by A. M. Burns
“You did save me this afternoon, my dear,” he replied. There was a gruff tone to his voice, and Gray Talon wondered if he appreciated being called Corny. “So let’s go find our table.”
Moments later they were all seated. Gray Talon scurried under the table as any self-respecting lapdog would do. He carefully settled himself between Sarah and Daphne. The lizard smell rolled off the young woman. She’s definitely the dragon’s daughter. But surprisingly she remained utterly silent as a waiter took their orders. Dabinshire ordered her a large rare steak. Gray Talon looked at the woman’s feet and caught a glint of metal just above her ankles when the brown skirt she wore rode up due to her seated position.
“So, McNair,” Walfred began after the waiter walked away. “How quickly can you create your metal men?”
“I can create ten every two weeks,” the earth mage replied. “It is a very delicate and tiring process.”
“So if I’m interested in acquiring four hundred, we’re looking at over a year to have them all ready?” Walfred didn’t sound pleased.
“Not at all,” McNair countered. “I could supply you with three hundred tomorrow and the rest by the first of the year.”
A loud creak emanated from the railroad man’s chair as he leaned forward. “And all these are already programmed to build railroads?”
“They await the programming, but that’s the easy part. Simple spells, if you would. That will only take a few hours, once we have received your payment.”
“You do understand, Cornelius, we don’t program them until we get our money. Otherwise, if you were to back out, we’d have to go through the lengthy process of getting them unprogrammed for you and programmed for someone else.” Dabinshire’s voice was soft. “You wouldn’t want us to have to find another railroad to buy these workers, would you?”
“Of course not.” Gray Talon could smell the sweat that suddenly rolled down the portly man. “I’ve checked with my bank. They tell me that as soon as I wire them the instructions, they can have promissory notes wired to your bank while they ship the gold overland.”
“You don’t trust the railroads with your gold?” A hint of amusement colored McNair’s voice.
“At this point, the stage is still faster,” Walfred countered. “Once we’ve got your metal men working on building new railroads, that will all change. The stagecoaches will be a thing of the past for long-distance travel.”
“That they will,” McNair agreed. “It may even be that the horseless carriage will replace them for local travel as well.”
“I know a number of inventors back east that are working on them, but none of them are as nice and clean as the one you use.” Walfred changed the subject. “The steam I saw coming out of yours was only minimal. Are you using a different power source?”
McNair nodded. “I’m experimenting with a couple of different things at the moment. I’m not ready to release any of my ideas on that just yet.”
Gray Talon wondered what Trey would find when he explored around the ranch. In addition to finding out the way to free the souls of the metal men, would he also find this mysterious energy source that powered the horseless carriage? After hearing more about the strange magical chaos out there, he wanted more than ever to shut the two men down.
“So what about this new iron Dabinshire was talking about this morning?” Walfred went back to their business talk. “When will it be ready for my men to look over? And can we include it in the sale of the metal men?”
“It should be ready by spring,” McNair said. “If I’m going to need to create a hundred constructs for you by the first of the year, that’s going to take priority for me.”
“Then I’ll need to make another trip out west at that time.” The railroad man nearly moaned.
“With any luck,” Dabinshire said, “we can bring some to you. I’m hoping to need to come to Washington this summer for a project we’re working on. It could be most interesting.” Under the table, unseen by any except Gray Talon, the man’s foot slid up Daphne’s leg in a most unfatherly way. It took all his willpower not to shift to a bear right there and rip the man apart.
22
“YOU CAN use the bunk over there.” Josh pointed to the corner spot in the bunkhouse. “You got your bedroll and all, right?”
Trey held up the bundles in his hands. “Yup, got them from the camp we set up this afternoon.”
“We? So there were others traveling with you?” the short cowboy asked.
“Just my sister, Sarah, and she’s managed to find something to do in town so she won’t be back out there.” Trey felt strange calling Sarah his sister. He’d never had a sister, other than the Comanche girls he’d grown up with, and they stopped being sisters years ago when they started making advances toward him and Gray Talon.
“It must be nice to have your sister close by.” Josh looked sad for a moment. “Mine’re all the way back in Georgia.”
“Georgia?” Trey dropped the pack he’d slung over his shoulder on the bed. “What are you doing all the way out here in Wyoming?”
“Came out trying to homestead. After the war, most of the land is staying in family hands, and my folks lost a bunch of theirs in the fighting. There were twelve of us kids. I’m the youngest. Figured I’d set me up a place and then find me a wife.” He shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Land’s a lot harder than back in the South—colder too. Not too many gals around here. Some of the boys are talking about getting them there mail-order brides, you know, from China and stuff. ’Course they also talk about trying to steal injun brides too. They steal our women; why can’t we steal theirs?”
Inside, Trey bristled. He knew some of the tribes would take in white women from time to time when their husbands were killed and they didn’t have any family to support them, but he’d never heard of any incidents of braves stealing white women from settled lives.
“So how does that mail-order bride thing work?”
“Well, near as I’ve been able to find out, you send a letter to this place in San Francisco along with a couple hundred dollars. Then a few weeks later your Chinese bride shows up. Some of the guys heard that they’re real ladylike and do whatever their husbands tell ’em to.”
