A scream in the distance cut between them, startling the people still milling around outside the church. Temperance pushed herself away from the tree and stared in the sound’s direction.
“Aw hellfire, what is it now?”
* * *
By the time Temperance and Ruth arrived in front of the Felts house, the screaming had stopped. Based on the hollow look in Salina Felts eyes though, Temperance didn’t have much difficulty guessing where the cries had been coming from. The woman sat beneath a nearby tree, her husband’s arm wrapped around her. Several children stood nearby, looking uncomfortable with the whole situation.
The mayor arrived right on Ruth’s heels. “Is it the daemon? He been spotted ‘round here again?”
Temperance glanced about, but nothing nearby appeared to be smoldering. “If it was, they’re long gone now.”
“It was here.” Edmund Felts patted his wife’s shoulder and rose to his feet. “Left another one of its messages.”
Next to the door, slashed so wide Temperance wasn’t sure how she missed it the first time, red letters stretched across the face of the house.
Patrick Felts, prepare yourself. I come at midnight bearing the mark of judgement, to take from you in flesh what is due for your crimes. Beg forgiveness now, repent your sins, and I might be merciful upon you. Or hold to your pride and await the coming of my servant to drag you to Hell.
“Ain’t particularly original, now is it?” the mayor asked. “Not much different from the one on my house.”
“I don’t think that’s the issue we should consider here, Mayor.” Temperance tried to keep her voice neutral. She reached a hand out and felt the paint. It was still wet in a few places. “This is the same paint as before. Any idea where the daemon is getting it?”
John leaned in and sniffed. “Mines, most likely, I seem to recall the fellows up there used red paint for marking tunnels and such. Not likely anyone here in town has much that color. Who would want to paint a building red?”
Miners again. Something about that didn’t wash, but Temperance couldn’t put her finger on it. Another question to come back to later, then. She turned to Edmund. “Which one of your kids is Patrick?”
“I am,” said a scrawny boy not much taller than Temperance. She noticed that he was pointedly not looking at Ruth, who seemed to be ignoring him as well. Clearly the idea of getting hitched still needed time to settle in. “But I don’t know why no daemon would want me. I ain’t done nothing worth talking over my whole damn life!”
“Watch your mouth, boy, there are ladies present!” Edmund smacked him on the back of the head, then looked at Temperance. “Beg pardon, Miss Alba, but this here is a mystery to me and my wife as well. Ain’t you got any ideas, being the expert in this here sort of thing?”
“I’ve got a few, yes.” First the son of the mayor, now the town physiker. If someone wanted to bring this little community to its knees, that was certainly the way to do it.
“This is all her fault!” Somehow Salina had gotten to her feet without Temperance noticing. At first she thought the woman was talking about her, but the next moment she rounded on Ruth, charging forward until their noses practically touched. “First David, then Johnnie, and now my boy! You’re doing this somehow, ain’t you? I knew I should’a thrown your father out the moment he showed up begging on our doorstep. Makes sense a daemon would come calling to a no-good harlot like yourself!”
“Now Salina, you and I both know that nothing happened to David.” John placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, and tried steering her back towards the tree. “Don’t be letting Olivia put ideas in your head. Why, we’ll get this sorted out, that I’m certain. Miss Alba here—”
Temperance tuned the mayor out and turned to Ruth. The girl had gone stone-faced, shrunken in on herself. She started when Temperance tapped her arm.
“C’mon, let’s get you home now.” No reason she had to stand here and take that kind of abuse. Not like there wasn’t enough of that going on at home already.
“What? No, I don’t want to go back there, not yet. No work to do in the fields anyway, on account of the holy day.” Ruth brightened, the light flooding back into her eyes. “Let me show you someplace. It’s not too far from here.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” Temperance glanced over her shoulder to where the mayor was still talking in his most soothing voice to the Felts. Patrick stood off to one side, looking glum. “I expect they’ll want me around here, getting ready for the daemon’s next attack.”
