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A Famine of Crows

Page 12

by A. A. Chamberlynn


  A few minutes later, they slowed as they approached the town. They stopped and eyed it from a distance, just to be sure it looked safe. Willow still had her new Colt, but she didn’t want to waltz in there without checking things out first. It appeared to be a perfectly normal mining town. Log buildings. Horse and oxen-drawn carts rolling steadily in and out. Smoke rising from chimneys here and there. Tired men sitting around. Even from this distance she could read the weariness in their bodies. Behind the town, the hills rose more steeply, and Willow could see mountain peaks in the distance.

  “It seems pretty safe,” Penelope said, mirroring her own thoughts.

  Willow nodded. “Yeah. Let’s—”

  Hoofbeats rose up behind them, and Willow whirled in her saddle. A lone rider on a black horse came tearing over the hills. Willow felt a spike of fear in her chest. What on earth could warrant such breakneck speed?

  The rider flew past them, and Willow urged Bullet to take chase. She wasn’t about to get eaten or attacked by whatever was behind them. Penelope moved Domino alongside them and they high-tailed it into town on the heels of the hell-speed rider.

  But when they reached the closest building, the rider leaped off their horse, slung a canvas bag at a man standing on the walkway out front, then grabbed a new bag from a second man, climbed on a second horse, and sped off, heading east this time. Willow watched the scene in bewilderment. Then she noticed the sign hanging on the building that said The Pony Express.

  She pulled Bullet to a halt. “Wait a second. The Pony Express stopped running decades ago. I’ve only ever heard tales.”

  “Yeah.” Penelope smiled. “You and I used to pretend we were Express riders when we were little. Remember?”

  “Of course. It was all I thought about for about a year. How I’d grow up and find a job just like it.” That was, until she’d started dreaming of leaving Hawk’s Hollow and finding her outlaw father.

  “Then what’s happening here?” Penelope asked, gazing up at the building and down the street. “Maybe some effect of the Forest of Time?”

  Willow saw a signpost sticking out of the dirt to the right of the street proclaiming the town to be Milton, Montana. Population 523. It seemed a perfectly ordinary place, other than the fact that she didn’t see but one other woman aside from her and Penelope. She had a feeling the Colt was going to come in handy, and took a moment to check that the cylinder was full.

  “I know one thing for sure,” Willow said to Penelope after she spun the cylinder and snapped it back in place. “I’m going to die from hunger if we don’t eat soon. Let’s figure everything else out later.”

  Penelope nodded.

  They opted for a boarding house, as it seemed far less boisterous than the inn and saloon two doors down. Willow figured they’d need a place to stay the night anyhow, as it would be getting dark in a few hours. They checked in with a woman at the front desk who stared at them like they were ghosts.

  “I’ll take the horses out back,” Willow said as the woman offered to show Penelope their room.

  She went out front to collect Bullet and Domino, then around the side of the building where the woman at the front desk had pointed. Behind the boarding house was a small attached stable with several horse stalls. She put Bullet in one and Domino in the other, took off their bridles, then gave them each a flake of hay and made sure they had water. After that she ducked into Bullet’s stall to check her feet for rocks.

  A creak of wood outside alerted her to company. Willow stepped out from behind Bullet, and her heart came to a stop. It was Zane.

  She had the Colt in her hand in a moment, aimed between his eyes.

  “I’m not going to harm you,” he said slowly, calmly, his storm-blue eyes meeting hers.

  “Then why are you here?”

  Emotion washed over his face. Something she might have thought was sadness if she didn’t know better. “I just want to talk.”

  “Really?” She let out a short bark of laughter. “Is that why you keep leading those assassins right to us?”

  “I’m not working with them.” He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

  Willow arched a brow. “So, you just happened to be with them when they came for us by the saloon?”

  “I was trying to warn you.”

  She felt a spike of surprise, ice-cold as it moved through her veins. “Warn me? With the Others right on your heels?”

  He shook his head, jaw clenched. “I didn’t realize how close they were.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She took every ounce of her rage and poured it into the glare she cast him. “I mean, do you hear yourself? You told me before—you’re doing your job for Heaven. A good little soldier. Why stop now?”

  He stepped up to the stall door, which came up to his waist, so that only a foot separated them. She could feel the heat running between them, even with a barrier in between. The Colt was still trained on his forehead.

  “This whole area has a magic dampener,” Zane said. “I stand before you as a man. Not an angel, not a servant of Heaven. You could shoot me dead right here, right now.”

  “That makes you either crazy or stupid,” she growled, tightened her grip on the pistol.

  “Probably both,” he said, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “I tell you that so you can trust what I say. What I risked to come here.”

  “I will never trust you, Zane.” She ground the words out between her teeth. “You fooled me once. Bravo. You’re the first one to do so, and I don’t make the same mistake twice. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing at here, but you can go right to Hell.”

  “That’s fair,” he said, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just hear me out. The new Riders—the Others as you call them—they’ll never stop hunting you. Go back to the realm of the Fallen. You’ll be safe there.”

