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La Curandera Volume II - A Storm Is Coming

by Dissident Love

copyright 2013

In the western part of the land known as the Painted Death, where once upon a time great cities dotted the landscape like flies on a carcass, there is a peculiar geological formation known as the Bloody Foothills. This is due to an understandable error on the part of the various mapmakers and translators that have come before, but is still admirably close to the original moniker, which was simply the Bloody Foot Hills.

This misshapen and frankly off-putting lump of twisted stone and shifting sand is some ten miles across, as the sun moves, and maybe twice that perpendicular. A determined hiker could go completely around the perimeter in one day if he so chose, although by the end of it he might find his hair falling out in clumps and very few people unwilling to question his sanity.

The Hills originally acquired their nickname the way most such nicknames are acquired: walking on the Hills generally caused your feet to bleed, and it was a lot simpler of a name than the slightly more accurate 'Bloody Foot, Then Hands, Then Nose, Then Ears, Then Eyes, Then Everything Else Hills'. Generally when your feet started to bleed, you leave the area in question and never think about roaming ever again.

It's not as though it's an unknown region, a trap that lures droves to their untimely deaths. Signs surround the Hills for miles in all directions, in many languages, in no uncertain terms. That said, there is a road that comes up to the Hills, a great wide and straight road, and passes directly through them. There is also a newer road, smaller but well-maintained, that takes the long way around. At the last count by the Rangers, maybe three people venture to try the Old Road in a given year, and slightly less than half of them return.

If the people of this land had a word for 'radiation', it would be on every sign.

The rocks seem to reach skywards in organic, branchlike formations, as though the very stones had melted and were dripping upwards, lured by some strange oppositional form of gravity. The bushes shook and sometimes made screeching noises, those few insects that lived in the Hills could take town a good-sized rabbit, and on a starless night the entire lumpy mound could be seen from miles away, glowing faintly blue.

Odella looked out on all of this from hir bedroom window, admiring the way the sunrise caused the striated rock spires to cast long, flickering shadows, the way distant stormclouds were transformed into spectacular floating mountains of silver and gold.

"I missed you," shi said, one small black-tipped paw stroking the glass, leaving dusty little streaks.

"We missed you, too, m'lady," said a deep, sleepy voice from somewhere among the mound of pillows and blankets that comprised the bed.

Odella smiled. "That's nice," shi said softly. "They grow so fast, don't they?"

"You weren't gone THAT long... although to be fair, I was never very good with calendars. What year is it?"

"Quiet, you," shi chided the mound. "I'll work my wickedness upon you."

"Mmmm, so early?"

The nude coati just rolled hir eyes and went back to staring out the window, enjoying the interplay of natural sunlight interacting with the still-glowing rocks. "Maybe not that much wickedness," shi murmured. "These walls have ears."

"That's just a bit of mold," Kenyon drawled, one huge finger tugging aside the blankets to expose a black, bleary eye. "I'll take care of it in the morning."

"It is morning."

"I didn't say which morning."

Odella stretched, rising up onto hir tiptoes, arms raised high overhead, feeling everything from hir ankles to hir neck creak and pop. Shi was still working the kinks out of hir body after long weeks of travel, and so rarely did shi get the opportunity to wander around without several protective layers of corsets and leathers.

A rhythmic thumping reached hir ears, and shi didn't need hir Sight to know it was Kenyon's tail. He was watching hir... he was always watching hir. He had never been able to conceal his moods or his intentions from hir, but more to the point he was unique in that he'd never really tried to. Shi turned slightly to face him, bringing more of hir spectacular bosom into view, and sure enough the thumping accelerated.

"Got your energy back already, hmm?" shi asked throatily, one paw resting comfortably on hir maleness, the other paw tapping at the underside of hir breasts.

"Mercy," the enormous fox pleaded sleepily. "The prisoner requests three more hours of rest and a big bowl of oatmeal."

The curandera rolled hir eyes and grinned, walking carefully over to the wardrobe. Without any supportive undergarments, hir body had a tendency to start wobbling and could take quite a while to stop. "You get one more hour and some road-granola, honey," shi said. "We're going down to Bayside today, remember?"

"Bmmmlrrrg," he mumbled affirmatively when Odella was no longer visible, his tail drooping.

"One hour! Don't forget!"

The only reply was a soft snore. Shi glared affectionately at his tail, swishing back and forth as it always did when he drifted off into his placid, pleasant dreams. He had always been a big sleeper, while Odella bemoaned hir over-abundance of energy. Would that shi could spend all day lounging in bed with hir husband, but sadly, sometimes duty came first.

And when that duty involved purchasing basic staples of homestead life, such as uncontaminated salt and coffee and lingerie, sometimes sleep had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

Wrapping hir black robe around hir exotic body, skilfully hemmed over the years until it fit hir like a glove, shi tiptoed out of their room, down the stairs and, after a brief pause to restoke the big cast-iron stove, headed outside.

There were no neighbors, and the ramshackle home was situated roughly in the centre of the jagged-edged bowl valley, so there was no real door that could be considered the front. One door opened off of the kitchen into the herb garden, one off the den into the pepper patch, and one off the dry goods storage into the corn. Gravel paths twisted and wove through the complex patchwork of gardens, carefully bridged to cross the meandering streams that kept everything irrigated.

A hundred yards to the south, water burbled and spouted steadily out of the ground, the natural spring that made their idyllic life possible. What rare visitors they had were usually unnerved by the grotto that surrounded the spring, a pool of greasy black water studded with sick-looking mushrooms that, if you watched carefully, slid and humped their way clockwise along the shore. Virulent green mosses shrouded the rocks, and the entire area seemed heavy with orange haze, visible even in full daylight.

And yet, the two wide creeks that departed the grotto were clear and sparkling.

"Looks normal," shi murmured, nudging one of the mushrooms with hir toe until it scooted out of hir way.

Odella was forbidden from using hir powers for personal gain, but shi didn't think any cosmic auditor was going to appear out of the mists like a plagueship and punish hir for hir blatantly selfish ways. Really, if it hadn't happened by now, there was probably nothing shi couldn't get away with if shi tried.

Shi walked slowly around the grotto, toxic mosses squishing underneath hir paws, humming thoughtfully to hirself and making sure everything was as it should be. The entire day before had found hir perched on the largest mushroom, a fat slick toadstool nearly two feet across, rebuilding the wards and sigils that transformed the acrid spout into something slightly more palatable and less fatal, but should shi be called away again, on an even longer mission, shi didn't want anything to go wrong. They had stored water, sure, but with how much oatmeal and tea they went through, how long could that last?

You're being silly, shi told hirself. They can handle themselves. They'll be fine without you.

That thought, oddly, did not ease hir worries.

---

Far to the north-east, where a seemingly endless, impassable expanse of mountains marked the grave of countless explorers, a storm was brewing.

It was not a new occurrence. The handful of scattered settlements that lined the two major roads were beginning to think that the pale peaks would never be seen again, half a dozen years blocked by the black, crackling, foreboding clouds. Those that were more superstitious, or who relied on the increasingly off-colored streams that trickled out of the mountains, had already fled. Those that remained, those that were unperturbed by clouds which glowed violet-green at midnight, were unlikely to be budged by anything

Gusts and currents that should have long ago tumbled away, releasing the pent up turbulence, found themselves gently turned away. Tiny, imperceptible changes in air pressure kept the aberrant weather front contained, but even now they struggled to break free, chomping at the bit like the Devil's own herd.

If you happened to be atop one of those mountains on this day, and if you happened to be lucky enough to have not succumbed to cold, starvation, lightning or massive organ failure, the laughter coming from the clouds might have been enough to finish you off.

---

Back inside shi found all three kits already preparing breakfast, and shi grinned gratefully when shi detected the familiar and comforting smell of coffee. "You're awfully well-behaved," shi said, checking to make sure they had overfilled the coffee pot the way shi had taught them. It wasn't real coffee unless you could not only stand a pencil up in it, but sharpen it as well.

"You bet!" Pueblo said, racing over to give hir a quick hug before returning to his post at the oatmeal pot.

"Any particular reason?"

"No!" chimed both girls.

Normally Odella was quite in control of hir mind and hir body, but even shi was finding hir composure cracking. Shi had to turn away from them, sticking hir muzzle into a cupboard under the pretenses of searching for the sugar in order to conceal hir smile. "Well! I'm reassured," shi said perfunctorily. "A good repast of oatmeal, then onto the chores, right?"

The only reply was a spoon clattering to the floor. Zora scooted down and picked it up, even though it was clearly Briar's. Bonus points for helping, Odella thought, but you lack subtlety. "Yes, indeed," the curandera continued. "So much to be done! The worms in the tomatoes still haven't been dealt with."

"Nyuh-uh!" Zora said indignantly, trying to stamp her foot and failing; the kitchen chairs were still a little too big for her to reach the ground. "I did that yesterday, and you said I did a good job!"

"Mmm. And doing a good job means you're done?"

"Ye... uhm... uh..." The half-coati scratched her head, trying to unravel the trick to the question. "Yes?"

"We cleaned up the living room! For REAL, this time!" Briar said proudly, just big enough to poke hir entire head over the edge of the table. Shi had hir own chair with longer legs and a cushion, but shi insisted that shi was old enough to use a grown-up chair, thank you VERY much, and could everyone please stop talking to hir as though shi were the youngest. The fact that shi was quite factually the youngest did not seem to enter hir mind.

"That's also good! But why? Just leaves more room for chores." If withering glares could be inherited, Odella thought shi might be able to prove it with the three pairs of eyes that bored through hir. Still, it took more than righteous indignation to out-stare a curandera. "What else are you going to do today? It looks a little stormy to the east, so we need to get done chop-chop. Licketty split."

"But you said-"

"-said we were going down to Bayside to spend the day shopping as a family?" the coati asked, batting hir eyelashes innocently and pouring hirself a mugful of viscous coffee. "When did I say that?"

"In bed this morning," Briar said helpfully, artfully dodging the spoon that Zora hurled at hir head.

"You were listening to us... to me in bed?"

"No!"

"No!"

"Not on purpose!"

Odella thought hir jaw was going to dislocate, the strain of fighting the smile was growing so severe. "Looks like we're going to have to move your bedroom. I'm thinking into the potato cellar. It's nice and soundproof down there..."

"MOM!" they chorused.

"... no-one would ever hear you screaming, and of course you can let me know how the rats are doing. I get so worried when they don't meet their quota of stolen food..."

"STOP IT!"

"... and you could take turns telling scary stories! Maybe ones that don't feature me!"

"Oh, that's different, Mommy," the youngest piped. "Yours aren't scary, because we know you always win!"

Pueblo sighed and nodded. "It kind of takes the drama out of stories about you," he said, "which is why I have to... embellish a little bit."

"Oh, I heard," Odella said dryly. "Riding flying horses, and wielding a broadsword?"

"TWO BROADSWORDS!" Zora yelled, leaping onto her chair, a spoon clutched viciously in each paw. "RAWR! SLASH! SLICE!"

"LIGHTNING BOLT!" Briar cried, holding hir tiny hands out threateningly. "LIGHTNING BOLT! PYEW! PYEW!"

Pueblo prudently avoided his mother's stare while he served up the oatmeal into everyone's bowls. "It... reassures them," he said slowly, dishing the goop up with exaggerated care. "If it's just you walking and eventually whacking someone on the head with a frying pan, they can't go to sleep."

"That was a dangerous, dangerous man," shi explained, lips twitching, "and it was a very, very heavy frying pan. Really, if you'd been there, it would have been MUCH more exciting!"

"If they'd been there," Kenyon rumbled, wandering into the kitchen woozily, overalls only buckled on one side, "I'd have been here all alone, wondering why everything was so quiet. Morning, dear."

"Morning, sweet cheeks," Odella replied, swatting his rump as he passed.

"GROSS!" Zora said, aghast. She was at that strange age where, more than anything, she wanted to know all about 'adult business', but was simultaneously horrified by the slightest displays thereof. "Don't do that when we're watching!"

"Ok. Close your eyes, and don't open them until I say," shi grinned wickedly, following Kenyon with exaggerated, predatory steps. "Ken, this might hurt a little bit."

"GROSS!"

"Fine," Odella whined theatrically, dropping down into hir chair with a creak of protesting oak. "Hold that thought until later, love."

"Odella, don't frighten the children," Kenyon boomed sleepily. "Children, don't frighten your mother. Everyone, bring me your oatmeal."

"You mean bring you your oatmeal," Pueblo said.

"I know what I mean, young man."

The kitchen filled with the sounds of merriment and crockery; Odella just sat back and took it all in, holding hir coffee under hir nose and letting hirself slowly wake up. Despite the perpetual state of good-natured argumentativeness, shi knew that it hid their relief at hir safe return. Every time the Work called hir away, some small part of them, hirself included, feared that it would be the last. The life of a curandera was never easy, and the life of a curandera's family... well, all shi had to go on were myths and legends and ancient dire warnings, and how seriously could you take those?

---

An hour and a half later, which was as close to being on time as they were ever likely to get, Odella and hir family rode sedately out of the craggy bowl valley. More specifically, only the coati and hir kits rode in the ramshackle four-wheeled buggy, while Kenyon, harnessed about the neck and shoulders with criss-crossing leather straps and brass buckles, pulled them along at a brisk walk.

"You sure you're doing ok up there, dear?"

Kenyon just waved one hand absently, seemingly unaffected by his burden. Odella had to shake hir head in wonderment, knowing that even if the colossal fox were tired or sore he'd never admit it. Many times they had taken the wagon to town in this fashion, and on each occasion he'd dutifully towed it back home, loaded so full of tins, sacks and sleeping children that shi feared the harness would succumb long before he ever did.

"Can I pull it next time? I'm getting big!"

"No, Pueblo."

"But if Dad can do it, why can't I?"

"Because your father is about twenty times your size."

"Nuh-uh! He's only, like... five times bigger." Pueblo stood defiantly, thin limbs flexing, loose clothing fluttering in the breeze. "I'm getting bigger!"

Odella chuckled, tugging him back onto the wooden bench. "Well, maybe next time. When you can pull the buggy all the way up to the lip of the valley, we'll talk."

"YEAH! DAD, MOM SAID I CAN PULL NEXT TIME!" Kenyon just waved again in response, tail wagging mirthfully.

In the back of the buggy, piled with empty crates and sacks, Zora and Briar were both hunched over, silently scribbling with the dedicated focus that only crayons can elicit. The buggy itself was weatherbeaten and faded, all traces of paint worn away, and everyone's travelling clothes were sturdy shades of grey and brown, which made the bright waxy colors all the more striking. Briar, as usual, was whispering to hirself, just below the limits of Odella's incredibly acute hearing.

Odella was always amazed at some of the ancient treasures Kenyon had pulled out of the Hole. Shi knew what was down there, knew far more than shi ever let on, but shi had never ventured down. Even getting close enough to see the Hole was difficult for hir. Kenyon went down nearly every day, though, as he had for the last fifteen years, and he was as comfortable down there as he was anywhere. For the longest time the coati had wondered if there were something actually wrong with his brain, that he lacked even the most basic sense of fear.

The night he'd brought up the tiny soot-blackened box would always stand out in hir mind. As had become the evening ritual, Kenyon would sit out on the back porch and sift through the enormous burlap sacks that he'd filled with salvaged goods, with the kits watching through the windows. One by one, the huge fox would check each individual item with the strange device that detected the invisible poisons and then sort them into various piles. That little blackened box, though, he'd brought up to his eyes, lifting the flap and peeking inside with an unusual level of secrecy.

Satisfied that everything was safe, he'd bring in the items that he'd selected as gifts and hand them out by the hearth, but that night he only brought in the tiny box. Everyone had stared at it, wondering what such a tiny, dirty paper container could possibly hold, and when Kenyon had lifted the top, everyone had gasped.

There were flowers in the garden of red and violet and gold, but they'd never had anything to draw with except charcoal sticks. The crayons, as Kenyon had called them, were so startlingly vivid as to be almost difficult to look at. After their father assured them that, yes, there were more crayons down in the Hole, the three kits had refused to sleep until every last available scrap of paper and parchment had been covered with every design imaginable.

"Done," Zora said, flipping over one crate that shi had carefully covered with blue-and-pink flowers and selecting another.

"You're cheating!" Briar pouted.

"How can I cheat? They're flowers."

"You're faster at drawing!"

"So how is that cheating?"

Briar's face darkened, but Odella had been around enough young kits to know that the tiny herm generally did not react in the usual manner. "Because it's unfair to compete against someone when there's not a common frame of reference for skill or ability," the seven-year-old said, sticking out hir tongue.

Zora just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever, Big Words. They're just flowers."

Pushed to the very back of the buggy were the two huge, latched crates loaded with the best and most lucrative treasures from down below: metal implements of all shapes and sizes, anything that could be construed as art, intact glass and pottery, and of course viable ammunition. Although the family did not really need to earn a living, given Odella's position, it could not be denied that the village could put the items to good use and it was just as important to teach the children the value of making a contribution.

Odella peered around, expecting to see a familiar four-legged shape darting among the rocks. Johnny, no matter which form he was in, always enjoyed the family's excursions to town, if only so he could surreptitiously speak a few words here and there and frighten the residents. Lately the old spirit had grown fond of a family of coyotes on the far side of the Foothills, often borrowing their bodies and repaying the debt with something filched from the homestead's pantry.

But today, hir friend did not appear. Odella frowned slightly, but shrugged. Even poltergeists had personal lives, shi thought.

As the road began to angle downwards, weaving in between the rusted and ravaged warning signs, Kenyon accelerated to a long, loping trot that he could maintain nearly indefinitely. Leaving shortly after breakfast ensured that they would reach Bayside in time for lunch, and then the inevitable spectacle of bartering their goods in the town square.

The sun was well above them by the time the buggy reached the flat, dusty plain with a jarring thud. Odella pushed everything out of hir mind, focusing all of hir attentions and hir considerable abilities on hir youngest daughter. The whispering to hirself was something that the curandera could come to terms with, but there always seemed to be something more to it, something that shi was missing, and if there was anything Odella hated, it was not knowing something.

"Bye bye," Briar breathed, looking back at the Foothills and waving. "Thanks."

There it is again, Odella thought to hirself. Shi wasn't frustrated, exactly, but shi knew that there was more to Briar's constant subvocalizations than the half-coati let on. Whenever asked, Briar would say that shi wasn't talking to hirself, but when the inevitable follow-up question as to just whom shi was talking to came up, Briar would just shrug and say, "No-one."

Odella could sense spirits. Shi had enjoyed long, fascinating conversations with ghosts, and in fact two of hir oldest friends lacked corporeal bodies. If there was someone or something talking to or through hir youngest child, the curandera could not suss it out. It bothered hir, like a splinter in hir mind.

A quarter of a mile later they reached the junction of the Old Road and the considerably better-travelled New Road. Kenyon waved jovially to the Ranger station as they passed, little more than a battered wooden hut topped by a huge overhanging roof. The Rangers waved back from their rocking chairs, hats pulled low; their position was not one of unbridled excitement and adventure.

Pueblo was sprawled bonelessly on the front bench with his legs thrown over the back and his head hanging near Odella's legs, nose buried in a book. Kenyon brought heaps of them out of the Hole, but most of them were faded beyond recognition and were invaluable as firestarters. Some of them were in good enough condition to read but were rarely intact enough to make sense. A few years before, though, the fox's careful excavation had uncovered a colossal depository of books, and much thinner volumes called magazines, and he made it a point to bring up several each trip.

Odella had peeked into the ones that Pueblo was fond of, and was not surprised to find out that they consisted largely of gunfights, swordfights and ridiculously breathless romance, sometimes all on the same page.

In the back, the girls had finished decorating the crates and were now adding decorations to their clothes. The colors would wash out and wear off before too long, but they viewed that as an advantage; all they had to do was wait a few weeks and they could start all over again.

"You doing ok, dear? Do you need anything?"

"New... water... would... be... nice..."

Odella rummaged around in hir satchel for another waterskin. Due to the unfortunate physics of hir travelling clothes, shi could see very little below the landscape of hir buttressed bosom. "Ah, there we go. Do you want to pull over for a bit?"

"Just... pass... almost... there..." Kenyon's tongue was lolling out, flapping as he jogged, but his pace never flagged. He reached one heavy arm back and Odella obligingly dropped the skin into it. He pulled out the cork and downed the entire skin in one breath, tossing the emptied container back into the buggy. "Thanks!"

"Just think about cold beer at Bayside, hon. You're doing amazing, as always."

"Pleh. Beer."

"I'll have his!" Pueblo said brightly.

"You most certainly will not."

"Awww, why not? He says it doesn't do anything!"

Odella bopped hir oldest on the head. "It doesn't do anything to HIM because he's the size of a barn. He'd have to drink all the beer in Bayside."

"I... heard... that..."

"Well, you don't drink it either, and you're tiny!" the half-fox said astutely. "Most of you, at least."

"That's a personal choice. I don't like alcohol." Technically true.

"All the more reason for me to try it, and see if I do!"

"When you're older."

"How old?"

"Fifty."

"Awww..."

As the fox-drawn carriage trundled on, refreshed and rehydrated, the land around them slowly began to grow more civilized. Near the Foothills, dull ruddy scrub and dust seemed to stretch off in all directions, but after a few miles the occasional large, low house began to speckle the horizon. Small gardens gave way to larger crops and soon the road was lined on both sides with carefully-tended tomato patches and corn fields.

Despite Kenyon's impressive speed, word still spread faster than wagon, and it wasn't long before men and women of all ages and sizes, but of similar utilitarian clothing, lined the roads as well, smiling and waving and occasionally offering fresh produce. Odella tried to keep hir face placid and hir eyes on hir husband's broad back, but a small part of hir was rather immodestly enjoying itself immensely. A few of the younger locals were even clapping.

The three kits sat up straight, waving back happily. "Momma, do they do this for you EVERY time?" Zora asked.

Odella nodded. "Unfortunately. I keep telling them not to, but... well, it's something I can't seem to talk them out of. Just don't let it go to your head, ok? I don't go in for any of this celebrity nonsense."

"Do they do this for you everywhere?"

Shi hesitated. "Ah. Not quite."

"More people fear hir than love hir," Briar piped up from the back of the wagon. "And most people hate what they fear."

The coati arched an eyebrow. "That's... accurate, dear. Thank you."

"I was just trying to help!"

"I know, dear. I appreciate it. Color your boxes."

"Yes, Mom."

Behind them there was already a small crowd forming on the road, following them into town, and shi was sure that many more would be underway before long. Their trips to Bayside always became spectacles, more often than not ending with a night of revelry and carousing that continued long after the family had left for home. There were precious few reasons to celebrate these days, so the curandera couldn't fault them for that. Shi just wished they didn't make such a big deal out of it.

"Kenyon, I hope you're going to pay for those."

The huge fox had half a tomato in one hand and half a red pepper in the other, juices mingling on his chin. "But they're just... handing them out... for free! And I'm... hungry..."

