Native Wind Page 22

  “McNair, are you all right?” Charlie rushed over to him.

  “Help me inside the house,” he ordered as he staggered the first step away from the construct.

  “Somebody give me a hand,” Charlie called.

  “I’ll go,” Trey offered and headed toward them before anyone else could react.

  Dabinshire opened the door as they approached the steps. “What is going on out here?”

  “McNair’s hurt,” Charlie said. “He wanted to be brought into the house.”

  “Of course.” Dabinshire held the door open. “Bring him into the room next to my office. Justin, what happened?”

  “That injun from the hotel. He had the first of my creations with him,” he mumbled. “Had to destroy it. But the injun attacked me. The sheriff and some woman shot at me too. Had to go to ground.”

  “Damn,” the rancher said. “Did they know it was you using the suit?”

  They maneuvered McNair from the granite tile floor into the richly carpeted room. Dabinshire lit the gaslight next to the bed.

  “My head sticks out above the shoulders. Yeah, I think they realized it was me. The damned injun does, anyway. He’s the one that scratched me up so bad. I don’t know which one managed to shoot me.” They started to lay him down on the bed, and he cried out. Fresh blood poured out of his collar, running down through the dust and dirt that covered him. “We need to dig it out. I packed dirt around it, but it’s bleeding pretty badly.”

  “I’ll go get some bandages and forceps,” Dabinshire said. “Charlie, run to the kitchen and find a knife so we can dig it out. Trey, help him get that shirt off.”

  The chaotic energies rolled off McNair as Trey moved to help him get his shirt off. He wondered for a moment about using his magic to either delay Dabinshire and Charlie long enough that McNair would bleed out and solve all their problems, or just do something while the other men were out of the room to end Rockwall’s menace once and for all. But he couldn’t. There was no honor in killing a foe injured by someone else. If he’d been the one who started the fight, then he’d be within his rights to finish it by any means he had.

  McNair moaned as Trey worked the shirt off his right side. The bullet hole was next to his collarbone. The mage tried to think of a way he could honorably take care of the situation. Maybe when he was done here, he could find a way to free Daphne while the earth mage was weak. He didn’t think he could defeat McNair on his own if the earth mage was at full strength. But with him weakened, I might be able to find a way around his magic.

  “Lay back now.” He pushed the other man down.

  “You’re the new cowhand,” McNair said softly. “What’s your name?”

  “Trey.”

  McNair’s brows knit together as the house shook. “Your name is Trey? Are you the one who turned my first creation against me?”

  “What?” Trey’s mind reeled. How does McNair known I’ve been trying to free Copperpot’s soul so it can be its own person again?

  “They called him Copperpot at the saloon.” The earth mage struggled to sit up. “Before I destroyed him, he said something about Trey helping him remember who he was.” The house shook with greater force. The crash of things breaking outside the room grew louder with each shake. “How dare you try to free my brother. I couldn’t free him, how dare you!” Rocks came up through the floor.

  Trey stepped back from the bed, trying to understand the horror the man just uttered. “Copperpot was your brother? How could you do something like that to your brother?”

  “Something like what? I brought him back to life. He was supposed to be with me forever, but the spells didn’t work right. It was like I got someone else too. He was never really right.”

  “But you lost him in a card game!” Trey shouted. Do the evils of this man know no bounds?

  “Do you keep every flawed thing you ever did around?” McNair asked. The glass in the window shattered from all the shaking. In the distance horses whinnied in alarm. “So what are you? How did you know there are souls in them?”

  “I’m a mage, just like you,” Trey replied. “I can see the auras of the dead that empower your metal men. You have to stop and set them free.”

  “You can see auras? I don’t believe you. Auras don’t exist. It’s just some mumbo jumbo that someone made up a long time ago. If auras were real, I’d be able to see them. The power answers my commands.” The house shook harder as the largest tremor yet tore through. “I think I’d know if there were auras.”

