cold. His wagon had been ransacked! Just about everything he owned in the world was scattered all over the place. Bottles of his snake oil were smashed and sitting in puddles of colorful liquids. The rear door of the wagon had been kicked in, obviously by the ruthless intruders. What was painted on the side of the wagon chilled Jaxton to his core.
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