tent. The two men were still watching the fire in the distance. I heard drumming and chanting coming from the fire now, and the guards muttered under their breath, as well. I pulled the rope taut between my hands and wrapped it around one man’s neck while Matt smashed the rock down on the other’s head. His man fell silently to the ground, and mine, after clawing at the rope for a moment, dropped to his knees and passed out. Matt knocked him upside the skull for good measure.
The large tent’s opening was tied shut from the outside, and we pressed our ears up against the thick leather for a moment. When we heard nothing inside, Matt untied the flap and poked his head in, then pulled the flap open. There was no one inside. Two rough, wooden tables were against one wall, piled with bread, cheese, skins of water, and our guns. The ground was scuffed in places. I ran to the table and strapped on my gun belt. When I handed Matt his weapons, he was kneeling beside the larger patch of scuffed dirt.
“The colonel was tied up here,” he said, “and the boy, over there. The colonel is hurt.” He pointed at a dark spot in the dirt.
“Blood?” I asked. Matt nodded, and rose to his feet.
“I think we can still hold out hope for Señor Tom,” I said, gesturing toward the table. “His weapons weren’t with ours.” I stuffed my cheeks with bread and cheese and swallowed it down with water. Matt did the same.
“Our hechicero must be putting on a show,” Matt said when he was done eating. “That’s the only thing that explains that big campfire, the colonel and the boy being taken from the tent, and the lack of manpower left behind to watch us.”
“We need to bring our opponents inside and tie them up,” I said. We dragged them in, bound and gagged them with strips of their own clothing, and headed outside, towards the large fire in the distance. The drumming and chanting had grown faster and louder while we were inside. When we were close enough to distinguish the shapes of the men seated around the fire, swaying and beating drums, we dropped to our hands and knees and began crawling.
“Freeze,” someone whispered as we crawled closer to the fire. A gun cocked, and I saw metal poking out of a nearby bush.
“Tom?” Matt called, rolling to one side and aiming a revolver at the bush.
“Oh, it’s you,” the outlaw said, peering out from the scrub. His eyes darted nervously as he put down the gun and crawled over to us. “I thought you were done for.”
“You could have looked for us,” I said.
Tom started to say something, but Matt waved his hand and the outlaw fell silent.
“The wizard’s posse is all over,” Matt said. “Probably the colonel and the kid, too. Keep close, like before. We should be able to get right on top of them, what with the noise and the high grass.” Tom nodded and circled away from us, back into the deep brush.
Matt and I inched forward through the scrub until I could almost reach out and touch the nearest drummer, seated with his back to me. The fire was larger than I’d thought. Flames jumped high into the air and even through our cover, the heat baked my face. The men were in a trance of some sort. The only one in the circle who appeared to be in full control was a short man bearing a staff. He wore a wooden mask carved in the shape of a cat’s face. The mouth was framed with thick, sharp, yellow teeth, and there was a heavy-looking necklace of black stones around his neck. One of his legs was covered in a snakeskin boot, and the other in a soft, leather moccasin.
He knelt several feet from the fire, between two wide wooden boards. A large man, black hair shot with gray, was strapped to one of the boards, a teenage boy to the other. The masked man, the hechicero , laid a hand on each of the captives’ chests and chanted in time with the drumming. I steadied my revolver, aimed at the wizard’s head, and looked at Matt.
“Take him down,” he whispered.
Then Black
The large tent’s opening was tied shut from the outside, and we pressed our ears up against the thick leather for a moment. When we heard nothing inside, Matt untied the flap and poked his head in, then pulled the flap open. There was no one inside. Two rough, wooden tables were against one wall, piled with bread, cheese, skins of water, and our guns. The ground was scuffed in places. I ran to the table and strapped on my gun belt. When I handed Matt his weapons, he was kneeling beside the larger patch of scuffed dirt.
“The colonel was tied up here,” he said, “and the boy, over there. The colonel is hurt.” He pointed at a dark spot in the dirt.
“Blood?” I asked. Matt nodded, and rose to his feet.
“I think we can still hold out hope for Señor Tom,” I said, gesturing toward the table. “His weapons weren’t with ours.” I stuffed my cheeks with bread and cheese and swallowed it down with water. Matt did the same.
“Our hechicero must be putting on a show,” Matt said when he was done eating. “That’s the only thing that explains that big campfire, the colonel and the boy being taken from the tent, and the lack of manpower left behind to watch us.”
“We need to bring our opponents inside and tie them up,” I said. We dragged them in, bound and gagged them with strips of their own clothing, and headed outside, towards the large fire in the distance. The drumming and chanting had grown faster and louder while we were inside. When we were close enough to distinguish the shapes of the men seated around the fire, swaying and beating drums, we dropped to our hands and knees and began crawling.
“Freeze,” someone whispered as we crawled closer to the fire. A gun cocked, and I saw metal poking out of a nearby bush.
“Tom?” Matt called, rolling to one side and aiming a revolver at the bush.
“Oh, it’s you,” the outlaw said, peering out from the scrub. His eyes darted nervously as he put down the gun and crawled over to us. “I thought you were done for.”
“You could have looked for us,” I said.
Tom started to say something, but Matt waved his hand and the outlaw fell silent.
“The wizard’s posse is all over,” Matt said. “Probably the colonel and the kid, too. Keep close, like before. We should be able to get right on top of them, what with the noise and the high grass.” Tom nodded and circled away from us, back into the deep brush.
Matt and I inched forward through the scrub until I could almost reach out and touch the nearest drummer, seated with his back to me. The fire was larger than I’d thought. Flames jumped high into the air and even through our cover, the heat baked my face. The men were in a trance of some sort. The only one in the circle who appeared to be in full control was a short man bearing a staff. He wore a wooden mask carved in the shape of a cat’s face. The mouth was framed with thick, sharp, yellow teeth, and there was a heavy-looking necklace of black stones around his neck. One of his legs was covered in a snakeskin boot, and the other in a soft, leather moccasin.
He knelt several feet from the fire, between two wide wooden boards. A large man, black hair shot with gray, was strapped to one of the boards, a teenage boy to the other. The masked man, the hechicero , laid a hand on each of the captives’ chests and chanted in time with the drumming. I steadied my revolver, aimed at the wizard’s head, and looked at Matt.
“Take him down,” he whispered.
Then Black
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