"We've talked about this-" shi started, but just sighed in resignation. "Just try to remember who gives you stuff, all right? They can't afford to be just giving their crops away."

Pueblo opened his mouth, but a withering glare from Odella silenced him. "That's not the same," shi said, knowing where the conversation was going. "That's not the same at all."

The younger kits were standing in the back of the wagon now, waving madly at the loose throng trailing them. "It looks like we've got our own army!" Zora said as they trundled into town, more and more buildings appearing around them. "An army of farmers! Hey, you could call it Odella's Farmy!"

"You could be their Farmy Godmother!" Briar snorted gleefully.

The curvaceous coati rubbed hir brow, head hanging so low hir nose rubbed against the nearly-flat upper swells of hir bosom. "Do you two just spend these trips thinking up bad puns?"

"Not the entire trip."

"I'm so relieved."

Over the last twenty years, Bayside had grown from a loose collection of tumbledown buildings marking the termination of the east-west road where it met up with the north-south road to the largest settlement for hundreds of miles in any direction. Odella had struggled hard to maintain hir modesty, distancing hirself from any influence shi might have had, but shi knew all too well that Bayside might very well no longer exist had shi not intervened.

I wouldn't even have done that, shi told hirself, had it not been for Kenyon. He should be the hero, not me.

Already enough of a crowd had formed ahead of them, moving like a furry shockwave, that residents were trying to unhitch the colossal fox from the wagon, offering to pull it the rest of the way and insisting he take a break. Kenyon just nodded and smiled and shook everyone's hands, politely refusing to stop. Dozens more walked alongside, reaching out to grip the wooden buggy as though coming into mere contact with the curandera's transportation was a blessed honor.

"Your presence graces us!" cried a stooped, elderly crow.

"Mistress Curandera! What should I name my child?" asked a gravidly swollen bovine lady.

"Your lovely children have grown so much! I've many outfits for them!" called out a bespectacled rodent gentleman of indeterminate genus that Odella recognized as one of the town's clothiers.

"Mistress, begging you bring your lovely kits by my sweet shop!"

"Mistress, your beauty grows ever more blinding!"

Are you a bad liar! shi thought, in spite of hir spreading blush. Every time it's like this!

"MOM! SHE SAID THERE'S CANDY!"

"Yes, dear, I heard. After lunch."

"BUT CANDY!" Zora countered.

The they had reached the town proper now, two- and three-storey buildings standing straight and proud, scrubbed and whitewashed so thoroughly they fairly glowed in the noonday sun. How far they'd come, Odella thought, remembering hir first time in Bayside, so many years before. Well, hir second time, really... the first time had not gone particularly well.

Kenyon, indefatigable to the very last, pulled up to the polished stone statue that marked the town square and sat down in the dust with a thud. "Ok," he panted, mopping at his forehead with his sleeve. "We're here. Daddy's just gonna... gonna have a little nap now..." Even sitting, he was almost as tall as the average Bayside resident, and easily twice the breadth, but he no longer tried to stop the helping hands that worked to unharness him.

The plaza was chaos. Polite, well-intentioned chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Odella kept hir eyes down, trying not to look at the hundreds of onlookers that thronged the wide open space, trying to shut out the myriad conversations. It wasn't that shi couldn't make out any distinct people or speech from the din, quite the contrary. The problem was that shi could clearly make out everyone, shi could clearly hear every casual comment. It was a tidal wave of sensory information (John had once tried to describe what a tidal wave actually was, but his explanations had just been more confusing.)

The Sight was as much of a blessing as it was a curse, depending on the situation. Odella didn't have to look at a room for but a moment to see everything, know everything's location, even the things shi shouldn't have any right to notice. Shi could count the cutlery in a closed drawer, shi could count the bullets in a holstered pistol, shi could see the shadows moving under a door behind hir. It was pure hell for the kits and garden pests who could never put anything past hir, but a large enough crowd was like trying to see through a hundred pairs of eyes all at once. That would be bad enough, but shi was also prone to hearing in much the same way, something hir mentor had never mentioned and something shi'd never seen fit to bring up.

"Are you ok?" Briar asked, a tiny hand perched on Odella's shoulder.

"Yes, dear, I'm just..."

"It's too much, isn't it?"

The curandera turned to stare into hir youngest's eyes, huge with concern. Ever since shi had been born, Kenyon and Odella had feared the half-coati herm would inherit more than hir mother's gender; the curandera, the witches of the dead world, were nearly always herms, although there had never been any connection to bloodlines, for obvious reasons. Even so, Briar had always been a little different, a little peculiar, and perhaps most upsetting shi had always been so very, very empathetic.

"Do you also feel... overwhelmed?" Odella asked, searching Briar's face for any sign of duress.

Briar just shrugged. "Nah, they're always noisy. You just look like you have a headache. I worry about you"

Odella blinked, and laughed, bosom quaking. "You... worry about me," shi said softly, hugging the tiny kit. "That's enough, love. That's enough."

"MOM!!!" Zora interjected, stamping her foot for emphasis just in case the fact had been forgotten. "CANDY!!!"

"Kenyon, sweetie," Odella said, leaning over to address her exhausted husband. "Are you all right to walk just a little bit further?"

"I'm... I'm good," he said, swaying in the nonexistent breeze. "Wh-where?"

"You, mister, are going to go to the saloon, and get us a table, and you're going to sit down, and you're NOT GOING TO GO ANYWHERE ELSE until you've eaten," shi said sternly. "Is that understood?"

He saluted, misjudging the distance slightly and thumping his forehead hard enough to throw up a cloud of dust. "Yes, ma'am, sir," he grinned, helping Pueblo down from the wagon. "What about-"

"We'll deal with the bartering after," shi said briskly, gesturing to the back of the wagon and raising hir voice. "I'm sure our belongings will be perfectly safe out here, with all of the good people keeping an eye on it. Let's just get inside before we get trampled by all of the good people."

Both younger kits clambered nimbly down from the wagon, but Odella let hirself be carefuly lowered by hir abundantly helpful husband, knowing that there was almost no way for hir to either climb down or jump down that was the least bit decorous, given hir figure. In the old days shi would have been perfectly happy to simply jump and let hir bouncing assets move as they pleased, but shi worked hard to maintain a respectable image, and that involved not busting hir seams. Shi adjusted hir omnipresent weapons, enormous rifle strapped to hir back, revolvers low on hir hips, ammunition attached everywhere there was room.

"Mama, they got rid of the statue!"

"No, dear, it's still there," shi said absently, happy to have solid ground beneath hir paws again, heading for the saloon.

"No, Mama," Zora said patiently, tugging at Odella's wrist. "They got rid of the old statue."

The curandera froze, finally filtering through the cacophany of sights and sounds and realizing what should have been blindingly obvious to anyone riding into town. Turning slowly, the crowd backing hesitantly away, shi stared up where there had once been a polished stone statue of Bayside's founder, a heroic and heavily armed stallion by the name of Rango Djones. Now, though...

"It looks just like you!" Kenyon murmured into hir ear, wrapping his arms around hir waist as much to hug hir as to hold hir back. "You know, from a certain... artistic perspective."

It was undoubtedly Odella, standing proud, straight-backed, one hand balled up into a fist and seeming poised to strike, eyes staring joyously skyward. Rather than hir drum-tight leathers and corsets and bandoliers, though, statue-Odella was wearing a simple white dress bound at the hips with a short length of rope that only served to amplify hir already vastly ample swells. Hir tail rose up behind hir, stripes accented by what looked like a dusting of black soot.

"I can't see hir face," Briar pouted. "It's just boobs."

"BRIAR!"

Pueblo gripped his littlest sister around the waist and hoisted hir into the air. "Oh!" shi exclaimed. "There it is. Mommy, it's you!"

"Yes. Thank you." All around hir, shi counted five hundred and forty-three hopeful expressions flickering nervously. "I guess they got tired of the old statue. Kenyon, sweetie... do I really look like that?"

The huge fox thought about it. "I think they might have gotten a little carried away, in a few spots," he drawled, nuzzling hir ear. "No complaints here."

"Yeah, I didn't figure you would mind," shi grumped, patting his heavy paws. Shi cleared hir throat and addressed the crowd, which had fallen eerily silent save for the shuffling of feet and swishing of tails. "Thank you for this... honor," Odella said, trying to sound pleased, not wanting to offend. "It will... certainly turn a few heads."

The relief was palpable. A tall, well-built mule stepped forward, particularly notable for wearing a great deal of black that was unusually dust-free. "It's been up for a month," the sheriff's deputy said, puffing out his chest and the bronze badge pinned to it. "Many travellers have asked about it, and we've been more than happy to enlighten them."

Odella scratched hir chin. "I'd imagine your explanations would cause more trouble than it's worth, Deputy Cleophus" shi mused, knowing that the reputation of a curandera, particularly hir own reputation, varied wildly by location. "Particularly when I seem to be preparing to smite someone."

All eyes turned to behold the threatening pose, seemingly at odds with the rapturous smile.

"We... that is, the... the committee... and the artists, of course, felt that it... it rather well summed up the... that is to say, all sides of your... uhm... self." The deputy, towering over Odella by a clear foot, barrel-chested and heavily-armed, seemed to wither under the coati's arched eyebrow. "You are... and deserve to be... impressive?"

Shi scratched hir ear, patting at hir improbable bosom with hir other paw. "My legend will live on," shi said, "that's for sure. I like it."

The group exhalation kicked up a brief dust-storm, but the tension was broken. People smiled, clapped, shook eachother's hands, pressed forwards once again with produce and candies and gifts, but Odella simply spun around in Kenyon's arms, dragging him along like a huge foxy shawl and ushering hir kids towards the saloon.

The Gossamer Scarf seemed to grow more impressive with each passing year. Odella remembered taking Pueblo there when he was just a squalling baby, and it had been little more than half a dozen tables, half a dozen dancing girls and half a dozen rooms to rent. Now, it was perhaps the largest single building in Bayside, three gleaming storeys with ribbon-festooned towers, an enormous covered porch with small tables and wrought-iron stools and a ten-foot crayon-bright sign proclaiming it's name to the world.

And as he had been for every visit since then, Mr. Rico stood by the swinging saloon doors, wiping his perpetually-clean hands on his perpetually-clean apron, beaming with such pride he looked in danger of igniting. "Miss Curandera," the silver-hued fox proclaimed loud enough for the entire plaza to hear, "it's so good to see you again! And your wonderful children seem to have been replaced by these three young men and women! Please, enter! My establishment is at your disposal!"

The family pushed through the swinging doors and into the immaculate interior, all pink silk and white linens and dark oak. Odella knew that, six days a week, the linens were stashed in the storage closets and the windows were darkened to offer the dancing girls some privacy, but on Sun Day, every week without fail, the Gossamer Scarf was Bayside's family destination of choice. Even the liquor bottles were hidden behind pink curtains, the ursine bartender wondering what to serve besides water and lemonade.

Kenyon walked through last, heavy planks creaking under his boots. He stuck out his hand and shook Mr. Rico's, watching Odella guide the kits to a big table in the corner. "Hey, Uncle Rocky," Kenyon said in hushed tones, stepping into the interior of the Scarf, blocking the doorway and preventing any more followers. "How's business?"

"Doing good, Kenny, doing good," Mr Rico said in rare soft tones. "Still amazes me... every time you come to town, everytime you come back and... and bring hir..."

"I know what you mean."

"Do you?" The silvery fox looked very little like his beloved nephew, but then again Kenyon bore only superficial resemblance to anyone else in his family, to say nothing of foxkind in general. "Your Ma and Pa always wonder, and I have to say, I gotta wonder, too, if you know what we mean."

Kenyon, all eight strapping feet of him, hunched his shoulders and sulked as though being redressed by a schoolteacher. "I ain't slow, Uncle Rocky," he wheezed, still a little tired from the trek. "I know everyone thinks I, you know, I ain't all there upstairs, but... I ain't slow. I know what I got. I know who I got."

One enormous fist appeared out of nowhere and carefully, delicately, adjusted Mr. Rico's apron. "And I don't always appreciate the way shi gets talked about behind hir back like shi can't hear anything," he whispered. "Right?"

"Right, honey!" Odella called loudly from the far end of the dining room. "Now come sit down!"

Kenyon straightened, smiled down at his uncle, and thumped over to join his family.

A minute later, when the silver fox remembered to start breathing again, he made a mental note to knock another ten percent off of their bill, and to perhaps never talk ever again if he thought Odella might be in town.

"You know, if you really wanted to scare him, you could have just pulled a gun on him," the coati chuckled when Kenyon joined them.

"Ah, he just needed to be reminded of who you are."

Shi goggled while the kids giggled. "Reminded of who I am? Kenny, sweetie, just where exactly do you think we are? They have a statue, I think everyone here bloody well knows who I am!"

He just shook his head. "They know your legend. They know your myths and your stories and your, you know, all that stuff. They don't know you the way I do."

Hir tail twitched above hir head, watching the lunchtime crowd slowly trickling in through the swinging doors. "I don't deserve you," shi smiled.

Kenyon rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "And now YOU don't know you the way I do," he groaned, sagging in his seat. "It's exhausting."

"Don't worry, don't worry," shi winked, patting his leg. "I'll find a way to make it up to you later."

"GROSS!"

"Kids, what have I told you about eavesdropping?"

The Gossamer Scarf was soon seated to capacity, with a dozen faces peeking in the windows, but the explosive energy seemed to have gone out of the crowd. The menu was not very diverse, given the current growing season, so Odella just requested that they keep bringing out whatever was ready until Kenyon stopped eating. Shi thought the look of horror on the waiter's face was worth the price of admission.

Throughout the meal well-wishers and indebted citizens came by, single and in pairs, and always with slow shuffling feet, all for the honor of saying hello, of shaking Odella's paw and sometimes the paws of hir family. Quick updates were given on the conditions of babies that Odella had delivered, farms that shi had dowsed wells for, and of primary interest to the curandera the behavior and progress of hir students.

Perhaps unique among the curandera of the world, most of whom were consumed by the Truth and the Work, Odella sought out not just one gifted grrl to train, but as many as shi could find. Bayside currently boasted five grrls between the ages of twelve and thirty who could detect not just the Seen world, the world of rocks and trees and sky, but the Real world, the world of thoughts and spirits, of past and future. Most of them could sometimes call upon the Sight, most of them could dowse for the wells that had made Bayside such an influential little empire, and any one of them, even the youngest, could be called upon for nearly any medical emergency imaginable.

And most of them, Odella was slightly jealous to know, would never be called upon to perform the Work. They would grow up, they would grow old, they would have their families and their lives and their legacy, and sleep the peaceful sleep that shi had perhaps never known.

It was a small hope, but shi clung to the possibility that those girls would be hir legacy.

"Myer mnot meamting," Kenyon mumbled, cheeks striped with butter as he downed his fourth or fifth cob of roasted corn. "Myer mokay?"

Odella nibbled on a piece of cheese and periodically popped a grape into hir slender muzzle. "I'm fine. I don't eat much, you know that."

"Mmomm, mit's FMREE!" Zora proclaimed, a sizzling kebab of peppers in one hand and an apple in the other, the latter to soothe the burning of the former.

"Of course it isn't! I pay every single time!"

"Bmut thm... er, hold on... but they always say it's free! They say it's on top of the house!"

"On the house," shi corrected, "and they say that every time, yes, but I still pay. That's fair. I can't rob them of good food and hard work just because I'm a little famous."

"But you and the grrls dowse the wells," Briar piped up. "You're the reason they have all this food in the first place!"

"That's different," Odella said primly. "I merely help them provide for themselves. They do all the work."

"And you do all that for free?'

"Not precisely. In exchange for my help, they donate one third of all their food to Bayside, to provide for everyone. That's why they have doctors and librarians and clothiers and candy shops and, yes, they have their own police. If everyone spent all their time growing food, there'd be no-one left to make life worth living." It was a speech shi had given many times before, often to people bartering for hir services.

"So if they donate all that food, don't you think you deserve a little, to make life worth living?"

Odella stared down at hir youngest, clutching that red-headed ragdoll in one hand and a slice of... of... well, shi wasn't sure what it was, but it was green and slimy and that was enough for Briar. "Just eat your thing," the curandera said, changing the subject. "We need to go shop-"

All sound died, save for the final hollow plops and thunks of hir sundered chair falling to the floor, splintered wood scattered around hir like a shockwave. One hand gripped a pearl-handled revolver, the other was flung high into the air, protectively shielding hir kits against... what?

All eyes were locked on hir, mouths hanging open mid-chew. Shi sniffed the air, eyes scanning the balconies above the dining room, shifting from door to door.

"What is it?" Kenyon said through still lips. Zora and Briar inched closer to Pueblo, the older boy wrapping his arms around them.

The coati's tail, even more ramrod straight than usual, shook itself, fluffed up and drooped. Shi looked down at the exploded remnants of hir chair and blushed, raking hir paws through hir hair. "Uhm... I'm... I'm sorry, everyone! Just a little skittish. I thought I saw... something. I'm sorry. Please, go about your meals. Uhm. Mr. Rico, could I have another chair?"

A dozen people offered theirs when it was discovered that currently every available seat was quite literally taken, but Odella just waved them away. "Ken, kids, I'm just going to go sit outside for a little bit, all right? I need some fresh air."

Slowly, nervously, the family started to eat again. "Are you sure it's ok?"

"It's ok, it really is. It's just that, when I've got all of you away from the Hills, away from the homestead, I get a little over-protective. I think it was a broom falling over, to be honest. I'm going to go check on the wagon. Eat, please." Hir eyes twinkled. "We've got to get all of you some nice proper clothes for our next portrait."

Both girls preened at the thought of new dresses, but Pueblo and Kenyon just groaned.

"There, we're in agreement. Ken, love, please pay Mr. Rico double whatever you think the chair was worth."

Shi holstered the pistol that shi had genuinely forgotten shi was holding, apologized to the crowd again, and moved swiftly and silently to the swinging doors, vanishing into the noon-day haze beyond.

All three kits inched their chairs a little closer to their father's. "Do you really think it was nothing?"

"Honestly, I think it was probably a lizard or a spider or something," he said, "and right now it's counting itself lucky that it isn't spread across half of town. Eat your kebab, or I'm going to eat it."

"Never! It's mine!"

Some of the assembled locals scattered as shi emerged, having seen hir reaction to whatever it was in the Scarf. "Good day," shi said pleasantly, leaning back against the shaded planks. "How's everyone doing?"

"Lovely!" someone squeaked, clapping her hand over her mouth.

Shi arched an eyebrow. "I frighten you." It was not a query.

An ant could have filled the silence. "No?" someone eventually replied after a lengthy, conspicuous pause.

Shi inhaled deeply, leathers creaking and drawing more than a few stunned glances. The gifted coati knew shi was possessed of significantly more flesh than anyone... any ten of the regular lads and lasses of Bayside, but they were remarkably good at not mentioning it. A sidelong peek at the statue reminded hir that they were definitely aware of it, though.

A slender waif of a rabbit approached, gingerly reaching out to take Odella's paw. "We know you, Mistress. We respect you for what you have done, and we fear you for what you can do, but mostly... we love you, Mistress, and we don't know how to say it."

Odella locked eyes with the waif, who might have been trembling through and through, but her gaze was steady. "Well said, young... I don't believe we've met."

"Fabine, Mistress. I travelled here a month ago, to seek you out, and I was... ah hah, elected to make that little speech on behalf of the townsfolk. I improvised a little bit."

Odella straightened swiftly, several inches shorter than Fabine but far larger in every other dimension. Fabine's eyes widened slightly but she did not flinch; the coati held the lapine's paw firmly, and detected not a tremor.

"Have you met with the Circle?"

"Yes, Mistress, and they have been very gracious, but insisted that I await your... approval."

The Circle, as they had taken to calling themselves, were the girls and grrls that Odella had been training. They were not appointed to any position or office within the town and had no real leadership or advisory capacity, and yet they seemed to have final say over nearly anything that happened. They were the de facto approval process for Bayside, and by default Odella was their leader, making hir... well, shi didn't know what it made hir, and shi didn't care.

"There's one way to get my approval, Fabine," Odella said briskly, brushing nonexistent dust off of hir paws. "Come with me."

Parting like wheat in a high wind, the townsfolk pulled back and tried to act as though they were thoroughly and unavoidably busy while making sure to keep one eye and ear on the curandera and hir charge. Odella paused briefly at the buggy, which had acquired a patchwork of handprints but was otherwise unharmed, and walked around to the back. "Hop up, if you please," shi said over hir shoulder.

Fabine obliged, leaping effortlessly up to the bench. Her expression was curious, but she remained silent.

The coati reached up and into the back of the wagon, or as much as hir prodigious bust would allow, and tapped the two heavy latched crates. "Open these up."

Moving with exaggerated care, brows knit with concentration, Fabine crept up behind the crates, knelt and lifted their lids as though shi expected their contents to explode. When the crates proved to contain only a few loosely-tied sacks, she looked askance at Odella. "What is it?"

"Barter goods," shi said innocently. "What did you think I would have you do? Well, go on, don't just stand there like one o'clock half struck. We've got a lot of items to get through. Here, untie the first sack and just start pulling things out, would you? Hold them up high, so the people can see, there's a good girl."

By the time Kenyon and the kits emerged from the Scarf, the enormous fox having spent several minutes quite literally forcing coins into his uncle's protesting paws, Odella and Fabine had cleaned out the first crate and were well into hawking items from the second. Presently shi was trying to find trades for a half-dozen steel pots and pans, although the haggling process was a little unusual.

"Five bolts of raw wool," the clothier was offering.

Odella was beyond the point of consternation, but shi knew shi had to tread carefully. "Five is far too much, and you're not so dumb as to not know that. Two."

"Four bolts and some dye pellets!"

"You can't keep your shop open if you give four bolts of raw wool away just so you can cook stew. Two bolts, and maybe some red pellets for the kits."

"Three?"

"Two, you stupid man!"

Hanging his head in shame in spite of the trade that would have been an incredible deal anywhere else, the clothier took the pots and scurried away. Kenyon chuckled, having been in hir position many times but generally soft-hearted enough to have settled for the three bolts. "Go on and grab the empty crates," he rumbled to the kits. "Your mother's enjoying hirself far too much. We should stock up before shi sells the wagon."

"I heard that!" Odella called. Fabine was struggling under the weight of a solid metal cylinder, as well as Odella's expectations. "Higher, dearie, higher. Who taught you how to sell? All right, who needs a sledgehammer? The handle's all rotted away, but you can fix that up, no problem. Oh, just put it down before you drop it on your foot."

In short order Kenyon's barter goods were gone and Odella had an enormous list of trades to pick up. Shi shook hir head in wonderment, walking over to hir family and slipping an arm around hir husband's waist. "Every trip, it's like they don't know what anything is worth! One woman wanted to give us fifty pounds of onions for a book. A book! ONE book!"

