by Sarah Dreher
He raised his arms toward the sky, toward the last of the fading day.
Tonight he would have the Power.
≈ ≈ ≈
The crisp, clear air carried the uproar all the way out to Blue Mary’s. Gunshots, shouts, breaking glass. Stoner hadn’t heard this much noise since the last time the Red Sox won the AL East Championship.
Blue Mary seemed completely unperturbed. She sat in her rocker, stripping leaves of herbs from their stems and crumbling them between her hands, placing them in labeled jars. Every now and then she glanced up to give Stoner an encouraging nod and smile.
Stoner paced the room and tried to walk the edge off her anxiety. She wished there were something she could do. Now. Tonight. All she’d accomplished today was to deliver a horse to May Chang.
There was no way Billy could stay in Tabor. Not with the bounty hunter on her trail and closing in. If she could take the woman home with her.... But she didn’t know if this trip through time was a one-person junket as Blue Mary said, or had space available for a group tour. More important, she didn’t know if she’d even get back herself. It might be a one-way trip, and she’d be doomed to spend the rest of her life in Tabor trying to explain Thinsulate.
Don’t think like that, she told herself roughly before she could sink into depression. This whole thing is like one of those computer games. As soon as you accidentally push the right button, you’ll be out of here.
Billy seemed to have lost her capacity for thought or action. She sat slumped at the table, staring down into a rapidly-cooling mug of coffee and biting her lip. “She’s going to be furious with me,” she said at last.
“Who?”
“Dot. She needs help tonight, and I ran out on her.”
Stoner raked her hand through her hair in exasperation. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“Sure.”
“For God’s sake, Billy! There’s a bounty hunter after you. And you’re worried about your job?”
“When people are counting on you, it’s not right to let them down.”
Stoner went to her and took her face in her hands. “Listen to me. Dot will understand. If I know her, she’s doing just fine. You’re the one...”
“You haven’t seen that place with two dozen drunken cowboys in it.”
“We have to figure out what to do about you,” Stoner said emphatically.
Billy put her head down on the table. “I don’t even want to think about that.”
“You have to think about it.”
“Just leave me alone, Stoner,” Billy said in an exhausted voice.
“I’m sorry.” She rested her hands on Billy’s shoulders.
Billy slipped her hands under Stoner’s, locking their fingers together. “We could go somewhere together,” she mumbled.
Stoner wrapped her in her arms. “I wish we could. But I’m afraid we can’t. It’s...” She glanced at Blue Mary for confirmation.
“You can’t stay,” the woman said firmly but gently. “And Billy can’t go back with you. If she meets herself coming and going...” She shook her head sadly. “Truly an impossible situation. We planned it badly.”
“I never planned this,” Stoner said.
“Yes, you did, dear. We all did. Even Billy.”
“There she goes again,” Billy said.
Stoner laughed without much humor. “She’s hopeless. Just like Aunt Hermione.” She pulled Billy tight against her, drinking in the feel of the woman’s back against her breasts.
“I really love you,” Billy said softly.
Stoner rested her cheek on Billy’s head. “So do I. I feel as if I’ve known you forever.”
“Me, too.”
“You have,” Blue Mary said.
Billy moaned.
“I’ll never understand,” said Blue Mary, “why people insist on making a mystery out of what is actually a very simple thing.”
“It’s simple for you,” Stoner said. “Lots of people think it’s pretty whacko.”
Blue Mary smiled. “That’s because they prefer to agonize.” She finished with her stack of herbs and took another. “I just can’t grasp that.” She looked up thoughtfully. “I suppose, if I ever do, I’ll be satisfied to move on to another Plane.”
“The reason I can’t believe it,” Stoner said, aware that Billy could feel her heart beating against her back, “is that it’s so attractive.”
Blue Mary shook her head. “Bewildering. Totally bewildering.”
Someone in town set off what sounded like a string of Chinese firecrackers.
