Wanted

Curtis looked into Slinky’s eyes while she squirmed and kicked to try and get out of Sly’s grip. Sly struggled a bit to hold her still, but managed, nonetheless.

“Ah hell, sister,” Gummy yelled from the ground, still paralyzed by Trapper’s ability. “These guys got spells, too!”

“Hey, hey,” Curtis spoke softly and tried to keep Slinky’s focus on him. “No need’a fret, now. Just relax an’ you gon’ be okay. 

After a minute of fuss, Slinky gradually calmed down and met Curtis’s eyes. He had her. Curtis looked at Sly and nodded. Sly released his hold on Slinky after which she calmly walked over to Curtis.

“Hold on fer just a sec,” Curtis said to her, then turned to everyone else. “Nobody do anythin’. We’re all gonna be fine.”

The rest of the Twisted Twins’ gang kept their weapons ready, but didn’t shoot. They all looked around confused and waited for any direction from their leaders.

Killjoy watched the scene unfold, but still kept herself safe behind the stagecoach. She was physically holding her eyes open to keep from falling asleep, but she couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Sis! Levy!” Gummy called. “What’re ya doin’?”

“And shut him up,” Curtis said and Trapper tightened Gumm’s lips. Curtis walked over to Doc who was helping Virginia walk back to the stagecoach. “What d’ya think?”

Doc looked around and readjusted Virginia’s arm over his shoulders. “Well, it’d be a pain to take everyone onward to Far Reach or Thorntree. And I don’t think any of us wanna head back to Bullwater which wouldn’t be much better anyway. Killjoy’s almost done for, too, so better finish this quick.”

Curtis sighed with a glance to Killjoy and walked back over to Slinky. “Here’s what I propose,” he said. “Obviously we’d win this brawl if we kept at it. But we’re willin’ to let’cha off the hook this time if you agree t’ take yer gang an’ scram, an’ don’t mess with us again. Fair?”

“Fair,” Slinky agreed.

Gummy screamed something in his throat.

Slinky gathered her gang and had them drag the injured back up the ridge. She made the rounds and made sure no one else from her group would make trouble.

“Yeah, count yerselves lucky!” Trapper said.

Curtis glanced at him and gave a look to demand he didn’t interfere. Doc raised a hand to Trapper, too, understanding that Curtis’s charm over Slinky would be easily broken. Once Slinky got the twelve lackies to retreat from the fight, Curtis approached her again.

“Okay, we’ll let yer brother go now, but make sure he doe’n’t try nothin’.”

Slinky nodded.

Meanwhile, Killjoy couldn’t hold back her fatigue any longer and slumped forward against the Stagecoach. Her snores weren’t enough warning to the rest of the group before Trapper released his hold on Gummy.

Gummy stood and stretched, then—feeling that his limbs were looser like his spell made them fell—threw an elastic punch at Trapper, knocking Trapper square in the nose and onto the ground. Gummy then threw a quick jab at the side of his sister’s head, freeing her from Curtis’s spell. “Snap out of it!” he yelled.

Slinky blinked twice and glanced around before aiming her revolver at Curtis who raised his hands.

“Hey, hey,” Curtis exclaimed. “Look around! You’re still not in any position t’ fight. You’ve already cleared out yer help.”

Slinky gritted her teeth and looked at Gummy who was still prepared to flee. The twins nodded to each other, and Gummy stretched his legs to take only two steps to make it over the ridge while Slinky coiled her legs and jumped all the way back up the rocky hillside.

Curtis’s group took a collective sigh of relief and Minutes ‘til Midnight helped them set their cart right. Curtis tied Esprit to the cart again and tried to adjust her robes as best he could to hide her gleaming hide that was partially exposed from the bullets that tore the fabric. Her metallic skin was undamaged from the bullets which Doc took great interest in, but he didn’t probe about it.

Before continuing on the mountain path, Doc opened the window of the stagecoach and said to Curtis and Sly, “The split in the path to head northeast is comin’ up, so won’t be much longer now ‘fore we part ways.”

Curtis and Sly nodded and Mabel rejoined her group in the cart. Sure enough, not quite an hour after chasing off the Twisted Twins and Co., Minutes ‘til Midnight bid farewell to Curtis, Sly, and Mabel.

“When might we see y’all again?” Curtis asked.

Doc shrugged.

“We’ll be sure to meet up before we hit the Big City,” Virginia said.

“Just don’t git into too much trouble without us,” Doc added. “We won’t be trailin’ ya anymore, so, you’re on yer own fer now.”

The rest of the crew chuckled, Mina cracking her knuckles with Rowan still out cold in the coach. Sly smiled and glanced at Mina somewhat glad to part ways with Payton Serrano’s killer.

“Just don’t find Midnight without us,” Curtis said. “‘Specially if someone wants ‘im killed.” He nodded to Trapper who just smirked in response.

With that, Curtis, Sly, and Mabel were alone in the open desert again, this time surrounded by jagged hills and long shadows. The trio made haste through the mountains, wary of any other threats that might hinder their travel. Luckily, for the rest of their second day of traversing the uneven, wavy ridges and crests of the mountains, no other foes, human or animal, interrupted the otherwise difficult travel with the sun beating even hotter overhead the farther they went. Better still were the shadows cast by the high peaks of the mountains that provided shade even during most of the day and allowed for frequent breaks. On the third day of travel, the trio still encountered no challenge other than a crack wheel which they were able to replace with a spare and the ever-present deity of light and warmth and life that was working overtime to superheat the ground and torch any exposed skin.

Finally, when the sun was again past the tips of the mountains and its orange glow was only visible in the west, the trio crested one more ridge. There, to the west, under the countless stars revealed everywhere east of the faded fire of the sun, a town was nestled just a few miles farther almost against the rise at the edge of the Valley Strip. Sure enough, flowing from the north just outside Far Reach was the rushing black water redirected from under Bullwater’s bridges. The currents of water combining to form the river glistened in the last of the evening sun’s light. Curtis, Sly, and Mabel sat atop the ridge for a moment basking in the glory and relief of having finally conquered the mountain path, but also in disbelief at actually finding the river now on the west side of the mountains.

Mabel stepped off the back end of the wagon and stretched her arms, legs, and back. She took a step down the ridge toward Far Reach and exhaled. “Wow,” she said to the river’s now proven repositioning. “How can that even happen?”

“We know how,” Sly said. “And it won’t be fun to meet him, I’m sure.”

“But if this somehow gits us closer to findin’ Midnight,” Curtis added and stood on the bench on the wagon, “we gotta see what Far Reach is all about.”

“I’ve never been there,” Sly said. “Sunnyville is the farthest I’ve been from the Big City, but this place somehow seems like it would’ve been a worse station to be banished.”

“That’s not nice,” Mabel said. “People live here just fine like I’m sure they do in Sunnyville. Not everyone can afford a home in the wealthy towns.”

“Well, not fine enough apparently if someone with a spell decided t’ redirect the river ‘round this side o’ the mountains,” Curtis said. He turned to his companions and put his hands on his hips. “Let’s camp here tonight an’ head down in the mornin’.”

Sly and Mabel agreed, and the group set up camp as they had done now a dozen times. The next morning, the trio rose before the sun, though the sun would reveal itself within the hour it took the wagon to travel the last few miles to Far Reach. Unsurprisingly, no bridges had been built over the river given how recently it had been moved, but there were several natural bridges made from sandstone that arched over the rapidly flowing water. The land bridges didn’t quite look natural but blended into the landscape too smoothly to be man-made. The riverbanks on either side of the stream were already green despite having had less than three weeks to promote growth and with no other major plant life around, it was a wonder where seeds and spores for the grass, moss, fungi, and shrubs had blown from.

The trio cautiously took their horses and wagon over one of the sandstone arches and found the main road into town. Far Reach resembled Sunnyville more than any other town closer to the Big City, maybe a bit larger and with more colorful buildings. Like Sunnyville, not much water flowed through the area—at least before the river was rerouted—so any water the town had was from wells and the occasional shipment from Thorntree or the Big City. The roads were just as dusty as any other town in the southern half of the Mesa Frontier and electricity wasn’t as free flowing as the nearby Bullwater or Rich River. The smooth stone that made up most of the buildings in Far Reach was painted pastel colors and had wood and tiled roofing. Many of the buildings—commercial and residential—included covered terraces and balconies with large windows and sliding doors that could be opened to create large, open spaces.

Far Reach was quiet, but there were still people in the streets and sitting on restaurant terraces and townhouse balconies listening to radios and fanning themselves with hand fans. Before even making themselves stand out with questions about Midnight or the unknown outlaw who redirected the Twin River W., cautious and curious eyes followed Curtis and the others from all directions. Passersby on the street glanced at the trio and stared from across the road and through shop windows. Diners at restaurants looked over their cups while they drank and those sitting on balconies and on rooftops stared down with gazes sharper than the sun’s rays. Surely the citizens in Far Reach of all places didn’t recognize Curtis and Sly so immediately. Then again, how many pairs of men were traveling with a young girl in a horse-drawn wagon? Not far down the road, two more pairs of eyes watched the trio ride slowly through the center of town, one through a pair of goggles and the other through simple sunglasses. 

Truth locked on to Curtis and Sly and zoomed in with his digitally enhanced lenses. The man next to him, the ranger known as Promise who also worked under Angel Eyes, wore a bulky coat despite the heat and dark sunglasses. He tongued a lollipop and flicked the stick around between his lips. Promise was noticeably older than Truth in his late thirties. Dark bags sagged under his eyes beneath his sunglasses. He sat slouched in his seat with a sweating glass of water on the table beside him. Truth’s glass was empty. His immediately goggles identified Curtis and Sly as their targets before jumping to Mabel’s face sticking out the front of the wagon.

“So, who’s the girl?” Truth asked as Mabel’s full name appeared in his vision along with some basic information.

“Angel Eyes hasn’t given you the instructions ‘bout her yet?” Promise asked, not taking his eyes off Curtis and the gang.

“What instructions?”

“After arrestin’ those two, we’re takin’ her back to the Big City.”

“To do what?”

Promise shrugged and the trio disappeared down a different street. He sat up and sipped his water as a waitress refilled Truth’s glass. “Guessin’ she’ll be put in an orphanage er somethin’.”

“Think they’ll make ‘er a ranger?” Truth asked, skimming through Mabel’s profile. “Doesn’t look like there’s anyone who’d look for ‘er.”

“Maybe,” Promise said and slouched back in his chair. “I think that’s what Lady Love suggested.”

Truth huffed and shook his head. “Too soon,” he groaned.

Curtis, Sly, and Mabel stopped on the side of the road and huddled together.

“Okay, game plan,” Curtis said.

“I can go urchin-mode again,” Mabel suggested. “I’m sure I can find out more about Midnight and if there’s a strong outlaw around here.”

“Not a bad idea,” Curtis said. “Sly, any idea what the ranger presence in Far Reach is like?”

“There are maybe two at most excluding special assignments.”

Curtis nodded. “Why don’t you and I head to a tavern t’ ask some questions?”

“Taking a hint from Doc?” Mabel asked, already backing away to head to a different part of town for her own investigation. Her shoes and shirt were already dumped in the cart.

“Discretion will be best here, I think, so we don’t alert the outlaw to our presence,” Curtis said and Sly agreed. “Let’s avoid the topic of the river directly, at least for now.”

Mabel disappeared before Curtis finished his answer, so he and Sly turned the other way and directed their horses toward a building with a wide outdoor terrace. Small tables with chairs filled the terrace and a few patrons sat, hiding from the sun under the terrace and watched Curtis and Sly as they approached. After ordering a couple drinks and making light conversation with the locals, Curtis and Sly each steered their conversations toward the subject of outlaws.

“No,” one patron inside harshly blurted when Curtis finally asked if there had been any recent outlaw activity in town.

“You know anythin’ ‘bout outlaws?” Curti asked. “I’m researchin’ a pretty famous one from around a decade ago called Midnight and—”

“I’on’t know nothin’ ‘bout any of it,” the man said abruptly at a raised volume.

Curtis sighed in frustration but accepted the man’s denial to speak on the subject. When he met with Sly at the entrance, Sly mentioned a similar experience.

“Let’s find somewhere else,” Curtis said.

After more drinks at another restaurant nearby, Curtis and Sly made their moves for information.

“No outlaws been ‘ere fer ages,” an old woman told Sly. “Don’t ya know it’s bad luck to talk ‘bout such things?” She refused to speak further on the subject, walking away in a huff.

“What’re you some kind o’ law man?” another man asked Curtis. “Ain’t no outlaws round ‘ere and nobody’s gonna be able t’ tell ya jack ‘bout anyone specific no matter how famous they are in the valley.”

Curtis raised his hands in surprise at the apparent aggression received at the mention of outlaws. He glanced around the restaurant and noticed several other tables looking at him, including Sly and several other diners at the restaurant’s bar. Sly gave Curtis a nervous look, then slapped a few coins on the bar top before exiting. Curtis, now feeling the numerous drinks he consumed at the local watering holes, followed closely behind and found Sly outside brushing his fingers through Firefly’s mane.

“Welp,” Sly said and smacked his lips. “People do notlike talking about outlaws here.”

“Somethin’ ain’t right,” Curtis said and put his hands on his hips.

Sly, swaying slightly from the booze, nodded in agreement.

Curtis looked around and spotted a few people outside the restaurant watching the two of them, but they quickly turned away once Curtis noticed them. “They know somethin’. Could they be hidin’ the outlaw?” He looked at Sly for an answer.

“I’ve never heard of a whole town trying to defend an outlaw,” Sly said. “Maybe it’s not hard to imagine if we consider the context.”

Curtis kept his eyes on Sly’s.

“Think about it. The outlaw seemingly moved the river around the mountains, so it comes close to Far Reach. Before, the city had to get its water from wells or pay a lot of money to ship it from elsewhere. Far Reach isn’t a meaningless name.”

“Ya think the outlaw’s from here? That’s why he’s helpin’ them?”

“Maybe. Did you notice the weather? Feels kind of breezy. The sun hasn’t been nearly as harsh here as elsewhere in the valley.”

Curtis continued looking around the streets and acknowledged the difference in temperature. “You’re saying this outlaw has the power to move a river and control the weather?”

“Or at least control air temperature. And he probably made those land bridges over the river.”

“That’s nuts,” Curtis said. “I’m not sure we can take this guy down if he has all that power. Though, I’m not sure I want to be the ones fighting who this town probably sees as a hero. They might line up right behind ‘im after us.”

“Still want to try and ask him about Midnight?”

Curtis sighed and nodded slightly. “Gotta find ‘im first.”

“Maybe Mabel’s found something out,” Sly said. “Let’s go find her.”

***

Curtis and Sly walked around town for any sign of Mabel, stopping and asking passersby and people sitting outside restaurants if they’d seen a barefoot, teenaged girl running around covered in dirt. After several dismissive replies—something Curtis and Sly were getting used to—the two outlaws found themselves in the middle of town where they started. They were about to head in the opposite direction than before when they heard shouts and racket from a nearby establishment. From the batwing doors at the entrance, Mabel flew out and tumbled on the sandy street. Curtis and Sly rushed over and before Mabel could bring herself to her hands and knees, a heavyset woman in an apron burst from the entrance holding a broom and dustpan. She approached Mabel with aggressive swiftness and raised the broom high.

Curtis knelt beside Mabel and Sly stepped in front of the woman before she could bring the broom down upon Mabel. Sly flinched but the woman didn’t swing at him; Curtis quickly helped Mabel up. The fury in the woman’s eyes dulled a little and she brought the broom back to her side. She looked behind Sly at Mabel and Curtis.

“She yours?” she asked looking at Sly.

“Y-yes ma’am,” Sly stuttered and swallowed his nerves.

“We’re sorry if she did somethin’ to upset ya,” Curtis said.

The woman puffed out her chest, then exhaled in a long sigh.

“Git outta here,” the woman said. “We got enough trouble with the Government’s dogs runnin’ round here; now you strangers show up an’ start snoopin’. Just leave our town alone!”

People on the street were watching the scene unfold and Curtis and Sly could see sharp stares from inside the buildings. It seemed that everyone in town knew about them by now.

“Apologies again,” Sly said and turned back to Mabel and Curtis.

The three of them hurried away from the main street. Meanwhile, Truth and Promise watched the whole scene from the far side of the square.

“Let’s move in,” Truth said. He and Promise stood and stretched. With every movement Promise made, a groan of metal came from beneath his coat.

“Finally!” Promise cheered.

Curtis, Sly, and Mabel took the horses and cart toward the edge of town where there were fewer people to glare at them. The sun was on its decline, but it was far from setting.

“You okay, Mabel?” Curtis asked.

“Yeah,” Mabel said, rubbing her arm which was scrapped from her fall in the street. “These’re the rudest people I ever talked to.”

“Did you manage to get any info out of them?” Sly asked.

Mabel shook her head. “Not a single penny, either.”

Curtis sighed. He walked ahead of the group, leading Esprit who tugged the cart. Sly walked to his left and back a bit, leading Firefly. Mabel climbed atop Firefly and bobbed gently with each of the mustang’s steps.

“Sorry, y’all,” Curtis said. “It was my idea to come all the way out herein hopes the townsfolk would know anythin’ ‘bout Midnight.”

“That’s okay,” Mabel said. “It was worth a shot. Let’s just move on. We don’t wanna run into that outlaw who moved the river anyway, right?”

Sly shrugged.

Mabel continued. “‘S probly best we don’t stick ‘round fer—”

Truth and Promise rounded the corner in a hurry and spotted Curtis and the others. The trio didn’t notice the rangers as they approached, but just before they could take the group by surprise, the side of a wooden building the trio was walking past exploded into splinters and dust. Curtis and Esprit were tossed away from the building as if by an intense gale, toppling the cart with them. Firefly reared up and almost kicked Sly in the back of the head. Mabel rolled off the horse’s saddle and landed flat on her back, losing her wind and gasping for breath. Truth and Promise halted their pursuit and got ready for a fight. Sly let go of Firefly’s reigns and rushed over to Curtis. Mabel crawled on her hands and knees until reaching the front of the gaping wall where she heard a shaky groan.

“Damn,” a quivering male voice said from the dark hole. “I was hopin’ to git all three of ya in one gust.”

“Shit,” Promise said.

Mabel breathed heavily as the ringing in her ears faded. From the hole emerged a frail man wearing only loose fabric pants and a straw hat. His torso and arms were skinny and his skin pale. His hair was light, long and unkempt, and he had red patches all over his skin where he profusely scratched himself. His baggy eyes and permanent frown highlighted his sickly nature.

“He wasn’t on the docket for today,” Truth said, recognizing the outlaw as the reason for the river’s diversion—Frankie Lin.

Sly knelt next to Curtis and Esprit. Curtis’s leg was caught under the heavy steed, but they freed it and found it not broken, though Curtis still limped slightly. They looked at Mabel on the ground in front of the gale’s source.

“Mabel!” Sly called.

The frail Frankie took several more steps toward her, scratching his chest and neck. Dirt flaked from his skin with every scratch and his acne oozed from the clawing.

“Hello, little girl” he groaned.

Mabel got to her hands and knees, finally having caught her breath. Truth appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her with him as he slid away from Frankie. Promise, still standing in his original position, raised his left arm and held his palm up at Frankie. With a tremendous BOOM, a marble-sized lead orb ejected from his hand toward Frankie. Frankie sneered and with a tiny gesture with his hand, a wall of dirt and sand rose to catch the bullet. Truth stood after making sure Mabel was stable and threw his jacket off himself. He lowered his goggles onto his eyes and let the mechanical eyewear work its magic and the digital screen inside the lenses locked onto Frankie’s face.

His arm jolted into position with aid from a mechanical attachment that went down the length of his arm and had a series of wires leading from the shoulder to the back of his goggles. He aimed his revolver perfectly at Frankie’s face with one swift motion, though the jerking action seemed a bit uncomfortable to the ranger. He fired, but again Frankie blocked the bullet with another wall, just barely. Sly fired a shot not long after, but this time Frankie threw both arms forward, summoning a powerful wind and suspending the bullet just inches from his hands before letting it fall to the ground. Sly stood motionless and swallowed his spit. Curtis frowned and intently watched Frankie intently.

“Go, Promise!” Truth yelled.

Frankie saw a shadow move above him and when he looked up, Promise was high in the air above him. He didn’t have time to worry about how he had gotten up there so quickly. Promise, too, tossed his heavy coat away and revealed two mechanical arms like Orator’s that replaced his organic ones, along with two additional metal prosthetics. Each arm seemed to be equipped with various tools and weapons. He pushed his lower left arm down toward Frankie. A thin pipe extending from his wrist sparked a tiny flame, but it was enough for the gas being expelled from his palm to catch and ignite an enormous blaze down onto Frankie. The walls Frankie had erected served as a mud oven and confined the flames to just around Frankie and the outlaw disappeared in the inferno.

Mabel, Sly, and Curtis watched the powerful display from Promise in silence. The three of them could feel the heat even standing several yards away. Promise continued to torch Frankie for a few more seconds before realizing the absolute silence coming from the makeshift oven. He halted the burn to find that Frankie had, in fact, disappeared. He stood atop the two dirt walls and peered down into a hole where Frankie had been standing. The hole went deep enough to become dark and led to who-knew-where. Truth walked over and talked with Promise quietly.

“So, Sly, who’re those guys?” Curtis asked.

Mabel rejoined them right when Curtis asked.

“The one with the goggles,” Sly said, “is Bobby Boyle, aka ‘Truth’. And his partner there with the four arms in Quinn Becker, ‘Promise’. They’re Angel Eyes’s men, part of the White Snakes doyen group.”

Curtis looked the rangers up and down, then said, “Those’re some pretty fancy git ups. ‘Specially Promise’s.”

Sly only nodded and Mabel said nothing. The ground beneath them rumbled and Frankie burst from the alley’s shaded sand, screaming, in a dusty eruption. Curtis, Sly, and Mabel were sent several yards in separate directions, landing harshly on the ground again and rolling in the sand. A moment later, a rush of water surged from the new hole like a geyser and rained down on the alleyway. Frankie stood on his bare feet and charged at Curtis.

“You!” Frankie squealed. “What’re you doing here?”

“Me?” Curtis asked as he recovered and drew a revolver, but before he could fire a shot, a stalagmite spike made from the dirt at his feet formed and shot upward to hit his hand. The spike knocked the revolver from his grip, then some of the water from the column spewing from the newer hole thrust horizontally at Curtis and pushed him, soaking and prone, several more yards in another direction. Curtis groaned and tried to stand as quickly as he could.

“If yer town needed water that bad, why didn’t you just do that?” Curtis tried to joke. “I just have some questions; I don’t wanna fight.”

Frankie yelled and threw a fist at Curtis from afar and a rounded lump of earth rose to try and pummel Curtis, but he dodged out of the way and raised his revolver. He fired without hesitation, but another spike of dirt rose and blocked the bullet from hitting Frankie’s shoulder. Curtis fired twice more, and twice more Frankie, blocked the shots with columns of dirt that collapsed after doing their duty. Frankie ran at Curtis again and clapped his hands, sending a wave of wind at Curtis who raised his arms in defense. The wind strained the fabric of Curtis’s sleeves and was too strong to resist, lifting Curtis from his feet and sending him flying once more. Curtis slid through the sand on his back. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Truth standing over him, looking down at him.

“Y’ain’t gonna reason with ‘im,” Truth said. He held out his hand to help Curtis up.

Curtis waited a moment, then took Truth’s hand and stood. He rolled his neck and shoulders and stretched his back.

“He’s crazed,” Truth said. “Only cares about keepin’ unwanted folk outta town.”

“What’s he want with me, though?” Curtis asked.

“I’on’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you bring unwanted attention wherever you go.”

“Pfft,” Curtis huffed.

Promise rushed forward and held up his lower right arm which fired another lead pellet. Curtis examined Promise’s arms and saw that his upper right arm had some sort of hook attachment tied to some cord that looped around to a compartment Promise carried on his back. His lower right arm, along with the hole from which a spherical bullet had just fired, had a small nozzle protruding from the wrist connected to a tube that led to a different part of the same compartment on his back. His upper left arm also had a hole from which to fire pellets, as well as a large, rectangular box worked into the top of his forearm. Then, of course, his lower left arm contained the flamethrower displayed earlier. Curtis accepted that he would need these rangers’ help to defeat Frankie Lin, but what about once he was taken down?

After firing from his lower right arm, Promise switched to his upper left and fired once more. Frankie blocked both shots with dirt columns and sent a rush of water from the geyser at Promise who took a similar stance as Curtis had before being sent away by the blast. Sly held both his revolvers now and fired rapidly. Frankie barely moved to summon a thick wall to shield him from the barrage, then flicked his hand upward to summon a gust of wind from beneath Sly and toss him upward.

“Sly!” Mabel yelled before being tossed to the side by another gust, sending her toward the toppled cart and a completely calm Esprit.

Truth leapt around Frankie’s side and aimed through his goggles. Again, the motion of aiming and firing was incredibly quick and precise. Frankie summoned another wall, but this time the bullet blasted through the thin layer of sand that formed before the rest of the wall. The bullet was redirected and only clipped Frankie’s ear, but for the first time since his appearance, Frankie Lin bled. The deranged outlaw threw a fit, tossing his arms around and clutched his bleeding ear. He screeched and summoned a muddy wave to crash down over Truth, washing him away and out of the alley. Curtis breathed steadily and looked at the ground for a moment, then up at Frankie.

“I might just have to reason with ‘im,” Curtis said quietly aloud.

In his fit of rage, Frankie didn’t notice Promise charging at him before the four-armed ranger was almost on top of him. Promise lunged and used his mechanical arms to pin Frankie to the ground. Frankie screamed and squirmed at first, then looked up at Promise and his screams became laughter. Frankie sank into the soaking sand, dragging Promise with him. Frankie was completely consumed by the dirt and dust and left Promise stuck in a thick sludge, unable to use any of his limbs. Frankie emerged from the ground elsewhere in the alley. Sly recovered from his fall and aimed at Frankie again. Curtis withdrew his other revolver from his waist and took aim, and Truth raced back into the alley with his goggles locking onto Frankie. The three gunmen fired simultaneously.

Frankie cried out and a dome of mud surrounded him, catching each of the bullets and sucking them into its mucky mass.

“Damn!” Truth exclaimed.

Inside the dome, in the dampness and darkness of his shelter, Frankie’s arm bled from the bullet Truth fired. Frankie took quivering breaths and groaned in frustration.

“You’ll all pay,” Frankie moaned and pointed inside the dome. “Everyone will pay!”

Outside the dome, Curtis, Sly, and Truth watched the dome as they heard a scream from within. Promise yanked his arms and legs but couldn’t get free from the mud. Mabel hid behind Esprit and rubbed the horse’s smooth, sleek hide, primarily for her own comfort.

The ground in the alley rumbled and the air became hot. Everyone stumbled to their hands and knees as the temperature in the air rose even higher.

“Leave this place alone!” Frankie yelled.

The air became hotter and hotter, wavier and wavier. Sweat quickly dripped from everyone’s faces and soon, the water on the ground from the geyser bubbled and began to evaporate. Everyone was focused on breathing and staying cool; only Curtis noticed a hole just big enough for Frankie to look out of had formed in the dome.

“Nobody paid attention to Far Reach before,” Frankie yelled. “So why now are y’all getting’ all up in our faces?”

“Look,” Curtis yelled back, “when you do somethin’ as big as movin’ a whole river around the other side of the mountains, that’s gonna git some attention.” Curtis took a deep breath. His head was throbbing from the heat even without direct sunlight overhead. His vision was blurry, or was that just the heat waves from the increasingly rising temperature?

“I know who you are…” Frankie groaned. “And you brought these rangers here.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Curtis said.

“Don’t ya know you’re followed everywhere you go? The Government wants you, not me!”

“Pretty sure the Government wants you, too,” Curtis said under his breath.

“You attract law enforcement and other outlaws everywhere you go! Ever since that stunt in Yellowtusk—an’ I know that was you!—you’ve been leading a parade of rangers through the Mesa Frontier. Yer name might not be in the news yet, but the Government knows it was you and knows what you’re capable of!”

