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  Peacemaker

  ( Flash Gold Chronicles - 3 )

  Lindsay Buroker

  Lindsay Buroker

  Peacemaker

  Part I

  In a cave on a hillsideabove Dawson, whale-oil lamps spat and guttered, creating dancingshadows against the wooden frame of a ship, an airship. Still in the earlieststages of construction, it was perched on a row of wooden bracesstretching the length of the earthen chamber.

  Kali McAlister bent over a sawhorse, sweatdribbling from her temples as she concentrated on cutting thelumber she had laboriously ported from town on a sledge draggedbehind her self-automated bicycle. When she had first imaginedbuilding an airship, she had dreamed of designing the engine,crafting clever weapons systems, and-of course! — flying the finishedcraft. Dreams of hours upon hours of measuring and cutting woodhadn’t come a-calling in her mind. As the bandages on her fingersattested, she didn’t have an aptitude for carpentry.

  Ding!

  Kali froze midway through a cut and staredat the row of bells laid on the muddy cave floor near the exit. Atiny hammer flicked against the third bell, resulting in a secondding.

  “Now what?”

  Another curious wolf or fox had probablytripped it, but Kali couldn’t assume that, not with the number ofpeople after her these days. Thanks to her late father’s invention,an alchemical power source called flash gold, a number of connivinggangsters had set bounties for her capture.

  Kali set the saw aside and reset the alarm.She grabbed her 1873 Winchester and a pair of smoke nuts,pocket-sized shrapnel-flinging grenades that she’d invented. Readyfor trouble, she jogged outside, heading down the slope towardBooby Trap Number Three.

  She followed a game trail that meanderedthrough the undergrowth. Rain pattered onto ferns, spruce trees,and moss, creating plenty of mud to squish beneath her boots. Froma lookout point above her cave, one had a view down to the marshylowlands where Dawson sprawled, but here, in the thick of thewoods, she could see little more than trees.

  As Kali drew closer to the trap location,she veered off the trail so she could approach under cover. Shepicked her way through damp fireweed and ferns, and soon soaked thecuffs of her overalls. The calendar said late June and there wereonly three hours between sunset and sunrise, but so far themosquitoes and flies were the only ones who thought summer hadcome.

  Movement stirred the branches ahead, andKali hunkered behind a stump for a long look. Twenty meters away, aman dangled ten feet above the ground, one ankle caught in hertrap. So. Not a fox this time.

  He was big and broad, and for a moment shethought it might be her bounty-hunting business partner Cedar, buthe knew where her traps were, and this fellow’s hat had come off,revealing hair a few shades lighter than Cedar’s tousled black.

  As Kali watched, the man swung himself upand grabbed the rope, trying to free himself. That would take him awhile. Kali had used rope threaded with steel and made a knot thatwould only grow tighter if someone fiddled with it.

  The man’s bowler hat lay in the mud beneathhim, along with a Colt Peacemaker. There was also a rectangularcase with the lid flung open and round ivory chips scattered allabout. The revolver drew more of Kali’s attention. Nearly everyman-and more than a few women-carried firearms in these parts, sothe Colt didn’t necessarily mean this fellow had villainousintentions, but it was a good reason to be careful.

  Kali nestled the butt of her rifle into hershoulder and crept closer. “Looking for someone, mister?”

  The man let go of the rope and, danglingupside down again, craned his neck to see her. “Looking for a girlthat’s supposed to be the best tinkerer in Dawson.”

  “She’s awoman, not a girl.” Kalifigured she could, at eighteen, make that claim legitimately,though the man had a few gray flecks in his hair and might notagree. “And she’s got a shop in town. If you asked abouther, that’s wherefolks would have sent you.”

  The man hung silently for a moment beforesaying, “Does that mean you’re not she?”

  “That’s right.” Kaliglanced over her shoulder to make sure the cave-and her futureairship-weren’t in sight. It might be hard to deny she hadtinkering tendencies when she was building such a craft.

  “But you must know her,”the stranger said. “Someone modified your rifle.”

