“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 men
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 not
“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.”
The leader cursed under his breath, but could do little while pressed flat against the ice. He opened his fingers, and his rifle dropped into the snow. More weapons followed.
Kali let out a relieved breath.
Cedar stepped back. “Leave.”
The leader started to rise and reach for his rifle. Cedar’s boot came down on his wrist. “We’ll keep your weapons.”
“What? There are wolves and bandits out here. You can’t-”
“Tough.”
The other men stirred, trading muttered comments. Kali grimaced. That might be the straw that-
The two men near her lunged for their dropped rifles. She jumped at the closest and slammed the butt of her Winchester against his head. He staggered back, hands empty, but the second man wrapped his fingers around his rifle. He lifted it her direction.
She skittered back, but the sled blocked an escape. A shot rang out. She ducked, sure she was too late, that a bullet would slam into her chest. Instead her attacker’s rifle flew from his grip. He screamed and clutched his hand.
Kali did not hear the clack of Cedar loading a new round, not with the man hollering, but the expelled shell glinted, reflecting moonlight, before it hit the snow. His sword quivered where he had thrust it downward, pinning the leader to the ground.
“Shit.” The man she had clubbed grabbed his wounded comrade. “Come on, Ralph.”
The pinned man squirmed too vigorously for the sword to have pierced anything vital, but his curses promised he did not appreciate his helplessness.
Cedar yawned and pulled his blade free. The leader rolled away-far away. He made no move toward his rifle. He and the others scurried away, heading into the trees instead of toward the camps on the beach. Maybe they did not want Cedar being able to identify them the next day. Somehow, Kali doubted he would have a problem.
He joined her by the sled. Her teeth were chattering, but she refused to go into the tent until the last man disappeared from view.
“Thanks,” she said. It sounded inane, too small a modicum of gratitude for all the help he had given her, but she still had too many questions about him to offer him more.
“So,” Cedar said, tone light. “You think I’m ‘very good,’ eh?”
“I just wanted those dunderheads to believe they were swimming in water too deep.”
“Hm, then you
“You’re decent.”
“My ego is in danger of wilting under your unrelenting lack of appreciation.”
“This is the Yukon. Women here are hard to impress.”
“I’ve heard gold usually does the job.”
“You haven’t offered me any gold,” Kali said.
“Somehow I suspect you’d prefer a tool set.”
True, but gold would get her out of this frozen hell sooner. “Make the tools gold-plated, and I might swoon.”
He chuckled. The men had disappeared, and Kali could barely feel her fingers. Time to go inside.
She lifted the tent flap, but paused when something blotted out the moonlight. She expected a cloud, but no. The dark silhouette of an airship rode across the sky, its great hull and oblong balloon creating distinctive shapes against the stars.
Kali’s gut twisted. Airships were almost as rare as palm trees up here, and she would normally love to see one, but she doubted that crew had come to offer her a tour. At least not the type of tour where one got off at the end.
“Pirates,” Cedar said.
He drew her into the shadow of the sled as the ship sailed overhead. Lanterns burned on the bow and deck, revealing several men peering over the side with spyglasses. Kali barely breathed as they passed. Though the shadows might hide her and Cedar, her sled was unmistakable.
The airship disappeared behind the hills. She and Cedar stood in silence for several moments, breaths frosting the air, but the vessel did not return. The soft chattering of her teeth must have drawn Cedar’s attention for he gazed down at her, then gave her a gentle push toward the tent.
“They probably won’t bother us with so many others around,” he said.
Kali shoved aside the flap and ducked inside. “Others that would be happy to help them on their quest if it meant getting rid of me.”
“Perhaps.” Cedar followed her. “But the pirates don’t know that.”
“Lucky me.”
Kali laid on her side in the dark. She pulled her knees to her chest and shivered, as much from the situation as the cold.
The insults from the superstitious townsfolk always gouged her soul, but she had grown accustomed to them. Being stalked by bounty hunters and airship pirates? That was new and depressing. If she won the race, she might escape the town, but would gangsters continue to send minions after her? How far would they follow her? Across borders? Over oceans?
She closed her eyes. She could not hate her father for inventing flash gold, but she did hate him sometimes for leaving her alone. Moisture pricked her eyes. She blinked rapidly. She had not cried since her mother died, and she would not start now.
Clothing rustled behind her as Cedar settled down. The fact that she had company-a witness-was another reason to hold herself together.
A hand rested on her arm. “You all right?”
“Fine,” Kali said, torn between being annoyed that she appeared to need comfort and appreciating that someone was bothering to give it.
He draped a blanket over her and laid behind her, his back to hers. The warmth was…not unwelcome.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
“This doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“Naturally.”
She smiled faintly and closed her eyes.
