When Amanda finally awoke, it was to terror coursing through her veins. She looked around in a panic as her final memory before being knocked out flooded her mind. Ragged breaths escaped from her, but they were muffled by a cloth gag; the noise mixed with the sound of rattling chains as she tried in vain to free herself from the stone slab she’d been lashed to, but to no avail.
“Shh, my dear,” someone said from behind her. She angled her head back towards him, and was met by a figure dressed in a black cloak looming over her, a dagger held in his right hand. Her eyes widened when she saw the blade was already encrusted with dried blood.
“Relax,” the man reassured her. “It will all be over soon.”
He raised the dagger, poising the blade directly over her heart. A muffled scream of sheer panic escaped from Amanda, and she thrashed once more, desperately trying to break free of her restraints one final time.
Then the knife came down, and she was cruelly silenced.
–
“God, what a shithole.”
The tall man adjusted his brown Stetson hat and took a drag on his cigarette before pulling the final stub from his mouth and throwing it on the ground, then grinding it beneath his boot, snuffing out what few embers remained. All around him, the city moved without a care, carriages and people hustling to and fro throughout the streets, nobody even glancing at him as he moved among them, out-of-place as he was.
Alain shifted, adjusting the Ithaca double-barrel shotgun slung over his right shoulder. He’d almost expected more people to be concerned at the shotgun on his back and the Single Action Army revolver on his right hip, but nobody spared him any attention at all, busy as they were. That probably shouldn’t have surprised him the way it did – San Francisco was a steel-and-concrete jungle, where the denizens dressed in well-pressed suits and dresses and everyone seemed to have something important to rush to or fret over. It was a far cry from his jeans and plaid and frontiersman lifestyle, and yet he’d found himself here all the same, thanks to the work drying up.
His brow furrowed at that thought. It seemed like wherever he went, there was less and less work for someone like him with every passing year. It was always the same – he’d settle in a new place for a bit, find some work as a rancher or a farmhand, and then without fail, just a short time later, the farm would die or be bought out by some big company looking to turn a profit, and he’d be cut loose to find his own way yet again, with just his guns and the clothes on his back to keep him company.
There were very few undiscovered places left to stake a claim in the United States these days – ever since the California Gold Rush and the end of the Civil War. He hadn’t been alive to experience the Gold Rush, and he’d been too little to see much of the War, but they were still affecting him even decades after they’d both ended.
He’d come to California in search of more work. He’d found it for a bit, but then his circumstances had changed, same as they always did, and he’d found himself heading north to try and start over yet again. With any luck, San Francisco would just be a stopping point.
He’d only been off the train for a few minutes and he already hated the place. There were too many people here, all fretting over things that were almost certainly inconsequential. The streets were thick with crowds, everyone walking almost shoulder-to-shoulder with each other. It was so loud, too – always someone shouting or some machine going off in the distance, nothing like the quiet farms and frontiers he’d come to appreciate over time.
Oh yeah, and the city smelled, too. Couldn’t forget that.
Alain let out a sigh and tipped his hat a bit to keep the sun out of his eyes as he walked. He reached into his pocket for another cigarette and lit it, then took a drag.
He could already tell it was going to be a hell of a task, trying to find a place to pick up an odd job for a day or two.
“Land of opportunity, my ass.”
–
As expected, a few hours of searching had led to nothing fruitful. He’d come up completely empty in terms of employment prospects, which wasn’t surprising – in a place like this, people wanted something more permanent than what he had to offer. Nobody needed a day laborer for just a few days, or even a few weeks; he’d even inquired about that and still been turned down. No, they wanted someone willing to stay for months. Months. Weeks would be too long for him.
And so, he’d resigned himself to getting some fresh air to try and clear his head while he took stock of the situation. Money was always tight, but he had enough on his person to last him a few days. And if he got truly desperate, he could always part with his Ithaca for a decent price – that’d get him at least a week’s worth of additional money.
Not the Colt, though. He’d never part with the Colt. Anyone who wanted it would have to pry it from his corpse.
Alain’s most recent cigarette finally burned out. He pulled the stub from his mouth and reached for a new one, only to find that his pack was empty. He let out a frustrated sigh, then tossed the empty pack on the ground and continued on his way.
Little money, no prospects, and now no cigarettes. Just his luck.
