Part VI
Kali lay in the lean-to, her back to the furnace. Darkness smothered the forest, and she had no lantern fuel left to light her lamp.
“Don’t need light,” she told herself. It was long past midnight, long past the time she should be sleeping.
But her ears strained, listening for footsteps crunching through the snow. The starlit trail ought to be easy to follow, even at night. Cedar should have caught up hours ago—if he hadn’t been hurt. Or worse.
Kali groaned and rubbed her face. Why was she worrying about him? She had only known him two days.
Two days in which he had saved her life numerous times. More, he had saved her sled from saboteurs. She probably shouldn’t value a piece of machinery more than her own hide, but, damn it, it made her grin just thinking of him sneaking up on those brutes from town.
That grin faded at the realization that dawn lurked only a couple hours away. She could not go back and search for him now. If she did, it was over. The race was lost. She had caught up to the other mushers but not gotten ahead before darkness fell, so she needed an early start in the morning. She needed to be well-rested. She definitely did not need to be lying awake, imagining Cedar buried in a snow drift with a bullet in his leg, trying to claw his way toward help, frostbite blackening his fingers and toes. Death on the horizon.
Kali groaned again, sat up, and grabbed her boots, her rifle, and a couple smoke nuts. “Fool. I’m a fool.”
She slipped outside, wincing as cold air enveloped her. She stoked the furnace and broke camp, not bothering to pack the tent. It might have been faster to leave everything and tramp back to the lake on foot, but, concerned for Cedar or not, she would not leave her sled in plain sight where it could tempt saboteurs.
A few dogs barked as she passed other teams bedded down alongside the trail, but she chugged through without pausing to acknowledge questioning grunts from sleepy mushers.
The first hint of dawn brightened the southern sky when she neared the lake. She tucked the sled into a hollow beside the trail, then, rifle in hand, padded onto the ice.
Even in the dim lighting, the airship wreckage was easy to see. Flames still burned in spots, lighting charred trees and casting an orange glow onto the ice.
Kali skirted the shoreline, clinging to the shadows as she headed toward the downed ship. She had not gone far when a dark form on the ice came into view. A person? A body? Cedar?
She slid a glove off so she could rest a finger on the trigger of her rifle. Frigid air chafed exposed skin. She eased forward. The form did not move. Queasiness stirred in her belly when she drew close enough to identify it: a charred body. He, or she, must have been thrown far in the crash.
A branch snapped in the woods.
Kali dropped to a knee and raised the rifle. The cold wooden stock chilled her cheek.
A shadow moved amongst the trees. Wolf.
She held her fire, not wanting to risk alerting anyone with a shot. Besides, grisly as the thought was, the wolf had a meal; it would not likely bother her.
Kali passed more bodies. She was glad darkness cloaked their faces, but she imagined their shocked expressions, their terrified eyes, nonetheless. Knowing she was responsible for their deaths did not sit well with her. Self-defense or not, she had caused a lot of carnage.
But not all of it. Her mouth fell open when she came to the next body. This one was missing a head.
Her first instinct was to look away, but curiosity kept her eyes riveted. How in tarnation had someone been thrown clear in a way that removed his head? And for that matter... She searched the ice all about her. Where was the head?
Kali crouched for a closer look. Her stomach churned at the scent of blood, but she told herself it could be worse. The temperature had already frozen the corpse.
The head had been cleanly severed by something sharp. Her thoughts went to Cedar’s sword, but she dismissed the notion. He might kill someone, but he hardly seemed the sort of loony to run around hacking off people’s heads.
Kali left the decapitated pirate, continuing toward the wreckage. On the way, she passed two more corpses, these downed by more normal means: bullets.
She picked through scattered boards and cargo sprawled about the crash. She grew uneasy as she entered the ring of light around the ship. The flames made it easier for her to see, but they would also make it easier for others to see her. Anyone hidden in the forest would have a clear view of her poking about. She stayed low, moving from broken tree to smashed crate to the shadows at the base of the ship.
