The Wolf Tree (16 page)

“That’s the one.” Mother Salagi opened the lid and shook the silvery powder into the palm of her hand. “Magnetic sand,” she mumbled. “From a lodestone. The pure opposite to the stone a-buried in your father’s hand here. Let me see yond coney foot.” She held out her gnarled hand across the table.

Sally reached into her dress and took out the rabbit’s foot to give it to Mother Salagi. Mother Josara and Mother Vastapol moved closer to her to watch as the old seer held up the foot in the firelight.

Mother Salagi turned the foot in her palm as she coated it with the sand. When it was all covered, she held the foot before her with both hands. Sally watched in awe as the sand darkened until it became the deepest inky black. The light in the room dimmed, as if the powder was drawing all luminescence from the world.

The old seer hissed, “Look on, Mothers! The sand’s a-turning. The Darkness. Yond Darkness to blacken the fairest heart! Help me.”

Josara and Vastapol reached out to cup their hands around Mother Salagi’s. Only their eyes glowed with the faint
cinders from the hearth, and they began muttering and chanting together.

Mother Vastapol said, “The Machine continues to corrupt the Gloaming.”

“You see the Machine?” Nel asked.

The seers did not look up, their eyes locked on the rabbit’s foot, their hands clutching it together.

“It will corrupt us all!” Mother Josara gasped. “All of us who depend on the Gloaming. The Gloaming is a part of our world, too, a part of each being that lives and breathes.”

“Yes, there it is!” Mother Salagi said. “It’s a-ruining us. Some as more than others, but yea in the end, it’ll take us one and all.”

Buck cocked his head, letting his silver-streaked locks fall across his face. Si gripped the table. Sally watched the rabbit’s foot as the powder made the foot disappear entirely into shadow. She feared that the foot had vanished altogether, until she saw a dull light illuminate the faces of the seers.

Then slowly the powder changed color again. What began as a bloody crimson grew and brightened into a fiery orange, lighter than the foot’s golden hue, until it beamed a startling white.

Sally drew back away from the table. Mother Vastapol gave out a wail and released her hand, panting and collapsing into a chair. Josara backed away, clutching a hand to her throat.

With trembling fingers, Mother Salagi quickly wiped the sand from the rabbit’s foot, extinguishing the light, and sifted the powder back through her palm into the jar.

“What did you see?” Nel asked.

“So it is true,” Mother Vastapol whispered. “It has been revealed.”

Mother Josara sat down again beside Mother Salagi. “The Gog’s dark engine. It can be destroyed!”

“How?” Buck asked.

The three seers began talking one after the other so rapidly, Sally could barely tell which was speaking.

“A weapon must be forged.”

“A spike.”

“A light to pierce the Dark.”

“The spike must be driven—”

“Into the heart of the Machine—”

“With the Nine Pound Hammer.”

“But it’s broken,” Si said. “The hammer’s head was lost in the Mississippi.”

“Then it must be found,” Mother Vastapol said.

“Can we make this spike?” Nel asked.

“It’s not within our powers to do this,” Mother Josara said.

Vastapol turned to Mother Salagi. “We must send the young Rambler.”

“Aye, Ray,” Mother Salagi said, nodding. “When he returns from yond West, I’ll a-send him.”

“Send him where?” Nel asked.

“To find the one who can forge the spike,” she said.

“Who can do that?” Si asked.

The eyes of the three seers fell to Sally and a hush came
over the room. She shifted nervously. “What? Why are you looking at me?”

“She must not know,” Mother Vastapol hissed.

“It ain’t right a-keeping it from her,” Mother Salagi said.

“What is it?” Sally asked.

Mother Josara smiled gently at Sally. “A vision brought Vastapol and me to seek Salagi’s counsel. Besides the Darkness, we saw something else. Something we suspected Salagi would be able to explain. We’ve seen another Rambler.”

Sally suddenly felt cold.

“He is trapped in the Gloaming,” Mother Vastapol said, looking at Nel.

“Who?” Nel asked.

“The only one who can make the spike,” Mother Josara said. “Bill Cobb.”

Sally felt as if she might fall from her chair, and she grabbed the table to steady herself.

“I fear I spoke falsely to young Ray,” Mother Salagi said. “He was a-wanting to know about his father. I searched with my charms. I told Ray I ain’t seen his father in this world. I suspected he was killed. He ain’t! He’s living still … prisoned in yonder Gloaming.”

Nel gasped. “We must save him.”

“We don’t know how to find him,” Mother Josara said. “To enter the Gloaming is difficult … it’s beyond our powers.”

“Nel’s powers have been returned!” Sally said. “He’s a Rambler again. He can’t become a fox yet, but he’ll remember.
Won’t you, Nel? You told me you would. Can’t you cross? Can’t you go find Father?”

Nel’s careworn gaze flickered from Sally down to his hands resting on the table.

“No,” Mother Salagi said after a moment. “Some danger seeks Nel. He must set his mind to protecting the children of Shuckstack.”

“Your brother,” Mother Josara said. “He will find your father. He must bring the rabbit’s foot to him.”

Sally could not fight the tears spilling across her cheeks. “But Ray is going to Kansas. Who knows how long it will be before he’s back. If … if he ever comes back … from the Darkness. That awful Darkness! Why did you have to send him there, Nel?”

Nel got up from his chair and came around to Sally, bundling her in his arms. She sobbed against his shoulder as he whispered to her, “Ray will be fine, dear girl. Don’t you worry. And he’ll find your father, Sally.”