“Yeah, but that’s not for hours, the message says so. Can’t you spare time for me?”
Ruth watched her with wide eyes and pouting lips. At last Temperance sighed. “So what did you want to show me?”
* * *
“I used to come here all the time with Flora. We called it ‘Castle Hill’.” Ruth spread her arms wide and spun through the remaining wildflowers that clung to the hilltop. She slowed down and flopped onto the grass. “Later, when my sister got too old to spend time with me, this was where I went when I wanted to be alone.”
“It’s a pretty place,” Temperance admitted. There were several piles of broken stones that one might almost mistake for part of a castle wall if you squinted enough. Looking the other way, the hill stretched downward, Shady Hollow just a cluster of buildings hidden among the trees at the bottom.
They lay on the grass in companionable silence. Perhaps in another life Temperance might have been able to have friends, to live the carefree life of a country girl. Spent days sitting on hilltops worrying over ordinary things. It was a nice thought, but not a particularly believable one. Even if Cold Valley hadn’t fallen, she doubted her grandfather would ever have allowed her to live such a mundane existence.
She had almost drifted off to sleep when Ruth’s voice snapped her back awake.
“I keep having this dream. In it, I turn into a bird, and I fly higher and higher, until all of Shady Hollow is just a speck beneath me. And in the dream I see how insignificant this whole place is, how tiny compared to the rest of the world. I fly away, to somewhere better and more important, and I never look back.” The girl sighed. “How can anyone want to stay in this town, when there are so many places to see in the world? What sort of adventures could I have if I ain’t here?”
“Adventures aren’t all the stories make them out to be,” Temperance said. “Mostly it’s just a lot of sleeping on hard ground, out in the cold. There’s something to be said for living where you don’t have to worry about the rain, or where your next meal is coming from.”
“That’s just traveling. I’m talking ‘bout adventure. There’s got to be more excitement where people are. Somewhere like Messanai City, bet my family would never think to look for me there.”
Temperance grunted but didn’t offer her opinion on the subject. The girl would be better making for the capital; it was closer, for one. They didn’t snap people into chains in Arkton for begging in the streets, for another.
Ruth continued on. “I been thinking on what you said the other night, ‘bout how hard it is for a woman on her own. All I need is someone to help see me settled out there. Do you think you might—”
“Settled, how, exactly? You got a stash of kos you’re hiding somewhere? You even know how money works in the outside world?” The girl shook her head, and Temperance sighed. “Even if you found work right away, where would you live? Not a lot of choices for women out there. Washing laundry isn’t the highest paying job. It could be weeks before you have enough to afford even the most basic roof over your head.”
She left unsaid the more likely alternative; that Ruth would fall prey to the city’s seedy underbelly waiting with eager claws to snap up ignorant girls like her. Better to spare that fate now, even if it took a few harsh words.
Ruth nodded, as if this was the answer she had expected. Clearly she wouldn’t be dissuaded so easily. “I’ll manage, somehow. I thought I had more time, with David missing, but Papa is moving s
o fast. If I don’t get out of here soon, I never will.”
She rolled over and looked at Temperance. “Papa is always so angry, always going on ‘bout what an embarrassment I am. All I used to do was think of getting out of that house, but not if it means I have to spend the rest of my days barefoot and pregnant.”
“Patrick seemed decent enough.” Temperance wasn’t sure what else to say. The girl was right, it didn’t sound like much a life here, but what other alternatives did she have? Without money, or training, there were only a few places women ended up this world, and none of them were pretty.
Training. That gave Temperance an idea.
“So, there’s a man out by the coast,” she began, uncertain if this was a good idea but wanting to help. “His name is Martin Blackfire. He’s the one that trained me, got me on my feet after a run of bad luck. I could take you to him. No promises, but he might be willing to teach you.”
“Teach me magick, you mean? Like what you did the other night?” Ruth’s eyes were almost aglow.