Copious footprints crisscrossed the area, and, here and there, blood spotted the snow. She lifted a broken pocket watch on a chain, then laid it back down.
Kali was not sure what she expected to find; everyone around the ship was dead. If it was Cedar’s doing, he should have finished and returned to the sled. At the least, she would have met him on the trail. If someone else was responsible...she might turn a corner and find his body as well.
A soft thump sounded—something bumping against wood. Kali tensed. Someone, or something, was still in the airship.
It had pitched sideways when it skidded across the ice, and the decks would be too slanted to walk upon. If she could find a way on. The crumpled and charred remains of the balloon swaddled much of the craft. She rounded the bow and spotted a ragged hole in the hull. It might offer entry.
Kali crept to within a couple paces of it and paused, head tilted, ears straining. No voices murmured inside, and she had not heard another thump since the first. Shards of wood sprinkled the snow about the hole and footprints led to and from it.
She eased the last couple steps to peer inside. A bulky object hunkered on the threshold. In the predawn light, she struggled to make out details. She touched it and encountered damp canvas. Something lumpy in a sack. She found the opening and tugged it down, so the flames burning in a nearby tree would illuminate the contents.
A pair of lifeless human eyes stared up at her.
Kali screamed and dropped the sack of severed heads. She skittered back, heart in her throat, rifle clenched in both hands.
Footsteps pounded inside the ship, and she backed farther. Her outburst had been a mistake. Now they knew she was there.
A dark figured loomed in the hole.
She jerked her rifle up to shoot before it could.
“Kali!”
At the last second, the name pierced her fear-clouded mind, and she kept from firing.
“It’s me.” Cedar stepped out, arms spread. One hand gripped his sword. “They’re all dead. It’s all right.”
“All right?” Kali’s voice cracked. “What’re you doing? Why are you—are you the one running around decapitating people? What the—who does that?” Her heart was pounding her ribs like the pistons in a steam engine.
“Easy,” Cedar said as if he were soothing a beast. “I can explain.”
“Do so.” The calm detachment in her voice surprised her. She did not feel calm. Or detached. The flames created strange shadows on Cedar’s face and gleamed yellow against his sword. Blood dripped from the blade to the snow.
“I’m not decapitating everyone,” he said, “just the ones I recognize as having money on their heads. I’m a bounty hunter. The heads are required as proof of the deed done, so I can collect the reward.” He hesitated, and she realized she had not lowered the rifle. “I only hunt criminals. You’ve nothing to fear from me, Kali.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid. I’ve got my gun, and I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you can.”
There was a fondness in his voice that she might have found flattering if he were not standing next to a sack full of heads he had cut off. And that was not the only problem. Her gears clicked into place.
“You joined up with me, knowing I’d be a target?” she asked. “That these thugs were after me? You figured I’d make some good bait, and you could stand back and shoot at the people shooting at me?”
Wind moaned across t
he lake and through the trees. A wolf howled. Cedar said nothing. Kali shook her head slowly as she stared at him. She had not wanted to be right.
“How much will you make for turning those heads in to...wherever the head depository is?” she asked.
“One thousand dollars for Captain Brandt, and a couple hundred for the lesser felons.”
“I see,” Kali said. “I guess you don’t need my one hundred dollars then. Which is good because coming back to check on you means I don’t have a chance of winning now. Because I’m stupid. Because I bothered being worried you’d been captured or shot.” She finally lowered her rifle. “Thanks so much for your help out here.”
“Kali,” Cedar said softly. “I didn’t ask you to—”
“No. No, you didn’t.” She kicked snow. “Like I said, I’m just a stupid fool. Nothing new.”
Tears stung her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and turned her back.
“Kali....”
She stalked away. A part of her wanted him to run after her, to apologize for using her. A part of her was relieved when he did not.