“Listen, Curtis breathed. “I think this is all a misunderstanding.” He took a moment to gather his breath. Sweat was falling into his eyes and his skin felt like it was melting. “I came here to ask ‘bout someone I know came through here some time ago. I just want information, that’s all.”

“Then why’re you workin’ with rangers to take me down?” Frankie asked.

“Brother, you attacked us first!” Curtis exhaled deeply and focused on staying awake in the heat. His fingers dug into the muddy sand and he forced his head up to look at Frankie through the hole in the dome. “I understand that you’re mad, I do! I was mad at everyone, too, once, but I didn’t have the strength t’ do anythin’ about it for a long time. I lost everythin’ I had and was livin’ on the streets in the Big City for a while.”

Frankie yelled and threw his arms up. “But you were there, not here!”

“Trust me,” Curtis said, “it wasn’t as nice as everyone makes it out to be. Maybe it is to those who can afford a life there, but I couldn’t. People passed me by every day and night, just looking at this frail kid and doin’ nothin about it. Then, guess what? Someone was kind enough t’ take me in. But it didn’t last long before I lost him, too. So, you know what? I’m still mad. I’m mad at the world fer bein’ so cruel. I’m mad at the Government for makin’ the only person who cared about me run and’ hide.”

Frankie watched Curtis as he slowly willed himself to stand despite the earthquake and heatwave. Curtis stood and looked Frankie in the eyes, then took one step forward.

“I’m mad and damn tired of havin’ to fight fer my life every stinkin’ day,” Curtis said. “And today is no different. Tomorrow won’t be different either. I can say that, because I ain’t gonna give up. This world don’t tolerate cowards, and cowards die when they give up!”

Curtis took another step forward and planted his feet firmly in the mud. Frankie’s breath was unsteady, and his legs trembled.

“This guy…” he whispered. “He’s just like…”

“Come on!” Curtis yelled. He threw his fists down and kept looking at Frankie. Gotcha, he thought.

Frankie stood still. The muddy dome collapsed suddenly, revealing Frankie and covering him in mud. The ground stopped rumbling and the geyser of water calmed to a steady burble before disappearing into the hole it came from. The air in the alleyway cooled and everyone fighting the heat let themselves fall and lay in the cold mud. Curtis didn’t fall, though, and used all his strength to walk over to Frankie.

“You know who I’m lookin’ for, don’tcha?” Curtis asked quietly.

Frankie looked at Curtis, then rubbed his eyes. Tears began to fall. “You’re… you’re…”

“What d’ya know about ‘im?”

“I…” Frankie moaned through his tears.

“Come on,” Curtis urged him with a whisper. “We don’t have much time here. Please, tell me.”

“When…I was just a kid…the sheriff in town was a bad man. He mistreated…the townsfolk. Damn that old man… One day, a man in dark clothes and a dark hat came through town. The sheriff… he said the man was a terrible outlaw. He stopped the man in town and had a shootout. Even… Even after the man had been shot, he still stood and fought back against the sheriff, and…”

Frankie closed his eyes and stayed silent for a moment.

“What?” Curtis probed. “What happened?”

Frankie took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “The man in dark clothes…killed the sheriff… To some of us, he was a hero fer it. To the law…he was a villain. His supporters hid him in town fer as long as we could…but others ratted ‘im out, so he had to leave…”

“Did you get to talk to the man? Did ya git to know anythin’ about ‘im?”

“We knew he had a power…but he wouldn’t…share any details. You have a power, too, don’tcha? And my power… I only got it a year ago… Then, a surge of outlaws with powers started.”

“How did you get yer powers?” Curtis asked and put his hands on Frankie’s shoulders. “Did it have anythin’ to do with the dark-clothed man?”

Frankie smiled. “They said…I could be…just…like…him…”

“You used yer spell too, much,” Curtis said. “Come on, sit.”

FLOOMP!

Promise, now standing free from the mud thanks to help from Truth, fired a wire net from the box on his upper left arm. While flying, the net sparked alight and loud buzzing could be heard from it. The net wrapped around Frankie and shocked him. He fell to the ground, seizing, and soon fell unconscious. Curtis stepped forward to help but realized the change in circumstances. He turned to see Promise swaggering over with shackles. Curtis stepped aside and Promise knelt to bind Frankie, then stood and looked at Curtis. He raised his upper left hand and aimed his palm at Curtis.

“Wait,” Truth called and walked over to Promise and Curtis.

Sly also wandered over, but Mabel stayed with the toppled cart.

“First off,” Truth said, “thank you. For the help dealing with Frankie Lin. It ain’t on the pamphlets yet, but the Government’s already set a bounty on his head. Unfortunately, fer you, we’ll be cashing in said bounty.”

Curtis and Sly were about to speak, but Truth raised a hand to cut them off.

“Fortunately,fer you,” Truth continued, “in exchange, we’ll let y’all go.”

“What?” Promise exclaimed.

Curtis and Sly were just as surprised, but relieved and too tired to show enthusiasm. Promise stepped forward to oppose Truth, but Truth raised his hand again.

“Just this once,” he said. “If… When we see y’all again, we’ll be takin’ you in.”

Promise was visually perturbed, but didn’t object, and neither did Curtis or Sly. The two outlaws hurried back to the cart and hoisted it back upright and helped Esprit stand. Sly fetched Firefly who had run from the alley and was parked calmly in front of a convenience store. The shoppers inside looked concerned and huddled together in the back of the store. Before retreating from Far Reach, Sly raced back over to Truth and Promise.

“One thing before we go,” he said. “Can we have an updated bounty pamphlet? You have one from the start of the month, right?”

Truth sighed and gestured for Promise to give his to Sly. Promise sneered and begrudgingly took his pamphlet from his pocket and handed it to Sly. Sly thanked them and ran back toward the cart when Truth called out one more time.

“Dawn! We’ve seen the reports on that steel horse o’ yers. What is it?”

Curtis, already mounted in the driver’s seat of the cart, looked down and thought, then looked at Truth and said, “Just a trusty steed’s all.”

“Where’d you git it?”

“‘Twas a gift from someone.” He shrugged. “Can’t tell ya from who, though.”

Truth furrowed his brow, then nodded and gave a brief wave goodbye.

Curtis, Sly and Mabel rushed out of town heading north into the desert as the sun set over the high western wall of the valley. Once Far Reach was just out of sight and the valley had become almost totally dark, the trio stopped to make camp.

“How much of a head start do you think the White Snakes will give us?” Sly asked the group.

Mabel shrugged, and Curtis said, “Probably not enough.”

“What’d ya learn from Frankie Lin?” Mabel asked Curtis. “‘Bout Midnight?”

Curtis sighed and looked into the fire that Sly had constructed. “There’s a person—or persons—out there givin’ people spells willy nilly, and most o’ the recipients have some kind o’ memory of Midnight, or even knew ‘im at one point.”

“So, we need t’ talk to whoever that is,” Mabel said.

Curtis nodded.

“Woah!” Sly yelled from across the fire. “Oh, man…”

“What?” Curtis asked.

Sly walked around and handed Curtis the bounty pamphlet and pointed to the top of the first page. In the top margin, Promise had written Frankie Lin’s name and next to it, the not-yet-public bounty. Mabel spit out the drink she just started sipping and Curtis groaned.

“Eighty-four gold!” Mabel shouted.

“He was almost Maverick level,” Curtis groaned again.

“Even though they didn’t know much about him,” Sly said. “His spell alone must’ve warranted such a high reward.”

The trio sat around for a moment, sulking. Mabel took the bounty pamphlet and flipped through it, then stopped at Curtis’s name.

“Hey,” she said. “Check it out.”

Curtis and Sly looked at the page to see Curtis’s bounty had increased from 12 gold all the way to 38 gold.

“Yellowtusk really did it, huh?” Mabel teased.

Sly took the pamphlet and flipped to his name which was just on the next page.

“Damn, eight gold for me,” Sly said, somewhat disappointed. “Still only alive, too.”

“That’s a good thing, though, right?” Mabel asked.

“Yeah, I guess…” Sly sat back across the fire. “Dead or alive sounds cooler, though.”

Curtis chuckled and Mabel smiled. The night air was cooler than it had been for weeks.

***

“Thank ya kindly,” Truth said to the bank teller who handed him his reward in a small coin purse. Promise was speaking with members of a special containment team that transports outlaws with spells back to the Big City. Truth turned to walk back to Promise when the phone at the teller’s booth rang. The teller answered it and looked at Truth.

“It’s fer you, sir,” he said.

Truth took the corded phone and answered.

“I hear you’ve detained Frankie Lin,” Angel Eyes said from the other side of the phone. “Excellent work, Truth.”

“Thank you, sir,” Truth said, having expected the caller to be his superior.

“Is Promise with you?” Angel Eyes asked.

“He’s dealing with containment.”

“I see.” There was a moment of silence before Angel Eyes continued. “And what of Dawn, Sly, and Ms. Greene?”

Truth hesitated. His skin suddenly felt hot. “They…got away…”

Angel Eyes was silent for another moment, then said again, “I see.”

“We really hadn’t expected to encounter Frankie, to be honest, sir. We were just about to capture Dawn and Sly when Frankie got in the way. We had no choice but to focus on him and, well, the others got away in the commotion.”

Again, a silent moment.

“Very well,” Angel Eyes said.

“We are very sorry to disappoint you sir, but it won’t happen again. We’ll catch them.”

“Yes, you will. You shouldn’t worry yourself about disappointing me, but I have superiors that I must report to, as well, and if Idisappoint them, that is when you ought to worry.”

Truth was silent this time.

Angel Eyes continued. “Did you see which direction they left town?”

“North,” Truth said with shaky breath.

“Toward Thorntree, then. Faith and Virtue are already there. I sent them to watch the others Dawn and Sly had met up with briefly. They can watch for Dawn and Sly, as well, and perhaps have a chance to catch them. In fact, I’ll ensure they do get that chance. Just in case, however, I want you and Promise to head to Dry Creek in case the trio escapes Thorntree. They’ll have nowhere else to run from there.”

“How d’ya know they’ll head there after Thorntree? Mabel they’ll make the trip north around the Big City to hit up the Dry Prairie.”

“Armani Anderson shared an interesting tidbit of information yesterday. I can’t share with anyone just yet, but I’m certain it means Dawn will want to visit Dry Creek, and the others will go with him.”

Truth thought silently about that.

“Very good work, again, catching Frankie Lin, Truth,” Angel Eyes said and broke Truth’s train of thought.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Send Promise my regards and congratulations.”

“Of course. Thank you again.”

The phone line buzzed following a quiet click from the other side.

Click here for a map of the journey so far.

Sly looked at Mabel from across their campfire. The moon was high in the sky, black with a slivering crescent to restart its cycle. Curtis’s eyes saw the stars, but Sly’s saw an upset friend and Mabel’s saw soft, dark sand.

“What’s wrong?” Sly asked Mabel.

Curtis looked down and around to his companions as Mabel looked up at Sly. Mabel turned her head and looked at Curtis.

“What?” Curtis asked.

Mabel looked at the ground again. “It’s nothin’,” she mumbled.

Sly shook his head. “That’s not how ‘nothing’ sounds. We talked about this, remember? We support each other, right?”

Mabel looked at Sly again, then at Curtis, and back at Sly. She took a deep breath.

“I’m not lookin’ forward to visitin’ Thorntree again,” she said, then looked back down. “‘Specially as a tourist.”

Curtis and Sly looked at each other.

“Hey,” Curtis said. “It’ll be alright. Whatever you’re worried ‘bout, it’s been a long time since you were there. I’m sure things’re different. Probly fer the better.”

Mabel said nothing.

After a few seconds passed, Sly interjected. “I get that you’re scared of going back to find that things are totally different, and that maybe everyone you knew is gone, including…” He paused, trying to word his sentiments carefully.

Mabel shook her head. “I’m not scared o’ that place. I expect to go back and have no familiarity with anyone or anythin’ there. What I’m scared of is…” She sniffled and swiped her nose on her sleeve, and took another breath before replying, “What if… What if I go back and my family isstill there?”

Curtis and Sly looked at Mabel with inquisitive looks, waiting for more details.

Mabel continued... “What if they’re still there and doin’ okay and…” Tears broke the dam of her ducts, but she didn’t end there. Through shivering voice and blurry vision, she said in an elevated tone, “What if they’re okay and no one came lookin’ fer me?”

 Sly exhaled and shook his head.

“Mabel,” he said quietly. “Don’t say that, come on. You really think your parents, given a choice, would’ve just left you alone forever? That’s ridiculous; what parents would do that? Right, Dawn?”

Curtis looked at Sly and hesitated, then blinked twice and cleared his throat.

“Of course,” Curtis said. “We all know yer parents loved ya, from what ya told us. If they could’ve, I have no doubt that they’d’ve come lookin’. But, then…”

Mabel dipped her head and cried into her hands for a moment, then exhaled and wiped her face. After collecting her emotions, she turned toward the men.

“I don’t know which is worse to think… that my parents are okay and didn’t look fer me, or that they’re gone altogether and probly dead.”

Curtis and Sly stayed quiet for a minute. When Mabel didn’t speak again, Sly spoke up.

“We probably won’t get to Thorntree until the morning after tomorrow,” he said, “so, we have plenty of time to talk about everything and get you ready.”

Curtis agreed with a nod.

***

The trio didn’t talk about Thorntree again for the whole next day. Mabel acted okay and was as talkative as usual, but Curtis and Sly dared not bring up Mabel’s parents without her starting the conversation, which she didn’t.

The sun beat down on the sand from high above as it had since the days of the Valley Strip’s formation, but the trio was thankful that the heatwave was finally over. The air was still hot, but not as hot as the last several weeks and to the experienced band of wanderers, this heat was palatable. Mabel was especially appreciative. In the middle of talking about her times alone in the desert again, Mabel stopped speaking abruptly and looked at a nearby dune.

“Did I just see someone over there?” she asked.

Curtis and Sly turned and looked at the same dune. They saw no one.

“Sure it wasn’t a mirage?” Curtis teased.

“Could’ve been Truth or Promise,” Sly suggested. “They had ample time to catch up to us overnight.”

“We’ll be ready fer ‘em,” Curtis said.

Mabel shrugged, then returned to her recount of her lonely travels.

The rest of the day was uneventful except for twice more when Mabel swore she saw someone peeking at them over a dune or from behind some boulders. Every time she and the men looked closer, nobody was seen. Just out of view, however, there really was someone watching them and mischievously twisting their curly mustache between their pointer finger and thumb.

As the sun set on the day after the trio left Far Reach, the nefarious onlooker retreated north ahead of Curtis, Sly, and Mabel. In the darkness of the desert, a warm glow radiated from a large circus tent. A sign over the fabric arch through which the trio’s stalker ran read, “Curly’s Crazy Carnival Circus.”

When the sun was almost totally gone from the sky, Curtis, Sly, and Mabel looked around for a good spot to set up camp. During the search, Mabel asked, “Hey, what’s that?”

“Another disappearing person?” Curtis asked playfully.

“No,” Sly said. “It’s Curly’s!”

“The circus?” Curtis asked confused, looking ahead at the distant warm glow of the torches inside the tent.

Sly spurred Firefly’s side to pick up the pace.

“What’re they doin’ out here?” Mabel asked Curtis as Sly galloped ahead of the cart.

“Travelin’ I s’pose,” Curtis said.

“And there goes Sly racin’ ahead,” Mabel said. “How many times you think he’ll do that before realizin’ it gits ‘im in trouble e’ery time?”

“Nah,” Curtis groaned. “Not everytime.”

Mabel chuckled.

Sly waited near the tent’s entrance for his crew to catch up before dismounting Firefly and entering the tent. No music emanated from inside this time. Upon entering, the tent was noticeably emptier than when the trio saw it set up for the show in Bullwater. The wooden bleachers for the crowd weren’t unstacked. The lit torches were stuck into the sand and none of the electric lights were on. The central ring had a floor of gritty sand instead of soft grass and the net separating the center from the surroundings lay on the ground.

Ten mustachioed individuals—part of Curly’s Crazy Carnival Crew—lazily stood around inside. In the middle of the tent, Kinky and Crinkly swung through the air on the trapeze, practicing their act to the applause of the nonchalant Crew members. Below them, Frizzy juggled numerous objects in her hands and softly spoke with Furly. Corkscrew and the rest of the band held their instruments but weren’t playing music. Curly himself was nowhere to be seen.

Sly took in the enormity of the tent’s interior when it was almost totally empty. Mabel was also in awe and Curtis looked around aimlessly. Sly raised a hand and was about to call out to the members of the circus but froze in his tracks when he took a closer look at some of them. Behind their mustaches, Sly recognized the juggler and the sword swallower. He took deep breaths and whispered to his companions.

“Wait,” he said. “We should leave.”

“Why?” Mabel said at her regular volume.

“Those two right there,” Sly said, pointing to Frizzy and Furly.

Curtis gave a curious look.

“We didn’t see them, so I know you don’t recognize them,” Sly said, “but that’s Rene ‘Gold Teeth’ Giles and Rudy ‘Fool’ Ortega, members of the Band of Lovers,! They’ll definitely know who we are. We need to go!”

By then, the trio had gotten the attention of the circus’s members who watched them for a moment and smiled in greeting. Then, from behind the trio, a cheerful voice rang through the hollow fabric shelter.

“Hello, strangers!” Curly yelled. Mabel and Sly whipped around to face Curly, but Curtis continued cautiously watching Frizzy and Furly. “I was just ‘round back when I thought I’d heard the sounds of horses and a wagon! You all must be traveling through the desert, too, toward Thorntree, yes?”

Sly swallowed his spit and Mabel nodded.

“Well, what a treat!” Curly said and walked between the trio toward his group. “Come, come. We’re practicing for our shows in Thorntree this coming weekend. Please, gather ‘round and watch!”

Shit, Curtis and Sly both thought.

Curly walked the trio over to the middle of the tent and reintroduced the cast of their show.

“Those two are Kinky and Crinkly,” Curly said in a quieter voice than during the show, but still enthusiastically. The leotarded woman hung upside down on the trapeze, hanging on with her knees, and the man sat atop his bar with his back to the trio, but he twisted his torso to face them. They both waved and smiled.

“That’s Wavy,” Curly said, pointing to the mustachioed woman who ran around with a lion during the show. “And Frizzy,” he said, pointing across the tent to Rene Giles who had stopped juggling now.

Curly moved to the five musicians who, conveniently, sat in a row in the order they were normally introduced. He said, “That’s Corkscrew,” and started with the man holding a small marimba in his lap. “With Wriggle, Wiggle, Topsy, and Turvy,” he sped along and flashed his finger at the man with the cornet, the woman with the baritone, the man with the tuba, and the man with the accordion.

Curly moved back across the tent, pointing at the gymnast and diver who wore a sleeveless shirt. “That’s Twirly,” then moved back to the opposite side with Rene and pointed at Rudy, saying, “and Furly.”

“And of course, I’m Curly” he finished with a deep breath as if listing all the names, even in a much calmer tone, was tiring. He took a quick bow and motioned for the trio to join him on the ground to watch the rest of the performers practice.

Mabel stayed quiet, trying not to be too excited for the behind-the-scenes look at the circus and knowing well that they were still in danger, as usual.

“That’s really great and all,” Sly said, “but we really shouldbe going. We were just about to set up camp and we don’t want to bother you all, so—”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Curly said and stood straight again. “We’d love fer you to stay here tonight. We got food an’ water an’ plenty o’ space.” He said the last part with a chuckle as he gestured around the massive, empty tent. “I’m sure Wavy would introduce you to Razzle the lion.”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled at the thought, but she shook the idea out of her head.

“Where’s Dazzle?” Curtis asked jokingly to complete the two-part rhyme.

“That was Razzle’s brother,” Curly said in a serious tone. “But sadly, we could only afford one lion at the time and Dazzle’s since been sold to a zoo.”

The trio was quiet.

“Please, I insist,” Curly urged. “Stay.”

“No,” Curtis said. “We’re leaving. We appreciated the hospitality.”

Curtis, Sly, and Mabel turned to exit, but suddenly, Kinky and Crinkly swung on their trapeze and released the bars to fly and land between the trio and the entrance.

“What the—” Sly said, turning back to Curly. Curtis turned back, as well, but Mabel stayed facing the trapezists.

“To tell ya the truth,” Curly said, “we recognize y’all from our show in Bullwater. More specifically, we recognize you, good sir.” He pointed to Curtis. “And we know you got a special horse o’ some kind. We spotted it on yer way into town. Most people wouldn’t keep their horses totally covered like that, so we sent Wavy here to peep out the scene.”

“Y’all followed us to the stable?” Curtis asked. “And went through our stuff?”

Curly raised his hands slightly. “Hey, hey, we didn’t steal nothin’ if that’s what yer worried ‘bout.”

Curtis took a step forward. “I don’t give a damn if ya took anythin’.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you’re too nosy fer yer own good.” Curtis drew a revolver and pointed it at Curly as he took another step forward.

Curly chuckled and all five musicians revealed their own revolvers from inside or underneath their instruments. Rene took one from the pile of juggling materials and Rudy took one from his belt hidden on the other side of himself. Kinky and Crinkly took a step toward Mabel and forced her backward into Curtis and Sly’s backs. The trio looked around at the numerous guns surrounding them. Curtis slowly raised his hands, gun still in hand, and leaned away from Curly.

“This might be a circus,” Curly said, “but let’s not be too excitable.”

“What do ya want?” Curtis asked.

Curly stepped away from the crowded greetings-turned-hostage-situation and walked around in the middle of the tent. “It’s our job to find wild and wacky talents and wonders and show them off to the people. So, when we found out yer horse ain’t all that it seems, we knew we had to make it part of our show.”

“No way,” Curtis said.

“Five hundred gold,” Curly said confidently.

Mabel’s jaw dropped wide open, and she slowly turned to face Curly. Sly swallowed his spit and began to sweat. Curtis took a deep breath, acknowledged how much money was already on the table, and looked directly into Curly’s eyes.

“I said no way,” Curtis repeated.

“Seven-fifty,” Curly said.

Mabel almost started drooling at the possibility of obtaining such a prize. That much money could set the three of them up for life. They could find somewhere quiet to stay and live the rest of their lives in peace. She knew that wasn’t the goal for Curtis, and at this point for Sly either, but she couldn’t help but find the ideal tantalizing.

“I know where you’re comin’ from,” Curtis said, “but that horse means more to me than profit. It was a gift, and I need it fer a special reason. I can’t just give it away.”

“Y’ain’t givin’ it away,” Curly said. “If you’re smart, I’ll be payin’ you for it. One thousand gold, final offer.”

The trio was silent, and Curtis stared sternly into Curly’s eyes.

“That’s one million dimes,” Curly said with a raised voice. “Take it er leave it.”

“Sorry I wasn’t clear before,” Curtis said. “I’m leavin’ it.”

“Careful, Curly,” Rene said.

“I know, I know,” Curly said, waving his hand at her over his shoulder. “It’s a real shame, mister Conrad.”

Curtis’s brow furrowed realizing that Curly recognized him from more than just the crowd in Bullwater.

“You could’a been a rich man,” Curly said. “Topsy, Turvy, bring me that horse.”

Curtis stepped toward Curly. The rest of Curly’s Crew steadied their guns toward their adversaries again and Crinkly grabbed Mabel and hoisted her off the ground, putting her into a choke hold with her feet dangling high above the sand. Sly hovered his hands over his revolvers, knowing that he couldn’t do anything just yet. Curtis’s hands shook.

“When I said take it er leave it,” Curly said, “I meant either take the money or leave the horse fer free.” He laughed at the absurd proposition.

“Don’t think you’ll git away with this,” Curtis growled through gritted teeth.

Curly laughed again, gesturing to the guns surrounding Curtis and his companions.

“Curly…” Rene groaned. “We told you who they are.”

“Doesn’t mean we should be afraid,” Curly said. “Look, they’re helpless. Just go take their guns. Furly, help ‘er.”

Rene and Rudy slowly walked over to Curtis and Sly.

“You’ll regret this,” Curtis warned again.

“Pish posh!” Curly yelled. “Topsy, Turvy, hurry up out there!”

“Y’all’re just confident ‘cause ya outnumber us,” Curtis said. “But we don’t give up that easy.”

With that, time seemed to freeze momentarily. The remaining musicians, Corkscrew, Wriggle, and Wiggle, all lowered their guns slowly. Crinkly lowered Mabel to the ground and released his grip on her and Kinky stood by idly. Even Curly’s expression became neutral just briefly. The only two not caught in the spell were Rene and Rudy, but it was enough for Sly to act. He drew his seven-shot revolver and fired almost instantly at Rene and pierced her arm with a bullet. Her arm went limp, and she dropped her gun and recoiled from the pain. Rudy returned a shot at Sly and hit his side below his ribs. Mabel turned quickly and kicked Crinkly’s knee. When he kneeled to hold his knee, Mabel punched him square in the nose.

Mabel felt her knuckles crack and she pulled her fist back and held it. Crinkly fell over, groaning. Curtis felt intensely exhausted suddenly and exhaled, not having realized that he was holding his breath. With that, Kinky shook her head and blinked a few times to see Crinkly on the ground beside her. She looked at Mabel with an angry expression and the girl raised her fists, using her experience from the streets of Coyote Run to fend against a bigger, but unarmed opponent. Curtis quickly drew one revolver and shot Rudy’s foot. Rudy fell to the ground, holding his bleeding foot and writhing in pain. Sly held his wound with one hand and fired another shot at Rene with his free hand, sending her to the ground in pain.

Outside, the gunshots echoed across the open and dark desert, miles from the nearest person who could hear them. When Curly snapped out of the charm, he looked around, panicked. Sly turned and fired shots at Wriggle, Wiggle, and Corkscrew who all returned fire. As if it was part of an act, the frenzied shots were careless and not well-aimed. One more landed in Sly’s left thigh and Sly managed to hit Corkscrew and knock him out of the fight; Sly ducked and dove in the sand, and fired two more rounds at Wriggle, ricocheting off the cornet and penetrating Wriggle’s chest just below the collarbone. Curtis aimed and fired at Wiggle just before she fired more shots at Sly. Meanwhile, Curly ran toward the exit on the opposite side of the tent.

Mabel wrestled with Kinky on the ground and rolled toward the rest of the group, not paying any mind to the gunshots around them. Curtis whipped around and fired several shots at Curly, one of which pierced Curly’s calf and brought the ringleader to the ground, clutching his leg and moaning in agony. Sly turned to Mabel and aimed his gun directly at Kinky.

“Mabel, watch out!” Sly shouted.

Mabel lifted herself up and dropped an elbow onto Kinky’s nose, most definitely breaking it and exploding a cascade of blood from the trapezist’s nostrils. Kinky fell limp and Mabel stood, breathing heavily, and grinned at Sly with one eye closed. She looked at Curtis who was still focused on Curly and spotted two more people standing behind Curtis. Wavy and Twirly had made their way to Rene and Rudy and picked up the ex-rangers’ revolvers and aimed at Curtis.

“Curtis!” Mabel cried out before Wavy and Twirly fired the guns.

Two bullets from Wavy’s gun hit Curtis’s back, but the two from Rudy’s gun zipped past the outlaw. Mabel felt a scratch on her cheek as one bullet whizzed just below her ear, nicking her and drawing blood from her face. She blinked and almost didn’t feel the second shot until she felt blood pour onto her waistband. She looked down and placed her hands over her stomach. When she pulled them away and looked down, they were completely red along with the fabric of her shirt around her waist. The pain finally flooded through her gut, then the rest of her body. She breathed heavily and looked at Curtis wincing in misery.

“Ow…” she whispered and fell to her hands and knees.

Sly leaned and aimed around Curtis to fire a shot at Wavy and landed one in her stomach, too. Curtis turned and fired a shot at Twirly, and the two remaining circus members fell to the ground but weren’t ready to give up just yet.

“Mabel!” Curtis yelled, feeling immense pain from his back, and rushed to the girl who was now on her side and clutching her stomach. He knelt beside her and tried to pry her arms away from her stomach so he could examine the wound. The pain in his back was minimal in his mind, though he was bleeding profusely and needed to be patched up soon.

