by Keta Diablo
She was pausing for effect, Trip was sure of it, and yet he found himself mesmerized by her.
This does not bode well for maintaining my sanity.
"A demon’s influence is absolutely at play in this town," Ruby continued, shaking her head. "But I can sense some other presence, too. Possibly more than one. If Mr. Austin and I are going to save Rittersburg, we will need to deal with both the demonic and the phantasmic manifestations." She nodded firmly, making eye contact with each of the women standing around her. "And we will need your help to do so."
That was the first time she had used the term we to describe working against the shadowy forces they faced. Trip wasn’t certain she actually realized it—either that she had avoided grouping herself with him before, or that she had done so now—but he had become acutely aware of the way she avoided the word whenever possible. Her use of it now lightened something in his heart that he hadn’t even known had grown heavy. Even if this was mostly play-acting, he didn’t think she was entirely faking it, either.
"What can we do to help?" one plump, round-eyed young woman asked.
Ruby dropped into the role of dreamy mystic without hesitation, her eyes focusing on something far away and her voice taking on a distracted cadence. "Ah, yes. Remind me of your name, my dear?"
"Laura," the eager volunteer offered.
"Yes, of course. Laura. Thank you so much. I will need a table, preferably round, though any will do, covered with a table cloth and surrounded by the number of chairs necessary to seat as many of us as will comfortably fit. This should all be in a darkened room. No more than two candles, please. In the center of the table, please place a salt cellar and a glass of pure well-water."
Trip blinked at the oddly specific list. Ruby had both salt and water in her carpet bag of tricks. He had seen them when they were closeted together in the church.
If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he might have missed the way her eyes flickered toward him.
Apparently this was part of whatever game she was playing.
He hoped his playacting ability was up to following her lead.
The majority of the girls scattered to do Ruby’s bidding. Trip and Ruby were the only guests in the Gasthof; Trip suspected the women were eager for a bit of excitement, and a séance certainly offered to provide that.
A few of them hung back, however. One of those lingered approached Ruby. Though her tone was polite enough when she spoke, it was also determined. "I’m very sorry, Miss Silver, but I am not willing to risk my immortal soul by participating in one of these devil-rituals."
Mrs. Baumgartner snorted. It seemed the madam of the house was as skeptical of religion as she was of other supernatural possibilities.
Ruby remained calm and polite. "Of course, dear. I would ask that you, along with anyone else who prefers to forgo participating, stay together in a room as far removed from the séance as possible."
The religious objector, mouth open to speak again, paused to digest this request instead. Her mouth opened and closed several times.
She looks like a fish.
"Why?" she finally managed to get out.
"I want no spiritual interference." Ruby’s tone, vague and almost wistful only minutes before, turned severe. "And should there be any dangerous manifestations, your best protection will be your absence."
"I see." The girl scuttled into the house, followed by her associates. Trip had to wonder what kind of mental agility was required for a person to be both a prostitute and a believer in scripture.
When Laura called them into the front parlor less than fifteen minutes later, he was surprised to see Mrs. Baumgartner follow them inside, and even more surprised when she took the chair next to Ruby’s.
Trip sat directly across from his temporary partner at the far end oval-shaped table, one of the Gasthof’s girls on either side of him.
The dim, flickering light of the two candles made it difficult to see expressions, but most of the women at the table were quiet.
Ruby stood in front of her chair. "When we begin in a moment, I will ask you all to join hands. Please, whatever might happen, do not break the connection. Our handclasp is the connection that powers our link to the Other Side. We must maintain that connection until I tell you otherwise."
Everyone around the table nodded. Ruby took her seat, checked that all the items she had requested were in place, and solemnly held out her hands to the women beside her. There was a brief rustling noise as everyone else clasped the hands of their neighbors.
Trip didn’t know what Ruby had planned.
But whatever it was, it was bound to be spectacular.
* * *
Ruby stared at the water glass for a long, silent moment. Then she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, waiting for the sense of peace that always flowed through her body during a séance. It took longer than usual, but it showed up, eventually, and she began the ritual prayer she always began with. She knew the specific words didn’t matter, only her intention, but she also knew that using the same words over and over helped her manifest the power and protection she needed to do the work she had been hired to do.
Holding Mrs. Baumgartner’s hand on one side, and Heidi’s on the other, she let her voice echo from the hollow space inside her chest that tugged at her center, pulling her toward the world of the spirit, even as it also held her anchored here, in the world of the living.
"We pray for peace here now, in this circle. We pray for love here now, in this circle. We pray to be surrounded by light and love and peace. We pray for the blue light of defense to surround us. We pray for guidance from those who have passed on to the other side. We pray for the protection of those spirits who would shield us. We pray for our guardians of light to safeguard us from all harm. We pray for shelter and care as we seek to speak to those on the other side. Watch over us and guide us. In our Lord’s name, we pray. Amen."
It was an unconventional prayer, to be certain, but the other members of the séance circle were conditioned enough by church attendance to echo her final word, so that the majority of the circle added their Amens, adding strength and power to the request.
