by J. Stone
Again, the vespari waited for the essence. He waited for the sensation to flow into him. With a vishler kill, a vespari could expect one of the more peculiar effects that the monsters passed on. As the vishler was nothing more than a single bloody organ, using bones, vines, and weeds to assemble a body, it had the ability to finely control its makeshift limbs. For the vespari that killed it, this translated into a better understanding of their own bodies. It didn’t make them stronger, faster, or smarter. The energy just allowed the vespari to better understand their own body.
There was nothing though. Just as with the harpy, Lockhart felt nothing. It had to be the Caustic Brand, he decided. It had to be interfering with his ability to gather his kills’ essences and grow stronger.
Ignoring all that for the moment, he stepped past the other bones to find the lizard skull and what remained of the vishler’s heart. He found the heart under a pile of ribs, but there was nothing left of the lizard skull but shattered fragments. That was fine. He didn’t need it.
Lockhart did need the heart though, runed bullet still lodged within. The black blood continued to ooze out for some time, and not wishing to dirty his hands any more than necessary, he scooped it into the mason jar that he’d stored Mr. Brown’s intestines inside. He stared at it for a moment. This vishler had been special. Maybe it would go into the notebook after all. He’d never encountered one that faked its death like that before.
He’d detail it later when there was more light. In the morning, after he’d returned to Abilene and acquired his payment. He would use the heart as evidence for the kill. In case that wasn’t enough, he also grabbed the longhorn skull and dragged it back to his extinguished campfire. Dropping both items there, Lockhart collapsed to the ground, exhausted and needing sleep. Despite the danger he’d just been in, the vespari drifted off.
***
The early morning light brought Lockhart an ache in his back, but it was nothing new for him after years of sleeping under the stars. The rumbling in his gut concerned him more, but he didn’t have anything to eat. The stew and the rock candy from the previous day didn’t last like he would’ve liked. He attempted to satisfy himself with a big drink of water from his canteen. It would have to do for the time being. He’d have to wait until he made it back to town before he got another proper meal. That’d be fine, as he knew he’d be heading that way momentarily. He performed a few morning rituals, got his things together, and set off as soon as he could.
The trek back to town didn’t take long, and he’d arrived there before the sun reached its highest point. Eager to get onto tracking the beldam coven, he headed straight for where he expected the mayor to be to get his due payment. On his last visit to Abilene, he’d spotted a town hall. Expecting her to be there, Lockhart carried the skull and mason jar through town in that direction. He got a fair number of strange looks from the few people walking through, but Abilene was not a heavily populated place, so there weren’t many to contend with.
Even still, the vespari ignored them and continued to the town hall. Stepping inside, he found a young clerk behind a desk. The man had a pair of small, circular frames drooping down on his nose, and he sifted through papers before him, ignoring Lockhart’s entrance altogether. Lockhart walked up to the clerk and plopped the longhorn skull and mason jar with the vishler heart on the desk.
The clerk jumped and looked up at Lockhart. Then his eyes drifted down to the remains of the monster. Lockhart removed the vespari emblem from his belt and flashed it at the man.
“You?” he asked, his eyes finally drifting up to Lockhart’s. “The vespari?”
Lockhart nodded and then looked behind the young man.
“The mayor isn’t here,” the clerk said.
“W-w-where?” Lockhart asked.
“Saloon probably.” He pointed in its direction. “Gambling more than likely.”
“You g-gonna pay me?”
The clerk shook his head. “I’m afraid Mayor Knox will have to attend to that.”
Lockhart sighed and picked up the longhorn skull and heart. The clerk slunk down in his chair but didn’t say anything else. Needing to get paid, the vespari turned and left the town hall. His next stop had to be the saloon then.
Trudging through the town once again, Lockhart made his way to the saloon and passed through its swinging doors. Despite being a place for drink and gambling, the saloon was a dark and somber locale. No one played cards. No one really conversed. They all just tended their drinks, affected by the deaths if he were to guess. Maybe with the creature’s destruction, they could return to some semblance of normalcy. The wastes were a harsh place though, so these kinds of attacks were simply a way of life for them. It made people hard. Reserved.
