Dry Gulch was a dead town, near as Alex could tell. The windows of most of the buildings were shuttered, and the doors were held closed by long planks of wood on the outside. Early in the morning, the streets were completely deserted. It was still early in the day, but even in small towns on other islands, there would be the hustle and bustle of people going about their day-to-day lives. Even from the ridge above it, Alex couldn't see anyone on the dirt roads below.

"Take me to the general store first," Alex said from where he sat down in the back of the cart. "I want to see how he gets supplies."

"You going into town is going to paint a target on our backs," Sam said as she pulled on the reins to slow down Winny. "There ain't no way we're going to hide the fact you're a stranger. You better be ready for a fight."

"I'm always ready for a fight," Alex said, tapping his staff against the cart. "But I hope it doesn't come to that immediately. Hurting people makes them less likely to answer honestly, despite what most think."

He didn't think he would get much with just questioning. Instead, he intended to have a look around. If anything, it would be better if they could stop outside of town and have Sam lead him in on foot.

"Before we get into town, find a good place to stop," Alex said. "If you can sneak me in, we'll get farther without drawing attention."

Sam didn't protest and instead drove the cart down the bumpy dirt road. She found them a place to hide the cart above the ridge, off and to the side behind some brush. Alex followed as Sam led him into town. There was no hiding their walking in, but once inside, she led him down a few side roads and between buildings so they weren't walking down the main road.

Dry Gulch was built in exactly what its name sounded like—a dried-out gulch between two ridge lines. There was never a real worry about flooding; Sam had pointed out an old dam north of the town that fed into the town's water tower. Alex imagined that being in the gulch sheltered the townspeople from most of the heat of the day, though the noonday sun must have been terrible.

Alex kept his gate open as they walked through the town. He could sense the occasional person in the shifting magnetic fields, the only likely source of moving metal, but they were all inside their homes. He made note of each of the few occupied homes as they passed. Sam did a decent job of keeping them out of sight, so he wasn't too worried about being spotted. Finally, they came upon the back door of the general store. Sam stopped and showed it to him.

"Smart," Alex said, reaching out his hand and touching the door softly.

"You want to keep out of sight, best to go in the back door. He keeps it locked, though."

Alex felt the metal lock beneath the knob with his senses. Carefully, he pushed up on the tumblers inside the lock with his magnetism while turning the cylinder inside. Before he had acquired his powers, he had a vague idea of how thieves picked locks, but being able to feel the inside of one with his senses made it like he had x-ray vision.

Click.

The lock gave in, and the latch opened. Alex held his hand on the knob. Now came the hard part.

"I'm going in alone. Keep a lookout for me. The less anyone sees you with me, the better if things go wrong."

"Don't need to tell me twice," she said, taking a position across from the door. "I'll keep an eye out and knock on the door if there's a problem. Think you can handle that?"

"I'm the outlaw here." Alex smiled. "No need to pretend you're a hardened criminal."

With that, he opened the door and stepped inside before shutting it softly behind him. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. He was in the back room of the store. A single bed lay off to the side with a kitchen nearby to cook in. Sloan must have lived and worked in the same building. Alex noted that the room was empty and snuck to the nearest door, putting his ear up to it so he could listen.

"Another shipment is due soon," he said. "I'll get the supplies over with some of the boys."

"Any problems recently?" Though muffled, Alex recognized the voice as Deputy Silvertooth's voice.

Two options immediately presented themselves to Alex. He could rush in right now and maybe take down Silvertooth, or he could listen and wait. The main problem he saw was he didn't know enough about Silvertooth's curse. If his power was to create copies of himself, this could just be a copy. What would happen if a copy was defeated? Would the original know? Would it affect the original at all? There were too many questions.

"Sam's a problem," Sloan said. "She's still staying on the edge of town, but she's refusing to come inside and find proper work."

"The Appleton kid? Maybe we should take her like we took her brother. She'd learn real quick the way of things if she was working in the mines."

"That might not be necessary. Her farm's about to come to harvest, and she won't be able to do that on her own. Once she breaks from that, she might be more willing to come in."

"You telling me what to do?" Silvertooth's voice took on an edge.

Clatter.

"No, sir. I was only thinking that it would be extra work. The less work you have to do, the better."

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"Keep it that way," Silvertooth said as boots tapped across the floor and a door opened. "You do well to remember that your store exists because we let it exist. Your dirty town exists because we allow it. Good dogs should know to wait to be fed and not yip at their masters."

The door closed, and silence filled the room. Alex waited at the door. He wanted to make sure that Silvertooth was gone. He could probably stop Sloan before he screamed, but that was still a risk.

"Good dogs should know to wait to be fed," Sloan repeated mockingly. "Hah. Without my money, they wouldn't have any food. My supplies keep them off the magistrate's docket. That arrogant little pissant is lucky keeping slaves fed makes me so much money."

Alex decided he had waited long enough. He threw the door open and, in a second motion, tossed his staff like a javelin. Sloan had a moment to look in shock before the staff was up against his throat, manipulated sideways mid-air thanks to Alex's magnetism. Alex walked forward with his hand held out to hold it tight against Sloan's throat. He put a smile on his face as he approached the merchant. All Sloan could do was gasp for air.

"Sorry," Alex said. "I don't want you screaming out while I try to get some answers from you."

