Cowboy Necromancer 2: Infinite Dark: (A Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG Fantasy), page 32
“A biomancer…” The Elder of Icaria’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been needing someone like you. We had one before, but he ended up joining the Angels of Woe, the idiot. I’m sure he’s dead now.”
Sterling remembered the biomancer he had killed outside of Saltair. “Possibly,” he mumbled.
“What about you two?”
“Aeromancer,” Zephyr said, the ends of her hair lifting up and settling. She gestured toward Roxie. “She’s human. What am I saying? Heh. We’re all human, but she’s not a mancer.”
“That don’t make her any less,” Sterling said, feeling foolish just about the moment the words left his mouth. He didn’t need to come to Roxie’s defense; her powers generally spoke for themselves, and if people expected her to be the weakest link, it generally was a good thing, giving Sterling and his crew a secret weapon of sorts.
“She must be strong,” the Elder of Icaria said, intuiting the dynamics of the group in a way that impressed Sterling. She didn’t seem like a telemancer, but she was certainly giving off this feeling that she had read everyone in the room. “And you have come here to Nomadland… Why?”
“Who wouldn’t want to come here?” Sterling joked. “Y’all got yourselves a nice little set-up going.”
“Yes, we do,” she said flatly, “but right now we aren’t accepting any new applicants to move into town. That isn’t why you came, is it?”
“They came to find two of their companions,” the Chronicler said, skipping over the Godwalker part, and their impending journey south to Monument Valley. “Bizarre as it may seem, they were all transported here from what was once the state of New Mexico.”
Sterling nodded. “Land of Enchantment. Heard of it?”
“I have. I was either born there or I lived there, not too sure, at least according to the driver’s license I had on me once the Rapture finished. I don’t know if I was just vacationing here, or if it’d become a permanent home.”
“Have you been back since?” Paco asked the Elder.
“To Albuquerque? No,” she said. “I am a Deseret girl now.”
Her chihuahua started yipping again.
“Evan, quiet!”
“Well, you ain’t missing much in ol’ Duke City,” Sterling told her. “Just gang warfare and, well, gang warfare.”
“Sounds like Salt Lake City.”
“It is,” the Chronicler told her. “But to answer your previous question: that’s why they are here in Deseret, to find two of their companions. One, I believe you may already know.”
The Elder’s disposition soured. “The shaman?”
Sterling clapped his hands together, scaring her chihuahua and startling Roxie, who drew a weapon she had been hiding beneath her poncho and quickly hid it again. Moira entered the room at this moment with water on a silver tray and would have lost it had it not been for Zephyr, who stabilized the tray, hovering it in midair.
The Sunflower Kid laughed, immediately breaking all the tension in the room. She kept laughing until Paco started to laugh, Zephyr joining in, and finally Sterling. Roxie and the Chronicler never laughed, but the Elder of Icaria eventually began chuckling as well.
“Let me guess,” she said. “This shaman of yours has a reputation that precedes him, right?”
“Shee-it, Don Gasper has been pissing people off since before them Godwalkers showed up.”
“Abbadon,” said the Chronicler, quickly translating Sterling’s term to the Elder.
“I see,” she said, still with that big smile on her face. “Honestly, I was at the point that I was going to have to send people down there to deal with him. There’s a family that lives at the Hole ‘N’ the Rock, the Christensons, and we use the place as a rest stop between here and Monticello. This shaman friend of yours has disrupted that.”
“Sounds about right. What has he been doing exactly?” asked Sterling.
“He has everyone that lives there taking drugs and questioning existence and the order that we have established here in Nomadland, as provided to us by the Oracle. The family that lives there is already late on their monthly payment, and while we haven’t withheld the supplies we give in exchange, it is increasingly becoming an option.”
“Well, I hate to say that this ain’t the first time, but… this ain’t the first time,” Sterling said, barely able to stifle another laugh. “He’s a wild one, that Gasper, and there have been a number of times that I’ve wanted to write him off myself. Hell, recently, in fact. He may seem a little batshit, but when he really gets cooking, he’s good at what he does.”