“They certainly are rowdy tonight,” Stoner said.
Billy ran her cheek along Stoner’s arm. “Last August we had three cattle drives come through in the same week. I’ll bet there wasn’t a pane of glass left in town by the time they left.”
“Why do they put up with it?”
“No sheriff.”
“Maybe they could hire one.”
“Maybe they will,” Blue Mary said.
Billy laughed. “Who’d want to settle down in this place? That’s why I figured I’d be safe. Nobody’d ever come here.”
“Seems to me,” Stoner said, “it’s the height of the tourist season right now. Cowboys, suffragists, and time travelers.”
She wished Billy didn’t feel so good in her arms. It made her confused inside, off center, out of balance. She pulled away and slipped her hands into her pockets.
Her hand touched the strange knife. She pulled it out. “Mary, have you ever seen anything like this?”
Blue Mary took it from her and studied it. She drew in her breath in a little gasp.
“What is it?”
“Satanic symbols.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Look.” The older woman pointed to the crude carvings. “The reversed pentagram. The inverted cross. The signs of the horns...Where did you find this?”
“Out by the Allen's.”
“This isn’t good.”
Billy looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“What we’re dealing with here is bigger than life.”
“Magic?” Stoner asked.
“Perhaps. But Black Magic is unpredictable, more likely to turn on the user. No, what we’re faced with is someone who believes he has the power of Magic. And that can be the most dangerous kind of person.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” Billy said.
Blue Mary got up and went to her bedside box. She searched through the contents and brought out a handful of sparkling, polished stones. “Take these. Both of you.”
Stoner shared the stones with Billy.
“Are these magic?” Billy asked.
“Maybe,” Blue Mary said enigmatically. “It depends on who believes in them.”
A movement at the window caught Stoner’s attention. She looked out. The sky above the horizon glowed pinkish yellow. Pillars of light reached into the night, then fell back. “That’s amazing,” She said. “I’ve never seen Northern Lights like that before.”
Blue Mary followed her glance. “That’s the south window, dear. It can’t be...”
She ran to the window and shoved the curtains wide. “Something’s wrong.” She reached for her coat. “Billy, hitch up the mule. Hurry!”
Billy bolted from the cabin.
“Come on, Stoner,” Blue Mary ordered, handing her her vest and Billy’s jacket and hat and gun belt.
“What is it?”
“Tabor’s burning.”
≈ ≈ ≈
By the time they reached town, Dot’s Gulch was gone. The cowboys, who had sobered up considerably in the melee, were beating at the flames with wet blankets. The towns people had formed a bucket brigade, but the long summer had left the town well low, and they couldn’t pump water fast enough to keep ahead of the blaze.
People were shouting. She could see them shouting, but the roar and crash of falling timber drowned out the sound of voices. A wall collapsed. Sparks flew into the sky like swarms of
fireflies. For an instant she glimpsed the gilt-edged mirror, reflecting the fire back onto itself. Then a swirl of black smoke blew in front of her eyes, and when it cleared the mirror was gone. The balcony collapsed in a cascade of embers.
Stoner jumped from the wagon and threw herself into the mob. She grabbed a passing cowboy. “Dot! Have you seen Dot?”
It seemed to take him a moment to focus. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s out.”
“Lolly and Cherry?”
“I dunno.” He pulled away and ran back to fight the fire.
Stoner followed him, pushing at milling bodies. Ogling bystanders formed a thick wall around the scene. She hurled herself against it, shoving and elbowing until she had forced a crack. Slipping through, she was flung backward for a second by an explosion of heat that singed the hairs on her arms. Near the flames she saw Dot, pacing back and forth, her hair flying. Her face and arms were black with ash. Tears cut rivers through the soot on her cheeks.
Stoner grabbed her. “Dot!”
The woman clutched at her sleeve. “The girls,” she shouted above the flames. “In the back room.”
