Flora's Fury: How a Girl of Spirit and a Red Dog Confound Their Friends, Astound Their Enemies, and Learn the Impo (42 page)

Now I knew he knew, and was covering for me. For Tiny Doom. But before I could confront him, he said quickly, “Sieur Taylor is running a herd out to Calo Res tomorrow. He’s agreed to allow you to ride with him. You can catch the stage to Hassayumpa from there. No—” He raised his hand. “I think that closes this matter. As soon as we put it behind us all, the better we shall be. You are dismissed. Your arrest is lifted.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You needn’t thank me. Frankly, Lieutenant, it is Captain Oset’s reputation I am considering, not yours. She deserves to be remembered as a hero, even if she didn’t die like one. And I consider also your mother.”

“My mother?” My heart jumped.

“Ayah. General
Fyrdraaca.
She does not need this kind of embarrassment right now. I take the prerogative of a senior officer to remind you that you have a sworn duty to put the interests of your country over your personal choices. When you break that oath, you damage not just yourself but your fellow soldiers as well. You broke confinement—you broke your word to me—you deliberately disobeyed my orders, and Goddess knows what other orders you ignored. You came here under false pretenses and put us all in danger. You deserve to be court-martialed—fike, if it were up to me, I’d cashier you and let you sit in the guardhouse for a couple of months before I sent you off with a bobtail.

“Captain Oset is dead. Nothing you do can ever change that. You owe it to her to make her death meaningful. Do you understand?”

“Ayah, sir,” I said miserably.

His tone softened a bit. “But you did well with your first command. You got the troopers home again safely, even if you did lose most of the gear—losses I am going to have to absorb personally, I’d like to say, since I don’t want to tax Oset’s estate. Her mother is elderly and will need all of Oset’s pension. It was a tough situation even for a seasoned officer, and you haven’t even graduated yet. And perhaps you are not solely responsible for Oset’s death. Others bear some blame, including myself for not being more alert to the dangers. In the end, you did well. I think your mother would be proud. But, Lieutenant...”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please don’t come back to Arivaipa anytime soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dismissed, I stood on the ramada for a moment, watching the colors flutter in the breeze. I should have felt relief—I had gotten away with everything—but I felt awful. Instead of letting me off the hook, Major Rucker had impaled me deeper upon it. I would prefer to be court-martialed, cashiered, sent to the guardhouse, maybe even shot. I did not deserve to get away with anything. Oset was still dead.

I would be glad to see the last of Fort Sandy, the last of Arivaipa. Major Rucker had asked me not to return—he didn’t need to make it an order. I had no desire to see Arivaipa again.

A
T THE HOG
ranch, the party was still in full swing. As I came through the door, a man in a blue sailor-collared shirt made a suggestion to me. I kicked him hard in the knee, which felt so satisfying that I did it again. The roisterers thought this was really amusing and yelled encouragement, but the gesture had made my bruised side throb, so I just left him.

At the bar, Flynn was sitting in a barrel chair, eating a steak off a china plate. Two tables over, Tharyn was playing euchre. From the scowls of the other players and the pile in front of him, I guessed he was winning. But when he saw me, he got up from the game and slipped his arm around my waist.

“Outside!” I hollered over the din. Flynn scrambled down from his chair and followed us.

“What happened? Is he going to court-martial you?” Tharyn asked as soon as we found a private spot near a saguaro.

“Nothing happened. La Bruja told him that Oset was stung by a scorpion and the poison made her crazy That’s the line he’s sticking to, but he knows about Tiny Doom, I know it, Tharyn. He lectured me and told me to go home. He’s going to cover up that I was ever here, and the only reason for him to do that is to cover for Tiny Doom.”

“So what will you do?”

“I can’t go home. I’m going to resign, I guess.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Will you go back to Barbacoa? Your friend has become the talk of the island, a great hero.”

“Friend? What friend?”

“Your friend Udo Landaðon,” he said warily.

I vaguely remembered going to school with an Udo Landaðon, but we had never been friends. He was a glass-gazing fop, and I hate glass-gazing fops. “I have no desire to see Barbacoa again. And any way, Cutaway told me not to come back.”

“Then where will you go?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could come with me.”

“You should get as far away from me as possible, Tharyn. I’m no good,” I said dolefully “Nini, that’s absurd.”