"It's a sign of respect-" Kenyon started, cut off by a swat to the rump.

"It's stupid, that's what it is. I talked her down to ten pounds, and she was almost crying when I threw in a second book. Honestly, I should just stay home next time." Shi wiped hir forehead with hir sleeve, unbuttoning the top of hir drum-tight coats and fanning the loose cotton underneath. "Warm day today. Are you all done shopping?"

"Done? No, we were wait-"

"Why is everyone standing around in the roasting sun then? Did you eat so much it forced your common sense out of your ears? Come on! Up with the crates, we've got a lot to do today. Girls, you're with me, we've got some appointments. Pueblo, keep your father from buying any more beans."

"But I like beans-"

"That's the problem, dear," shi grinned, standing on hir tip-toes and planting a kiss on his shoulder. "I don't want to make you sleep on the couch, but I'll do it."

"Awww."

---

The tiny brass bell, one of Kenyon's subterranean finds from years ago, jingled when the trio entered the dressmaker's shop. Odella looked around, a faint blush rising in hir cheeks as shi beheld the dozen gorgeous outfits on display, wooden mannequins filling them out nicely but also reminding hir that shi would never be able to shop off-the-rack.

"PINK!"

"GREEN!"

"PINK!"

"GREEN!"

Odella squeezed hir daughter's shoulders. "You don't need to fight," shi reminded them. "We can compromise: pink and green checkered dresses."

"EWWW!" both girls squealed.

Odella looked thoughtful. "Pink and green stripes?"

The argument had devolved into the merits of pink-and-green tie-dye by the time the seamstress had screwed up her bravery and emerged from the back rooms. She owed her livelihood to the curandera, as there had never been need for anything fancier than a little bit of lace trim on a brown wool dress until the recent time of peace and prosperity. "Mistress Odella!" she said with feigned surprise. "How lovely to see you and your beautiful daughters!"

Odella smiled back, leaning in to awkwardly hug the plump badgerlady. "Maria," shi said warmly. "It's been too long."

Briar and Zora hugged Maria from the sides. "Look how tall I've gotten!" Zora said proudly, standing up so straight and straining so hard that everyone could hear her joints pop.

"Nyuh, look at me!" Briar said, slightly louder than necessary. "I grew more!"

"No, you only grew, like, two inches!"

"That's a larger proportion of my previous height than you grew!"

Zora blinked. "Uhm. Ok?"

Maria laughed. "You've both grown so much, but don't worry, I've got plenty in both your sizes. Mistress, please, look around. It would honor me to let something out for you. Anything you like."

The coati put hir hands on hir hips and leaned back slightly, as though hir bulges were not filling everyone's view. "I don't think you've got enough time or fabric, Maria."

Maria just waved a paw dismissively. "Nonsense. Fastest hands in the West. At least that's what my husband says," she chortled.

"We'll see, dear, we'll see," Odella murmured, admiring the dresses again. "Right now I'm more concerned for the two weeds attached to your legs. At the rate they're outgrowing things, I'm going to need to learn to sew just to keep on top of it."

"Don't let hir do it!" Zora begged. "Shi makes the sleeves different lengths!"

Maria's eyes sparkled. "This sounds serious, indeed. Maybe we'd better get you fit for some larger dresses as well, just to prevent any mishaps, hmm? Come this way. Pink and green stripes, right?"

"EWW!"

Pueblo and Kenyon, meanwhile, were dragging the buggy all around Bayside and stocking up all of the agreed-upon trades and any other purchases required. The huge fox's eyes were gauging the seemingly endless sacks of dried goods and gardening supplies, his haunches already throbbing from the trip down. He knew he could haul it back before nightfall, but it was getting harder these days.

"What's next?" he said, tossing the bolts of fabric on top of the growing mound of goods.

Pueblo scanned down the list. "Roof shingles?"

"Nah. I pulled up a huge load of flat metal from the Hole last week, I can patch the roof with that. Next."

"Uhm. Silk."

Kenyon cocked his head. "Silk? Shi wrote down silk?"

The half-fox held up the list. "Yeah, silk, and it has like a... winky-face next to it."

Turning his head to hide his own blush, Kenyon busied himself rearranging items in the back of the buggy to lay flat. "Uhm, I'll let your mother get that. It's for... clothes."

"Gotcha. Ok, next up is sugar then! Awesome!"

"How much?"

"All of it, I think. Shi used ten exclamation marks."

"Oh, dear." Odella's infatuation with coffee was, after a while, understandable and even sort of cute. Hir borderline obsession with sugar was starting to worry the other four members of the household, particularly when the coati would lecture them on their consumption when hir own was far, far more exorbitant. "Shi doesn't have many vices, son, and this one is probably cheaper than the others. And safer."

"Safer?"

"Just get on back to the General Store and warn them I'm coming for all their sugar. I'll catch up in a minute." He slipped a burly arm through the harness and started to drag the wagon in a wide circle. A few of the bystanders rushed to his aid, but he shooed them away with a good-natured grin. "No, no, I've got it, don't you worry," he said softly, but he was more than a little pleased that a few of them didn't listen.

When the family met up once again at the centre of town, below the curandera's honorific statue, the buggy's axles were groaning in protest, and Kenyon's shoulders were starting to twinge with soreness yet to come. He wasn't too worried; he knew that he was more than strong enough, despite the signs of age that were slowly accumulating, and he would be as good as new after a couple restful days.

The hefty fox glanced sidelong at his wife as shi passed up several carefully-wrapped parcels to the girls in the back of the wagon, and couldn't stop his tail from wagging. As added incentive, he knew that Odella was exceedingly... concerned and affectionate when he was tired and sore, and seemed to delight in massaging all of the kinks and bruises out of his body. Sometimes shi even used hir hands.

"Successful shopping?" he asked nonchalantly, trying to count how many individually-wrapped packages were making their way into the buggy. "The girls are all set for dresses?"

"Mmm hmmm," Odella nodded. "Got a few larger sizes, since YOUR children keep growing."

"Yes," he said, looming over hir and grinning. "I'm the reason they're so big."

"Well, height-wise," shi replied, elbowing him in the stomach and nearly bouncing off. "I picked up some trousers for the both of you, too, since you seem dead-set on destroying every pair you've got."

"They're work trousers," Pueblo declared. "They're SUPPOSED to get trashed! If me and Dad came out of the hole every day sparkling clean, that would defeat the purpose!"

"You could stand to maybe not snag yourself on every single piece of metal and glass while you're down there..."

The two males exchanged looks. "What does shi mean?" the half-fox asked.

"I've no idea," Kenyon replied with a wink. "Shi's not making any sense."

"That's it. Kale soup for a week for you two."

"Awww!"

The sun was well past it's zenith now, but still high in the sky. Odella leaned against the wagon and fanned hirself with hir wide-brimmed hat, listening to the kits argue over who had been more instrumental in the day's purchases. Kenyon relaxed next to hir, easing his bulk against the side of the buggy and shifting it several inches.

"You feeling ok?" he murmured, patting hir hip reassuringly.

Shi nodded. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

"You've just seemed a little off today. Twitchy, considering you only had four coffees. That, and Rico is still picking bits of your chair out of the chandelier."

Odella sighed, grimacing. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"Spider?"

"Spider." Shi slipped hir paw into his and squeezed. "Definitely a spider."

They inched closer together, the diminutive coati resting hir head against his elbow. "I don't know, there was... I swear there was something here. Something that shouldn't have been." Shi didn't talk about the Work, more than shi felt was absolutely strictly necessary. The kits thought that hir life was a grand adventure, but Kenyon worried enough as it was.

"Is it still here?"

Curse your empathy, shi thought with loving remorse. By all accounts, shi was one of the world's premiere liars, but Kenyon had always been able to see through hir. Shi licked hir lips and nodded. "I can taste it. Whatever it is. I don't know if it's something that is here, or something that was here, or maybe something that will be here. The Work isn't really helping right now, so I suppose it's none of my business."

"Has that ever stopped you?"

"Not once, love. Not once."

---

Many miles away, several days travel by any conventional means, a robed figure stood atop a high, sheer cliff, the sun beating down on hir back. Shi was remarkably similar in figure to Odella, though built on a substantially less impressive scale. Small, dark eyes glittered in the shade of hir deep cowl as shi sought with unseen gifts the distant town of Bayside.

"I still don't see how shi won't realize it's me," shi said aloud.

A faint breeze ruffled around hir, rippling hir cloak and sending a puff of dust over the edge of the cliff. Hir eyes hardened, and shi nodded. "Yes, that is true. It never was hir strong suit, but shi may surprise you."

Hir robe fluttered, a gust blowing up hir skirts. Shi bared hir fangs and hissed, but softly. "Remember yourself. And remember our deal. I've no love for the wild child, but no harm will befall the kits. Yes?"

Hir only answer was the buzz of a fly, and hir own sigh of consternation.

---

After a few hours of being in Bayside, some of the manic obsession had faded from the populace. People were now walking past with little more than a smile and a wave, although on the fringes of hir vision shi could make out several gazes trained upon hir. Wherever shi went, shi knew shi drew attention, for one reason or another. Women came to hir for advice, men generally avoided hir, and children followed hir around like a parade.

"I wonder if they had that in mind when they put up your statue."

"Hmm?"

Kenyon gestured to where the huge white effigy stood proud and defiant, seemingly staring directly at the sun. Due to the rather unfortunate angle of it's placement, though, the falling shadows created by hir exceedingly prominent bust highlighted hir maleness with an almost indecent level of detail. The white dress might as well have ended at hir midriff.

"Oh, spirits," shi breathed, covering hir eyes with hir palm. "I'm really going to need to have words with the Mayor. That's... that's not good for the kits in town."

"I don't know, it might improve Briar's chances of landing a husb-"

Hir head spun so fast hir hat remained fixed in space, polished brass buckle now positioned over hir right ear. "There-" shi started, free hand moving smoothly to hir gunbelt. One of the second-storey windows above the teahouse was pushed open, white lacy curtains waving in the faint breeze. Shi had seen motion, shi knew shi had seen a black hand... shi knew it...

Kenyon gasped, and shi looked up into his straining face. "You saw it too?"

Teeth clenched, he shook his head and tugged at hir hand. Shi glanced down and saw his paw crushed quite unnaturally in hir delicate fingers. Shi squeaked in horror, letting him go and pulling hir hand back as though burnt. "Oh, Ken! Are you ok? Let me see...!"

Kenyon shook his hand back and forth, flexing and releasing with a series of tiny pops. "No, no, it's not broken, I'll... I'll be ok..."

"I'm so sorry!" shi hissed, still resting hir free paw on hir gunbelt. "I... I saw... oh, just let me look at your hand."

He held it out gingerly, and the coati took it with exaggerated care, manipulating it with practiced skill. Over the edge of the wagon, three sets of wide eyes stared down at them. "Mommy hurt him again," Zora whispered.

"It was an accident," Kenyon reassured them. "Mommy's very strong, and sometimes forgets I'm there."

Odella's eye twitched, but shi held hir tongue. I wasn't feeling bad enough already! "Nothing broken," shi murmured, feeling the red throbs of pinched nerves and the bright purple streaks of strained tendons. "We'll get you some ice at the Scarf. Come on, I need to go pay Rico for the chair anyways."

"I already paid him, hon, and I don't need ice-"

"Don't make me drag you, sweetie," shi said, trying to put on a genuine smile. "Come on, kits. Who needs a bite to eat before we hit the road?"

"Me!"

"Me!"

"Cookies!"

The three coati-fox hybrids hit the ground running, kicking up little puffs of dust as they sprinted past Odella and Kenyon. He wanted to ask what shi had seen, but he knew it was futile. Even if shi did know, and for once it seemed as though that wasn't the case, shi was too unnerved to let on. "I was kind of hoping they'd nap on the ride back," the huge fox chuckled, still trying to work the kinks out of his paw. "You sure they need more treats?"

How do I want them to remember this day? shi thought to hirself. Napping in the back of a wagon, or cookies with their mother? "It's a special day, love. Let them live it up. Oh, stop shaking your hand, you're making me feel worse."

"Yes, dear."

"And don't say it like that! You make it sound like I beat you."

"Yes, dear."

Shi swatted his rump when he stepped onto the Gossamer Scarf's wide front patio. "You, mister, are going to pay for that little comment."

His eyes grew wide and sad, even as his tail wagged excitedly. "Yes, dear."

Shi couldn't keep the little smirk off of hir muzzle, feeling hir tight leathers creaking in protest. Iron self control earned through decades of dedicated practice was the only reason hir engorging swells had not ruined yet another outfit. "And you thought you were going to be sore because of the wagon ride..." shi growled, arching hir eyebrows suggestively. His tail wagged faster, swishing back and forth like an angry feather duster.

Inside, Rico was already bring out a tray full of tiny plates, each one holding a small, brightly colored pastry. "Welcome back, Miss Curandera!" he called grandly. "Your lovely offspring have asked to see our dessert selection before your journey, naturally on the house, of course!"

"Oh, they did, did they?"

"It was his idea!" Zora pointed at Pueblo.

"It was her idea!" he cried, pointing back at her.

"Cookies!" Briar declared, ever focused on what really mattered in life.

Odella kept hir eyes on the kits, walking slowly and surely through the half-full saloon. There were smiles and greetings from all sides, which shi returned politely, but hir attention was focused on the balconies above. All of the numbered doors were firmly closed, and shi could See they were locked. From the dusty patina, it was evident they hadn't been opened for a least a couple days. One of them had been open, shi thought, the unfamiliar sensation of doubt crawling unpleasantly in hir mind.

"You can have one each," Kenyon said, keeping his injured paw against his side. "Only one, and Rico, it's not on the house."

"But of course it is! Let me do this one thing for you," he said reasonably, placing the tray in the middle of the table.

"One thing? You've already done so much for us today, and we both know you undercharged us for the lemons. Those must have cost a shiny coin. I said one each." Working as one, each kit had grabbed a tiny plate with each hand. "'Della, dear, back me up on this."

Odella could see the myriad tiny shards of hir former chair still scattered underneath the linen-covered tables and in dusty, shadowy corners. Most of the mess had certainly been tidied up, but each splinter was a painful reminder. "Listen to your father. Two each," shi said absently.

"Dear!"

"YAY!"

Rico just grinned but he was also nervously eyeing his establishment, wondering what the respected but feared curandera was seeing. "Anything I can get for you? Anything at all," he beamed, looking between his nephew and his wife.

"He needs ice," Odella said softly, moving to stand behind Briar. All around them, the late lunch patrons continued to eat, but far more subdued, utensils moving with excessive care.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," Kenyon said, flexing his fingers slowly.

"No you're not."

Rico looked back and forth between them, gracious veneer hardly cracking. "Ice is, of course, free..."

Odella was aware of the older kits starting on their third pastries, while Briar was staring directly at hir. "Shut up and take my money," Kenyon said, reaching into his pocket with his good paw and pulling out some of the crumpled local currency.

A presence flitted just on the edge of the Real, above and beyond and behind the mere physical structure around them. Shi kept hir body still, but hir senses soared free, hunting and tracking something that shi could not identify, something that was always one step ahead of hir. There was no reason to presume it was malicious, and even less likely was the possibility it might attempt anything, not with Odella there. Even the most oblivious of spirits had learned to be on their best behaviour around Bayside...

So focused was shi on the Real world that shi was the last person to hear the distant screaming.

Shi blinked away the Real world, returning to that which was merely Seen, to find find everyone staring at hir. All three kits, eyes wide and alarmed, were huddled against hir for safety, but Kenyon was already moving to pry them loose.

Both heavy-handled revolvers appeared in hir tiny paws, looking almost comically oversized. "Pueblo, Zora, Briar," shi said with unnerving calm. "Go with your father. Kenyon, get somewhere safe and brightly lit."

A struggling Pueblo tucked under one mighty arm and a limp Zora clutched around hir torso, the huge fox nudged Briar with a steel-shod boot. "I'm out of hands, Bee, let's go."

The smallest half-coati squeezed hir mother once more, thin arms not even making it halfway around hir front-heavy hips, and sniffled. "Don't worry about us, Mom," shi said, walking backwards. The Gossamer Scarf was emptying out with record speed, but even in their panic no-one dared bump into Odella or any of hir clan.

I wasn't worried until you said that! "Brightly lit!" shi snapped again, sidling towards the street. Hir family watched hir go, moving carefully but unhesitatingly through the squeaking swinging doors. Deputy Cleophus had been charging up the short steps, eyes wide and gun drawn, and only narrowly managed to pirouette to the side before he bowled into the curandera.

"Mistress! Is everything-"

"Family. In there. Storage room. Keep them safe."

"What about-"

Shi locked eyes with him, boring into his skull. He was a good man, a former tough and highly-successful brigand who had been quite good at never stealing everything a traveller possessed, and never hurting anyone he didn't need to. When he'd been offered the job his first response had been incredulous laughter, but seeing Odella was serious, he somberly accepted.

Kenyon nodded to the mule when the deputy stepped into the saloon, blocking the entrance, and turned to Rico. "Do you-"

"Dry storage room! This way!"

Outside, the thriving, bustling town had grown still as a tomb. All around hir shi could see every cracked door and every half-pulled window shielding countless pairs of frightened eyes. The air hung motionless, oppressively hot and dry. One old-fashioned revolver was held high, the other hanging easy at hir hip. Hir ears quivered, straining to pick up the slightest breath or tremor.

Powdery gravel crunching beneath hir small paws, shi stalked through the streets, hunting... what? What am I hunting? What's here that I can taste and smell but not see or hear? Truth help me!

Shi reached the intersection to the south, swaying slowly side to side, overlapping stimulus of the Seen world and the Real world muddling hir brain. Shi tilted hir head forwards, shielding hir eyes from the blazing sun. Where did you go? Where was the scream? Why-

Glass shattered to hir right, towards the Rim Road. There had been virtually no traffic coming from the north in recent seasons, and what traffic came from the south tended to be either travelling merchants or settlers who decided to call Bayside their home. Most of the businesses had moved over to the town square and the Old Road, leaving the Rim Road largely populated by homes. Families. Children.

Shi dashed off, forcing hirself to rely on defensive measures, not to charge in guns blazing and scaring the townsfolk half to death. The way I normally do, shi grimaced to hirself.

---

Circuitous currents of air, set spinning and self-sustaining by an intellect cold and uncaring and infinitely patient, reinforced each other. Sunlight added energy to one, keeping the chain running with minimal upkeep. Sometimes he wished he'd just have been able to show someone his greatest miracle, to brag about it a tiny bit, but it seemed that it was destined to go down in history as an unsolved mystery.

With an unheard sigh, he intervened with no more force than a butterfly flapping it's wings, diverting one of the updrafts away.

One by one, the currents parted, drifted, separated, unravelling like a tapestry. The thunderheads built up, piled on top of one another, dwarfing the mountains that gave them their unnatural impetus.

Screaming like banshees, the chain was broken and the maelstrom rolled forth.

---

Kenyon, meanwhile, was ushering all three kits into a small, heavy-walled room beneath the Scarf's grand staircase. Metal shelves, most of them supplied by Kenyon and his salvage claim, sagged under the weight of crates and sacks of dried food. "You'll be safe in here," Rico said, putting a large oil lantern on a metal trolley by the door, and lighting another. "Shi said to keep it bright, so... this is the best I can do."

Tall shadows flickered near the ceiling, but both lanterns threw off considerable illumination. "It's good, Rico," the big fox said, moving automatically to stand between the door and the three startled kits. Pueblo, however, more used to his mother's adventures than his sisters, was still chewing on a cookie, breaking off tiny pieces and sharing them around. "I'm sure it's... well, if not nothing, at least nothing to concern us."

Rico laughed. "I notice shi didn't tell me to take cover," he chuckled, winking at the youngsters. "Don't you worry, wee'uns. There's nothing in this universe that would knowingly anger your mother."

"I dunno, Dad pisses hir off sometimes-"

"Zora!"

"Well, you do!"

"How?"

Zora put her hands on her hips in an unnervingly accurate rendition of her mother. "Your father, sometimes I just don't know," she said, dropping her voice remarkably low. "He drags Pueblo down the Hole when I'm not there, and who's looking out for you two? Oh, I know you're old enough, but Briar shouldn't be left with just you! And he never cooks anything but chili, and he ruins ALL of his clothes!"

Kenyon's neck bulged from the effort of clamping his jaw shut, but he couldn't hold back. He exploded with laughter, leaning against the wall and barking with such gusto he nearly extinguished one of the lamps. "Don't EVER let your mother hear your impression!" he howled, shaking his head. "Shi might not see it with the same... rose color that I do."

Rico shook his head and closed the door. "It's got a simple bolt on the inside," he called. "Just in case, ya know? It wasn't always so safe 'round these parts."

Pueblo shut the bolt just before Kenyon pulled him away from the door. "Here, just sit with me," he said, resting his bulk on a barrel and pulling all three kits onto his lap. "We're just going to hang tight here for a few minutes, all right? Herem Pueblo, share some of that cookie."

"Mmmwhuft cmookfie?"

Odella kicked at the shards of glass sparkling in the street. Ten feet above hir, the window seemed to have exploded outwards, gauzy curtains hanging in tatters. Shi licked hir lips, tasting... nothing. Whatever had been here was already gone.

Shi stomped on the part of hir that actually wished there had been blood on the glass. That would have been something more tangible than this will-o'-the-wisp bullshit, the excitable coati grumbled to hirself. This was-

There.

Shi didn't need to turn. Shi could sense everything around hir, couldn't help BUT sense everything around hir. Sometimes hir abilities warred with hir more primal instincts, but now shi was keeping a firm grip on them, or at least trying to; hir trigger fingers still itched. Farther to the south, a shadowy shape tugged at another nearly-identical set of curtains, and vanished.

There!

And again, on the other side of the street.

There?

Further in the distance, nearly on the edge of what hir Sight could easily filter from the world around hir, two murky figured watched from the upper clerestory of the old church, built to worship nothing in particular but more to hedge the superstitious bets that SOMETHING needed to be worshipped.

Testament to how far shi had come in hir life, Odella had taken only a dozen steps before shi slowed, and dared to ask hirself, "What's going on?"

---

Briar, normally so self-possessed in spite of hir age, clung tightly to Kenyon's leg. "It's ok," he smiled, patting hir pointy ears. "Shi hasn't shot anything, so it's probably all right."

"Yeah!" Zora said, clambering onto a crate and striking a dramatic pose, oddly reminiscient of the statue in the square. "That's how shi solves problems! BLAMMO!"

Pueblo pointed his fingers at his sister and dove behind a sack of rice. "Pew! Bang! You missed!"

The massive fox grinned, knowing that the truth was somewhere in between, but not wanting to spoil their fun. Their mind was on more pleasant matters, and that was far more important. Briar shivered, though, and for once didn't join in on the fun. Hir tail, ramrod straight in true coati fashion, quivered like a featherbush in a high wind. "Briar? Honey?"