  “Oh, so we’ll be out of the way for the Apocalypse to continue? I don’t think so.”

  “You shouldn’t have been dragged into this,” he said. “Don’t be a martyr. You don’t have to save the world.”

  “Well, someone has to, don’t you think?” She smiled, and cocked the hammer on the Colt. “I suggest you get back to Heaven to report on your failed mission.”

  Zane’s eyes burned into hers. “If you were going to shoot me, you would have done it already.”

  And he turned and left her in the stable alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Felicity

  Something was wrong. Felicity could feel it.

  She’d never been prone to headaches, and yet she’d had a constant one for days now. Headaches so bad she barely had any sense of her surroundings or what was happening. At times, the pain would clear briefly, and Dynah would be giving her a strange look. Even Zachariah had given her a look earlier, and he was as affectless as they came.

  It scared her, but every time she’d begin to truly panic, a soothing voice inside her head would tell her not to worry. That everything was under control. That she could sit back and relax for once in her life. She didn’t know when she’d developed this inner wisdom, but she melted into it. It was nice to let go. Just this once.

  And so, when she found herself in Egypt, in an outrageous get-up no less, it came as quite the shock.

  “How did we—” she cut off, biting her lip nervously.

  They walked down twilight streets lit by torches. Sandstone buildings rose around them. People shuffled by wearing tattered clothing and leather sandals. It smelled absolutely atrocious. Manure and stale urine and something fermenting that she didn’t think was supposed to be fermenting at all.

  Dynah flicked her gaze over to Felicity, who had stopped walking. “We’re getting supplies for the spell. Your idea?”

  Felicity felt the warm, silky voice inside tell her that all was well. She blinked rapidly several times. “Of course I remember. The spell. Nothing is more important.”

  She saw Dynah shift her eyes to Zachariah. It seemed something was going on
between them. Of course Dynah was latching onto the nearest male companion. She didn’t have feelings that way for women. For her. Anger lashed up inside, making her chest feel hot.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Felicity said. “The sooner we perform the spell, the better.”

  “Zachariah, do you know where we can find the crystals and the herbs?” Dynah asked.

  Felicity suppressed a roll of her eyes.

  “I haven’t spent much time in this time loop,” Zachariah said. “I suggest we find one of the markets. And keep your head down.”

  He added a scowl on this last sentence, and Dynah blushed and ducked her head down.

  Felicity watched the people on the streets, paying attention to the flow of the traffic, both foot and cart. After a few minutes of walking, she could detect steady movement to the west. She followed it. The city didn’t seem to slow down as darkness fell. On the contrary, it seemed several taverns were opening their doors for the evening crowd. There also seemed to be a good number of private transactions occurring in alleyways. Things best bought and sold by cover of night.

  She noticed that people scurried to the opposite side of the street where she passed, their gazes averted. It was true that her red dress did little to help her blend in, as Dynah and Zachariah were doing. She wondered why Zachariah had chosen such a bold glamour. Her mind had been fuzzy from the headache when that happened, and she didn’t remember much.

  A quarter hour later, the narrow streets opened up onto a large plaza crammed with booths and carts of all shapes and sizes. They had reached the marketplace, and Felicity felt a simmering of satisfaction. Soon they would have what they needed for the spell and they’d be on their way to a second transformation. One that assured their future.

  She spotted a vendor selling herbs right away. There were quite a few of them, in fact. Felicity headed to the nearest one, Dynah and Zachariah on her heels. She inspected the selection of herbs, but the wormwood was limp and lifeless. She glared at the merchant and moved to another cart.

  At the next she found a much better offering. She pulled a wrapped bunch of the plants down from where they hung over the merchant’s stall. The merchant stared at her with wide eyes. He was practically trembling. She gestured for Zachariah to pay the man, as would be appropriate for a servant to handle such things for his mistress.

  They moved about the marketplace, and it didn’t take long for Felicity to find frankincense, obsidian, and quartz. The malachite athame took a bit longer, but she found one finally with a merchant who sold blades and other weapons. As they paid the last merchant and began to make their way back to the street, she noticed a swarm of guards enter the market. Guards accompanied by a trembling man who raised a hand and pointed in their direction.

  “This isn’t good,” Zachariah said, low under his breath. “Let’s head this way.”

  They turned around and cut across the market in the opposite direction. Shouts rang out behind them, and they picked up the pace. Whereas before no one seemed to want to look at her, now everyone was looking at her.

  Zachariah led them down the first side street they came to. It was full dark now, and between the high walls of the buildings on either side of them, it grew even darker. Felicity could see the far-off twinkle of stars overhead. A cat yowled as they ran past, knocking over its hiding place in a trash bin. She looked back over her shoulder and saw movement at the mouth of the street, followed by more yelling.

  They turned down another street, trying to zig-zag to lose their followers. Ahead of them, a door opened, light spilling out into the inky darkness. The clash of pots and pans sounded from within, and a burly man emptied a barrel of dirty water out into the street right in front of them. It was so narrow it was hard to get by him with the door wide open.