“Not exactly. Martin doesn’t practice sorcery, he’s just a Pistol Warlock. You ever fired a gun before?”
Ruth looked uncertain. “A few times. My dad used to let my sister and me practice with his rifle. Is firing a hexbullet much different?”
“They share a few similarities. Here, why don’t I show you?”
“You mean it?” The girl jumped to her feet. “I can fire and everything?”
“I suppose . . . .” That hadn’t been exactly what Temperance intended, but surely there couldn’t be harm in letting the girl experience it once. Give her a taste for it.
Seems like not too long ago I berated a certain marshal for wasting hexbullets, and here I am doing the same thing now. Life is funny sometimes.
She patted her pockets and came back with a handful of shot from one of her harder to reach pouches. She had almost forgotten she had these. They didn’t have much purpose, and she often wondered why her grandfather had bothered crafting them. Probably for situations just like this.
“Here.” She dropped one of the hexbullets into Ruth’s hand and stowed the others away.
“How does it work?”
“Hexbullets are essentially already completed spells. They have their reagents inside the shell, and the runes are carved along the outside. All you have to do is just say the power word, Avesa.”
Temperance held out a gun, but the girl squeaked and dropped the bullet into the grass. She stared at it, face pale. “Is it broken?”
“Possible, but not likely.” Temperance retrieved the hexbullet and showed it to Ruth, turning it so she could see the bottom. Several lines ended where the primer would be on a regular casing. “Each hexbullet is missing a key rune required to make it work. Until it’s added right here, the spell isn’t complete.”
She turned her gun and showed Ruth the hammer. “See that symbol carved into here? That’s the missing rune. When you pull the trigger, it presses to the bullet and completes the spell.”
Once she had the revolver loaded, Temperance stood behind the girl and directed her to aim towards the top of the hill. “Shoot the ground, but not too close to us now. I’d rather not have any broken bones.”
The girl nodded, then squinted as she squeezed the trigger. “Avesa!”
Rust colored streaks trailed in the bullet’s wake. It struck between two piles of broken stone and disappeared into the earth. A moment later the hill rumbled, and the ground rose until a circular mound stood in the middle of the piles. A few clumps of torn grass teetered on top.
Ruth turned to Temperance. “That’s amazing! Could I really learn to do that?”
“It’s certainly possible. Are you sure you want to leave everything you know here, though? It won’t be easy, out there on your own.”
“Easier than staying. I can’t live in Shady Hollow, I’m not like the rest of ‘em.”
“Alright. Once the daemon is dealt with, I’ll take you to meet Martin.” Getting her out with no one noticing might be tricky, but they would manage somehow.
“Hurray!” Before she realized what was happening, Ruth had wrapped her up in a tight embrace, head nuzzling her shoulder. Temperance patted the other girl’s back awkwardly, not entirely knowing what do in this sort of situation. Ruth just squeezed her tighter, until Temperance thought her bones might crack.
Poor girl really is glad to be leaving here, isn’t she?
The embrace went on, Temperance unsure exactly how to break free. A sudden chill breeze blew across the hill, and Ruth shivered. Temperance glanced up at the sky. “We should head back. I’ve got to prepare for tonight, and I don’t like those clouds one bit. Looks like we got a Blue Westerner blowing in fast.”
Ruth released her hold and jumped back, face gone red for some reason. They made their way down the slope, dry flowers falling to pieces in their wake. The sun descended on the hill, where the new mound bulged stark and lonely against the darkening horizon.
Chapter Sixteen
The rain started long before midnight arrived. It came first in little drops, then in bigger ones, and finally in icy rivulets that worked their way through every opening and crack they could find, chilling Temperance to the bone.
Night like this, I think I’d almost prefer if it were snowing.
The Felts were safe and dry in their home, the protection circle surrounding it barely visible through the rain. Somewhere nearby Astor waited, hidden in a thicket. Should the worst happen and the daemon give Temperance the slip, there would be no losing its trail, at least.
