Two Gun Witch by Bishop O'Connell

Author:Bishop O'Connell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books

Chapter Seventeen

I don’t care,” Talen said. “Ain’t no way in any of the nine hells I’m stepping foot on a dwarven vessel. I’d sooner dig and fill my own grave.”

“It’s the only real option,” Wilfred said, yet again.

His patience, which Talen had always thought near eternal, had started to wear at the edges. He’d been countering every argument for the last hour with that same line. It being true only served to frustrate Talen all the more.

“Then you two go,” she said. “I’ll take Gaoth and meet you in Chicago. We’ll make good time on our own. We could be there in a couple weeks, maybe less.” She’d used this argument before too, but she wasn’t giving in.

“Fine,” Wilfred said. “If that’s what you want.”

Talen opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. She narrowed her eyes and nodded skeptically at him. “Good.”

“Really?” Margaret asked in a low tone, clearly suspicious as well.

“Sure,” Wilfred said. “We’ll have plenty of time to sort this business out and meet her on our way back south.”

“Like hell!” Talen said. “You got no idea what kind of trouble might be waiting for you. What if the Red Right Hand shows up?”

“We’ll manage,” Wilfred said, his tone genial, and his patience exhausted. “You go on and do what you feel is right. We’ll do the same, which means taking the airship.” He turned to Margaret.

She nodded, unsure.

Talen swore under her breath. “I can’t believe you expect me to trust a dwarf.”

“I don’t,” Wilfred said, turning and meeting her eyes. “I expect you to trust me.”

Talen tried to speak but she couldn’t think of any words. What could she say that would counter that simple statement?

“You go on and decide what you’re doing,” Wilfred said. “I’m going to reach out to see when and where my friend can collect us.” He stood, went to his horse, and began untying something from the pack.

Talen’s stomach knotted at the idea of floating through the air at the mercy of a dwarf. “Do you trust him?”

“I do,” Wilfred said. “And he earned it several times over. I ain’t met no other dwarves, but this one has put himself in danger when there weren’t no reason to do so.”

Talen sighed. “You got any notion what you’re asking of me?”

“Likely not,” Wilfred said. He removed a leather-covered box from his horse’s pack, returned to sit next to her, and set the box on his lap. “I imagine it’d be like you asking me to trust some southern aristocrat. And I would, if you were wondering.”

Talen half smiled. “Only ‘cause you know how I feel about most humans.”

Wilfred smiled back. “I do not deny that would play a part.”

“Isn’t it possible he isn’t like other dwarves?” Margaret asked.

Talen glanced her way.

Margaret’s face scrunched up. “You don’t care much for humans either, but there are a couple of us sitting here you seem to trust.”

Talen put her face in her hands and let out a long breath. The anger in her had lost its heat, but the unease knotting her insides hadn’t let up at all.

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