Hir lips moved, but no sound came out. That was also nothing new, unfortunately; the youngest member of the clan was often seen to be talking to hirself, and when questioned on it would simply reply that shi was just talking to someone. After a moment, though, shi lifted hir muzzle and rested it on hir father's knee, staring up into his eyes. "I want Mommy."

Kenyon blinked. "I know, hon, and shi'll be back here in a mom-"

The sound of the large oil lantern going out was a subtle as a snake drawing breath, but it halted all activity within the tiny room. A curl of greasy smoke rose from the extinguished wick, which was more than an arm's length away from either Kenyon or the kits. Slowly their eyes moved from the darkened fixture to the smaller one that was still lit, hanging on a hook by the door.

All around it, the darkness seemed to be creeping closer. Shadows slithered like paint, building up thicker and thicker around it until the lantern hung in a circle of brilliant white surrounded by an inky puddle that by all rights should not have existed.

Kenyon was standing in a flash, pulling Briar from his leg and clutching hir tight to his chest. The older two clung to his sides, the bulky fox hunched over protectively. "Rico!" he bellowed. "Light!"

The shadows strained and pulsed, drawing ever closer to the lantern, and it seemed for a minute that the light was powerful enough to repel the strange, alien darkness. All around them, the shadows seemed normal enough, though Kenyon's eyes were moving frantically, expecting every little puddle of shade to leap out at him. "Get up higher, kits, get up higher," he hissed under his breath, Pueblo and Zora obliging.

Slowly, putting the experienced salvager in mind of tar pitch leaking out of a punctured barrel, a shadowy pseudopod extruded from the impossible ring on the wall, forcing itself through to the hook against tremendous resistance. The pure little flame within the glass flue twitched and flickered, reminding Kenyon of Briar a moment before... and then went out.

Zora squeaked somewhere near his ear, and Pueblo seemed to be trying to climb inside the big fox's overalls. Briar burrowed against his chest. "Don't worry, it's just the dark," he said, a speech he had made countless times to the kits as they had each passed through that fearful stage of childhood. "This is nothing. Down... down in the Hole, there's darkness that has weight, that seems to press directly on your eyes and ears. This is nothing. Right, Pueb?"

"Yff," he agreed reflexively, too terrified to move his mouth. "Drrkff."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. Now hold on tight, I'm... I'm heading for the door..." It was a strain to keep his own voice steady. It was true that no darkness he'd ever encountered above ground, even in the depths of their root cellar during a thunderstorm, had ever been able to approach the palpable stygian oppression of the Hole, but this, he was loathe to admit, was quite close. It was, in a world where a simple prospector could marry a curandera of almost incalculable destructive power, upsettingly unnatural.

He took two steps towards the door. Then three. Then four. By the time of his fifth step, which should have carried him well into the Scarf's dining room, he started to think that he might be in trouble.

---

"This doesn't make sense," Odella growled to hirself, guns lowering a fraction of an inch. Every fibre of hir bring urged hir to bring angry, pointy-leaded death to whatever was interfering with hir world, hir town, hir people, but the unfamiliar question of 'why' was hanging over hir. I can figure this out. I can figure out what's going on here. I don't want to explain to my kids why I was shooting up town. Again.

A third shadowy figure appeared at the distant church, but shi forced hirself to stand hir ground. "A shadow at the Gossamer Scarf. It was gone in a flash. Spooked me. Nothing while we shopped. Then we were getting Kenyon some ice, and... no, no, I saw one before that. When we were all at the statue."

Hir tail rubbed against the back of hir hat, but hir breathing slowed, hir mind slowly calming. "We were all at the statue. And it was up in the window. Just long enough to... to lure me."

Hir tail twitched. "And then we all went inside. Then a scream lured me out, and... and the broken glass. And then south. South to the church. And I didn't move, and then there was a second shadow. And a third." Shi chewed hir lip. "Bait."

"Bait for me."

In the distance, the shadows grew ephemeral, the curtains falling straight once again. A blink of hir eyes, and they might as well have never existed.

This time, the cry that split the hot, dry air was not a woman's cry of distress or fear, it was a deep, guttural bellow of fury, punctuated by the sounds of wood smashing and splintering under tremendous force.

"No," shi said flatly, shaking hir head. "No. No, no, no!"

Despite hir denial, hir feet pounded the parched road like pistons, charging back up the street, past hir statue, hir eyes locked on the swinging doors of the Gossamer Scarf. Countless scenarios of carnage and loss played out in hir mind, the curse of an overactive imagination tempered by a an exceedingly long life spent witnessing the most horrendous aspects of both life and death.

Shi took in the scene in an instant, but although shi was blessed with a curandera's Sight, shi still experienced the world one moment at a time. Odella's first thought was blessed relief at seeing Briar clutched in Kenyon's powerful arms. Hir second was to be impressed by the twisted, gaping hole in the formerly-solid wall caused by Kenyon's passage, a startled and confused Pueblo staring out from within the storage room.

It was only then that shi realized there was someone missing.

Kenyon's chest was heaving, hands flexing in slow disbelief. He looked up at his wife and choked back a sob. Briar clung to him, tucked in below one massive shoulder, looking around for hir sister.

"I was holding her," he moaned, eyes huge and round. "I was holding her. I was holding her..."

---

The world, both Seen and Real, is a vast place, with vast expanses of, at first glance, nothing. The curandera naturally have many ways of travelling such long distances. Odella's preferred method was Dreamwalking, and shi was far better at it that most. It was normally not much faster than regular walking, but the main advantage lay in being able to cover considerable ground while, ostensibly, being fast asleep.

More dangerous but significantly more potent was Walking Above The Land, a technique that allowed vast distances to be traversed in virtually no time at all. Great care had to be taken, however, and even walking during daylight and warded with layers upon layers of protective magicks was no guarantee of a safe journey. The verbal histories of the curandera were scattered with tales of those that set out Above The Land, and were simply never seen again.

The other major drawback at this particular moment was that one could only undertake such a journey alone. It was not an ability that could easily be taught, even among the curandera, and it was most certainly not something that the unprepared could ever navigate.

Ensuring hir family's safety was paramount, and right now that meant shi needed them to be within hir seat of power, within the protected boundaries of hir demesnes. Hir rifle slung across hir back, hir gunbelts thumping with each lurch of hir hips, Odella was returning to hir home the old-fashioned way.

Just behind hir, panting hard, tongue flapping in the wind and already covered with a fine layer of road dust, Kenyon thundered along the Old Road, one child perched on each shoulder. They hung on for dear life, gripping their father's neck as well as eachother, even though the huge fox's hands were clamped down across their legs hard enough to numb their toes.

"You can do it," Odella pleaded under hir breath, maintaining a brutal pace that would have left all but the swiftest sprinters behind. "You're strong. You've always been the strong one. I never could have made it without you..."

Shi could feel his heart against hirs, feel his lungs pumping like bellows, feel the foam flecking his lips as he ran. His body should have given out miles ago, and by all reckoning so should have hirs. Gathered around the wagon, back in Bayside, he had willingly agreed to lend his strength, his life-force, and even though Odella had protested mightily shi had been forced to agree that it was the only way.

And so, those reserves that all folk had, reserves that were only called upon when food, water and hope had given out, were keeping their mortal shells moving. Kenyon was fuelling them both, knowing that when they reached the grotto, Odella would need every last scrap of hir own power to recover Zora. Tears trickling down hir own muzzle, Odella had acquiesced and linked their essences.

The sun was dropping with agonizing slowness towards the horizon, but the journey home was accomplished far faster than had been the morning's jaunt to town. Husband and wife were nearing the apex of the Bloody Foothills, counting down the rusty, bloodstained warning signs. Dashing alongside them was a mangy-looking coyote, all mismatched patchy fur and greasy stains.

"It's all clear!" the coyote barked impatiently. "How many times can I say that?"

"No-one was anywhere near... this morning?" shi wheezed, compartmentalizing the screaming complaints of hir body. Shi was enduring not only hir own pain, but Kenyon's as well, not allowing him to feel the damage that his body was sustaining. "Or last week... when I was gone?"

"Are you deaf, woman? No-one! Not a one! None!" Johnny was wheezing with the effort of keeping up with them, as well as controlling an animal that was never designed for proper speech. "I can't see or smell anything funny up there."

"Funny?!"

"Figure of speech," he yipped. "People don't say 'funny' anymore?"

"Not like that!"

Johnny had known Odella for a long time, perhaps longer than anyone else in this world. For years upon years, even he wasn't entirely sure, he'd occupied his time by periodically inhabiting coyotes and crows and other desert creatures, and befriending children. Their eyes lit up when they realized that there was a talking animal in their lives, and in a bleak, dangerous world, he was sometimes their only friend.

He thought back to that fateful day when little Ilisia had fallen prey to a sinkhole, tumbling a dozen feet and pinned beneath shattered sandstone slabs. Her homestead was only a mile away, but the sobbing, screaming child would not have lasted that long. He was preparing to leap into the hole and try to pull her free, but as his body had been a rangy long-tailed weasel, he was not hopeful if being much assistance. If he'd had tear ducts, he would have cried... and then there was Odella.

The Work had brought hir there with fortuitous timing. The wildly-proportioned coati had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, standing behind the little weasel, hearing him calling down to the trapped ratgirl. Shi had not wasted a second glance on him, moving nimbly down into the sinkhole and tossing the crumbled boulders aside, extracting her with a tender care that belied hir strength. White robes fluttering in the wind, shi carried the injured youngling back to her homestead, treated her wounds, and then left without another word.

Johnny, awed as much by hir appearance as he was by hir almost mythical status, had followed hir for three days, talking almost non-stop. On the morning of the fourth day, shi finally replied.

"Sorry!" he called. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No-" Odella snapped, but shi forced hirself to think rationally. It was hard to break old habits. "Yes," shi panted. "Go on ahead... start the fire... get some food ready... Kenyon will be... in need of it... when we arrive..."

He nodded, four whip-like legs accelerating in a blur. "Will do! Good vibes, 'Dell!" He was almost out of sight with that last word, moving uphill faster than either coati or fox could manage.

Hir blood pounded in hir ears, and Kenyon's heart seemed to throb just behind hir eyes, tingeing hir vision with red. Up ahead shi could sense hir grotto, a tugging sensation, a gravitational pull that always drew hir home. There, shi could throw hir Spirit out into the world, shi could seek hir answers, shi could find hir daughter.

A small but insistent voice in the back of hir mind added, And make them pay. Suffer. Anguish. Torment beyond torments. Blood and bone and bile and-

"That's not me anymore," shi seethed, forcing the saw-toothed, animal voice back. "That's not me."

Oh, but it is. It's always been you. Paint your wagon white, it's still a wagon. Cloak a monster with innocence, it's still a monster.

Somewhere, somehow, Odella managed to dig a little deeper, and shi quickened hir brutal pace up the final swells of the Foothills, Kenyon rattling like a gravel slide behind hir. Shi could feel his lungs, feel the sores spreading in his throat, the blisters lining his feet, the shooting pains in his knees. He couldn't feel them, yet, and shi wished shi could absorb his woes, but there were limits to what shi could do, especially if shi needed all of hir wits to focus on the task at hand.

They crested the lip of the bowl valley, the little homestead spread out below them. After miles and miles of dreary, mouldering browns and greys, the explosion of lush greenery was eye-wrenching. The sparkling stream glowed like liquid gold in the setting sunlight, the enormous ramshackle house rising like an orderly junkheap near the great stone spire that housed the Hole. Normally, such a sight would fill hir with hope and love, boundless excitement for the future with hir family.

Today shi would have traded all of it for a name and a rocket launcher.

"Just let me... get... to the... couch..." Kenyon rasped. Odella glanced back at him and had to bite hir tongue to keep from crying out; hir lovely, powerfully-muscled gentle giant was haggard and gaunt. He still loomed above hir, carrying the kits seemingly without effort, but his clothes were hanging far looser on him than shi could ever recall. "Did... did I do... good?" The puppyish expression of devotion on his face only twisted the knife in hir bosom harder.

"You did great," shi managed, hating hirself for every drop of energy shi was squeezing out of him. Shi knew that he would recover, but that didn't make it feel any better. If anything, the unthinking offering of his life force made it worse. He would give it all and more for his wife and kits, and what would shi do? I'll take it. I take, and take...

Johnny was standing by the open front door of their home, tail wagging. The smell of burning oatmeal wafted through the door. "I can't stir!" he barked. "You might want to-"

"I got it," Pueblo said, hopping down and landing lightly. His body felt like all of his joints had been rattled apart by the journey, but he limped gamely into the kitchen. "Dad, sit down!"

Odella reached up and managed to pluck Briar out of the air before Kenyon stumbled to one knee. He managed three wobbly steps and collapsed onto the couch with a splintering creak. One of the wooden feet shot off into the corner, the entire sofa tilting crazily to one side and sagging underneath his bulk. Face down, limp as a sack of potatoes, he started laughing into the cushions, a long, clattering laugh that veered uncomfortably close to hysteria.

"Mommy...?" Briar said nervously, hugging Odella's leg.

"It's ok, dear, he's just.... he's just tired." Body flooded with the suppressed agonies of their flight, shi moved to kneel at hir lover's side. "Kenyon... can you hear me?"

His laughter continued, body shaking bonelssly. Eventually his jerks became more co-ordinated and shi realized he was trying to roll onto his side. Shi gripped his shoulders, as much to steady him as to stop him from trembling, and helped ease him onto his back. "Haa haa... I made it... I bet you... didn't think I could..."

Odella smiled, sniffing away a tear. "I knew you could," shi whispered, kissing him on his dry, cracked lips. "You're my hero."

Briar was stroking his tail and trying to unlace his boots. "You smell bad."

Kenyon coughed, but kept right on giggling. Odella did not like the way his eyes were rolling, and shi hated hirself for what shi knew was coming next. "That's not very polite," shi admonished hir youngest gently, sniffling again. "Go... go into the kitchen and help your brother. And don't come in here for a minute."

Briar stood up slowly, and nodded. "You need to do this alone," shi said in hir tiny voice, walking backwards. "I'll make sure Pueblo doesn't see."

When shi was gone, Odella and Kenyon stared into eachother's eyes. "I don't know where shi gets that from," he wheezed.

"Me, either."

The clock, a huge beaten-metal construct that was consistently inaccurate, clicked over the mantle.

"Do it."

Odella swallowed, leaning against the prone fox and sighing. Hir leathers had survived the trip only in the loosest possible sense, creamy white fur sprouting from several gaps in hir bodice. Hir overly-tight trousers had managed to chafe a hole large enough that shi could feel a distinct breeze between hir thighs. Normally hir thoughts would have turned significantly more carnal in a position like this. "I..."

"You have to, Odella. You know you have to." His voice was weak, far away.

Shi pressed hirself against him, tears marking dark streaks on hir dusty muzzle. "I know." Shi laughed, a sad, helpless laugh. "I don't have to like it, do I?"

"Don't like it. Hate it." His eyes became hard, his voice recovering some of it's timbre. "Hate it with everything you have, and get our daughter back."

Shi nodded, knowing shi was wasting time, and only delaying the inevitable. "I love you," shi purred, kissing him again, pressing hirself bodily against him.

His huge, comforting arms circled hir and squeezed weakly. "I love you, too. Now do it before I try to-"

There was no way to restore his vigor, or lack thereof, slowly. Shi placed hir paws on his chest and took a deep breath that popped another button free. As much as shi wanted to look away, shi forced hirself to watch his face, to watch the expressions that passed over it as shi released the bond that tied them and the full extent of the journey's costs were tallied all at once. The aches and pains left hir body, the bountiful coati feeling cool and refreshed.

Kenyon stiffened, neck muscles standing out in stark relief, his back arching so violently that Odella was nearly thrown clear. Shi had expected him to bellow with agony, but all that escaped his rictus grin was a thin, reedy whine. He flailed with one great arm, gripping the back of the couch and crushing the frame in his vise-like grip. His other enormous paw latched onto hir upper arm, and shi winced; a regular person would have had their bones ground into gravel under that onslaught.

With hir free hand shi reached up, pressing hir paw against his feverish forehead and giving the only gift shi could in his condition. "Rest now," shi sniffed, pushing back with inexorable strength. "Just rest."

Slowly, slowly, his wracked frame sagged into unconsciousness. The couch creaked and groaned, nearly flattened by his thrashing. Shi kissed his forehead, stroked his gaunt cheek and stood up, tail drooping low behind hir. "He'll need to sleep for a little bit," shi said aloud.

Pueblo and Briar, watching from the archway that led to the kitchen, just nodded. "We'll take care of him," he said, holding the pot of oatmeal. "He'll probably be hungry when he wakes up, right?"

"Very hungry," Odella smiled, smoothing down hir ruined outfit. "Pueblo, you're in charge while I'm gone. Briar, make sure Pueblo doesn't do anything I'd have to yell at him for."

Neither kit smiled back at hir; they simply nodded. "Yes, Mom," they said together.

Hir lower lip quivering, shi gave them each a brief squeeze before sweeping out into the grotto, shedding guns and ammunition as shi walked. Shi could have tromped through the gardens to the spring, through the herbs and the tomato patch and the viridian flowers, but although time was crucial, shi also knew, or at least tried to convince hirself, that brute force was not required here. At least, not yet. Shi followed the swirly, meandering pathways, each step bringing hir fractionally closer to the greasy, murky little pond that made their homestead possible.

"Where were you all day?"

Johnny whined, something his current body was well-equipped to do. "They're all gone! All the animals took off this morning. They sensed something. I had to wait until the coyote family stopped to rest to snag this fella and run all the way BACK here-"

"They sense something?" shi asked, glancing skyward. The stormclouds on the horizon were ominous and approaching, but no-one could control the weather like that. Odella knew that for sure: shi had tried, and failed. What chance did anyone else have?

"Can you stay with the family?" shi said softly. "Just be an extra pair of eyes?"

Johnny rubbed at his muzzle with a forepaw, shaking his head wildly. "This fella does NOT want to stay here, and I'm worried I'm going to give him a stroke if I force him." Seeing the look of confusion on hir face, he rolled his eyes. "A stroke, it's a medical thing, where a blood vessel goes ker-plooie in your brain."

Shi smiled slightly. "I thought you were just being crude. Well... go return your body to his family, and take care."

"You, too, Odella." He whined again, glancing worriedly to the east. "I don't like it." A spray of gravel and a pitter-patter of tiny padded feet, and both spirit and beast were gone.

Shi walked slowly, controlling hir breathing, eyes half-lidded. Hir hands worked automatically, unbuttoning and unbuckling the remnants of hir leathers and dropping them by the wayside. The exceedingly top-heavy coati inhaled deep when hir corsets finally loosened, filling out hir baggy cotton blouse like a pup tent before shi discarded that as well. Shi stepped out of hir chaps, shaking hirself and enjoying the unfettered freedom.

Odella had grown to enjoy the comforting constriction of hir travel garments, the weight of hir revolvers and rifles, and the role of the travelling gunslinger, but it was an enjoyment that had been earned through years of practice, and ignoring hir baser instincts. Standing naked in the setting sun, storm clouds piling up on the eastern horizon, shi felt like hir old self again, the Odella that had stalked the world and struck fear into the hearts of villain and law-abiding citizen alike...

The kits watched Odella disrobe from the large, round window behind the ruined couch, Briar perched on top of Kenyon's slumbering chest and stroking his unruly hair. Hir ears twitched, as though listening to something above hir. "I know. Shi means business," shi said softly, who was still holding the pot of oatmeal.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He was used to his mother's rather unusual appearance, and the family often bathed together whenever there was enough excess rainwater to fill the huge wooden tub, but it was still difficult to look away.

"Shi dropped hir guns. Shi took off hir travelling outfit. Shi got rid of all that stuff."

"So? Shi always takes it with hir when shi goes to Work. Shi's always prepared."

"Exactly," the tiny herm said. "Shi uses all those things, those tools, so shi doesn't have to rely on hir real power."

The older kit tilted his head. "You're crazy, Bri."

"Poop on you, too. At least someone believes me."

Pueblo froze. "Who?"

"Oh. No-one."

Odella perched on the edge of the spring pool, acrid fumes rising off of the poisonous, caustic soup. The irony never failed to tickle hir that hir centre of power, of all places, was a toxic discharge welling up from the ancient ruins of the Old World. On the periphery of hir mind, like the little clusters of bubbles that marred the surface of the lagoon, shi was all too aware of hir husband lying half-dead by hir hand, hir children left to fend for eachother, and Zora... Zora... missing...

In the still air, waves rose and churned in the pool, the gout of water at the center bursting higher. Shi clenched hir fists, forcing hir breath out with excruciating slowness, listening to the turbulence fade. "Peace," shi murmured reassuringly. "Peace. Peace..."

Then the pool was once again mirror-smooth, shi opened hir eyes, smoothed hir palms against hir hips, and moved to perch on the huge, glistening toadstool that served as hir quite literal seat of power. It had originally been a fairly normal fungal growth, but on more than one occasion it had tried to bite Johnny, and even Kenyon was afraid to get too close to it after it growled at him. To hir, though, it seemed to kneel, inviting hir aboard.

Shi sat cross-legged, carefully arranging hir oversized endowments. Without the colossal tension forces of hir leathers, which were going to require some serious repairs, shi expanded to hir natural dimensions, silky fur fluffing up in the cooling evening air. Hir three impossibly full breasts extended well beyond hir ribcage, and well beyond hir upper arms, as well. Hir lap was nearly buried by hir sac, topped by a sheath that simply should not have existed on a body so slender, snuggled up to the underside of hir middle breast, just one of hir many curandera marks.

Hir fingers played over hir sensitive parts, but shi did not need much coaxing to keep hir focus. Shi inhaled again, proud bosom rising and falling. The hair-singeing odors of the pool did not bother hir.

"Here I am," shi whispered, heart beating slowly, the very picture of serenity. "Show me." Shi opened hirself up to the Real world, seeking the Work, rather than having it seek hir. It was not always a co-operative force, whatever strange intelligence or morality lay beneath the surface, but it was on occasion a gentle guide through the murky workings of the evil that filled the world.

The lazy, gentle drip-drip-drip of miasmic water trickling into the pond served as hir timepiece, and shi had counted more than one hundred such droplets before shi let hir annoyance mar hir placid expression.

"Fuck," shi seethed. The Work, on this occasion of all occasions, was nowhere to be found.

Shi could feel no pull, no influence, not so much as a hairs-breadth of pressure from within or without. The buxom coati was at one with each leaf, each twig, each insect that resided in the grotto, but shi couldn't recall ever feeling so alone.

Shi inhaled, flexing hir fingers as though preparing to play the Gossamer Scarf's piano. Hir tail twitched. Hir primary hope had proven worthless, but shi was resourceful. Shi had other methods at hir disposal.