“Which is?” the Elder asked skeptically.
“He’s a shaman, like you said, and a good one at that.”
“That’s debatable,” said Roxie.
“He led me to the Sunflower Kid,” Sterling reminded her, recalling how otherworldly the Juan Ritual had been, the coyote they had encountered on the outskirts of Las Cruces. Never will forget that, he thought as he offered the Elder of Icaria a grin. “But don’t you worry none. We’ll take care of Don Gasper in due time. Now, about this technomancer…”
“A technomancer, huh?” The afroed woman leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up onto the table, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. “I can’t recall hearing of anything like that, but I do get a lot of reports and sometimes Moira goes through them. Moira!”
Once again, the cloaked woman entered the Elder’s office.
“Have there been any technomancers suddenly appearing in the area?”
Moira shook her head.
“Okay… have there been any technomancers in the area that haven’t suddenly appeared?”
Once again Moira shook her head.
“I figured as much. In that case, I can’t help you with the technomancer—”
“—but Don Gasper can,” Sterling said, interrupting her.
The Elder raised an eyebrow at him. “You think you will be able to find him?”
“Look, I know it sounds like I am on Don Gasper’s side here, because I sort of am, but I’m actually not. That son of a bitch really got under my skin recently. Long story short, he basically sold us down the river to a group of bandits known as the Killbillies—who, I should add if they’re somehow listening, are still on my shitlist.”
“He betrayed you?”
“I’m going to give him a pass this time because it was for love, and this was no ordinary love, it was love with a telemancer. As much as he would probably never admit it, Magdalena was likely in control of his mind.”
“And you still trust him?” the Elder asked.
Sterling snorted. “Hell no, I don’t trust him. But I’ve known Don Gasper for five years now, the Sunflower Kid has as well,” he said, nodding toward teenage biomancer. “He’s like a cactus: a little thorny on the outside but sweet on the inside, once you get to know him.”
“That isn’t how I would describe a cactus,” the Elder of Icaria said, “but if you think he can help you, by all means. Deal with him so we don’t have to.”
“Then I guess our little exchange here is done?” Sterling asked, looking to his group for confirmation. “Unless you got something else for us?”
“You are guests of the Oracle, and you will be treated as such,” the Elder said, taking a more serious tone. “We appreciate you dealing with our shaman problem, and you will be given the best lodging in town while you are here, the one that the Oracle herself has stayed in twice.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” Sterling said.
“Are you sure?” the Chronicler asked. “Not that I mind or anything, it’s just… we don’t want to be any trouble.”
“The exchange isn’t over yet,” the woman said, grinning once again at the group. “You have a biomancer, and I could use a biomancer.”
Sterling looked at the Sunflower Kid. “You feel like helping out around here?”
“What needs to be done?”
“If you didn’t know, it’s canning season as we get ready for winter. Just about anything you can help us grow with the aid of a hydromancer and maybe even you,” she told Paco, “would be helpful. We can deal with all the canning and those aspects, but if we had an even larger harvest, it would sure make winter less terrifying. That and…” The Elder of Icaria darted her eyes over to her chihuahua, which lifted his head in her direction and folded his ears back. “I want you to turn Evan into a female dog. You can do something like that, right?”
The Sunflower Kid nodded.
“I’m tired of him pissing everywhere and humping everything he comes into contact with. He’s not a bad dog, but he is stupider than they come and can’t recognize a leg from a snatch, pardon my language.”
The Sunflower Kid approached Evan the chihuahua. She crouched before the dog as it growled at her.
“He’s not so friendly…” the Elder said in the way one would apologize.
“I’ll handle it.”
Vines began to swirl out of the center of her palm. The dog tried to run only to be caught up in her vines, the Sunflower Kid turning the chihuahua away from her as it started to urinate.