With a whinny like a roaring machine, Esprit, no longer roped to the cart, burst from the entrance and raced over to Curtis and Mabel, thrusting sand all over with her heavy galloping. She knelt in front of Curtis and Mabel just as Wavy and Twirly started firing again, but their bullets couldn’t penetrate Esprit’s steel hide. Sly turned and ran for the exit before bullets started firing in his direction, but Wavy and Twirly soon ran out of ammo leaving the inside of the tent dead quiet. Curtis didn’t process the fact that Esprit jumped to their rescue and instead focused on Mabel.

“Let me see, let me see,” Curtis said to the frantic girl and finally moved her arms up so he could look at the wound. He untucked Mabel’s shirt and pressed against her belly, and his hands immediately turned entirely red. Blood squeezed out from around the bullet with every press but receded when left alone. “You’ll be okay, kid. Doesn’t look that deep. Keep pressure on it best you can until we get help. Let’s go.”

Esprit stood beside Curtis and Mabel and escorted them out, blocking the circus performers’ view, though they were all worrying about their own wounds by then.

“Okay, let’s be quick,” Sly said frantically while he got Firefly ready to run. The adrenaline coursing through his veins lessened the pain in his side and leg for the time being.

Curtis helped Mabel walk to the cart.

“Sly,” Curtis commanded, “dress Mabel’s wound. I’ll finish getting’ the horses ready.”

Sly nodded and brought Mabel to the back of the cart and retrieved the first aid kit. Gauze, tweezers, alcohol, and stitches.

“Just look at me, hey,” Sly whispered attempting to make eye contact as he examined the wound and did what he could to patch it up. He never was any good with stitches, but he did enough.

“Don’t scare the poor girl,” Curtis said from up front, tying his scarf around his torso to stop the bleeding as best he could. He didn’t have time to think about it before, but was thankful that the bullets didn’t contact his spine. “You sound like she’s ‘bout to die. She’ll be fine.”

“Has he said sorry yet?” Sly asked Mabel, quietly, trying to make a joke. “For getting you shot?”

Mabel, concentrating on her breathing with closed eyes, shook her sweaty head.

“Breathe with your chest, not your stomach,” Sly said. “You know he never wanted you to get hurt. Me neither. I know you want to be helpful, but this is why we’ve always told you to stay back.” He chuckled. “Knowing you though, this won’t stop you from jumping in to help again.”

Mabel managed to crack a slight smile between breaths.

Curtis finished strapping Esprit to the cart again, then noticed two people lying on the ground around the other side of the cart. Topsy and Turvy both had large bumps on their heads and were out cold. Esprit huffed and shook her head in excitement. Curtis laughed and when Sly asked what was so funny for Curtis to laugh at a time like this, he shrugged it off.

“All done,” Sly said and put Mabel’s bloodied shirt back down and helped her slowly sit up on the bench. He put away the kit after wrapping his leg in gauze and taping a patch to his side and went to the front of the cart where Curtis wearily met him.

“We’ll need to take care of ourselves as soon as possible,” Sly said. “But we should get going first.”

“Hold on…” Curtis said and walked toward the tent.

“What are you doing?” Sly asked, worried.

“Bring the cart ‘round back!” Curtis shouted and ran around the side of the tent. With tensions lowering, Curtis’s back pain was coming in intense waves, but he was still too determined to feel the full effects of his wounds just yet.

When Sly managed to lead both horses and the cart by himself around to the backside of the tent, he saw several wagons and crates that made up the traveling circus’s caravan pulled by mules. He saw Curtis standing over someone on the ground just outside the tent’s back exit. Curly was lying on his stomach and looking up at Curtis, pleading with him.

“Whatever you want, just take it! I don’t need yer damn horse!” Curly shouted.

“We don’t want none o’ yer trash,” Curtis said and spit on the ground.

“Just go, then!” Curly cried. “Or if you’re gonna kill me, just do it!”

Curtis’s gun was already pointed at Curly. Sly let go of the horses’ reins and rushed over to Curtis and Curly. The ringleader looked so sad now. Like a completely different man than the one who so cheerfully lead the circus. Sly took out one of his own guns and pointed it at Curly, too.

Curly groaned. “Now the outlaw wannabe’s here again…”

“Wait a minute,” Sly said quietly and knelt to Curly’s face. He reached forward and grabbed the now obviously fake mustache that was falling off Curly’s face. Sly ripped it off and tossed it in the sand. “You’re Carter Pearson.” Sly took the bounty pamphlet out of his pocket and flipped through the pages. “Really wish they made these alphabetical… Here! He’s wanted for 32 gold.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow at that.

“Maybe we’ll just take you in,” Sly said to Curly, pointing his gun at him again. “Or we can kill you first. You’re wanted alive ordead Frankly, either is fine by me.

“I was countin’ yer bullets, Sly,” Curly said. “You shot six times from both.”

Sly aimed at the sand and fired a seventh shot from one of his revolvers.

“Seven-shot revolvers, asshole,” Sly said. “Besides, you didn’t think we’d reload once we got our cart?” He shot two more times into the sand. “Eight, nine. Get my point?”

“Alright, Sly,” Curtis said. “That’s enough. Ammo’s expensive.”

Sly stood, and Rene and Rudy appeared from the tent’s exit. Sly withdrew his second revolver and held both at his fellow ex-rangers.

“Go back inside,” Curtis said.

Rene and Rudy raised their hands.

“Listen,” Rene said. “Curly just wanted yer horse. We weren’t even gonna kill ya, er turn you in.”

Rudy nodded.

“Look at you two,” Sly said.

Rene’s mustache was gone, and Rudy’s was also falling off.

“You quit bein’ rangers altogether when the Band of Lovers disbanded?”

Rene scoffed.

“Better than what they’d do if we stayed,” Rudy said. “Can’t imagine what Armani’s goin’ through right now on trial. No doubt they’re beatin’ ‘er up on the side.”

“But why the circus?” Sly asked.

Rudy and Rene shrugged.

“Easy get away, I guess,” Rene said. “It’s fun. Besides, we knew someone once who became an outlaw rather than stay in exile sanctioned by the Government.”

Sly smirked.

A deep groaning roar came from behind the group. Curtis whipped around and pointed his gun at a cart covered with a tarp.

“Ah, shoot,” Cutis said. “Y’all got the lion in there?”

“Glad he wasn’t part of the fight,” Sly mumbled.

“Better not be animal abusers, too,” Curtis said angrily.

“No, no,” Rene said. “You’d be surprised. Wavy takes real good care of it. Treats it like her kid. The mules, too.”

“Hmph,” Curtis huffed, then turned his attention—and his revolver—back to Curly. “That just leaves you, then.” He spit again. “Not even worth it.”

Curly opened his mouth to speak but Curtis shoved his boot between Curly’s jaws and kicked hard. Curly fell limp, lying face-down in the sand. Rene and Rudy kept their hands in the air and Sly pointed his revolvers at them until they retreated back to the cart.

“Okay, let’s be quick now,” Sly said again. Curtis hopped in the driver’s seat of the wagon and whipped Esprit to move. Sly followed beside the cart on Firefly. The trio stopped for camp only once the tent was out sight. No fire was lit that night.

***

Truth tossed a few logs on the fire Promise constructed in the desert. The cart Truth had been lugging from city to city was fully restocked in Far Reach with food and camping supplies, among other things, much to the residents’ dismay. Promise sat by the fire, eating canned beans and dried meat.

“Let’s reexamine that,” Truth said and sat down with food for himself.

“You know what we saw,” Promise said. The two of them thought back to earlier that night when they witnessed the moments leading up to the fight in the tent. “Dawn used his spell, but it was different. It seemed to catch everyone ‘cept Armani’s folks.”

“But his spell can only be used on one person,” Truth argued.

“We don’t know jack ‘bout spells, dude. Shit can change.”

“If that’s true, though…”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a moment, then Promise spoke again.

“Means his bounty will get higher.”

Truth chuckled. “Right. Let’s report to Angel Eyes as soon as we git to Dry Creek.” He sighed and laid back to look at the stars, having finished his meal. “We got a long way to go.”

“Yeah…” Promise groaned.

Click here for a map of the journey so far

The sharp needle led a fine, black thread sleekly through skin and fat to complete the crisscross pattern which Sly pulled tight to close and knot the second gap in Curtis’s back left from their battle with Curly’s Crazy Carnival Crew. A small, silver tin reflected the light from their campfire and held the two bloodied bullets, disfigured and burnt, that had been lodged in Curtis’s back.

Mabel was asleep in her bedroll under their canopy, lying on her back to not disturb the stitches in her stomach. After patching up Curtis, Sly dealt with his own side and leg. He had wrapped his belt around his leg as a makeshift tourniquet to stop the bleeding, and held a clump of dirty and bloodied shirts to his hip to keep that wound from getting worse. Though the bleeding had stopped, he delayed taking the bullets out until he was ready to stitch, knowing such an intrusion would start the bleeding again. Curtis helped with the application of alcohol and retrieval of more thread.  They each taped soft cotton patches over their stitches to protect them from coming undone and prepared to sleep.

Curtis lay down in the tent and Sly stayed outside for a bit longer, watching the stars.

The next morning, the trio rose early to get a head start at reaching Thorntree. As far as they were concerned, Truth and Promise were still after them and could strike again at any moment. While Curtis and the others were sure the White Snakes knew they were headed to Thorntree, they hoped the large city could hide them just long enough to resupply and possibly trick Truth and Promise into thinking they left sooner than they really planned to. There was also the possibility of meeting up with Minutes ‘til Midnight again if they were still in town when the trio got there.

“Sly,” Mabel said from the cart, “my stitches feel like they’re coming out already.”

Sly frowned and said, “Let’s stop for a few minutes and I’ll redo them.”

“I’ll do ‘em this time,” Curtis said. “You don’t have enough experience dressin’ bullet wounds.”

“Yeah, I guess I haven’t been shot enough,” Sly teased.

“I hope I’m never shot again,” Mabel mumbled wearily.

“Yeah, uh…” Curtis began. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Mabel shrugged and wiped sweat from under her hat. “What’s done is done,” she said then forced a smile in his direction.

“Sly, we got anymore o’ those cotton pads?” Curtis asked while threading the needle through Mabel’s skin. She winced at the pricks this time without the pain of her fresh wound to mask the lesser pain from the needle. She changed into a new shirt before going to bed the night before, but now the new one had a little bit of blood on it, as well. “We need’a teach you how to stitch up a cut,” Curtis said to Mabel.

“I think we have another button-up you can use for now,” Sly said and handed Curtis the last cotton patch.

Curtis pulled the thread tightly to properly mend the hold in Mabel’s stomach and firmly taped the cotton patch over the stitches.

“So, are we gonna talk about what happened last night?” Mabel asked. “Not about the fight; nobody’s surprised we got ourselves into that. But Curtis, you used yer spell.”

“Mhm,” Curtis grumbled, not understanding.

Sly sat in the sand and waited for more of an explanation.

Mabel continued, “I think you meant to aim it at Curly, but it looked like it impacted everyone else, too. Didn’t y’all see?”

Sly rubbed his chin and remembered the moment of calmness before he fired at Rene Giles. “Yeah,” he said quietly, then again louder. “I hadn’t thought about it then, but I did notice everyone stop for a second.”

“Crinkly let go of me,” Mabel said, “and Kinky didn’t do nothin’ ‘til a second later.”

Curtis tried to recall the moment.

“It’s a lil’ fuzzy fer me,” Curtis said. “I remember usin’ my spell on Curly and suddenly I got real tired like I’d tried usin’ it multiple times before the cooldown period was up.”

“I didn’t know you could do it on multiple people at once,” Sly said.

“Me neither,” Curtis said quietly, pondering the idea and trying to clarify the memory in his head.

“I swear I saw it,” Mabel said.

Sly agreed with a nod.

“Killjoy could use her spell on more than one person at once,” Mabel said, “and she got super tired when she did, too.”

“There haven’t been many reports of charm-style spells that can be used on multiple people,” Sly said. “Not since I was a ranger, at least. They’re rare and considered very powerful by the Government. If word gets out, your bounty is going to skyrocket again.”

“He’ll be leavin’ you in the dust, Sly,” Mabel joked.

Curtis smirked and stood.

“Think you could do it again?” Sly asked.

“No idea,” Curtis said. “I didn’t mean to do it last night.”

“You can practice on Sly and me!” Mabel said enthusiastically. “You gotta master it!”

Curtis chuckled. “It’s not quite that easy, but I appreciate the thought.”

“I agree,” Sly said. “That would be extremely useful to master.”

Once the trio was back on their way, Mabel leaned back on the driver’s bench of the cart with her hat low to cover her eyes from the early morning sun while Curtis steered Esprit.

“How ya feelin’?” Curtis asked her. “Any better ‘bout goin’ to Thorntree?”

Mabel shrugged and lifted her hat slightly to look at Curtis. “Like I said, what’s done is done. We need to go there for clues about Midnight; we’ve already made up our minds.”

Curtis nodded and looked ahead.

“Just don’t expect me to show ya around,” Mabel said and nudged Curtis with her elbow.

Just a few miles to the north, Thorntree rose from the horizon. The sun in the east peaked over the valley’s wall and lit the desert sands, beginning their daily roast. Mabel swallowed her spit, leaving her mouth as dry as the sand, and stared ahead at the silhouette of her hometown.

***

Thorntree was a recently wealthy city with most of its modern infrastructure having sprouted in the last decade. What was once a surprisingly poor locale despite neighboring the Big City was now a prospering city of its own, proud of its growth and its new status as a thriving economic center with a very low percentage of unemployed and homeless residents. Mabel looked at the city she once knew. It was bigger than before. She recognized some of the buildings on the southern edge of town, but in the distance, she could see towering structures of stone and steel with large windows and luminous signs which were unfamiliar to her. This wasn’t the Thorntree she knew as a young child; this was the new and improved Thorntree, complete with flashing stop lights, neon signs, and main roads tiled with stone, abundant housing and triple the population of seven years ago. This Thorntree was rich and well-fed, and this Thorntree did not fear the Government or the rangers. This was Lester Langley’s Thorntree.

Mabel focused on her breathing as she watched the road ahead and was startled when she felt something heavy weigh down her shoulders. She looked up at Curtis on her left who draped his arm over her shoulders and patted her arm. He looked straight ahead, but she thought she saw a slight grin on his face. Mabel smiled and leaned against Curtis’s side.

“This place is real different,” she said.

“Yeah, well, lots can happen in seven years,” Curtis said.

“Heck, a lot can happen in a month,” Mabel joked.

Curtis chuckled.

Mabel sat up with her face alight. “Hey! That bookshop’s still here,” she said excitedly. “Mama used to git our bedtime stories from there… And the bakery! The lady runnin’ it used to flirt with daddy, but he was always clueless,” she laughed. “Or maybe he shrugged it off ‘cause momma was standin’ next to ‘im.”

“This must be the old town section,” Curtis said. “Lots o’ larger cities have old towns. Sly! You ever come ‘ere before bein’ sent t’ Sunnyville?”

“Briefly,” Sly said as he strode closer to the cart on Firefly. “None of that stuff was here back then.” He pointed ahead to the larger buildings and modern roads. “I stayed here for a night or two around when—. Well, right when the reforms and economic shift were just starting.”

Mabel nodded gently and her smile faded as the three of them approached the proper city.

“Listen,” Curtis said. “You don’t have to go sleuthin’ ‘bout Midnight if ya don’t wanna. We’ll find a hotel and you can hang out there ‘til later.”

Mabel shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll come with you. I wanna help.”

Curtis nodded.

***

Sly led the others to a hotel-stable-combo nestled between the old town and new city. The building had three stories—certainly not the tallest building by far—and offered most modern amenities that Thorntree possessed: air conditioning, plentiful water and plumbing, electric lights and stoves, refrigeration, radios, and more. The roomy lobby was buzzing with guests checking in and out, socializing in the common areas, businessmen and women speed-walking through. The trio wandered and found the front desk, but Sly stopped the group before getting too close.

“Oh no,” he said quietly. “Dawn, look.” Sly pointed to the wall behind the long desk where various pictures and portraits were displayed, including updated wanted posters for Curtis and Sly.

“Damn,” Curtis whispered. “Think there’s a smaller place ‘round here that won’t have posters?”

“I don’t know. We are pretty close to the Big City. I’m sure just about everywhere people frequent is going to have wanted posters.”

Curtis and Sly found a few chairs facing away from the rest of the lobby and sat to consider their options.

“Guys,” Mabel said. “Don’t worry. Look, they don’t have a poster of me up there.”

Curtis and Sly looked. She was right.

“By now, people know that whoever attacked the Band of Lovers in Yellowtusk were two men with a young girl, but they never specified who the young girl was. Shoot, I don’t think they ever said y’all’s names either. Why don’t I go over there and git the rooms? Nothin’ too suspicious ‘bout that, right?”

Curtis and Sly considered the option and agreed after a few minutes of deliberation.

“Don’t you fret,” Mabel said, taking Sly’s coin purse. “You two just focus on staying unrecognizable to the rest of the guests. Keep yer hats pulled over those ugly mugs!”

Sly frowned slightly at the playful insult and Curtis scoffed.

Mabel strolled over to the front desk and stood in the short line. Three receptionists scribbled away in their logbooks and clacked the buttons on their cash registers.

“Next,” one man behind the long desk called and drew the attention of the couple standing in front of Mabel in line. She waited patiently to be called over to the next available receptionist, and after a few short minutes a woman called Mabel to the desk.

“Hi,” Mabel said. “I’m with my parents, but they’re so exhausted from the trip. There’s three of us total.”

The receptionist smiled and began writing in her logbook. At the other side of the room, Curtis and Sly discussed their plan for the day.

“Don’t make it too hard for her to be here,” Sly said. “I can tell she’s still uncomfortable. Just try to avoid places that might trigger any unhappy memories. You guys should probably stick to the old town, though.”

“I know,” Curtis said. “I already told ‘er she doesn’t have to come with us, but she insisted.”

Sly gave a brief chuckle. “She might be too stubborn for her own good.”

“You’re just noticin’ that?”

At the desk, the receptionist asked, “Would you like the stable staff to service yer horses? That includes feed and water, cleanin’ the pen, groomin’, an’ a complementary wash fer up to three coaches.”

“No, we got it, thanks,” Mabel answered. “We don’t need any o’ that.”

Sly looked around the room to make sure nobody had spotted them, then turned back to Curtis.

“I’m going to gather some supplies for her surprise,” Sly said. “You just need to keep Mabel out of the room for a few hours. If I have time after setting up, I’ll see what I can find out about Midnight.”

Curtis nodded.

“I don’t know how to feel,” Curtis groaned. “Even after all this time searchin’, we still know jack squat about where Midnight could be or what’s become of ‘im. Nobody we talk to has any concrete information.”

“It makes sense,” Sly said. “Even Armani hadn’t heard from him in a long time. You think she’d have known something more if he really loved her. I’m sure he’s put a lot of effort into staying hidden from the Government. Anybody who’s seen him has probably lived most of a decade since then.

Curtis sighed.

“How many room keys would you like?” the receptionist asked with a smile.

“Three, please,” Mabel said. “You can put it all under my dad’s name—Connor. We’ll pay in cash.”

“We can’t give up,” Sly said. “It’s your catchphrase, right? You don’t give up.”

“My catchphrase?” Curtis said with a puzzled look.

Sly snickered. “Yeah, it’s what you usually say when using your spell. ‘I won’t give up so easily,’ or something like that.”

“Huh, yeah I guess so,” Curtis said and grinned.

“Don’t tell me that isn’t on purpose.”

Curtis shrugged and held back a chuckle.

“Oh, come on,” Sly laughed quietly and swatted the air.

Mabel rejoined the two men and handed them each a room key.

“Here ya go,” she said. “I got us a two-room suite on the third floor. The main room has two beds and the smaller one has one.”

“Uh, what?” Curtis said as Mabel handed back Sly’s coin purse.

Sly checked how much money remained in the purse.

“I figured it’d be cheaper than gettin’ three separate rooms again,” Mabel said.

“No, I don’t think it is,” Curtis said and looked at Sly who held a measly two silver and four pennies in his hand.

“We have more money in the cart,” Mabel defended.

“Not much more,” Curtis groaned.

“It’s fine,” Sly said with a fake smile.

“It comes with free breakfast and unlimited hot water,” Mabel added. “Plus, a complementary wash fer up to three coaches… which I opted out of.”

“That likely lessened the cost, at least,” Sly squeaked.

Mabel sat down and sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “I got us two nights here. Wasn’t sure how long y’all wanted to stay. Or how long we’d be able to.”

“It’s fine,” Curtis said. “We can always git more money somehow.”

“I’ll go stable the horses and cart,” Mabel said. “I’ll meet y’all upstairs in twenty minutes.”

“Let’s go get our stuff,” Sly said to Curtis and the three exited the lobby to retrieve the cart.

The three of them quickly settled into their suite and met in the main room before heading out to make their rounds of questioning around the city.

“Be extra, extra careful,” Sly said. “Avoid places that have our faces plastered on the walls.”

“You too,” Mabel said.

“We’ll meet back here fer dinner,” Curtis said. “Don’t git into trouble before then.”

“So, we can git into trouble after?” Mabel joked.

Curtis rolled his eyes and gave Mabel an unamused look but couldn’t hold back a slight grin.

The trio stepped back outside, and the sun was just reaching the middle of the sky. Sly parted from Curtis and Mabel to ask around the newer sections of the city while Curtis and Mabel aimed for the older portion.

“Just tell me if we’re headed anywhere you’d rather not revisit,” Curtis said.

“Okay,” Mabel said quietly.

Curtis and Mabel were extra careful as promised. Mabel usually entered an establishment prior to Curtis to make sure there were no wanted posters, and if there were they would avoid the place altogether. It pained Curtis that primary centers for socialization like bars, restaurants, and recreation centers were out of the question since most of them pinned wanted posters at their entrances to help keep out the undesirables, but most outdoor terraces and parks were free of outlaw portraiture.

Meanwhile, Sly also did his best to avoid anywhere with his face in the window while trying to gather supplies for the surprise he and Curtis planned for Mabel. Luckily convenience stores and corner markets didn’t stock wanted posters for the most part. Curtis was right when he said that their budget was wearing thin, so he had to be smart with his purchases. He dug into the pouches of coins the trio kept in their cart and piled everything together. He wasn’t sure exactly how much Curtis was carrying, but it couldn’t have been much. He used their time in Tangate to estimate how much they would need to survive another two weeks and subtracted that from the pile. What he was left with was the money he considered to be fluid and could therefore be used to purchase supplies for the surprise.

Sly made several trips to and from the hotel, lugging armfuls of party supplies each time and carefully tracking his funds. He picked up banners, streamers, candles, and baubles, along with small desserts and snacks and string letters. He tried to find a piñata shaped like the number 15, but all he found was 12.

I can turn that upside down, he thought to himself and brought the piñata to the hotel.

The last thing on the list was the big cake. He strolled along a street lined with bakeries, wondering what flavor Mabel would like most. Vanilla, chocolate, ice cream, cookies and cream, lemon, butter, simple birthday cake; the possibilities seemed endless.

“Which do you recommend?” he asked the plump man behind the counter of a small, family-owned shop.

“Ice cream is always a favorite,” the man said. “And nobody can deny that vanilla is tried and true. She’ll be 15, you said, right?”

Sly nodded quickly.

“Well, we do actually have something that could work real well.”

The plump man guided Sly to the end of the counter where a white and purple, flowery cake was displayed.

“This is lavender flavor,” he explained. “Might sound weird, but it’s truly delicious! And there’s an old proverb that says lavender is good luck. Someone at that age could probably use all they can get, ha!”

“No kidding,” Sly said and reached into his coin purse.

“That’ll be 32 dimes and four pennies,” the plump man said with a smile.

Sly shook the coin purse to find his last alloy coin, but all that fell into his palm were two silver pieces. Confused, Sly shook the pouch more and tried to look inside.

“No,” he groaned. “Oh, man.” He closed the coins in his hand and raised his fist to his forehead.

The plump man looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Sly said. “I must’ve mistaken one of my silver coins for an al. I don’t have enough.”

The plump man frowned. “Sorry, mister. If it was only a few pennies, I wouldn’t mind, but I can’t let go of a whole ten-and-some dimes. I’m sure the cake’ll still be here if you come back, though.”

Sly thanked the plump man for his time and—somewhat embarrassed—exited the shop. He stood outside the shop for a moment and twisted his back, releasing a few popsfrom his spine. He sighed.

I could probably get away with taking one silver from the remaining stock, Sly thought.

He started to walk back down the tiled road toward the hotel when the hairs on his neck stood straight and he glanced to his right. In the corner of his eye, he spotted someone running. When Sly looked over, the person stopped and threw something at Sly. Sly tried to move out of the way, but suddenly felt stiff in place. He couldn’t move. He looked at the object flying at him and realized it was…

Bread? Sly thought, then closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The loaf smacked him square in the nose, poking his face with its uneven crust, then fell to the ground.

Sly opened his eyes and could feel the red mark left on his nose. He heard laughter and finally felt free to move again. The person who threw the bread walked over and Sly could see now that it was Rowan White, aka Killjoy, carrying a basket of groceries. Behind him, he heard more laughter and turned to see James Knox, aka Trapper, walking over to meet him, as well.

“Oh, hey,” Sly said, beyond confused, but happy to see that it was just Minutes ‘til Midnight playing a prank. “What was that for?”

Rowan, still laughing, rested a hand on Trapper’s shoulder for support. “We just thought it’d be funny,” she said in her usual tired voice.

“And it was,” Trapper said, calming down from his laughter.

“So, you decided to waste a whole loaf?” Sly asked, laughing a bit, too, though still not understanding the joke.

“A little dirt’s good for the immune system,” Rowan said and picked the loaf up from the ground and placed it in her basket.

“We weren’t sure if you guys would still be here when we arrived,” Sly said.

“Took ya long enough,” Trapper said.

“I assume the rest of you are hanging out somewhere.”

“Around, yeah,” Rowan said. “Smiley and Doc’re back at our rental, and Virginia and Mina’re out shoppin’, too.”

“Have you found out anything useful about Midnight here?” Sly asked.

Rowan nodded. “A li’l bit. Speakin’ o’ which, where’s Dawn and the little one?”

“They’re scouting for information on Midnight right now actually.”

“What were you doin’ at a bakery?” Trapper asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Sly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re actually hoping to throw a surprise birthday party for Mabel and—”

“A birthday!” Rowan shouted. “Ain’t that sweet. Is it today?”

“The surprise will be tonight, yeah,” Sly said. “She doesn’t remember her actual birthday, so I figured we could just pick a new day for her. And she grew up in this city, so I didn’t see any better place to do it.”

“That’s adorable,” Rowan said. “You git a cake yet?”

“No,” Sly said. “That’s what I came here to—”

“Leave it to us!” Rowan shouted. “You know ‘er better, so maybe you should pick the flavor, but let us pay!”

“That would be great,” Sly said and lit up. “I was actually just looking at a lavender cake in that little mom n’ pop shop right there.”

“Lavender?” Trapper questioned. “Weird.”

“It’s good luck,” Sly said.

“Really?”

“According to an old proverb, apparently.”

“Perfect,” Rowan said. “What else? You got decorations an’ such?”

“Yeah, I got it all.”

“Guess we’ll just have to git some presents, then! Trapper, why don’t you run an’ tell Smiley an’ Doc. Hopefully Virginia and Mina’ll be back soon, too.”

“I really appreciate the help,” Sly said after Trapper raced off and Rowan followed Sly to the small bake shop. “You really didn’t have to offer to buy the cake.”

“Please, it’s the least we can do. You know Doc would’a done it, anyway, the generous man ‘e is. He’ll be more than happy to pay fer gifts.”

***

Curtis and Mabel had been trying their father-daughter duo trick, but to no avail. Mabel had thought about using her homeless girl routine but didn’t want to risk being seen by anyone who would recognize her. Curtis could tell she didn’t want to be sent on her own, too. All day, he saw her feigning happiness and comfort, but her eyes never displayed genuine joy. Her quietude while Curtis spoke with the locals was certainly more than enough to lay out her true feelings.