  Felicity blinked after they passed the bright light, and she nearly missed Zachariah taking yet another turn. She saw his cloak disappear around a corner, as well as a flash of Dynah’s pale face as she looked back. Felicity followed, only to collide with Dynah’s back a moment later.

  “Why did you stop?” she said with a grunt.

  But then she saw. A dozen guards were fanned out before them, blocking their escape.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Penelope

  Once Willow came back inside, the boarding house woman escorted them to a small dining room in the front of the building. Her friend seemed quiet and surly, and Penelope darted a glance up at her. She wasn’t the only one—the other boarders were staring as well. They clearly didn’t get many female travelers around these parts. Let alone ones with guns and bows.

  The woman sat them at a table and scurried from the room. A couple minutes later she returned with a beef pot roast and bread rolls. Willow tore into the food with a severe lack of proper table manners.

  “If you choke to death after I made a bargain with Sahkyo, I’ll be very unhappy with you,” Penelope said with a pointed look.

  “Would you rather I die of starvation?” Willow quipped.

  “At least you were unconscious the last couple of days. You got to miss hour after hour of intense hunger.”

  Willow snorted. “Whilst I was dying from monster poison and having some of the strangest dreams of my life.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes. “Always the martyr.”

  Willow flinched and dropped her gaze.

  “Is everything okay?” Penelope had never seen her friend do such a thing, and a feeling of unsettledness crawled across her skin.

  “I’m fine,” Willow snapped, and she stuck a gigantic piece of bread in her mouth to prevent further questions.

  They finished their food a few minutes later and Penelope felt a wave of exhaustion move over her. What she really needed right now was a hot bath and a clean bed. They got up, and as they crossed the room, the boarding house woman rushed in, followed by a tall man with a cowboy hat pulled low over his face.

  They all stopped to look at each other, and Penelope saw the woman drop her gaze again. She’d clearly notified this man they were there. Why, she didn’t know.

  “You folks new in town?” drawled the man. He had piercing black eyes and was in need of a good shave. A star decorated his chest, and a gun glinted at his hip.

  “Just passing through,” Penelope said.

  “Well, I’m Deputy Crawford. I must ask for you to accompany me.”

  “Why exactly is that?” Willow asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “The Sheriff would like to see you,” the man said. “Please follow me.”

  Penelope couldn’t imagine a single good reason the Sheriff would want to see them. And the fact that they couldn’t use magic in this place made her skin tingle with dread. How had she survived all those years without it? Oh, yeah. By keeping her head down and not hunting supernatural objects for angelic beings.

  As they were marched through town, she felt the prick of eyes upon them. Cold gazes sweeping past, or sometimes even landing brazenly in an outright stare. They were not welcome here, that much was clear. Did this town know of the magic artifact hidden so close to it? Were they here to protect it? Or were they simply an unfriendly backwoods timber outpost? She really didn’t like not knowing what they were up against.

  The Sheriff’s office sat on the far side of the town, the last building on the left. As they approached, Penelope could see across the hills to the edge of a forest. They were so, so close, if they could just get through this meeting and be on their way. A glance to her side showed Willow staring off in the distance. She’d seen the forest, too. Her friend flicked her jade gaze over to her and Penelope saw her jaw clench. She hoped Willow could keep her cool. That seemed their only chance of getting out of this without repercussions.

  The scent of tobacco leaves hung on the air as they entered the wooden building. The lawman led them through the first room, which was a small space with nothing but a desk, into a back room with several jail cells. He gestured for them to take seats in a couple of wooden chairs sitt
ing outside the cells. It was about as inhospitable a place to hold a meeting as possible. Which, of course, was the whole point.

  The officer left and disappeared through a door on the opposite side of the room. Penelope looked around. There were no prisoners in the cells. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. A couple minutes passed. She could hear nothing but the faint tick tick tick of a clock in the adjacent room, and the creak of the chair beneath her as she fidgeted. Five minutes. Willow pulled out her Colt and began to play with the cylinder, spinning it back and forth. Penelope was surprised they hadn’t taken their weapons. Fifteen minutes. Were they somehow watching them? Each moment that passed seemed to take them further from their goal.

  She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she heard Atsa’s voice.

  The dream didn’t look the same as it had before. The first time Atsa visited her, she’d been in the same place where she fell asleep. There’d been a strange realism, making it hard to tell she was dreaming at all.

  But this time, she was somewhere else entirely. The jail cells were gone, and they stood in swirling mist. Penelope couldn’t see the ground beneath her or the sky above her. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Deeper in the dream realm,” Atsa responded. He smiled. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve been waiting for a long time for you to fall asleep.”

  Penelope shivered. “It’s been challenging the last few days. I haven’t been able to.”

  His smile fell. “Are you safe now?”

  She shrugged. “At the moment.”

  “Good,” he said. “I learned something new. There’s a way we can move between realms. Not just within dreams.”

  “You mean you could leave Spider Woman’s realm?”

  He nodded. “It’s called a Dream Bridge. I’m trying to find it. Once I do—”

 

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