A sign up ahead told him he was entering the city’s harbor. Alain barely spared it a glance before continuing on anyway. He wasn’t much one for water – in his opinion, if man were meant to swim, God would have given them gills and fins – but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do aside from explore. And besides, the harbor would hopefully have far fewer people milling about than the city streets did, even if it smelled like salt water and fish.
It would have been a solid plan, were it not for the ship docking right at the moment he entered the harbor.
A vein pulsed in his forehead as people began to disembark, pushing their way past him without a care in the world. They were all babbling in strange, accented languages he didn’t recognize, though a few were speaking English, with varying degrees of fluency. Frustrated by the sudden flood of strange people, Alain turned and began to walk away when he heard a woman’s voice call out to him.
“You there, with the hat! I demand you come speak with me!”
Again, a vein pulsed in his forehead. Whoever this woman was, she clearly didn’t understand a thing about minding her manners or not pissing off people armed with shotguns. Still, if she’d wanted to get his attention, she certainly had it now. He turned towards her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he froze.
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The woman was approaching him, and he had to admit, he’d never seen someone who looked quite as exotic as her. She was clad in a fancy white dress that looked like it had come fresh from the Victorian era. Somehow, it was spotless despite the grime that covered the pier they were standing on. She was short, standing just over five feet – a far cry from his six-foot-four. Most striking of all was her appearance, however – she had eerily pale skin and short golden-blonde hair that fell down to just past her ears, and her eyes were, against all odds, a very deep crimson. She was also carrying a small parasol to keep the sun off of her, though it seemed somewhat out-of-place on a day as overcast as this one.
She looked absolutely otherworldly. He couldn’t help but freeze at the sight of her. It was a wonder that the other people on the boat weren’t staring at her the way he was, but then again, perhaps they’d simply had time to grow accustomed to her during their voyage.
She stopped a short ways away, giving him a haughty look. After a moment, she sniffed.
“You’ll do, I suppose,” she said.
“I’ll do?” Alain echoed. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“I am new to this land. My servant and I require a guide.”
“Your servant?”
Footsteps from behind him caught his attention, and Alain whipped around, one hand instinctively falling to his holstered Colt. His eyes widened when he saw the giant man who’d come up behind him so suddenly – he was even taller than Alain was, standing about six-foot-seven, with a tan complexion and dull green eyes. He carried himself very stiffly, and had an even expression on his face despite the fact that Alain’s hand was on the butt of his revolver. The giant man was dressed in an immaculate black suit that somehow fit him perfectly, with a deep red undershirt and a red tie. About the only thing he had in common with Alain was his black hair.
“Introduce us, would you?” the woman said dismissively.
The tall man’s mouth curled into what had to be a smile, though it looked utterly unnatural on him. “But of course, my lady.” He cleared his throat. “Greetings, traveler. You have had the privilege to be directly addressed by Her Grace, the queen-to-be Lady Sable. If only most mortal men would be so lucky.”
Alain was taken aback. He stared for a moment before clearing his throat. “And you are?”
“I am Az, butler to Lady Sable.”
“Alain Smith,” he offered, despite his reservations. His southern drawl sounded out-of-place compared to whatever exotic European accent these two had. “And what’s this I hear about her being a queen-to-be?”
“It’s simple, really,” Sable offered, coming up alongside him. She unfolded a small paper fan and began to softly wave it in front of her face, never once losing that stuck-up expression on her face. “I am to be the future Queen. But until that day, I am simply a queen-to-be.”
“Queen of what?”
“Everything.”
Again, Alain could only stare in surprise. “Quite the lofty goal.”
“Indeed.”
“Most mortals would be satisfied with being the boss of their own company.”
“I am not most mortals. Now then, when can you depart?”
“Depart?” Alain asked. “What do you mean?”
“The lady intends to hire you for your expertise when it comes to traversing the area,” Az interjected. Alain looked to him in surprise. After a moment, Az said, “We need you to direct us to the next town.”
“Well, I’m sorry to say that you’ve got the wrong guy,” Alain offered. “I’m new to the area, myself. Just got off the train this morning.”
“Trains…” Sable said, that same dismissive tone creeping into her voice. “I do not trust them. Steel-metal death traps controlled by fallible, mortal men.”
“It’s a big country, lady. Can’t always travel by boat.”
“I prefer flying, actually.”