“Oh, boy,” Curtis sighed, then continued in a sarcastic tone, “Here I was thinkin’ gatherin’ info ‘bout Midnight in the town’s he’s been to would be easier, but everyone closer to the Big City is just stubborn.”

Mabel nodded and looked ahead.

“Say, wanna take a break an’ grab a sweet treat?” Curtis asked. “We can find an ice cream shop er somethin’.”

Mabel mumbled something quietly that Curtis couldn’t understand.

Curtis waited a moment to see if Mabel would repeat herself or say something else and when she didn’t, he continued, “I don’t have a ton on me, but we can manage.” Curtis shook his pockets and jingled the few coins he carried. “Hopefully Sly hasn’t spent all our funds,” he joked, then stopped, realizing he shouldn’t say more about what Sly might be doing.

Mabel didn’t respond, continuing to walk where Curtis led her and sport a neutral expression to hide the fear and heartache.

“Mabel,” Curtis said, sighing and clearing his throat. “Why don’t you go back to the hotel? I think I need’a explore some more an’ I don’t wanna bring ya anywhere that’ll hurt too much.”

Mabel stopped walking and bent her knees so her butt almost touched the ground like a vertical fetal pose. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.

Curtis glanced around, not wanting to draw attention to themselves, then looked down at Mabel.

“I gotta…” Mabel mumbled.

“Hm?” Curtis asked, then knelt beside the girl. “What?”

Mabel exhaled. “I need to know,” she said clearly and turned her head to look at Curtis. Curtis looked at her somewhat confused, but slowly figured out what she meant.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Their formation changed with Curtis following Mabel now as she walked hurriedly through the streets of the old town. After she found the bakery and bookshop again, she made sharper turns and moved more quickly. Curtis chased her down the unpaved streets and alleys until finally entering a residential area. The houses were small, but homely, with wooden decks and brick chimneys. Some had new paneling on the walls, and it was obvious that some had been completely renovated. Mabel raced passed the houses, hardly taking the time to ensure that Curtis was following her until she stopped abruptly at a main road that transitioned the neighborhood into the business district on the other side.

Mabel stood silent, staring across the street with no expression at all. Curtis slowed once he caught up and stood next to Mabel to look across the street. Mabel didn’t speak for a couple minutes, so Curtis patted her shoulder to get her attention.

“So, is this what you were lookin’ for?” he asked.

Mabel shook her head. “This neighborhood used to extend farther this way. My house would’ve been right over there.” She pointed across the street to a new bank that had just been constructed five years ago according to the date etched into the stone steps leading to the entrance.

“I see,” Curtis said quietly.

Mabel looked at the bank for a minute more, then turned to face Curtis and giggled.

“What, now?” Curtis asked, confused why she was laughing.

“I don’t know what I expected,” she said, staring down at her feet. She then leaned in and wrapped her arms around Curtis’s waist and rested her head on his chest.

Curtis inhaled, and raised his arms slightly, but didn’t hug Mabel back.

“You and Sly,” Mabel said, then paused before continuing, “are the only family I need.”

Curtis slowly placed his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her against himself. All was quiet except a soft sniffling coming from Mabel.

“I think this was the best outcome,” she whimpered.

Curtis held her quietly until she stopped crying.

“Let’s go,” Mabel said quietly and began to walk back in the direction they came.

Curtis looked at the bank one more time, then walked quickly to catch up to Mabel. The two of them walked silently for a few minutes before Curtis suggested breaking for a snack again.

“Yeah,” Mabel agreed. “Ice cream?” 

Mabel looked ahead at the ice cream shop and spotted a familiar pair of faces carrying bags of groceries.

“Mina! Virginia!” Mabel shouted down the road.

Mina and Virginia turned swiftly and spotted Mabel running toward them with a large grin, then Curtis walking steadily after her.

The strongwoman placed her bags on the ground and knelt to meet Mabel. Mabel lunged and grappled onto Mina’s arm and was hoisted in the air like when they first met. Virginia laughed and smiled at Curtis when he caught up at his own nonchalant pace.

“Yo,” Curtis said with a raised hand in greeting.

“Howdy,” Virginia replied. “Took y’all long enough to catch up.”

“We ran into some trouble in Far Reach and in the desert between there and here.”

“You certainly know how to git into trouble,” Virginia giggled.

Curtis gave a sarcastic nod.

“Y’all just git in?”

“This mornin’. Got a hotel an’ dropped off the cart. Where’s the rest o’ yer group?”

“Around. You busy? Why don’tcha swing by our place? We’re rentin’ a cottage on the edge o’ town fer the week. Not too far from ‘ere.”

Curtis watched Mabel swing on Mina’s arm, smiling and laughing. It was almost like she’d forgotten all her sadness already.

“That’d be nice,” Curtis said. “Y’all gettin’ ice cream?”

***

Doc and Smiley sat at the small table between the kitchen and living room near the front of the cottage playing cards. The blinds around the house were shut making the inside dim even with the electric lamps. The front door’s nob jiggled and twisted and in walked Mina and Virginia with armfuls of groceries and supplies.

“Hey, hey,” Doc said and stood, placing his card face down on the tabletop.

Smiley nodded to the women in greeting, his large, toothy smile displaying his tiny teeth.

Right behind Mina and Virginia, Mabel and Curtis strolled in through the door.

“Hey!” Doc said, more enthusiastically. “Well, well, looky here. Was wonderin’ when you’d show up.”

“Coincidence, really,” Curtis said. “We just happened to run into these two,” and pointed at Mina and Virginia.

“And we’re all the better for it. Hey, take a seat on the sofa and I’ll fetch some cold drinks.”

Doc walked around the table toward the kitchen and Smiley touched his wrist. Doc paused and looked at Smiley who sat still in his chair. Doc turned and examined his cards on the table, then peered at Smiley who began to sweat, not meeting Doc’s eyes.

“Did you look at my cards?” Doc interrogated. “Don’t use yer spell to cheat! C’mon Smiley.”

“This place is real charmin’,” Mabel said, gazing around and taking in the charm of the space. “Quite hospitable.”

The large living room at the front of the house contained two sofas and a reclinable chair with a large, circular rug in the middle. On the rug was a low table between the couches and an electric chandelier dimly lighting the middle of the room. The small dining table was behind the couches, behind which was one entrance to the kitchen. A small hall led beside the kitchen to another part of the house and around the other side of the kitchen where there was another open doorway. A staircase to the left behind the living room led upstairs.

“It belongs to a nice elderly couple,” Virginia said. “Very sweet folks.”

Doc reentered the room holding a tray of iced tea, saying, “Thank goodness that heatwave’s finally passed.”

“Yeah, we took care o’ that,” Curtis said, sitting next to Mabel on one sofa.

“No kiddin’?” Doc asked, setting the tray on the short table between the couches.

“A guy named Frankie Lin. He had a spell called Natural Kinesis that let ‘im do all sorts o’ stuff with the ground, water, and air.”

“Must’a been one hell of a brawl.”

“You could say that.”

Doc took several heavy gulps of his tea, then said, “I know you’re wantin’ t’ask, so I’ll just tell ya; we got a nice update about our good ol’ pal Midnight whilst here.”

Curtis sat forward on the sofa in attention.

“First, let me preface with this,” Doc said. “Did we ever tell ya about Virginia’s relationship with Midnight?”

Curtis shook his head and Virginia stepped forward.

“This might be a shock, then,” she said. “I actually knew Midnight; before he was called that, too. Before ‘e killed Irving Craig. Y’might even say we were good friends.”

Curtis leaned forward until he almost fell off the cushions; his eyes were wide, and his gaze focused. “Hold on,” he said. “You’re sayin—”

“Yep,” Virginia said and smirked. “I know who Midnight is.”

“And you never— well— okay, so, who is ‘e?”

“His name’s Silas Navarro. At least, that was his name.”

Curtis thought deeply about the name, trying to come up with any memory that hinted at it being hidden among his interactions with Midnight, but he couldn’t.

“That name doesn’t mean anythin’ to me,” Curtis said.

“I wouldn’t expect it to,” Virginia said with a shrug. “Doc didn’t recognize it either.”

Doc sat at the table and shook his head.

“The man has too many names,” Virginia continued. “Nobody knows jack about ‘im because he uses a different name everywhere he goes. And we think his spell might have somethin’ to do with it.”

Virginia gestured to Smiley.

Smiley waved to the group then offered, “Hello again.”

Mabel smiled and waved back, but Curtis sat looking over the back of the sofa for what Smiley had to say.

“I believe the reason why there are such varying descriptions of Midnight isn’t because he’s actually a gang,” Smiley said, “or just because people are unobservant and idiotic—which they are. I suggest that Midnight’s spell—or at least one of his spells—lets him change his appearance in the eyes of others, or perhaps it creates an illusion that he may use to disguise himself.”

Mabel leaned over to Mina who was lying in the reclinable chair next to the sofa Mabel and Curtis sat on.

“Where the restroom?” Mabel asked.

Mina whispered directions and Mabel quietly stood and excused herself from the room.

“I have a few questions about all that,” Curtis interjected. “How do you know Silas Navarro was his real name?”

“Because I knew ‘im before he had reason to change it,” Virginia said. “He was an outlaw when we met, of course, but not a hotshot like ‘e is now.”

“So, when’d ya meet?”

“I was lots younger back then, obviously; helpin’ run a family friend’s shop up north in the Dry Prairie where I grew up. He was just another customer, at first, but soon became a regular. Not sure if he had a spell yet er not, but he and that family friend I mentioned got real close and we all grew to consider him part of our joint families. One day, ‘bout a year after he first showed up in our shop, news broke out that he was an outlaw. Even so, my family friend considered ‘im one of his best friends, so we sheltered ‘im in our shop fer a bit. Then, one day, he left without sayin’ a word and we never saw ‘im again.”

“So the Government knew Silar Navarro back then,” Curtis said, “yet no one recognize ‘im when ‘e killed Irving Craig?”

“That’s the thing; the Government knows Craig’s killer had a spell, so obviously Midnight got his before then and whatever it lets ‘im do, allowed him to disguise himself so nobody knew his real identity.”

“And no one got suspicious that Navarro went missing before that?”

“I’on’t know,” Virginia admitted, “but if the Government does suspect Midnight to be Silar Navarro, there’d be no point in posting his name or face on the posters because those seem to change frequently.”

“And that just makes it all the more difficult to track ‘im down,” Curtis said. “You said ‘one of his spells’,” Curtis said and turned back to Smiley. “You think he might have multiple? Is that possible?”

“Well,” Virginia said before Smiley could answer and stepped closer to the middle of the living room. “There’s someone we want to introduce you to later.”

“When is later?” Curtis asked.

“We can take you there tonight,” Doc said. “It’s just across town.”

Curtis nodded and contemplated the idea.

“I definitely wanna go as soon as possible, but…” Curtis noticed, then, that Mabel was absent and took the opportunity to mention the surprise party.

“Well, ain’t that adorable,” Doc said.

“We can go in the morning so you can spend the night with her and Sly,” Virginia suggested.

“Do we get to attend this party?” Mina asked with a raised hand. “Today’s my cheat day and cake sounds real good right now.”

“Did you git a cake already?” Doc asked.

“Sly’s getting’ everythin’ ready,” Curtis said.

“We’ll bring some gifts,” Virginia said.

“Speakin’ of which,” Curtis said. “I’ve been with Mabel all day. I haven’t had time to buy somethin’.”

“We can keep ‘er distracted,” Doc said. “Just say you need to run to the store real quick and we’ll keep ‘er here.”

Curtis was hesitant to agree, still distrusting Minutes ‘til Midnight some.

“Then tomorrow, we’ll git down to business ‘bout Midnight,” Doc said. “When I was livin’ with ‘im, which was after Virginia’s encounters, he still wasn’t called Midnight. With mine and Virginia’s knowledge combined, we’ve been able to patch up lots o’ holes in Midnight’s identity an’ figure out where he is now. Plus, our new friend’s information confirmed many of our suspicions. No doubt, we’ll have plenty to talk about tomorrow.”

Curtis nodded again, then turned toward the door as the nob twisted and the door flew open.

Trapper burst into the cottage and spread his arms wide.

“Listen up, y’all!” he shouted. “Sly and Dawn’re throwin’ a surprise birthday party fer Mabel and we’re all invited!”

Doc, Virginia, Smiley, and Mina stared at Trapper in silence. Trapper’s eyes floated around the room and caught sight of Curtis still on the sofa. His mirth began to fade as he focused his gaze on the back of the room at Mabel standing in the hall, staring out at the rest of the group. Everyone else then turned and looked back at Mabel whose bright red face showed an expression of embarrassed shock.

“Oh, man…” Trapper said and covered his mouth with his hands.

Mabel stood, her mouth ajar and her eyes beginning to water. “You’re throwin’ a party… fer me?”

“C’mon, Trapper!” Doc snapped, followed by a flurry of boos and moans from the rest of Minutes ‘til Midnight.

“I didn’t know they were here!” Trapper defended.

“Mabel,” Curtis called and drew the girl’s attention away from the rest of the room. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I hope this doesn’t ruin it.”

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Mabel said quietly.

After a moment, Curtis said, “I’ll tell ya what not to say; don’t let Sly know that you know. He’s puttin’ everythin together back at the suite, so when we get there, just pretend to be surprised. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mabel said with a chuckled and an excited grin.

“In fact,” Curtis said, “I’m gonna go check on Sly right now. I’ll come back fer ya in an hour, then we’ll hang here while Minutes ‘til Midnight meets Sly to pretend to surprise ya. Deal?”

Mabel nodded and smiled wide. “Deal.”

Near the end of the hour, Curtis stopped by the hotel suite to drop the gift he purchased for Mabel. Sly was in the room hanging the string-letters and piñata. Various other decorations were already strewn about the main room and Sly wiped his forehead when Curtis walked in.

“Looks good,” Curtis said and placed the paper bag his gift was in on the living room table.

“It’s taken all day,” Sly said. “Sorry, I haven’t done anything to help with information gathering.”

“All’s good, Sly,” Curtis said.

“What did you get?”

“A nice big history book,” Curtis said and took the thick textbook from the bag. “Figured she likes learnin’ stuff, so, this ought’a keep ‘er busy a while.”

“Where’s Mabel now?”

“I left ‘er at a library across town. Gonna grab ‘er now. Everythin’ almost ready?”

“Almost. Minutes ‘til Midnight are coming. I ran into a couple of them earlier today. Killjoy bought that cake.”

“That so? Why’s the cake purple?”

“It’s lavender flavored,” Sly chuckled.

“That good luck er somethin’?”

“Apparently.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Curtis said, making a concerned face and looking at the vibrant cake. “I’ll go git ‘er now.”

“Sounds good. Maybe, keep her busy for just a little longer to make sure everyone has time to show up.”

“Roger that,” Curtis said with a thumbs up.

***

“I can’t believe I’m gettin’ a birthday party,” Mabel said softly. The rest of Minutes ‘til Midnight gathered in the living room to wait for Curtis. “It’s… so nice.”

“That Dawn and Sly’re nice fellas, huh?” Virginia said. “We suspected as such when we first met.”

“I’m so excited fer the gifts,” Trapper said. “Oh, they’re gonna be great!”

“Don’t spoil that part, too,” Rowan said, tiredly, and the rest of the group chuckled.

Curtis entered through the front door a moment later and announced that everything was almost ready.

“That’s our cue,” Virginia said. “You two can wait here fer another hour so we ‘ave time t’ git presents and make it to the hotel.”

Curtis and Mabel nodded.

The cottage was silent once Minutes ‘til Midnight left. Curtis took a seat on the couch next to Mabel and put his arms over the top of the cushions. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, then sighed.

“Why?” Mabel whimpered, to which Curtis opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why throw a party fer me?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I mean, what’s the reason yer doin’ it?”

“Well, we know you don’t remember yer exact birthday, so Sly figured we’d pick a new one fer ya and celebrate. ‘Specially after all you’ve been through.”

Mabel focused her gaze into her lap where her hands rested. She balled her hands into fists, pinching the fabric of her pants and turning her knuckles white.

“But why?” Mabel asked again. “I don’t deserve it. I haven’t done anythin’ to deserve it.”

Curtis put one knee on the sofa and turned his whole body to face Mabel.

“You think you need’a earn yer birthday?” he asked.

Mabel was silent for a moment, then said, “I haven’t been much use to y’all since I tagged along. All I’ve done is run an’ hide when the goin’ gits tough, an’ cause you all to waste time lookin’ fer me when I left camp. I’m no good at fightin’, I’m no good at navigatin’, an’ I’m just one more stubborn mouth to feed. I don’t deserve a celebration.”

“Mabel,” Curtis said, then fell quiet. He looked at the girl. Her face was red behind the cascade of dark hair that fell over her face from leaning forward in her frustration. Her hands were bone white from clenching her fists, and tears which she was obviously trying to hold back dripped from the tip of her nose.

“We’ve been over this,” Curtis said. “Those things don’t matter. You think I took you in thinkin’ you’d be useful? Which you are, but I never expected anythin’ from ya. I just felt bad, and I was a little impressed by yer stubbornness. But Sly and I keep ya around fer a reason. You do help us. Yer homeless girl act is real nice when tryin’ to get what we want from people, and you’re kinda funny.”

Mabel slowly looked at Curtis and brushed her hair back with her hand.

“A little,” Curtis added and smirked. “And I don’t think Sly and I would git along nearly as well if you weren’t around. So, don’t sweat a birthday You do deserve it, if not fer helpin’ us, then fer survivin’ in this damned world fer as long as ya have.”

“Thanks,” Mabel said, “fer all this.”

“Sure,” Curtis said. “It’s no big deal.”

“Maybe not, but it means a lot to me. Especially since I know how busy we are, stayin’ on the run an’ tryin’ to find Midnight. I’m very grateful you found the time to do this fer me.”

Curtis chuckled. “It was Sly’s idea, really.”

Mabel smiled. “Well, thank you anyway fer everythin’ else you’ve done fer me. I wouldn’t be here without ya. Literally,” she said with a laugh.

“I might say the same to you. That’s what family’s for.” Curtis winked as he said this, and tipped his hat in her direction.

***

Sly shooshed everyone in the suite when he heard footsteps approaching in the hall. The whole, large room was silent. The door handle slowly turned and in walked Mabel and Curtis. Trapper and Mina, who were standing on either side of the door, threw confetti and streamers all over Mabel when she entered and the whole room rumbled with a “Happy birthday!”

Mabel, wide-eyed and mouth agape, looked around the suite at all the decorations, desserts, gifts, and people gathered to celebrate her new birthday. Even though the surprise had been spoiled, intense glee and excitement welled in her stomach, and she felt as though she would faint. Her smile was so wide her cheeks consumed half her vision, and tears blurred the rest.

She couldn’t stop the flood of tears as she held her hands over her mouth and laughed and cried simultaneously, as others in the room offered a resounding “Aww.” Sly was the first to approach her with arms wide.

Mabel stepped forward to meet the hug and continued bawling. Sly knelt and wrapped his arms around her waist to hoist her into the air in a great embrace.

“Ow,” Mabel whimpered. “My bandages.”

“Sorry!” Sly yelped and lowered her to the ground where she wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeves and thanked everyone for attending.

“Come on,” Virginia cheered, “Let’s git this party started!”

Everyone gathered in the main room to enjoy the sweets and snacks and piled all the presents on the living room table for Mable to open, but before she opened the gifts, Sly strung up the piñata on the ceiling fan —accompanied by joking remarks and teasing—and handed Mabel a short, wooden stick.

“One…two…three!” everyone yelled before Mabel pummeled the upside down 12 until it cracked and soon burst into a flurry of confetti.

Doc turned to Sly and asked, “No candy?”

Sly shrugged. “The store was out.”

“You might wanna open this one first, then,” Rowan said, holding up a colorful paper bag with tissue paper overflowing from the top.

Mabel opened all the presents one after the other, collecting cute new clothing, boots, and a hat, candy and treats of all sorts, the history textbook Curtis bought, —which Mabel was sure to express extra appreciation for—a toy six-shooter, a book on wildlife in the Valley Strip, and other various bobs and knickknacks.

Trapper handed Mabel another large bag with tissue paper erupting from the top and urged her to open it quickly. Inside were two decks of playing cards, a small sac of six-sided dice, and small booklet for notes or drawings, and a thin magazine fille with boards for tic-tac-toe, connect four, and various other pencil games.

“Sly said y’all didn’t have any games to play on the road,” Trapper explained, “And I couldn’t let that be the case. What did y’all even do at night before bed?”

“Helluva lot o’ nothin’,” Mabel said which rose laughter from her guests.

Sly carried in a large box from the other room labeled with her name on it. Mabel ripped the wrapping paper apart like a feral animal and tore the box open.

“A whip?” she asked Sly.

“It’s real. We picked it up in Yellowtusk the second time around,” he said. “You said you wanted to help in fights more, so…”

“Awesome!” she shouted and unraveled the long cord to examine the intricate braiding of the leather. She playfully snapped it a few times in the boys’ directions, then removed the book on Worbus Timbly’s playscripts and immediately flipped through the pages.

“We have to reenact some of the scenes!” she said to Sly and Curtis who had drastically different reactions to the idea.

Finally, Mabel took out a ticket about the size of half a sheet of paper, then looked at Sly inquisitively.

“It’s a receipt for a portrait by a local artist who does caricatures,” Sly said, then shyly, he added, “I figured maybe the three of us could get one all together.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Mabel shouted.

“He gave me a discount when I told him it was for your birthday, too.”

Mabel thanked everyone once again for attending and for the wonderful presents before Sly disappeared into the other room again to retrieve another surprise.

“So, uh, how old’re you again?” Mina asked while scarfing down a cupcake in one monstrous bite.

“Fifteen,” Mabel said. “By my count, anyway. I haven’t had a real birthday in a long time, so, I might be off a bit.”

“Well, we’ll make sure you never miss one again,” Virginia said. “At least as long as we’re all together.”

The crowd then turned to the door to the other room when Sly loudly commenced a song for Mabel’s birthday and carried in the large, purple cake. The rest of the group joined in singing while Sly lit the candles atop the cake and Mabel nearly cried again.

“Make a wish,” Sly said enthusiastically.

Mabel took a deep breath in, closed her eyes, and after a few seconds of silence, blew as hard as she could to extinguish all of the candles in one breath which was followed by claps and cheers around the room.

“Why is it purple?” Mabel asked.

“Please,” Sly laughed. “Just eat it.”

The room was collectively shocked at the delightfully light and sugary flavor that consumed their tastebuds with each bite.

The celebration continued late into the evening, and it was well past moon’s peak before Minutes ‘til Midnight departed and thanked Mabel for letting them join her party. As the last one out and with a dip of his hat, Doc shut the front door behind him, leaving Curtis, Sly, and Mabel to enjoy the quiet atmosphere they so often took for granted on the road.

“I hope you enjoyed the party, Mabel,” Sly said and slouched on one of the sofas in the main room of their suite. “I’m pooped. You have no idea how long it took to set everything up. I am not looking forward to cleanup tomorrow.”

“I can’t express how much fun this was,” Mabel said. “Thank you, really.” She stood and walked over to hug Sly again before announcing that she was going to shower and go to bed. “I’m pooped, too. If every birthday is like this from now, I don’t know how many more I can take.”

“Oh, you’ll only have more energy each year for a while,” Sly said and waved a hand in the air.

Mabel giggled and walked toward the single-bed room.

“Good night,” she said, to which Sly and Curtis replied with the same.

Sly sighed. “I think that was good,” he said and leaned his head back again, shutting his eyes.

Curtis nodded. “You did a good thing, Sly.”

“We did a good thing. Might’ve been my idea, but I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Curtis huffed. “Sure, sure.” He sat forward a bit and stretched his arms. “Didn’t even matter that she knew ‘bout the surprise before comin’.”

“What?” Sly shouted, raising his head and straightening his back. “Really?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Curtis said. “We ran into Minutes ‘til Midnight, too, while out and we went back to the cottage they’re rentin’ ‘cross town. Trapper burst in shortly after announcin’ the party to everyone else, includin’ Mabel.”

“Oh, man,” Sly groaned and slumped in the sofa cushions. “Well, at least she still had fun.”

“I think the tears were real,” Curtis said.

“Oh, yeah,” Sly chuckled. “What a sweet kid.”

“Yeah,” Curtis said quietly, almost just to himself. “She deserves it.”

“Mhm,” Sly mumbled as he sunk farther into the cushions and relaxed his muscles.

Curtis sat for a moment on the other sofa and thought of all the joy and excitement from that night.

“I should thank ya, too, Sly,” he said. “I think without you er Mabel, I never would’a made it this far. An’ I sure as hell wouldn’t’ve been able to afford relaxing nights like these. I’ll rarely admit it, but you two changed my life fer the better. So, thanks.”

Sly stayed silent for a moment before releasing a steady, low snore from deep in his esophagus.

Curtis gasped, then grinned and sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. Mabel peaked through the bathroom door after having snuck across the room in a towel to shower and heard Curtis’s speech. She smiled for the umpteenth time that evening, then shut the door.

Click here for a map of the journey so far.

Aubrey “Faith” Hatfield sat in a booth inside Rusty’s Wagon Wheel Bar, a popular destination for Thorntree locals late in the afternoon during the week. The old town cantina displayed a couple dozen wanted posters at the front of their shop, warning anyone pictured on one of them that they were not safe to enter unnoticed, and that there would be consequences for violators.

A long, shining cutlass lay on the ground next to the booth, sheathed in a leather scabbard with silver buckles to hold it snug in place. A wide-brimmed sunhat cast a long shadow over Faith’s bleach-blonde hair and fair skin. Her clothes were unusual for a ranger on duty: a puffy white linen blouse and colorful flowing skirt with a long, heavy trench coat. Her ranger armband was tied around her waist under the coat, hidden from view unless looking from the front. Her heeled boots tapped the floor impatiently as she scanned the menu for an appealing meal and hearty drink. A large, wooden boomerang rested against the wall on the inner side of the bench across from her.

Near the entrance, Markley “Virtue” Cross stood on a little step stool so she could reach the telephone hanging on the wall next to the host counter. She wore standard ranger garb consisting of a clean, decorated poncho over a light tunic and slim, dark pants. Her boots and cattleman hat were both made from stained leather and shined like freshly polished pearls.

“Yes, please,” she said into the phone. Her voice was soft and high-pitched. “We’ll wait fer his call. Thank you!”

She hung up the phone and skipped over to the booth to sit across the table from Faith.

“What’d Angel Eyes say?” Faith asked without looking up from the menu.

“Couldn’t git to the phone,” Virtue replied. “I told Miss Peach to have him call us back.”

“Damn him,” Faith said while scratching her forehead under her hat. “Makin’ ‘is secretary take calls from ‘is own damn team,” she scoffed sarcastically.

“He’s just busy. All the doyens are.” 

Faith grumbled and continued to scan the menu when a waitress appeared beside their table.

“What can I git fer you fine ladies?” the waitress asked.

“Oh!” Virtue squeaked. “Lemme look real quick.”

“Kids menu’s on the back, sweetie,” the waitress said while clicking her chewing gum.

“Hmph, I’m not a kid,” Virtue giggled. “I’m a ranger, actually.”

“Oh, pardon me!” the waitress said. “You’re just so tiny, I thought you was a lil’ mite.”

Virtue’s brow furrowed and the vein on her forehead bulged like it was about to burst. She stood on her bench and waved her fists at the waitress, but Faith reacted swiftly and stood, leaning across the table to hold Virtue back.

“You callin’ me short?” Virtue yelled and continued to wave her fists like a child in a tantrum. “I’ll have you know I graduated top o’ my class with excellent marks! Size ain’t what matters, it’s about the skills I have!”

The waitress cowered back as Virtue continued to scream. Faith smiled wide so her eyes were almost shut and held her arms out to hold Virtue, speaking calmly over the shouting and squirming.

“I’ll have the porkchop special with a tall one,” she said with a chuckle. “And just a basket o’ tenders an’ fries fer her. An’ some juice.”

