by R. J. Blain
“I’ve a wire here, and I’ve a fresh horse. I’ll hit the road as soon as I get the confirmation they’re ready for me. Who should the bill go to?”
“President Adams.”
“Right up to the top? Must be some message.”
“It’s important. You got a classified stamp?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Stamp it.”
“Wax seal, too?”
“If you’ve got a warmer.”
“We’re fully kitted. Give me ten minutes, and you’ll be on your way.”
“That’s great. Thanks, Leo.”
As promised, it took him ten minutes to get the wax warmed so he could seal the envelope with an official courier seal, send a wire to set up the relay, and prepare the letter for its long ride to Charlotte. His horse, a tall, leggy bay mare, snatched at the bit when he went to bridle her, and she stamped the ground, eager to hit the road. “Beautiful mare, Leo.”
“I took your advice and went south for a horse. I caught her on the tail end of winter when she was hungry and cold, and convinced her she liked to be fed and kept warm in exchange for outrunning the wind. I can’t match your asshole blacks, but she comes close. Maybe we can try a race sometime?”
“Catch up with me in Charlotte, and we’ll race some horses. I’ll even coerce some equines into shifting for us and competing.”
“Who do you know who’d let you do that?”
“Oh, just the guild leader of the Lancers’ Alliance. I’ll beg one of his sons to give his father some competition. It’ll be fun. I’m positive I can coerce him into it.”
“I would pay good money to watch you try.”
“It’s on, Leo. Catch up with me in Charlotte sometime, and we’ll do just that.”
“Not going back to Wyoming yet? That’s your usual haunt. You’ll kill my success record if you stick around here, Runs Against Wind.”
“I’m mostly off circuit right now, so your record is safe. My shoulder’s still busted up, and my little mare here needs some conditioning before she’s ready for the road in earnest. We’re just getting some exercise tonight, and that business came up.”
“Isn’t that the way it always goes? You take care of yourself. I’m assigned here for the next three months, but I’ll come up to Charlotte and see if you’re in town then.”
I saluted him, swung into the saddle, and got out of his way. He touched his heels to his mare’s sides, and she bolted straight to a gallop, charging out of the small town as though a pack of wolves nipped at her heels. While he’d said he couldn’t match my blacks, I bet the mare would give Todd a run for his money and then some, and while Devil Spawn liked chasing the wind, I doubted she’d beat the bay on a short track.
Few could match my horses in an endurance run, but they worked as hard as I did.
I’d have to condition them for long rides again, but they’d find their stride soon enough, assuming their age didn’t start catching up with them.
In reality, I had no idea how old my black beauties were, and I dreaded the day they showed signs of being ready for retirement.
Once Leo and his horse were out of sight, I followed after him at a trot, went far enough nobody in town could see what I was up to, and circled around to bypass Little Wacammaw in search of the cylinder someone planned to use as a weapon against my home and family.
I found the first body not far from Little Wacammaw, and the poor bastard and his horse hadn’t been dead long. Miracle trembled, and I stroked her neck, wondering if I should tether her and walk on foot. I dismounted and searched the man’s corpse, finding another letter similar in content to the first. Several hundred dollars filled his wallet, and I took the money, as I didn’t want it falling into the hands of anyone who had tortured and killed so many horses for the sake of triggering a civil war.
While it wouldn’t bring the poor chestnut back to life, I stroked her head and wished her spirit well.
When I straightened, I unholstered Todd’s gun, loaded the chambers, and dumped extra bullets into my pocket so I’d have enough rounds to kill every last one of the bastards responsible for the horse’s death.
She’d deserved better than a slow, torturous demise.
I mounted and angled Miracle in the way it looked like the fallen pair had come, relying on the Hope Diamond’s light to navigate the forest. Within a few minutes, I found another horse’s body, the corpse at least a few days old and still wearing its tack. I gave the corpse a wide berth, curling my lip in a snarl over the waste.
A trail of bodies, man and horse alike, led me east. The glow of a small fire, likely birthed by some Starfall stone or a small combustion zone, guided me the rest of the way, and the presence of several sick, dying horses told me everything I needed to know.
The men at the fire would die, and I’d abandon my ethics for quick, humane, ruthless, and unexpected. I dismounted, as I expected the sound of gunfire would terrify my mare. I tethered her to a tree trunk, crept closer to be in good range, and counted corpses unaware they breathed their last.
Six men would die, and I’d practiced enough in Wyoming with every gun I could get my hands on I’d make sure they’d all die without having to reload Todd’s colt. Setting my stance, I raised the weapon, picked my target, and fired. The weapon bucked in my hand, and I switched targets, cocked the pistol, and fired again.
Two shots, two bodies.
Shouts of alarm and screams broke the quiet of the forest, and without remorse, I picked my target, waited for my victim to stop long enough for me to be sure of my aim, and fired again.
His body fell, too.
The three remaining victims scattered and attempted to flee, but they couldn’t outrun a bullet. No one could.
