A Friend in Need

by Travis Perry

Jax knelt down beside Ernsto, who was flat on his back on a sandy patch at the bottom of a rocky gully, wincing in pain. “I’m so sorry about last night—I guess I’ve been regulating how much I drink by how much I bring in…I usually run out of cash before I can put down that much ale.”

Ernsto snorted, “So it’s my fault for helpin’ you bring in too big a haul?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. The fault was mine. I’m sorry I led her to you, that Zana lady.”

“Well, don’t expect much from me. I never used to forgive anything from anyone.”

“Used to? Does that mean you forgive now?”

“Well—that angel sure would want me to…” Ernsto’s voice trailed off and his eyes watered.

Jax stared at his new friend and didn’t know what to think. He’d heard Ernsto cry out before, as in for help or in pain—but he’d never seen him cry, not a single tear, not even when he’d set the bone in his arm. There was so much he didn’t know about this guy. What in the world could have affected him so much?

“What angel?” Jax finally asked in a soft voice.

“Never mind about her…I forgive you. God knows I done a lot worse than what you did. To someone a lot better’n me.” A single tear streaked down the side of his face, past his ear into the sand. Ernsto wiped at his face absently, as if he didn’t really care.

“Changing subjects, er…I don’t think I set your bone quite right. Your left arm is shorter than the other.”

“Hmmm. Don’ blame yourself. I think it’s because the bone is shattered in that spot.”

“Ah…doesn’t that mean it will never heal right? I’m not a doctor or anything, but I think that’s the case.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you are correct.”

“Shouldn’t we, ah…do something about that?”

“Got any suggestions? Remember I’m wanted everywhere. And believe me, the man that’s after me is sure to make me disappear forever. If they catch me.”

Jax rubbed his chin, looking upward, Sheba visible low over the east mountain ridge in the dust-orange hued sky. “You know, I think I’ve got an idea…”

Struggle

By Travis Perry - 

Zana’s mechanical left arm grabbed at the right arm of the man, who must have been Mons, who had wrestled her to the ground and had her pinned to her back, his hands pressing down on her shoulders. “You’re a woman!” he exclaimed in a surprise barely audible as the dust storm whooshed around him.

Her only answer was to vice down her hand grip on his arm. He grunted in pain as she squeezed but without hesitation rolled off her to her right, using the torque of his body twist to pull his arm free from her steely grip. She rolled onto her own right side, reaching after him with her left arm. But Mons no sooner tumbled away than he rolled back. With both hands he shoved her left hand into the ground, then her left shoulder, pushing her face down as he rolled himself back over top her body, pinning her under his greater weight.

That made Zana angry. She thrust her left arm behind her back and grabbed the first piece of his body she could reach and squeezed as hard as she could. Her mechanical side had some tactile sense, not as good as her right, but she perceived a bone breaking—which she realized was Mon’s left humerus, the bone of his upper arm. He screamed in her ear, but his credit, made no move away from his dominant position, his weight still pressing her face-down into the ground.

“Leggo!” he managed to shout. And now she could feel a cold steel blade along the right side of her throat. “Leggo, sweetheart! Or I’ll gut you like a fish!”

Zana paused for a moment, something in her wanting to tell him to go screw himself, something in her willing to die for the privilege of defying him. But something else wanted to live, if nothing else because she couldn’t stand the thought that she would die while her father still lived. She let go of the arm, the whirling dust storm surrounding them, the man’s weight crushing her face against the ground. She turned her head left to be able to breathe. The ground pressed back at her fiercely, several fist-sized rocks strewn underneath her—Ernsto was clearly a lot bigger than she was, his weight easily dominating hers.

“Jax, you idiot!” shouted Mons in pain. “Come here!  I need your help.”

The wind suddenly shifted again and seconds later died as it sometimes did, utterly unpredictable. The sky still hid itself behind high clouds but the dust storm was coming to an end nearly as fast as it had begun.

At that moment, she heard Cotton’s feet scrambling over rock. He’d somehow made it up the rock ledge and now his furious barking fast approached.

“Back him off,” growled Mons, pressing his knife a bit harder to her throat.

Zana turned her head right, the direction of the barking—Mons accommodated by backing off the knife a bit. “Sit!” she snapped, “Stay!” Cotton whined, but she could see in the dimness that he obeyed. “Good boy.” Cotton barked in frustration.