Just like that, it became a female, Sterling not seeing the change in action but definitely noticing that the trajectory of its urine had modified to some degree, going from a stream to a trickle and finally stopping.
The Sunflower Kid kept the chihuahua suspended in the air, on its back now, as she returned to her seat.
“I’ve always wanted to see a biomancer do that,” the Elder of Icaria said as she came over to the dog and told Evan that she was going to be okay, that it was over now. The chihuahua stopped whimpering. “I really appreciate it, and I want no expenses spared for you during your stay. Moira!”
Once again, the veiled assistant entered the Elder of Icaria’s office.
“They will be staying in the Oracle suite, and make sure they are well fed and that there are baths and massages provided.”
“What about that saloon?” Sterling asked. “I wanted to check it out.”
“Of course. Anything you’d like. Put it on my tab.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked her.
“You are doing us a favor here, and the food will get us through winter and then some, not to mention Evan here. Thank you, truly.” The Elder of Icaria took the lapdog into her arms. She squirmed a little, but eventually settled. “One more thing; I’m sure you encountered the Gauntlet in Saltair. We have something similar here that you may use tomorrow, if you’d like, before you set off.”
“Y’all got one of them too?” Sterling asked.
“We do.”
“How’s that? You don’t have a biomancer.”
“We have the next best thing, a flectomancer who has…” The Elder took a deep breath into her nostrils and nodded. “Well, you’ll see tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your night, and try not to get into too much trouble at the saloon.”
“How did you know I was the get in trouble type?”
The woman shrugged in a playful way. “Call it a hunch.”
.Chapter Two.
Clean-shaven and feeling like a million bucks, whatever that used to feel like…
Moab actually had a barber who had taken care of Sterling after a relaxing bath, where he’d enjoyed a few cigarettes as he worked on some of the sketches he’d been meaning to make. He didn’t need to be told that the suite reserved for the Oracle was going to be amazing, and he wasn’t at all surprised to find that they had converted one of the buildings downtown into an epic Nephite-ready pad, with several rooms, all remodeled, and plenty of extra space for staff and other things the Oracle may need.
Sterling’s group had played Rochambeau for the main room, which had gone to the Sunflower Kid, Sterling in a smaller room next to hers, Paco and the Chronicler sharing a space across the hall, Zephyr and Roxie at the end. It was certainly an estate worthy of true Southern Living, which was the name of a magazine Sterling had once come across back in Truth or Consequences.
Them Before People really knew how to live it up, he remembered thinking at the time, a bit jealous at the number of creature comforts they had been provided. They really knew how to build, too…
Now seated at the bar of the saloon, no scratchy beard, ready to order his dinner, Sterling felt just about as close to who he once was as he ever had. And as the bartender approached, all he could do was smile. “Howdy. The Elder of Icaria said I can order whatever I want, just confirming that before we get started here, because I do indeed plan to take her up on her offer,” he said, not at all feeling cheap.
The bartender offered Sterling a short nod. “She sure did. Let me put your food order in first.”
“Yup, about that… what do y’all have on special tonight?”
“Tonight? Bison burgers.”
“Shee-it, in that case, I’ll take two,” he said, his mouth watering. “And I’ve got something here…” He summoned three Chimayó peppers. “Tell the chef to grill these off and put them on the burger, no condiments necessary. Y’all got bacon? Tell me that y’all got bacon, it’s been ages.”
The man nodded once again. “Thick cut.”
“Hell yes. Add some bacon, some cheese too. Another question: y’all got chips and salsa?”
“We do, but the chips are made from fry bread.”
“Yessir,” Sterling said, remembering the cave fajitas he’d had with Joel the Troll using fry bread. “That’ll do.”
The bartender examined the peppers Sterling had given him. “These are interesting.”
“Interesting? Yes. Tasty? You bet your ass. Not quite as hot as a habanero, but it’ll do just fine. You want a bite? Shit, feel free to take one, amigo, I know y’all will be cooking it anyway.”
