Bulletproof Witch Read online

Understanding came to her like a thunderclap. “You thought I was sweet on you?”

  “Sweet?”

  “Yeah, as in . . . well, you know.” Temperance rolled her hand in a vague way, unsure how to explain. This was rather far removed from her area of expertise. She coughed and tried again. “William, listen. You seem like a nice enough fellow, but we hardly know each other. Nothing good ever comes of jumping in feet first with a person you just met, especially out here on the trail.”

  An image of Peter flashed through her mind, his hair combed and his teeth sparkling white as he stood in front of the Harmonist’s bonfire. He held out his hand to her.

  She pushed the memory back down, punching it a few times as well for good measure. “Besides, don’t you think you’re a bit young for me?”

  William nodded and gave a sad smile. “I will be sixteen in a few more days, remember?”

  “Exactly. Why, I would practically be robbing the cradle. Trust me, you’ll meet far more interesting folk than me when you get to Messanai. A strapping young man such as yourself will be buried in courting requests, just you wait.”

  Not knowing what else to say, Temperance dug into her pack looking for food. After a minute or so William settled down next to her. The tension eased out of the moment, and together they sat on the rock, eating a cold breakfast while the sun climbed higher.

  Once the last of their meal was gone, Temperance wiped a hand on her skirt. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll let you keep an eye out for any unwanted visitors.”

  “I can do that. What about you?”

  “Me?” Temperance pulled a blanket from one of the bags. “I only want two things right now: a strong drink and a long nap. Since I don’t have the first one, I’ll settle for the second.”

  * * *

  It was early afternoon when Temperance awoke. They untied the horses, setting off before she had finished wiping sleep from her eyes. While the sun crept towards the distant horizon, the land gradually changed. First the plants grew tall and springy, the soil softer. A smell of seaweed and brackish water coiled around them until it clung to Temperance’s nostrils and left poor William gagging. She handed the boy a cloth to cover his face, and they rode on.

  “We’ll need to find a place to camp near the river, then we’ll cross at first light. Think you can handle the stench for a bit longer?”

  “I hope so.” William gave a hacking cough, lifted the bandana, and spat to one side. “Could we not have gone around as Mister Dunpeal suggested? I am beginning to question the wisdom of this route.”

  “Hey, and here I figured you were eager to get to Sweetwater before that saw-toothed psychopath caught back up with us.”

  “You think he is still alive?”

  Temperance shrugged. “I did my best to make sure the spell would hold until daylight, but there’s always a chance it failed, or that he made it back to the cave in time, or a hundred other factors I didn’t consider.”

  “What will you do if he returns?”

  “Find a way to get rid of him. For good this time, if possible.” She tapped her chin and thought for a moment. “How did he find you, anyway? We weren’t exactly hiding our trail as we went, but someone as pompous as Lucius doesn’t strike me as a born tracker.”

  “I did not tell you?” William looked surprised.

  “You haven’t told me a lot of things, what’s one more on the pile?”

  The boy glanced at her, then lurched forward to grip the horn of his saddle as the horse navigated a loamy patch of soil. Once he had loosened his death grip, he continued, “Upyr have heightened senses. Beyond their speed, they can hear over long distances, and detect scents better than a . . . vrothund?” He paused and frowned. “Do you have this animal here? They are like those beasts that attacked us on the Dunpeal farm, but trained for hunting. Men use them to track small game in the forests.”

  “In my experience, most dogs are natural born hunters, I don’t think that changes much from one breed to the next. So you’re saying that Lucius can find you by smell? How are you expecting to hide from him in the city?”

  “Truthfully, I never expected him to set foot in Korvana at all. He has already violated enough of upyr law that he may never be able to return to Isterial. I can only hope he gives up once I am hidden among my own kind.”

  This comment set off an itch in Temperance’s head. She mentally scratched at it a moment before she realized what was bothering her. “You mentioned something similar right after the first attack. Why would Lucius—or any upyr—fear to come to Korvana? Hell, what’s stopping them from coming here and rounding up every person on the southern coast?”