“Good move,” said Mons pained voice in her ear. “It’d be hard for me to kill a dog with only one good arm. Don’ get me wrong, I’m sure I’d still kill it. But it’d be messy. Painful—mostly for it.”

“Him!” Zana snapped back.

“Him then,” answered Mons.

“What the hell!” exclaimed Jax’s slightly slurred voice. “There’s a dog and that woman and…what the hell happened?”

“You celebrated your kill too much, that’s what happened!” Mons snapped. “Come over here and help me tie her up. And my arm is broken, I’ll need you to splint it!”

In this short time, a gap had cleared in the sky, greatly increasing the ambient light. Her head turned right, human right side of her face up, she heard Mons gasp as Jax stumbled close to help him. “By the angels,” Ernsto exclaimed, “You’re beautiful!”

“You bastard!” she shouted. She would have spat on him if she could have.

But then the two of them lashed her as she lay on the ground, using a lot of extra rope on her left arm, and then took her rifle and survival gear. Some time passed before Jax finished with Mon’s arm, before the two of them stumbled out of the area. Cotton obediently but frustratedly sat for her the entire time, barking regularly.

“Come here, boy, help me,” she said as soon as she estimated that Mons was out of rifle range from her dog. How dare he call her “beautiful”—she would escape these ropes and hunt down Ernsto Mons if was the last thing she ever did. She hated no one more than him at that moment—not even her own father.

Collision

By Travis Perry - 

Zana mounted the height around the hill in a steady stride, spiraling counterclockwise upward, moving briskly but not so fast she couldn’t hear. Cotton, who’d been well trained, didn’t bark much as a rule and wasn’t barking now. But he whined with an eagerness that told her he smelled or heard someone and it wasn’t easy for him to hold back rushing forward faster than she ever could.

“Good boy,” she said in a sub-vocal tone a dog would hear but a human never would. “Stay with me.”

With a suddenness that Zana had experienced all of her life, the calm night was suddenly and sharply broken by a harsh wind rushing in from the hinterlands. She faced into the wind and saw in the distance a darkness moving forward at a rapid pace, blocking out the stars more each passing second. A dust storm coming in. Soon.

She reached a wall of rock that formed a knob around the very top of this little mountain, a base to a climb that led steeply upward. From above, her ears received a wind-dimmed noise that by its tone had originally been shouts, “Ernsto! Ernsto! Where are you?” The voice she realized was Jax’s.

She glanced down at Cotton, who had his paws on the rock wall, scratching at it with his claws, looking as if he wanted to scramble up the little cliff, growling in a low tone. “He’s up there, is he?” Zana vocalized. Cotton replied with a single sharp bark.

She was taking a risk, but chances were fairly good that Mons would move toward Jax’s voice, giving her the opportunity to come up behind him, if she moved quietly enough. And now was the time to move, while she could still see the handholds in the rock.

Her mechanical left arm pulled her up from handhold to handhold, while she managed to keep the rifle from banging into her too badly as she tried to both help move upward and control it with her right hand. Soon, she’d mounted the little rock wall and found a ledge about a meter wide there. Above her the hill continued up steeply to the top, maybe seventy meters higher. She saw the dark shape of a torso some fifty meters above her, the lower body covered by the curvature of the hill.

She pointed the rifle that way, looking and listening as the wind rushed around her in a whistle. “Ernsto!” shouted the shape above her. “Ernsto! Hey, I brought medicine! Hey, where are you?”

At that moment, Cotton started barking furiously from down below. And the wind changed, now hurling dirt around her, the hillside offering some protection, but not enough to keep her eyes from watering and blinking. But nonetheless she was able to see well enough to notice a flash of movement registering a dark shape—a human shape—hurling itself from behind a boulder less than five meters away on the hill above her, straight down towards her. She raised the rifle to fire, but too late.

A man’s body collided into hers and she fell, losing control of the rife. The man, who had strong arms and who smelled of sweat and bug gall and blood, grappled with her as the winds whipped dust around them and Cotton’s barking transformed into a frenzy…

Equal and Opposite Reaction

by Travis Perry

Zana followed Jax as he climbed up a trail leading into the hills north of the Palmer camp, Cotton padding alongside her. The lesser whalelight and an unusually dust-free fiveday Summer night made visibility much higher than it would normally be at this hour.