Regardless, Lockhart needed to get paid and be on his way. Spotting Mayor Knox at the bar, the vespari approached her and sat on the wooden stool beside her. He gently placed the items up on the counter beside her mug of beer. Knox looked over at them and then to him.
“That’s it?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Such a little thing…” she said, eyeing the mason jar and trailing off. “Well. Good. I guess it’s over.”
“P-p-payment,” he told her.
Knox nodded. “Right.” She began fishing through her breast pocket with two fingers. “You’ve earned it.”
Before she’d retrieved the silver rounds, the bartender approached them.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
Mayor Knox answered for him, having finished grabbing his payment. “Get him a beer, Ralph. On me.” She looked at him. “And you’ve got to be hungry.” Back to the bartender. “You still got any of that smoked pork?”
Ralph nodded.
“Bring him some of that too.”
Lockhart didn’t argue. He could use a good meal, and a drink wouldn’t bother him either.
“Sure thing,” the bartender said, grabbing a mug and filling to the brim.
He sat the beer on the counter in front of Lockhart and disappeared to a back room. Knox placed the four silver rounds on the counter and slid them to him. The vespari picked the coins up and dropped them into his coin pouch. The mayor then grabbed the promised slivers from her pants pocket and handed them to him as well. He tossed those in a separate pocket of his duster to deal with later. Finished with his payment, he grabbed the mug and held it over to Knox.
“Ch-ch-cheers,” he told her.
The mayor clinked her glass against his, and they both took a heavy swig.
“Ralph’s got a smokehouse out back,” Knox told him. “Pretty adept with it too. Nearly freezes the meat. Salts it. Sugar too sometimes. Didn’t have any for this batch though. Says he uses corncobs to fuel the fire. Can’t say I know why. Process takes a while, but it’s worth it.”
As she finished the explanation, the bartender came back with a plate of the smoked pork. He’d even included a cob of corn to go with it. Lockhart nodded in thanks, as the man sat it down, and he quickly dug into his food. Knox allowed him a few minutes to work on it before saying anything else.
“Was it a hard kill?”
Lockhart shook his head. “I g-g-g-got by.”
“Good. Good. I guess you’ll be moving on now?”
He nodded, taking another bite followed by a big swig. “Need s-some s-s-supplies first.”
“Mm. You’ll want to talk to Brigette then. She runs the general store. If anyone has what you need, it’ll be her.”
Lockhart nodded and set to finishing his meal and drink. Knox spent most of that time examining the skull and heart he’d brought her. When he’d cleaned his plate and emptied his mug, the vespari pushed his stool back and stood up.
Knox swiveled around on her stool without getting up and smiled at him. “Sorry for the somber mood ‘round here. Guess two funerals in as many days takes its toll. We do appreciate what you’ve done for us though, Mr. Lockhart.”
He nodded and told her, “G-goodbye, Ms. Knox.”
Tur
ning, Lockhart left the saloon and stepped out into the street. He looked in either direction for the general store that the mayor had mentioned, and when he located it in the distance, headed in its direction. He could refill his canteen at the well before he left, so water didn’t concern him, but food was a scarcer resource for him. His bag and most of his provisions had been lost some weeks back. It was a long shot that he’d find any ammunition, but after he’d wasted three bullets on the vishler, he could certainly use more.
There was one final item on his shopping list. He needed a batch of mad lotus. It was a type of flower that had a vine that when chewed or consumed caused hallucinations. Some could channel these hallucinations into prophetic visions. Given the beldam covens’ use of magic to escape him, he didn’t have many ways to track them. The mad lotus would give him some insight. The rest of the Vespari Brotherhood didn’t look so kindly on the herb, but he didn’t always see eye to eye with them. Most of them were back along the coastal cities anyway. Not too many braved the deserts like him. He was mostly on his own out there, and he did things his own way.
