Flash Gold fgc-1 Page 3

  “What are you-”

  An explosion roared, hammering her eardrums. Wood splintered and snapped. Branches and needles pelted the snow around them.

  “What wasthat?” she asked when Cedar rolled off her.

  “Grenade.” He patted the snow. “Tarnation, where’s my gun?”

  Her ears rang, and she barely heard him. A rifle fired, the sound puny compared to the previous blast, but a bullet burrowed into the snow inches from her face, reminding her how deadly the threat was.

  Kali rolled to her back. She had retained the grip on her rifle, and she lifted it, searching for the gunman.

  Cedar, sword in hand, plowed down the hillside, churning snow as he high-stepped through the powder. The man in the gully popped up, rifle pointing toward Kali, but he shifted it toward Cedar.

  Not able to target him from her back, she lunged to her knees. She feared she would be too slow to help Cedar, but somehow he anticipated the gunman’s shot. He hurled himself into a roll, and the bullet flew harmlessly high.

  Kali fired, aiming for the man’s shoulder. She clipped him, but he did not go down. He howled in pain-or maybe anger-and turned his rifle on her. He pumped the lever, but she fired again first. Once, then again. Both shots took him in the chest.

  Eyes bulging wide, he stared in disbelief. His rifle fell to the snow, and he slumped out of view behind the gully wall.

  Dead. By her hand.

  Kali propped herself on her rifle for support and closed her eyes, chin drooped to her chest. It was not the first time she had wounded someone, but it was the first time she had killed. Self-defense or not, it did not sit well in her gut. As if becoming a killer added some measure of truth to the imprecations the townsfolk sent her way. Evil witch, they whispered. Harbinger of death and misfortune.

  Snow crunched as Cedar approached. He had sheathed his sword and located his rifle. “How do you fire so quickly?”

  Her surprised “Huh?” frosted the air before her eyes.

  “Those rapid-fire shots. It almost sounded like a Gatling Gun.” His gaze fell to the lever of her Winchester. “How did you chamber the rounds so quickly?”

  “You’re worried about how my gun works when we just killed a pile of men? Are weapons the only thing you care about? What’s wrong with you?”

  His eyebrows rose at her outburst. Maybe it was not wise to berate such a proficient warrior.

  His response was mild though: “Much, I’m told.”

  Kali eyed the desecrated copse. The grenade had mauled the evergreens, leaving one knocked over and several with broken or missing branches. Her first feeling was one of indignation-the Mounties were supposed to be limiting firearms in the Dominion of Canada-but her second feeling involved inquisitiveness. She was tempted to see if anything remained of the grenade so she could take it with her to examine later. She caught herself before moving more than a step that direction. If her thoughts could shift so quickly from killing to tinkering, perhaps she was no better than Cedar.

  He was watching her, though not, it seemed, with judging eyes. He simply waited for an answer to his question.

  “I modified it to be self-loading.” Kali lifted the rifle.

  “Do you do custom work for people?”

  “Of course. That’s how I scrape together enough money to buy bacon and flour. It’s also, I suspect, the main reason nobody’s tried seriously to drive me out of town. I’m useful.”

  Cedar nodded. “I’d be interested in some of those smoke nuts.”

  “I thought you had no money,” Kali said, thinking she might catch him in a lie.

  He spoke without hesitation. “We’ll win, and then I’ll have one hundred dollars.”

  “Not if we have more delays like this.”

  Cedar squinted at something below. “There’s a woman, too, isn’t there?”

  Kali winced. She had forgotten. “Yes.”

  They picked a route back down the river, following the trail of already-broken snow. Wind gusted through the valley, and powder skidded sideways. With the exertion past, Kali shivered as sweat-dampened skin cooled. She clawed at the moisture that had frozen in her eyelashes and under her nose.

  The woman was nowhere in sight. Cedar gestured, and they split up to see if she was hiding behind the sled. They closed, rifles raised, but nobody hunkered there. Blood dotted the ice, thanks to her smoke nut, but not enough to imply a mortal wound.