There must be somebody else up there she realized. Why else would a hunter with money in his pocket and ale in his belly climb a hillside in the middle of the night? Normally someone like that would rent a locker for his gear and a cot for his backside and sleep in camp for the night…or even the next day or two…

So she scanned the hills very carefully, looking for any warning of danger, her rifle at the low ready. And then she saw it—a glint of light reflecting from what must be some sort of glass. She snapped up her rifle and looked through her scope. The optic brought the glint close but whatever caused it was already moving.

She lowered the rifle for better visibility and ducked into a branch to the left, veering off the trail Jax trudged up, which would put her in a counterclockwise rotation around the hill. If Mons were up there, she’d circle around until she found him…

#

“Looks like Jax’s had a good time,” muttered Ernsto as he looked through Jax’s binos, watching him stumble up the hill. The binos were his new friend’s most expensive piece of gear—so Jax hadn’t wanted to part with them. But he had insisted…

Some instinct told him to scan the area behind Jax. Two shapes moved there, in line with Jax, trailing behind by about one hundred meters. “Damnit! He’s being followed!”

And the larger shape suddenly changed shape. Ernsto saw light reflect of what probably was a rifle optic as it rose. He cursed and rolled over to all fours and scrambled forward, down the hill, scrambling downward in a circle going clockwise around the peak…

Observation

by Travis Perry - 

Zana decided to keep an eye on the one called, “Jax.” A tiny flicker of recognition had crossed his face when she’d shown him the glossy of Ernsto Mons. Jax knew Ernsto, or at least had seen him at some point, Zana would have bet her last credit on that. She could have threatened him, but her gut instinct told her he wouldn’t have talked—not easily anyway.

At the moment, Jax lingered at Maddie’s Pub, seated at a stool near the front, while Zana lingered at a table near the back. He was that kind of hunter, it seemed, the kind to drink big whenever he brought in a big haul. The kind that, like it or not, was the main reason a business like Maddie’s could turn a profit.

Hours passed but eventually, Jax stumbled out of the establishment, dragging a heavy pack after him, clearly full of something, probably supplies. Not too suddenly, Zana followed along after him, Cotton padding alongside her.

Just as she passed outside the pub door, she observed Jax stumble into the nearby “Elimination Tent.” At least he wasn’t the kind of hunter to empty his bladder on the outside wall of the Pub…Zana rounded the corner around the left of the tent. And waited.

Not more than a minute later, she heard footsteps stumbling out across the hardbrick in front of the tent flap entrance. Jax was lucky somebody didn’t assault him and take whatever money he had left on him…if he had any money left, that is. Apparently the Palmer Trading Camp on the outskirts of Adagio wasn’t actually as rough as local lore would suggest.

Jax didn’t reenter the pub. Instead, he stood in the reddish light of the lesser whale, puzzled for a moment, while Zana observed him from the side of the tent. He unsteadily lined up his body as his eyes searched something in particular, perhaps a specific feature on the horizon. Then he pulled on the heavy pack onto his shoulders and stumbled that direction, in something loosely approximating a straight line, straight out of the Palmer Camp.

Zana found it simplicity itself to follow after him.

Inquiry

Inquiry

By Travis Perry

“You seen this man?” The woman asking had a definite no-nonsense presence—titanium patching on her face, a robotic left arm and left leg. The glossy she held in Jax’s face looked familiar.

“Uh, maybe. I see lots of people.”

“There’s a substantial bounty on this one—the biggest I’ve ever seen. If you know something leading to the arrest of Ernsto Mons, that would be worth five thousand credits to you.”

“Ernsto Mons—that’s the guy in the picture?” Jax looked up at the woman’s face. Her non-robotic parts were actually quite attractive. He felt embarrassed to notice, and it formed a painful reminder of his wife separated from him on Avenir, but in fact he hadn’t seen a lot of women of late—other than Maddie, of course, and some old hag who did cleaning. But the blaze in her eye told him she was even more no-nonsense than his first impression would indicate. Her dog eyed him with a tilted head, as if suspicious.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“What’s he wanted for?”

“About everything—theft, smuggling, murder, human trafficking, insurrection, plotting to assassinate an Avenir government official, plotting to overthrow the Avenir government.”

Jax let out a low whistle. “Whoa. So what’s five thousand credits? Like ten percent?”

The woman nearly smiled at him. The expression sent a chill down his spine. “Why? Are you going to try to haggle for a bigger cut?”

“No—I mean, no, ma’am. Just, er, wondering…” his voice trailed off.

“Look, do you know something or not?”