Odella threw back hir head and screamed wordlessly, despairingly. Shi poured all of hir frustrations into that bestial wail, but shi ran out of breath before shi ran out of fury. "Why now?!" shi howled at the moon, rising faintly to the south, nearly overtaken by black thunderheads. "Why?! I've served the Work! I've done everything! Everything that was ever asked of me, that was ever DEMANDED of me! I've left my family time and time again to help others, and when I need you, when I actually need you, you abandon me!"

Hir fists pounded the toadstool beneath hir, bruising and tearing the violet flesh. It trembled beneath hir, but could not hide from those blows. Shi raised hir fist to strike again, but felt the tepid moisture on hir knuckles and froze.

'You knew this would happen someday. You abandoned the Way.'

The curandera shook hir head. "I never abandoned the Way. I took what was mine."

The disembodied voice laughed harshly. 'You know as well as I do you took what was yours just as often as you took what wasn't. You knew the rules. The curandera do not hate. The curandera do not love. The curandera do not let themselves become attached... become vulnerable.'

Hir eyes snapped open. "I'm not-" shi started to say, but caught hirself. Of course shi was vulnerable. More than that, hir family was vulnerable.

Shi felt the presence swirl around hir, caressing hir fur with fleshless fingers. 'No-one ever thought you'd do it, my love, least of all me.'

"How are you here, Cambiado?" shi asked, pummelling hir rage into submission. "Your timing seems quite... fortuitous."

The ethereal presence laughed again. 'I felt your wrath from... so far away,' he crooned, a faint breeze ruffling hir ears. 'How could I not come? You mean so much to me, love. You always have...'

Shi snorted. "I know exactly what I mean to you, Cambiado, and you know what I meant." The grotto was protected by many wards, layers upon layers of self-reinforcing glyphs that kept the poisonous aether away, as well as intruders, scrying and quite specifically disembodied spirits.

'I don't think you've maintained your wards, love. I slipped through like a thief in the night.'

"I can banish you. You know that all too well."

'Odella, I'm hurt! Genuinely. I come here under a cloud of peace, bearing knowledge and wisdom from beyond this mortal realm, and you can only threaten me? For shame.'

"The last time you offered wisdom for free, the price nearly killed me," shi said sweetly, mentally drawing upon the weaves that would, if not destroy hir old mentor, at least keep him from coming around for several more decades.

'Ahhh, the banishment incantations! Very good, very good. Sloppy, though. Surely I had taught you better than that?'

"I learned as much through your incompetence as I did through your lessons."

'Still as impatient as ever, though. It's no wonder the Work abandoned you.'

Hir eyes flew open and shi prepared to let the magical onslaught loose, but hir words died on hir lips. Cambiado had only the very faintest of influences on the world of the Seen, under most circumstances, but within hir grotto it seemed he had considerably greater strength. "No..."

Scrawled in the rainbows of virulent poisons that contaminated the spring was a panoramic landscape, rendered in reds and greens and purples. A butte rose out of a flat, bleak plain, topped with a huge tower that resembled a latticework of colossal iron girders.

'Yes.'

"You can't seriously expect me to believe that. Telkwa?"

'Why is it so hard to believe?'

"We're friends! We exchange wine every Crimbo! Shi made the girls... made them dresses..." shi shook hir head. "Shi would never go against the Way! The curandera do not fight one another!"

'Yes, of course. There are rules. They don't fight eachother. They don't settle down. They don't have families. They don't have children. It would be unthinkable for a curandera to break these simple, ancient customs, would it not?'

Odella tried to tell hirself it was impossible, but more things seemed to come into focus, seemed to make sense. Telkwa was awfully fond of the coati's daughters, forcing gifts upon them anytime they saw eachother, which really hadn't been all that often. Five times? Six? The sun-beaten ermine lived alone on a scorched escarpment that shi was, inch by inch, converting into lush terraced gardens. To the best of Odella's knowledge, the other curandera had no real friends, living even more in the middle of nowhere than shi.

'Shi always did want a daughter...'

Odella nearly got to hir feet, making a mental list of which weapons to bring, but none were more surprised than shi when instead of leaping into frantic, violent action, shi asked, "How do you know?"

Even Cambiado seemed taken aback. 'What sort of protector would I be if I didn't make it my business? Telkwa's smell was all over Bayside. Actually a little surprised you didn't notice it yourself.'

"The darkness," shi cursed under hir breath. "The shadows. Fool!"

'Don't be so hard on yourself-'

"You have three seconds to leave my grotto before I scatter your particles so far and and so wide that the next time we meet I'll have been reincarnated."

'Love, that's awfully harsh-'

"One. Two..."

There was a faint 'blorp' from the pool, and then even to hir vastly-heightened senses at hir throne of power, there was silence.

"Would that you were ever so obedient, Cambiado," shi growled under hir breath. For years, many years, the two had been inseparable. A curandera had to gain knowledge where shi could, and the more senior witches would be just as likely to offer help as they were to be completely, irretrievably insane. Despite the Way, more than one had tried to kill hir in days gone by, but Cambiado, well, it was in his best interests to keep hir alive.

Shi shook hirself. "Not now. I find out for myself. I am no-one's pawn."

Within the house, Kenyon was stirring on the couch, whimpering and wincing with each breath. Briar was pushing the oatmeal-laden spoon at his lips, ever hopeful that he would wake up enough to eat. "You should be getting some liniment for him," shi said. "He's just a giant bruise under all his fur."

"Busy."

"That's not busy, you can do that after you get the liniment! It's upstairs, in Mommy's don't-touch-on-pain-of-death trunk."

Pueblo's fingers moved over the messy table, hunting for the right piece. "All the more reason not to open it. He'll be fine, he's just really... really sore. I saw a building fall on him, down in the Hole. A whole building. He'll shake this off, no problem."

"I don't know," Briar said, eyes huge with concern. "I saw what Mommy was doing to him while they ran. It's not just pain."

"What do you mean, you SAW what shi did? How can you see what shi did?" He finished loading another gun, and laid it on the 'ready' pile. His curiosity was piqued, though. "What did shi do?"

"You don't want to know," shi said softly, pushing at his lips again and managing to get a little bit onto his tongue. "Finish up with the guns and come help me, ok?"

Pueblo looked over at his littlest sister, not even as big as one of Kenyon's arms, feeding him as though he were a baby. Then he looked at the pile of loaded weapons, already taking up half of the table, scattered boxes of ammunition filling the other half. "I suppose that's enough," he said thoughtfully.

When he passed by the couch, he glanced through the window. The shadows were long in the grotto, highlighted by the wrought-iron clouds that were streaming in from the east. "Shi's still out there."

Briar shook hir head. "Nope, shi left a minute ago."

The older half-coati paused, halfway up the steps. "What now?"

"Shi left, into the sky."

"But... that's hir out there on Chompy."

Briar shook hir head again. "Nope. Shi went out for a while. That way," shi said pointing west.

"Who told you so?"

"No-one."

"You're wierd, Bri."

"Shut up, I think Dad's finally eating. Hmm. Nope, false alarm."

Odella, or at least the part of hir that comprised hir six senses, soared numbly through the air. Shi could not feel the wind rushing past hir the way a bird might; to hir, casting hir spirit into the Real was akin to trying to force hir way through thick brambles. Shi would have forced hir way through rusted razor fencing for Zora, shi told hirself, holding hir spirit form together.

The world below was, if not exactly how it would have appeared on a map, close enough for hir to get hir bearings. The Real and the Seen worlds overlapped here, the horizon twisting around hir, fading up into the distance instead of down. If shi had a physical body, shi might have felt dizzy.

Where are you...

It was nearly two hundred miles between Odella's grotto and Telkwa's tower, significantly farther if you travelled by road. There was not, in the strictest sense, a boundary between Odella's territory and Telkwa's, or indeed between any curandera, and quite often the Work brought the coati beyond the ermine's tower, if required. Telkwa was a good healer and mediator, well-spoken and well-read, but abhorred violence. Where a situation called for a closed fist, preferably clutching a gun, Odella found hirself drawn there.

There...

Seen from above, the butte itself was an anomaly, the sort of geometry that nature so rarely created. A cylindrical plug of black-streaked stone rose vertically out of the plains, and only one of the cracked chimneys that marred it's circumference was safe passage to the top, where Telkwa had staked hir claim.

Down...

The tower always impressed, a remnant of the Old World that had somehow resisted war, weather and centuries of decay. Massive, H-shaped iron beams criss-crossed, held together with rusting, pitted bolts. more metal in one place than Odella had ever seen or even imagined. It tapered slightly, the top a platform maybe ten feet across, dizzyingly near two hundred feet above the tabletop surface of the butte.

Down...

Within the base of the tower stood a small red brick cottage, surrounded on all sides by lush, well-manicured gardens. Spreading like moss, the gardens extended beyond the four huge iron pillars that supported the tower, and were slowly working their way up.

In...

It was turbulent, shoving hir way through the protective wards that all curandera learned to rely on, while at the same time being drawn closer by Telkwa's immense power. Shi passed through the slatted wooden roof and into the cottage's single room, and had to resist the urge to throttle the ermine with hir nonexistent hands. Fury bloomed within hir mind, but Odella kept it mostly under wraps.

Not entirely, though. The curvy herm, more plump and matronly, spun away from the window shi had been staring worriedly out of, hir expression growing hard.

"You're here," Telkwa said to the empty room. The sound reached Odella's far-flung senses as though through a vast expanse of water, swirly and distorted. "I knew you would come, eventually."

The wraps burned away like tissue paper, and Odella's anger boiled forth. In hir grotto, the pond fairly exploded with churning froth, and in Telkwa's cottage the sudden wind hurled books from cluttered shelves and rattled the windows in their frames. It was too much for the coati to process, and hir mind recoiled like a bear trap springing, sending hir sprawling from atop hir toadstool.

Shi slumped in the dirt, the toadstool nuzzling at hir foot and making the sorts of worried noises that mushrooms were never intended to make.

It was confirmation. Telkwa had known shi was there, had looked directly at hir, or at whatever part had fled hir body; Odella had never been entirely certain how to explain many of hir own abilities, even to hirself. The rangy ermine, showing hir true age considerably more than Odella, had clearly been expecting hir, but shi had been looking out hir window.

"Shi had expected me to come on foot," Odella muttered, getting to hir feet. "Shi had expected me to come in guns blazing. Well, shi's not entirely stupid then."

The pool settled down again, the shoreline sizzling and smoking from the noxious splashes, but ripples still marred it's surface. While shi had been casting hir spirit, a cool breeze had sprung up, ruffling hir fur. Shi glanced up at the angry looking clouds that towered menacingly to the northeast, eagerly drinking up the last rays of the sun.

Shi stood on hir tiptoes and gauged how much sunlight remained. There would be time. It would be close, but there would be time...

"Welcome back, Mom!" Briar said brightly, waving with one tiny paw while the other continued to spoon oatmeal into hir father's mouth. "You found hir, didn't you?"

Odella kept hir face blank. "I found someone who knows, love," shi said, ruffing Briar's hair and leaning down to kiss Kenyon's forehead, pressing hir naked breasts against his muzzle. He murred appreciatively and stirred, but his eyes still stared woozily out at the world from behind a fog of injury and exhaustion. "I'm going to go have a little talk with them."

Walking slowly, almost dreamily, shi padded upstairs. Briar and Pueblo watched hir, exchanging worried glances. "Uh oh," he said, hiding a loaded shotgun beneath the couch and stashing a revolver in one of the potted ferns. "That's not good."

"What?"

"Did you see how shi was walking? Talking?"

"Yeah." the tiny herm said, scratching hir head. "Shi's on the trail. Shi's calmer now."

Pueblo shook his head. "I've known hir longer than you. You might be, you know, in tune with the Work and the Way and the whole Earth-spirit thing, but... when shi talks like that, where shi sounds like shi's half asleep and shi's sort of smiling to hirself, it's time to be afraid."

Briar swallowed. "Us?"

"Oh, no. No, not us." From upstairs came the sounds of the don't-touch trunk being dragged across the floor. "Definitely not us."

A few minutes later, Briar and Pueblo stood on the homestead's ricketty front porch, watching their mother walking slowly up to the rim of the little bowl valley. In times past, the family would play a little game, where they would take turns waving to their mother's retreating back, and Odella, using the Sight if not for personal gain then at least for selfish amusement, would wave back without looking. Today, though, they waved without response.

"Shi'll be back in the morning," Pueblo said, putting his arm around Briar's thin shoulders. "Come on, Dad ate all the oatmeal. Let's cook something else, ok? What do you want?"

Briar's nose was in the air, sniffing while shi waved. "It's going to storm tonight."

"Oh, gee, figured that out with your nose, did you? The giant clouds that've been rolling in since lunch didn't tip you off?" He tousled hir hair and gently guided hir back into the house. "Come on, twerp. I'll even let you add the honey."

Hir ears perked up. "Really?"

"From the little pot."

"Awww."

Pueblo and Briar glanced back once before shutting the door, towards the edge of their little homestead. In the slanting sunlight they could see their mother's footprints in the powdery soil, but they seemed to vanish only halfway to the lip.

Of Odella, there was no sign.

---

Walking Above The Land was a good way for Odella to be alone with hir thoughts. It was good for very little else.

All around hir were the familiar landscapes of the Bloody Foothills, twisted spires and globular protrusions and jagged, impossible knives of rock reaching skyward. To hir Sight, though, and hir picture-perfect recall, everything was ever so slightly off. Some of the features were more eroded, some less, some different colors, and everything was punctuated by the eerie, half-seen shapes of every living being that had lived, and died, on those rocks.

A small, catlike skeleton darted across hir path, hissed at hir, and disappeared.

"Nice to see you too, Greebo," shi whispered, hir words falling like droplets of molten lead. There was no sound here, not really. Hir footfalls were felt, not heard, and even the familiar swish of hir tail was gone.

And of course, shi thought, don't look up.

Normally shi'd never have Walked while still within the Foothills; there was too much unpleasantness in those poisonous mounds. With the sun so low in the sky, and with hir daughter hanging in the balance, every minute counted. The world around hir throbbed like a heartbeat, but shi put it out of hir mind.

There was no room for error, not in this place. Walking briskly, steadily, shi reached the base of the Foothills in an hour, and a short while later passed the Ranger station. That morning it had been painted a faded green with a wide porch out front, and now it was hardly more than a few standing planks and a pile of hearthstones. That might not be a portent of things to come next week, next month or next year, but it was just another sign of the impermanence of the Seen world.

After several more hours, shi fell into hir typical Walking rhythm. Shi counted hir steps under hir breath, shi counted hir ammunition over and over, shi counted the rocks that cast shadows and the rocks that cast none. It kept hir mind occupied. An unoccupied mind, a mind without a routine to keep focus, might well forget why they were Walking in the first place, and then, might just Walk on forever and ever.

"Amen," shi muttered bitterly.

The sun was in roughly the same position in the sky when shi successfully counted hir ammunition for the thousandth time. That was in itself the real trick of Walking Above The Land. Each step still had to be measured and taken, each breath still had to be drawn, for no magic could give you something for nothing, but stepping between the moments of the Seen world could save you time, if such a thing could be saved. The journey would take it's toll on hir, as the earlier one took it's toll on Kenyon, but Odella was good at putting off the inevitable.

Two hundred miles, shi tried not to think, putting one paw down in front of the other below an unchanging sky. I'm coming, baby. I'm coming.

---

The wind had risen considerably, the various patchwork pieces of their ramshackle house clattering and creaking and letting in the occasional raindrop. The weather in the Foothills was generally mild, particularly with Odella's enchantments warding away the worst of it. Storm fronts and spring squalls parted like curtains to avoid the barren, radioactive slump, so proper weatherproofing had never been a major concern.

"Knew I shoulda... bought more tarps..." Kenyon groaned, moving through the living room, bent and hobbled like an old man.

"Dad, stay in bed!" Briar commanded, standing on the bottom step and waving hir wooden spoon imperiously. "You're not well!"

He shook his head, wincing as it caused some previously-unfelt bones to scream in protest. "Your mother's out... out there, doing what shi does. I've gotta do... what I've gotta do."

"You gotta get in bed!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Da-a-ad," Pueblo called from the kitchen. "I've got more o-o-oatmeal for you, if you lay do-o-own!"

Kenyon couldn't keep a smile off of his lips. "Blueberries?"

"Honey!" Briar snapped, smacking him with hir spoon. "But you need to lay down!"

Slowly, audible pops emanating from his entire oversized frame, he straightened up until he reached his full, agonized height. Wobbling unsteadily, he braced himself against the fireplace, wind howling down the chimney. "Maybe I could agree to... sit down. For a little bit."

"Only if you're sure," Pueblo snarked, coming out with a fresh pot. Already the huge fox had eaten two pots of oatmeal as well as all of the remaining jerky. There was precious little food left in the house, and large portions of the homestead gardens were not ripe enough to consume, but no-one dared mention the morning's events. The wagon, loaded down with staple supplies, still sat in Bayside, just outside the Gossamer Scarf.

He lowered himself to the ground in front of the hearth, and beckoned to Briar. "You want to learn how to start the fire?"

"Dad, you taught me how to start the fire years ago," shi chided him, whapping him with the spoon again.

"Then you can teach me how to do it. I seem to have... forgotten how my arms work..."

Briar dutifully worked to get a crackling fire going, fighting against the gusts coming down the flue. Kenyon inched closer, soaking in the early warmth and periodically dipping his muzzle into the pot of chili that Pueblo had placed next to him. "You're doing good," he smiled, rubbing his head against his youngest's side. "You're such a big girl."

"Yes, I am," shi said proudly.

Pueblo stood by the window, watching the storm wrapping around the homestead. "Hey, Dad?"

Kenyon swallowed another mouthful of chili and sighed, feeling his strength slowly returning, even though it only enabled him to more accurately feel the accumulated damage of his strenuous efforts. "Mmm?"

"Is anyone from Bayside coming up here with our stuff?"

"What? Of course not, no-one would dare the hills with a storm coming in... and they'd have had to hurry just to get here this fast!" His tail stiffened, and he achingly craned his head to look Pueblo's way. "Why?"

"Because someone," he said nervously, "just came over the hill."

---

Odella wiped away another tear and shook hir head. "One hundred and seventy nine," shi counted, setting hir gaze on the horizon once again. Telkwa's butte was close now, a massive blocky outcropping framed against the setting sun. The sun had been setting for the past... shi wasn't sure how long shi had been walking, and trying to work it out was a waste of hir unending time. Days? Days, certainly. Shi had not stopped to rest. Shi had to keep moving. There was no rest to be had in a land without time.

The desert. The silence. More than just animals had lived and died on this forsaken plane. Several times, shi had seen ghostly figures rising out of the earth, staring at hir with blank, vacant expressions. Some seemed to be pleading with hir, while others tried to flee. All dissipated under in the sun's low, slanting rays, hir only real protection against the dangers of the World Above.

Even walking into the shadow of the butte was taking hir life in hir hands, but shi had to get closer...

---

A flash of lightning split the night, the sun having long since vanished. It had not set, not yet, but the coalsack storm clouds had rolled over the Foothills like a smothering blanket. The wind rose and faded, then returned with renewed vigor. It was already the worst tempest Kenyon could remember, and the ferocity only seemed to be building.

"Figures," he grunted, standing by the fire, propping himself up with the two largest shotguns.

"Does this have to do with Zora?" Pueblo asked from the top of the stairs, hidden in deep shadows. He leaned against the stack of hunting rifles for reassurance, Briar curled up in a tight ball behind him.

"I don't know... seems like an awful coincidence, though." He peered through the living room window, waiting for another flash. The figure was hunched, moving with the pace of a cripple. Might be someone who got lost, he thought, and just followed the road up into the Foothills. Maybe he didn't see the signs in the dark. Maybe his fur hadn't started to fall out yet.

He shook his head, unable to convince himself. "Pueblo, I don't want you to worry about the guns. I don't want you to worry about me. Keep Briar and yourself safe. Go down the Hole if you need to. I've got supplies down there. You'll be ok, for a little while."

"Dad-"

"Listen!" he barked, moving to rest his back against the wall near the door. "Don't worry about me! That's an order!"

Pueblo's ears flattened, and Briar shuddered. Their father never spoke above his pleasant, unassuming drawl. He had never raised a fist in anger that they could recall, despite his intimidating size and renowned strength. In a stressful situation, he was always the peacemaker, moreso than even his curandera bride.

"Pueblo?" Briar said tremulously, squeezing his paw.

"It's ok, Bee," he said. "It's ok. It's... probably nothing."

At the front door, easily heard above the raging storm, there was a polite knock.

---

Curandera Telkwa, renowned herbalist and agricultural expert, pored over the selection of delicate glass vials on hir spice shelf. Shi removed a tiny pinch from one, crumbling it unhurriedly into hir teabag, and then carefully re-sealed the tiny jar. "Hmmm," shi murmured, tapping hir chin. "Wormswort?"

On hir tiny wood stove, hir only other concession to modern living boiled merrily away, a bronze teapot that had been a gift from Kenyon the previous Crimbo. Even empty it weighed more than nearly anything else shi owned, but it sure did make a lovely cup of tea.

Shi heaved a sigh, hir modest bosom briefly visible beneath hir loose, shapeless robes. Shi tied with teabag with tiny, practiced motions and dropped it into the teapot, reaching for the ponderous kettle.

When hir front door exploded inwards, ripping the hinges from the frame and the frame itself from the rest of hir cottage, hir hand trembled slightly, but shi finished filling the teapot without spilling so much as a drop. In the ensuing maelstrom of debris shi tried to keep track of just how many of hir possessions were falling to their untimely demise, but the Sight had never been hir strongest suit.

"Come in," shi called, picking up the teapot in one hand and two cups with the other, turning to face the cavernous opening where hir door had once been. "It's not locked." Telkwa stopped after only two steps, though. It was either that or ram eyeball-first into a rifle barrel.

"Where is my daughter?" Odella asked. Hir voice was level, calm. Rational. Shi was rather proud of hirself.

"Safe," the ermine replied, stepping to the side and continuing to the tiny barrel-top table. "Tea?"

The huge rifle, nearly as long as Odella was tall, unerringly tracked the approximate centre of Telkwa's skull. "I'm going to ask you again, and this time I'm actually going to be expecting an answer."

"Do you remember what you got me for Crimbo last year?" the dusky brown curandera asked, tugging on the teabag a few times and swirling it around. "Not your family, but you yourself?"

Odella inhaled once, slowly, left eye twitching. Beneath hir bandoliers and hip-belts, beneath hir sturdy black leather vest and hir wide-brimmed hat, the coati wore a long, simple white dress. After all those years at the bottom of hir trunk, shi was amazed the Foothill moths hadn't consumed it. It shifted and flexed as shi moved, reminding hir of hir somewhat less responsible days... not something Telkwa should be bringing up, shi thought. "Yes, I do."

Telkwa poured the tea with great care. "I said thank you for them. You recall."

"You did." The rifle rattled, just once.