Lockhart stepped onto the wooden planks of the general stores walkway, gripped the handle of the door, and pushed it open. Inside, he saw another patron at the counter telling the woman what items he needed. As he did, the woman, presumably Brigette as Knox had indicated, grabbed them from the shelves and placed them on the counter for him. The woman noted him enter, but she continued to assist her other customer.
Entering and taking a few steps, Lockhart began to roam the aisles of her shop. Most of her wares looked mundane enough. Food and other provisions mostly. Bullets seemed ever more unlikely. Mad lotus even more so. Still, he had to check. Maybe she’d surprise him. After a few minutes, the other customer paid, collected their things and left, leaving Lockhart as the only patron in her store. Brigette wiped her hands on the white apron covering her dress and walked out from behind the bar to find him still perusing the shelves.
“Can I help you with something, mister?” she asked.
“Could use a b-b-bag stocked w-w-w-with traveling food,” he told her.
Brigette placed her hands on her hips. “You the vespari that Mayor Knox hired?”
Lockhart nodded.
“Is it done then? Mr. Brown’s killer dead?”
“Y-y-yes, ma’am.”
“Good riddance,” she said. Brigette turned around and returned to her counter. “So food, huh? How much you looking to spend?”
He held up five fingers.
“Five rounds, huh? Alright, then.” Leaning down, she picked up a satchel and started placing a few sundries inside. “I’ll see you’re stocked for traveling then. Give you a discount too. Anything special you’re looking for?”
“Any b-b-bullets?”
She shrugged and winced at the same time, continuing to drop boxes and cans into the satchel. “Got some. I s’pose, but it’s rare we get any new bullets this far out. What caliber you need?”
“F-f-forty f-f-five,” he replied.
Brigette nodded and stopped packing. ”I’ll check the back room.”
While the woman was gone, Lockhart sifted through what she’d packed him. The supplies were enough to last him a few weeks if he stretched them out. Given his need to travel, they would do. Brigette soon returned, and she held something in her right hand.
“I have a grand total of one,” she told him.
“I’ll t-t-take it,” Lockhart replied.
Brigette placed the cartridge on the counter and asked, “You need anything else?”
“Mad lotus,” he said, eyes unblinking.
The woman stared at him for a moment, studying him. “Isn’t that stuff illegal?”
“O-o-only along the coast,” he replied.
Brigette continued to stare a bit longer before replying. “Well. I guess you’re not exactly a law man, but it’s gonna cost you, vespari or not.”
She pulled a keyring from her pocket and leaned down below the counter. Lockhart heard her slide the key into a lock and pop it open. A door swung open, and after a moment, Brigette returned with an open humidor with different types of mad lotus stored inside.
“Do you want to chew it or smoke?” she asked.
“Ch-ch-chew,” he replied.
She sifted through a few types with her finger. “And how powerful should it be?”
“I need the v-v-v-visions.”
“Mm, very well,” Brigette said, picking up one of the branches of mad lotus. “How much are you willing to spend?”
Lockhart held up two fingers.
“Alright,” she replied with a nod. “Seven total then. I’ll throw in the bullet for free. Not going to do me much good anyway.”
Retrieving a pair of clippers from the humidor, Brigette cut the mad lotus down to a size appropriate for his payment and then placed it in a small brown paper bag. She then slipped it and the bullet in with the rest of his things.
Brigette looked up at him with a pleasant smile. “Will that be all?”
He nodded, retrieved the silver rounds, and handed them to her.
“You have a good day then,” she told him.
Lockhart nodded again and picked up the satchel, slinging it over his shoulder. The vespari then turned and left the shop. He had one more stop to make before he left Abilene. He pulled the canteen from his duster pocket, unscrewed the lid, and took a heavy swig as he headed for the well. Once he’d refilled the canteen at the well, he was ready to leave.
Despite not knowing which direction to go, he needed to leave town. The mad lotus would help him pick up the beldam coven’s trail, but chewing the stuff could be dangerous, and he’d rather not be around anyone when he did. He needed to find a secluded spot where he could chew it in peace.