***

Virtue had calmed down shortly after the waitress walked away with their orders and now leaned on the bench with a full stomach and a satisfied grin on her face. Her empty chicken tender basket rested on the table next to Faith’s greasy plate with only bits of fat left over. Three 20-ounce glasses stood at the edge of Faith’s side of the table with foam gathering at their bottoms and condensation pooling around their bases. Faith gulped down a fourth glass before slamming it on the table and releasing a satisfied sigh.

“Wooh,” Faith said. “Talk about a good meal and refreshin’ drinks.”

Virtue sat up and leaned against the table, and replied, “You shouldn’t be drinkin’ right now. I thought you said you were gonna slow it down.”

“You were supposed t’ be my accountability,” Faith retorted, then burped.

Virtue plugged her nose, scrunched her face, and said, “That’s hard to do when you don’t listen to a thing I say. Plus, you know I can’t physicallystop you from doin’ anythin’.”

“Which is why I love ya so much, doll.”

“Ya need a doctor.”

“Ain’t no doctor gonna tell me what I don’t already know. Yeah, I drink a lot and I’m happier when I have a li’l buzz, but it’s not like I’m an alcoholic.”

“Pretty sure ya just described bein’ an alcoholic,” Virtus said under her breath.

Faith held a finger to her lips with her eyes half shut and shushed Virtue, then smiled widely. “Lean over an’ gimme a kiss,” she said with puckered lips.

“Not right now!” Virtue yelled. “No way. Not after that burp I smelled earlier! Drink my water. We gotta go soon.” Virtue pushed her water glass toward Faith.

One of the hosts from the front of the establishment approached the rangers’ table.

“Mister Vinson is on the line fer y’all,” he said.

Virtue hopped down from her bench and followed the host to the front counter and picked up the corded phone that rested on the countertop. When she returned to the table, Faith’s hat was on the floor and she rested her head on the cool, stained wood tabletop, her hot breath fogging up the shine with each exhale. She looked at Virtue whose shoulders lined up with the height of the table.

“Angel Eyes says not to pursue Dawn and Sly just yet,” Virtue said.

“Huh?” Faith burped out and closed her eyes.

“Sounds like ‘e recognizes that other group they met up with. Says they ain’t outlaws but they know Dawn somehow. I told ‘im it looks like Dawn and Sly might be here a while, so Angel Eyes said he’ll be comin’ here today. Didn’t expect that.” Virtue again nudged her glass of water—which her partner had yet to drink from—closer to Faith, with greater emphasis this time.

Faith sat up and rolled her neck, then grabbed the glass of water and chugged it down. She slammed the glass on the table and sighed, less satisfied this time, then slid along her bench to stand. Virtue grabbed the large boomerang on her bench and also stood. The boomerang stood at three feet tall, almost as tall as she. Faith stretched her arms and bent forward, perfectly balanced, to touch her toes and retrieve her cutlass. When she stood straight, her face became even paler, and she rested her hand on the table for support.

Virtue walked past her toward the door, saying, “Let’s just keep an eye on the outlaws fer now.” She walked a few feet away before turning around and pointing at Faith. “And don’t throw up.”

Faith gulped down whatever had started rising in her throat and breathed heavily. “A little late on that command,” she said shakily.

Virtue sighed. “At least make it to the street,” she said and took one of Faith’s arms over her shoulders.

“I’m just kiddin’,” Faith said. “I just needed an excuse t’ hold ya.”

Virtue scoffed and tried not to grin, then leaned heavily against Faith as they walked.

***

Curtis awoke on the sofa when Sly lightly kicked his foot.

“We need to clean up,” Sly said and yawned, then dragged his feet over toward the entrance to their suite where thousands of tiny paper shreds littered the anteroom.

Curtis, still waking up, looked around at the mess from the party and yawned. He stood and stretched, then walked to the dining table where dirty plates and half-full cups were lazily stacked. He began to pick up the stack of plates, then looked at Sly.

“We gotta go meet Minutes ‘til Midnight again today,” Curtis said. “They mentioned they found someone who knew a good bit ‘bout Midnight.”

Sly nodded. “You go. Take Mabel. I’ll clean.”

Curtis brought the plates to the suite’s mini-kitchen and placed them in the sink. “I want you there, too,” Curtis said. “I have a feelin’ that someone who knows lots ‘bout Midnight probly work fer the Government. If so, yer insight’ll be useful.”

Sly nodded.

“And I don’t wanna have to repeat everythin’ to ya later,” Curtis joked

***

Curtis knocked on the front door of Minutes ‘til Midnight’s cottage. A few moments later, a delighted Doc opened the door.

“Ya ready?” he asked the trio to which they all nodded tersely.

Doc, Mina, Trapper, and Smiley led Curtis, Sly, and Mabel into the heart of Thorntree proper. Curtis and Sly wore their hats low and their scarves high to avoid being recognized as they passed popular local hangouts and the several lieutenants walking up and down the busy streets. During their whole visit so far, Curtis, Sly, and Mabel hadn’t spotted a single ranger which was odd for how much wandering they had been doing. Instead of feeling relief, Curtis and Sly knew that likely meant the White Snakes were hot on their trail and the locally stationed rangers were told to stay out of the way.

Minutes ‘til Midnight led the trio down a couple of short alleys and to a worn wooden door with darkened windows beside it and a faded sign nailed above.

“How d’ya find these abandoned places everywhere?” Mabel asked.

“Ya git good at it after a while,” Doc chuckled and leaned against the door while turning the handle to push it open with some force.

Like the place Curtis, Sly, and Mabel first met Minutes ‘til Midnight, not much was inside the rundown establishment. Dusty, broken furniture and boxes barely filled the dank space. Before the group entered too far into the room, Doc held a finger over his mouth and grinned. Mina walked to the back of the room and pushed aside a hefty wardrobe on wheels to reveal a door on the wall behind it. She waved everyone else over to the door, then opened it and led the group down a short, dark staircase that turned around halfway and led to another door at the bottom. Behind this one was a well-lit room about 15 by 15 feet with an electric chandelier in the middle of the smooth, gray ceiling. Wood planks for the floor helped warm the otherwise eerie atmosphere.

In the corner left of the door along the same wall were a half dozen wooden chairs placed in no particular order. One chair rested in the middle of the room and faced away from the door with a woman sitting in it. Her bun of white hair told Curtis, Sly, and Mabel that she was old and her tan skin signaled she was probably from the Valley Strip. Her hands were bound behind the back of the chair and her ankles were tied tightly to the chair’s front legs. A silky black handkerchief was tied over her eyes as a blindfold. The woman sat completely still except for a slight turn of her head when the group entered the room.

Smiley was the first to approach the woman and touched her shoulder. He walked around the front of the woman and leaned over her, smiling.

“Hello again, Mrs. Glass,” Smiley said.

The woman revealed a brief smile before letting her face fall neutral again.

Doc walked around front of the woman holding one of the chairs from the corner and sat down facing the woman. “Howdy, Erin,” Doc said.

“Hello, Doc,” the woman replied dryly.

“How’re ya doin’?”

“As well as I may under the circumstances.”

“Feel free to just listen,” Trapper whispered to Curtis, Sly, and Mabel before taking another chair from the corner and sitting to the right of Erin.

“This could be worse fer ya,” Doc said.

“You haven’t harmed me yet,” Erin said. “I suppose I should be grateful for that.” Like Armani, despite Erin’s skin, when she spoke, her accent was steady and unremarkable, like that of someone from the Ridge.

By now Mina had made her way over and leaned against the wall in front of Erin while Smiley continued to stand off to one side. Mabel, with the whip Sly gifted her clipped to her waistband, tip-toed to the corner to take a seat in one of the chairs already there; Sly followed, remaining as quiet as he could, but Curtis remained standing near the door.

“I wanna continue our conversation from the other day,” Doc said, looking at the blindfolded woman whose head faced straight ahead, unmoving.

Erin swallowed and said, “Of course you do. That’s why we’re here.”

“That’s right,” Doc chuckled... “quite intuitive you are, Erin.” Doc leaned back in his chair, lifting the two front legs off the ground. “Ya recognize Smiley’s voice. I brought with me today Mercy an’ Trapper, as well. Ya remember them from a week ago, right? No Killjoy er Gorgeous this time.”

Curtis and the others didn’t recognize the name Gorgeous, but realized Doc must have been referring to Virginia, but didn’t want to use her real name.

“Has it only been a week?” Erin said. “It’s felt much longer.”

“We won’t keep ya forever,” Doc said. “There’s just a lil’ more we want from ya. Course, we’re open to hear anythin’ ya wanna say; don’t let us cut ya short just because we wanna let ya go.”

Erin lowered her head slightly and smiled with a soft snort.

“Since Mercy and Trapper’ve missed a couple sessions,” Doc continued, “why don’t we recap a bit of what we’ve discussed?”

“What would you like me to repeat?”

“Let’s start with the Mystic Program,” Doc said, leaning forward in his chair. “Give me the why, the when, the how.”

“That can be quite a lot,” Erin chuckled.

“Bullet points’ll do.”

Erin sighed, annoyingly. “Well, as I told you the other day, the Mystic Program began about 12 years ago in early 1770 as a response to a sudden spike in the number of outlaws with spells. Before then, it was known that a handful of individuals had spells, but it was quite rare, and those people often kept their spells hidden. Outlaws, however, used their spells to commit crimes, so it became obvious who had one in those cases. In 1766, the number of outlaws using spells tripled from the year before, and the next year, there were even more. The Government hatched a plan to study spells as closely as possible, which it had already been trying to do, but now had increased funding thanks to the support of wealthy benefactors who also saw the rise in spellcasters as a threat to the public.

“When the Government arrested an outlaw with a spell, the outlaw wouldn’t be put in jail, but instead be sent to a special facility constructed specifically for the purpose of detaining spellcasters and subjecting them to experiments. If a child was discovered to possess a spell, as rare as that was, the parents were to inform the Government immediately and surrender the child to the responding officials. Anyone found harboring a spellcaster, child or adult, would be punished accordingly. A couple years of intense study later, the Mystic Program was established in hopes of being able to artificially create spells using the knowledge the Government accumulated from taking apart every piece of a spellcaster to discover the source of their powers.”

“An’ you said they found that source,” Doc said.

Erin nodded. “But I don’t know what it was. What it is. Those who hold that knowledge are few and far between. I’d even venture to suggest that no oneholds that knowledge anymore; that it died off with old Mystic Program administrators.” She chuckled. “Older than me, that is. After all, now that the Government can produce at least somewhat effective bindings, the need for the root science is far less prominent.”

“Surely someone has to know,” Trapper blurted out.

“I don’t know,” Erin responded, still facing forward blankly behind the blindfold. “But the mystics know enough to be able to replicate whatever chemistry—or magic—is required to mutate a normal person into a spellcaster with 62% effectiveness.”

Doc lifted himself slightly, moved his chair closer to Erin, then leaned forward again, saying, “Y’also mentioned that there were experiments to test the possibility of one person possessin’ multiple spells.”

“Correct,” Erin said. “It was a few years ago now, but at the time, the mystics, the people who administered the bindings, were confident they could splice multiple bindings together. There were trials, but no successful fusions.”

Trapper shifted uneasily in his seat and Doc adjusted himself in his. Mabel slouched forward in her chair and listened intently while Smiley stood with his toothy grin forcing his eyes partly shut, absorbing everything the retired Mystic Program administrator spouted. Curtis stood in silence, absolutely still, with arms crossed, and listened.

“Repeat what you said ‘bout Midnight the other day,” Doc commanded.

Erin smirked and lowered her head slightly.

“The mysterious and infamous cowboy clothed in all black,” she said, holding her smirk. “I’m guessing the most significant thing you want to hear again is this: Midnight had a spell long before the spike in spellcasting outlaws. From what we can tell, he’s one of the rare few to be born with a spell, so you can see why he’s a top priority for the Government.”

“An’ that’s why the Government’s discretely lookin’ fer people connected to ‘im,” Doc said.

“Precisely,” Erin said, lifting her head and smiling wider. “The Government has kept tabs on everyone Midnight befriended over the past decade.”

“So, the Government knows who Midnight is?” Trapper asked.

“Silas Navarro,” Erin said proudly. “They’d kept an eye on him for a long time before then, but lost track of him about fifteen years ago. Irving Craig’s murder was a major hint, though, and they were able to track him down pretty easily after such a major display of violence.”

“An’ they’ve kept a watchful eye ever since,” Doc said.

Erin nodded again. “We know just about every person Midnight has bonded with in the slightest since he was in the prime of his life. Everyone he called friend, foe, or family. Every. Single. One.” Erin emphasized these words and spoke them deliberately so the others would pay attention.

A heavy silence fell over the room. Doc swallowed his spit and clasped his eyes.

“Of course,” Erin continued, “there’s really only one that the Government gives a damn about at the moment.”

Curtis’s boots shook the floorboards as he stomped over to Erin, chair in his hands, and plopped down to her left, facing her.

“Oh, there was still someone over there?” Erin said with a chuckle.

Curtis leaned forward in his chair and took a deep breath.

“And what might I call you?” Erin said, still looking relatively straight ahead toward Doc.

“Call me Arthur,” Curtis said.

Erin slowly turned her head to face Curtis. Her smile was wide enough to push her cheeks under her blindfold, but she showed no teeth. Up close now, Curtis could see the deep wrinkles lining her smile and the skin folds sagging along her neck. He could see the greasy, wiry, white hair that hadn’t been washed in days and her frail hands that might as well have belonged to a skeleton already buried six feet under. Her fingernails were gnarly and filthy, and her skin was dry and flaky, and dirty. He just now took note of her clothing which could have been seen on any traditional housewife in the Valley Strip. She wore a long, stiff dress with an apron draped around her waist as if she had been swept away in the middle of doing chores.

Her stockings followed her entire legs up into her dress, and her shoes, which he saw now had been kicked off, were simple, leather gardening boots. She looked like anyone’s grandmother living on a ranch somewhere outside the Big City. Was she really someone once intimately involved in the harsh experiments and studies related to governmental spell research? Curtis eyed her up and down and took another deep breath.

“I got a few questions o’ my own,” Curtis said, “if you’d be so obliged.”

“Gladly,” Erin answered.

“First off, I wanna know if the Government still keeps spellcasters in that same facility ya mentioned.”

“They do not,” Erin quickly replied. Her smile and willingness to share information so loosely was suspicious, but there was no inflection of deception in her voice. Her tone was confident and true. “There are multiple places spellcasters are sent now. Some go straight to a specially designed prison for spellcasters, others are sent to research facilities sprinkled around the Big City and the Dry Prairie. I’ve been retired for some time now. I’m not as familiar with the new system,” Erin continued.

“M’kay,” Curtis said and adjusted himself in his uncomfortable wooden chair. “When it comes to the Mystic Program, how does one become a mystic?”

“I don’t know the process. I just worked with them once they’d been hired.”

“Do mystics have spells?”

“They didn’t when I was working. Who can say for sure now?”

“Once the Government figured out artificial spells, how’d they choose who to give ‘em to?”

Erin continued to stare in Curtis’s direction with the blindfold concealing her eyes, and in Curtis’s opinion, concealing the truth.

“Again, I wasn’t a part of that process, but from I could tell, it was mostly kids pulled from poor towns; people that the public wouldn’t notice—or wouldn’t mind—if they went missing.”

Erin paused, giving Curtis a moment to move on to his next question, but then she spoke again.

“Of course, there are the doyens who get spells, too. Given to them once they’re promoted. None of the doyens were born with a spell.”

Curtis nodded, though Erin couldn’t see his response.

“So, if the Government can produce spells, do they control what a person’s spell does? Is it possible fer multiple people to have the same spell?”

“Multiple people with the same spell, I doubt. Bindings aren’t created with a particular spell in mind. The spell’s abilities are unknown until a binding has been successfully administered and has had time to settle. I never saw two people with the same spell for the duration of my work, and I doubt it’ll ever happen.”

“You said bindings are administered with a 62% success rate nowadays. So, who possesses the spells? Kids? Why ain’t there more rangers with spells aside from the doyens?”

“Children are the most susceptible to bindings with the rate of success in adults being much lower. I’m not sure what it is nowadays, but the primary subjects of experimentation before I retired were children. So, to answer your question, most spellcasters the Government has produced are still too young to be in the field.”

Curtis leaned back in his chair. “Most, huh?”

Erin smiled, knowing what Curtis was getting at.

Curtis exhaled and straightened out. The legs of the chair groaned with the stress of Curtis’s heavy, nervous leaning.

“Let’s talk ‘bout Midnight now,” Curtis said.

“I was wondering when you’d ask,” Erin replied.

“If the Government knows who Midnight is, why haven’t they arrested him?”

Erin’s smile faded to a slight grin. She exhaled and stretched her neck before answering, then said, “There’s a very complicated answer to that.”

“I got all day,” Curtis said sternly.

“All right,” Erin sighed. “The basic answer is it’s because of his spell, but don’t ask me what his spell is because I don’t know. The vague idea I have is that it allows him to alter his identity in some way whether by distorting his physical appearance, manipulating the perception others have of him, or altering peoples’ memories on a massive scale to always remain anonymous. All seem equally crazy yet somehow equally plausible knowing his stature in the ranking of outlaws.”

Smiley nodded, having his theories supported by an ex-Government official.

“The other thing I know is that the Government is very mysterious in its ways of governing and dictating information. Whatever the reason is that the Government wants Midnight, they would like to keep it a secret. I know that the Government wants Midnight alive, but if they posted his bounty as only alive rather than alive or dead, it would become painfully obvious that they want him—or need him—for something. That not only puts a target on their own back in the eyes of the public and the doyens for hiding their true intentions, but also gives Midnight an advantage since he would know that he wouldn’t be killed right away if discovered by authorities.

“Additionally, while the Government knows who Midnight is, they haven’t always known wherehe is, and due to his spell, they may not know what he looks like currently. Wanted posters displaying a mysterious silhouette just about guarantees that nobody will find Midnight and try to kill him for a reward, and it is at least partially truthful in providing any physical description of him the Government has.”

Curtis leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and scratched his head under his hat. He rubbed his face and ran his fingers down his stubbly cheeks and chin, then fingered his mustache. He pondered his next question and whether he should even ask.

Won’t do me any good t’ hesitate, he thought. This may be the only opportunity I git to hear this much ‘bout Midnight.

“You said of all the people Midnight’s known over the years, there’s only one the Government really cares about,” Curtis said. “Who?”

Erin smiled widely again, the dry skin of her cheeks cracking slightly. “I think you know who.”

Curtis, paused, then forced out, “Why?”

“Because he holds the key, they say.”

“What does that mean?”

“He has the answers the Government has been seeking. I know nothing more.”

“But what does that mean?” Curtis stood and moved closer to Erin. “Don’t start bein’ cryptic now, come on.” Curtis struggled to control his emotions.

Erin continued smiling, feeling Curtis’s breath on her face. “I truly don’t know.”

Curtis reached up and yanked the blindfold from her face, revealing her sparkling, youthful eyes and messing up her frizzy hair even more. Curtis saw her pupils dilate in the light, but she never squinted and peered directly back into his eyes. Trapper stood from his chair and stepped back and Smiley’s smile faded quickly. Mina stood straight, but Doc remained where he was in his chair. Sly and Mabel flinched but stayed put.

“It really is you,” Erin whispered, “isn’t it?”

“You know me?” Curtis whispered back. “Aside from the bounty on my head?”

Erin nodded.

“Why’re you tellin’ us all this? Everythin’ ‘bout the Mystic Program, Midnight, the Government; what for?”

Erin chuckled and looked down at Curtis’s lap. “This may sound silly,” she said, “but I’ve always been superstitious. It helped in my line of work, to trust my gut even when logic said everything was fine. When the fortune teller said that I would get to meet fully developed and skilled spellcasters, I couldn’t believe it. After retirement, I thought my chances of meeting many trained spellcasters were gone, reduced to mere teasing moments with doyens that amounted to nothing.”

“Fortune teller?” Curtis asked, but Erin ignored him.

“My true passion is for spells, not governmental experiments or bringing justice to outlaws. I want to know as much as possible about spells; where they come from, how their abilities are determined, why they exist. Unraveling the mystery behind what seems like magic is my sole goal in life.”

Smiley nodded in understanding.

“The fortune teller said,” Erin continued, “that I would be surrounded by spellcasters who have grown up with their spells and have mastered their abilities. No longer would I have to deal with the insufferable failures of children forced to adopt unnatural forces into their bodies. I wouldn’t need to dream of befriending doyens. I would get to witness greatness firsthand and all I would have to do is answer your questions honestly.”

Everyone in the room was on edge, prepared for any twist Erin had planned, but the woman sat completely still, turning her head to her left to face Curtis.

“I’m only 62 years old, but my time is almost up. I can smell the potential all of you have. I feel it in my bones. The fluid in my ear canals tingles just by being in your presence.”

Erin looked around at the members of Minutes ‘til Midnight, grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes sparkled as if she were holding back tears.

“I know Midnight has touched every single one of you somehow,” Erin said, her voice quivering. “I only wish that I could have stood face-to-face with him just for a moment, just to feel his power in the deepest part of my being.”

She craned her neck to face Curtis once more.

“I know you will find him,” she whispered. “But you must use your time with him well.”

Erin stared into Curtis’s eyes and for a moment, Curtis swore he could see a light shining within her eyes as if he was witnessing her vision of death. The cracks in her dry cheeks seemed to glow just before a bright flash consumed the room. Erin’s body rapidly expanded, tearing her clothing and breaking her bonds in the chair. Within a fraction of a second, Erin exploded into a blizzard of tiny, gray flecks that swirled through the air all over the room. The flecks began to settle like dust on every surface in the room, including Curtis, Sly, Mabel, and Minutes ‘til Midnight. Erin’s clothing was piled on the chair, but a few shreds that tore free during the sudden bloating fell to the ground elsewhere in the room.

The explosion was accompanied by no sound except the tearing of fabric and the thud of rope dropping to the floor around the chair as she disappeared. When everyone opened their eyes after the flash, they weren’t entirely sure what they witnessed.

“Is everyone okay?” Doc asked the room.

Curtis took deep breaths, then covered his mouth and nose with his scarf when he realized he was probably inhaling some of the tiny flecks of ash or skin still flittering in the air. Trapper and Mina coughed while Sly also covered his lower face. Mabel stood and shook her whole body in disgust at the flecks covering her hat, shoulders, and lap.

“Ew!” Mabel shouted and squirmed uncontrollably.

“Is—is she dead?” Trapper asked between coughs.

Smiley meticulously removed each fleck from his black suit one by one, tossing them into the air away from himself.

Curtis remained silent and looked at Doc who examined Erin’s clothes and the rope that bound her to the chair. He brushed away the flecks piled on the chair and ran his fingers through the tears in her long dress.

“Okay, hey,” Doc called after a minute of examining the scene and allowing everyone time to react over the dead-skin-like particles that had gotten everywhere. “We can’t say fer sure what just happened here, but we shouldn’t stay. We don’t know what this stuff is. Could be poisonous. Let’s git back to the cottage and assess from there. Havin’ Virginia an’ Rowan who can think clearly right now’ll help.”

***

Faith chugged cold, clear water from a public pump while Virtue examined the wanted posters of Curtis and Sly among others. Faith reared her head back and sighed deeply while looking up at the pale blue sky.

“Ya feel better?” Virtue asked in her sweet, ringing voice.

“Oh yeah,” Faith said. “Hydration’s the key. I could go fer another drink now.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait. We need’a scope out the old town and pinpoint where Dawn and Sly’re hangin’ out.”

“I bet there’re some good bars over there.”

“Can you focus on work fer once please?”

“I’m just messin’ with ya, doll,” Faith laughed and bent over to kiss Virtue’s rosy cheek.

Though she wasn’t in the mood for romance, Virtue couldn’t help but get up on her toes just slightly and tilt her cheek up like she always did when Faith leaned down with puckered lips. Virtue flashed a grin, then pulled Faith’s coat to follow her toward Thorntree’s old town.

***

Exiting the rundown shop, everyone brushed off the last of Erin’s remains. The group walked in silence, sickened by the dust they kicked up from the road. It settled on their boots far too similarly to Erin’s particulates; what happened to her would be hard to forget.

Doc stopped and turned around to examine the façade of the old alley store with its blackened windows and molding wooden door.

“Guess we won’t need to come back ‘ere,” he said to his companions.

“We may want to,” Smiley said, “if we determine Erin’s remains to be worth examining. Assuming they don’t disappear after some time.”

“You suspect what happened to ‘er to originate from a spell?” Mina asked.

Smiley nodded.

Doc calmly led the group out of the alley. Curtis and Sly adjusted their scarves and made sure they were free of any more gray flecks before wrapping them back around their faces. The sun hit their skin as they were pulling their scarves over their noses and lowering the brims of their hats, and Virtue looked up from the wanted posters in her hands as she walked. She and Faith paused, and the group all glanced in their direction, noticing their ranger arm bands.

For a moment, everything was still.

***

Rowan bent forward to examine a bright, rotund watermelon on display at an old town market. She followed the green stripes along its length up to the curly stem. Leaning to one side, she spotted a yellow ground spot and traced it with her finger.

Standing up right, she asked the seller, in her usual tired tone, “Are these in season?”

“As ripe as can be!” the seller answered. “That yellow spot you looked at means it’s fresh from the picking! And see these little black dots scattered about? That means it’s practically brimming with sugar! Very sweet, and a great source of hydration. And hydration is key in the desert!”

“Hm,” Rowan moaned and bent forward again to examine the watermelon. “Okay, I’ll take it.”

She walked along the market strip holding the watermelon in both arms. Fabric bags hung around her elbows and swayed with each wide step she took. She held her coin purse tight in one hand and the reins of a horse in the other with the beast slowly walking behind her. After a few more stops, she hung a couple bags on the horse’s saddle and balanced the watermelon on top, then mounted the horse and adjusted herself to get comfortable. Keeping one bag around her elbow, she held onto the watermelon between her thighs to make sure it was secure as she rode, then lifted her bag-arm to reach inside and retrieve a bottle of water before riding off.

She raised her arm high and rummaged in the bag and didn’t notice another horse speeding toward her. The rider of the other horse wore a typical wide-brimmed hat and poncho. Dark, greasy hair flowed from underneath the hat and down the back of his neck but was short along the sides. His face was hairless, and his full lips smirked as he rode past, snatching up Rowan’s coin purse from her raised hand, and continued in the opposite direction down the street. Rowan looked up at her empty hand and grasped at the air for a moment, not realizing at first what had happened.

She pulled the reins hard left to turn the horse toward the thief, following the cloud of dust gliding across the ground to the horse and its rider now several dozen yards away and gaining more distance by the second. Rowan furrowed her brow and blinked. She took her horse’s reins in both hands and made sure the watermelon was snug between her legs, then tugged the reins to turn her horse around.

“Hey,” she said angrily. “Give that back!” She sighed tiredly and squeezed the reins in her hands. “Go,” she said softly before the horse took off down the street after the thief.

The thief’s horse rushed through the crowded streets, pushing bystanders aside and raising shrieks and shouts from street goers ducking for cover. Rowan followed in his wake, apologizing nonchalantly to disturbed foot walkers. The thief’s horse hadn’t been going very fast, so Rowan was catching up quickly. The thief glanced over his shoulder and jumped slightly when he realized he was being pursued. He faced forward, clutching Rowan’s coin purse with the horse’s reins and spurred his horse to speed up.

Rowan balanced the melon with one hand in order to use the other to emphatically whip the reign against the horses side to compel it to catch the thief. She closed in on her target, then he lifted a hooked cane from his saddle. He held it out to grab onto the supports of a market stall as he rode past and yanked the supports out from the canopy, bringing the stall crashing down and spilling its contents onto the street. The stall’s collapse dominoed and brought down other stalls around it. Barrels, baskets, fruits, and splinters of wood flooded the road ahead of Rowan, so she pulled her horse’s reins to guide it down another street.