That did it – these two were nuts. “Well, however you prefer to get around is none of my business. I’ll just be leaving now.”
Alain made it one step before Sable called out to him.
“Perhaps I can make it worth your while,” she said.
Alain stopped. Without looking back, he said, “How much money are we talking?”
“I do not deal in paper currency – too easy to lose or damage. What I do deal with, however, is the currency of our forefathers – jewels, gold, silver… favors.”
“Jewels, gold, and silver are much more my speed,” Alain told her, turning back around to face her. “I’ll ask again – how much are we talking?”
Sable snapped her fingers. Az stepped forward, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small box and offered it to Alain, who accepted it with confusion before opening it. His jaw dropped at what he saw.
“Is this real…?” he asked.
“Hm. You would doubt the authenticity of something from my family’s personal collection?” Sable demanded.
“No, no, I just… that’s a big diamond, lady. You can’t blame a guy for wanting to make sure.”
“Take that knife on your belt and try to scratch it. That will tell you if it’s real or not.”
Alain did as he was told, drawing the massive hunting knife from the left side of his belt and gently scoring the steel blade against the top part of the jewel. To his amazement, it didn’t leave a mark at all. Satisfied, he sheathed the blade, then closed the box and handed it back to the butler, who swiftly pocketed it.
“Let me just get this straight,” he said slowly. “You’re willing to offer me that diamond for, what, taking you to the next town?”
“Indeed,” Sable confirmed.
“Seems a little too good to be true, don’t you think?”
“I am willing to pay handsomely for a man who carries himself the way you do. These other people walk and talk as if they have nary a clue how the real world works. You are not like that, however – you walk like a man with purpose and confidence. That tells me that you are someone who can be trusted.”
“If you say so,” Alain replied. “Alright, get whatever it is you’re going to need and follow me. We’ll head out now, if that’s alright with you.”
Sable nodded. She snapped her fingers again, and Az bent down to grab a giant bag. Alain expected him to buckle under the weight of it, but he didn’t seem to care, instead picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder as if it were filled with nothing but air. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that, but ultimately said nothing, instead setting off at a brisk walk, Sable and Az following behind him.
These two were certainly strange, not to mention suspicious, but that diamond was tempting enough that he was willing to take a chance. And besides, as big and intimidating as Az was, he didn’t seem to have any weapons on him.
The three of them started walking together, Alain still uncertain about where exactly he was supposed to be taking them. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he very nearly ran into someone as they rounded a corner.
“Sorry,” Alain said, sidestepping the man just in time. “Wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s quite alright, my boy,” the man replied. “In fact, I was just-”
The man suddenly trailed off, and at the same time, Alain became aware of the fact that Sable and Az were no longer keeping pace with him. He turned around, and saw that Sable and the strange man were staring at each other. For the first time, Alain was able to take in the man’s appearance – he was a bit shorter than Alain, with a fading hairline and a large beard, and was dressed in some kind of military uniform, though it wasn’t one that Alain recognized. He had a sword of some kind sheathed at his waist, but as strange as that was, it paled in comparison to his eyes, which were a striking red, similar to Sable’s. Alain scarcely had time to dwell on the matter, however, before the strange man suddenly cleared his throat.
“Ah, but where are my manners?” he said, taking Sable by the hand. “What is your name, my lady?”
“Sable,” she answered.
“Sable,” he repeated. He gave her hand a chaste kiss. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, my lady. And your two servants?”
“Az,” the giant man replied.
Alain’s brow furrowed. “I’m no servant.”
“Ah, a difficult one? Fret not, my lady – he will come around in due time,” the strange man told her with a smirk. “Anyway, but I must be going now. It was good fortune that brought us together, friends, and I sincerely hope that we may all meet again under happy circumstances once more.”
“Yeah, okay,” Alain deadpanned. “And who are you supposed to be, exactly?”
“You may call me Norton,” the man answered. “Not my full title, of course, but there will be time for such formalities later. For now, as I mentioned, I simply must be going. Safe travels!”
With that, Norton turned and left them, marching off down the street by himself. Alain watched him go for a moment, then let out a tired sigh.
Wherever these people had come from, they were certainly out of touch and out of their element. It would pay for him to be on his toes around them for the duration of the job.
Hopefully, it would be a short one.
“Weird-ass town…” he muttered as he began walking again.