The ermine replaced the pot and moved to one of the many little shelves that lined the ricketty walls. Between two pewter-framed pictures of men that Odella did not recognize, there were three little dolls. They were of different sizes, with pointy ears, tapered muzzles and long, black-striped tails. Two wore tiny pink and green dresses, while the largest wore faded blue coveralls. "They were lovely, don't get me wrong, Odella. I know how much effort they must have taken you. Hah. You never were very crafty."

Odella licked hir lips. "Did you think I was mocking you?" shi asked softly but incredulously. "How could you think that?"

"Oh, it wasn't on purpose," shi mused, taking down one of the dolls. "I know you'd never be so cruel on purpose. No, with you it was always just sort of... incidental."

The coati's arms shook, spreading to hir ears and hir tail until shi threw the gun to the ground in frustration. "That's what this is all about? My kits?" shi seethed, anger boiling over again. "All this is just jealousy?!"

"You know something? I thought I was jealous, at first. Oh, don't just stand there, drink your tea." Telkwa sipped hir own, staring pensively at the little ragdoll. "It was a new feeling for me. I always knew I'd never have kits of my own. Even before I found a mentor and learned the Way, I somehow knew. It was comforting to know that I wasn't alone, though."

"You stupid woman," Odella growled. The teacup on the table rattled in it's saucer, splashes of hot liquid sloshing onto the table. "You thought you could just... take someone else's? Have you learned nothing of balance?"

Still placidly sipping hir tea, still conversing as pleasantly as anyone could expect on a warm spring night, Telkwa shook hir head. "Terrible weather tonight," shi mused, glancing out the window. The butte was idyllic, the nearly-set sun painting the desert in hues of purple, the skies above clear. "Most unusual for this time of year. Surprised you left your home-"

"That's not what I want to hear!" the coati bellowed, a cloud of splintered wood and loose papers rising around hir like a fountain. Telkwa flinched and put hir tea down.

"Curandera can't bear children," the ermine said, the first hints of annoyance creeping into hir voice. "For ages, that's been the way, and not for an apparent lack of trying. Goodness, you were proof of that. The others and I, when we got together... well, your exploits were legendary."

Odella was off-balance. This wasn't how it was supposed to have gone. Days spent Above The Land, planning and worrying and telling hirself not to hesitate. Take out a leg, take out an arm, do whatever it takes. "The old days are behind us, Telkwa. I'm not... that person anymore." Keep stalling, bitch, and you might see that Odella again once more before you die.

"No, you're not. You, the wild child, of all people... settled down. Got married. Had ch..." hir voice hitched, and shi visibly calmed hirself. "Had children."

"You might want to be careful with those two particular words," Odella hissed. "You know what I had to do to get here tonight. So I'm going to ask you. Again. And if you don't tell me the truth, they're not going to be able to tell you from the hole in the ground where your cottage used to sit. Now where... is... Zora?"

"Why, Odella... she's right where you left her."

---

It had been a very eventful, stressful afternoon for the population of Bayside. A visit by the curandera was always a time of revelry, at least in recent years. There would be the huge crowd gathering to watch the family leave, impromptu gifts would be exchanged, musical instruments would be dispersed. The final bursts of levity and carousing would only be silenced by the first rays of dawn, and would be followed by a week of recovery, excuses and alibis.

But this visit had left the collected nerves of the town beyond frayed. The mood was sombre as the folks emerged, and word slowly spread. Bayside had been an oasis of peace in a dangerous world, more than ten years of tranquility. Their prosperity grew, and for the first time anyone could remember they felt safe to raise their families, felt they could bring their children up with lives full of joy.

Sweeping up inside the Gossamer Scarf, it seemed like the illusion had finally been shattered.

The sky was dark now, the fringe of a ghastly storm rattling everyone's shutters. Rico and a few of the waitresses that did not have families to rush home to were nearly finished patching up the wall and re-stacking all of the dry goods. It was only a few broad flat planks, but it would do for now.

Rico slumped over his broom, staring out at his establishment. A dozen crates had been dragged up from the cellars when Odella was seen riding into town, crates that had not been broken open in far too long. Streamers, fire crackers, brightly colored hats... with the weather looking so good, it had looked like a party to remember, those that got their memories back. His wine cellar might never have recovered, but it would have been worth it.

Everyone wanted to help, but no-one was quite sure how. This was well beyond the scope of what the average farmer, candymaker or clothier was equipped to deal with. Dozens of people had reported seeing the shadowy figures, transparent like smoke, but all signs of evil magic had vanished with the curandera. Even so, the town fairly blazed with light, every available lantern being brought into service and even a few bonfires dotting the main streets.

"Boss? I'm going home," said Melinda, one of the Circle grrls that worked at the Scarf. Most of the Circle had made an appearance, hoping that they could find some small way to glean information from the wrecked room, but all had confessed failure. "Is there anything you need?"

Rico yawned and shook his head. "No, that's fine. I'm locking up anyways." He stared sadly through the swinging doors. "No-one's really in the mood for a party tonight. The rest of you, go home."

Half a dozen girls glanced up from their menial and quite pointless duties. One was wiping down the spotlessly clean bar, one was scrubbing the immaculate windows, others were puttering in the fashion of busy but idle hands everywhere. "That's ok, Mister Rico," a tall badgergirl said gently, "we don't mind."

"Well, I do. I'm tired. Go on home, go to bed. We'll... we'll see what the morning brings." He started to shoo them towards the door, flapping at them with his apron when he froze, head tilted to the size, ear cocked. "What's that?"

Everyone froze, but Melinda held up hir hands for silence and stillness anyways. Always assume a position of authority, Odella had taught the Circle grrls. In an emergency, there will always be a position of power near the top that no-one wants. Seize it! "I hear... it's far away... cellar!"

The petite pup-girl had expected a sudden stampede to the cellar door, but the stampede consisted entirely of hir. Shi was reaching for the handle when shi realized that now the sound was behind hir. Melinda turned, staring at the closed and latched door to the storage room. "Curious," shi said, remembering rule number two: never admit you don't know what's going on, merely that you don't know yet.

Tentatively, shi reached out and gripped the handle. As one, Rico and the onlooking girls stepped back, hands raised. Melinda took a deep breath, braced hirself, and flung the door open.

The sound was louder now, a faint keening like a tin whistle played underwater. The inside of the storeroom was dark. "Lantern," shi snapped, "now!"

For several seconds the only sound was hir hand swishing back and forth expectantly. When shi turned the full fury of hir stare on the crowd, one of the girls squeaked and obediently brought one of the oil lamps over. Melinda grabbed it and held it up to the interior of the storeroom, hir ears flattening to hir head.

"Wha..." the waitress quavered, putting her hands to her mouth and stepping back. The doorframe glowed brightly, well-scrubbed pine shining, but the storeroom was, by all rights, simply not there. Melinda couldn't tell if it was a black, shadowy curtain, or a yawning portal to an endless void; hir imagination decided the latter and ordered hir to run.

The sound continued to rise, drawing closer. "Shut the door," the waitress whimpered. "Shut the door!"

"No," Melinda breathed, moving forwards, bringing the lantern right up to the very brim of that inky absence of substance. Shi could just make out on the periphery the faint tracework of magic, the interactions between the Seen world and the Real. Shi was still a little fuzzy on how it all worked, but this was definitely... something. The threadlike strands wove in and out of the blackness like stitchwork, and shi swore shi could see them moving.

"What?!"

The wailing noise filled the Scarf now, several waitresses hugging eachother.

"Melinda, I think you should-" Rico started, moving towards hir.

"-aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

The bottomless shadow burst like a bubble, and Melinda suddenly found hirself tackled about the waist by a small, thrashing, hyperventilating figure. They fell backwards, Melinda landing hard, dropping the lantern and trying to grapple with hir assailant, but those small, powerful paws climbed up hir with terrified strength. It inhaled and screamed again, but it buried it's muzzle against Melinda's dress and all that came out was a stifled, choked sob.

The storeroom, once again brightly lit, was back to normal. Rico, overcoming his shock, knelt by Melinda's side. "Oh my goodness," he breathed, helping Melinda sit up and hugging them both. "I don't believe it!"

Zora, still shaking, fur frosty to the touch, lifted her head to look at Melinda.

"D... Daddy?"

---

The gentle rapping came again, all the more ominous against the beam-rattling storm that wrestled with the house. Pueblo's fingers tightened on the rifle, squinting as though he could see through the heavy wooden slab. "You should get back, Briar. Briar?"

He turned to look at hir and saw hir huddled against the opposite wall, head bent low, and apparently talking to a small crack in the wall. "I don't want to leave," shi whispered.

Pueblo's brows furrowed worriedly. "Oh, don't go strange now, Bee," he moaned quietly.

His sister shook hir head. "It's scary outside! I can't leave Daddy, he's sick!"

The hunched figure knocked at the door again, slightly more forcefully. Kenyon shuddered, gesturing to Pueblo and then nodding to the door. The huge fox set his legs, braced himself, and hoisted both shotguns. He swooned, and for a moment Pueblo was worried his father would not be able to support his own weight, let alone the added weight of his weapons, but they both sighed with relief when he remained upright.

The half-fox inched backwards, taking aim at the door but turning his attentions back to Briar. "Stop talking to yourself, and listen! You have to hide!"

"I'll see what I can do," shi said, then blinked and looked at hir brother. "What?"

He bonked his head against the railing and groaned. "I said, hide, blast you!"

Shi blinked. "I already know that. I'm not dumb, you know."

"Oh, for... just go!"

Briar stood up and moved towards the kits' bedroom, holding out hir hand as though being led by a figure much taller than hirself. "Don't worry, we know good spots!"

Pueblo's stomach lurched. "Great, just great," he hissed under his breath. "Mom's gone, Zora's missing, Dad's crippled, and Briar's talking to the ceiling. It's up to me to save the day, I guess. Good thing I'm a better shot than Dad." His words were brave, his eyes steely, but his paws trembled. He had never felt frightened before, not in this house, but now it was as comforting as an umbrella under a rockslide. What was happening?

The handle turned, tiny metallic bits and pieces leaking out of the mechanism, the sickening crunch filling the room. Two sets of fuzzy paws tightened on triggers as the door was blown open by the tempest, raindrops whistling in nearly horizontally.

"Hello," the shape spoke smoothly, melodiously. "Is Briar home?"

Brighter than the flashes of lightning outside, Kenyon and Pueblo fired.

---

Odella's fur fluffed out all over hir body, tiny blue sparks dancing between the cartridges on hir bandolier. "What?" shi said flatly.

Telkwa heaved a sigh, moving to the only large window in hir cottage and staring to the east. "Very strange weather. Quite unseasonal." Even at this distance, tiny flashes of lightning can be seen, the blackness spreading nearly horizon to horizon, obliterating the outline of the Foothills.

Odella had had enough. Shi strode purposefully towards hir former comrade, knocking the little table and the teapot aside, and spun the ermine around. "You're lucky you caught me on a good night, witch," shi growled, tail shaking like a rattlesnake. Hir paw found Telkwa's throat without any protest, and it took a supreme effort not to squeeze. "Do you enjoy testing my patience? You spoke of the old days... you of all people should know what I can do when I'm upset."

"What right have you to be upset?" Telkwa snapped, for the first time speaking with passion. Hir eyes blazed, hir delicate lips pulling back to reveal yellowing but needle-sharp teeth. "By what right?! You have and will continue to have far more than any of us, and you never even wanted it! You have your acolytes, you have a homestead, you have your husband and your children, be it three or two, you ha-" Hir tirade was cut off by Odella clenched fist around hir neck.

"Be... it... two?" shi rattled, barely able to form words. "You think... that I should be happy to lose a child?"

Shadows flowed out from behind every shelf, beneath every rug, out of Telkwa's very clothing, enveloping the ermine. Dissipating like steam, Odella found hirself clutching nothing but air.

"You took what was not yours for years, Odella! Decades! How you've managed to keep Kenyon from learning the truth is a mystery beyond my abilities, but you will never fool me. You took money, you took food, you took men and women by force! How does the Way repay your senseless, violent gluttony? With a reward beyond measure! How do you act when your past catches up to you, and yet still leaves you that which I can never have?"

Odella breathed hard, resisting the urge to remove what scraps of self control remained. Information. Zora. Think of Zora. "I don't know how!" shi shouted. "I don't know why! I met Kenyon by chance, and by all rights he should have died! I'd have sworn he was beyond my abilities to heal, but he survived, and... and somewhere in that ordeal, I thought of someone other than myself."

Shi heaved a breath, turning slowly to see Telkwa standing by the door, sipping hir tea again. "He should have died. I should have left him. The Way was no guidance... but I didn't give up. I wanted to, a few times." Odella sniffled, remembering those tenuous first days in the cave so long ago, and the weeks of recuperation that followed. Hir big fox, nearly furless, bleeding from a hundred sores, more skeleton than skin. Despite hir appearance, he stared at hir as though shi were an angel of mercy. Even when he lacked the strength to move his head or raise his arms, his tail would wag whenever shi returned.

"I don't care about that," Telkwa snorted dismissively. "I've buried more husbands than a mantis. Three of them died while I was out, performing the Work, two of them undiscovered until I returned home. Can you imagine what that's like?"

Odella stared. "No," shi said at last. "I suppose not. Zora... what could you hope to gain with Zora? Do you imagine even for a moment that shi would obligingly become yours? That this, in any possible reality, could bring you the family you want?"

Telkwa threw back hir head and laughed harshly. "All these years, and you still don't listen! How many times can I tell you, you stupid woman? I did not kidnap your daughter! She is in Bayside! She's been there the entire time! Honestly, I should just leave you here to wallow in your own impulsiveness."

The coati's fir smoothed out. Hir tail grew still. Shi straightened hir back, flexing hir fingers and blinking. Telkwa was telling the truth. Shi had been telling the truth the entire time, Odella knew, but the truth was something that a curandera could twist like a tumbleweed. "She is?" shi asked sweetly.

"Yes! She is yours for the taking, and would have been had you the patience you preach. Ever the wild child, Odella. Shameful. You should just... oh."

Like a clap of thunder, the windows exploded outwards, frames and all, showering the many-layered herb gardens with glass, powder-dry timber and flecks of plaster. The colossal iron tower wobbled and swayed, rocked to it's tenuous foundations by the blast.

---

"You know," said the cloaked figure, dry despite the maelstrom outside, "it really would be easier if you just told me. I offer sweet little Zora up to you in return, and what do you do? You refuse! I do hope she never discovers yours betrayal. At such a young age, she might never recover."

Pueblo glared balefully up at the intruder, willing strength into his limbs but finding none. He had been small, hunched over when the half-fox has spotted him, but now he looked tall, straight, strong. The young kit struggled to snarl, to spit, to swear, anything, but his body lay petrified and useless.

Droplets of water floated through the den, sparkling in the dying light of the fire. Gaps had opened up in the homestead's thin walls, windows twisted in their frames, sheets of tin roofing had blown completely away.

Next to him, his father lay equally motionless, gurgling wetly with every exhalation. Blood trickled from his muzzle, matting his fur and staining the floorboards. Pueblo hadn't seen the aftermath of their failed round of gunfire, but when his eyes recovered from the muzzle flash he saw Kenyon slump haggardly to the ground.

"Ah well. I suppose I'll just have to... play your little game." Purring loudly, the cloaked shape sniffed at the air, eventually gazing up towards the second floor. "Really, I had expected so much more from hir."

Pueblo watched him walk to the stairs, unhurriedly climbing. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Up the stairs and down the hall, the kits' bedroom door was shut and locked. Briar had started to push hir little bed in front of it, but remembering the lock on the front door, shi dismissed that idea. "I have to slow him down a little, though, don't I?"

From near hir rattling window, a voice so deep it could hardly be considered a voice at all intoned, "NO. COME."

The tiny herm stamped hir foot indignantly. "Tea, I can't just leave! There's a storm out there, and it's a strange storm. You can feel it, can't you?"

Tea, as they had decided it should be called after it's brief, confusing explanation as to what it had once been called, was only rarely visible to hir, and when it was it was as little more than an ethereal yellow outline. Since the onset of the storm, though, it had acquired significantly more definition, arms and legs clearly visible, though the face was blank and quite literally transparent. "OH, YES. I CAN FEEL IT. YOU MUST LEAVE."

Shi ran up to the towering, ghostly shape and bared hir tiny teeth. "Pueblo and Daddy are... are paralyzed, or something! Daddy's bleeding! If I leave, he'll kill them!"

"NO."

Water sluiced in around hir poorly-sealed window. Hir jaw dropped when shi realized that was all Tea was going to say. "How do you know?"

"OUT," it droned, gesturing to the window, amorphous arm passing through it. "OUTSIDE. NOW."

"That's the roof!"

Tea pointed to the door. "THAT IS DEATH."

Briar's tail drooped. "You make a persuasive argument."

Shi only had the window up an inch, but hir dress was already slicked hir fur, rain sheeting in like nails. "The rain is wrong," shi grunted, pushing the rain-swollen window higher. "Can you feel it? Why is the rain wrong?"

Tea watched impassively from outside, hovering in midair. Raindrops slashed through him, leaving green sparklers where they intersected his fleshless form. "IT IS A REMNANT FROM THE PAST. FROM THE WARS THAT DESTROYED YOUR WORLD. I WILL DO WHAT I CAN TO KEEP YOU SAFE, LITTLE ONE. CLIMB."

Briar slipped through the window, clinging desperately to the sill, lowering hirself to the flat metal roof below. The ice cold sheets were vibrating in the gale, and one had completely vanished, giving hir a view of the rapidly-soaking kitchen. Shi dared not let go of the wall, half-expecting a gust to billow hir skirts and toss hir into the night. "GREAT PLAN!" shi yelled.

"COME. FASTER."

"THIS IS NOT EASY!" Hir tail was whip-thin behind hir, fur flattened by the driving rain. Blunted claws digging in for dear life, shi shuffled along, pressing hir body against the the wall. "WHERE ARE WE GOING?"

"YOU MUST LEAVE THIS PLACE."

Shi gawked, staring at Tea's floating presence. Within its yellow periphery a green flicker was growing in intensity. "LEAVE?"

"HE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO FOLLOW, IF YOU GET BEYOND THE STORM."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?"

Tea drifted closer, one single, brilliantly blazing eye opening on its face. "I KNOW."

---

Telkwa staggered to one knee, pushing hirself out of the dirt. Around hir, the centuries-old cottage swayed back and forth, more than half the walls simply gone. "I have to commend you," shi wheezed, rising unsteadily to hir feet. Bits of carefully bred and raised herbs littered hir plain dress, and shi sighed sadly, taking in the devastation. "I honestly didn't think you'd have held back so long."

Odella brushed a few flecks from hir dress. "Me either," shi chuckled. "Maybe I'm getting old."

"It happens to all of us," Telkwa agreed, twisting and feeling a twinge in hir back. "You didn't have to-" The powerful right hand drove into the ermine's jaw, hurling the older curandera through the sundered wall and into the gardens.

Odella shook out hir paw, dispassionately watching Telkwa roll to a stop. "Yes," shi said simply. "I did."

Growling, almost feral, Telkwa barked a laugh. "I may have to grant you that one," shi conceded, laying flat on hir back. "But I am not a pushover."

The outrageously curvy coati pressed hir paw against one of the exposed timbers, the cottage creaking and inching further to the side. "If you say so."

The final rays of sunlight slipped away, the sky around them a rich indigo. "You know, you have always known, that my power lay within the darkness." Telkwa swayed on hir hands and knees, making no move to stand. "Shadows. Absences. Void. I managed to fool you from hundreds of miles away."

"Mmm, yes. I was fooled." Bayside. I can be there in the morning. Zora, I will never leave you again... "It was a wonderful lesson. Truly, you have shown me the error of my ways."

Telkwa hawked and spat, blood trickling from hir mouth. "I take it back. It's a miracle you've survived this long with such a woefully underused brain. Do you still think this was about you?"

Both curandera struck, drawing upon reserves of power they were forbidden from using against one another. An invisible column of force flattened the ermine, along withl as a huge circle of herbs and spices, kicking up a brief tornado, while waist-thick tentacles of liquid onyx burst from the earth, striking at the coati. Shi raised hir arms protectively but was caught across the belly, blasting the air from hir lungs and tossing hir clear through the cottage and out the other side.

The tower creaked, sounding like a brutally wounded leviathan. Odella winced and rolled nimbly to hir feet, one of hir torn leather bandoliers falling away. "That was good, old witch!" shi cried, wondering why shi was smiling. "That almost hurt!"

Walking briskly, shi rounded the cottage, scanning for Telkwa. No doubt the ermine had used hir shadows to flee; the old herm had never been one for combat. That had always been Odella's forte. Odella was no longer the wild, impetuous terror of the desert, though, or at least now shi was more than that. Hir tail twitched, a faint tremor passing through the world of the Real into the world of the Seen, and shi turned...

The black tentacle lashed at hir and was deflected harmlessly away in a shower of blue sparks. From within the cottage the coati heard a squawk of pain. "You are getting slow!" Odella bellowed, preparing to fell the rickety building once and for all. "Maybe this is for the best!"

The sudden silence, the sound of air rushing in to fill the void. Odella held back, hir senses stretched to the limit. Tricky... but I can find you. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," shi sing-songed, drawing one of hir revolvers.

"You'll kill me?" The ermine's husky voice came from all around. "You'll trade your daughter for petty revenge? I suppose I should have expected that, from you..."

Ice trickled down Odella's spine. "She's in Bayside, and she's fine. You said so yourself. It was the truth!" But already shi could tell that something was not right.

"Do you know why I sequestered Zora? Have you any clue whatsoever?"

Where are you, you bitch. "You've made your point."

Lilting laughter drifted through the night air. "It is strange weather we're having tonight, isn't it? Such a storm the likes of which mine eyes have never seen, oh my goodness yes..." Telkwa stepped out from behind a girder, kicking hir feet almost girlishly. "Can't even see home anymore, can you?"

The revolver spun in Odella's paw, snapping to attention aimed squarely at Telkwa's knee. "I know where it is. It's just a storm. We've been through storms before."

"Not like that, child. Not like that. I'm sure it's just a coincidence, though. Pure happenstance that, on the same day a seemingly friendly curandera strikes at your children, a great bloody storm rolls out of the mountains. Tell me, did anything else... odd happen today?"

Odella's chest heaved, dress shifting and twisting. Hir head swam. "These games you play don't interest me! No, nothing else hap-" Shi paused, though, jaw open. Coincidence?

Telkwa's eyebrow raised. "Ah. Not just action and reaction. You're starting to think now."

The coati's eyes narrowed. "Are you helping me or trying to kill me?"

"Eh," the other curandera shrugged. "But you know who I mean now."

"Cambiado," Odella grunted. "He was there. He was here, too. I don't fear him, he's just a wisp, a voice that no-one can hear."

"Not no-one, Odella. Not no-one."