  She suddenly remembered her dreams of black ships sailing away from a shattered Arkton. Now in her mind’s eye the ships became filled with crying Korvanans cowering on the decks as hungry upyr stood guard, tongues running over razor-sharp teeth.

  I wonder if that’s what my vision meant, when Grandpa said he hadn’t prepared us enough for what was coming. Was he afraid of these upyr? Could he have been trying to— Temperance paused, shaking her head at her own foolishness. Look at me, falling for a bunch of words in a dream. A dream that was nothing more than a bit too much whiskey and stress at that.

  William started to open his mouth, but paused as his eyes turned upwards. Temperance followed his gaze and saw a line of smoke drifting over the tops of the scraggly trees. Through the branches she made out a ring of wagons sitting on a dry hillock.

  Harmonists? The wagons don’t look colorful enough for that, though. She frowned and reined in her horse. Maybe they haven’t had time to paint them yet. Can’t imagine anyone else would be out here off the beaten path, unless—

  Realization shot through her like a spike of ice. At that same moment William gave a little holler of joy and kicked his horse to a gallop. Temperance hadn’t even realized the boy knew how to do that. He grinned as he looked back at her. “It looks as if we will have a fire tonight after all!”

  “William, don’t!” It was too late. The boy disappeared through the trees. Temperance cursed and urged her own horse forward.

  She burst onto the hillock, not certain what she would find but reaching for one of her revolvers just in case. William stood within the circle of wagons, already dismounted, talking with a man standing nearby. He turned as Temperance rode up.

  “We are in luck! These men were about to sit down for their dinner. They said we can join them.”

  “Oh, we insist.” The man next to William turned. It was Matthew, the last survivor of the bandits that had robbed the Dunpeal family. He smiled at her. One of his teeth had turned black, and he ran a tongue over it. “In fact, when the boss saw you were coming, he made sure to pull out all the stops. Ah, here he is now!”

  Temperance had her revolver out, was already leveling it towards Matthew before he even finished speaking. William opened his mouth, his expression one of surprise and shock, but any words that made it out were lost over the roar inside of Temperance’s own head.

  “That’s enough there, Girlie.” The voice came from behind her, accompanied by a rumble of thunder as men readied their guns. “Drop your weapons now, or this don’t end well for you.”

  She risked a glance over her shoulder. Richard Whittaker, the man from the bridge, stood at the treeline, a dozen men around him armed with rifles or the odd pistol. A glance back showed at least as many men peeking out from wagons or crouched behind overturned barrels.

  Temperance considered her options. There weren’t any that didn’t end with both her and William dead one way or the other. Surrender would only put off the inevitable a short while, of that she had little doubt. Still, a small chance was better than none.

  “Alright, give me a minute.” She dropped her revolver, slowly drew the second one, and tossed it a few feet away.

  “Good, glad to see you’ve got some sense to you. Drop your knife too. Don’t try telling me you haven’t got one, either, we’re not that stupid.”

  T
he hunting knife joined her revolver at the horse’s feet. Richard Whittaker smiled and stepped closer. “Come on down now, Girlie. We don’t bite.”

  “That’s the one I was telling you ‘bout, Boss!” Matthew yelled. At some point he had drawn his own knife and had it held to William’s face. The Isterial boy had gone from confused to full blown panic. Sweat stains spread across his shirt, and his hands held his bag in a white-knuckled grip.

  “Is it now?” Richard gave Temperance a more critical look. “I’ll be! Aren’t you that slip of a thing that wrecked the bridge over near Alfalfa? I thought you were dead for sure.”

  Temperance glared at the man. He shrugged and continued, “Looks like you’ve done alright for yourself since then. I bet you’ve got the farmers in the valley here to thank for that. You know how many of my men you killed with that little stunt?”

  “You expecting an apology or something?” Temperance spat at the man’s feet. “Your men are a bunch of scrum. They got what was coming to them.”