  Trey began drawing energy. He wasn’t going to have a choice; even wounded, McNair might be more than he could deal with. “You are blind to them. You can’t even feel the Earth as she cries out each time you force her into a shape that she was never meant to be in. Why can’t people walk beyond the protected areas of the ranch? Because your magic has created things that should never be. Stop it now, and I can help you repair the damage that you’ve done.”

  “You sound just like them shamans that tried to stop me from building the wall.” Plaster fell from the wall and the ceiling. “I bet they sent you here. Or maybe you are one, like that one I saw in the hotel tonight that could change into other humans.”

  “You’re mad. Indians can’t change into other people, just animals!” Trey shouted.

  “What’s going on in here?” Dabinshire rushed into the room carrying a small box. “Justin, calm down. You’re going to destroy the house!”

  “He’s trying to get me to stop making the metal men. The injuns sent him to kill us all!” McNair shouted as the picture of a large woman fell off the wall beside the bed.

  Trey knew he had to get out of the house and off the ranch. Things were getting out of hand. But he needed to kill McNair first. Injured or no, the man had now brought his own powers into play against Trey. He could retaliate. With a loud whistle, the wind rushed in through the shattered window.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” McNair shouted, and dust filled the air, making the element unusable. “I’ve fought redskins for over ten years. I know these little tricks. I killed a Crow shaman five years back that could control the wind. Wind is no match for earth.”

  “Then how well do you deal with fire?” Trey asked as he sent a spark toward the bed where McNair still sat. Like he’d done earlier with the strange things out in the dead area of the ranch, he whistled enough air to blow the spark into a fire. The bedclothes blazed up, but Dabinshire yanked McNair off the bed. The move must’ve strained his injuries because the earth mage fell to the floor with a muffled scream.

  “Come on, Justin. We have to get out of here!” Dabinshire screamed. “Between the two of you, you’re destroying the house.”

  “What?” Charlie appeared in the doorway.

  “Charlie, go get Daphne,” the rancher ordered. “Get her out of the house!”

  “She’s a dragon. She’ll be fine if the place burns down around her.” McNair staggered to his feet. “Trey, on the other hand, won’t be.” The house shook so hard that the doorframe cracked, releasing the weight of the wall.

  Trey ran for the window and, with a high whistle, dove out of the house. The winds caught him and as they had earlier, they carried him up into the sky. No smoke came out of the window, but the central part of the house collapsed in on itself. Are they trapped in there? he wondered as he landed a few feet from the porch. The ground continued to shake. He knew that Rockwall McNair at least was still alive.

  “Trey, are you all right?” Gray Talon’s voice echoed in his head.

  “Not really. McNair is bringing down the house around them. Did he really kill Copperpot?”

  “Melted him into a pool of copper. We’re on our way to the ranch now.”

  “Whatever you do, stay on the path between the gate and the ranch house. I don’t know what they are, but there’s things out in the dead space there. It’s like the bodies McNair has been taking his souls from are out there looking for other souls to claim.”

  “Will do. Be careful. It’s going t
o take us some time to get there.”

  A wall of earth rose up around the house. “I’ll try. I think I might be able to disrupt some of McNair’s magic and need to concentrate.” Without bothering to say farewell, Trey cut his partner off. He needed all his concentration and willpower to do what he planned. Landing just beyond the forming wall, he changed his whistle, trying to make it more like a high-pitched war cry, almost a hawk’s call.

  All around him the winds rose up; then he thrust them at the earthen wall. The two elements clashed together in a mighty rush. The wind battered at the earth as it tried to reform into a wall. Rockwall’s signature power tried to force its way through the wind, but the air struggled to keep it as dust and dirt, not allowing it a firm cohesion. Trey’s mouth grew dry, but still he whistled. McNair was injured; he shouldn’t be able to control this much power, so Trey pushed on as his throat became sore. He struggled on, even making his intake of breath a whistle so his frantic tune wouldn’t let up for an instant.

  Deep inside the house, something gave an inhuman roar. It was all Trey could do to keep his whistle going as fear stabbed through him. What if McNair had called Daphne’s dragon self into the fray? If the earth mage controlled the dragon too, it would be more than he could overcome by himself.

