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Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was a good thing we weren’t set to leave the town for another day. Emma and the Mayor stayed up long into the night, and that left Clint and I little opportunity to sneak off and get some rest. Luckily, I didn’t have to speak much, as Emma was quick to keep the conversation between her and the Mayor flowing, and any time he began asking questions about Clint, and me, she diverted.

That didn’t mean the man didn’t get more than a few little tidbits from us, that I’d preferred to have kept hidden. Most annoyingly, was that he learned I had multiple affinities. Not all four, mind you. That was a secret I still hadn’t told Clint or Emma. Only the Marshal knew that secret, far as I knew. But the Mayor did learn about my ability to use fire and wind mana. And at Emma’s behest, I’d shown him and his family, as if I were some circus animal. I didn’t right appreciate being treated like some strange oddity, but between how tired I was, and Emma’s kind way of asking, well, I’d relented.

All that aside, once we finally did get to rest, my sleep had been, well, less than restful. My mind raced, as I knew the world was moving in ways I couldn’t control or predict. By now, I knew Holiday would have reached St. Louis with Thomas. Were they moving right along to New York from there? Or did the Marshal have a different place to take the scum that was to be his prime source of evidence to use against Bloody Bill?

And at the same time, I knew Bloody Bill’s men would be arriving at the remains of Emma’s town today, since I was certain it was well past midnight by the time I finally laid my head down. How long would it take them to get word back to Bloody Bill about what had happened? Would they turn right back around, or would they try and seek out information about what had happened from nearby towns? If that were the case, well, they’d have to travel by foot. Putting them at least five days, if not a full week, away from Bison’s Rest. And that was assuming they even knew the town’s location.

It wasn’t much of a lead, in the grand scheme of things, but it was one we could ideally keep. The more distance we put between ourselves, and what had happened at Pickam’s Fort, the better. It’d be best if we could disappear into obscurity as we traveled north towards the Dakota’s. I didn’t want the Mountain Man catching word that Pickam’s killer was on his trail, nor did I want any unsavory sorts, including Bloody Bill’s men, searching for the mysterious man who could use two types of mana.

Past all of that, there was the matter of the Order of the Golden Circle still. I had no idea what resources they had, or what they were even like. Who worked with them, who served them, who reported to them? How would I know if I was crossing paths with one of their sorts? And what would happen if I did? Paranoia did a good job of keeping people alive, but it also wore on the mind something fierce. And thanks to the Marshal’s less than forthcoming bit of information regarding the mysterious organization, I had plenty to be paranoid about.

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My hand found the warm ruby at my neck as I lay in bed, trying push all the thoughts away, and finally get some sleep. Judging by my internal clock, I’d only get a few hours before day was here and we needed to be up and about. Tomorrow, the caravan to Lincoln would leave Bison’s Rest. We had a wagon as part of that caravan, with Emma acting as a traveling merchant, and Clint and I her dutiful wagon guards. We still needed to double-check everything that was packed and sorted though and use our single day at Bison’s Rest before then, to stock up on any other supplies we may need for the trip.

Traveling with a group, in theory, would help us disappear even more. Yet I couldn’t help but feel irritation at the plan. For one, it meant I’d have little to no proper privacy between now and our arrival at Lincoln. That meant I couldn’t practice the Tempest Shot, nor could I experiment with my other mana types, lest I risk drawing unwanted attention to myself, and the spreading of tales that would damn my efforts to stay hidden.

Past that, it meant well, dealing with people. Having spent the last four years since Randal’s death almost constantly alone, I didn’t do well around other people. Sure, I’d frequented towns and Saloons, but only for short trips. Meant to either rest, grab supplies, or track down information. Actually… being a part of a group, for any duration of time that extended more than a day, was uncomfortable for me, to say the least.

And yet, this caravan would take about ten days to travel the over a hundred miles we needed to Lincoln. Had it just been the three of us, and had we each acquired a second horse, we’d be able to cut that time in half, if not more. However, three people arriving in Lincoln, with obvious signs of intent to travel quickly, was a lot more suspicious than a caravan of traders coming up from Kansas to Nebraska. Much as I hated it, there was logic to the plan.

But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

My anger flared for just a moment, as I lamented everything that had happened up until this point. I felt my mana answer, my fingers warming as my flames fought to the surface of my skin. As if in response, the ruby round my neck, still clasped in my hand, warmed as well. I calmed my mind, pushed my fire mana back down, and took a long breath, breathing in mana, pushing it into my core, losing myself in the meditative process of Soul Breathing.

As my heart calmed, my mind settled, and I drifted off to sleep, the warmth of the ruby against my flesh, still clasped gently in my right hand, a strange comfort, as darkness welcomed me.