Jax had already decided what to do. Whatever else he had done, Ernsto had kept a coriander beetle from attacking him from behind while another attacked from the front. Ernsto had also helped move the beetles into the trading camp, yielding a good haul, though he had insisted on staying outside himself. Jax owed him. “Er, sorry. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Hmmm,” she replied, studying him. “Well, if you change your mind, ask for me at the trading post. Everyone knows my name there.”

“Which is?” When her fierce eyes met his own, Jax added, “…er, ma’am…”

“Zana. That’s all you need to know.” And then she turned away.

Flashback: Undertow

by Pauline Creeden

Zana struggled to reach the surface.  The memories enveloped and dragged her to the depths of despair.  She wanted--needed to wake up.

Acid filled the air and rushed toward her face, and Zana squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. White spots danced behind her lids.  She heard nothing but high pitched ringing as she turned her head. The screaming came from her throat. Her face burned as though on fire.

Not again.

The ground slammed against her shoulder as she landed on her right side, but the pain focused on her left side instead. Her body turned from the momentum to her back and the pain renewed, dizziness threatened to pull her into unconsciousness.  She struggled; knowing that if she passed out, her brother would be in danger.  Clenching her jaw she forced her eyes open.

Don’t.

A red dust cloud surrounded Zana, but the sun still sifted through.  She squinted, the white dots fluttering like annoying flies.  Her mouth was closed, but she tasted dust and her left cheek moved in and out each time she took a ragged breath.

She tried to pull her left hand up to touch her cheek, but nothing happened.  Her arm didn’t follow her mind’s command.  Is it broken? She thought through the pain, unsure and unable to locate her arm.  The ringing subsided so that she could hear the giant cannonbeetle’s legs thumping the ground in a scurrying motion as it retreated.  She wondered at how it didn’t finish her. 

Fear seized her.  Where was her little brother?

Don’t look.

“Zane?”  She cried, afraid that if she moved she’d pass out.  Zana’s voice cracked lower than she intended and sounded foreign to her.  It was deep, groggy, and echoed funny.  Her tongue felt dry, swollen, and strange in her mouth.

“Zane?”  She called louder, but the force of the word caused the white spots to crowd her vision and increase tenfold.  Blackness seeped in to the corners of her sight, tunneling her vision.  She tried to get up, but her left arm did nothing and her right arm had no strength.  Tears-filled her eyes as she stared at the red sky.

Please don’t.

Dizziness seized her.  The world seemed to spin.  Zana closed her eyes again and turned her head.  The movement caused pain to shoot through her body and the blackness closed in.  When she opened her eyes, half her vision had gone dark.  She fought it again.  When the spots retreated, her brother’s face appeared.  

“Zane!  Thank God, I thought…” She stopped as a black fly landed on his open eye.

Weakness

by Pauline Creeden -

“I saw your father.” Dr. Lee’s voice rose just above a whisper, his back turned to her as he examined her blood in the microscope.

Zana bolted upright and nearly jumped from the examination table.  But she lost her balance and fell hard on her right elbow. The bone rang like a tuning fork. “What?”

“Your blood work looks good.” Dr. Lee turned around, his blue eyes round and grey-brown brows furrowed above. “Zana, you shouldn’t move suddenly; I took two pints of your blood. If your blood weren’t so rare, I wouldn’t need to take as much each visit.  If you get injured again…”

“No,” Zana’s said with as much ferocity as she could muster in a prone position. She pointed a metal finger at the doctor and continued, “That’s not what you said.”

Dr. Lee dropped his arms to his sides and met her eyes. His brows raised in a plea for forgiveness.  He shrugged as he said, “I saw him a month ago at the general store in Currituck.” Dr. Lee’s gaze explored the wall, ceiling, and finally settled on the window. “The man looked old, haggard, and tired.  He wore circuit preacher robes.  Whether it’s a disguise or not, I don’t know.”

Her heart raced in her chest. Zana’s voice shook as she spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ve been here for three days, and now you tell me?”

“You’re going to need to rest a day or two from the blood loss before you go.”

“You did that on purpose.”

Dr. Lee nodded, refusing to meet her icy stare.  “It was a month ago, he could be anywhere now.”

Zana folded her arms across her chest, feeling the cold titanium of her left arm through the gauzy fabric of her shirt.  She stared at the ceiling and said in a soft voice, “I will find him.  And when I do, he’s dead.”