Odella hadn't realized that Cambiado was known to Telkwa, and shi was incensed that it had never occurred to hir. Of course he'd have sought out other followers of the Way. Shi knew shi had not been the first grrl taught by the old spirit, and shi supposed shi wouldn't have been the last, even after shi had banished him. He was a bodiless ghost, but around a curandera he could slowly build a physical presence. After years together in the wastes, he had pulled enough of himself through the Real world to the Seen that the pair had shared much more than just knowledge.

"He was handsome," shi admitted bitterly. Telkwa chuckled, nodding. "But what could he do? It would take him ages with one of my coven to return enough to ever be a threat, and even then... he'd never be a threat to me."

"He can influence more than you'd guess. You've felt his touch... it's like the wind. It's amazing what you can do with a couple breezes in just the right places. In the old days, the very old days, it was said that a butterfly could flap it's wings and on the other side of the world, you would get rain instead of sunshine."

Odella nodded. "What's a butterfly?"

"It doesn't matter," the ermine snapped crossly. "Think... think... think more like a sheep dog. Does the dog grab each sheep one by one and drag it into a circle?"

"No, it just steers, it redirects. One sheep moves, and the rest follow." Odella bared hir teeth. "Cambiado does not steer me!"

"Oh, really? Then why are you here?" The coati opened hir mouth to answer, but Telkwa was focused on the distant horizon, clutching something small to hir chest.. "Tell me. Why did you leave your children alone in such a storm?"

Odella was losing hir patience, but shi noticed that the shrewd curandera was still holding the little ragdoll, clad in a tiny green dress. "He wouldn't," shi breathed, the weight of the outstretched revolver bearing hir numb arm down.

"That was the bargain, Odella. One child, in exchange for all of our lives. Yours, mine, your family's... even your youngest would survive, in all likelihood to a ripe old age."

In the distance, the storm, already burdened with the hellacious energies of the contaminated mountains, had acquired an unnerving blue glow around the fringe, staccato lightning flashes sparkling green. Settled over the toxic, forsaken Foothills, the storm was clearly still building intensity. "It was all to take me away from the kits," shi breathed, eyes wide.

"That storm... not even you could stop that storm, Odella. That's Hell, brought down to Earth."

---

Cambiado walked through the driving hurricane, cloak flapping madly, but the statuesque feline looking wholly unperturbed by the buffeting winds. It reminded him of the blizzards of his youth, something this world had not seen for ages; each twinlking raindrop seemed to possess an inner light, enormous swirls and eddies visible in the turbulent gale. Behind him, the ramshackle house was missing more roof than it retained, caustic deluge pitting and corroding whatever was left.

"Briar, darling," he called, voice somehow carrying over the howling wind, "you know you're just delaying the inevitable. You can come with me, dear. I'm an old friend of your mother's. Surely shi's mentioned your dear old Uncle Cambiado, no?"

He walked through the flattened gardens, row upon row of gourds and vegetables twisted and blackened by the storm. "You know there's no sense in hiding from me. Without my protection, why, you and your family will surely not survive!" His voice was pleasant, soothing, infinitely patient. "You know the corruption, the malignancy that taints these hills, particularly what lies beneath your home. By morning, there will be no sign that you were ever here, love. Not even your lovely bones."

Briar watched the figure through the rain, standing nearly as tall as hir father. Shi huddled wetly against the smooth stone at the base of the Spire, the great jagged spike of stone that loomed over their house. Behind hir, the cave twisted sharply down and to the south, terminating at the yawning Hole. Between hir legs, a river of glowing water flowed out of the potato patch and down into the depths of the cave.

"Yeah, right," shi grunted.

"HE CANNOT SEE YOU," Tea boomed.

"Quiet!" shi whispered hoarsely.

"HE CANNOT HEAR ME."

"How do you know?"

"HE IS NOT HERE," Tea thundered placidly, gesturing with one translucent arm. It nearly filled the cave, far more solid than Briar could ever remember it being.

Briar shivered, brushing the icy and stinging rain off of hir arms. "I'm itchy," shi said softly, scrubbing hir burning paws. "Why can't I hide down in the Hole? Dad's winch is all set up!"

Tea made a noise like a splitting boulder that shi assumed was a snort. "YOU WOULD NOT BE SAFE DOWN THERE. IT IS ONLY YOUR MOTHER'S PROTECTIONS THAT KEEP THE POISONS AND EMISSIONS FROM CUTTING YOUR FAMILY DOWN, AND THOSE PROTECTIONS ARE NOW GONE. WITH THE ENERGY OF THE STORM, YOU WOULD FACE A THREAT DOWN THERE YOU COULD NOT RUN FROM."

"But... but what do I do?" shi whimpered, eyes filling with tears. "I can't leave! I can't stay! I can't go home! I can't go down the hole! What's down there that's worse than up here? What so terrible?"

Tea flashed, blazing so bright that the entire cave was flush with sickly daylight, so bright Briar thought there could be no possible way that the intruder could not have seen. It loomed over hir, growing larger by the moment, forced to hunch over now to fit within the cave. Mouthless face inches from hir ear, it roared, "ME!"

---

"I have to go back," Odella declared, setting hir shoulders, moving to the edge of the butte, unable to take hir eyes from the towering cyclone.

"You'd never be there before morning," Telkwa replied tiredly, stepping through the wreckage that had been hir home. "You can't Walk at night, and you can't Sleepwalk until dawn. If you're no longer of a mind to separate my head from my body, I can make us a spot of tea, if my teapot survived."

Fists shaking, Odella holstered hir revolver. "I could kill you before I leave, witch, but I need my strength. I am going back."

The ermine blinked. "I know you didn't just say what you just said, child." Shi was worried, though, picking hir way through to what remained of hir cottage. "You can't Walk at night."

"Why would you say such a thing?"

"Why would...? I know you're reckless, Odella, reckless and stupid, but you were never the suicidal type! Walk at Night?! It's unthinkable, and don't be so naive as to be pretending you don't know why!"

"I am going back." Odella unclasped hir remaining bandolier, letting it drop. Shi removed hir heavy belt, both revolvers joining their ammunition in the dirt. "I go where I am needed, and now none have needed me more."

Telkwa stood dumbfounded where hir front door had once been. "I take it back. Begone with you, then, and best wishes to your family. Kenyon'll be raising two alone, I'm supposing."

The ermine would swear shi'd only blinked, but in the next instant the full and abundantly impressive shape of Odella filled hir vision, eyes wild and fiery, powerful hand around hir slender neck. "You've just got to keep talking, haven't you, witch?" shi shouted, lifting the elder curandera clear off the ground. "You've just got to keep twisting the knife a little deeper! Go on, taunt me again! See where it gets you! See how long it takes you to hit the flat earth when I toss you off the edge!"

Telkwa gripped the coati's wrist, twisting to breathe, but not striking back. In the growing darkness hir strength was only increasing, but shi knew it was a fool's errand even now. "I did.... what I needed to do... to survive," shi wheezed. "That storm... that storm would scour us both from the Earth, and you... you know it. It is his... creation."

"You betrayed the Way!" Odella shrieked, rattling Telkwa like the ragdoll shi still clutched. "You attacked my family! You bargained with a monster and sacrificed a child that was not yours!"

"Shi... will live," Telkwa gasped. "We all... shall live. There was... no bargain to be made. There was no... choice."

Odella's eyes hardened and Telkwa feared for hir life, but found hirself simply dropped to the splintered, shattered floorboards. "As you wish," Odella spoke flatly, divesting hirself of all other adornments. A knife hidden somewhere beneath hir dress landed in a patch of basil. Another pair of daggers was removed from hir twinned cleavage. "I am leaving you. One way or another, I shall not return to this place. Goodbye, Telkwa. May you live a long, painful, leprotic life."

More thuds and all of hir careful preparations, all of hir supplies were left behind, more than useless where shi must now go. The sky was a darkened bruise above hir, and though hir heart pounded like war drums at the mere thought of what shi would undertake, it was the thoughts of hir family that kept hir feet moving steadily to the edge of the butte. Walking at night. I must be mad. But it's as Telkwa said... There is no choice to be made. No choice at all.

Shi drew the Seen around hir like a cloak, twisting reality in hir hands, allowing hirself to be drawn into that space between worlds. "Here I come, Briar. Hold on for me." The land flickered, pulling hir in...

"Wait!"

A paw slapped down on hir shoulder, tugging hir backwards, wrenching hir out of hir invocation. "That ends it, witch, you DIE now-!"

"Wait!" Telkwa cried again, raising hir hands. "You want to Walk at night! Good! Fine! You'll die, I'm not saying anything's changed! But if you want a chance... just a chance, mind you, and as small a chance as has ever existed... if you want a chance, then let me help."

"You... help?" Odella stuttered incredulously. "Without your interference, we-"

"Yes, yes, it's all my fault," shi waved in annoyance. "But if you're Walking in the dark, you're going to need my help. There's naught that know the shadows as well as me, child. I can ward you. Somewhat. I think. But it's a chance."

They stared at eachother for a long moment. "And this is supposed to make things equal between us."

Telkwa sighed. "No. Nothing will ever make it equal between us. I see that. I know that. But I suppose... I've got to make my peace with the world not being equal, don't I?" Shi reached into hir robe and produced the ragdoll. "Your guns are useless there, but I can help protect."

Odella pondered just sweeping hir former friend off of the butte and wiping the slate clean, the way shi might have done in hir youth. "Your decisions may have doomed us all... and saved us all," shi said softly.

The ermine chuckled grimly. "I've never heard the curandera ever described so well."

---

Briar scuttled on all fours, hands and feet sinking deep into the icy glowing mud that flowed in all directions, keeping low against the sleeting rain. Tea had stayed behind in the cave, insisting that shi leave the valley, but powerless to stop hir from returning to the house. "Bloody invisible friends," shi muttered. "More trouble than they're worth."

Shi wasn't sure when Tea had first appeared in hir life. Shi knew shi had been young, very young, out tending the gardens one fine autumn day. Shi had been pulling weeds when shi heard a voice, a strange voice, singing... not a song, exactly. It had been sonorous and sad, but without words, without even notes. It had just sort of been.

Of course, no-one else had heard it.

Tea wasn't a very good friend. It didn't play games. It didn't like pictures. It wasn't a boy or a girl, and had been very clear on that fact. Half of what it said made no sense to the tiny half-coati, and what half that did make sense only raised further questions that it either could not answer, or would not answer. All shi knew for certain was it lived down in the Hole, in the city below where Kenyon made his living, and it had lived there for a very, very long time. Occasionally it helped hir learn how to see and hear more things hir family didn't notice, except sometimes for hir mother. Briar supposed that meant someday shi would grow up to be a curandera, too, even though hir mother always seemed saddened by that possibility.

"I'll make you proud, mom," shi said to hirself, sneaking through the front door and into the deluged den of their home. "He won't get me. You'll see. I'll save Pueblo, and Kenyon, and save the day."

Shi frowned, pausing near the fireplace. "I wish I had a broadsword, though."

In the near-constant flashes of thunder and lightning, shi saw hir brother and father, prostrate next to the drowned wreckage of the couch. The windows were all gone, most of the roof had blown away, the great wall behind them swaying unsteadily. Shi skittered over to hir brother, shaking his head. "Pueblo! Pueblo, wake up!"

His eyes were open, staring skyward, his body rigid as wood. Shi feard him dead, but his chest rose and fell, his forehead was feverish. "Pueblo?" Shi laid hir ear to his chest, listening to his heart, and feeling... something there. Two somethings. Pueblo was there, his spirit ever sparkling with blue twinkly lights, but something white and cold and hard was also there, like ice...

Hir father was worse off, his breath weak and wet. Shi stroked his muzzle and hir paw came away red and livid in the flashing lightning. There was not much steely white around his spirit, but there didn't need to be; his fierce purple glow was barely detectable. He needed medicine, and a few gentle touched confirmed his broken ribs would need much wrapping.

"Upstairs. The trunk." Shi nodded to hirself, reaching a decision. "I'm sure shi wouldn't mind if I touched it NOW! Not now! This is an emergency!"

Shi stood and took one step towards the staircase, or what remained of it, and walked nose-first into the huge, cloaked figure. A powerful paw fell gently but with iron resolve onto hir shoulder, and the majestic black-and-white lion's face broke into a grin.

"There you are, you little scamp!" he said jovially. "Just my luck! Come, my dear. We have to keep you... safe."

---

Odella did not walk in this place. Walking would be folly, even more so than actually attempting to cross the Land Above at night. Shi ran on black sands in a linen dress of white, keeping hir eyes locked on the impossible mountain ahead of hir, so far ahead of hir.

Shi knew what lay down in the Hole. Kenyon had told hir many times, describing with wild wonder the sights and splendors of the realm that knew no sunlight, illuminated only by his handful of lamps and whatever ancient, decrepit devices he found that could pierce the darkness. In days gone by, before their lives had been blessed by the kits, shi had attempted the trip down the winch with him.

Some nights, shi still woke up screaming.

Above The Land, at night, the Foothills were gone. There was no mound of molten, tumorous stone rising out of the plain. At first shi had been confused, horrified that perhaps shi had been too late and that unnatural storm had indeed removed it from the land, but as shi ran, hours blending into endless hours, the truth was far more insidious.

It was a ghostly landscape, towers of green glass reaching skyward, hundreds of them. Shafts of chartreuse light stabbed skyward, piercing the churning, roiling tumult of the storm. The vile clouds reminding the experienced curandera of coils of intestines spilling forth from a wounded man. Somewhere there, between the city of the dead and thoat viscous gloom, lay hir home.

Shi ran, for the sands sucked at hir feet.

Shi kicked up hir heels, for bones and claws and slimy things sought hir flesh from beneath the surface.

Shi sang loudly, any song shi could think of, to drown out the ghastly wails and rattles and tempting, sibilant screeches of the undead.

Shi kept hir eyes locked on dead city, to keep hir stomach from lurching at sight of the clouds, or the flaming sky, or the moon... oh, gods, the moon...

And in hir minds eye, always the vision of Briar. Sweet, young, innocent, wise beyond hir years. Odella always wanted more for hir youngest than the life of a curandera. A normal life. A peaceful life.

A taloned grip seized hir ankle, bringing hir down with a cry. The iciness of the void numbed hir paw, and shi thrashed wildly. "You will not stop me!" shi cried. Clutched in one hand was the talisman that Telkwa had given hir, and shi flailed madly at the reptilian paw. The grip tightened, pulling hir foot beneath the sand, even as the beast tried to pull itself out. Gleaming silver teeth appeared, teeth far too long for any maw...

Shi hauled back and struck it again, knocking out several of those teeth and weakening it enough for hir to pull free. Trailing blood, impossibly bright on the black sands, shi scrambled to hir feet, hastened by terror.

"Briar's such a lovely grrl," shi sang the song hir youngest had devised one long wagon ride, hopelessly off-key, "the likes you've never seen! Shi pulls the weeds, and does the deeds that keeps the gardens green! Shi is the best and ever blessed, no-one could ever ask, for someone better or smarter or cuter to complete this dreary task!" There were more verses to this song, endless verses, for hir daughter did enjoy to rhyme, but Odella could never remember them all.

On shi ran, hunger gnawing at hir insides, sleeplessness pounding behind hir eyes. Shi clutched the talisman to hir bosom, feeling it's energies ebbing away. There was only so much that could be done, only so much that could be brought into the Land Above before it was eroded away, as all things were. The sun, sometimes, kept the decay at bay, but at night... at night...

Odella dared not glance up. One look at that moon had been enough for a lifetime.

Tears streamed down hir face, hir songs punctuated by sobs of despair. The black sand stretched off forever in all directions. Shi could run forever. Time would have no meaning here, and as long as shi persisted, shi would never tire. Shi would run until the flesh fell from hir bones, until hir bones themselves were mere memories, and still shi would run.

Was the dead city closer? Shi did not know. It was vast, visible below the ground as well as above it, clouds scraping the tops of those towers.

Hir protections fading, shi raced faster, legs beating at the sands.

"Briar... wait for me... wait for me.."

---

Cambiado walked up the nearly obliterated path, holding Briar's paw.

"It will be a grand life!" he explained, sweeping his arm majestically. The storm had steepened to madness, boulders crumbling away from the lip of the valley and crashing through the mud around them. "There's so much to see, so much more than the endless wastelands of desert and dust. So much to learn, so much to read! Do you like to read, young Briar?"

"Stuff it."

"Oh, why would you speak to me so? I'm rescuing you! Look around you! Your homestead... why, it's virtually all gone!"

All around them, the glowing rain ate away at the soft sandstone, turning it to flowing silt. When the thunder boomed and the lightning cracked, shi could see hir home, or what remained of it, and there was less each time. The gardens, hir gardens, were but a memory. Black water gouted high into the air from the spring, the uppermost sprays briefly catching fire. Near Cambiado, though, the rain was cool, clear, refreshing. Shi had strayed once, and nearly burned hir tail clean off.

"That was your fault," shi spat, kicking at his leg and wincing when shi connected. "My brother! My father! They're still in the house!"

"They'll recover, all in due time," the powerfully-built lion said soothingly, patting hir on the head. "And, I suppose, they'll rebuild. Or not. Maybe they'll move on. Without Odella here, it may never become what it once was."

"My mother will come for me!"

"Really? Explain the logic underlying that conclusion. Rather than protect you on this night, and if you'll pardon my saying so it really does look like you'd have needed some protection, shi abandoned you to go see another curandera about your sister, who is currently enjoying a hot cocoa at the Gossamer Scarf because it never occurred to hir that she might not have actually been kidnapped at all." He leaned down close, his expression pure, beatific love. "Does that sound like parenting to you?"

Briar slapped him whip-fast, but his smile never changed.

"You will change your tune in time, young Briar. Who knows? Maybe, someday, we'll come visit again. See how everyone's doing. Would you like that? If your mother returns, that is. Walking Above The Land, at night... has shi ever explained what that's like?"

"Let me go!"

"No, dear, we're past that now." Cambiado just sighed. "Fortunately, we've got lots of time work through these little difficulties. A curandera lives for a long time. A very long time, yes. And with you, young Briar, I will once again be strong, and my strength will be your strength. So much I can teach you. So much I know you'll like to be taught."

A crack pierced the night, and both turned to watch the tip of the spire, finally work through, tumble away and crash into the skeletal remains of hir former house. Chimney bricks scattered like seeds in the wind, ripples passing through the mud at their feet. Briar screamed, digging in with hir feet, scrambling towards the house but anchored by the lion's grip as surely as if he were made of iron.

"Oh, dear," Cambiado said blandly, putting a heavy paw to his short muzzle. "They really don't build them the way they used to, do they? Come, Briar. There's nothing here for you now."

He started to walk again, pulling hir along, hir feet dragging furrows in the mud that were quickly swallowed up. "My mother will come for me," shi said again, weakly. "There's nothing that can stop hir. Shi vanquishes evil... shi rides midnight like a horse... shi plunged hir hands into lava..."

The lion laughed. "Where did you hear such tales? My dear, your mother was a drunken, lecherous, brawling bitch, who caused more terror to these lands than any storm, than any monster. There was a collective sigh of relief when shi retreated to these Foothills. If shi vanquished evil, it was only because shi'd passed out!"

"My mother... will come... for me..."

"No, dear. At this late of an hour, I fear your mother is dead."

Briar's eyes grew wide, and shi howled into the night. Shi kicked and thrashed, biting and clawing, but shi might as well have tried to halt an avalanche. Shi could see his spirit limning his body, white as bone and as cold as ice, and shi knew he was not flesh, not of this world. The green speckles of the rain swirled around him, bent to his will, gave him strength beyond mortal ken.

But that didn't stop a seven year old from fighting like the Devil hirself.

Near the crest of the valley, where the stoned protruded like withered teeth from the mud, the wind rose in a high, barbed keen. Briar clapped hir free hand over hir ear, pressing hir other to Cambiado's leg in an attempt to drown it out. Shi hadn't imagined the storm could ever get worse, but the nightmare wailing found new depths with which to plumb hir terror.

The lion, though, cocked his head, listening. "Hmm. That... is interesting."

"What is it?" Briar sobbed, already hating hirself for ever asking anything of hir captor.

"If I had to guess, I would say... madness personified. My, my," he mused, "I never thought you had it in you."

The cry grew louder, so loud Briar could no longer hear the storm, could no longer even hear hir own fears. There was only the screaming, a sound of pain and loss that shi couldn't imagine...

... and tumbling to the mud at the lip of the valley, at their very feet, the scream breaking off into silence like quenched cast iron, was Odella.

Hir dress was more torn than intact, blood stains quickly merging with the brackish mire. Hir hat was gone, hir weapons gone. Shi hunched on all fours, body shaking, and Briar realized with a stab of grief that hir mother, Odella, the great curandera, was crying.

"MOM!" shi screamed, rushing forwards jerked to a painful stop by Cambiado.

Choking for air, eyes huge and bloodshot, Odella looked up and saw them, saw them both. For a brief moment, hir lips turned up in a smile, but that moment was broken when the statuesque lion threw back his head and laughed.

"My word!" he roared. "You did it! By all the stars, I really never thought you'd have done it! Oh, I knew you'd try, that was a given, but... at night! They'll tell this tale for centuries, they will! Oh, how many acolytes will try what you've done, I wonder!" He laughed even harder, pulling Briar up as though shi weighed nothing, holding hir high.

"Give... give me..." Odella coughed, painfully getting to one knee.

"Look at you! You've got no strength left in you, have you? Go on, stand! Try me!" Briar thrashed like a wet cat, but it was of no use. The kit watched as the caustic rain soaked hir mother to the bone, the already tattered dress singeing and smoking. Around Cambiado the water was pure and almost placid, but outside of their little bubble it was murderous.

Odella lunged to hir feet, fist drawn back, poised to strike. Briar could see hir mother's will working the Way, working the magic, but as though it were no more bothersome than a moth, Cambiado struck hir down again, backhanded, without looking. He continued to chuckle, stepping back to observe the coati collapse once more.

"There's the Odella I remember," he grinned. "Impulsive. Brash. Spoiling for a fight, heedless of the consequences. Thinking is for quitters, you once told me, and not to put too fine a point on it, I've never known you to quit."

He leaned down, Briar screaming for hir mother to stand. "You can't win," he said calmly. "Not here, not now. This is not your seat of power anymore... it's mine." The powerfully-built, youthful feline straightened, inhaling as though enjoying a brisk morning walk. "Did you know, there's more than one way for me to draw my presence into your world? Curandera are weak points in the fabric of reality, where life and death, the Real and the Seen cross over, but in the old days, before the world ended, our ancestors found their own methods."

He spread his arms, taking in the ruins of the valley, Briar falling into the muck. "Behold, the legacy of their weapons! They had devices that could erase entire cities in a blink, and they used them, oh mercy yes, did they ever use them. The weapons are gone, but their energies live on forever!" He laughed again, a hint of manic tension tingeing his voice. "This storm holds the power of those weapons. It took me years to craft it, years for it to draw the energy from the poisoned rocks of the mountains where the ancients buried their mistakes, and now... now it will carry on, south and west, or maybe east. It's really out of my hands now. Oh, and don't worry about Telkwa... I have a feeling that this tempest will, ah, erase any debts the two of you might have."

