The hawk-nosed gunman locked eyes with the knife-man. The tension at its highest, the body of the lead shapeshifters, Galtero, rendered human and mortal by its true name, lay at DaFaca's feet. The knife-man stepped over the body. "Hola, Nico."

The hawk-nosed Nico remained silent.

"Mateo served Galtero," DaFaca gestured back at Galtero's crumpled form, "They chose not to bow to the service of the Escuridon. What will you do?"

Teven jumped in shock as the diableros moved as one, perhaps at the silent, telepathic command of the hawk-nosed Nico. The coal-black mounts bolted, galloping south. DaFaca was a blur. Knives, of what seemed to Teven to be enchanted silver, struck home on several attacking diableros with little effect. The knife-man yelled a few more names, but to his and Teven's confusion, it did not have the desired effect of rendering the creatures human and mortal. Even among the supernatural, the tales of how very difficult it was to kill a diablero seemed true.

DaFaca, still calling out the true names of the diableros, chose a new set of blades, these too hinted of silver, but Teven was by now too preoccupied by diableros who noticed he was not fighting alongside them.

Juan Semos, still possessed by a diablero, charged Teven with a macuahuitl. Teven looked down at his own body, he may have been possessed, but they'd not trusted him and Van with weapons. Teven placed himself between Van and Juan Semos as the possessed vaquero closed the distance with three more shifters following.

DaFaca called the names of the diableros with no effect, and so, hurled his silver-like blades. His true name called, Juan Semos fell to the ground, spared a blade by the taxed but skillful DaFaca. Not for mercy so much as necessity, the Watcher likely held a finite number of blades or chose not to have his own weapons turned against him. Teven backed away as a blade sunk into the ground at his feet. His eyes darted from the silvery knife to its source. DaFaca made eye contact with him and nodded. Teven snatched up the knife.

The ground shook and a deep rumble sounded in Teven's ears, felt more than heard, among the din of battle. Tearing himself away from the chaotic dance of supernatural creatures, Teven turned to finally see an expression on Van's face. Van stood, stooped forward, a mask of intense rage distorting his face, his mouth agape in a silent roar, and the ground rippling around him.

*

Christian threw his arms up. "Who the hell is Victoria Vargos?"

Hernan sat against the vivid red rock while Marcos and the two vaqueros shared another cigarette, taking care to stay clear of the gunpowder charges.

Sende raised her hands. "She wanted Galtero to join her against the…"

Marcos gripped Sende's wrist, causing all to fall silent and stare.

Christian frowned. "The hell? Let her go."

Hernan removed Marcos' hand. "We do not say that name, Sende."

Christian snorted. "You mind making an exception for me? Right now I'm pretty sure it don't matter. Those shapeshifters are out there, somewhere."

Sende ran her fingers over her wrist. "The Darkness. Señora Vargos…"

"The fucking Darkness? They're called the Darkness?"

Sende nodded. "Yes, our ancient masters. Señora Vargos wished for Galtero to join an uprising of the people against them."

"The Darkness. Just a name. Just a name." Christian paced in the small area available to him. "I guess they never wanted to steal the herd. Hold on, if Gasento is dead, why are the diableros hunting us?"

The Semos cousins shared glances.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Sende glanced at Hernan. "Perhaps they sought the cattle too, but they are after cattle of a different sort, human cattle. Souls."

"Sure, I guess souls are like gold for this crowd. Doesn't matter who you are, gold fever will take ya. Still, if they want souls, why aren't they runnin' around availin' themselves of the natives, the Texans, and folks? Plenty of souls out here, spaced out as they may be."

Hernan dragged a hand across his face. "They might. The Escuridado are not the Darkness, we are all ‘Escuridado' in their minds, descendants of those who survived and emerged from the Third World into this Age. Vargos and her kind need to sustain their army, with both a mortal and magical means of funding. All wars are fought with money and men. Weapons paid for and men to wield them."

Christian crossed his arms, all of the Southwest was in danger. "So who are they? Vargos and this army?"

"Revolutionaries. They see all who live here as slaves to," Hernan paused, "to the ‘Darkness', and have taken no particular name, but they work with the political group known for seeking to form a Caddo Republic."