Reality Kills

by Pauline Creeden -

“Cotton,” Dr. Lee called the shepherd over from Zana’s side as she approached his house. The dog loped toward the tall, thin, old man as he kneeled. He rubbed the dog on the head and looked up at her asking, “How has he been? Any coughing?”

Zana shook her head and pulled down her kerchief as she smiled, “Nope. Not a one.”

Dr. Lee’s family worked toward producing mammals that could withstand Eclectia’s harsh climate. The typical lifespan of dogs had been two Foundings, but through selective breeding the Lees developed a shepherd hardy enough to live as much as five. The Lee’s gave Cotton to Zana at her visit last year. Now two Foundings old, Cotton was the first of the Lee Shepherds to try to live outside of their breeding facility.

Dr. Lee stood, his soft blue eyes fixing on Zana’s as he said, “How much abuse have your cybernetic parts been put through this year?”

Zana shrugged and followed the old man back to the house for her yearly check-up and adjustments with Cotton trotting in the lead. Mrs. Lee met them at the door with a smile, wiping her hands on an apron. The Lee house felt like home to Zana, and it gave her a heartwarming feeling. Mrs. Lee held out her arms for a hug and Zana slipped into them feeling a little awkward as she stood almost six inches taller than the round-faced woman.

“So what have you been up to this year? Meet any husband prospects?” Mrs. Lee asked, just like a mother with a spinster daughter.

Zana furrowed her brow and clenched her jaw. Even if a man could look past her robotic half, she just couldn’t see herself in the domestic capacity. For now her focus remained on catching the man who haunted her every nightmare. She pulled away from the cheerful woman’s grip and shook her head.

“Well, there’s a nice young man who just moved into town…”

“Lucinda, leave Zana alone. She’ll fix herself up with a man when she’s ready.” Dr. Lee’s sympathetic blue eyes apologized for his wife.

“Besides,” Zana said as she kneeled down and hugged the shepherd, “Who needs a man when I’ve got Cotton to keep me company?”

Lucinda Lee shook her head but left the subject alone, “Well dear, your room’s been made ready for you. I’m sure you’ll want a hot bath before dinner. I made bugloaf for dinner along with Summer Mint Cookies for later.”

Zana’s smile returned. She could smell the mint cookies as she entered the door. The smell of home. Zana wondered what applications Dr. Lee might have to add to her cybernetic parts this year, and how long they would take. Zana and Cotton remained the most public of Dr. Lee’s experiments.

After her bath, Zana stood almost naked in front of the full-length mirror while her long wavy dark hair dripped down her back. Her robotic arm and leg were light and as feminine as they could be, but still overpowered her human half. When she stuck her tongue over to her left cheek, she could taste the flexible titanium that covered the holes she felt in her skin. Her own green eyes stared back at her and she shook her head as she remembered princess wishes and happily-ever-after daydreams. Reality killed them all. She sat on the bed and wrangled her wet hair into a braid.

When she came into the dining area, Zana sat next to the air purifier that pulled in the warmth of home and spit out the “fresh” air that smelled faintly of ozone. Cotton settled on top of her bare feet as she sat in the upright wooden chair. Smiling, Lucinda came in and set the Bugloaf on the table.

“Be a dear and get Rob for me?”

Zana pushed the chair back and stood. She started to feel like a teenager again. Cotton looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes, but got up to follow regardless of his fatigue. When she came to the door that separated the main house from the doctor’s lab, Zana knocked and then opened the door before a response issued.

She peeked her head in and smiled as she saw the welding sparks fly into the air. She called out to Dr. Lee, “Dinner’s ready!”

The doctor pulled up his face mask and looked at Zana with a grin that she knew well. He pointed down at the large robotic wheeled contraption he’d been welding. “Know what this is?”

Zana shook her head and made a mock frown. “Nope.”

“It’s your new ride.”

The Waiting Game

by Pauline Creeden -

Wind blew wisps of hair into her face as Zana Black set the rifle on the back of her cybernetic hand. She couldn’t cup the barrel like she used to because fine motor control still eluded her. Through the scope her target came into range, but she couldn’t gain a clear shot. The waiting game ensued.

Zana’s breath filtered through her kerchief in visible clouds. Human prey never relied on scent for warning of a predator, so being upwind of the man she hunted made no difference. Zana continued to watch for the right moment.