Around my throat, the Hope Diamond glowed with a red light, as though it took delight in the blood I’d shed. Maybe later, I would hate myself for what I’d become and done, but with the bodies of tortured horses around me, with the memory of Miracle’s suffering still too fresh in my mind, I refused to feel anything other than satisfaction over their swift demise.
Miracle trembled but stood her ground, and I praised her for her bravery, kissing her nose. “It’s all right, baby. They’ll never hurt you again.” I untied her reins and tossed them over her head so I could mount.
A seventh figure rose and bolted for the forest, and my mare screamed a challenge, bolted from my hold, and charged towards the camp. She crashed into the man. He screamed, but not for long.
Miracle reared and slammed her hooves into his fragile skull, ending his life with a crunch. Then, because once wasn’t enough, she trampled him until I gathered her reins and pulled her away.
She blew air, stretched her neck towards the body, and snapped her teeth.
“Easy, Miracle.” I pressed my hand to her chest, which was wet with blood. Afraid she’d gotten hurt trampling her foe, I checked her legs, but she had emerged from her rampage unscathed. She snorted, but she backed down, although I read her body language as ready, eager, and willing to stomp on the corpse some more.
To keep her out of trouble, I tethered her to the tree and examined the body.
It didn’t take me long to discover a metal tube which fit the description of the cylinder, and something about it made the hairs on my arm stand on end. Then, with a furrowed brow, I examined the bodies of the men I’d shot to discover they, too, were covered in boils and had lost most of their hair.
I didn’t need anyone telling me the bitter truth: I carried death in my hand, and I would share their fate. How long it would take, I had no idea, but I feared the worst.
Miracle would be my best chance of getting rid of the weapon before it could kill anyone else, but I balked at the idea of exposing her to whatever it was that did such a good job of killing horse and man alike. I wanted to set her free so she could run and live, but if I did, would I make it to the ocean before the tube’s contents killed me and anyone else it came into contact with?
Some ch
oices weren’t choices at all. Hating myself for what I needed to do, I shoved the tube into my pocket, wondering how something no longer than the length of my hand could create so much misery. Then I untethered Miracle and prayed to the uncaring, unknown gods for forgiveness for what I had to do.
I expected the ride to the ocean would be my last, and my loyal, precious little horse would see me through to the bitter end.
I touched my heels to her sides, and we galloped towards the churning sea.
Chapter Eighteen
I struggled to believe something as insignificant as a metal tube could ruin everything I held dear. In the hours since claiming it from the band of traitors, a headache tore through my skull and brought dizziness and nausea in its wake. I tasted fouled blood, a promise I lived on borrowed time.
It was all I could do to point my horse east and find the ocean so I could search for the Creek Bore. It would serve my purpose, and I wished good fortune on the station attendant who told me of the spot and what to look for.
Miracle galloped without floundering, and the Hope Diamond gleamed with a bright light, which infused my horse. I hoped it protected her from what would kill me—and had killed the men determined enough to kill themselves transporting the tube towards Charlotte to destroy everyone and everything I loved.
Disbanding all mercenary guilds and implementing martial law would bring chaos and rebellion. Killing the top mercenary guilds might lead them to success.
None of them would live to learn from their mistakes.
I refused to regret killing them for what they meant to do. If given a chance, I would slit the throats of any who willingly participated in a scheme meant to murder my loved ones, my family, and my mate.
Miracle slowed to a walk, whinnied, and turned her head to bump her nose against my knee. The salty scent of the sea teased my nose, promising we’d soon reach my goal. I leaned forward and stroked my hand over her short, patchy and bristly coat. With time, she’d truly heal—assuming I could get her away from the weapon’s lethal reach. Assuming the Hope Diamond wasn’t protecting us from the tube’s vile influence. Todd would help Miracle if she escaped its influence alive, and he’d repay my debt to her for having carried me so far on such a hopeless venture. It didn’t matter how things ended for me. He knew I loved my horses.
He’d remember me through her.
So would Anatoly.
They would treasure Miracle as much as I did.
Had another choice presented itself, I would’ve taken it without hesitation, fighting for survival despite the impossible odds I faced. But no other ways had bubbled to the surface, not without sacrificing others.
There were a lot of people between me, Anatoly, Todd, and my family. Those people had families, too. They had lovers. They had friends. People like sweet Leo, a passing friend and hard worker, would die as well.
No matter what, the tube and its lethal contents needed to be destroyed. I couldn’t afford to give anyone an opportunity to reclaim it and use it. I couldn’t allow them to find more Starfall stones and have them breathe life into their vile weapon.
The lethal ocean and its devouring waves could take the weapon far from human reach. My aunt’s name for the damned thing still bothered me.
Nuclear power sounded so pure and innocent to me.
It was anything but.
In the light of the rising sun, I guided Miracle to the ocean’s jagged shore. I searched until I found the abandoned town of Sandy Creek and the promised Creek Bore, dismounting near where the currents transformed into a hungering beast, devouring anyone foolish enough to dip even a foot into its depths. In the Hope Diamond’s light, which spilled out over the ocean as far as I could see, the water boiled as claimed, stretching out to where light gleamed over massive waves that broke before cascading down and settling as its fury calmed when it reached the shore. I set the tube onto a nearby rock to buy enough time to set my mare free. I lifted my hand and brushed my fingers against the Hope Diamond wrapped around my neck. With a mind of its own, the Starfall stone did as it willed, but it sometimes listened.