The idea sounded too much like slavery to Trey, even if he didn’t like women for more than friends. “With what they pay here, it might take a year or so to save up two hundred dollars.”
“I thought about that too. Next year I hope I can get on the cattle drive to St. Louis. There are supposed to be lots of girls wanting to live the frontier life there. I also heard that the homesteading in the Oklahoma territory was easier. I might try that.”
“I’ve ridden through Oklahoma,” Trey said. “The climate’s milder, but the land’s just as flat and nearly as dry without all the rugged beauty you get here in Wyoming.”
“But how many girls want to move somewhere ’cause it’s pretty? They want an easier life than around here.” Josh glanced around and dropped his voice. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but from what gossip I’ve overheard, the ranch may be shutting down next year anyway. Something to do with that new steel McNair is working on. Oh yeah. You ain’t met McNair yet. He’s an odd one. He’s made all the metal men around here, even the ones out guarding the wall. You know they don’t let any wild animals on the ranch in case they might actually be injuns in disguise. They shoot anything that comes too close. But anyway, old man Dabinshire’s got him a new daughter. None of us really believe she’s his daughter, mind you. Charlie overheard Martin telling somebody the other day the girl was special and was going to bring a lot of money to Dabinshire. Martin plans to be in on it, even if it means everyone leaving the ranch when Dabinshire goes to Washington.”
“Why would Dabinshire go to Washington?” Trey asked as he spread his bedroll out on top of the mattress. And how does he plan to use the dragon’s daughter when he gets there?
“Not rightly sure. There’s this thing going right now about trying to get Wyoming stateho
od. That might be part of it.”
More of the men came in at that point, ending their conversation.
THE STRANGE energies flowing around the ranch made sleep hard for Trey that night. So he retreated to the otherworld in hopes it would be more peaceful there. The mystical plane opened up to him, and he could barely believe his eyes.
Here the land of the ranch was ripped up and bleeding. It looked like someone had gone around and mangled the very essence of what made the land… land. There were no trees here, just a barren waste that encompassed everything as far as Trey could see. He’d been in the otherworld near a desert, so he knew this wasn’t normal. As he watched, black tornadoes dipped down from the sky. They tore up the land. Dust and sand flew everywhere as the vortexes ripped up the essence of magic from the area and left great gaping holes.
Despair washed over him. It had to be Rockwall McNair doing this. The man had no idea what he was doing to the very fabric of life around the ranch. This worried Trey even more about what kind of magic he used to create the metal men. If he can do this kind of wanton destruction to the land he draws his power from, is he capable of imprisoning souls to power his creations? Trey wondered as he wandered about the desolation.
When he could bear being there no longer, he shifted to the form of an eagle and flew south in search of Singing Crow. It didn’t take long for him to clear the desolated area. Once away from there, the underworld landscape returned to normal. Several spirits patrolled the area just beyond the ruin. A huge bald eagle forced him down to the ground, where a contingent of shamans waited for him.
“Who are you that knows the secrets of spirit change, yet comes from the lands of our enemy?” a lanky shaman with Sioux war paint on his face asked.
“I am Trey McAlister of the Comanche, student of Singing Crow,” he replied, shifting back to his regular form.
“I know of Singing Crow,” another Sioux replied. “He is the greatest of the Comanche medicine men. He is one of the men who set up the guarding of this forsaken place. How is it that his student comes to be here?”
“I came seeking the daughter of the dragon of Bald Peak,” Trey replied. “I am on a debt quest from both the Old Man of the Storms and the dragon herself.”
One of the shamans nodded. When he did, the twilight passed through him in such a way that Trey realized that the man was just a spirit now. He glanced at the others and noticed similar spectral qualities to them. “I know the Old Man of the Storms. He is always trying to get people to do his journeys for him. Did he tell you he wouldn’t rain on a particular place on a certain day if you would do this for him?”
“He did.”
“So the dragon did something for him, and he gets you to do something for him. He is a crafty old spirit. A master at bargaining is what he is.”
“Are you the spirits of the fallen from the war that was fought here ten years ago?” Trey asked.
The talking shaman gestured to the other gathered spirits with a wide sweep of his hands. “We are. We took it upon ourselves on that day to watch over this place and make sure Rockwall McNair cannot extend his warping of the world beyond this place.”
“But I thought there would be more of you than this.” According to legend, many hundreds of the People had died during the days of the conflict between McNair, Dabinshire, and the People.
“There were,” the first shaman said. “But about one turn of the seasons past, we began to disappear. Something is pulling us into the place of destruction.”
“But I didn’t see anyone there as I came out this way,” Trey said.
“That is what we have feared. Something is dragging us back to the real world. Someone out there has the power to break our watch on this land.”
“Does McNair have that kind of power?” Trey asked. “Could he command souls?”