Minutes turned into hours, and Temperance found herself going mad with the waiting. Despite her grandfather’s attempts to cultivate the skill, she had never taken to it. Too easy to get lost in her own thoughts. Now here she was, holed up for the second time in a week.
What would her grandfather have made of her, laying out here waiting for some daemonic wolf to put in an appearance? She had come a long ways since that first time he dragged her out of bed when she was six. The memory of it was still fresh, and only a little tarnished by the passage of time.
They had walked to the edge of the valley, where a plateau opened and spread out to the east. Hillocks of dry grass waved in the dark, giving the impression of being in a boat set upon a blackglass sea. Together they lay in a little hollow, rifle placed between them.
As the hours ticked by, Temperance found herself watching the man next to her more than the plateau. Occasionally he would glance back over and give her a thin-lipped smile, before returning to the swaying grass.
Until that night, she had always been a little scared of her grandfather, of his stern glare and loud voice, of how he growled and berated the slightest mistake. Despite living in the same town, they had seen little of each other. The training of other Pistol Warlocks took much of his time, and the few occasions he visited had been terse and distant. Then without warning her parents brought her to his training house. She had spent the first few days there cowering every time he looked in her direction, terrified of stirring up his wrath.
Now she felt that fear melting away the longer they lay huddled together. Maybe it was the smiles, or being nestled so close for the long hours, or perhaps the dark night had given her something she feared even more. For the first time in her life, the adult next to her did not seem so much a stranger, a legend come to life. He looked like her father, the man who snuggled her into bed each night and told her stories of great adventures across the wide sea.
Before her nerve broke again, she asked the question that had been bothering her for weeks now.
“Grandpa?”
“Shh, whisper, Tempie. What is it?”
“Why you teaching me this stuff? You going to make me a Pistol Warlock like you?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Temperance frowned into the night. She thought she saw something move, but it might have been the wind.
“Did you teach my daddy when he was my age?”
Her grandf
ather was silent. She looked at him, but he seemed somewhere far away. “No, I . . . no. By the time I settled down he was older than you are now, and Kestobel—your grandmother—wouldn’t let me teach him. Didn’t want the boy following in his father’s footsteps. I always regretted that. When you were born I promised I wouldn’t make the same mistake. It’s a hard world we live in, and you need to be even harder to survive it.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but another flash of movement passed the edges of Temperance’s vision. They turned and watched several small shapes emerge from the dark. Behind them, the sun’s first dull light coalesced on the horizon, giving everything a washed out appearance.
“Bunnies?” Temperance said, louder than she meant to. “We’re out here to kill bunnies?”
“Indeed.” Her grandfather slid the rifle into her hands. “I know this will be difficult for you, Tempie, but you need to be strong. Sometimes that means doing hard things. Just think of—”
His mouth snapped shut as the rifle echoed out through the chill air. The rabbits fled, leaving one of their numbers twitching in its death throes, a bloody hole piercing its neck. Temperance turned, and saw her grandfather looking at her, eyebrows raised appraisingly.
“It’s just a bunny.” She handed the rifle back.
“This time, perhaps. It appears I misjudged the lessons I need to teach you.”
Her grandfather got up and dusted himself off. He collected the rabbit and looked it over. “Well, that’s enough for today. Shall we make breakfast?”
“Sure grandpa, as long as I don’t have to eat that.” Temperance grimaced at the thought. “They taste so yucky.”
“Is that so? Let’s get you home, then. I imagine Juniper is making flapjacks about now.”
“Yay!” Temperance leapt to her feet and chased after her grandfather. They walked back towards Cold Valley in comfortable silence. For a moment she considered slipping her tiny hand inside his, but stopped herself at the last moment. They weren’t that close. One day, perhaps, but not now.
Curse of the Daemon Beast Page 12