A cool breeze blew past her cheek, and to her left, someone gasped. Ruby drew in a calm breath, prepared to speak to whatever phantom had manifested itself in this house. Before she opened her eyes, though, she surveyed the room through her sixth sense, feeling out the intentions of the specter awaiting her attention.
Nothing evil.
Only good intentions.
Nothing negative awaited her. With an additional, deep breath, she opened her eyes and turned to face the spirit, prepared to begin communication.
Flint stood to one side of her, looking like he had every day of his life, wearing his usual battered brown hat—the same one Ruby had worn into town—and that gentle smile that was always only for her.
Ruby froze, her breath stalling in her chest, as if she had been dropped to the ground from a great height.
"Rowan," he said, his voice pitched low.
She gasped, dragging air into her squeaking, protesting lungs.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, and burst into tears.
* * *
Trip stared at the filmy outline of the man floating next to Ruby.
So that was Flint.
Older than I expected.
Her former partner had been enormous, a mountain of a man with steel-gray hair and broad shoulders. Assuming his shade was the same height he had been, Ruby wouldn’t have even come to his shoulder.
And that was who showed up when she called upon the protective spirits that surrounded her.
I need to watch my p’s and q’s.
Trip didn’t know how much those in the spirit world might know of what passed through a person’s mind, but the stern look he was getting from Flint’s ghost at the moment suggested that the other man’s specter was well aware of Trip’s designs on Ruby.
Trip held the apparition’s gaze for a long
moment, then tilted his head and tapped his forehead as if saluting against the brim of his hat. Flint nodded in return, then faced Ruby, and apparently began speaking, though Trip couldn’t hear what he said.
It seemed as if Ruby heard, though. Her shoulders heaved a few more times with sobs, but then she nodded and blinked away the tears from her eyes.
"I will," she said, her voice echoing oddly in the room, as if she were the ghost, rather than Flint. The rest of the séance participants gripped each other’s hands tightly, unwilling to let go of their human connections in the presence of the ghostly figure.
"And will you help?" Ruby asked. She didn’t merely sound haunting, Trip decided, but haunted.
She was haunted, of course, and this was the ghost who preoccupied her, both with his presence and with his absence.
Flint’s shade nodded, and turned to regard Trip again. This time when it spoke, Trip heard it, though he suspected no one else did.
"You will care for her," it announced, its eyes glowing with a strange blue light that added intensity to its words. "Protect her."
Once again, Trip nodded without speaking, but it appeared to be enough for the ghost, who spoke one last time to Ruby, then began to fade.
Ruby sobbed once, leaning toward Flint and looking for a moment as if she were going to break the circle’s hand-held connection, but she subsided into her chair before taking a shuddering breath and closing her eyes again.
Trip glanced around the table. The participants, for the most part, looked terrified, but continued to cling to one another’s hands.
Good enough, he decided.
Tears still glinting on her cheeks, Ruby began a low chant. "We call upon the spirits who guide us to protect us. We call upon those who surround us to show themselves. We call upon those on the Other Side to speak. We call upon those from the Great Beyond to commune with us. We call upon the spirits who guide us to protect us. We call upon those who surround us to show themselves. We call upon those on the Other Side to speak. We call upon those from the Great Beyond to commune with us."
The repetition of the lines became almost a background hum. Trip glanced around the room. Most of the women had closed their eyes and were beginning to relax into the droning sound of Ruby’s voice.
He had been around enough ghosts, however, and had attended enough séances to recognize the building of power around them.
Ruby’s chant was functioning like a spell, drawing upon the connected energies of the people holding hands around the table, building it up to a force that could open a gateway between this world and the world beyond.
Everything was going precisely as planned. Perhaps even better, as the appearance of Flint’s ghost indicated that a connection had already been made.
Why, then, was Trip suddenly filled with a sense of dread?
He wasn’t able to bring himself to close his eyes.
Hell, I’m barely willing to blink.
The tone of Ruby’s chant changed abruptly, dropping to a low growl just as the temperature in the room plummeted.
No one else around the table seemed to notice.
This isn’t good. Trip tried to extricate himself from the circle, but the girls on either side of him held his hand too tightly for him to get away.
Too tightly to be natural, for that matter.
He couldn’t make out what Ruby was saying now, but he was certain the voice coming from her throat was no longer hers.
When he tried to stand, an invisible force pressed him back down into his chair, a ghostly wind howling just beyond his ability to hear it, but causing his ears to ache nonetheless.
At that moment, Ruby’s head dropped backwards, and a booming laugh echoed from her throat. Around the table, every woman’s eyelids popped open, and they all turned to face him in uncanny synchrony, their eyes rolled back in their heads, their gazes pale and blank.
"Foolish man." They all spoke at the same time, their voices blending into a chorus that would have sounded lovely, were it not for the eerie echoing sound that he knew came from the monster he knew controlled them. "You think to eradicate us. We are legion, part of this earth for all of time, but a fraction of the land you hope to conquer. We cannot be removed."