“When we fought him ten years ago, he was just beginning to use his power. He was younger than you and had no teacher to tell him right from wrong. We approached him in peace and told him that the wall he was building was twisting Mother Earth in ways that should not be done. We asked him to return things to the way they had been before he started his wall. He didn’t listen. We fought him, but his magic was too strong, and he turned the earth against us. If you’re indeed a student of Singing Crow, then you know we failed to stop McNair. Even the might of the People joined against him couldn’t stop him from completing his wall. Now the earth warps more with each use of his magic. There must be something you can do to stop him.”
Trey nodded. “That is what I am trying to do. We have discovered that Dabinshire and McNair now control the dragon’s daughter. And they built an army of metal men that have magic at their hearts. I am trying to figure out how to free her and stop these metal men, but the magic at their hearts is too strong for me to break on my own.”
The Sioux shamans consulted for a moment. “Do you know the type of magic that McNair is using, other than just earth magic? It takes more than earth magic to do the things he can do.”
“I agree.” Trey sighed sadly. “That’s why I was in search of Singing Crow this night, to try to find out what advice my teacher might give me to help me fight.”
“We have much knowledge among our collective here. Let me call us all together this night. We’ll leave some of the border unguarded, but it’s no worry. Stopping McNair is more important than keeping watch right now.” The first Sioux sat down on the ground and began to chant. From east and west, more spirits arrived. None came across the desolate expanse Trey had flown. None would dare cross McNair’s territory.
23
BY THE end of the morning, Gray Talon wondered how people could stand to ride long distances in carriages. In his poodle guise, he accompanied Sarah and Walfred out to the Dabinshire ranch the day after their dinner. As expected, Walfred wanted to see the facility where McNair created the constructs. The railroad man insisted that Sarah accompany him if she didn’t have any other pressing plans. The woman coyly accepted, and right after breakfast they embarked on the road to the ranch.
All the way, the two discussed boring mundane European things that didn’t make much sense to Gray Talon. They talked of the entertainment in New York, which Sarah said she had never seen, and at which Walfred insisted that she must go back east with him when he returned there in a few days. She’d dodged that question several times by deftly changing the subject. On one such dodge, she learned that, like Dabinshire, Walfred was a widower and more than a little lonely. The woman played his ego like a brave beating a drum. Although she hadn’t allowed him any liberties, she had him eating out of her hand.
Gray Talon shivered as they passed through the huge fortlike gate. He didn’t want to try to get out of the ranch on his own after trying to get in and being shot at by the constructs on the wall. Remembering Trey’s assessment of the land around the ranch, he wished he could see the devastation for himself. But even up on the seat, he had difficulty pushing aside the heavy curtains that covered the carriage’s windows. Sarah was so wrapped up in manipulating Walfred that she didn’t notice his efforts to see out, and he didn’t want to draw the railroad man’s attention by barking at her.
His sensitive canine nose did pick up the difference when they crossed the line between the devastation and the green area nearer the house. The air lost most of the dry dusty smell and replaced it with a lush greenness. Several minutes later the carriage came to a stop and the driver opened the door.
Dabinshire and Daphne stood waiting for them in a large open area between several buildings. The rancher was still as dapper as he’d been the previous day, and the dragon’s daughter looked drab and bored. Gray Talon wanted to find some way to free her, but that would depend more on Trey’s magic than his might.
“Cornelius and Sarah, I trust you both had a pleasant ride out,” Dabinshire said, stepping forward to shake Walfred’s hand. “It’s a lovely day. With fall coming, I fear we won’t have many more. Rumor has it that they’ve already had snow in the hi
gh country.”
“All the more reason to complete our business here and head back east,” the railroad man said. “We can have some pretty nasty winters there, but the blizzards you folks can get here are the stuff of legend.” He shivered.
The rancher laughed. “It’s not all that bad around here, but then we do have all the latest amenities, and with Justin around… well, let’s just say he has a way of making things downright cozy at times.”
“Oh really?” Sarah looked up at the man from under the brim of her white hat.
Gray Talon scurried off toward the corral, where he hoped to catch sight of Trey. If they were close enough, he should be able to speak to his lover’s mind.
“Trey, are you around?” he called out. He cast a nervous look over his shoulder. Sarah and the others were still talking. Daphne was staring in his direction, almost like she could sense what he was doing.
“Talon, are you here?” Trey said in his mind. Daphne looked around like she was trying to find Trey.
“Out in the area in front of the house. We need to keep this short. I think Daphne can hear us.”
“Who’s Daphne?”
“The dragon’s daughter. I found out her name last night at dinner.”
“She’s there with you?”
“Yeah. We’re all here, I’m over near the corral. I think they’re waiting for McNair to show, since he’s the only one not here right now.” He didn’t see Daphne say anything, but she stepped around Dabinshire and looked about with the intenseness of an owl trying to hear a mouse in a field. “She can definitely hear us. Don’t know anything new other than her name and she’s got some strange metal bands on her ankles.”
“Like slave shackles?”
“Exactly like that, only a bit more ornate. Did you find out anything?”
“Gray, come here, boy!” Sarah called.
“All the shamans who died in the war are still outside the wall in the underworld. They’re there to try to stop McNair from expanding his base of power, but something keeps pulling them through the wall.”