“I think I’ll pass for now. To drink?”
“Whiskey, neat. Can you do that?”
“We sure can.”
Sterling whistled, nearly overcome with joy. “I don’t know who figured out how to distill whiskey in these parts, but that’s about the best damn news I’ve heard all day.”
The bartender tilted his chin toward the wall, as if this direction meant anything to Sterling. “The distillers are down in Monticello, a flectomancer and a couple people that work with him. They’ve been able to replicate a good many liquors used before the Rapture, including whiskey, vodka, a coffee liquor, tequila, and gin.”
“In that case, I can’t wait to see what them people have whipped up.”
The bartender left, and as he did Sterling shifted his attention to a woman playing an old piano in the corner, another leaning against the side of the piano as if she were about to sing, both in crocheted bonnets like Lily Gray had worn. There were a few patrons in the saloon, and after another few moments of intro, the singer began.
Sterling had never heard the song before, but he found himself nodding along, enchanted by everything around him, all the wood surfaces polished slick, a sense of joviality thick in the air, of fellowship and normality.
Normality… ain’t nothing like it.
The bartender began to pour the whiskey, Sterling indicating that he wanted a double. “Can’t wait,” Sterling said as he tipped his shot glass at the bartender. “Salud, amigo, salud.”
He sipped his whiskey slowly, savoring the burn, and eventually lit a cigarette.
Been needing this, he thought as a woman approached, one in a pink bonnet that matched the lace tied around her neck, her bosom slightly powdered and on display.
“Fancy some company, stranger?” she asked in a thick, syrupy drawl that didn’t match her fairly pretty features, her perfume reaching him.
“What kind of company does the Elder allow around here?”
She blew a kiss at him, her lips strikingly red, a beauty mark painted to the left of her nostril. “She’s paying for your tab, ain’t she?”
“She sure is, but I’m expecting someone,” Sterling told her with a big grin. “Mighty kind of you to ask if I’d like company, though. I’m sure some feller walking in here at some point is looking for just that. Any other day, and I might have taken you up on that offer.”
The woman ran her fingers across the hair on his arm. “But you ain’t like them other fellers. I’ve never seen one around here like you.”
“That may be,” Sterling said, not able to hide the smile on his face. “That may be.”
The woman was certainly alluring, but just about the time she was scooting closer to him, his two burgers came. Sterling glanced from the woman to the food and chose the latter.
“I’ll be around,” she said, the smell of the cooked meat now overpowering her perfume.
“I’m sure you will.”
Sterling took his first bite of the burger and felt a tingle run down his spine. It really was that good, practically oozing from the combination of his peppers, the grease of the bacon, the way the chef had fried up the burger so the center was still red and juicy, the cheese, the melted cheese. The burger was small, but it was amazing, Sterling glad to have ordered another.
The chips and salsa weren’t anything to write home about, but he expected as much this far north of the border. He ate them anyway, washing them down with a glass of water and another whiskey. It was about that time that everything came to a stop, the pianist pausing for a moment, the singer doing the same. A smile, one that Sterling could barely contain, slowly traced across his face. He didn’t have to turn around; he knew exactly who it was.
He pushed his plate away and motioned for the bartender, the man stepping over to Sterling as he cleaned out the inside of a shot glass.
“For the lady?”
“Same as me.”
Sterling finally turned around to find Roxie standing there in all her glory, the female gunner no longer wearing her poncho or her armor. He’d never seen the woman so gussied up. Roxie was in a black dress with a bit of sparkle to it along the straps, a silk scarf tied around her neck. She had makeup on, while her hair had been slicked back and done up in a pony tail.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
The bartender was good at his job, Sterling turning just in time for him to slide the glass of whiskey to him. He handed it to Roxie and motioned for her to sit next to him. She did so, the female gunner biting her top lip for a moment, all of a sudden shy.