  Kali frowned at him. She had indeed alteredthe Winchester to reload automatically without her needing tomanually chamber the rounds, but most people wouldn’t notice thesubtle changes from a distance. “You’re powerful observant for aman hanging upside down.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He touchedhis head where the brim of his hat would have rested if it were notin the mud below. “I’m a gambling man. Having a keen eye pays in mybusiness.”

  So those were poker chips on the ground, andthe box likely contained cards, dice, and other gaming gear. Thegun made sense too then. For obvious reasons, knives and firearmswere part of many a gambler’s kit.

  Kali lowered her rifle, though she kept bothhands on it. “Why’re you looking for a tinkerer?”

  “Got in a fracas a spellback, and somebody busted my pistol ring. I’m looking for someoneto fix it.”

  A pistol ring? Kali hadheard of the tiny weapons, but she’d never seen one. They werespecialty items, custom-made by a few European masters. She surewouldn’t mind taking a look at one, but she was not yet ready tobelieve his story. How had he known to come up here looking for her? Only Cedarknew about her cave, and she had not seen him in days.

  “I checked,” the man wenton when Kali said nothing, “and the best smiths in town have closedshop and taken to the river to work their claims.”

  That part of his story rang true. The twosmiths that shared a street with her tinkery had been closed forweeks. It seemed like everyone had gold fever and was out muckingabout, which was why she hadn’t been able to find a carpenter, oranyone halfway decent with a hammer, to help with her ship.

  “Pistol ring, eh?” Kalisaid. “Five, six shots? Five millimeter custom bullets orthereabouts?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Won it in agame of five-card stud poker down in San Francisco. I reckon Icould show it to you if you’d cut me down.”

  “I reckon you could do alot of things if I cut you down.”

  “Less than you’d think.Thanks to that rather tight knot up there, my leg has gone quitenumb, so I’m not aspiring to do more than stand again today.” Hesmiled ruefully.

  Kali gave him the squinty eye. He seemedamiable enough-most men would be cursing and swearing at her to cutthem down-but the fact that nobody was supposed to know she was uphere continued to make her suspicious. Maybe he had been watchingher shop and had followed her out of town that morning. If hisintentions were honest, why hadn’t he simply asked for her help inDawson?

  “Grab that rope with bothhands.” Kali pointed above his ankle.

  The man did so, which lifted his head andhands high enough that Kali was sure he couldn’t grab her.

  “Now what?” heasked.

  Before he finished the question, she slippedbeneath him and grabbed the Colt. She left the rest of the kit,though she glanced at the velvet inlay of the open case. A plaqueread, “Preston Somerset.”

  “I didn’t think you hadthe look of a thief,” the man said, his voice cooler.

  “I hope I have the look ofa cautious woman.” Kali stuffed the revolver into her overallsbefore pushing aside a stack of rocks and fiddling with themechanism hidden behind them. She cranked a wheel, and the anklenoose released.

  The stranger twisted in the air and landedfeet first in a crouch. It was the sort of move Cedar could makelook easy, but not many others could. Kali pointed her rifle in theman’s direction again.

  “I suppose caution is wisearound here.” He-Somerset-flicked his gaze to
ward her Winchesterand held his hands out, but his stance was relaxed, his face calm.“Do you think you could talk to your tinkerer friend to see if shemight work on my piece?”

  He tapped a buttoned shirt pocket, and Kalihad to admit she was itching to see the miniature gun. It might besmartest to send this fellow on his way, but Cedar had a sayingabout the wisdom of keeping one’s enemies close. That way one couldsee what they were fixing to do. If she shooed Somerset away, hemight simply spy on her from afar. Better to pretend he’d won herover, so she could find out what he was up to. And-a smile curvedher lips-maybe she could persuade him to saw a few boards while shewas at it.

  “I might be able to talkto her, a favor if you like, but you’d need to do a favor for me,”Kali said.

  “That could probablyhappen.”

  Quick to agree, wasn’t he? He hadn’t evenasked what she had in mind. “How’re your carpentry skills?”

  “I can manage tools,”Somerset said. “What’re you-”

  A woman’s scream tore through the trees.

  The stranger’s head whipped around. The cryhad come from down the slope, somewhere close to town. Anotherscream followed, a sound of sheer pain, before it was cut short inthe middle.