  Cedar followed a set of tracks toward the far shoreline.

  Kali checked the sled for damage. Dents from bullets pockmarked the boiler and smokestack, but none had ruptured a crucial part. Kali patted the side of the sled, glad she had not, in her quest to achieve lightness, skimped too much on the boiler design. If they returned to the trail immediately, they might have a chance at catching up.

  She shoveled coal into the firebox. Cedar trotted out of the trees and rejoined her on the ice.

  “The woman went over the hill.” He pointed. “Back the way they came. I could catch her, but I noticed you preparing to leave.”

  Kali lifted the brake, and the sled rumbled forward, runners scraping on ice. “The race is more important than killing people, however irritating they’ve proven themselves by trying to kill us. If I don’t win that prize money, I’ll be stuck in Moose Hollow forever.” Or until someone succeeded in dragging her off to some crime lord for torture. More than ever, she needed to get out of town.

  “In other words,” Cedar said, jogging beside the sled, “you’d leave me if I went after her.”

  “I’d toss your bag of supplies out so you could make it back to town.”

  “Magnanimous.”

  Kali twitched a shoulder. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself. Besides, she ran away. Unless she’s got an airship waiting for her, we won’t likely see her again before we get back to town.” She gave him a sidelong look. “You didn’t have some specific reason for wanting to capture or kill her, did you?”

  “I doubt she’s anybody important. It’s simply unwise to leave enemies around to take a shot at you another day.”

  As they chugged down the frozen river, Kali continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye. Maybe her previous experiences were making her too suspicious. He had been nothing but helpful so far, and he had not even demanded to know why those bandits attacked her. Whatever his motivations, he was riskinghislife onherquest.

  “Thanks for your help with those bandits,” Kali said. “You’re not as much of an unwelcome burden as I thought you’d be.”

  “That’s…a compliment?” A mischievous glint entered his eyes.

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re a hard woman to win over.”

  “I’m not looking to be won over,” she said. The last time that happened, she ended up losing. Big time.

  “I see.”

  Kali clammed up. She did not want him seeing. She did not want anybody seeing.

  Part IV

  When Kali designed the tent, she had not been thinking of sharing it with anyone, especially not a six-foot-something man with broad shoulders and feet the size of snowshoes. She shifted, trying to figure out how she was going to find enough space in the dug-out hollow to lie down. For the third time, she adjusted her blanket, grimacing at a damp corner. Before leaving, she had worried about being too cold after dark; apparently, she should have worried that keeping the furnace running all night would melt nearby snow. Her next tent would be freestanding, not a lean-to designed to use the sled’s metal frame for support.

  A dog yipped outside. Deep in the forest, a wolf howled in response. Low voices spoke nearby. Kali and Cedar had caught up with several sled teams after dark, and they were camping on a popular beach.

  She shifted again, still looking for a comfortable spot. Her shoulder clunked against the sled, sending a jolt of pain through her. She spewed Han curse words.

  “Don’t say anything,” she told Cedar, who had been watching her with a bland expression that did not quite mask his amusement.


  “What would I say?” He lay parallel to the sled, tucked into some fancy all-in-one bed-blanket-pillow he called a Euklisia Rug.

  “Sorry for being so big?”

  “My size is usually an advantage.”

  “You must not share tents very often,” she muttered.

  “Not often.”

  Kali adjusted her position again, almost knocking their single lantern on the ground. She caught it with a lunge before kerosene could spill. Snow found its way onto her blanket. She sighed, scooping it off.

  Finally, she settled on a spot, her back against the sled, knees scrunched to her chin. Though not comfortable, she did not know Cedar well enough that she wanted any of her body parts touching his body parts. They were both fully clothed, but she had known too many men who took such things as an invitation. Men who would ignore her in town, where there were witnesses ready to tease, got squirrelly notions out on the trail. And Cedar was watching her now, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “Could you make your modifications to the loading mechanism on the 1873 work on the 1890?” he asked.