Maybe it would listen.
Maybe it would gift my mare with a vibrant life, one without illness. If I could, I would have taken Miracle’s lingering pain onto my dying shoulders and bought her a chance for a better life. I would take whatever illness the tube inflicted on her with me until the sea claimed me and the weapon as its own. Seizing the diamond, I clutched it until the metal of its setting bit into my skin along with the many diamonds encrusting its surface.
My blood seeped into the deepest crevices of Embracing Hope, and through the gaps between my fingers, a bloody light shone.
Miracle snorted, turning her ears back. Her white-rimmed eyes betrayed her fear, but as she had from the day she’d first carried me, she endured.
For me, she’d done more than endure. She’d given me her life without condition or regret. She repaid my compassion for her with unconditional love, something I still struggled to understand.
There would be no chance for me to learn, not now.
But I would send my mare to those I cared for the most, and I would hope she would be enough to convince them I’d made my choices for their sakes. For mine, too. With my free hand, I fumbled with my sword’s belt, loosening it and securing it to her saddle. Todd’s prized colt went into a saddle bag with the ammunition.
I kept the letters I’d found. The couriers would send word to Dawnfire, and they would have time to act. They would be able to prepare.
They would have the dates, the times, and the places where treachery would happen.
Through her, my voice would reach beyond my watery grave and whisper of my love for them. While too late, if I ever had another chance, I’d make sure they heard, from me, that I loved them and hadn’t chosen as I had without doing my best to claw my way back to them.
I stepped away from Miracle to keep her safely out of range of the tube and its wretched contents, I picked up my death in my free hand. I tightened my grip on the Hope Diamond.
The stone’s dark miasma continued to pour in the gaps between my fingers, reminding me of a simple truth.
Where a Starfall stone went, catastrophe surely followed. When a Starfall stone glowed, wise men ran.
If it would save my beloved Miracle, if it would give me the strength to dispose of the weapon meant to kill everyone I loved, I would dance in its light and beg it to burst. I would allow it to devour me if needed, to earn enough of its favor to save my mare, my mate, and my family.
Asking a stone to help a horse counted as an act of folly, but I’d found the end of my road, and I didn’t want the animal to share my fate. “Please,” I begged in a raspy voice. The taste of blood intensified, and I wondered what had torn my throat up so much it bled.
Or if I bled somewhere deeper.
The Hope Diamond’s dark miasma shrouded my hand, and sparks of blue danced over my skin. It reached out for my mare, engulfing her before she could do more than whinny her alarm.
The darkness faded in the time it took me to suck in a breath.
I barely recognized the mare left in the wake of the Hope Diamond’s display of power. Instead of a paler coat, the golden we thought would eventually color her coat to dun, she’d become a black beauty of a horse, the match of Dipshit and Devil Spawn. She remained small but otherwise perfect in every way. A pale gleam drew my eye to her brow, and a blaze the same shape as the Hope Diamond graced her brow.
“Find Todd,” I ordered, hoping the mare would remember the stallion and the first of the commands I’d tried teaching her. Devil Spawn understood the order, although she rarely obeyed, and while Dipshit would obey, he’d find some way to surprise me—and Todd—by the time he finished being an asshole.
Miracle backed away and made a low, distressed sound, but she whirled and ran the way we had came.
I hoped she found him or ran away long enough I’d be far out of her reach before she returned to find me. Either would work.
She’d be safe. Those I left behind would search for me and find her. Todd would care for my horse, and he’d recognize her from her small size and spirit. Her new blaze would give him pause, but he’d figure out she was mine. And if he didn’t, Anatoly would.
My katana and his pistol would be all the clue they’d need, although my mate would smell me on her, unless the Hope Diamond’s dark light had erased all evidence of my scent. I wouldn’t put it past the stone.
It had a mind of its own.
With luck, the sea would claim us both. The Starfall stone, capable of shaping an entire continent, might change the ocean, too. Could it calm the churning seas beyond the questionable safety of the shores? I doubted anything could, but I’d seen enough miracles to understand it might be able to do anything, even bring back the dead.
Everyone believed nobody could be brought back from the dead, but the longer I lived, the more I wondered. If any stone could, it was the Hope Diamond.
Perhaps it brought so much destruction to so many to pay the price of saving lives—or bringing them back from death’s door. I’d been to death’s door once. While recovering, plagued with more illnesses than Cleo or Henry could readily count, I had vague memories of the mystics warning Anatoly I still might die despite having survived through so much.
Of the memories of my illness, that one had remained with me.
Anatoly hadn’t taken the news well. Until then, while I’d heard Anatoly ask favors of people, he’d never begged.
He’d begged for them to do what they could.
Begging wouldn’t do me any good, but if I’d thought begging might help, I would’ve asked for everything. I wanted it all. I wanted to destroy the metal tube and its lethal contents, and when I finished my work, I wanted to return to everyone I cared for—and who cared for me.