  Kali was about to ask the man what he knewabout it, but he spoke first.

  “Someone’s in trouble.” Hetook a determined step toward her, his hand reaching toward theColt, but caught himself and asked, “May I have my piece,please?”

  Kali hesitated a moment, then tossed him therevolver.

  Without another word, he sprinted down thetrail in the direction of the screams. He disappeared into thetrees, leaving his gambling kit behind.

  Kali wasn’t certain it was the smart thingto do-she had a briar patch of her own troubles without gettingtangled up in someone else’s-but she headed downhill anyway,following Somerset’s prints in the mud. Because he had been runningand not trying to hide his trail, she could track him withouttrouble. He had seemed to know where he was going. She wondered ifshe should find that suspicious or simply figure that he wassomeone like Cedar who knew how to locate people. A professionalgambler might have been a soldier or scout before turning to gamesof chance.

  The buzz of a sawmill drifted to Kali’sears, and she thought she might end up in town, but Somerset’stracks turned off the trail instead of angling toward the mainroad. They veered through the undergrowth and led to a muddy horsepath running between houses outside of Dawson proper. The numeroustracks made it harder to distinguish newer prints from old, andKali started to doubt whether she was still on the trail.

  She paused, head cocked, to look and listen.Though the noises from town floated up the hill, no birds chirpedin the nearby trees. Smoke rose from the chimney of a log cabinahead, and Kali jogged in that direction. It was a one-roomstructure with a single window, its “pane” made from glass bottles.Someone knelt among the stumps in the clearing outfront-Somerset.

  Kali grimaced when she realized what he wasexamining. A woman was sprawled on the ground, her yellow dresssaturated with blood. She had the bronze skin and black hair of anative, maybe Han, Kali’s mother’s people. Though Kali washalf-white and had left the tribe as a child to live with herfather, she couldn’t help but feel a kinship toward the woman,stranger or not. Here was someone else who had left her people totry out a different life.

  Kali walked closer, though she had a feelingshe shouldn’t. What was that old saying? You can’t keep troublefrom visiting, but you don’t need to offer it a chair.

  “Is she alive?” she asked.An inane thing to ask-the woman wasn’t moving and there was moreblood on the grass than water in the river-but she wanted to saysomething so Somerset wouldn’t be surprised by her arrival. Men uphere could be twitchy, and she had given him his gunback.

  He glanced her way, but voices came fromsomewhere down the trail, along with the rhythmic clomps of horsestrotting. A flash of crimson moved between the trees, and Kali’sgrimace deepened. Mounties. Though her adventures had not run herafoul of the law, she had an inkling it might not be a good idea tobe seen loitering nearby when bodies were found. She backed towardthe tree line, but paused when she spotted a third figure joggingalongside the mounted men.

  Despite being on foot, Cedar burst into theclearing first. He started toward the dead woman, but noticed Kaliand halted.

  She had not seen him innearly a week, and, with mud spattering his deerskin trousers andoilskin duster, he appeared to be fresh from a hunt. Only the swordhilt and rifle butt poking above his shoulders remained free ofdirt; he would never let grime besmirch his weapons. Someone whodidn’t know him, or wasn’t on friendly terms with him, would seethose weapons and his grim face-made grimmer by a vertical scarthat ran from his brow to his cheek-and step out of his way,far out of his way, butKali knew he was a fair man.

  Cedar started to smile, an expression thatmade him look a little less fearsome, but a glance at the deadwoman kept the smile from breaking out. Instead, he tipped hisslouch hat and said, “Afternoon, Kali.”

  “Cedar,” Kali said. Sheknew his real name but had decided to keep it to herself since hesupposedly had a Pinkerton detective after him for some crime he’dbeen framed for down south. Sometimes when they were alone, shecalled him Milos, but they were, alas, rarely alone. Since theirlast adventure, where they’d shared a kiss, she had been to thedancing hall with him once and to supper a couple of times, buthe’d been scarcer than diamonds during the last month. She hatedthinking or acting like a silly girl, mooning after a man, butshe’d been wondering if she’d said or done something that had madehim realize their relationship was a mistake. “I didn’t know youwere in town,” Kali added. “I’d been hoping you’d come by and helpme build…stuff.” Conscious of the other men, she kept the detailsof her airship project vague. Cedar would know what she meant; he’deven shown interest in going along on some airborne adventuresomeday. “I should’ve known it’d take a crime to lure you uphere.”