Ice-cold fear ran through his limbs. Whatever this thing was, they had underestimated it.
Or rather, he had. The desolation underlying Ruby’s every action made even more sense now. It was more than grief, more than terror.
It was the knowledge that she would face something unconquerable and lose.
This was why she had told him she did not expect to survive the night.
Trip wasn’t sure he did, either—not any longer.
No matter what, though, I still intend to do my damnedest to get us both out of here alive.
Even if "damned" turned out to be the perfect word.
The demon can pile on the agony. I will still fight to save my partner.
To save this woman he had begun to admire beyond any other he had ever met.
"Ruby," he said, then repeated her name louder. The demon’s laughter echoed from every person around him as he began shouting for Ruby to look at him.
When she didn’t respond, he slumped back in his chair in momentary defeat.
No. I will not give up.
"Flint," he said in sudden inspiration, sitting as straight up as the forces holding him down would allow. "Flint," he called out. "I need your help to reach Ruby. Do you hear me? Ruby ... no, Rowan needs your help."
The air next to Ruby shimmered, and there Flint stood, as if he had been beside her all along, merely waiting for Trip’s call.
With one hand, the phantom figure, surrounded by a slight glow of blue-white light, reached out and brushed the blond hair away from Ruby’s temples. "Rowan, love," Flint said, his voice quiet, but perfectly audible to Trip nonetheless. "Come back to me, sweetheart." He glanced at Trip. "Call her."
If Flint thought Trip’s pleas could help induce Ruby to return, he was sadly mistaken. Still, Trip was willing to try anything.
"Ruby," he repeated. "We need you to come back to us. Break the connection."
Once again, Flint spoke words that Trip did not hear. But Ruby’s head dropped forward, down onto her chest, and Trip redoubled his calls to her.
Suddenly, the room grew quiet, and Trip realized that the women around the table had also slumped forward, and the otherworldly wind had stopped.
As Trip stood up, Flint’s indistinct form shimmered and faded away. Trip was left with only the afterimage of the other man staring at him fixedly.
"I will take care of her," Trip said aloud, even as he disentangled himself from the women’s now-loose grips and moved around the table to kneel beside Ruby.
Her eyelids fluttered twice before she managed to open her eyes completely. Trip stood up long enough to pluck the glass of water from the center of the table and press it into her hands. "Drink this. I’ll find something stronger later."
Ruby nodded and took a sip, then cleared her throat. "How is everyone?" she asked, glancing around the room.
I don’t care, Trip wanted to say, but he bit down on the words, certain that Ruby wouldn’t welcome the sentiment. Anyway, the other women were beginning to stir, and seemed none the worse for wear. "They’re OK," he said.
"I hate that term," she said, her voice cracking a little.
Trip laughed softly. "I will try to remember that." He paused. "What do you recall from the séance?"
Ruby put one hand to her forehead. "Everything." She rubbed her palm down over her eyes, then sat up straight, her voice taking on a determined tone. "And I know what we have to do now."
Chapter Ten
Despite a bone-aching weariness, Ruby forced herself to stand. The young women around the table were blinking and beginning to speak to one another, discussing the ghost they had all seen in their midst.
None of them remembered anything after Flint’s manifestation in the room.
Good.
> Ruby, on the other hand, had a visceral memory of the demon’s possession of her. If she stopped to think of it, she might vomit.
It was better to move, to begin taking the steps that she hoped might lead to the hell-beast’s destruction.
Possibly her own annihilation, as well.
Glancing at Trip, she realized that joining Flint in death didn't seem as appealing as it had only a few hours before.
No. Don’t consider that, either. Move forward. Do what must be done. Don’t think.
"Follow me," she said quietly to Trip, picking up a candle and leading him out of the room. They slipped out of the boardinghouse before anyone could notice to stop them, Ruby stooping to grab her carpet bag from where she had dropped it in the entryway.
"What do you know?" Trip asked, easily matching her stride.
"Wait," she said, frowning and looking around. Then she shrugged. "Never mind. I don’t know where it might be safe to discuss." She ducked behind the corner of a nearby house.
"What I know is that this is definitely the demon. Flint confirmed that much." She opened her carpet bag and began getting ready for the battle she knew was coming. She'd had months to reconsider her actions in the church in New Mexico. This time, she had everything she needed. She was prepared.
Trip blinked when he saw her unfastening her skirt. Ruby knew it was ungentlemanly of him to stare, but she found she didn’t care. In fact, she held his gaze with her own as she allowed her skirt and crinoline to puddle to the ground, revealing the Levi’s she wore beneath.
Trip’s eyes glinted in appreciation. "I thought the gun belt an excellent fashion choice," he said. "It has nothing on this."
"It’s practical," Ruby said.
"And lovely."
With a slight smile, she rolled the skirt and placed it in the carpet bag, pulling out her black vest to wear over her shirt. The weapons inside the garment, mostly knives, clinked as she shrugged into it.