“Oset’s dead and it’s my fault. I almost got Flynn killed, almost got you killed. I almost ruined Buck’s revolution. She was right not to trust me. If I go back to Califa, I’ll be a liability to her. Plus, if Espejo told the Birdies about me, about Tiny Doom, they could come after me. If I go back to the City, it would put my family in danger.”

“You have to do something.”

“Maybe I’ll just shoot myself in the head,” I said bitterly.

Tharyn grabbed my arm as I turned away, but I shook his grip off. I didn’t want his comfort. I didn’t want to be told that things would look different in the morning or that hope was free. All those happy optimistic words were nothing but fiking shite. You could be good and kind and still die, through no fault of your own. You could do what you thought was right and still cock everything up.

Tharyn grabbed my arm again, and this time his grip was like iron. “It’s not a joke to talk about blowing your brains out, Nini.”

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it. Please leave me alone, Tharyn. I just really want to be left alone now.”

He loosened his grip, but he didn’t drop it. “Look, while we were in Barbacoa, I sent a letter to my boss. I told him about you, told him what a help you were to me, and how you saved my skin in Cambria.”

“You must have been selective in your telling,” I said, but he ignored the comment and said, “I got his response just before I left. He authorized me to offer you a job.”

“A job?”

“Ayah. You’d have to start out at the bottom as my assistant, but it’s a great opportunity, Nini. The Pacifica doesn’t hire often, but when you are in, you are in—they’ll take care of you forever. I’ve got a delivery to make to Porkopolis—not an express package, but a regular overland delivery Come with me.”

“Why would you want that? I’m a disaster.”

“Oh, fiking hell, yes, you are. But I guess I have a taste for disasters, and you, darling Nini, do taste delicious.”

His words were an unfortunate echo of Espejo’s, and I couldn’t stop a little shudder.

He continued, “You said you wanted to get away, to see the world, to travel. Here’s your chance. Just think—Porkopolis! Their buildings are so tall, you can see them from miles away. We’ll take the dirigible—”

“Can I think about it?”

“No. I can tell your thoughts are not very good ones. Just say yes, Nini. Please, say yes. If you resign, if you don’t go back to Califa, what else will you do?”

He had a point. I had limited funds and not much experience doing anything useful. Express agenting was about as close to rangering as you could get these days. If I took the position, I would be Nyana Romney—I could say goodbye to Flora Fyrdraaca forever. No one would know or care who my family was. I would make my own way.

“What if I screw that up, too?”

“You won’t. I have faith in you, Nini. Have some faith in yourself.”

“Ayah, so. I’ll go with you.”

He whooped and lifted me up in a bear hug, and I clung to him. Suddenly, I felt pretty good. Suddenly, I actually had something to look forward to.

And then, for the last time, I hoped, Flynn and I trudged back to the post, leaving Tharyn to finish fleecing the other gamblers. I had to do one more thing before I left Sandy for good. Since the celebration at the hog ranch, a little idea had been itching at the back of my brain, but I had been too tired and overwhelmed with duty to think about it. Now, with everything settled, I could barely think of anything else.

After the big storm, the river was flowing steadily, the water a silvery ribbon unwinding through the shadowy desert. A fresh breeze shivered the cottonwood trees, made the rustling of the leaves sound somewhat like rain. A small fire burned outside one of the wickiups; several Broncos sat around it, smoking and eating from a tin mess kettle. They fell silent as I approached.

“La Bruja?” I said.

A woman pointed toward the river. The Broncos went back to their chow, dismissing me. Flynn had already disappeared into the thicket of cottonwood trees; I heard him snuffling and scratching in the bushes. It took me a few minutes to find the pathway through the canebrake; it was narrow and overgrown, but it was there. I followed it, glad for the brightness of the starlight. The air smelled of moisture and lush greenery and of some sweet flower. It didn’t take much water for the desert to bloom.

Ahead, Flynn yipped happily and a voice shushed him. The path became rocky, the bushes fell away to reeds, and then I felt sand underfoot. Flynn had waded out into the water and was splashing happily around a dark figure. Her clothes were piled on the sand, her gun belt sitting on top of the neat pile. A stenchy fog of cigarillo smoke hung in the air.