  Something-chagrin? — flashed in his eyes, buthe didn’t say anything. The Mounties had ridden past him and wereswinging off their horses to investigate, one stopping to examinethe body while the other jogged into the cabin.

  Kali blinked and spun a circle. The gamblerhad vanished.

  “It’s the third one inthree nights,” Cedar said.

  “Huh?” Kali swung back toface him.

  “Third woman killed, herbody ravaged by claws. The other two were pretty young tribalgirls, too, one hitched to a white man, and one working atPeckerby’s Saloon.” He removed his hat and scratched his head. “Youhadn’t heard?”

  “No, I’ve been busywith…stuff.”

  “I have, too, but thewhole town’s talking about the slayings. It’s hard not to hearabout it.”

  “Well, my stuff ispowerful engrossing,” Kali said.

  “Miss?” one of theMounties asked. “You might want to go back to town. This isn’t afitting place for a girl.”

  Kali propped her fists onher hips, not sure whether she was more offended that they thoughtwomen couldn’t handle seeing dead people or that they weren’tasking her any questions about the killing. Did they not believe afemale could be responsible for such a vicious crime? Kali caughtCedar raising an eyebrow in her direction, and she kept herselffrom voicing her thoughts. It was better not to be held as a suspect, afterall.

  Despite the twitching eyebrow, Cedar said,“She’s tough, Harrison. I don’t reckon she’ll lose her vittles oversome blood.”

  No, not when she had seen Cedar slice theheads off of any number of criminals.

  “T’ain’t proper for awoman to be exposed to such ugliness, Cedar,” the Mountie said.“You had a good look yet?”

  Cedar headed for the body, and Kali followedhim-after being called “tough,” she supposed she shouldn’t hangback and appear squeamish. Massive claws had raked parallel linesthrough the woman’s abdomen and torn her entrails asunder. Twoshallower slashes had ripped open her jugular.

  “Just like the others,”the Mountie
said. “Looks like a bear did it, but bears don’t ambleinto town and rip people to pieces.”

  “It wasn’t a bear,” Cedarsaid.

  “What then?”

  “I don’t know,” hesaid.

  The second Mountie joined them. “Nothing buthuman prints around the cabin, and plenty of those. Vixen had anumber of regulars. Hard to say which might belong and which mightnot.”

  “Vixen?” Kali asked. Thegirl looked no older than she, and her face was familiar, thoughKali had never known her name. She had only been in Dawson forthree months, and, with its thousands of people-maybetens of thousands bynow-most folks were strangers. “You knew her?”

  “Er, yes.” The Mountiecleared his throat and studied the ground. “Elizabeth Hardee overat Hardee’s Girls wouldn’t let no colored ladies work in herestablishment, so Vixen-I don’t know her rightful name-put herselfup out here and made do with clients who like Injuns or don’t wantto put up with high prices.”

  “I’ll have a look at thetracks,” Cedar said. “Will there be a reward for the murderer’shead?”

  “For…a bear?” the Mountieasked.

  “It’s not a bear,” Cedar said.

  “No human didthat.”

  “You see any bear tracks?Any non-human tracks?”

  “No, but-”

  “I’ll have a look around,”Cedar said again.

  “Suityourself.”

  “And so willKali.”

  “I will?” Kaliasked.

  Cedar patted her on the back and guided hertoward the edge of the clearing. “You’ve got an observant eye, whenit’s not engrossed in ‘stuff’.”

  “Well, I’d just as soonget back to my stuff while you tramp around in the woods.” Kaliwasn’t sure why she said that. If she could help the girl’s spiritfind a peaceful journey to the afterworld, she should, but she hada notion that she shouldn’t jump to please Cedar when he hadn’texplained his scarceness. Then she rolled her eyes at herself. Quitacting like a dumb girl, she thought. If you want to know why hehasn’t been around, ask. “But I’ll help if you take me out forsupper tonight.” Then she could talk to him without Mountiesaround.