  Kali blinked. All that thoughtful gazing, and he’d only been thinking about her ability to tinker with weapons? A stab of disappointment went through her. She squashed it. She didn’twanthim thinking of anything else.

  “Maybe,” she said. “May I see it? I haven’t taken apart one of the slide-action ones before.”

  The rifle lay beside him on the blanket. He nudged it her direction.

  She started out examining the firing and loading mechanisms, but ended up simply sliding a wistful hand along the barrel and running a finger over the inlays. Expert engraving decorated the frame on both sides. She held it to the lamplight. A floral scroll ran around the outside while a circle in the middle framed a tree. She squinted. A cedar tree? She supposed that made sense, though… “Who’s MK?” she asked, tapping initials. Given the value of the weapon, she wondered if he had taken it-through force, gambling, or theft-from someone else. Though his clothing and gear were high quality as well, and it all fit him.

  “You don’t think my momma named me Cedar, do you?” he asked.

  “Whatdidyour momma name you?” Maybe if she could get him to answer a simple secret, he would share others. Such as why someone who did not appear to need money was here working for her, possibly for nothing.

  “The loading mechanism,” Cedar said. “What do you think?”

  Kali sighed. So much for sharing secrets.

  She returned the rifle to him. “I’m not sure I’d want to risk damaging it. This is one of the prettiest Winchesters I’ve seen.”

  “Functionality is more important than looks.”

  “That’s not what the boys at Nelly’s say.”

  His lip twitched. “There’s a difference between spending a single encounter with a weapon and spending a lifetime.”

  Kali thought about asking him if he was the sort who preferred lifetimes to single encounters, but it was unlikely anyone who traveled from place to place with nothing more than what was on his back spent more than a few nights with any one person. Besides, it should not matter to her either way.

  “…damn witch wagon,” a raised voice came from the nearest camp. “That girl thinks she’s tall hog at the trough, but she’ll learn better.”

  Someone shushed the speaker. As always, Kali pretended not to hear. Or care.

  “Best get some sleep.” She turned out the lamp. “We’ll need to leave early and get up during the night to add fuel to the fire. If the boiler water freezes, our trip is over.”

  “The witch accusation,” Cedar said, “is because…some of your inventions are too good to be explained by science?”

  Kali’s breath caught in her throat. The mechanical guard dogs. He had realized a coal-powered steam engine could not explain their locomotion.

  She was glad the dark hid the stricken expression that must be stamped on her face. “I don’t know any magic, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “But your father did.”

  Her heart thumped against her ribs. She strove for a casualness to her tone she did not feel. “My father worked with nature’s ores and elements. That’s all.” She drew her legs closer to her chest-farther from him. “And I’m feeling a mite uncomfortable with you knowing things about me that I didn’t tell you.”

  “If those bounty hunters were after what I think, I reckon a lot of people know things about you that you didn’t tell.”

  “If that’s supposed to alleviate my uncomfortable state, it failed.”

  “Better for your future safety if you don’t face the world too comfortably.”

  Now she wished she had not cut off the lamp, so she could read his face. She licked her lips. Her mouth was dry. “That sounds like a threat, Mister Cedar.”

  “If you believed I was a threat to you, you wouldn’t be sharing a tent with me.”

  “I’m not sure what I believe about you, but I certainly don’t trust you.”

  A long moment passed before he replied. “You’re right not to trust easily when it comes to folks you don’t share blood with. It’s not wise.”

  “No. It isn’t.” Kali thought of Sebastian. If she had not been so quick to trust him, she would not have people hunting her now.

  Cedar’s voice dropped so low she barely heard his next words: “And even those you share blood with…will disappoint you sometimes.”

  Kali leaned closer to him. It was the first time he had hinted of his past. “Did some kin of yours betray you?”

  A soft, rueful chuckle whispered through the dark tent. “Only by not being perfect.”

  “Who was it? Did they…get you in trouble? Or get themselves into trouble?”

