Page 56 of Deadwood
He took a moment to find it, but once he did, his eyes widened, his body turning as stiff as the ice sculptures the dragon had created. “That’s not a person, Auria.”
“It has to be,” I said, studying it further. But upon closer inspection, I could tell he was right. It was a shadowed figure floating at least a foot off the ground, watching us from afar. Its form blew with the breeze, tendrils of dark strands casting out to the side of it, but it didn’t move.
“Will it attack us?” I asked, suddenly feeling the danger as if it was the very blood in my veins.
“Not until the sun is gone.” He tore his gaze away from the creature, calling up to his brother. “Paxon.”
Paxon looked back at him, then followed where Lander’s finger was aimed toward the creature. The only indication that he saw it was the slight stiffening of his movements. “Pick up the pace,” he ordered.
I glanced back at the guards. They were farther behind than I had hoped, but they would make it. We’d only lost one of them so far, the guard falling due to blood loss. Attempting to carry him the rest of the way would have put the rest of us at risk. We’d made the decision to leave him behind after Paxon confirmed his pulse had stopped.
Keeping a wary eye on the creature, we approached the run-down town. The being didn’t make any moves toward us, staying in place as it hovered over the land rather than standing on the sand. I didn’t want to find out what it could do if it got to one of us after the sun sank behind the distant mountains that surrounded us.
With another glance at the creature, my eyes caught on a cluster of tiny dots in the distance. I tried to focus in on them, and with a narrowed gaze, it seemed to be a herd of livestock. But the animals didn’t look like the cows I’d seen in Sulphur. Instead, the brown mammals had slightly hunched backs and short legs, and I instantly recognized them from a book I’d read as a child.
They had to be bison, based on their shape. But they couldn’t be, could they? Bison had been extinct for years. I shook my head, blinking a few times to help focus. My vision was slightly blurry due to dehydration and the exhaustion that threatened to claim me. I had to be seeing things.
Coming up on the edge of the town, the sand turned to dirt, leaving the desert behind. Ahead, Paxon waited by one of the wooden buildings for us. Going in together was smarter than going in alone.
“I’ll do the talking,” he muttered as Lander and I reached him.
We both gave a nod. I didn’t think I’d be up for much chatting anyway.
We followed behind him as we entered the town, the guards only a few paces behind. The buildings lining the dirt street looked worn down, the wood stained with years of wear from the elements. Porches sat barely elevated above the ground, doors wide open with warm candlelight emanating from the insides. Even the air held a tinge of dirt, the distant smell of whiskey and cigar smoke laced with it. Just that alone made a sense of unease crawl up my spine, but even so, this was immensely better than the way the desert made me feel.
People bustled about, but they were dressed in clothes so unlike that of the kingdoms we’d previously visited. Everyone on the street before us was wearing something different, whether it be the colors or the way they layered their clothing. Some looked like they were a sort of guard, wearing black, dirt-stained outfits with boots that laced up their ankles and thick leather around their chests, which appeared to be some sort of armor. The others were dressed like everyday citizens with more worn, wrinkled fabric, neutral colors layered upon leather wrist pieces, boots, and the odd hat here or there, with a wide brim that went all the way around. Very few seemed concerned with their appearances, wearing cleaner clothing with their hair neatly styled. Though, despite the effort put into their appearances, it was still not as nice as I was used to.
A sun-bleached sea-green building stood tall on the right, catching my eye. A spiral staircase led up to the balcony where two women and a man were perched, leaning over the rails wearing clothes that left little to the imagination. They hollered down at the people walking the streets, some acknowledging them while others continued on their way.
We’d barely made it past one of the businesses when two men stepped out in front of us, stopping us in our tracks.
“State your business,” one of them demanded.
“My men are hurt,” Paxon said, his voice stiff with restraint. He clearly didn’t appreciate being ordered around. If the men blocking our path knew who we were, they didn’t indicate as much.
“That’s none of our concern. Turn around and continue on your way,” the other man ordered.
We wouldn’t make it if we did, not if what Paxon said was true. The shadow-figure was out there, waiting for us to be vulnerable, without light to protect us. I wondered if it would wreak havoc on this town, but the people didn’t seem too worried with the sun going down, so I assumed we’d be safe here. Safety was all we needed right now, at least for the night. I couldn’t let him turn us away.
“Please,” I begged, stepping out of Lander’s grasp. I put some weight on my ankle, ignoring the pain that shot up my leg as I limped forward. “We only need to stay until we’re well enough to travel.”
One of the men turned his attention on me while the other kept his eyes trained on Paxon, watching him closely. “We’re not a rest stop for royal folk like you.”
I came up beside Paxon, standing a few feet to his right. The pain in my ankle was a constant throb, but with being so used to it now, I could bear to put some weight on it. “Where is your king? Surely he will allow us to stay, if only for one night.”
The man snorted, shaking his head. “King or not, you’re not welcome here.”
My brows drew together. “I’m from Amosite, the daughter of King Tenere.” I nearly cringed saying the words aloud. “You aren’t a part of the other four kingdoms, so you must have your own leader here.”
He glanced at his equal, amusement dancing in his eyes as he crossed his arms, a sardonic smile cresting his lips. “This is Deadwood, sweetheart. There is no king.”
My mouth parted, but any words I’d been about to say were lost on my tongue. A town without a leader? Land without a king?
“Leave her alone, Billie,” a smooth, deep voice said from somewhere beside me.
I barely recognized it, my mind pulled in a hundred different directions, but as I turned to face the man who had spoken, realization hit me.
Bowen stood with his arms and ankles crossed, leaning a shoulder against a wooden post supporting an overhang over one of the porches. He was dressed similarly to how he’d been at my father’s castle, yet looked more so like the night of Exitium Lunae: lethally calm. Still, he exuded the same confidence as before, like danger appealed to him and he wasn’t afraid to give in to those urges. His dark hair was messy, as it’d been every time I’d seen him, and the black shirt he wore hugged the inked muscles of his biceps, stretching across his chest. His leather pants were tucked sloppily into his black boots, and as my eyes traveled back up his body, I found his focus homed in on me.