"Caddites." Christian shifted his weight. "Yeah, but they seem pretty damned intent on hunting us. Maybe they know you saw Galtero die."

Sende placed her hand on Christian's arm. He looked at it and back at her as she spoke. "I thought so as well, until Señor Long returned. I think they want your souls."

*

Standing beside Van on the rippling desert sand, Teven studied the knife DaFaca had thrown, with purpose, at his feet. The triangular blade was not silver, ensorceled or otherwise. Smooth, it possessed a polished wood appearance, silver in sheen and the look of an Arkansas toothpick. Diableros being vulnerable to white ash, these blades appeared to be a special form of ash wood. DaFaca moved with deft skill between the two-dozen attackers, throwing, recovering and slicing with his ash wood knives. The diableros in turn, slashed with black crystal macuahuitl weapons, their saw-like edge drawn back against the light-absorbing suit of DaFaca with no visible damage. It made sense for DaFaca to be protected from the lesser weapons of the people over which he watched. Still, the two-dozen shifters continued their withering assault, falling before him.

Wary, Teven watched for any further diableros to turn from DaFaca to attack. They now seemed focused on the Watcher and his ash wood blades. Teven dragged Juan Semos closer to Van, the air around him pulsed, its pressure felt in waves on Teven's body, emanated from Van. Debris, sand, and pebbles rose suspended around them. Teven rolled his tongue in his mouth, but could not clear the metallic taste as his hair and those on his skin began to stand on end. "Van?"

A loud, eerie, hellish chord sounded, which caused Teven to whirl around and seek its source. So much had changed in mere minutes. DaFaca stood holding the oddest, yet beautiful, weapon.

Like Dafaca's suit, the weapon was jet-black such that light seemed unable to escape it. At its heart, the hilt, an x-like, figure-eight, bucket-guard lay at the center of two rough and cracked crystal cones and a bending of the air at the ends of the tips. The total length of the arcane weapon was almost seven feet, widest at the base of the cones to the hilt at half a foot wide.

*

The grating sound continued, crystal against crystal. Galtero Gasento, neck and chest cut open, held an identical weapon against DaFaca's.

The hawk-nosed Nico stepped beside Galtero and smiled. "My choice? There is no choice. I serve Señora Vargos."

DaFaca twisted away. "Vargos?"

Galtero shifted into her own form, the olive-skinned, raven-haired appearance of Victoria Vargos.

She grinned. "Watcher."

The diableros maintained a ring around DaFaca as the Watcher shifted his defensive stance, one end of the weapon pointed at Vargos. "Victoria Vargos? How is it I did not sense you or that Ouroboros?"

DaFaca deflected a harsh blow from Vargos, the air twisted with the distortion emanating from the ends of the Ouroboros weapon, knocking Nico and the forward-most diableros to the ground. Vargos stood fast, her weapon held above her head, with arms bent and palms faced up. Like the Watcher, Vargos unsheathed the arcane weapon from a spatial pocket in which Watchers sheathed and stored their Ouroboros.

DaFaca lowered his body, with his knees bent and feet apart. "You're wearing of Galtero's skin doesn't account for the use of your Watcher's Ouroboros blade."

Vargos swung her blade around. "I'm no skinwalker, my family is descended from those who reverse-engineered and crafted these cosmic blades for your Escuridon masters. My people will not serve."

With a savage, downward thrust, Vargos' arm doubled its length, snaked behind and slashed DaFaca across his back and ribs, cutting through the black, otherworldly coat. The Watcher stumbled but kept his blade ready, as tentacles erupted from the dirt, seized DaFaca and swung him down as Vargos hammered him into the ground again and again.

*

Surrounded by floating debris, Teven watched, bewildered. Beneath his feet the ground shifted, radiating out around Van, drawing the attention of the rear diableros, while twenty feet away, Vargos held DaFaca with tentacles sunken into the ground from her legs, her stolen Ouroboros blade arcing down on the Watcher.

The rumble grew, but it was a voice that drew Teven's attention, Van's voice and a name.

"Aleya."

The ground erupted in a torrent of light, rock, and dirt. The displaced blast of air threw everyone aside, with Teven at its epicenter and Van the source.