  “Hegot himself killed,” Cedar said, the humor gone from his tone.

  “Oh, sorry. Was it-”

  “The end of the conversation? Yes.”

  Kali scowled, feeling like someone had offered her a lamp on a dark night, then yanked it away as she reached for it. She crossed her arms over her chest. It did not matter. What did she care about his past anyway?

  A soft crunch sounded outside.

  “Sh,” Cedar whispered.

  Kali sensed rather than heard him rise to a crouch. She groped in the darkness and cracked her knuckles against metal before finding her rifle. She patted around, trying to find the smoke nut case, but the sound of muffled voices made her pause.

  “…do to it?” a man asked.

  “Let the water out of the boiler?” another said.

  Kali’s hand tightened around the rifle. The bastards meant to sabotage her. Before wiser thoughts could enter her mind, she shoved the tent flap aside and strode into the night.

  Cold air blasted her bare cheeks and hands, and seared her lungs. Foolish to run outside without more clothing on, but she did not intend for this to take long.

  She expected a pair of men she could scare off by confronting them. But six figures stood, silhouetted by the night sky. Swaddled in furs and coats, they were impossible to identify, though there was no mystery about the long rifles held in their hands.

  “I’ll take kindly to you leaving my sled alone, gentlemen.” Kali glanced over her shoulder, hoping Cedar had followed her out.

  No one stood behind her.

  “Don’t think so, ma’am,” one said. The voice sounded familiar, but he spoke in a low, gruff tone, as if to disguise it.

  “Witch,” someone in the back muttered.

  “Your monstrosity wasn’t supposed to make it this far,” the first speaker, probably the ringleader, said. “We’re not letting some machine win the money. It should be a man’s sweat and skill what earns that prize.”

  She stamped her feet and flexed her fingers on the rifle. Already they were growing numb. “Isn’t it your dogs sweating and doing all the work?”

  “Dogs with a lot of time gone into training them. And it’s a man’s skill maneuvering the team. No machine can replace a good musher.”

&
nbsp; While he spoke, two men moved away from the group. They angled toward her sled. She raised her rifle, and though she did not point it at them, she found the trigger and rested her fingertip on it.

  “Stop.” Kali put all the steel she could muster into her voice, hoping they would not call her bluff.

  For all that she loved her sled, she did not think she could shoot a man to defend metal. And even if she could, the others would open fire on her as soon as she tried. They might not normally shoot a woman, but if they thought her a-

  “Stand back, witch,” the leader said.

  Kali slid sideways to block the sled. “No.”

  “What do we do, boss?” one of the closest two said. “I don’t want to hurt a girl.”

  “Shove her out of the way, and tear up that-” The leader stiffened.

  A dark shadow loomed behind him. Night cloaked its features, but Kali smiled, recognizing the height.

  “Drop your weapons,” Cedar said, voice so soft and dangerous she almost obeyed herself.

  Chinks sounded as two mendidobey, and their rifles hit the ice.

  The leader growled. “Who’s asking?” but his voice quavered.

  “The man with a sword at your back. Drop your rifle and tell your cronies to do the same. And I’m notasking.”

  “You might want to take his advice,” Kali said. “He killed four bandits this afternoon. He’s very good.”

  “There’s just one of you and six of us,” the leader said.

  “Two of us,” Cedar said. “You know about the special modifications she’s made to her Winchester?”

  Nobody answered. Kali lifted her chin and puffed out her chest, trying to appear imposing.

  A frosty breeze buffeted her cheeks and needled her numb fingers. She wondered how long she could hold the imposing stance without running inside to wrap her arms around the boiler.

  “You know you’re sticking up for a witch?” the leader finally asked. “Her mother was a deranged medicine woman who shot herself. Her father was a crazy-”

  “Your weapons.” Cedar kicked the leader’s legs out from beneath him and stepped on the man’s back, sword tip pressed into his neck. One-handed, he aimed his rifle at someone who presumed to turn toward him. “I won’t ask again.”