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Rusted Waters
Pallbearer I

Pallbearer I

Beau was having a decidedly bad day.

In all honesty, it had been nothing but bad days since he sent the kid away. Between the Delouk's personality and Beck's... recent history, though, it would be like keeping a lit lantern on a loose hook in a warehouse full of Intonian powder. Hell, the boy had tried to shoot him on his way in.

Regardless, Magir's boys got wind of some Riders in the area, so it was up to him and the mobile skeleton to search and clear the place. Neither of them had spotted any sign of the things yet, but that didn't mean too much; the mountain was full of caves and switchbacks that the undead could hide in. Still, it was odd that he hadn't heard about any attacks yet.

A rider came racing around the bend, drawing the Sheriff from his thoughts. Once they were within yelling distance, both pulled their horses to a stop. "Trouble in town, Sheriff! Somebody went and attacked that guy what's stayin' with ya!"

Beck. Beau spurred his horse and took off. Thankfully, he hadn't been far, but every moment he wasn't there was another chance for the boy to get himself killed.

A crowd had gathered in front of his office. A pit began to form in his gut. Jumping from his horse, he sprinted to the door and threw it open. The knot unraveled, mostly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Beck sat in the cell at the back, with the dead satyr crouched directly in front of him. Neither showed any evidence of serious injuries.

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The Sheriff's presence should have been a balm on his nerves.

Instead, he felt his muscles tense as the man's boots clacked across the floor. The look on his face... He looked almost like Pa. The man rested his head against the bars. "Why'd you do it, son?" Beck dropped his gaze to the ground. "I told you what to do. I know you didn't have time to do it all. So why'd you come back?"

"I couldn't... I..." He sighed, "I don't know. I just, couldn't get it outta my head. Now, I..."

"Jumbuck" rose to its feet. "I told him the story. Quoted that book like a priest."

The Sheriff sighed. "Gryder, go do what you came here for. I'm gonna have a talk with my Deputy."

The skeleton simply shrugged. "Fine by me."

The human waited for a few moments after it left to turn back to him. "I know things've been hard, 'specially with what happened to your folks. But I sent you off for a reason."

"Yeah, so I wouldn't hurt the Church's _special boy_. I still don't understand why he gets special privileges."

The man sighed and gripped one of the bars. "Now just that, boy. I got a letter the day I sent you two on your hunt. They think there's Grim Riders somewhere nearby, and-"

"And you sent me off to hunt for a uniform so I wouldn't get involved. Because that's how I get better at fightin' rotters."

"I sent you to hunt for a bunch 'a reasons, and none of em had anything to do with bein' a better fighter. You're far from bein' a full fledged deputy, son. Dealin' with demonspawn and fightin' a war against the Dread Dead Reverend are two very different things."

Beck locked eyes with the Sheriff on that last sentence. "It wasn't just the elemimps. There were two Devils down there."

His eyes widened. "Well, shit. You shoulda told me when you came up. How are y'all even alive?"

The young man shrugged. "I made up a spell to drown one of em while Clink had it distracted. Kenna and Mason fought the other. Almost had my arm burned off."

"You made up a spell. And this is on top of Ice Bullet?" He nodded. "What's this spell do?"

"It shoots water outta a focus gun pretty hard. Got the idea from one 'a the big machines down there."

A moment passed while the Sheriff rubbed his forehead. "That's... A lot to think about. If I'd known that was down there, I never woulda sent a buncha kids in. Just makes you bein alive all the more impressive. Still, even with that in mind, you ain't ready to take on a group 'a Riders. They'll fill you full 'a holes soon as you pop up."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"And I'm supposed to go around killin' animals? What happens after I get the uniform made? Just keep huntin'?! I didn't come here just to be told what to do! I'm here to do what's right."

"And what do you think is right, Beck? Killin' a Delouk just cause he's somethin' you don't like? He dies if he hurts an innocent man."

"How was I supposed to know that? Far as I knew, he coulda just slaughtered a whole town! You just said he was an ass! Not that he was rotter! Or anything about what he could or couldn't do! How are you gonna blame me for tryin' to protect people?"

Another sigh escaped the Sheriff's lips. "I'm just tryin' to protect you, son. There's a reason for everything. I just need ya to trust me."