  “We are coming, student of Singing Crow!” The Sioux shamans appeared at his side. “We can help you defeat McNair and free our brethren.”

  Trey could only nod. He needed his voice for whistling but welcomed the help. Another roar emanated from the ruined house. Rhythmic bounding shook the ground from all directions. The metal men from the walls charged toward the house.

  With the wind whipping around him, Trey watched as the spectral shamans moved off to intercept the constructs. They collided and mystical energies flared up. Somehow the shamans wove spells strong enough to stop the metal men, but Trey couldn’t waste attention on them. He needed to keep the wind blowing to prevent McNair from protecting himself with another wall. The injured man must’ve been drawing his strength to stand from the ground beneath his feet. Trey was ready to drop as his throat burned, but still he kept the pressure up.

  “Trey, what’s happening?” Josh came running up to him.

  The old Crow shaman appeared between them. “Stop, you mustn’t interrupt Trey McAlister.”

  “What in the hell are you?”

  Realizing the shaman could hold off Josh, Trey didn’t break his concentration. The wall McNair attempted to build became shorter. The winds were working, if he could just keep it up. But his head was starting to hurt from the effort. He couldn’t draw strength from the air.

  Shots rang out. Some of the hands were shooting at the shamans, but their bullets passed through the ghostly forms with no damage. Then fire rained down on them.

  Trey managed to turn the wind away from the house and swept the fire into the sky. As the brilliant blaze curved upward, he caught a glimpse of a huge shadow rising from the remains of the house. Daphne was indeed a dragon, and she made her draconic presence known in a big way.

  Horses screamed in terror as Trey struggled to keep the fire from the barns, although some of it did hit Martin’s house. His head hurt, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to keep up his end of the assault much longer, let alone fight Daphne if she was still under McNair’s control.

  “Is that Daphne’s dragon form?” Gray Talon’s voice in his head was a welcome presence. At least if he was going to die, his lover would be near.

  “I think so. Look for the metal anklets. If you can get them off, we have a chance of freeing her from McNair’s influence.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” A smaller shadow dropped out of the sky, cutting through the flames as it arrowed toward the dragon.

  With bullets flying around as the wind whipped up to keep the flames at bay, Trey stepped slowly toward the house. Even as his throat spasmed, the winds became easier to control. A new wind joined his. He glanced about as he walked. Josh, possessed by the Crow shaman, added his whistle to Trey’s. Together the two of them bent the winds to their wills.

  His winds still kept the earth of the wall from solidifying. Trey closed his eyes as he stepped through the column of dust that surrounded the house. Beyond the unfinished wall, rocks had risen up to keep the house from collapsing around the bedroom. On the charred bed, McNair sat, his eyes closed in concentration. Dabinshire stood over him with a long rifle across his arm.

  Trey shivered as the rancher lifted the rifle, cocked it, and looked down the barrel at him.

  33

  GRAY TALON stooped toward the huge winged shadow that slowly solidified itself into a dragon. He’d never seen the natural form of the dragon of Bald Peak. He steeled his mind, which wanted to flee from the terrifying sight. With a short burst of his wings, he sped up and dodged around the fire-breathing mouth. It took all his agility to weave around the massive webbed wings as they spread out, making the beast look much larger. As he dove under her tail, he caught a glimpse of the metal bands he’d noticed when she was a young woman sitting in a chair and he was a dog hiding under a table. They had changed size with her and were now several feet tall and at least an inch thick. Could even a bear rip them off her?

  Envisioning the largest, most ferocious grizzly he’d ever encountered, Gray Talon shifted shape as he neared the ground. He came in too fast and had to roll as he landed to keep from breaking his legs. When he stopped moving, he crouched on very expensive marble tile in the ruins of an elegant entryway. He charged back over to the dragon’s leg and reached to get his claws under the nearest band. As his fur brushed against her leg, Daphne moved slightly. The Comanche looked up into the golden eyes that stared down at him.