“Come on!” Stoner seized Dot’s arm and pulled her toward the alley. She snatched a damp blanket from a cowboy. Sparks rose from the crashing walls and settled on Dot’s dress. Stoner brushed at them frantically. She saw Joseph Hayes with a bucket of water, about to waste it in the flames. “Here!” she shouted. “Throw it here!”
He turned, saw the tiny tongues of fire that licked at Dot’s dress, and tossed the water in their direction, soaking them both. The sudden chill cut deep.
The back wall of the kitchen was still standing, but the door and window panes were gone. Stoner peered through the billows of smoke. Someone was in there, moving, turning in circles, disoriented. She couldn’t make out who it was.
“Stay here!” she ordered. Before Dot had a chance to argue, she pulled the water-soaked blanket over her head and hurled herself through the flames.
The sound was deafening. The light blinded her. The water in her wet clothes seemed to boil. She took a breath. Fire seared her nose and mouth and flashed in her lungs.
She had to work fast. Looking around desperately, she caught a glimpse of a human form on the floor. She bent low and ran over to it. It was Cherry, hugging the floor boards, her body flung protectively over Lolly’s.
“Cherry!”
The woman looked up.
“Cherry! Keep your head down. Crawl.”
Cherry shook her head. “I’m not leaving her.”
Stoner hit the ground and inched close to her. She tossed the steaming blanket over them. “You grab one arm, I’ll take the other. Hurry!”
She thought she saw the outside wall begin to move, to bow inward.
“Pull!” She set her feet against the floor and hitched backward, dragging Lolly behind her.
Cherry snatched up the other arm. “What are you doing here?” she panted. “We’re just a couple of whores.”
“Shut up and pull.”
They reached the door just as the wall swayed outward, then in, then outward...
“Dot!” Stoner screamed. “Get out of the way.”
...and began to fall.
She saw Dot start to run toward them.
Stoner tried to wave her off. “Get out of here!”
“You mind your own damn business!” Dot shouted. She reached them, added her strength to theirs.
The wall hung in the air for a moment, wobbled, swayed...
Pulling, crawling, they reached the blackness behind the saddler’s store.
...and fell.
The fire began to die, eating itself from the inside.
Stoner sprawled in the dust for a moment. She gulped cool air. Cherry lay beside her.
Dot knelt by Lolly and lifted her wrist, feeling for a pulse.
“What?” Stoner asked.
The woman didn’t answer. Her fingers went to the artery in Lolly’s neck.
Dot sat back on her heels. “Damn,” she said.
Cherry crawled to her side. “She’s not dead, is she, Dot?”
“I’m afraid so, honey.”
Cherry lifted Lolly’s limp body into her arms. “You’re not dead, kid. Tell me you’re not dead.” She shook her. “Come on, this is me, Cherry. Don’t you go teasing old Cherry at a time like this.”
“I’m sorry, Cherry,” Dot said.
Cherry tightened her grip on Lolly’s body and stroked her face. “Damn white whore,” she whispered, tears furrowing through the ash on her cheeks. “Damn old white whore.” She looked up, her face twisted with loss. “I never told her I loved her.”
“It’s okay,” Dot said.
“I really did love her, Dot. Do you think she knew?”
“Sure, she did, honey. We all knew it.”
Cherry threw back her head and howled, a howl of rage and sorrow and loneliness. It rose above the sounds of burning, above the shouts of the people. It flowed out onto the prairie.
Far in the distance, a wolf answered.
Dot sat back, gasping for breath as tears streamed down her face. “She was a good kid,” she said. “A damn good kid.”
Stoner could feel her own heart breaking, and knew she really cared about these people. They might be from another time, another world, or even a figment of her imagination, but she cared about them.
Dot’s face was badly burned. Cherry was pale beneath her dark skin. Going into shock, Stoner thought. She could do her own grieving later. She pushed herself to her feet. “You need help,” she said.
“Don’t make me leave her,” Cherry said, and clenched her friend’s body in a hard grip. “I don’t want to leave her.”