“Come fer a bath, Lieutenant,” La Bruja said cheerfully She sent a wave of water splashing over Snapperdog, who jumped in delight. “The water’s chill, but fresh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were on my side?” I demanded.

She took another puff of the cigarillo. “I never did have the time, did I? Sorry about them kicks. I tried to make ’em look good, but not too tough. Get down, ya fiking dog!”

“I’m fine,” I said shortly. “Is he really dead?”

“He’s out of yer hair, and that’s all that matters.”

“Come here, Flynn!” Flynn slogged out of the water and plopped down at my feet, looking slightly put out. I patted his head and repeated, “Is he dead?”

La Bruja drawled, “He ain’t gonna bother you again. That’s a pretty man you got there, Tharyn is his name? How’d he get here, anyway? I didn’t hear he was on the stage—”

“Cut the fiking crap!” I cried. Flynn’s ears pricked up and he looked interested. “Am I that fiking stupid? Do you think I’m that fiking stupid?”

For a moment, she stared at me, and I glared back. Then she laughed, long and hard, huddling down in the water, her shoulders shaking so much that for a moment I thought she might be crying. Flynn looked at me quizzically, and I was suddenly unsure. Then she raised her head, wiped her face.

“Ah, fike. You aren’t stupid, Flora. Far from it,” Tiny Doom said.

T
INY
D
OOM WADED OUT
of the water, and I looked the other way as she dried off with a blanket. I put my sunshades on, but my Charm hadn’t been strong enough to see through her Glamour in the daylight and certainly wasn’t powerful enough to see through it at night. Tiny Doom was just a dark shadow. Silently, we went back down the path, past the Bronco fire. Their meal was done; one Bronco was chanting in a singsongy voice while the others listened. I couldn’t tell if he was singing or just talking, telling a story, maybe. The smell of tobacco drifted through the air and for a moment my resolve wavered. I could walk away right now, go back to Tharyn, leave Arivaipa now.

But then I would never know the truth.

After the fresh air and the brilliant moonlight outside, the wickiup seemed close and stale. A small dented tin lantern hung from a branch, giving off a sallow yellow light. In the center of the hut, a coffeepot sat on the iron spider balanced over a heap of smoldering coals. There was no furniture; a battered Madama Twanky’s Cream-o Crackers crate served as a table, and the saddle was a makeshift chair. A figure lay curled in a blanket near the fire: Pecos.

“Let’s keep it low, so we don’t wake up Pecos,” Tiny Doom said. “Fike, I need some coffee.”

“Is Pecos your kid?”

“Fike, no. He’s just a friend of mine.” She fished around in a woven basket and found two chipped cups. The coffee was thick as mud, and the condensed milk made it so sweet my teeth ached. She sat on the saddle and indicated that I should sit on the fur rug. I did not sit.

She took a gulp. “You know, this desert used to be at the bottom of the sea. Sometimes you find shells in the sand. Once I found the bones of a fish trapped in a rock. Are you all right?” She had lit one of those foul cigarillos, and in the close quarters of the wickiup it was very stenchy.

“Oh, ayah, I’m just dandy. My side hurts like fike, and I got an innocent woman killed, and my own mother lied to me, but otherwise I’m great.”

“You’ve done your fair share of lying, Flora. So I don’t see how you can bitch at me.”

“Why did you have to lie to me?”

“I’m sorry But I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

Well, I couldn’t fault her there.

She continued, “And I thought it the best way to trap Espejo. I didn’t want him to see me coming, and he didn’t. But I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. And I’m awfully sorry about Captain Oset. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s a shame, but there it is.”

“Is he dead?”

Her silence was my answer, but I wanted to hear her say it.

“Tell me!” I hissed. The boy stirred a bit, and she patted his side reassuringly.

“No, he’s not dead. But you needn’t worry He won’t be a danger to you ever again. Or to anyone.”

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

“Because I don’t want to piss off the Lord of the Smoked Mirror. Espejo is his boy Ol’ Tezcatlipoca gets mighty irked if anything happens to his boys. Espejo is nothing compared to the Smoked Mirror. But you never need fear he’ll be any trouble to us again. How did you guess it was me? Even Espejo didn’t catch me out.”

“Your whole Bruja act is like something out of a Nini Mo novel. In fact, there was a La Bruja in a Nini Mo novel.
Nini Mo vs. the Arivaipa Tattler.”