  She roared.

  He ran for the door.

  Fire blazed down at him as he hurried from the house. Around him, a dirt wall was continually dissolved by a wind. Closing his eyes, he ran through the swirling dirt as the dragon started after him. He cleared the dirt, then skidded to a stop as an idea took hold.

  With a deep breath, he tried the largest shape shift he’d ever attempted. With Daphne’s dragon form clearly in his mind, he forced his body to match it. It felt more like becoming a different human than it did becoming any animal he’d ever shifted into. The energy shimmered around him, and as she cleared the dirt wall, he met her, claw for claw.

  Holding his wings tight against his back, Gray Talon slammed into the dragon and knocked her backward through the wall. She lay there for a moment with her tail and hind legs sticking out of the wall. He pounced on the nearest leg and ripped the slave bracelet off it. The metal burned in his grasp, and he threw it as far away as he could.

  A rifle cracked nearby. His heart jumped. Trey! But he didn’t have time. Other bullets from the ranch hands passed through the ghostly shamans and bounced off the metal men. He moved to the next leg, but she kicked him in the face. He rolled away and came up snarling like a cat. Daphne rolled onto her feet and disappeared for a moment into the dirt wall, only to come flying out at him seconds later.

  He had to get the second band off her. Gray Talon dodged her leap. He’d grown up with other shape changers. He knew how to fight like an animal, even if this was the biggest form he’d ever assumed. He roared and dove toward her tail. Her talons raked his wing membranes. Incredible pain seared through him. He never would’ve believed that the tissue of the wing could be so delicate and sensitive. Unable to save his leap, he crashed into the ground at her feet. She reached down and caught his neck in her jaws. In desperation he grabbed for the second metal band. Her teeth sank into the scales of his neck as his talons closed around the band. When she lifted him up, he pulled with all his might, and the band snapped.

  “I love you, Trey!” he screamed in his mind to his lover.

  Blood dripped from his neck, splashing in large drops on the ground. She stopped moving, like a puppet with the strings snapped. Gray Talon went limp, hoping beyond hope that she was about to let him go.

&nbs
p; Another rifle shot rang out.

  34

  TREY STARED at Mr. Dabinshire. The man’s finger settled on the rifle’s trigger. Trey’s throat was too sore to say anything. His eyes stared through the firelight into the rancher’s. A steely desperation glowed back at him. This man wasn’t afraid to kill him. This man had already killed a large number of people, and what was one more? Keeping his eyes locked on the other man’s, the mage knew a second before he squeezed the trigger. Letting go of the wind, he dove for the floor as the bullet zipped through the air where his head had been a second before.

  “I won’t let you destroy everything!” Dabinshire shouted. “The plan is too close. We can make this country great again! And you won’t stop me, not with a dragon under my control!”

  “Our control,” McNair whispered from the bed. Sweat coated the man’s face and chest. It mingled with the blood seeping out of the wound at his collarbone. Trey wished he had his knife; he could just roll up and stab the man, finish the job the bullet had started. He looked about for anything he could use but knew he’d need to get past Dabinshire to do anything.

  Charlie lay just inside the door to the room. The doorframe had collapsed on him. His pistol still rested in his holster. Trey tried to think of a way he could get across the room to grab it. Dabinshire cocked the rifle again.

  The house shook. It felt like something large had fallen somewhere close by. McNair started to rise off the bed. Dabinshire looked about. Trey scrambled across the room for the pistol.

  Gray Talon’s voice rang out in his head. “I love you, Trey!”

  A rifle went off.

  Nothing hit him as he made it to Charlie. The cowhand hadn’t fastened the strap to hold the pistol in the holster, so it slid out easily. Gun in hand, Trey spun around toward the bed. Dabinshire slumped there and magic sizzled around McNair. Sarah stood where the window had once been, her rifle still at her shoulder. She wasn’t moving to fire again. McNair’s aura started to lash out toward her, and his magic with it. Trey squeezed the trigger. The pistol fired.