  Richard’s expression didn’t change, but his fist swung around and connected with the side of Temperance’s face. Her head exploded in pain, and stinging heat crawled up her cheek. The bandit leader didn’t give her a moment to recover, but grabbed her by the arm and started walking through the camp.

  “I had been planning to burn down that spineless ixtl farmer’s home for the trouble he caused me, but now I’ve got a better idea. I think I’ll let you two watch while I torture him and his family. Make sure everybody else in the valley knows not to mess with the Gunpowder Gang. Well, what’d you say ‘bout that, Girlie? Sound fun?”

  He didn’t give Temperance a chance to respond. A foot connected with her bad leg, bringing her screaming to the ground. Rough hands pulled the jacket from her back, and others bound her arms and legs with rope. Someone dropped to the ground next to her, and Temperance listened, helpless, as they bound William as well.

  A moment later the men lifted her upright. They tied her to the remnants of an old tree, its bark brittle and flaking with age. Richard watched his men work with a nasty sneer on his face.

  “No more magick tricks from you tonight.” The bandit leader picked up Temperance’s jacket and pulled it on. He grinned at her. “How do I look?”

  “Like you want to die slow and painful, that’s how.”

  “If anybody is dying slow, it’ll be you, Girlie. Maybe if you beg real nice, I’ll kill your friend here quick-like. As a favor.” The bandit leader grinned wider.

  The edges of Temperance’s vision blurred red. She strained against the ropes, but it was no good. They were trapped.

  Richard laughed. “Struggle all you two like, won’t make no difference. I’ll see you in the morning. Then we can get to the real fun.”

  He turned to his men, who were pawing through Temperance’s bag. “Toss that in the wagon, we’ll get it divvied up between the men tomorrow. Tonight is time to celebrate. Have Dale break out one of the good casks.”

  “Sure thing, Boss.” The men left the gear where Temperance could see it, but didn’t have a hope of reaching. She slumped back against the tree, frustration seething beneath the surface of her skin.

  “Temperance.” William’s voice was soft. He sounded on the verge of tears. “I am sorry. If I had not rushed ahead—”

  “If you hadn’t, they would have sprung their ambush on us, anyway. We didn’t have a chance, not with the ground here too soft for hard riding. Nothing to apologize for.”

  The tree bark scraped against Temperance’s skin. She shifted about, trying to find a better position.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “This is my fault. I should have known there would be consequences for killing those bandits. Should have realized I needed to find their nest and finish the job. Instead, I was so wrapped up in my own problems I didn’t consider the whole picture. Now we’re in this mess, and so’s the Dunpeal family, to boot.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We wait. If we’re lucky, they’ll all get so drunk tonight that no one’s watching us. Then it’s only a matter of . . . .”

  She trailed off. A shiver ran through her.

  No, not now! Come on, anything but that. Hellfire and damnation, anything but that right now!

  “Temperance?”

  She didn’t respond to William’s question. Could hardly force herself to breathe. Everything around her faded to a dull hum. At that moment she couldn’t have moved even if the bandits had cut her bonds and driven her from the camp.

  Instead she sat there, helpless, while fiery heat spread along her spine, the feeling of it painful and achingly familiar.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Temperance stumbled to her feet. The rope holding her to the tree followed, but wouldn’t go any higher than her waist. She let out a growl, trying to tug it back and forth. The rope refused to yield.

  Is this really how it’s going to end? Tied to a tree like a baited animal? The Divines sure have a cruel sense of humor—or a particularly good sense of irony.

  “Temperance, are you alright?” William sounded concerned. It would have been endearing if the situation wasn’t so dire.

  “No, I’m not alright, we’ve got a problem. My horse is on his way here.”

  “What?” William shifted, trying to look out over the wagons. The sound of men’s laughter floated through the evening air, but none of the bandits were in sight. Richard must not have been too concerned about escape attempts. “I do not see any—ow! What are you doing?”