Beck shook his head. "I can't do that. Not when you hide stuff from me. Important stuff. I'm tired 'a people just expectin' me to know something, or to go along with what they want when they ain't told me nothin'. I need to know why you want me to do somethin', not just what you want me to do."

After a moment of silence, the older man pulled the cell door open. "Come on. Get outta there. Might as well get some use outta you while you're here."

Just as the cell door closed, a shadow passed over the doorway. Beck quickly found that Kenna had wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug. "I came as soon as I heard! Are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

The Sheriff chuckled. "He will be, if ya don't loosen up on him. Looks like he's about to pop."

She let out an "oh" and dropped him. "Are you okay?"

Beck just waved her off as he steadied himself. "Don't worry about it. I'll be alright."

The human cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds, but we weren't done. Since you want to fight so bad, why don't you come along? Join me and the Delouk in lookin' for Grim Riders. You find 'em, you get to shoot em. How's that sound?"

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He hadn't been expecting to get paired with the skeleton. Now, the two of them rode along ridges and slopes, searching for anywhere the rotters may have hidden themselves. Thankfully, the skeleton didn't carry the stench of rot that he would normally associate with undead, so he should be able to pick up on a scent trail if they came across it.

As it stood, though, the only thing he could smell were the horses, which he had never been taught to ride. So far, he hadn't spooked the beast, though the local wildlife seemed determined to do so to both of them. So far, he had mainly just let it follow Jumbuck's horse, applying as little pressure to it as possible when he needed it to move or turn.

Still, the sparse Joshua trees interspersed among low-lying grasses and cacti provided a nice contrast to the red dirt beneath, and to the vast blue where it met the ocean near to the horizon. If it weren't for his situation, he would love nothing more than to sit and watch as the sun's passage painted the land in light and shadows throughout the day, but as it stood, he was forced to keep his eyes trained on the path in front of them for all but the briefest of glances.

After hours of nothing but riding, the sun began to set behind the mountains, casting their shadows across the land and painting the rest in the reds, yellows, and purples of the sunset.

Then he caught it. No more than a flash, a brief reflection of the setting sun. Far above them, more than three-quarters of the way up the mountain, he could just barely make out the shape of a cave, and in its mouth, the glint of something metallic. Just to be safe, he turned once more to face the downward slope before speaking. "Found somethin'. Cave up the mountain, facin' west. Somethin' shiny in there. Might be what we're lookin' for."

The skeletal satyr kicked its horse into a trot, and Beck made to follow suit. "Might be. We'll go 'round, see if we can't get up to em from behind. Go ahead and call your boss. He's gon' wanna know."

Beck was silent for a moment. "How do I do that?"

Jumbuck look back at him. "Did he teach you anything? Your badge. Push some mana into it or somethin'."

At least it was a starting point. The young man ran his fingers across the bronze surface of his badge until he felt a familiar tug on his mana. He pushed as instructed, and felt something... connect. Beck? You okay, kid?

Suddenly having the Sheriff's voice in his head was certainly shocking, but he didn't have time to ask questions. Yet. Think we might've found em. Ways up the mountain, facing west. We're goin' rightways up the mountain, gonna try to sneak up on em.

The response took a moment. Yeah, I see it. Checked the place a few days ago, nothin there. They mighta moved in since then. Be careful. We'll come in from the other way.

Beck nodded, though he wasn't sure if it transferred over their connection. See you there.

The moment he stopped supplying mana to the badge, the connection died.

It was dark when they dismounted, some hundred or so feet from the mouth of the cave. The satyr raised a finger and placed it against its teeth even as the snake in its skull let off a very soft rattle. It drew a pair of knives, prompting Beck to draw his own. The pair of them crept forward, the soft dirt helping to hide the sounds of their footfalls.

As they grew closer, a very particular stench invaded Beck's nostrils. A corpse, left in the midday sun for hours, if not days. The same smell that had pervaded the area around Dryharbor before they left.

That brought another thought, unbidden, to his mind: he had left without even a word of goodbye to his Aunt Marina. Sure, she made him uncomfortable, but that was no reason to disappear. He could only hope that Kennett had explained what he was doing to her, and that she wasn't worried overly much.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be getting emotional about family matters. People were in danger. Before he had even realized it, they were right up at the edge of the cave.

Without warning, the satyr separated from the stone they had pressed themselves against and stepped out into the open, directly in front of the cave's mouth. "Hey there, fellers. How's things goin?"