The thief looked over his shoulder and smirked, then demanded more speed from his steed. He steered his horse down a side street where he could blend back into the crowd of another main road, but Rowan burst from an alley just behind the man. Her horse’s hooves slid in the sandy alley ground, but the beast kept its balance and bolted toward the thief. The thief, still clutching the stolen purse, only smirked as his horse picked up speed again to try and lose Rowan in the busy streets of old town Thorntree.

***

With little hesitation, Faith slashed out with her cutlass, slicing through Sly’s shirt and cutting deep into his left arm before anybody in their group had time to fully turn to examine the rangers. Faith turned her blade and brought it back for another slash, but Mina reached over with her muscular hand and grabbed the blade, stopping it before it could dice Sly into pieces.

Faith furrowed her brow and gritted her teeth in a tense smirk and met Mina’s eyes.

Virtue stepped up and swung her massive boomerang like a club, but Doc and the rest of the group scrambled away from the wooden bludgeon before it could do any damage. Such a thick, heavy weapon could shatter bones with one good strike, and everyone heard the swoosh of air as the little woman used her entire body to swing it.

“Ah, don’t tell me,” Doc groaned.

Sly clutched his arm and stumbled back with the rest of the group while Mina continued to hold the blade of Faith’s cutlass.

“I gotcha, Sly,” Doc said and raised a glowing hand to Sly’s arm to mend the deep cut. His back was to the rangers so they couldn’t see the glow. “Are these gals with the White Snakes?”

“Yeah,” Sly said and winced from the pain in his arm, but Doc was able to relieve it in no time.

“It was obvious right away with their lack o’ panic an’ the way they struck in unison like a coordinated attack. These two’re in sync fer sure.”

Virtue examined the group and counted two fewer people than Angel Eyes reported. She glanced around to make sure nobody was hiding and waiting to ambush her and Faith.

Shrieks and shouts down the road announced the arrival of Rowan in her pursuit of the coin purse thief racing up the road toward her friends.

When Rowan spotted Trapper and the group, she shouted, “Stop that guy!”

Virtue whipped her eyes back to Trapper and flinched when he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, black disc with a bit of wire hanging out along its edge. Trapper held the wire and tossed the disc through the air and low to the ground. As the disc flew, the thief’s horse raced past, and the wire caught one of the horse’s ankles and the disc’s weight let is swing around and coil up like a lasso.

The horse instantly stopped moving mid-gallop. The thief continued forward, flying off the front of the saddle and tumbling onto the dirt road, dust and debris in his wake. Virtue’s eyes widened and she clenched her jaw.

He has a spell? she thought.

Faith, having noticed the horse, as well, let her eyes follow the length of her cutlass’s blade up to Mina’s hand which still held on with an iron grip.

No blood, Faith thought. Do they all have spells?

Trapper stood holding the wire and grinning.

“Nice work, Trapper!” Doc called.

Sly stood stunned at the quick reaction and skill to catch the horse while it charged at full speed.

“Even a hair-thin shadow’s enough,” Trapper said confidently.

Oh crap, Virtue thought. If all these guys have spells, this could be a real tough fight fer just me an’ Faith. Not to mention this goes totally against Angel Eyes’s orders.

The thief coughed up some sand and dust and tried to scramble to his feet, but Rowan stepped on his shoulders and punched his cheek. She pried her coin purse from his grimy fingers and shoved him to the ground with her boot. She spat at the man and kicked him once more before turning to walk away, then noticed the rest of the group’s confrontation.

“The hell’s goin’ on here?” Rowan asked.

“A lot’s happened this mornin’,” Doc said.

“Hyah!” Virtue screeched as she spun her whole body and threw the massive boomerang at Rowan. Dust from the ground kicked up as it twirled in the air toward Rowan who jumped out of the way, tumbling on the ground. The boomerang followed a U-shaped path, widely turning before hitting the buildings on the other side of the street and kicking up more dust and debris as it went. Noticeable gusts followed the boomerang and almost blew the group’s hats off when it narrowly missed them on its return trip to Virtue.

The tiny woman braced herself to catch the boomerang, raising her hands and leaning into the catch. Without the slightest skid from her boots, Virtue stopped the boomerang in its tracks with a thunderous CLAPfrom the wood hitting her hands.

“Do either o’ them even have guns?” Curtis said, adjusting his hat again and reaching for his own pistols.

Faith yanked her sword down, sliding it out from Mina’s solid hand, and thrusted it forward again to pierce Mina’s abdomen. Mina struck a pose and puffed out her chest with her arms at her hips and one leg propped up on its toes. The cutlass’s blade skidded against Mina’s rock-hard abs. Virtue recoiled and retreated from her attack after hearing the harsh screech of metal as if she had struck a boulder. She and Virtue stepped back together, eyeing the group and knowing that they couldn’t defeat them alone, nor could they effectively chase them all if they all decided to flee in different directions.

“We’re in it deep, huh, doll?” Faith said.

“We just need’a stall ‘til Angel Eyes gits here,” Virtue replied. “Shouldn’t be long.”

“I’ll rush around so we can corral ‘em,” Faith said.

Meanwhile, the thief held his hat down with both hands and watched from the ground, doing his best not to be noticed by the rangers. His horse was still frozen by Trapper’s ability, and he was pretty sure he broke a few ribs from his tumble.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Click here for a map of the journey so far.

William H. Bonney, a.k.a. Billy the Kid. Born Henry McCarty, he was first arrested at only 16 years old for theft of food and pistols from a local shop in his hometown of Mellow Downs on the Ridge. Billy worked odd jobs in various places along the Ridge but could never bring himself to settle down anywhere, perhaps because he constantly found himself in trouble for his continuous crimes.

He often tangled himself in the affairs of local teenage gangsters and would become involved in the various hoodlum acts said gangster performed such as stealing horses from deputies or vandalizing storefronts. One day, however, Billy’s damning life of petty crimes would turn even more tragic after getting into an argument with a blacksmith somewhere on the Ridge, which ended with Billy using his pistol in self-defense, or so he claims. Billy was detained, but escaped before the sheriff could arrive, stealing a horse and riding off into the sunset.

Since that day, Billy the Kid, named so for his clean-shaven face, his punk attitude, and his overall youthful appearance and demeanor, had garnered 21 murders under his name, among dozens—if not hundreds—of other acts against justice. Some viewed him as a vigilante figure fighting against the corrupt system of law enforcement in The Valley Strip; others saw him as a rambunctious rebel rightfully guilty and deserving of harsh punishment.

With a bounty of 145 gold, Billy became the youngest ever maverick at the age of 21. Even as a supporter, it would be difficult to resist the opportunity to cash in such quick wealth, but unluckily for anyone looking to track him down, Billy was a master of hiding in plain sight. His location was never evident for more than a few hours before he stealthily slipped away to continue his crime spree.

***

The thief who stole Rowan’s coin purse lay face down in the dirt, pulling his hat low over his face. He peaked out at the rangers and outlaws in a silent standoff across the street. Glancing at his horse, he saw Trapper still holding onto the wire leading to the small disc wrapped around the horse’s ankle and saw the horse still frozen mid-gallop. A little farther down the road, the thief saw Rowan’s steed, Calypso, excitedly kicking her feet on the dusty road with her golden coat shining in the midday sunlight. He could steal that one, he thought, but he would need to make it over there first. Even with tensions rising between the rangers and outlaws, he might actually be able to slip by unnoticed.

Granted, he had lost his chance to blend in with passersby since everyone around not involved in the skirmish across the street had fled already, but if the rangers and outlaws were all focused on each other, they may be distracted long enough to give him a head start on his escape. The thief tensed his muscles in preparation to sprint toward Calypso, but Virtue screeched again as she wound up her gargantuan boomerang and flung it in Rowan’s direction. She threw the boomerang lower to the ground this time—far too low for Rowan to fall prone quickly enough—and at an even greater speed than before. Rowan braced herself and jumped when the boomerang reached her, but her foot caught on the inside of the boomerang’s bend.

The weapon’s trajectory was minimally altered if at all and U-turned through the air, this time in the thief’s direction. He clutched his hat tighter and buried his face in the dirt as the boomerang passed overhead, brushing the thief’s hat, and scuffed its polish. Rowan collapsed on her hands and knees, then rolled and clutched her foot in agony. A harsh CRUNCHaccompanied the impact of the boomerang and her foot; her thin-leathered boot did little to protect her flesh and bones from the powerful bludgeon. Virtue caught the boomerang with a WHOP and quickly spun to block a fist from Mina who had rushed toward the two rangers.

“Rowan!” Doc shouted. “Sit tight, I’ll be right there!”

“Doc!” Curtis shouted as Doc ran toward Rowan on the other side of the road. “We ought’a retreat an’ regroup. We outnumber these rangers, but they’re from Angel Eyes’s group. I’m sure they’ve handled tougher dudes than us.”

Trapper turned to Curtis and yanked the wire he held, releasing the thief’s horse from his spell. The horse took a few steps at full speed before skidding to a stop and rearing up on its hind legs, furiously kicking its front legs in the air, and whinnying in fear and confusion.

The thief looked up at the sound and nearly jumped up right away once he realized his horse was free, but he remained still.

“Didn’t you an’ Sly take out over half the Band o’ Lovers at their own base, just the two o’ ya?” Trapper asked.

“Sure,” Curtis sighed, “but we didn’t fight all ‘em at the same time, an’ that group was under command o’ the youngest, and presumably least experienced doyenne in history. Plus, we got pretty lucky to be honest.”

Faith swung her cutlass up toward Mina’s arm which stuck straight out as she punched Virtue’s boomerang. The sword whooshed through the air and collided with Mina’s diamond wrist, failing again to slice through.

Faith grunted and withdrew her weapon again just as Smiley pulled out his revolver and fired a shot from behind Mina. At lightning speed, Faith lifted her cutlass just before the bullet pierced her neck. With masterful precision, the cutlass’s thin, sleek blade cut down the center of the bullet, sending the two halves around herself and into the ground. Sparks flashed for an instant followed by a ringing, bursting sound. Smiley slowly lowered his weapon in disbelief. Sly took a step forward, not understanding what he witnessed.

“The hell is that blade made of?” Curtis gasped.

“Yeah, maybe we should go,” Trapper said with his mouth agape.

Faith thrust her cutlass at Mina, but Mina side-stepped away and grabbed Faith’s outstretched arm. Faith pushed forward and used Mina’s grip as a fulcrum to swing up and lock her legs around Mina’s waist. Faith twisted herself around to Mina’s back, taking Mina’s arm with her, reversing the grip, and pulling Mina’s arm in an unnatural position. Mina reached back to pull Faith forward over her own head, but Faith flipped herself up and over, wrapping her legs around Mina’s face and bashed the top of Mina’s head with her sword’s pommel.

Mina grunted and Faith hit her head again before leaping up and kicking Mina’s face in her retreat. Mina stumbled back into the wall of the alley, then rubbed her hand over her scalp to ease the pain of thud. Meanwhile, Virtue raced toward most of the group where Curtis, Sly, Mabel, Smiley, and Trapper stood like statues, watching Faith dominate her hefty opponent. Virtue spun around and swiftly threw her boomerang at Doc.

“Watch out!” Sly shouted to Doc and Rowan as the boomerang vortexed the air into strong gusts that swept dust up from the ground in a dirty trail behind it. Doc turned his body to dodge as best he could but was too slow to avoid the boomerang entirely and took the brunt of the force to his chest. Doc clutched his body as he fell to the ground, hardly slowing the boomerang which returned to Virtue just as Sly ran at her with white knuckles raised. Virtue blocked Sly’s first punch like she had Mina’s, but Sly, towering over the tiny woman, followed up with a quick second jab to Virtue’s cheek.

Virtue recoiled, then brought her boomerang down with her before springing back up. Virtue and Sly danced fluidly and tightly around each other, Sly taking jabs any time he could and Virtue twirling her boomerang over her shoulders and under her arms to defend and attack. Virtue retreated for just a moment, allowing Sly to push forward and possibly seize the boomerang, but Virtue lured him in and swung the wooden angle around her back to Sly’s other side. Sly raised his arms in defense, but the boomerang’s force was too strong. Sly could feel his damaged wrist shatter again with the oaken bludgeon knocking him aside, sending him rolling in the dirt in pain.

Mabel shouted Sly’s name and rushed over to him, examining his arms which were already bruised a deep purple.

Virtue immediately spun around to strike Curtis who tried to aim his revolver at the little ranger but had no time to fire with her moving in so closely so quickly. Curtis focused on dodging her swings, feeling the gusts of wind as the boomerang narrowly brushed past his limbs and body.

“How can such a li’l thang handle that weapon?” Trapper said in amazement of watching Virtue’s grace in combat.

“Little?” Virtue groaned as she spun and dashed.

Virtue let the boomerang slip down through her hands and her finger tapped a small notch in the wood. At the press of the button, a short blade sprang out, running along the length of the boomerang’s interior angle. Curtis gasped and braced himself for a nasty slash when Virtue redirected her swing and threw the bladed boomerang at Trapper who threw himself to the ground to avoid the certain death the boomerang’s slashing would have subjected him to. Curtis lunged at the now disarmed Virtue, lowering himself to grapple her waist; but just as he made contact, Virtue slung Curtis over her shoulder and tossed him over herself and onto the ground.

Her boomerang returned to her, and she caught it—skillfully and with a twirling motion—with one hand before bringing the bladed edge down onto Curtis. Curtis rolled out of the way and scrambled to his feet.

This girl’s skills’re insane, Curtis thought.

Smiley stood a few yards away with his pistol still drawn, but without any clear shots on Virtue or Faith with both fighting in such close quarters.

Doc pushed against the ground and lifted himself, clutching the left side of his ribs with a glowing hand. He exhaled deeply, exhausted, then ran over to Rowan, staying crouched to try and avoid attention from the rangers.

“Come on,” Doc whispered. “Show me yer ankle.”

Rowan groaned and turned toward Doc, raising her foot to his glowing hand.

The thief tiptoed toward his horse which had wandered with Calypso to the buildings on the opposite side of the road to where the battle was raging. He rubbed his horse’s neck, urging it to stay calm and quiet, then glanced at Calypso. She was a fine, young filly with muscular legs and a fighting spirit. The thief raised an eyebrow and considered his options.

Mina used the wall for support. Her head burned with an incredible aching throb, making it difficult to focus.

“Yer spell only works in areas of dense muscle,” Faith said and readied herself for another round. “This time, I’ll just have to slice yer throat.” She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked over her shoulder at Doc, Rowan, and the thief. She turned back and saw Mina still recovering. “We’re not finished,” she said before dashing across the street.

Faith lunged at Doc and Rowan with her cutlass’s blade low to the ground, but before she reached them, a gunshot rang from down the road. The bullet hit the ground near Faith’s feet, then another shot was fired, and Faith vaulted over Doc and Rowan to land on the other side of them. She held her cutlass out toward the thief who froze in place.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’?” Faith said to the thief and tilted her head. “You look familiar.” She glanced toward the person who fired the shots, but still held her sword at the thief’s chest.

Virginia entered the scene on the back of a strong, black stallion with a blaze of white on its face. She held her steel revolver high, still hot and smoking, and reared her steed, Magnus, to a stop.

“Vir—I mean, Gorgeous!” Doc called, still kneeling by Rowan.

“Just what have y’all gotten into?” Virgina said with a wide, confident grin. A strap over her chest held a wide, wooden shield with metal studding to her back.

The thief eyed Virginia as she rode over to Doc and Rowan but didn’t move with the cutlass at his chest.

“Vir…ginia?” the thief whispered.

Doc’s hands glowed more while he tried to heal Rowan’s broken ankle, then the light sputtered out and Doc took heavy breaths.

“Doc,” Rowan said. “Don’t exhaust yerself. I’ll be fine.”

Magnus brought Virginia to Doc and Rowan where Virginia dismounted and knelt to help Rowan stand. She helped Rowan mount Magnus and gave Doc the reins.

“Take cover ‘round that building,” she said, pointing at a nearby intersection where Rowan and Doc could hide for the time being.

“We ain’t leavin’ y’all,” Doc protested.

“Just hide fer now. We can all escape soon.” Virginia looked at Faith who stood with the thief at sword-point, then glanced at Virtue across the street who danced around Curtis and Trapper. “Might not seem like it, but I think these rangers’re almost done. I can tell, y’all’ve really worked ‘em in this fight!”

Doc smirked and chuckled, then led Magnus toward the intersection.

Virginia raised her gun and fired two more shots at Faith. The thief ducked, holding his hat to his head. Faith spun around, her coat flaring out like a performer’s dress, and dodged the first bullet, then swung her cutlass up to slice the second in half.

Virginia’s jaw went slack for a moment, then she gritted her teeth and grinned, feigning confidence.

“That was pretty cool; I’ll give ya that,” Virgina said.

Doc watched over his shoulder as he carefully tugged Magnus so Rowan wouldn’t lose her balance.

Virginia furrowed her brow and looked past Faith at the thief cowering on the ground. The thief looked up and adjusted his hat, then met Virginia’s eyes.

Virginia scoffed and smiled widely. “Well, I’ll be,” she chuckled. “Billy? Billy the Kid?”

“Ginny!” the thief replied. “I thought that was you!”

“Ginny?” Doc said down the road, looking at the skinny, clean-shaven thief.

“That’sBilly the Kid?” Mabel said. “But he looks old. I mean, not old, but, like, yer age.”

“Thanks, Mabel,” Sly groaned, resting his arms in his lap as he sat up.

“Just thought he’d be, y’know, a kid.”

“Didn’t you used to hear stories of him when you were younger and still living here? He had to have been in his early twenties already by then.”

“I guess you’re right,” Mabel said, watching the conflict across the street.

Faith looked over her shoulder at Billy, and said, “So, that’s where I know ya from.” She looked at Virginia again. Great, she thought. She focused her attention past Virginia and saw Mina charging across the street.

Mina raced past Virginia and threw several punches at Faith who dodged the blows and backed onto the porch of a nearby shop.

“We weren’t finished,” Mina grunted, and she threw her flurry of blows.

Faith continued to dodge and used the porch’s supports as obstacles for Mina to attack around. Mina got low and thrust her boot up at Faith who swung over the railing. Mina’s boot smashed through the wooden railing, sending splinters flying.

Virginia took a step in Mina’s direction, then stopped and looked back at Billy.

“Let’s catch up in a bit,” she said, then ran up the road toward Mina and Faith.

Virtue continued to battle with Curtis and Trapper with her boomerang. Curtis and Trapper used their guns as blunt weapons and tried to fire shots when given any opening, but Virtue was light on her feet even with her hefty weapon and didn’t give them long opportunities to shoot. Trapper also tried to grab the boomerang any chance he got, but with the blade on its inner edge, that was proving next to impossible to accomplish.

His spell lets him paralyze foes using shadows, Virtue thought as she spun and ducked and swung. Doesn’t even need to be his shadow directly touchin’ theirs if there’s at least some connection between ‘em.

Virtue lured Trapper and Curtis in with an opening just like she had with Sly, but this time threw her boomerang away from the group. When Curtis and Trapper moved in to attack and paralyze her, she slid underneath their attacks and met her boomerang on the other side, catching it, then swinging the blunt end at the back of Curtis and Trapper’s heads. Their bodies plummeted to the ground and their faces met the sandy dirt with great force.

Mabel winced, witnessing the rangers slowly defeat Minutes ‘til Midnight and her friends. She stood and grabbed the whip on her belt.

“Wait, Mabel,” Sly yelled. “You don’t know how to use it!”

“I have to try,” she said and ran toward Virtue.

Virtue lunged at Smiley just as he fired his revolver, knocking his hand upward with her boomerang and releasing the gun from his grip. Smiley looked down at her, grinning nervously and slowly raised his other hand. Virtue pressed the small notch in the wood to retract the blade.

Suddenly, the braided leather thong of Mabel’s whip lashed out at Virtue’s back, hitting her limply, then fell to the ground.

Virtue turned and looked at the flaccid coil on the ground and followed it to the wielder who stood nervously. Mabel’s lips quivered and Virtue smiled.

“Cute,” the ranger said.

Where’s that damned doyen, Faith thought as she backstepped to avoid Mina’s punches.  She swung her cutlass in retaliation, but Mina’s hardened muscles prevented damage. Faith backed away for a moment and lifted the left side of her coat to reveal that she was carrying a pistol which she drew, but Mina grabbed her hand and tried to force it downward. Faith aimed it at Mina’s stomach and fired several shots, but Mina flexed her abs to block the bullets.

Faith swung her other arm to attack with the cutlass, but Mina pulled her closer and grabbed her other wrist, locking her in a tight, wide grip.

Virginia rushed in behind Mina and punched her fist through Mina’s back using her spell. Virginia’s fist emerged from Mina’s stomach and thrusted into Faith’s ribs before Virginia pulled her fist back through Mina and stepped back, shaking her arm.

Mina propelled her knee into Faith’s stomach, then released her wrists and kicked the ranger’s chest. Faith recoiled and fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Mina turned around to Virginia who had a sickened expression on her face.

“I didn’t like that move,” Mina said.

“Let’s not do it again,” Virginia replied with a half-smile.

Faith rose to her hands and knees, cutlass still in hand, breathing heavily after losing her wind. She wiped the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead with her sleeve and looked at Mina and Virginia who stood ready for one more fight.

I could really use a drink, Faith thought, then noticed a figure walking closer from up the road. When she realized who it was, her eyes widened and her strength began to return to her.

Doc and Rowan sat with their backs against the wall of a building at the intersection just down the road. Doc peered from around the corner and also saw the figure approaching, but couldn’t make out who it was.

I got a bad feelin’,” Doc said quietly to Rowan who was slowly rotating her ankle to see if she could walk on it.

Virtue kept her boomerang out toward Smiley, but she looked at Mabel.

“Don’t make yerself a threat, kid,” Virtue said. “Do ya have a spell? Tell me now and I won’t hurt ya.”

Mabel shook her head. Her whip remained uncoiled along the ground near Virtue’s feet.

Virtue smirked, then caught a glimpse of the approaching figure in the corner of her eye. When she craned her neck to look over her shoulder, a wide smile split her face and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Billy readied his horse for departure, thinking, Sorry, Ginny. As much as I want to stick around, I got no place in yer mess. He retightened his saddle and hopped atop his steed before looking up the road and recognizing the person approaching. A shiver went down his spine as he swiftly turned his horse to ride in the other direction.

Really sorry, Ginny, he thought, as he lashed his steed’s reins and compelled it in an immediate gallop ahead.

The back of Curtis’s head throbbed, and he saw two of everything when he opened his eyes. He lifted his torso and rested with his forearms in the dirt, then looked up to see the mysterious newcomer.

“Who is…?” he groaned.

“Dawn,” Sly said through gritted teeth and a shaky voice. “It’s—”

“Angel Eyes!” Virtue shouted “Woohoo!”

“Ah, hell,” Curtis groaned.

“Shit,” said Virginia.

“Damn it,” Doc grunted and closed his fist in the dirt.

Angel Eyes wore plain clothing in neutral colors, including his boots and hat which matched the dust floating through the air. A pair of clear goggles pressed into his forehead. He stopped about 20 yards from the bulk of the fighting and stood straight, arms by his side, boots parallel. Curtis saw one revolver on the right side of his belt. His ranger band was around his right bicep—where it was for most rangers who obeyed the dress code. As usual, his eyes were closed.

An ominous wind blew across the street, picking up more dust and debris and making a soft hum as it passed between buildings.

“Surrender yourselves calmly, outlaws,” Angel Eyes said. His voice was calm yet stern, and it carried a great distance despite being light and without strain. “If you don’t, we’ll have no other option than force.”

“Open yer eyes,” Mina said. “I’d say what’s happenin’ right now is quite excessive force.”

Billy and his horse sprinted down the side of the road toward the intersection. He urged his horse to move quickly, but quietly. Doc saw Billy approaching and thought for a moment. When Billy neared the corner where Doc and Rowan were hiding, Doc stepped out in front of Billy’s horse, forcing the beast to stop trotting and rear up.

“Hey,” Billy said quietly but with much force. “What’re you doin’? He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the rangers hadn’t noticed his escape.

Doc stood in front of the horse and looked around its head at Billy. “You know Virginia, right?”

Billy didn’t answer, then Doc continued.

“We need to git outta here an’ could really use another horse. We’re all Virginia’s friends here, so if you are, too, please help us.”

Billy sighed and looked nervously back over his shoulder.

“You don’t gotta fight Angel Eyes,” Doc said. “But if there’s anythin’ you can do, we just need a head start. You can just take Rowan here an’ she’ll show ya where we’re stayin’.”

Billy turned and faced Doc again.

“Please,” Doc pleaded.

Billy inhaled deeply, then released his breath slowly.

“Who’re you? Ginny’s boyfriend er somethin’?” Billy said and dismounted his horse. Then he continued, “Fine. I got somethin’ up my sleeve, but I’m just doin’ it ‘cause I owe Ginny.”

“Thank you,” Doc sighed.

“This is your final warning,” Angel Eyes called. 

Mabel stood completely still, but she turned her face slightly in Sly’s direction.

“Sly,” Mabel said quietly, not taking her eyes off Angel Eyes.

Sly swallowed and looked ahead. “Dawn,” he said.

Curtis closed his eyes and took a few quick breaths, then opened his eyes and forced a foot under himself to begin to stand.

Virtue glanced at Curtis, prepared to strike him down again, but didn’t move when she saw Angel Eyes slowly raising his arms.

Angel Eyes grabbed the goggles on his forehead and adjusted them over his eyes.

Virtue turned her head quickly and faced away from Angel Eyes, and Faith, now standing again, facing the ground.

Billy began slowly walking on foot back toward the main group, but stopped when he saw Angel Eyes put on the goggles. He turned to Doc and raised his hand.

“Look away!” Billy shouted.

Doc turned his head to the side and raised his arms in defense.

Angel Eyes, underneath his clear goggles, opened his eyes. They glowed with radiant light that outshined even the sun to those who gazed upon them. Everything else around seemed to dim as if under an eclipse compared to the heavenly luminescence of Angel Eyes’s spell. With no other sign of activation, Curtis, Sly, Mabel, Smiley, Mina, and Virginia all dropped their struggling expressions in favor of blank, ignorant stares toward Angel Eyes. Their bodies relaxed, loosening their grips on any weapons they were holding. Mina’s body softened back to their regular muscle tissue rather than stone.

Doc began to lower his arms after a moment, but Billy urged him not to look.

“His spell works like a charm,” Billy said.

Doc listened, not looking up from the ground and wondered how much Billy knew about spells.

Billy continued, “While his eyes are open, anyone who looks at them, even in peripheral vision, will be stunned and unable to move or speak. They probably don’t even realize what’s happening.”

“Do you have a plan?” Doc asked.

Billy furrowed his brows and frowned, thinking about their options. “We need to break Angel Eyes’s spell somehow, but he wears those goggles to keep dust and debris out of his eyes, so it’ll be pretty hard to brute force an interruption.”

Doc thought, too, then realized Rowan was safely tucked around the corner and wasn’t being hit by Angel Eyes’s spell.

“Hey,” Doc said. “The woman over there—her spell can nullify any other spell within a short radius. If she can just git close enough—”

“Anyspell?” Billy asked.

“As far as we know,” Doc answered honestly. “It hasn’t failed us yet.”

Billy thought for a moment longer, then said, “Okay, but we need to be quick, and we can’t look in Angel Eyes’s direction.”

“Do you have a spell?” Doc asked.

Billy nodded once. “If I can git close, too, then I’ll be able to hold Angel Eyes and his followers in place for a bit while you all git outta town.”

“What about you?”

Billy smirked. “Tell Ginny I’ll need another favor after y’all leave.”

“Right,” Doc said after a moment of silence. “Killjoy got hit bad by the short one’s boomerang, so I’ll go make sure she can walk. What else do you need to happen?”

Billy took off his hat and held it out by the top, stretching his arm out in front of himself. He said, “Just make sure Killjoy turns off Angel Eyes’s spell. After that, I’ll do my thing and yer group’ll be good to go for a while. I’ll draw it out as long as I can; my record’s nine-and-a-half hours.”

“What does that mean?” Doc said, still not looking at Billy in case he accidentally caught a glimpse of Angel Eyes behind him.

