Lockhart's Legacy (Vespari Lockhart Book 1) (29 page)

Cautiously, she approached the little structure. There were no windows to peer through and no other way to tell what was inside, but it made sense for the miners to store the explosives in such an isolated place. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the doorknob and pried it open.

True to her suspicions, she discovered that the small building was indeed where they stored such things. There were a couple stacks of crates, some barrels, big and small, and some glass jars with some thick orange substance inside. The top crate on one of the stacks had been pried open, and inside, Wynonna found more than a dozen sticks of dynamite. They would certainly do the trick, but that wasn’t what she was looking for. She leaned down to examine the barrels. Just as with the crate, the miners had left one lid open, and inside was exactly what she needed. Black powder. The barrels were small enough that she could carry them, though she was scared just thinking about moving such a quantity of a combustible material around.

All the same, she needed to do it. Wynonna selected a barrel that looked better sealed than the rest, picked it up, and moved it outside. As she did, she spotted a cart at the top of the silver mine. She stopped a moment, thinking again about how to lure the revenant to where she needed him. If he was after treasures, then actual silver had to be of interest to him.

Wynonna wasn’t sure how mindless the Gentleman and his ghouls were. They hadn’t shown any signs of intelligence. All the revenant seemed to care for was his treasures. She wasn’t sure if he would follow a trail into such an obvious trap, but she could think of little else to lure him into the smithy.

She set the barrel of black powder down and went to inspect the cart. As she expected, chunks of silver sat in the cart. It was at the very end of its rails though, which meant that she would have to lift it off the tracks if she wanted to use it. Wynonna found a stray metal pipe lying around and used it to pry the cart from the tracks, feeling the wound in her gut tear and shoot pain through her body.

The mine cart wasn’t completely full of silver, which was the only reason she was able to lift it off the rails. Even still, it took a great deal of strain to do so. And once she did, it wasn’t easy to push along the desert ground without a track to follow. With each step forward, the wound in her gut ached, but all the same, she made do. Once she’d pushed the cart back to where she’d found the small barrel of black powder, she picked it up and gently placed it inside with the nuggets of silver.

Having everything from the mine she thought she needed, Wynonna started toward the smithy. She didn’t get far, however, before stopping and turning back to look at that little shed of explosives. Sighing, she left her cart there for the moment and returned to the crates and barrels. Wynonna didn’t know what exactly she might need, so she grabbed two of the sticks of dynamite and returned to her cart, dropping them down inside with the barrel and ore. Satisfied, she started once more toward the smithy.

Pushing her supplies through the town, she paused every few feet to lean into the cart and pull out a chunk of silver. She would then toss it aside, leaving a clear trail for the revenant and his ghouls to follow. She kept going this way until she arrived at the smithy, covered in sweat and near exhausted by pushing the heavy cart. She lifted up her shirt to see blood soaked through the towel covering her wound. Wynonna knew she needed to have someone stitch up the gunshot, but she didn’t have time for that. The revenant came first.

Looking down into her cart, she found that there was still a good deal of silver left in the bottom. She wanted to get it inside the smithy, so she could draw the revenant all the way inside. Luckily, there was a ramp up that the blacksmith must’ve used for a similar purpose, and Wynonna took a deep breath before pushing the cart a little further, getting it up the ramp and then inside the smithy. Once it was in there, she removed the barrel of black powder, placing it on the ground. She took the two sticks of dynamite and placed them in her back pocket, and finally, she pushed the cart so that it was near to the still burning fire.

With the cart in place, Wynonna then focused on the powder. She pried the top off and started to disperse it throughout the smithy. Due to its explosive nature, she was very careful about where to place it, keeping it away from where the fire might naturally flicker. As she was spreading the powder, Wynonna heard the sound of footsteps outside the smithy, so she stifled her breaths as she went to peer out the window.

Not only had the Gentleman followed her trail of silver, but more than a dozen of the revenant’s ghouls accompanied him. She found herself entirely surrounded by them inside a building on the verge of exploding.

“This’ll be fun,” she muttered to herself.

***

“Enough, Alviva,” Petronila said. “I’ve had enough of you.”

Alviva turned around and glared at the slender beldam. “What did you say to me, you little worm?”

Petronila rose up, revealing her full height. She towered over the other beldams, and she stretched her arms out to further show her size. “This is my spellwork! My power! Your ego will not get in the way of my plans! This ends now! You will do what I say!”

The beldam then slapped her hands together, and Lockhart vanished from that dreamscape. Though the slender, scheming beldam had released him, that didn’t mean he was out of danger yet. There was still the concern of the Gentleman and his ghouls. Lockhart jerked up from the dream, expecting to see the creatures all around him, but instead, darkness enshrouded him. He saw only a small crack of light. More concerning was the breathing he heard. It wasn’t Wynonna’s, and it was close.

“You… you awake?” a timid voice asked him.

Lockhart shifted toward the voice. “Who’s there?”

He heard more movement, and then the sound of metal. More light poured over him, as a door was pushed open to just a crack. It was enough for him to see a scared man with a white apron draped over him. Lockhart could also see out to the room beyond. A barbershop. Why was he in a barbershop?

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Where’s Wynonna?”

“The woman?” the barber asked. “The other vespari?”

Lockhart nodded.

“She left you with me. She… she told me to tell you she went to the smithy.”

“The sm-smithy? Where’s that?”

The barber pointed. “Only a few streets down. Big sign. Can’t miss it.”

Lockhart leaned against the wall, using it to help him stand up. The bite in his arm ached, and his elbow nearly gave out as he used the arm to brace himself.

“What are you going to do?” the man asked.

“G-go after her.”

The barber nodded. “I’ll stay here then.”