Leaving town, Lockhart tended to a few minor things. He reloaded his revolver and counted how many he had left. Six in the chamber, four in his pouch, and one that needed to have the runes carved into it. He’d never been this low before, but he had little choice in the matter. He’d have to make them do. As he walked, he also checked his funds. He’d operated at a loss in Abilene, spending seven and only making four. That put his silver rounds at a grand total of five. Things weren’t going to be easy. They never were though.
After about a half hour of travel, Lockhart found a single, leafless tree in those wastes. It didn’t cast much of a shadow, but it was better than nothing. Better than sitting down to chew his mad lotus in the light of the scorching sun. Arriving there, Lockhart pulled the bag of mad lotus from his new satchel and then dropped the bag beside the tree. Sitting down, he put his back to the tree and pulled out his knife. He proceeded to cut off a portion of the mad lotus and placed the rest back inside the bag and then the satchel as well. Putting away the knife, Lockhart slid the piece into his mouth and started to chew. A few minutes passed, and then his mind drifted far away from that lone tree in the scorching desert.
***
Thunder roared overhead, and a bolt of lightning split the sky in half. Several more strikes followed the cracking lightning, each accompanied by a rumble of thunder. They sounded odd, different from those in a normal storm. They sounded more like gunfire, but his vision moved on from them before he could understand completely.
Next, he saw a wicked little smile. The rest of the face was darkly lit but unpleasant all the same. The skin looked tarnished by time. Faded and pale. Dead. The image backed up to show a silhouette. A gunslinger in black. A narrow, tall hat with a wide brim shadowed his face, but that smile persisted all the same, now accompanied by yellow, glowing eyes.
The words ‘Barrow Ranch’ replaced the image of the gunslinger, emblazoned on a swinging wooden sign. The sign came with another bolt of lightning and roar of thunder. He’d heard of the ranch, not far from Abilene, but Lockhart had never had cause to travel there before.
His mind didn’t linger on the ranch’s sign, his vision next showing him a woman’s figure. Details were scarce, but he intuited that she was
angry. At him? He couldn’t say. Rage and violence seethed off her, but Lockhart had no way of explaining it. Even as tough as he was, the vespari had a hesitancy to engage this vision any further, and he tried to pull away from it, not understanding how it connected to the beldam coven.
Next came a silence and a white blindness. He feared he had ruined the vision by attempting to steer it. This whiteness went on longer than he would’ve liked. He felt trapped and isolated, but he felt eyes on him, all the same. The vision backed away. It wasn’t blindness. It was snow. The beldam coven was somewhere to the north, somewhere cold enough to have snow.
Then came a cackling. One of the beldams. Each of their faces flashed in his mind. All four wicked and hideous faces. They laughed at him. Laughed at his peril. Mocked him.
Lockhart was grateful when they soon vanished, but the Caustic Brand, which they had inked into his flesh, took their place. The image became more specific, showing its place on his chest. Blood trickled from the mark, running over the vespari tattoos. The ink set ablaze at its touch, and he howled in agony. Not just in his mind either. His body writhed from the pain so much so that it woke him from the mad lotus’s vision.
Night had come, and a storm’s rain dripped down on his slumped over body. He was soaked, the tree having offered little protection from the storm brewing overhead. He sat up, trying to hide under the brim of his cowboy hat, as he pondered the visions the mad lotus had given him. Most of it was vague and difficult to trace, but there had been one detail that he could clearly follow - the Barrow Ranch. That would have to be his next stop then.
Looking up, the storm didn’t look to be anywhere near stopping, and he didn’t relish the idea of trying to sleep in that state. Spitting the last remnants of the mad lotus from his mouth, Lockhart stood and collected his bag. North then to the Barrow Ranch. He just wished he knew why.
***
Lockhart traveled on foot for a couple of days. He wished he still had his horse, which he’d lost at the same time as most of his supplies, but he’d manage all the same. When he got closer to the Barrow Ranch, a fresh storm cropped up. There was very little rain. It was mostly thunderous rumbling and lightning crashing down to the ground. The storm wasn’t all he saw though.