“You’ll see,” Billy said with a handsomely guilty smile.

Billy turned around with his hat in front of his face, then slowly moved it away from himself until his arm was fully outstretched. His hat blocked Angel Eyes from his view so he could look in the general direction of the rangers without being caught in the trance.

Doc made his way back around the corner and ensured that Rowan could move on her own.

Angel Eyes moved his gaze over to Billy and Doc, maintaining his hold on the rest of his targets.

“Virtue,” Angel Eyes commanded. “Round up those caught in my spell.”

Virtue nodded and, while keeping her eyes averted from Angel Eyes, slowly moved to place shackles and rope around the wrists of those frozen in trance.

“Faith,” Angel Eyes said.

Faith tensed up and a shiver weaved its way down her spine.

“Detain those two,” Angel Eyes commanded.

Faith nodded and looked up at Billy who was looking right at her with his hat still blocking Angel Eyes’s spell. She rushed forward, brandishing her cutlass. Billy raised his revolver at lightning speed and fired three shots, each of which Faith managed to slice or avoid, much to Billy’s astonishment. Faith swung her sword diagonally upward, then back down across Billy’s chest. Billy stumbled back and, realizing he only had one minor slash wound, and looked at his gun to see the barrel cut in half and part of the six-shot cylinder missing.

He tossed the broken pistol aside and clutched his bloodied chest with his free hand. Faith moved in for another slash. Billy leaned into the attack to move around it and as Faith’s hand passed by his torso, he grabbed her wrist at the same speed she rushed forward, then brought her arm down over his knee. Faith yelled out in pain from the hyperextension of her elbow while her cutlass flew from her hand, landing on the ground some yards away. Billy chuckled before Faith raised her other arm with her revolver in hand and fired several rounds up close, but Billy agilely side stepped and guided her body around his.

Billy kicked the backs of Faith’s knees to make her stumble, then wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind and locked them in place by grabbing hold of his own forearms.

“I saw this one at a carnival once,” Billy laughed aloud and said before he used all his strength to hoist Faith over himself as he bent backward and fell toward the ground, cushioning his fall with Faith’s head as she was slammed with great force.

Faith rolled over onto her hands and knees, groaning. She shook her head and lifted herself up, instinctively pointing her gun hand at Billy, then realized her hand was empty.

Billy twirled her gun around his finger, grinning.

Faith growled and said, “Last I checked, yer bounty was at 145 gold. I see it’s not just yer spell inflating the price.”

“It prob’ly acts as multiplier,” Billy teased. “You’re just no good without yer sword.”

Billy heard rushing winds to his left and glanced to see Virtue’s boomerang rotating toward him at a phenomenal speed, but once it got within a few yards of him, it slowed almost to a stop. Billy stood absolutely still with Faith also seeming to freeze in place with her scowl. Billy took a slow step back and the boomerang slowly crept a few feet closer in the air, then moved at normal speed and stepped out of the way of the boomerang which resumed its normal flight. The outlaw turned his whole body to avoid the boomerang and fired the last two shots from Faith’s revolver at Virtue.

One shot missed, but the other pierced Virtue’s arm, going straight through her bicep and staining her sleeve with a splash of blood. Virtue shrieked and clutched the bullet wound while her boomerang made its return. However, after being slowed by whatever Billy the Kid had done, the boomerang’s trajectory was defective and didn’t return to Virtue but instead took a wider approach and crashed to the ground nearer to Angel Eyes.

“Markley!” Faith yelled.

Billy made sure that his hat was still blocking his line of sight on Angel Eyes as he ran in the direction of the doyen.

Virtue took a deep breath and said, “I’m fine.” She noticed Billy’s sprint and carefully looked toward her boomerang, being sure to use the brim of her hat to block Angel Eyes’s spell. Once she spotted her weapon on the ground, she too began to run toward Angel Eyes. Faith took a deep breath and trusted that Virtue’s wound could wait to be addressed, so she picked up her cutlass and stretched her arm to make sure it wasn’t broken, then chased Billy toward Angel Eyes.

Angel Eyes watched as Billy sprinted toward him. He knew Faith’s revolver was empty, so Billy would need to attack him directly at which point Angel Eyes could easily trap Billy with his spell. As he waited for the moment, he listened carefully to his surroundings and heard the slight shifting of dirt and sand as Doc ran toward him.

Behind me, Angel Eyes thought and swiftly whipped out his pistol on his belt and aimed in Doc’s direction without turning his gaze away from the rest of the group. He fired a shot, but the footsteps kept coming. Missed, Angel Eyes thought, but you’re there. He fired another round, this time hitting Doc just outside of his peripherals.

Doc tumbled on the ground with a bleeding thigh. He closed his eyes as soon as he was within Angel Eyes’s field of vision.

“I practically live my life blind,” Angel Eyes said. “You thought attacking from out of sight would work? You should’ve used a pistol.”

“Wasn’t tryna kill ya,” Doc said. “Not yet anyway. I just needed to be louder than her.”

Angel Eyes raised an eyebrow, then heard Rowan’s quiet creeping about 30 feet away. Rowan focused her attention on Angel Eyes. With no sign that Rowan activated her spell, Angel Eyes’s power ceased and everyone entranced came to, shaking their heads and blinking like they awoke from a daydream.

Billy glanced around and noticed Angel Eyes’s spell wearing off, so he replaced his hat on his head and held it in place with one hand as he sprinted.

“Doc, move away!” Billy yelled.

Doc bit his tongue as he stood, putting pressure on his wounded leg, and forced himself to run away from Angel Eyes.

Angel Eyes, too, noticed the nullification of his spell and thought of only one explanation. He noted Billy’s rapid approach and quickly decided it best to take out the counterspell caster. He spun rapidly around and aimed his gun at Rowan. Such a strange sensation it was for him to look directly at someone without them numbly standing idle with a blank stare. Nonetheless, he didn’t hesitate to fire a bullet at Rowan.

Billy stopped in a wide stance before reaching Angel Eyes and outstretched his arm. Just like before, everything around Billy slowed to a halt. Faith froze mid-sprint and Virtue was stuck in a bent position as she reached for her boomerang, but only barely touched the wood with her fingers before she froze. Angel Eyes stood totally still as the bullet exited his revolver and raced toward Rowan. The flare at the tip of the barrel hadn’t faded before being frozen in time with Angel Eyes’s body. The bullet, which at first moved faster than the speed of sound, also slowed and halted mid-air only a few feet from Rowan.

In the middle of the invisible radius of his spell, Billy was also frozen in place with a cocky smile on his face.

Doc stared in awe of the power, then looked around at his companions who were steadily recovering from their trances.

Rowan yawned and moved toward the rest of the group to reconvene and retreat.

“Everyone okay?” Doc called and received a mix of groans and affirmations.

“Trapper’s down,” Curtis said as he slowly stood and held the back of his head. “We got hit pretty hard, but I think he took the fall harder.”

“Help me git ‘im on Calypso,” Rowan said and rode over to Curtis and Trapper.

Curtis stood still for a moment, making sure he could balance himself upright while Sly held onto his own arms and walked over to Mabel.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Mabel nodded and wrapped her whip around the small hook on her belt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sly said. “We’ll practice and you’ll be lashing and thrashing our enemies in no time.”

“A couple of people can hop on Magnus,” Virginia said. “I’ll take Billy’s horse.”

We need’a git back to our hotel,” Curtis said. “Then we’ll meet y’all at the cottage and assess our wounds.”

“Don’t be long,” Doc said as he ran over to Virginia.

Smiley and Mina took Magnus and rode off with Rowan who steered Calypso with a couple of half-empty grocery bags still hanging on the sides of the saddle.

“How’re yer arms?” Curtis asked Sly as the two of them and Mabel ran toward the old town.

Mabel looked back at the rangers frozen around Billy and thought of all the stories she heard years ago.

Curtis and Sly, too, took note of the mysterious ability, but stayed focused on their retreat.

“That boomerang may have reset the healing time on my wrist,” Sly said. “And might’ve broken my other arm.”

Doc mounted Billy’s horse behind Virginia and wrapped his arms around her waist before she spurred the horse to speed off.

“Ya never mentioned bein’ friends with Billy the Kid,” Doc said over Virginia’s shoulder.

“We may have a slight past,” she admitted. “He owed me a favor, so now I guess we’re even.”

“Well, he said he’d need another favor from ya once we’ve escaped.”

“I think I know what ‘e means,” she sighed.

“So, his spell,” Doc continued after a few minutes of silent riding. “I know it’s called Dilation. Has somethin’ to do with time distortion, right? That’s how he froze everyone in a small radius ‘round himself?”

“I don’t know exactly how it works,” Virginia said. “But it’ll buy us some time to leave town.”

“Dawn and his crew’ll likely want to head to Dry Creek. What’re you feelin’?”

“I don’t think we should since that’s where Angel Eyes will expect them to go, but…”

Doc nodded and held tight to Virginia as they rode.

Curtis, Sly, and Mabel ran back to their hotel and up to their suite to collect their things. Few words were spoken between the three who were equally weary from the extended battle. Curtis sent Mabel down ahead of him and Sly to check out and retrieve their horses and cart. Less than twenty minutes after fleeing from the White Snakes, Curtis, Sly, and Mabel were on the road. They hurried to the cottage where Minutes ‘til Midnight were staying and found their group loading their stagecoach. Calypso and Magnus were already hooked up to the front of the cart with Trapper and Mina mounting the saddles.

Curtis directed Esprit toward the stagecoach where Doc approached and looked up at Curtis on his steel steed. Doc placed his hands on his hips and put most of his weight on one foot. Curtis was backlit by the sun, so Doc squinted to try and see Curtis better.

“You’re headed to Dry Creek, right?” Doc asked to which Curtis nodded. “Well, lemme just say that’s a predictable move. Ya won’t be able to hide from Angel Eyes there very long.”

“Sly an’ I talked it over,” Curtis said. “The plan is to let Angel Eyes come to us. This time, we’ll be prepared.”

“You gonna go back there? To where yer journey began, I mean.”

Curtis sighed and nodded slowly. “I don’t think I have much choice. Dry Creek’s the only place south o’ the Big City I haven’t asked around at. And I’m hopin’ I may’ve left a clue unfound at Midnight’s ranch somewhere.” Curtis watched the rest of Minutes ‘til Midnight finish up their packing. “You comin’?”

“You bet,” Doc answered. “Perhaps begrudgingly.”

“We’re grateful fer yer help,” Curtis chuckled. “What d’ya say to ridin’ straight through to Dry Creek? Gain as much of a head start on Angel Eyes as we can.”

“I say it sounds like a shitty ride,” Doc said. “But prolly the best choice.” Curtis said nothing else, so Doc parted with, “We’re almost done here. Be right behind ya.”

Curtis spurred Esprit to head east out of Thorntree with Minutes ‘til Midnight trailing them not long after. The familiar sound of Esprit and Firefly’s hooves kicking up sand as they treaded through the endless desert was accompanied by the squeaking of the trio’s cart’s wheels and the soft raddling of their supplies in the back. Mabel sat beside Curtis on the driver’s bench while Sly rode alongside.

Mabel examined her whip, studying the way it bent and the limitations of the tightly braided leather that made up the thong. She acknowledged the whip’s weight and tried to imagine herself flicking her wrist in just the right motion to crack the end. Curtis stared ahead silently.

“Now you know how I felt,” Mabel said, looking down at the yellow sand being pushed in wakes by the cart’s wheels. “How I felt on our way to Thorntree.”

Curtis frowned and sniffled, then said, “Maybe. I don’t dread goin’ back to Dry Creek. Sure, I lived there, but it was only fer a few years.” He adjusted himself in the bench, then continued, “The more I learn about Midnight, I honestly wonder how I ever called that ranch home. It was… more like a training camp. All Midnight ever did was put me to work er teach me how to use my spell. And now I know he’s probably the reason I have a spell to begin with. All I’ve done is reap what he sewed.”

Mabel looked up at Curtis who continued to stare ahead. She sighed and looked back at the sand. “Do you ever wish ya never got a spell?” she asked.

Curtis chuckled. “Sometimes, yeah.”

“But it does come in handy against our enemies.”

“Enemies we likely wouldn’t’ve had if I didn’t have the spell.”

“Good point,” Mabel frowned.

Sly groaned from atop Firefly. He pulled a crumpled slip of paper from his pocket and opened it.

“I totally forgot about this,” Sly said, holding up the wrinkled paper. It was the voucher for a free portrait of the trio Sly had gotten Mabel for her birthday. “We never ended up having time for this.”

“That’s okay,” Mabel said. “I kinda expected as much since we never know when we’ll have to leave some place.”

“We’ll find another artist somewhere else,” Sly said. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Mabel said with a smile.

Not long into their trip, Sly tied Firefly to the side of the cart while Sly slept under the hood so he could stay awake to steer Esprit overnight. Eventually, Minutes ‘til Midnight caught up to the trio and rode with them the rest of the way, stopping at the Twin River W. for a break and to give their horses a rest before making the rest of the journey uninterrupted.

At dawn the next morning, Dry Creek faded into view on the horizon, the rushing black water of the Twin River E. passing through the city and glistening in the early morning light. Orange and pink rays shined from behind the taller buildings of the city’s silhouette, bleeding high into the sky and illuminating the deep blue of the end of night. Curtis and Mabel awoke right as the first beam of light peered past the buildings and shone a shimmering path in the sand leading to the city. A strange feeling befell the entire group—one not of fear nor anxiety, not one of joy nor excitement, but one of acute awareness. Awareness not of their surroundings or each other, but of themselves and the distinct characteristics that made up each of their individual identities.

Click here for a map of the journey so far.

The large, molded, wooden doors of the double-decker barn shook gently from the outside. The dark interior—shaded from boarded windows and a patched roof, still with tiny beams of light like spider’s silk shining through tiny gaps in the plank walls—was damp and cold. Dust slowly sifted down from the high beams when the doors shook again.

“Must be barred,” Sly’s muffled voice came from outside.

A few moments later, the doors shook again, much more violently this time. A quake ran through the entire structure with each hit, until finally the moldy bar set behind the doors splintered and fell to the ground as the doors swung open with a bang. The top hinge on one door broke and let the door fall a few inches and lean against the front wall. Powerful daylight illuminated the shadowy barn with its dank, greened stable walls and gates, and its fuzzy hay floor that stank of mildew from dank grasses.

Sly walked inside following Curtis and examined the damaged doors.

“Sorry, Dawn,” he said, lifting the broken door slightly to see if he could put it back on the hinge only to realize the hinge had shattered, rusted.

“Ain’t my barn,” Curtis said, examining the inside of the empty, decrepit barn. He looked up at the two-story ceiling.

“I figured you might hold some sentimental value or something,” Sly said.

Mabel wandered through the stalls where horses were once kept.

Curtis stood in the gate of the first stall on the left and sighed, then spoke.

“Not sure why I thought there’d be somethin’ left.”

“It was worth a shot,” Mabel replied.

The three of them exited the barn, leaving its doors wide open, and walked across the expansive stretch of grass between it and Midnight’s house. A rusty, simple metal fence surrounded the whole ranch—all 242 acres roughly confined to a neat rectangle on the outskirts of Dry Creek. A single, dusty road led from the city along the front of the property. Light foot and carriage traffic swept up and down the road, but nobody stopped at the ranch or even looked to question the apparent trespassers.

There was no sign indicating that the land was up for sale, nor any clues that someone was currently living there or using the land for anything. The fields were mostly yellow, and the tracts of dead crops ruled out any farmers using it for off-site keeping. The nearest other buildings were a furlong either way down the dusty road and belonged to other ranchers and farmers who paid little mind to the property of others unless a fire or other danger was at risk of spreading across property lines. The group had closed the iron gate behind them on their way up to the house and stowed their cart and stagecoach around the back.

Doc met the trio by the house’s side door, letting the spring-hinged door slam shut as he walked out.

“The house has no clues,” Doc said. “Still full o’ stuff. Dusty, dirty stuff. Nothin’ outta the ordinary fer a typical rancher, though.”

“Barn’s totally empty,” Sly said.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here fer a while,” Virginia said coming around from the back of the house. “Field’s’re dead, spoiled food in the cupboards, an atrocious sheet of dust on top o’ everything in there.”

“Not even the Government’s done anythin’ with it?” Mabel asked.

Doc shrugged, then Curtis said, “Somebody’s been around. There’s a patched-up hole in the roof o’ the barn that wasn’t there when I left.”

“Natural deterioration over a couple years,” Doc said.

“But who patched it up?” Virginia said.

After a moment of standing, Doc turned and walked toward the side door and the others followed him inside. The interior of the house was just as described—completely decorated as it had been when Curtis was last there, but with thick layers of dust coating every surface. Despite the patch in the barn’s roof, there was no evidence of anyone ever tampering with the house, which was strange, Curtis and everyone else thought, considering what secrets may lay within. The group found no secrets after a long time searching.

Fishing memorabilia and many illustrations of fish cluttered the walls, and the old oak furniture gave the whole house a warm atmosphere like a cozy cabin on the river. There were no pictures of Midnight, of course, nor any of Curtis. The group moved furniture, lifted the carpets, looked behind the paintings, scoured each floor inside as well as the cellar which was entered from the outside. Curtis and Doc returned to the barn and tore apart each of the other sheds and small buildings littered on the ranch. Still, everything came back revealing that only someone—likely a farmer and/or rancher—once lived on the property. There was no evidence of when they left aside from the copious amount of unencumbered dust in the house, nor of why they left.

Of course, Curtis knew when Midnight vacated the property and had a vague idea of why, but the answer was not set in stone. At the house, Virginia and Smiley prepared food using the stove after clearing the dust away. The sink still produced water when the knobs were turned and the electric lights in the house turned on at the flip of their switches. When Doc and Curtis returned from the field, the sky was already a deep orange with a spot of white on the western horizon. Before they entered the side door, Sly stepped out.

“Hey, Dawn,” he said.

Curtis brought his gaze down from the sky.

“Maybe this was obvious to you,” Sly continued, “but I was thinking about what Erin Glass said about one of Midnight’s associates—you, of course—‘holding the key’ and ‘having the answers the Government’s been looking for.’”

“Mhm,” Curtis listened and stopped and stood in front of Sly. Doc stood with them.

“Well, if that’s true, then Midnight wouldn’t have just up and left without leaving you with something to go on. If not a clue about his whereabouts or plans, then probably something important he could trust only you with.”

Doc nodded in understanding and looked at Curtis.

Curtis looked at the ground and said, “Yeah, I’ve thought about that.” He looked up at Sly and Doc and shrugged. “I guess now’s a good time t’ check.”

Around the back of the house away from any prying eyes from the dirt road, Curtis unsheathed Esprit under the dimming light of the setting sun. Her steel hide gleamed under the red sky. The metal that confined her didn’t hinder her movement in the slightest; she shook her head when the sheet was removed and her silky black mane and tail flowed like real hair despite being made of fine, steel wire. There were thin but still noticeable lines across her body defining the places that made up her exterior, yet none of the plates overlapped or shifted when she bent her joints and stretched her muscles.

The metal behaved like skin with minor stretching and bulging with each motion. Her eyes fit into her sockets perfectly like a real horse’s and were no colder than the average less-than-sentient steed of most cowboys in the Valley Strip. Hers had more depth than other animals’ eyes. Her teeth, gums, and tongue were all metal, as well, yet she produced saliva. She had no need for food or water, but her throat appeared to extend past the back of her mouth into the darkness of her esophagus. She didn’t produce waste and she never tired. The only maintenance she required was the occasional oiling to loosen any grains of sand caught in the tiny slits between plates.

Her hide had never rusted or scratched, though bullets could leave minor dents in her side. She didn’t seem to feel pain, was devoid of instinct, and was unafraid of anything capable of harming or killing a regular horse. As Curtis has explored before, there was nothing constructed in her design to dictate her sex and it was assumed that she couldn’t be bred regardless. Her origins were entirely unknown as there was no signature of any kind to define who created her. Curtis had always assumed Midnight did, somehow, though he couldn’t recall Midnight ever displaying any welding skills, nor had he ever seen the horse before Midnight vanished.

Curtis ran his hands along the seams of Esprit’s plating; he rubbed her face, combed her mane and tail with his fingers, trailed his palm over her back and under her smooth metal belly, around each leg and up and down her neck, but he felt nothing that could be a hatch to access her interior. He wouldn’t be surprised to find a fully functioning set of metallic organs pulsing and throbbing as if made of flesh. Perhaps her blood—if she could bleed—was quicksilver or molten iron. Alas, the group would never know, it seemed, if the only way to get inside was to break in with force. Curtis shut down the idea immediately when Doc suggested it.

Doc just shrugged.

“If there is a way t’ git inside,” Curtis said. “We’ll find it. If she’s a key to somethin’, I wanna keep ‘er intact as long as possible.”

“Fair enough,” Doc said. “Well, I’m starvin’ and it smells like dinner’s ‘bout ready. Let’s cover ‘er up an’ git some grub!”

***

After dinner, Curtis excused himself from the table—which Rowan had kindly taken the time to dust and scrub—and stepped onto the front porch which was furnished with a couple of rocking chairs and a cushioned, swinging love bench. Curtis slouched on one half of the bench, removing his hat and dropping it on the ground beside the bench, placing his feet firmly on the wooden deck to keep it from swinging forward and back. He lay his head back on the top of the bench and stared at the wooden roof covering the deck, then sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

The sky was a deep shade of pink with purple invading from the east, but it was still light enough to see across the fields if not without much detail. The house faced south toward the dirt road running east and west. No traffic had passed by in several hours. On the other side of the road were fields belonging to the distant neighbors. Curtis had always appreciated the quiet privacy that came with a lack of neighbors who could look straight across through the windows. Behind the house, past the fields, was a thin row of trees that helped isolate the plots from one another even more.

Curtis had expected a wave of nostalgia or homesickness to wash over him after spending some time at the ranch again, but no feelings of reminiscence came. Crickets chirped in the dead grass, almost putting Curtis to sleep like they had for so many years while he lived with Midnight. An owl which Curtis swore he recognized hooted from a tree behind the fields.

Surely it isn’t the same owl, he thought as he smiled. It’s offspring, maybe.

He didn’t fight the drowsiness and was content to doze off in the stiff cushions but was jolted awake at the feeling of Mabel sitting on the bench beside him, causing it to rock gently backward before Curtis stopped the motion.

Mabel sat far into the seat with her back completely against the upright cushion, letting her feet dangle off the ground. She looked ahead at the grassy yard in front of the house and didn’t speak. Like a toddler on a swing, she appeared totally relaxed and at peace.

Curtis glanced at her briefly, but when she said nothing, he rested his head back again and adjusted himself slightly to doze off.

“Do you miss him?” Mabel asked, now leaning forward a bit with her hands pressed into the cushion and kicking her feet up and down to rock her side of the bench just slightly.

Curtis sighed and lifted his head again, then cleared his throat. “Um…” he began.

“Midnight, I mean, of course.”

“Right,” Curtis said. He leaned forward, too, placing his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. He sniffled. “Do I miss Midnight?” he sighed.

“Mhm.”

“No, not in a traditional sense, I guess.”

“Did you love ‘im?”

Curtis leaned away from the girl and looked at the side of her face while she continued to look south. “Not in a traditional sense,” he repeated.

Mabel nodded.

After a moment, Curtis asked, “Do you miss yer parents?” without entirely expecting Mabel to answer differently than she did.

“Yes. A lot. Probably more than I remember them, really. My sisters, too.”

The two sat in silence for a minute before Curtis followed up with, “I’m sure they’re okay, out there somewhere, missin’ you, too.” When Mabel didn’t respond, he added, “If that’s what you want, anyway.”

Mabel shook her head just slightly. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

Curtis slowly turned his head and looked out toward the dirt road. The iron fence was barely visible in the fading light of dusk and the grass looked almost more alive as it turned from yellow to a shadowy dark blue.

“So,” Curtis said, rubbing his nose. “I saw ya readin’ through that book of Timbly’s plays on the way here. Are ya likin’ it so far?”

“Yeah,” Mabel said cheerfully with a smile. “They’re really funny. We have to act out a scene while we’re here. We have enough people fer the cast and an audience.”

Curtis chuckled. “Yeah, I remember readin’ some o’ his stuff back in the day. Always got a laugh outta me.”

“We could do The Two Gentlemen of the Ridge. You can be the real gentleman Vince. Sly can be Perceus; he’s the funniest.

“He’s also a terrible person,” Curtis quickly replied with a grin.

Mabel shrugged and giggled.

Curtis allowed the bench to rock back and forth while Mabel swung her legs above the deck. They continued to talk about Worbus Timbly’s works when Curtis glanced to the road and caught sight of someone standing at the fence. He picked up his hat and stood, cutting Mabel off mid-sentence, and leaned on the banister around the porch. Upon seeing Curtis, the man at the road waved.

“Howdy, friends!” the man called.

“Shoot,” Mabel whispered.

Curtis stood still, holding on to the banister. He thought for a moment, then let go and walked down the couple of steps in front of the door.

“You’re gonna talk to ‘im?” Mabel said, standing. “What if ‘e recognizes you?”

Curtis looked back over his shoulder and shrugged. “The rangers’re already on their way.” He grinned nonchalantly, unlike any way Mabel had ever seen.

She stepped down the stairs and followed Curtis across the yard to the fence.

“Ya never know,” Curtis said quietly as they walked. “Maybe he and Midnight were friends.”

The man leaned forward against the fence and rested his arms on top of the metal bars. He wore a checkered red and black shirt and overalls and a straw hat. He stood straight and tipped his hat slightly once Curtis and Mabel approached.

“Evenin’,” the man said. He held a box in one hand about the size of two red bricks. A strap hung the box around the man’s neck.

“Howdy,” Curtis replied, and Mabel smiled in greeting. When they got closer, they could see the box was a bulky camera, though they had never seen one without its stand before.

“Nice li’l plot here, huh?” the man said and pointed around the fields and at the house.

“It is,” Curtis answered. “I used t’ live here when I was young.”

“That so? The man who lived here last up and left almost two years ago, but it’s never been sold. Apparently, he wasn’t such a good fellow even though everyone on this road liked ‘im well enough.”

Curtis nodded, suspicious of the stranger’s intentions. “I’ve heard,” he said.

“You buyin’ it back?” the man asked. “The Government’s claimed it now, but I ain’t seen any surveyors come ‘round fer a while.”

“Oh, well, we’ll have t’ see. My lot and I were just checkin’ it out fer old time’s sake. We heard it was vacant, so we figured nobody’d mind if we spent the night.”

The man laughed and adjusted his hat. “Just don’t go getting’ into trouble now, ya hear? If anyone from the Government comes back ‘round, they might not like ya hangin’ out.”

“Yes sir, we appreciate the warnin’.” Curtis glanced at the camera which the man had been fiddling with and passing it between his hands. “What’cha got there?”

“Oh, this fancy thang?” the man said and proudly held up the camera. “Picked it up on a business trip to the Big City. The pictures aren’t quite as clear as the standin’ ones, but it’s mighty convenient over luggin’ the gear ‘round like the professionals.”

Curtis and Mabel nodded and smiled at the man’s excitement.

“O’ course,” the man continued, “This one can be placed on a stand too. I’ll use that t’ take photos o’ the sunrise and sunset. Even in black an’ white, the vibrant skies’re such a beautiful sight.”

Curtis chuckled and continued smiling.

After a moment of silence, the man said, “Welp, I just saw the lights on an’ wanted to see who was walkin’ ‘round the fields. I’ll leave ya to it.”

“Have a good night!” Mabel called after the man started walking east down the road, to which the man raised his hat.

Curtis watched the man’s silhouette shrink as he walked down the dirt road. But the man never turned around to check if Curtis was watching, and soon disappeared around a hill farther east.

“C’mon,” he said to Mabel. “It’s gettin’ late. We need to rest before the White Snakes show up tomorrow.”

“Can we act out some of Timbly’s works tonight?” Mabel asked as they walked back through the grassy yard.

Curtis sighed. “All right, one er two scenes, but then it’s bedtime.”

“Yes!” Mabel cheered.