“Dead or alive,” but preferably dead was how the Circuit Judges wanted the men she hunted. These small time criminals didn’t compare to the one that she had hunted for five Foundings. The man who’d stolen her arm, leg, and soul still roamed free and she’d travel to the depths of Eclectia or the heights of Avenir for him. She snickered at the thought that he’d make it that far.

A warm body came and lay next to hers, trying to conserve his warmth as well as aid in keeping her own. She pulled her face from the scope and looked down at her right hip to find liquid brown eyes staring back at her. The sand and black shepherd laid its ears back in submission when he saw her acknowledge him, and his long tail swept the ash-covered hill.

With a smile she accepted his presence and looked back through the scope. A clear shot presented itself, and she pulled the trigger.

Just a Myth

by Pauline Creeden -

Zana Black stepped inside the darkness of the pub to a greeting of silence. A gasp went up as she pulled down the kerchief that covered her nose and mouth, and her boots echoed as she strode across the hardwood. She squinted her way to the bar, straining against the flash blindness that blocked her ability to see faces. Hushed whispers replaced the silence.

As she set her robotic left arm on the bar, her eyes finally adjusted and she could see the bartender staring at it. He shook his head and looked away quickly. He stuttered as he said, “How can I help you?”

“I’ll take a Spring Root Ale.” She handed over the credits.

Zana turned around and leaned against the bar, scanning the dark tavern. He wasn’t there.

The bartender set the drink next to her right elbow and Zana turned around. It wouldn’t do to crush the glass with her robotic grip, so she pulled it across the surface with her right hand.

She laid her left arm on the bar and opened the panel on the wrist. She pressed a few buttons and a hologram popped up in the center of her hand. The murmuring at the bar grew in intensity and the bartender’s eyes widened.

“You seen this guy around?” she asked him.

The bartender hesitated and tore his eyes away from the hologram. He shook his head and tried to go back to wiping the bar.

“You’re lying,” she said, making her robotic hand into a fist. The hologram popped like a bubble.

The man swallowed hard, blood draining from his face. “I…I…He was in here yesterday, but he left.”

“And?”

“And he said something about going west, I think…”

“You think?” Zana narrowed her eyes.

“I know he said west. He definitely said west.”

Zana nodded and picked up her mug, turning around again so that she faced the room. A sigh of relief came from behind.

“So what did you do?” A little tow-haired boy looked up at Zana, his big blue eyes wide with wonder and sticky fingers reaching toward the robotic appendage.

Zana looked around and couldn’t tell who the kid belonged to. He looked about four Foundings old and she couldn’t see anyone who looked as though they missed him. She set down her ale and kneeled, unbuttoning and pushing her duster back.

She pulled her robotic arm closer to him and set it on her cybernetic knee. “Beetle attack, kid. I’ve never been a slave.”

His eyes grew wider, “You mean you survived?”

She nodded, and answered, “But my arm and leg didn’t.”

“Wow!” He reached out and touched the silver titanium that covered her left cheek. She leaned in for his touch and her black braid fell forward. He asked, “Here, too?”

“That’s where one sprayed me with acid.”

“It’s true? They can spray acid?”

“Only the female cannonbeetle, and only during breeding season.”

He grabbed a hold of the black braid and tugged it with a giggle. Zana smiled wider, tempted to pick the kid up and hug him.

“KRISTOF!” A woman squealed as she walked out of the kitchen. A plate slipped off her tray and fell to the floor.

The little boy winced and jumped back from Zana, putting his hands behind his back. The woman set her tray on an empty table and marched over. He started pouting before she even got there.

“What did I tell you about bothering customers?” The woman’s voice shook.

Zana stood up and leaned against the bar again. The waitress looked at Zana with eyes full of fear and apologized. Zana gave a head tilt and took another sip of her ale.

The woman rushed away, dragging the boy by the elbow. “I didn’t do nothing. She wasn’t bothered, I swear!” The boy whined.

She said something under her breath that couldn’t be heard. The boy’s response made it obvious enough. “Un-uh! It was a beetle attack! Her face was sprayed with acid.”

The woman looked back quickly and said in a harsh whisper that Zana didn’t miss this time, “Beetles don’t shoot acid—that’s just a myth.”

Zana smiled and headed for the tavern door, her boots resounding on the floorboards where silence otherwise reigned. Everyone’s eyes followed her once more. No matter to her. She raised the red kerchief over her mouth and nose once more to keep the ash out. Zana pushed the door open and pulled her duster in tighter to face the ashy eastern wind. At least it would be to her back as she made her way west to the mountains.