“You can’t do anything for her...” Stoner began.
Dot cut her off. “She needs a little time. It’ll be all right.”
“Okay. I’ll get the doctor.”
“He won’t come.”
“Of course he will. You need him.”
“Stoner,” Dot said firmly, “we’re whores. He won’t come.”
“Not even for something like this?”
“Not even.”
Stoner looked at Cherry. “Is that true?”
Cherry nodded.
Fury made her head ring. Without waiting for an answer, she trotted back toward the street to find Blue Mary. She’d help. She’d know what to do. Blue Mary knew more than everyone in Tabor put together.
She searched the faces in the crowd, looking for a familiar one. In the firelight they glowed red, cut with black shadows, demonic and anonymous. They stood like statues, like figures in a nightmare, and watched the dying flames. Mary had to be here. Or Billy. Where was Billy?
“Stoner.”
She turned. Blue Mary pushed toward her through the crowd.
Stoner caught her hands. “We need you. Lolly’s dead. Cherry and Dot…”
“Have you seen Billy?”
“No.”
“One minute she was right beside me, and when I turned around she was gone.”
Stoner craned her neck and searched the crowd. “I’ll look for her. Cherry and Dot… Down the alley.”
“If we get separated,” Blue Mary said, “meet me at Kwan’s Laundry. Back door.”
The heat was fading, cold night air rushing in across the prairie. The wind fanned the glowing coals that were all that was left of the Dot’s Gulch. Fire broke out again briefly, then subsided. The darkness deepened.
A hand touched her shoulder. She started.
“Your name Stoner?” a cowboy asked.
Stoner nodded.
“Preacher said to tell you Billy Devon’s with him up at the church. Says he got hurt bad and you’re supposed to come right away.”
She turned away and started running through the darkness toward the church. Lolly dead, Cherry and Dot hurt. And now Billy. She couldn’t bear it.
The air stung her lungs. She shouldn’t run. She’d breathed hot smoke. She ought to take it easy.
She couldn’t.
Not Billy. Dear God, not Billy.
She realized she was crying. Sobbing with fear and exhaustion. It made her chest hurt. Made it hard to run.
The church door stood open, darkness inside.
She hesitated, panting, then called “Billy!”
A rough hand clamped over her mouth. Startled, she tried to turn. Someone slammed her back against the wall. The man pressed his body against hers, pinning her.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “I don’t want to have to shoot you.”
She saw the gun he held up, glowing silver in the light of the rising moon.
What the heck? It wouldn’t hurt to find out what the gentleman wanted.
She nodded.
He took his hand away from her mouth and stepped back a little. The gun was pointed directly at her face.
“Nice gun,” she said.
“You don’t recognize it?”
She didn’t recognize the gun, but she recognized the man.
“It belongs to your friend,” he said.
“Reverend Parnell, this is not behavior one expects from a man of the cloth.” Good God, every time I get in trouble, I start quoting bad movies.
“Shut up,” he said.
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “The things that come out of my mouth at the darnedest times...”
“Snails. Toads. Serpents of Satan.”
“Actually,” she said as he shoved her toward the altar, “I was thinking mediocre dialogue.”
He kicked her ankle and sent her sprawling. “I know who you are,” he said. He grabbed her hair and banged her forehead against the rough wooden floor. The room turned over. She felt sick.
The man was on top of her now, sitting on her back. The gun lay near her head unattended.
She started to reach for it and realized he was holding her wrists. “If this is a rape situation,” she said, “I think you should know I tested HIV positive.”
“Quiet!” he shouted, and yanked her arms toward her shoulders until the joints screamed.
Oh, shit. She felt him tie her hands together with a coarse, heavy rope.
“You won’t tempt me with your wiles,” he hissed into her ear. “I know who you are.”
“I can’t tell you,” she said, “what a comfort that is to me.”
He yanked her to her knees and slung a rope around her neck.