Across the road in a small, wooded patch shrouded in darkness under the glimmering stars that began to dot the night sky, Truth watched crosshairs highlight Curtis and Mabel’s heads and label them with their names in the goggles’ view.

“Oh,” Promise moaned and slapped a hand—an organic one—on Truth’s shoulder. “I can’t waitfer dawn. The time, I mean, not the guy. He’s gonna be in fer a rough mornin’, though.”

“Yeah,” Truth said and lifted his goggles from his eyes. “Did ya book an extra night at the hotel? We need’a be ready to go when Angel Eyes gits here.”

“Uh, yeah,” Promise snorted before the two rangers walked up the dirt road toward Dry Creek proper.

***

The sun had broken over the horizon but was still hidden by the trees around Midnight’s ranch, and the dew was fresh for the drinking by the critters inhabiting the dead grass in front of the house. Inside, Curtis, Sly, Mabel, and Minutes ‘til Midnight gathered in the living room. Sly rubbed his forearms and yawned with baggy eyes.

“How’re they feelin’?” Doc asked Sly.

Sly smiled and held up his arms. “Good enough. I think if I’m careful, they’ll be okay.”

“Maybe y’ought’a sit this one out then, Doc joked. “I did my best fer ya.”

Sly nodded in thanks before Curtis spoke to the group.

“We know Angel Eyes is comin’,” Curtis said. “We don’t know exactly when, but I’m thinkin’ right at first light is fitting fer a doyen. So, let’s run through this one more time. Sly and I were on the other side of this situation when we invaded Armani Anderson’s branch outpost, so we’re takin’ a bit from her strategy.”

“Not the bits that you exploited, I hope,” Trapper said half-joking.

“The parts that seemed to work,” Curtis answered. “Revealing ourselves piece by piece is good, but only as long as we match their numbers. I think it’ll also be good to lure the White Snakes in and have them come deeper into our turf. Armani’s hastiness lost ‘er that fight. We’ll be patient and draw the White Snakes apart from one another so we can take them down surgically.”

Doc raised his hand and spoke when Curtis gave him a look granting him permission to chime in.

“I know what you’re gonna say, but I still think we’re at a major disadvantage if we refrain from killin’ the rangers.”

Immediately, Curtis stood straight and shut Doc down. “We won’t be killin’ anyone today.” He sighed deeply and looked around the group. “As a last resort, if it’s either you er the other guy, then do what you gotta do to live. But the plan is to incapacitate Angel Eyes so we can question ‘im before getting’ the hell outta here. Our priority needs t’ be separatin’ Angel Eyes from ‘is group an’ creatin’ a long enough opportunity fer interrogation and escape.”

The rest of the group watched him with great focus and understanding. Mina, Trapper, and Virginia shifted their weights and crossed their arms as Curtis spoke, but they all wore neutral expressions.

“I don’t want more blood on my hands,” Curtis added, “and I know y’all don’t either. So, last resort, only.”

Curtis looked at Doc for final confirmation and Doc nodded sharply in agreement.

***

Angel Eyes and the White Snakes walked nonchalantly down the dirt road toward Midnight’s ranch. The sun was flashing thin beams through the trees surrounding the ranch, but not enough to give color to their surroundings just yet. When the ranch came into view, Angel stopped in place. The White Snakes stopped on either side of the doyen and slightly behind in formation. Truth’s goggles were hard at work, scanning the scene and trying to detect even the slightest movement so Truth could quickly whip his arm in place for a locked-on shot. Promise stretched his arms—the real ones and the prosthetics—and made sure he was loosened up for the fight.

Faith popped the cap off a small bottle of alcohol and slurped it down in one gulp behind Angel Eyes’s back. Virtue frowned at Faith’s quick drink. Her left sleeve was torn, and her skinny arm was bandaged with bruises spreading outward from her wraps. She straightened up when Angel Eyes spoke without turning around to face his group.

“I would wish you all luck, but by now I know you don’t need it,” he said, his eyes closed tight without so much as a twitch from the orbs underneath their lids. His clear goggles squeezed against his forehead. “Whatever mistakes were made in previous encounters with Dawn and his companions, we will all be sure to avoid. Dawn is the only one we need alive, but killing the others would certainly tarnish our names as rangers. In the worst case, if necessary, we can call them collateral at fault for their own deaths. However, I don’t see any reason being good enough to explain shooting a young girl, so do your bests not to kill Mabel Greene. Otherwise, do what is necessary for us to succeed. We will not repeat the Band of Lovers’ failure.”

With that, Virtue and Faith diverted from the path and made their way around the western side of the ranch, hiding within the trees while Angel Eyes led Truth and Promise through the front gate of the ranch. Angel Eyes employed no stealth in his approach and pushed the creaking, metal gate open which announced his presence, but remained unwavering. His boots crushed the damp, dead grass with each step as he walked up to the house with dim windows and no sign of life anywhere within.

Angel Eyes stopped about ten yards from the porch and halted Truth and Promise. Angel Eyes spoke in his usual calm yet amplified tone.

“I was foolish to give you more than one chance to surrender,” he called. “This time, I warn you once. Come out slowly and quietly immediately or Promise will torch this plot to ashes.”

Down the road, in the opposite direction as Dry Creek from Midnight’s ranch, the neighbor from last night snapped a photo of the sun peering through the trees. He smiled a satisfied smile while he waited for the printed picture to develop. His smile faded, however, when he squinted his eyes and spotted the White Snakes standing in front of Midnight’s ranch house. He peered through the camera as a makeshift telescope and zoomed in with blurry focus on the three rangers looking at the house.

“I will not count past nine,” Angel Eyes stated. “One. Two...”

Angel Eyes stopped counting when he heard soft footsteps from the east side of the house in the field between the house and the barn. Doc and Mina stood bravely in front of the rangers with clenched fists.

“Promise,” Angel Eyes said. “Detain them.”

A second later, Promise was running low to the ground with his four arms ready to unleash deadly attacks should Doc and Mina move even an inch.

“Truth, find the others,” Angel Eyes commanded and lowered his goggles over his closed eyes.

Truth nodded and began moving around the west side of the house. Doc reached for his revolvers and Promise leapt into the air and flicked a bayonet out from the enhancement on his organic right arm. The ranger’s weapon fell upon Mina’s hardened back after she stepped in front of Doc, raising her flexed arms over her head and bending one knee upward in a pose. Promise smirked at the toughness of Mina’s muscles. Mina looked over her shoulder and returned a smile and chuckled.

Virtue looked through a pair of binoculars at the action already unfolding in the dim side yard.

“Promise is engaging,” she said to Faith who was standing behind her, squinting to try to see the action.

Virtue scanned the surrounding ranch, starting at the house and paying attention to the darkened windows. She moved her gaze slowly east across the side yard and over to the barn where she spotted a small head poking out from the main doors. She saw Mabel watching as Promise attacked Doc and Mina, then ducked back inside the barn and shut the door.

No doubt Angel Eyes noticed, too, Virtue thought. “Okay, let’s move in.”

“All right,” Faith said with a grin, gripping her cutlass tightly.

Meanwhile, Promise continued his assault on Doc and Mina. Promise threw a dozen punches in only a few seconds thanks to his four arms, but Mina withstood the barrage with her whole body flexed. He drew back his lower right and upper left arms and fired two round, metal pellets from each of them. The pellets deflected off Mina’s hardened shoulders and back, but Mina still felt the impact. She groaned and turned around to grab Promise’s arms, but the ranger lunged away and slashed at Mina’s hands with his bayonet which, of course, failed to damage Mina’s impenetrable skin.

Doc ducked out from behind Mina and ran around Promise to reach Angel Eyes. Promise turned and pointed his upper left arm at Doc, but before he could fire more pellets at Doc, Mina dashed forward and grabbed hold of Promise’s shoulders to yank him backward.

FLOOMP!

The shock net fired from the large compartment on Promise’s upper left arm and flew high into the air before dropping limply into the grass. Doc continued to charge at Angel Eyes who stood ready for a brawl when Sly suddenly appeared from around the back of the barn to the east and raced toward Angel Eyes. Angel Eyes noted the rhythm of their footsteps and predicted that Doc would reach him first. He reached for his revolver when a cold blast struck his face, smearing oozing mud across the top of his face and covering his goggles in sludge. Angel Eyes swiftly changed targets and fired a shot at Sly which pierced the top of Sly’s shoulder and ricocheted off the bone, doing minimal damage.

Doc lunged for Angel Eye’s gun and grabbed hold of the doyen’s hand.

“Is acting as bait all you’re good for?” Angel Eyes asked Doc while the two wrestled for the gun.

Truth held his revolver in both hands and walked around the west side of the house. As he rounded the corner, Trapper extended a hand from the early shadows of the day and grabbed at Truth’s arm. Truth spun around and paid attention to the shadows; his shadow was only an inch or two from Trapper’s and the enormous darkness cast by the house, so he forced himself back as quickly as possible and raised his weapon to fire at Trapper. Two bullets shattered the window Trapper stood by as Trapper ducked and dove out of the way of the other bullets Truth fired.

As bullets blew smoking holes in the wooden paneling, Rowan leapt through the broken window and rolled along the ground, then raised her own revolver and fired several shots at Truth. Truth’s goggles quickly locked on to Rowan and the mechanism on his arm ensured his aim was accurate. Two bullets tore through Rowan’s flesh, one in her stomach and the other in her thigh. She cried out in pain and Trapper lunged forward to fire more shots at Truth, then grabbed the small disc on his belt and held the thin wire between two fingers. Trapper tossed the disc at Truth who watched it closely as it flew. With a snap of Truth’s right arm, the disc shattered into pieces.

Trapper’s revolver roared with thunder as more bullets raced toward Truth, but the ranger dove and rolled around to the front of the house from where he came. Trapper quickly tore the curtains inside the broken window and used them to wrap Rowan’s stomach, then supported her as they walked toward the back of the house.

Across the side yard, Faith and Virtue stealthily moved toward the front of the barn, then stood on either side of its large, rotting wooden doors. The women looked at each other and nodded, then Virtue stepped directly in front of the doors and grabbed the rusted handles. Before she yanked the doors open, a skinny arm phased through the planks with a clenched fist and swung right over Virtue’s head, then retreated inside without leaving any trace on the doors. Virtue pulled as hard as she could, and the doors flew open. Faith charged in with Virtue right behind her, but all they found were a cart and stagecoach, as well as four horses in the stable stalls.

Faith looked left and right but spotted no outlaws. She and Virtue stepped farther inside the barn to inspect the area and find the individuals who were obviously hiding inside, but as they walked toward the wagons and horses, Faith felt a tingle in the hairs on her neck and spun around while drawing her cutlass, slicing horizontally behind her and right over Virtue’s head. Smiley slunk backward after having tried to touch Virtue and Faith, no doubt to use his spell on them and alter their memories somehow. Faith then twisted around and swung vertically to her right to attack Virgnia who charged from around the carts and held up her studded shield to block Faith’s attack.

Faith’s sword cut slightly into the wood but was stopped from slicing completely through by the shining metal studs giving the shield more structure. Virginia knew, however, that the metal wouldn’t hold for long if Faith withdrew and cut more precisely like she had with the bullets a couple days before, so she pressed forward and extended her arm through the shield with another fist. Faith backed away and stumbled on her heels but escaped the blow and recovered for another slash at Virgnia’s shield.

Mabel screeched as she fell from above and landed behind Virtue who had no time to react before Mabel wrapped her whip around Virtue’s neck like a noose and pulled tightly to take the mini ranger in a tight grapple. Smiley, relieved that he didn’t have to fight Virtue alone, jumped a little at the sound of gunshots from outside. Angel Eyes attempted to pull his gun free from Doc’s grip, but Doc held tight as Sly ran to the doyen and greeted his face with a sturdy fist. Sly was relieved that his blow landed considering he was doing his best to avoid looking at Angel Eyes’s face, but his positivity quickly faded when Angel Eyes twisted his arms around and brought Doc into a choke hold while still vying for the revolver in his hands.

Doc gagged and tried to reverse the grip to no avail, releasing the gun in the processes and being kicked away once Angel Eyes was in control of the weapon. Sly dove away as soon as Angel Eyes pointed the gun in his direction again, narrowly avoiding the bullet. Sly clutched his shoulder and knelt by Doc.

“Yer shoulder don’t look so bad,” Doc said between heavy breaths.

“It’ll be fine,” Sly confirmed.

“Good. I gotta spare my spell as much as possible.”

Sly nodded, then said, “We just need to hold him off as long as we can.”

“You’d think with his eyes closed that we’d have the advantage even while focusing on his feet.”

Sly and Doc charged at Angel Eyes again from either side. The doyen faced straight ahead and listened to the steps, holding his gun up without firing, then twisted his body to avoid Doc and Sly’s simultaneous strikes. He moved between their bodies as they pounded the air, but he was too nimble. He dodged their attacks almost effortlessly, then once Sly was close, Angel Eyes bashed the back of his gun into Sly’s nose. Sly put a hand on his face and used his other hand to draw one of his seven-shooters. Angel Eyes was several steps ahead and wrapped his arm around Sly’s to direct the gun at Doc, then put his hand over Sly’s hand and pulled the trigger. A bullet launched from the barrel of Sly’s gun and tore through Doc’s hip.

Truth’s voice came from across the front yard as he yelled to Angel Eyes.

“The nullifier’s over here!” Truth called. “She just went behind the house!”

“Pursue her and prevent that spell!” Angel Eyes replied.

Truth nodded and loaded a few more bullets into his revolver’s cylinder, then held his revolver out as he turned the corner to the side of the house once more. He rushed toward the back and stopped just before the corner and placed his back against the wall. He listened for signs of movement, and when he heard only silence he whipped his gun up again and turned the corner. Trapper stood from behind a dampened hay bale and fired two shots at Truth. The first bullet flew past the ranger, but the second hit squarely in Truth’s right bicep and the ranger’s arm fell limp.

Truth groaned, but locked on to Trapper with the crosshairs inside his goggles and the mechanism on his arm forced his gun upward. He fired a single shot and blew the gun from Trapper’s hand, then fired a second shot which shattered several tiny bones as it bored through Trapper’s hands. Trapper threw himself back behind the bale and Truth quickly moved in. Trapper threw bloodied fists at Truth, but the ranger easily avoided the panicked blows and swung his revolver at the side of Trapper’s head, slamming the pale man’s face into the sticky hay. Trapper fell limply to the ground before Rowan ran up behind Truth, her pant leg torn and part of the curtain wrapped around her upper thigh to slow the bleeding from Truth’s bullet.

Truth felt searing pain shoot through his spine before a tormenting surge consumed his chest. He turned around and saw Rowan holding her revolver, but before she pulled the trigger again, he flung himself to the ground and fired a bullet into each of Rowan’s feet, forcing her to fall and grip her feet in agony. Truth slid through the prickly grass and slammed a foot into Rowan’s face, bashing her head into the section of stones at the base of the house below the wood paneling. Rowan, too, fell limp and released her gun. Trapper and Rowan were still breathing, though at that point Trapper was less concerned about their lives than his own.

“Shit,” he groaned as he sat up against the hay bale and put a hand over his shoulder where Rowan had shot him just below the shoulder blade. Blood instantly soaked his hand, and he noticed an irregularity in his breathing and his chest get cold. He sat still for a few moments and looked at the sky which became bluer with each passing minute. He swallowed harshly, then ripped at the hay and pressed the moist, dead grasses against his gushing back.

In the side yard, Mina held tightly to Promise’s organic arms while enduring a beating from his prosthetics protruding from his coat. Promise stopped punching with his lower right arm and opened his fist to fire iron pellets from the small hole in his palm. Mina flexed her abs and chest to deflect the bullets. Promise summoned the bayonet from his upper right wrist once again and Mina released that hand and grabbed the blade, snapping it with a swift flick of her wrist. Partially released, Promise turned and aimed his upper right hand at Mina and fired the grappling hook contained within the large compartment on his forearm, entangling her arm in its cord and yanking her toward himself.

When Mina stumbled forward, two metal fists met her waist with incredible power. Mina flexed tightly but could feel the energy from the punches ripple through her stomach. She groaned and held tightly to Promise’s upper left hand. A bead of sweat fell from Mina’s forehead down her temple and to the bottom of her chin. Promise reared his head back and brought it forward, slamming it against Mina’s forehead. They both gritted their teeth as Promise smirked.

“I know ya can’t protect yer head with yer spell,” he said through a clenched jaw.

Mina breathed steadily, tired but ready for whatever Promise threw at her next.

Virginia bobbed and weaved away from Faith’s slashing, using her shield only when necessary to take hits, but the wood was beginning to splinter already, and a couple metal studs had popped out onto the moldy straw floor.

Calypso, Magnus, and Firefly shifted uncomfortably in their stalls as the fighters danced around the barn creating a ruckus. Esprit stood completely still under her cover in a stall near the back of the barn. Faith and Virtue hadn’t noticed her with how quiet she was, but her dark eyes peered through small holes in the sheet and watched the battle raging outside in the side yard.

Virtue threw herself backward, forcing Mabel to stumble and knock into one of the thick, trunk-like beams supporting the barn’s aged roof. Virtue swung her boomerang around and knocked Mabel’s sides until the young girl finally released her tight hold on the ranger’s neck and let the whip fall with Mabel’s hands to her side. Virtue stepped away and twirled the boomerang as if it were a light silver ring like a circus performer would twirl, but its weight was evident upon impact with Mabel’s arms, sending the girl tumbling across the dirty floor.

“I told you not to make yerself a threat,” Virtue said, standing straight.

She turned to Smiley next who gave a nervous grin. He raised his hands and revealed a revolver in one of them, quickly firing a couple rounds at Virtue; but the ranger danced like a trained ballerina and knocked the gun from Smiley’s hand with her boomerang. In one motion, never breaking the flow of her steps and twirls, she smacked Smiley’s legs to bring him to the ground, then slammed the boomerang into his chest. He felt his ribs crack and most certainly rupture something they were developed to protect.

Faith backed Virginia into a corner and was ruthlessly hacking away at the shield. She brought the sturdy blade down one more time which Virginia blocked using the shield. The sword stopped hard against the shield, but Virginia could feel the wood straining under the pressure and Faith could sense the shield was about to give. Faith looked over her shoulder at Virtue.

“Get that girl to Angel Eyes,” she said, straining. “I’ll be finished here soon.”

“Right!” Virtue said and shackled Mabel’s wrists, then forced Mabel to her feet and led her at gun point out of the barn.

Virginia breathed heavily and watched Mabel be led away. Come on, Ginny; ya can’t lose! she thought.

Angel Eyes threw Sly over his shoulder, tearing Sly’s poncho in the process, then took a few steps back while Sly and Doc recovered. Doc held his glowing hand to his hip and healed himself only as much as necessary to keep fighting. Sly looked up, exhausted, and saw Angel Eyes wiping his goggles with the pieces of Sly’s poncho that he had ripped off. He and Doc both watched the ground to avoid the blinding white when Angel Eyes inevitably opened his eyes. Sly charged head-down at Angel Eyes. When Sly got close, Angel Eyes slipped around and brought his knee to Sly’s face. He caught the ex-ranger before he fell away and grabbed his pale hair, then forced Sly’s head upward to look at his face.

A blazing light shined from within Angel Eyes’s goggles and Sly instantly went numb. He knelt on his knees and looked into the doyen’s eyes, mouth agape and eyes tearing up. Doc rushed in from behind Angel Eyes and tried to wrap his arms around Angel Eyes, but the doyen was swift to duck and kick behind himself and strike Doc’s knee, then grabbed Doc’s arm and folded him over his back. Angel Eyes slammed Doc onto the ground within his field of vision and caught him in his Paradise Gaze. Once both of his opponents were entranced, Angel Eyes exhaled deeply and shackled their wrists and ankles. When he stood, he saw Curtis emerge from the house’s side door.

Down the road on the grassy hill one plot over, the neighbor man watched the scene from the grainy view of his camera. He stood tensely, watching the whole fight and knowing he should turn away and retreat inside his home, but he couldn’t pull himself away from the action.

Curtis wore his hat low over his face to block Angel Eyes’s gaze. He walked through the dead grass—now fully yellowed by the sun’s rays shining over the trees surrounding the ranch—and stopped halfway between the barn and house. He faced Angel Eyes, but kept his eyes turned to the ground and whipped his revolvers from his hips, twirling them around his fingers, then clicked their hammers and aimed in Angel Eyes’s direction. Angel Eyes stood straight with his revolver in hand, waiting for Curtis to catch even a glimpse of his radiant eyes, but Curtis was careful.

Esprit, still near the back of the barn, looked past the cornered Virginia and stared out at the side yard. Her eyes widened when she spotted Curtis, and the machine within her hummed with excitement.

Curtis adjusted his fingers around the grips of his revolvers and steadied both trigger fingers. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“Ya came treadin’ on the wrong ground,” Curtis said and raised his head just slightly to view Angel Eyes’s feet.

“Do you say so?” Angel Eyes asked calmly. “Why don’t you open your eyes? While you were hiding away, your allies lost the fight. Surrender this instant and we won’t kill the lot of you.”

Curtis chuckled. “There’s a reason I’m standin’ here still,” he said confidently. “We don’t give up so easily.”

“Do you say so?” Angel Eyes asked again, but his downward inflection at the end of the sentence posed it more as a statement.

After a moment of silence, a faint whimper came from across the yard where Angel Eyes was standing, and Curtis noticed the extra pairs of feet shuffling towards Angel Eyes.

“Curtis,” Mabel whined for help, followed by the clicking of Angel Eyes’s revolver’s hammer.

Angel Eyes pulled Mabel close and held his arm around her shoulders and his gun to her head.

“What do you say now?” Angel Eyes posed.

The neighbor down the road lifted his head away from the camera and looked at the scene from afar through his own eyes. He frowned and sighed.

Mabel squeaked as Angel Eyes tightened his grip on her, squeezing her collar bone and neck.

Curtis breathed slowly. He raised his head and spotted Sly and Doc lying on the ground, bound, and trapped by Angel Eyes’s spell.

“Mabel,” Curtis said softly. He slowly raised his hands and took his fingers off the triggers of his guns. My spell, he thought. I gotta trap Angel Eyes somehow.

Virtue stood next to Angel Eyes with her boomerang at the ready in case Curtis made any sudden movements.

“Just wait, Angel Eyes,” Curtis said. His voice shook when he said Angel Eyes’s name. “Mabel, everything’s gonna be—”

CRRRACK!

Two shots sounded like one before both of Curtis’s knees exploded.

Esprit’s eyes glistened in the light from the barn’s entrance, and she kicked her hooves in the dirt.

Mabel squirmed in Angel Eyes’s grip and screeched Curtis’s name as Curtis fell to ground with guttural screams rising from the deepest parts of his stomach and lungs. Curtis dropped to his hands and knees and looked up for only a second—and rather accidentally as part of the motion of someone suffering to the highest degree—and was caught immediately by Angel Eyes’s spell.

Inside the barn, Virginia struggled against Faith’s downward strike. She pressed back with all her strength to try to break free from the ranger’s pressure but knew her shield would give at any moment and her arms would be the only thing between Faith’s cutlass and her body. 

The machine within Esprit roared and the metallic steed burst through her stall’s gate to rush past Faith. Faith glanced at the beast and reached her hand out to grab the cloak.

“You stay here!” she yelled and gripped the stiff fabric, but Esprit continued at a full gallop and leapt from the barn, her cover falling free from her steel-plated body that gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Faith was momentarily stunned by the sight, but regained focus when she felt Virginia pushing back and trying to slip away. Faith spun and slammed her sword’s pommel into the shield, sending a large crack up the shield’s center, then redirected her blade to stab Virginia’s stomach. Virginia’s whole body clenched on its own and when the tip of the blade penetrated her skin, she felt no pain. No blood seeped from the tiny space between the metal and her flesh. It was as if the blade was phasing through Virginia much like the woman did through walls and doors. Virginia tripped backward and fell toward the wall, but instead of slamming the back of her head into the barn’s interior wall, fell right through the planks. Her whole body plummeted to the ground outside the barn with a hefty THUD and a pained groan.

Faith’s brow furrowed and she examined the wall not quite understanding what had happened. She knew of Virginia’s spell—or at least the part that let her phase parts of her body through solid objects—but it hadn’t occurred to her that Virginia could put her whole body through a wall. Why hadn’t she done so to escape earlier? she wondered.

Adrenaline coursed in Mina’s veins and she conjured an incredible might to push back against Promise’s mechanical strength, but the ranger would not let her go. Promise’s lower right arm lifted and sprayed a thick, slippery oil all over Mina’s legs and the ground around them. Meanwhile, his upper arms—the organic ones, though they had also been mechanically enhanced like Orator’s—continued to lock Mina in place and his lower left arm sparked a flame at the end of the flamethrower enhancement.

“I’ll torch you to a crisp if all else fails!” Promise hissed.

Curtis lay still, entranced by the light, not making a sound or moving a muscle.

Angel Eyes loaded more bullets into his revolver and flicked the cylinder into place, then cocked the hammer. He calmly raised his weapon and fired another shot at Curtis, then another, and another, each of them breaking the air around the barrel and ringing Mabel’s ears. The first round tore through Curtis’s shoulder, but before the others reached him, Esprit skidded to a stop in front of the outlaw and reared up in a fury. A deep groan like twisting metal echoed across the whole ranch as the second and third bullets ricocheted off Esprit’s silver hide.

His eyes widening, Angel Eyes stood firm, but his hand shook uncontrollably. Mabel shrieked and cried, tears and snot running down her cheeks and chin. She threw herself to the ground and rolled like a toddler in a tantrum. Virtue watched the girl as an excuse to look away from Angel Eyes’s brutality.

Angel Eyes stepped forward and pushed Mabel with his foot and kept his gun trained on Esprit. He walked forward with an astonished expression on his face. Once he walked past Doc and Sly so his eyes were no longer visible to them, the two shackled men snapped out of their trances and groaned in pain and confusion.

Curtis, having had his sight of the Paradise Gaze blocked when Esprit stepped between him and Angel Eyes, also came to and gasped and moaned in anguish. He clutched his knees. He could hardly feel anything as the pain drowned out his other senses, or perhaps it was the numbness below his knees consuming the rest of his body. Angel Eyes rushed toward Esprit and Curtis, and Faith exited the barn intending to walk around to the other side of the wall Virginia fell through, but Angel Eyes called out to her as soon as she stepped out.

“Faith, move in on Dawn,” he commanded.

Faith stopped and looked across the side yard, pointing around the corner of the barn. “But there’s—”

“Now!” Angel Eyes added.

Faith groaned quietly, then began walking toward Curtis with her cutlass drawn.

Esprit kicked her feet and stomped the ground frantically, waving her head back and forth and snorting up a storm. When Angel Eyes and Faith approached, she thrashed her head and body about, preventing the rangers from getting closer to Curtis who continued writhing on the ground. Angel Eyes looks at the mechanical creature in fascination while Faith observed it with a cautious awe.

“The hell is this thing?” Faith asked.

Angel Eyes raised his hands slowly as if calming a wild animal. He tried placing a hand on Esprit’s metal hide, but the beast wouldn’t allow it and kicked in his direction. Angel Eyes stepped away and put his hands down.

“Your owner will surely bleed out if you do not let us near,” he said to Esprit calmly. “We can take him somewhere to be patched up. If we wait much longer, who knows if he’ll make it.”

Esprit continued her thrashing, but when Curtis reached a desperate, shaking, bloody hand and wrapped his fingers around Esprit’s ankle, she calmed down. She huffed and snorted once more, then backed away slowly. Faith and Promise—along with Virtue some distance away and Truth who had wandered around from behind the house—watched in amazement.

“It’s an animal at its core, I suppose,” Angel Eyes said, then took a few steps toward Curtis and knelt. “Where did you get it?”

Curtis breathed heavily as sweat coated his face and neck. The sun’s rays were intensified by the pain coursing through Curtis’s body with every beat of his heart, so he lay with shut eyes and gritted teeth.

Angel Eyes put one knee on the ground and grabbed Curtis’s collar, pulling him up slightly. “Where did you get it,” he asked in a hushed, stern tone.