Odella gained hir feet once again, scalded fur sticking through hir dress. Cambiado stared at hir openly, lewdly, up and down. "Mmmm, there is the grrl I've missed," he sneered, kneeling and plucking Briar from the ooze. "Do you think your daughter will take after you in those respects? It would be a shame for such lovely traits to skip a generation..."

The curandera stood more calmly now, mud dripping from hir talisman. "I... I won't let you take hir," shi wheezed. "I walked through Hell this night. This might no longer be a place of power for me, but there are other sources, Cambiado, that you've never suspected."

Arm trembling, shi lifted the little ragdoll, flecks of green barely visible. "You carried me through the darkness, baby," Odella said unevenly, smiling reassuringly at hir daughter. "You saved me. The black sands... the fire in the sky... and you carried me." Shi sniffed. "My brave little grrl."

"Mom," Briar wailed, arms outstretched. Odella reached out to hir, but Cambiado yanked hir back, slapping the curandera's hands aside.

"That's enough of that," he said crossly. "Go on, Odella. I can last all night. The poisons around us can't harm me, and as long as shi doesn't stray, it won't harm your daughter. But it will wear you down, as surely as it's wearing down these rocks. As surely as it wiped your homestead away. As surely as your son and your husband... well, it's not nice to dwell on the negative, is it?"

Odella had seen the devastation of the bowl valley, but had told hirself not to leap to conclusions, to rely on facts rather than fear. When shi'd had Briar back, shi decided, shi would investigate the valley, shi would rescue Kenyon and Pueblo, and then go get Zora, and they would be a family again. The house was in ruins, the spire had toppled, the men in hir family nowhere to be seen.

But shi still had hir strength. Shi still had something Cambiado couldn't take from hir.

Picturing hir family in hir mind, feeling the love shi had felt when they were growing within hir, when they were born, when they hugged hir tight at night and when they whispered to hir that they loved hir more, shi held up the ragdoll and summoned all of the suppressed anger, all of the rage and pain that shi had never let hir family see. In hir minds eye, shi focused on hir old mentor, building layer upon invisible layer of protection around hir daughter, cocooning hir, insulating hir, and for the first time in years, shi prayed.

The bolt of lightning that struck seemed to split the world in two.

---

Hir first thought, when thoughts returned to hir, was to wonder if perhaps hir family wouldn't have been better off if the bolt had incinerated hir, too.

Hir second thought was to wonder why the afterlife involved to much shaking and screaming.

Shi painfully opened hir eyes and saw the huge, scared face of Briar, the tiny half-coati shaking hir by the shoulders and shouting to be heard over the storm. "Mommy, wake up, please! You're stronger than lightning, Mommy, the stories said so! Wake up! Please!"

Fur standing up on end, several patches charred and still smoking, Odella wondered if there was any part of hir body that was left to be injured. Shi sat up with agonized care, feeling flecks of blackened hair being washed away by the pounding rain. "I'm... ok?" shi said, more than a little surprised. Funny, I thought that would have incinerated me...

Briar squeaked and leapt, arms squeezed so tightly around Odella's neck that the little grrl was supported almost entirely by the curandera's impossibly proud bosom. "Eeeeeeeeeee!" shi squealed, legs kicking wildly. "You came! I knew you would! He didn't believe me! I didn't believe me for a little, but he definitely didn't! You showed him! Wow! Oh my gosh, we have to go get Pueblo and Kenyon, they were in the house when the rock fell on it, but I think it fell towards the back, come on, stand up, stand up, you're getting all muddy, come on!"

Odella was awkwardly pulled to hir feet, trying not to slip in the mud and trying to keep Briar from sending them both sprawling. Where Cambiado had been standing a moment before there was a steep-sided, blackened crater that was quickly being washed away. "Are you ok?" Odella mumbled, staggering to the side in the turbulent wind. Shi looked down at hir other hand where shi had been clutching the ragdoll, and found only a small, wet smudge of black on hir paw.

"Yeah! That was awesome! There was a flash, and it was so loud I could feel it in my butt, and then I was in the crater and that guy was gone! Come on, we have to get Daddy and Pueblo!" Briar was alternating between mindless glee and nervous panic. "You'll have to show me how to do that when I get older!"

"Mmmbbrrg," shi groaned, rubbing hir forehead. "We'll talk about it."

Half a dozen steps down the hill, the stinging pain of the biting deluge managed to work it's way through the shock and adrenaline. Briar sought shelter beneath Odella's tattered sleeves, hugging hir mother's wide hips and trying to avoid hir bruised, tender swells. "W-w-we should get them, and hide in the cave," shi chattered, the heat of the moment wearing off.

Odella looked towards the cave, and shi could see the greenish glow emanating from it's depths. Shi shuddered, but nodded. "It might be safest," shi agreed.

"That is a matter of some disagreement," came the lion's smooth, melodious voice.

The curandera spun around, nearly sending Briar sprawling. Shi shoved the tiny herm behind hir protectively, reflexively grasping for the guns that shi no longer possessed. Shi wanted to scream something defiant, shi wanted to order him out of hir realm or shi would banish him again, shi wanted to burst into tears. Hir jaw worked, teeth gnashing, but no sound came out.

Cambiado stood proud and strong, brushing a nonexistent fleck of dust from his dry, wholly undamaged cloak. "That was, I will grudgingly admit, impressive. And unexpected. You've learned something on your own, at least! Bravo," he grinned, clapping slowly. "I won't underestimate you a second time. I will, however, be taking what's mine now."

Odella stumbled backwards, pushing Briar down the hill. "Run!" shi snapped. "Get to the boys!"

The feline just sighed, rolling his eyes as though dealing with a pushy door-to-door salesman. "This really is just delaying the inevitable, my love," he purred. "Surely Telkwa enlightened you to our little arrangement, and even someone as thick as you has to have put the pieces together by now. Either I'm leaving here with Briar, or... you know, I don't have any other way to end that sentence."

Briar charged down the hill, splashing and slipping through the mud. Odella could hear hir shouting something, but over the cacophony of the storm shi couldn't make it out. Shi could see, though, with a quick glance over hir shoulder, that hir daughter was heading not for the house, but for the cave. Oh, gods, no!

"Hmm?" Cambiado walked forwards, brusquely shouldering Odella out of the way. "Oh, the cave? Yes, that will be interesting. It's quite remarkable down there, though I can understand why it might not be your cup of tea. You always were sensitive to the dead, my lovely."

Shi lashed out, driving hir fist into his back, throwing together the energies for banishment once again but scraping the bedrock of what shi was capable of. Even with the talisman he survived! How?! Why?!

Cambiado absorbed the blow with a meaty thud, not even breaking stride. "That's the last time I'm going to allow you to do that," he said tiredly. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you? You really haven't."

Choking back a cry of despair, one that made hir Walk at night seem almost pleasant, shi darted forwards to get between the lion and the cave, but was stopped mid-stride with his powerful hand around hir neck. He hoisted hir effortlessly into the air, hir feet dangling uselessly above the mud.

"I'm not here because of your presence, my darling," he said, muzzle pulled back to reveal gleaming fangs. "I'm not dependent on you, and I can't be dispersed. I know you can feel the radiation in the Foothills... that was why you abandoned me, to follow that stupid fox. You knew the poison was in the rocks, the water, the air, and I'd have followed but for your surprisingly skill with wards."

He pulled hir closer, pressing his body against hirs in a more than familar fashion, his other paw moving over hir outlandish curves. His eyes half-lidded and he licked his lips. "I am the storm," he whispered into hir ear. "You can't imagine what this feels like. I am the rain. I am the wind. I can feel the rocks melting beneath my breath, the gardens dissolving beneath my feet. The ancients were unwise with their power and it led to their ultimate ruin, but their legacy as given me new life."

Cambiado licked hir ear, and shi struck out at him with everything shi had, but shi might as well have tried to move a mountain with a flyswatter. Hir knuckles crunched with each blow, pain lancing up hir arms. "And when the storm eventually fades, I will have your daughter, and unlike hir mother, I know shi'll listen."

Contemptuously, he tossed hir aside as one would discard an apple core. Odella landed hard on hir back, knocking the breath from hir lungs. Shi struggled to sit up, but hir limbs were not obeying hir commands. Mud filled hir ears, and hir chest constricted as shi futilely tried to draw breath. Briar, don't go down the Hole! Run! Just run! Get out of the storm!

A heavy clawed paw slammed down on hir stomach. Shi screeched into the night, trying to roll away.

The lion leaned over his bent knee, smiling down at the prostrate coati. "Shi'll be a good listener, because shi's going to learn, quickly, what happens when shi doesn't listen. Get them when they're young, and there's no limit to what you can achieve. That was my mistake with you. I see that now. You never listened. You just took what you wanted. That's no way for a lady to act."

One thought lingered atop hir anguished mind. "I never... listened..." shi wept. "I never listened... to anyone else. To my conscience. To the Way. I thought I could control... everything..."

Cambiado nodded. "Good! You're learning! A little bit too late, but you're learning. Tell me, though..." He bent down further, grinding his foot into hir gut and pushing hir deeper into the soggy earth, waves of mud washing over hir. His face was a rictus of manic glee. "Listen. Listen well. What do you hear now?"

Peals of thunder split the sky. The downpour lashed at the mud like a tumbling landslide. The wind reminded hir of the raging fire that had ripped through Bayside's cornfields the previous summer, dry stalks exploding where they stood. In hir desperation shi reached out with hir senses, questing for any sign of hir husband, hir son, the Way, anything at all.

"I'm sorry," shi whimpered. "Briar... I'm so sorry..."

"DO NOT BE SORRY."

"You should be," Cambiado said scornfully. "At this late, perhaps final moment of your life, you should be."

Odella's eyes flew open. "What-" shi gasped, feeling the lion's claws extending, piercing hir flesh.

"DO NOT TALK," the voice rumbled in hir mind. "YOU MUST LISTEN. BRIAR IS GOING TO GO DOWN TO THE CITY BELOW. YOU MUST STOP HIR.."

"How-"

"DO NOT TALK! YOU MUST STOP HIR, AND YOU MUST STOP THIS STORM. THE POTENCY OF THE ANCIENT WEAPONS IS NOT MAGICAL. IT IS NOT A PART OF THE REAL WORLD, AS YOU CALL IT. IT IS ENERGY. IT IS MATTER. IT IS SOMETHING THAT YOU CAN CONTROL."

The mud reached hir muzzle, washing over hir eyes. Shi dug at the lion's leg madly, taking what shi believed to be hir final breath, feeling hirself being driven down, down, into hir grave.

Help me!

"THEN LISTEN."

In hir mind's eye shi saw... shi didn't know what they were. Diagrams, spinning models, particles whizzing around in the void. Shi felt as though knowledge was being imprinted directly onto hir brain, with understanding coming afterwards and with great resistance. They're small! They can't be... that's what everything is made of? Everything?

The diagrams became more and more complex, convoluted, thousands of the tiny motes revolving around eachother, and soon tens of thousands. One of them exploded, sending motes out in all directions, and they moved not in straight lines, but in curves and waves and angles that shi could not predict, but which, in their own way, made sense.

The motes struck other constructs, scattering their components, which in turn struck more... and more...

"THIS IS THE SECRET OF THE ANCIENT WEAPONS, CURANDERA, AND THIS IS THE SECRET OF THE STORM.."

Cambiado's foot twisted side to side, digging fresh bloody furrows into hir flesh. Silence enveloped hir, and even the pain of those wounds faded, everything replaced by the icy, calming grip of the mire.

"YOU DO NOT NEED TO CONTROL THE STORM. YOU NEED TO BE THE CATALYST OF CHANGE."

Odella dispassionately regarded hir situation, mildly taken aback by hir serenity. Already shi was losing hir grasp over what the voice had told hir, but there was enough for hir to work with. The storm around hir was too large to grasp, far too large to influence, but shi dove down into the raindrops themselves, between the smallest iotas of water, towards the source of that green glow...

Shi visualized a field of matchsticks, endlessly stretching off into all directions...

"SET ME FREE."

Shi struck a single match...

"LET ME LOOSE."

And dropped it..

"I WILL MAKE AMENDS."

And ran...

Cambiado blinked. "What-"

---

The people of Bayside slept fitfully, the fringes of the storm whistling through walls never designed to keep out rain. Most of them had never even experienced rain, and believed that the concept was a joke being played on them by those in the know. Zora was curled up in Melinda's bed, the petite pup snoring gently with one arm around the half-fox. Shi had offered to sleep on the ground, but Zora had tearfully insisted.

The pitch of the storm changed, becoming slower, more sombre. Zora pushed Melinda's arm aside and sat up, not having slept a wink since her strange reappearance. Rico and Deputy Cleophus had agreed to escort her home in the morning, wisely not wanting to attempt the Foothills in a storm. She walked over to the room's sole window, staring out at the tumultuous, flashing mound of clouds on the horizon.

"Mom?" she asked sleepily.

All at once, the lightning stopped. The thunder stopped. The roiling clouds stilled, invisible in the moonless, starless night. She waved her hand in front of her face, and saw nothing.

"Mommy?"

The flash seared her eyes and she fell backwards, arms raised against the blinding light. Melinda howled in shock, clapping hir hands to hir face, the unnatural brilliance jerking hir from sleep. Screams and cries of alarm erupted from every corner of Bayside, the incalculable radiance penetrating to the darkest basement.

"Zora!"

"Melinda!"

"Where are you?!"

"I don't know!"

Melinda stumbled towards the window, trying to blink away the purple spots that seemed burnt onto hir vision. Shi saw the curandera's daughter slumped on the ground, the whole room lit as bright as day. The young acolyte kneeled, wrapping hir arms around Zora and hugging hir tight, preparing to carry her back to bed.

The world leapt beneath hir feet, the modest wooden house shaking like a box tumbling down stairs. The roar that filled the room was unlike any shi had ever heard. Even the grain silo blast that had flattened three farm houses several years earlier had been as nothing by comparison.

Clutching each other, breathing hard, Melinda and Zora waited out the blast. It felt like hours, but mere seconds passed before the light dimmed to a hellish orange glow, and the rumbling faded into the distance like a stampede in the night.

"What... what..." Zora mewled, over and over.

Melinda recovered hir senses, looked out the window and immediately regretted it. Shi gasped in awe, and Zora followed hir gaze.

With a wet, defeated sound, Zora fainted.

---

Telkwa sat on the only rainbarrel to have survived Odella's visit, eyes fixed on the distant hurricane. Shi fiddled restlessly with the other pink-clad ragdoll, wondering when, if ever, the coati would reach hir destination. Walking Above The Land was imprecise at best. Shi could already be there, shi might not make it for another hour, and as was far more likely, shi might never make it there.

Hir observations left no other conclusion, though. and the storm was definitely still heading towards hir butte. It would be there by morning. Shi was refining hir mental list of what to bring with hir, knowing that hir home of nearly two centuries would not survive.

"I'm sorry, Dell," shi sighed, blinking away a tear. "Not much good it will do me now. Maybe you had the right idea, all along."

At this distance, the incandescent eruption reminded hir of the fireworks that Kenyon had brought hir some Crimbo past, when young Pueblo had decided to test them out by tossing them in hir fireplace. They had put the flames out and had a good laugh, but the half-coati youth hadn't sat down for a week after his mother had gotten through with him.

It was only the knowledge of the space that separated their homes that lent the bedazzling display a sense of scale, and the experienced curandera's heart skipped a beat. In the span of one breath the storm was transformed into a single, ever-growing flame, mushroom-shaped and reaching skyward.

"Hell," shi gasped, clutching the ragdoll to hir thin chest for protection. "Shi is risen."

When the shockwave reached hir home, it was barely potent enough to rattle the handful of teacups shi had managed to salvage, but the sheer breadth and depth swayed the immense bygone tower. With an almost musical chorus of bolts finally reaching their ultimate capacity, it surrendered to the will of gravity and crumpled gratefully to the ground.

---

Epilogue

The sky was steely blue, the scattered, scudding aftermath of the maelstrom dotting the western horizon. The mid-morning sun was burning off the ground fog, the tumultuous criss-crossing rivers of mud slowly hardening. A small fire crackled in what remained of the formerly grand fireplace, and the only pot not reduced to a fine rusty paste bubbled merrily away next to it.

"I can't believe that all that survived were the ingredients for chili," Odella muttered, sitting on the remains of the spire stone. "I'm starting to think it's a conspiracy."

Kenyon, sprawled out on the paper-thin remains of the couch, clapped his hand to his cheek in shock. "I can't believe my own wife would accuse me of such a dastardly deed," he rasped, sipping from a hollowed out gourd. "Oh, woe is me, and... ow. Actually, that's the truth, I've got some serious woe over here."

"Stop scratching at it, you'll never heal!" shi snapped lovingly, moving away from the hearth to check on his many, many bandages. When shi'd found them, after the blast, Kenyon had been laying on top of Pueblo, most of his fur burnt away, more broken bones than intact. The falling spire had completely separated the roof from the rest of the house, and that had also landed on the pair of them. Quite fortuitous, really.

"But it itches!" he moaned, wriggling weakly. "Don't you have any... anything? For it?"

"My trunk is somewhere in the back forty."

"You can't go get it?"

"The back forty is currently underground."

".... ah."

Pueblo emerged from the excavation that was their cellar, nearly a uniform beige in color of dried-on clay. He dropped another crate down next to the hearth, dropped his rump onto it and reached for the chili. "Taking... break..." he panted. "Lifting... hard..."

"Hard? But you have to bring the wagon back from town! You assured me you were strong enough," Odella said reproachfully, refilling Kenyon's gourd. One rainbarrel had survived the catastrophe uncontaminated, but it was nearly half empty from the morning's exertions. Shi knew shi had to get to restoring the spring, but there were so many other things on hir mind right now. "Briar, any word?"

Briar shook hir head. "Nothing yet, Mommy," shi piped from hir lookout tower, which was the surprisingly sturdy portion of the staircaise that remained upright. "I'll tell you! Stop asking!"

"All right, all right," the curandera laughed. "You will say thank you again, won't you?"

"Yeah, if you want me to! Tea says you don't need to thank it!"

Pueblo looked up, swallowing a mouthful. "So... I want to be clear on this," he whispered to his mother when shi came back to the hearth. "Shi really does have an invisible friend? Like, a real one?"

"Invisible is a simple way of putting it," Odella said with a nod. "He... it, I guess, was a big help last night."

The lip of the valley was blackened and charred all the way around, but the soot stopped only a few feet down. Odella wasn't entirely sure what had happened when shi had struck that match, when shi had started the reaction that Tea had shown to hir, but once the ball had been rolling, the mysterious entity had been in charge. For miles in all directions the molten, twisted mounds of the Foothills had been flattened, toppled or otherwise had given up their quest to reach skyward.

Of Cambiado, the only trace was a vaguely four-limbed shape of black volcanic-seeming glass that was, inch by inch, sinking into the mud near the spring.

"And it lives down in the Hole?"

Odella scratched hir chin. "I'm a little unclear on that, but... yeah. It's responsible for down there, you could say. It doesn't mind you and your father down there, but me and Briar are... the wrong sorts of people."

"Why?"

"Oh, eat your chili. Save some for your father, though."

Shi stood up and stretched, hir makeshift robes tenting out around hir. Hir dress had been more scandalous than hir few items of lingerie, none of which had made it through the storm, but the spare drapes in the cellar and a scrounged length of rope were serving admirably. Shi amended hir mental shopping list, already several pages long, to include some more supportive undergarments, some sort of happy medium between hir old travelling leathers and the familiar linen dress.

Hir hand shot out behind hir, a small pebble smacking into hir palm. "That, young lady, is hardly a game for breakfast time."

"Tea says they're coming!" Briar called. "I just wanted to see if you could catch it!"

Odella's spun to face where the trail out of the valley had once lay. "How far?"

Briar paused, listening to the air. "I'm not sure, Tea's not good with distances. Something about frames of reference. Close? Ish?"

"Very helpful, thank you. Pueblo, guard your father. Kenyon, guard the couch. Briar, please stop being kidnapped."

"It was just ONCE!"

Odella turned away from them to hide hir smile, starting up the mucky incline. "Once is too many, young woman. It's unseemly."

The day was warming up, and the view from higher up the valley made it clear just how much work lay ahead of them. Of the gardens there was no trace, but a few exploratory prods confirmed that viable seedlings were still there, below the mud. The house was a few standing walls, one inexplicably upright door, and half of a chimney. Kenyon assured hir that when he regained his strength he'd be down the Hole like a shot with farming equipment on his mind. For the time being, he could only bend three of his fingers without whimpering, so the couch had become his permanent home.

Near the lip of the valley, where the rocks still smoked and crackled from the apocalyptic blast of heat, a huge hat hove into view. A few more steps and Deputy Cleophus' torso hove into view, the massive mule gripping a thick rope and sweating profusely. "M... morning... ma... ma... ma'am," he wheezed.

Behind him, each gripping that rope, were a dozen Bayside residents hauling a very familiar wagon loaded down with crates, sacks, wrapped bundles, and one extremely anxious nine-year old.

"MOMMY!" the cry reverberated back and forth around the valley, and the weary wagon-train broke into smiles. Zora took two running leaps off of the luggage, a third step from Rico's shoulder, and landed like a fuzzy little missile in hir mother's arms.

Odella wanted to apologize to Zora, promise shi'd never leave her again, tell her just how much shi loved her, but all shi could manage was a joyful sob and burying hir face in hir daughter's neck. Zora seemed to be talking enough for the both of them, but as she was speaking into her mother's immensely broad bosom, it would remain unheard.

A long minute later, and the Deputy cleared his throat. "We, ah... found her in the... the storage room-"

Odella waved away his protests without looking. "Yes, yes, I know, it's... it's all right. Thank you. Thank you for bringing her back to me." Shi sniffled, blinking away hir tears. "And the wagon! You shouldn't have, really, I could have come and gotten it-"

The events of the previous night were taking some time to absorb, but some of the lessons would not be forgotten. These people, fully a dozen men and women with families and responsibilities, had braved the Foothills to return hir daughter. Shi simply smiled, and bowed slightly. "Thank you again, for all of your help. I... needed it."

The Baysiders grinned again, taking up the slack and dragging the wagon over the lip and guiding it down to the remains of their home.

"I don't suppose you can explain what the storm and, uhm... everything after the storm was all about, can you?" Rico asked, shuffling along next to the curandera and hir daughter.

Odella grinned. "Come, all of you can come sit by the fire. I will need to cleanse you of the toxins you've picked up on your trip, and if you'll stay, I'll tell you what I can." Shi glanced at the goods in the back of the wagon and sighed with relief. "And if someone can cook something that isn't chili, I would be ever so grateful."

Clutching Zora tightly, shi walked back to hir family, wondering just what sort of thank-you gift shi could put together for Tea.