  Temperance had managed to bring her legs up against the tree, straining against the rope binding them until she wanted to scream.

  “Old rope like this can’t hold forever. Just got to apply . . . a little more . . . pressure . . . .”

  She heaved against their bonds, pushing for all she was worth. On the other side William squawked as the rope bit into his skin. At last Temperance sagged back, breathing heavy.

  “Just let me catch my wind and I’ll . . . try again. Perhaps if we both attempt it this time?”

  “Is there not another way? One that does not involve cutting me in half?”

  “Quit being a baby, it’ll hurt a lot less than what those bandits have planned for us. Now c’mon. We haven’t got long before all Hell breaks loose.”

  A piercing shriek rent the air. The bandit’s laughter cut off as if someone had clamped a hand onto their throats. Another shriek followed, deafening in the silence. The camp erupted into action as men rose and ran to the edge of the firelight.

  Temperance glanced in William’s direction. “It’s now or never!”

  Several precious seconds passed before Temperance found the right position. She wobbled against the tree precariously. Behind her, William grunted and moved about.

  “Now, push!” she called.

  The rope tightened painfully against her skin, but still showed no signs of yielding. Temperance pushed harder, until her eyes bulged and she thought her arms might snap from the effort.

  “I am sorry.” William’s voice was thick and labored. “I do not think . . . I can go any further.”

  “Keep trying. It’s either that or wait for that monster to tear us a new—”

  CRACK.

  William gave a yelp, and Temperance flailed as the tree’s resistance fell away, pitching her into open air. She hit the ground in a spray of loamy soil, her head sinking into the muck. Pinpricks of light washed over the back of her eyelids.

  C’mon, get up! She screamed at herself. That monster will be here any moment!

  After wiping the mud away with the back of her hand, Temperance opened her eyes and found William beside her, standing but with hands still bound. Her own were likewise encumbered.

  On the other side of the wagons several men ran about, calling to each other and pointing at the treeline. Anything further remained hidden behind the caravan. Easy to guess what they were looking at, though.

  She jogged to the nearest wagon, praying that the horse-beast and the bandits
could see fit to occupy each other’s attention a little while longer, and started awkwardly pawing through her possessions.

  “Dammit! Where did he put it?” She tossed her bag to the ground and started kicking items out of it. A small frying pan, several sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper, and a blanket the Dunpeal family had given her. Nothing that had an edge to it. She cursed again.

  “What are you looking for?” William asked.

  “My knife, or barring that, a sharp tin can. We won’t get very far with these ropes holding us together.”

  “Hand me my bag.”

  Temperance tossed the bag into William’s lap. The boy grunted as he worked the clasp, then withdrew the immense sword Temperance had seen before.

  “Hey, isn’t that—”

  “Sword, attack ropes!” William flinched as the sword leapt from his hands. It hovered in the air for a moment, then swung in a full circle.

  “William!” Temperance leapt forward, but paused as the sword clattered to the ground. The boy pulled his hands apart, the rope falling away in pieces.

  “As I said before, it only attacks the wielder. Which, in this case, is what I actually wanted.” He tapped his chin. “Perhaps I could make a dagger that could do the same thing? It would have been useful when Lucius had me bound in that cave.”

  “I think you’re lucky it didn’t take off one of your fingers. Now get me out of these ropes already!”

  The boy tugged at her bindings as another trumpeting shriek came from behind them. Temperance glanced over her shoulder and saw the horse-beast emerge from the trees. It swept out a spider-like leg, impaling a bandit before retreating. The remaining men peppered it with shots, but they didn’t appear to even distract the monster.

  She turned back as the rope slipped free. “Grab our gear and start running for the river. I shouldn’t be more than a minute or two behind you.”

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “Richard Whittaker still has my Grandpa’s coat. I can afford to leave my other gear behind, but not that. Now, run until you can’t hear the fighting anymore. Count five hundred breaths, and if I’m not there by then, go on without me. You might have trouble crossing the river, but you do that and you’re as good as free. Go on now, get going!”