He made his way to the door and locked it with a finality. He could have twisted it closed from a distance, but he wanted Sloan to see. He needed the man to understand that it was just Alex and himself in this room. No one was coming to help.

"I'll let that go, but if you scream, I'll kill you. I can figure out what I need to know by reading your ledgers and searching this building if I have to."

He looked into the man's eyes as he approached. There was fear there, though that might have just been the lack of oxygen. Alex waited for him to nod, slowly releasing his staff and calling it back to his hand. Sloan fell to the ground, grasping at his throat and gasping for breath.

"You said you want answers," Sloan said between breaths as he recovered and rose to one knee. "I don't even know who you are."

"'Tin Man' Ortega," Alex said.

Sloan's face paled a ghostly white as the blood drained from his face. Alex figured that the man knew a good bit from trading to get supplies. Of all the people in this town, he would know the name.

"I'm glad my name precedes me with you. You know what I'm capable of then."

"Burning August," Sloan whispered. "An entire island burned to the ground. A king assassinated and an army crushed by just one man."

That was an exaggeration, but Alex wasn't going to correct him. His story kept spreading far and wide and changing with every retelling. It suited the life of an outlaw.

"What would a man like that be doing in a town like this?"

"I'm the one looking for answers here," Alex said, tapping his staff on the ground and causing Sloan to flinch. "When I heard that you had supplies despite the mist, I knew something was going on. Tell me how you get supplies in and out."

There was a look in Sloan's eyes. Alex knew what he was going to say before he said it. Alex reached out along the magnetic lines around him, grabbing a nearby knife from a shelf and flinging it with pinpoint accuracy.

Thunk.

It landed right beside Sloan's head.

"I hope that answers that question," Alex said.

"I understand." Sloan held up both hands, his entire body wet with sweat.

"Then tell me."

"It would be easier to show you," Sloan said, though he was shaking. "Follow me."

"No tricks." Alex pulled the knife from the wall and brought it to his hand. "I don't have to tell you what will happen to you."

Sloan nodded before standing up behind his counter and walking toward the other end. Alex followed after him, noticing stairs that led down into a basement for the first time. Below was what seemed like a normal basement, full of barrels, boxes, and cloth bags. Sloan went up to one of the largest barrels without hesitation. He grabbed onto the spout and turned it.

Click.

Metal hinges creaked as the false front opened to reveal a long, dark tunnel. At the end of it was a bright light, but it was a good distance away—a smuggler's tunnel.

"You don't have a tunnel to the next town," Alex said. "There's no way you have a tunnel long enough to come out on the other side of the mist. That ignores that it would expand over time, seeing as it probably started at the mines."

He forgot he wasn't alone for a moment, so he said his thoughts out loud.

"You're right," Sloan said after a moment, starting down the tunnel. "It's what is at the end of the tunnel that's important."

Alex followed after. His staff echoed as he walked, tapping down on the ground with every other step. He was wary. There was something off about how open Sloan was. There had to be a catch to all of it. There had to be a plot.

"When the mist first became a problem, I had a plan." Sloan's voice echoed in the tunnel. "I had the funds, especially with the Sheriff's support. All I needed was to have a few people dig out the tunnel for me and take one of the abandoned buildings after people were taken to the mines. That those people would disappear to work in the mines soon after helped me keep my secret."

Alex remained silent, focusing his senses on the tunnel around him. Everything in the situation smelled like a trap. He needed to know, but he could tell that the story was a distraction.

They stepped out into the light at the end of the tunnel, and Alex raised his eyebrows. Before him was a slipship, though a small one, floating in the air inside a hollowed-out basement. It had four lodestones attached on both sides at the front and end of the vessel, encircled in metal loops that linked to the hull. A light sail shimmered even in the relative darkness of the hollowed-out building. It had a purposefully flat deck and a single pilot's seat at the back. It was built for one purpose: to haul cargo short distances and nothing more. It would have cost a small fortune, but Alex imagined that Sloan made that and more back by bringing in goods for Goldfist.

Above, the building was completely hollowed out, and even the roof was destroyed. Only the facade remained. Unless someone looked down directly at the building and paid attention, they would never notice that it wasn't a building anymore.

"You have a secret slipship," Alex said, turning to Sloan.

Click.

The hammer cocked on a gun beside him, and Alex smiled. There it was. He had stopped paying attention to his senses for a brief moment. Honestly, who would expect a slip ship to be hidden inside a building?

"Now for a bit of repayment," Sloan said as he pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Alex's ears rang as he held out his hand, calling a repelling force into his hand as a shield. The bullet slowed mid-air as it approached him, its force rotating slower until it stopped. Alex relaxed his hold on the field as he overcame the bullet's kinetic energy. He reached out with his fingers as it slowed, grasping hold of it and inspecting it.

"Clever," Alex said.

Sloan didn't fire more bullets, though he had a revolver. The shock on his face was more than enough to confirm that he wouldn't shoot anymore. It would be harder to stop multiple shots, but it wouldn't look nearly as cool.

"Now." Alex let the bullet drop and swung his staff right for Sloan's head.

Thunk. Thunk.

Sloan fell to the ground, unconscious. Alex checked the man and took his gun before looking back to the airship. He didn't have to look far for a rope to tie Sloan up, and he could carry the man back to the entrance easily enough. However, the slipship presented him with a problem.

"What to do with you?"