“Mm,” Lockhart murmured, leaving the closet.

As the vespari continued toward the door, he heard the latch of the closet behind him. He could understand the man’s fear if the barber had seen the revenant or ghouls. Looking to the street, however, Lockhart saw nothing. Stepping onto the front steps of the barbershop, he still didn’t spot any of the creatures. How long had he been out? The sun looked to have only moved a small amount. Little under an hour, he guessed.

What then had caused such a silence in those streets? No screams, no gunshots. He decided only Wynonna would have the answers he sought, so he turned in the direction the barber had indicated and started toward the smithy.

He soon passed the silver mine, and that’s when he spotted something unusual. Lockhart saw a grouping of footprints. Ghouls. A lot of them. But not just them. He saw the grooves where wheels had scraped along the ground. Heavy, judging by the depth of the tracks. For whatever reason, the ghouls had followed the same path.

Knowing he would need a weapon, Lockhart knelt down to retrieve his knife. To his surprise, he found it missing. Wynonna, he hoped, but this made him defenseless against the creatures. Regardless, him being without a weapon wasn’t enough to change the situation. He still had to press on.

Looking forward to where the tracks lead, he hoped to find the end of the trail. Unfortunately, the tracks turned down a street, cutting off his line of sight. Wary of what he might find at the end, however, he stood up and kept going but moved quietly so as not to draw any unwanted attention.

Approaching the turn in the street, Lockhart moved to the building at the corner and peered around it. Only three buildings down, he found what he was looking for. The smithy was not hard to pick out. A large group of ghouls had assembled outside it, and even the revenant was among their numbers. They weren’t moving though. Just standing there, staring into the smithy. Seemingly mesmerized.

Lockhart squinted to try to get a better look at what they all focused on. Glittering on the ground, on the ramp, and on the floorboards leading into the smithy, the vespari saw something. Silver? And it looked like someone had left a series of them there, like a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.

Had Wynonna left a trail for them? Did she have a trap inside that smithy? If so, it didn’t look like they’d fallen for it. And that still left the question of where Wynonna was. He had to find her before he could do anything to help her.

***

Wynonna searched the whole building. There was one entrance in the front and one exit in the back. Both had a group of ghouls standing by it. There was also a second floor where the blacksmith seemed to live, which she currently used to survey the situation. Sitting by a window, she looked out to the front group.

The ghouls and the Gentleman there all just looked on, refusing to enter the smithy. She hadn’t fooled them, it seemed, but they couldn’t resist either. They knew there was silver inside the building. She’d left the cart in full view from the front door. It wasn’t enough though. If she couldn’t get them inside, then none of it mattered. Maybe she just needed to provoke them. That she could do. Provocation came natural to her.

Reaching into her back pocket, Wynonna grabbed one of the two sticks of dynamite she’d brought. She then stuck her hand into her front pocket to grab the lighter she’d bought. Only when her fingers were met with nothing but the fabric of her jeans did she remember losing it in the blaze at the silver mine office. So much for that purchase. All she had left was the bottle of replacement fluid, and it wasn’t going to do her any good. Nor did she have any matches, having used the last to take care of the ettin. She briefly considered going downstairs and using the flames burning there to light the dynamite. That was too reckless even for her, however, given she’d littered the downstairs with the black powder. One stray spark and the whole place would go up.

Instead, she looked around the upstairs. Beside the bed, on a nightstand, Wynonna spotted a lamp similar to the one she’d cracked over the Gentleman’s head. Thinking of that brought a smile to her face, but an unlit lantern wouldn’t help her. The nightstand had a drawer though. Maybe the blacksmith had kept matches nearby.

Moving to the bedside, Wynonna pulled the drawer open and started rooting around in its contents. He’d clearly been a disorganized hoarder, but among everything else in there, she did find a box of matches. Pulling them out, she felt they had some heft to them. Upon opening the box, she saw the blacksmith had hardly even used them yet. Wynonna picked up one of the matches, closed the box, and moved back to the open window to peer out at the creatures below.

None of the undead monsters seemed to have moved. The Gentleman still stood in the middle of his group of ghouls, staring at the smithy. They hadn’t yet taken notice of her up above, but that seemed likely to change, given what she was about to do. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself. She knew the risks, but she didn’t care. The revenant had to die, and if it meant she went with him, then it would be a good enough death for her. Wynonna struck the match against the box, held it to the wick on the stick of dynamite, leaned her whole body out the window, and threw the dynamite right to the Gentleman’s feet.

***

Leaning against the side of the building, Lockhart stared at this group of ghouls. He’d never seen a revenant or its minions exhibit this kind of behavior before, and he didn’t even know what enamored them so. As he watched, however, he saw something red fall from the second story of the smithy. He looked up to find Wynonna leaning out of the window. She immediately ducked back inside the building and dropped out of sight.

Looking back down at the ground where the red object had fallen, he found it to be on fire. Dynamite. Mimicking Wynonna’s behavior, Lockhart too ducked back behind the building he’d been using for concealment.

The dynamite exploded just as he did so. Grimacing through the noise and chaos she’d created, he was at least appreciative that he’d found Wynonna. Unfortunately, she was still inside the smithy. And, she had dynamite. A dangerous combination if he’d ever seen one.

Lockhart looked back around the corner of the building. The explosion had scattered body parts everywhere, and a trail of smoke floated up in the sky. She’d killed the Gentleman, that was clear, but he’d already reconstituted himself into a new body. He pointed to the building, and his remaining ghouls charged in. The Gentleman, however remained where he was, refusing to enter the smithy. The vespari could even see that some of the revenant’s ghouls were coming in through the back way. If she didn’t get out of there, Wynonna was about to be ripped to pieces.