“Aye,” Mother Salagi said, carrying the rabbit’s foot around the table to Sally and putting it in her hand. She touched a gnarled hand to Sally’s face, wiping away her tears. “Your brother will come back. Until then, ye must keep the foot safe.”

10
PISTOLS OF SILVER

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
N
EL
, B
UCK
, S
I, AND
S
ALLY
set off on the two-day journey back to Shuckstack. Sally was not the only one in a somber mood. The words of the seers weighed greatly on each of them. Most markedly changed was Buck. While dourness was not unusual for the sharpshooter, deep melancholy bent his frame as he walked. Sally watched with concern as Nel had to help Buck to his feet when they took breaks along the trail.

By evening they made camp near Two Eagle Mountain. Usually Sally loved a trip to the tall citadel of rocks, but that evening none had an interest in the view. After making dinner, they rolled out their blankets before the fire and lay struggling to sleep.

Sally woke to Si’s voice with the dawn not yet broken.

“Buck!” she called. “Buck!”

Nel threw off his blanket. “What’s wrong?”

“I woke just a moment ago, and Buck’s not here.”

“He probably just couldn’t sleep and is taking a walk,” Nel said, rubbing his eyes with his fist.

“That’s not like him, Nel,” Si said. “You know that.”

Nel’s brow furled. “Where is he, then?”

Si held up her hand, and Sally watched as the luminous shapes fixed into position along her fingers and across her black knuckles. She turned in a circle until she located Buck. “He’s up on the peak.”

“Let’s go,” Nel said, getting up.

Sally scrambled to her feet to follow them.

Guided by Si’s hand, they headed up toward the rocks atop Two Eagle. The climb was steep, but they reached the peak in a few minutes. Dawn teemed with a ruddy orange. Ahead the expansive scope of the Smoky Mountains stretched out before them.

Coming over the top of a boulder, Sally saw him. Buck sat at the edge of the cliff, his head slumped and his arms resting on his knees. In his hands were his pistols.

Nel exchanged a look with Si and then called out, “Buck, what are you doing up here?”

Buck lifted his head slightly, his tangled hair spilling over his face, but said nothing. They slowly approached him. Sally stopped a few paces behind Nel and Si as the two sat on either side of Buck.

“What’s going on?” Si asked.

“I’ve been up here thinking,” the old cowboy murmured in his gravelly voice. “Thinking on all I done.”

“What have you done, Buck?” Nel asked.

“All them …” Buck choked. “All of them that I cut their lives away.”

Nel put a hand to Buck’s shoulder.

“I can say that my brother, that policeman, those were just accidents,” Buck said. “I should have known better, but they were just accidents. But Seth! That was something different.”

“I was there beside you,” Nel said. “There was so much smoke, but I saw Seth holding his sword over Ray. We all thought Seth was going to kill Ray.”

“But I shot him!” Buck roared. “It was my bullet! If I hadn’t fired that shot … He was a troubled boy, but he didn’t deserve to die. I was the one that killed him. I … I can’t trust myself not to make that mistake again.”

Buck held up the pistols, their silver casings catching the bloody tint of the morning light. “My pa, he gave me these guns when I was just a boy. What would he say to know what I’ve done with them?”

Nel squeezed Buck’s shoulder.

“I can’t trust myself …,” Buck said, turning his pale eyes to Nel. “I can’t trust the guns not to kill again.” Tears spilt down his ragged face. He stood, whispering, “Never again.”

Nel and Si scrambled to rise. “What are you doing, Buck?” Nel asked, taking Buck’s arm.

Buck held the pair of pistols before him, the barrels upright.

“That seer, Vastapol,” Buck said. His brow trembled and he spoke through gritted teeth. “She asked me a question last
night after everyone else was asleep. She asked, ‘Buck, why did you never become a Rambler?’ The guns. Being a gunslinger always came easy to me. It was what I was good at. Learning to be a Rambler, that would have been hard. So she told me to ‘cast off the gunslinger—cast away the guns.’ I’m giving them up. I can’t live with them anymore, Nel. I’m finished with being a gunslinger.”

Nel’s wrinkled face tightened.

But calm came over Buck’s expression. “Sometimes, Nel, you have to do what scares you most to protect the ones you love.”

He took a step closer to the edge of the cliff. Nel let go of Buck’s arm and watched as the old cowboy heaved the pair of pistols from the mountainside.

Over and over, the shining silver of the guns sparkled and spun in the rising sun. Down they fell, disappearing onto the rocks far below.

The following evening, the four returned to Shuckstack. Nel fixed Buck a tonic to help him sleep. The others ate supper, and after cleaning up, the children scattered about the den, reading or playing games. Si, who had gone out into the mountains to build her strength, returned weaker than when she left.

“You’ll need to stay in bed the next few days,” Nel said to her. “Come down and I’ll make you a new medicine. Carolyn, make sure everyone is in bed within the hour. Good night, children.”

“Good night, Mister Nel,” they chorused.

Sally watched them go from where she sat sideways in the rocking chair. Her thoughts swirled and tangled around her head.

Ray. Her father. Nel. Buck.

Sometimes you have to do what scares you most to protect the ones you love
.

Buck’s words returned again and again in her thoughts. Sally was scared. Scared for Ray out in Kansas. Scared for her father, lost somewhere in the Gloaming.

Someone had to return his powers so he could forge the spike that would destroy the Gog’s Machine. But how would he ever be found?

Her hand rested against the rabbit’s foot in her dress pocket. The rabbit’s foot. She turned quickly in the rocking chair, letting her feet drop to the floor.

Buried within the rabbit’s foot was the lodestone her father had given to Ray. It had guided him; it had led Ray to their father trapped by the Hoarhound. What if the lodestone worked again?